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+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #69114 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/69114)
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-The Project Gutenberg eBook of Our Wonderful Selves, by Roland
-Pertwee
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you
-will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
-using this eBook.
-
-Title: Our Wonderful Selves
-
-Author: Roland Pertwee
-
-Release Date: October 8, 2022 [eBook #69114]
-
-Language: English
-
-Produced by: Mardi Desjardins & the online Distributed Proofreaders
- Canada team at https://www.pgdpcanada.net from page images
- generously made available by the Internet Archive
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUR WONDERFUL SELVES ***
-
- OUR
- WONDERFUL
- SELVES
-
-
-
-
- “_Of making many books there is no end:_
- _and much study is a weariness of the flesh._”
- ECCLESIASTES XII, 12.
-
-
-
-
- OUR
- WONDERFUL SELVES
-
-
-
- BY
- ROLAND PERTWEE
-
-
- [Illustration]
-
- NEW YORK ALFRED • A • KNOPF MCMXIX
-
-
-
-
- COPYRIGHT, 1919, BY
- ALFRED A. KNOPF, INC.
-
-
- PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
-
-
-
-
- _To_
- _AVICE_
-
-
-
-
- CONTENTS
-
-
- PART I A QUESTION MARK IN SUBURBIA 11
-
- PART II THE PURPLE PATCH 61
-
- PART III PARIS 115
-
- PART IV THE PEN AND THE BOARDS 173
-
- PART V EVE 199
-
- PART VI “HE TRAVELS FASTEST— 241
-
- PART VII —WHO TRAVELS ALONE” 289
-
- PART VIII THE LEAP 321
-
-
-
-
- PART I
- A QUESTION MARK IN SUBURBIA
-
-
- I
-
-Wynne Rendall was a seven months’ child; the fact is significant of a
-personality seeking premature prominence upon this planet. He spent the
-first weeks of his infancy wrapped in cotton wool and placed in a basket
-as near the fire as safety allowed. He scaled precisely two pounds
-fifteen ounces, and the doctor, who manipulated the weights and was
-interested in mathematics, placed two pounds fifteen ounces over seven
-months and shook his head forebodingly at the result.
-
-“If he lives he will be a sickly child, nurse.”
-
-This opinion the nurse heartily endorsed, and added, in tribute to the
-kindliness of her disposition:
-
-“Poor little thing!”
-
-Mrs. Rendall did not show great concern at the untimely arrival of her
-offspring. She accepted it, as she accepted all things, with
-phlegmatical calm. A great deal was required to still Mrs. Rendall’s
-emotions, so much, in fact, that it was not within the recollection of
-any of her intimates that they ever had been stirred. It did not occur
-to her that the birth of a child, mature or premature, was a matter of
-moment. If it lived, well and good, and the best must be done for it. If
-it died, the occurrence must be regarded as sad and an occasion for
-shedding a given number of tears. It was clearly useless to foreshadow
-either event, since one was as likely as the other and could be as
-readily treated with when the time arose.
-
-It must not be thought that Mrs. Rendall’s calm was the result of
-philosophy. That would be far from the truth. It occurred simply and
-solely from a vacant mind—a mind nourished by the dead-sea fruit of its
-own vacuity. She lacked impulse and intelligence, and was, indeed, no
-more than a lifeless canal along which the barges of domesticity were
-drearily towed. Her ideas were other people’s, and valueless at that;
-her conversation was a mere repetition of things she had said before.
-
-When the doctor, rubbing his hands to lend an air of cheerful optimism
-to a cheerless situation, declared, “We shall pull that youngster
-through, see if we don’t,” she responded, “Oh, yes,” with a falling
-inflexion. If he had said the opposite, her reply would have been the
-same—delivered in the same manner.
-
-In some cases heredity ignores personalities, and this, in the instance
-of Wynne Rendall, was hardly difficult of achievement. From his mother
-he took nothing, unless it were a measure of her fragility, which was
-perhaps the only circumstance about her to justify attention. The
-characteristics that he did not bring into the world with himself he
-inherited from his grandfather, _via_ his own sire.
-
-The grandfather was certainly the more notable of the two gentlemen, and
-had achieved some astonishing ideals on canvas, very heartily
-disapproved of by the early Victorian era, and some memorable passages
-of wit which had heightened his unpopularity. He was an artist who went
-for his object with truly remarkable energy. To seek a parallel among
-modern men, his work possessed some of the qualities of Aubrey
-Beardsley’s, combined with the vigour of John S. Sargent. But the world
-was not ready for such productions, and, casting its eyes upward in
-pious horror, hurried from the walls on which they were exhibited. Old
-Edward Tyler Rendall scorned them as they departed, but he understood
-the situation notwithstanding.
-
-“I’ve come too soon,” he mused, “too soon by a generation or more.”
-
-His belief in his art was so great that he determined to sacrifice his
-liberty and get married, in the hope that he might have a son who would
-carry on the work for the benefit of a world enlightened by
-broader-minded civilization.
-
-In due course the son was born, and when he reached an age of
-understanding, the reason of his being was dinned into his ears.
-
-“Get away from old traditions; build something new, dextrous, adroit,
-understanding. See what I mean, Robert boy? Be plucky—plucky in line,
-composition, subject. Always have a purpose before you; don’t mind how
-offensive it is—no one cares for that if you’ve the courage to declare
-your meaning in honest black and white.”
-
-The result of this intensive artistic culture was that Robert Everett
-Rendall, at the age of sixteen and a half, ran away from home and took a
-position as office boy in a large firm of tea-tasters in the City.
-
-This case presents unusual features, being in itself an inversion of the
-usual procedure.
-
-Old Rendall made one heroic effort to win him back, and stormed the City
-citadel to that end; but here he encountered from Robert a metropolitan
-manner so paralysing that he fled the office in wholesome disgust.
-
-Ever courageous, he urged his wife to labour anew, and was rewarded by a
-daughter who unhappily perished. The disappointment was acute, and when
-some three years later a son was born his energies had so far abated
-that he made no further effort to inculcate the spirit of artistry which
-had been the essence of his being.
-
-Meanwhile Robert Everett Rendall lived a sober and honourable life in
-the City, and heartily abused all matters pertaining to art. Nothing
-infuriated him more than to find himself drawing, with an odd facility,
-strange little designs on the corners of his blotting paper while
-engaged in thinking out the intricacies connected with the tasting of
-tea.
-
-The suppression of a natural ability sometimes produces peculiar results
-and the deliberate smothering of all he had been taught or had inherited
-from his father brought about in Robert Everett Rendall a deplorable
-irritability and high temper. This he was discreet enough to keep in
-hand during City hours, but in his own home he allowed it full sway.
-
-At such times his actions were abnormal. He would pick up any object
-convenient to hand and throw it with surprising accuracy of aim at one
-or another of the highly respectable water-colour paintings which
-adorned the walls of his abode.
-
-But even in this matter his City training stood him in good stead, for
-there was very little spontaneity in the act. According to the degree of
-his ill-humour, so was the target chosen. If he were in a towering rage
-the 20x30 drawing of Clovelly would be bound to have it; and so down the
-scale of anger to the 10x7 of Beachy Head. It made no difference whether
-the picture were large or small, his projectile struck it with
-never-failing precision. The tinkle and crash of the falling glass
-seemed to restore his calm, for when the blow had been struck he
-returned to more normal habits.
-
-Had Mrs. Rendall been gifted with observation she would have known
-exactly, according to his mood, which picture would fall, and would thus
-have saved herself much ducking over the dining-room table. Such
-conclusions, however, were beyond the reach of her unsubtle soul.
-
-In connection with this matter she produced, and that unintentionally,
-one of her only flights of humour:
-
-“If you would throw your serviette ring, Robert, it would not matter so
-much, but the salt-cellar makes it so uncomfortable for every one else.”
-
-
- II
-
-The news of Wynne’s birth was conveyed to Mr. Rendall on his doorstep at
-an inopportune moment. He had pinched his fingers in the front gate, and
-followed this misfortune with the discovery that his latchkey had been
-left in another pair of trousers. Few things irritate a man more than
-ringing his own door bell, and Mr. Rendall was no exception to the rule.
-In common with the general view, he conceived that the parlour-maid kept
-him waiting unduly.
-
-“I cannot think what you girls do all day long,” he said sharply, when
-the door opened.
-
-To this Lorna replied:
-
-“Oh, sir, if you please, the baby has come.”
-
-“Well, that won’t alter the price of bacon,” ejaculated Mr. Rendall, and
-pushed past her into the hall.
-
-But notwithstanding this attitude of _nonchaloir_, he was genuinely put
-about by the news. He did not admit the right of babies to take
-liberties with their time-sheets. To do so was an impertinent
-indiscretion. The other two children had not behaved in this manner, and
-he saw no reason why a special latitude should be extended to the new
-arrival. Already he had made preparations for being from home when this
-troublesome period arrived, and now, by a caprice of nature, he was
-involved in all the discomfort that falls to the lot of a husband at
-such a time. It was not part of his nature to take a secondary place in
-his own household, and he esteemed that to do so was derogatory to his
-position.
-
-Throwing his hat on the hall chair he entered the drawing-room, where he
-received a rude surprise. It was his habit, before setting out to the
-City, to finish his breakfast coffee by the drawing-room fire. To his
-disgust and irritation he found the empty cup, a crumpled newspaper, and
-his soft slippers just as he had left them that morning. Mightily
-angered, Mr. Rendall moved toward the bell, when his eye fell upon a
-basket in the grate. With the intention of throwing cup, newspaper,
-shoes and basket into the garden, he crossed the room, but as he stooped
-to carry out his resolve, a faint, flickering wail came to his ears. The
-contents of the basket moved ever so slightly—a fold of blanket turned
-outward, and the thin, elfin face of his youngest son was revealed.
-
-At that moment the nurse came into the room. She hesitated at the sight
-of Mr. Rendall, then stepped forward with,
-
-“Oh, it’s you, sir. Hush, that’s the baby.”
-
-“D’you imagine I thought it was a packet of envelopes?” retorted Mr.
-Rendall. “But why not put him in the nursery?”
-
-“The other children have only just been sent to their aunt’s, sir, and
-the nursery isn’t quite ready. Poor little thing’s very weakly, and has
-to be near a good fire.”
-
-“H’m,” said Mr. Rendall. “I see! Boy, eh? Not much good—weakly boys!”
-
-“Oh, but he’ll soon strengthen up.”
-
-“Hope so. Yes. Doctor’s bills—no good! Mrs. Rendall all right?”
-
-“Going along very nicely, I’m glad to say.”
-
-“H’m. Yes. When did all this happen?”
-
-“About three o’clock.”
-
-“Not much of a chance to clear up, eh? Cups and things lying about!
-Well, I suppose I may as well go upstairs.”
-
-The interview between husband and wife does not affect our narrative and
-may well be omitted.
-
-
- III
-
-Despite adverse conditions, Wynne Rendall survived the perils of
-infancy. He was, however, a fragile child, susceptible to chills and
-fever, and ailments the flesh is heir to. In appearance he in no way
-resembled his brother or sister—healthy children both, with large
-appetites and stupid, expressionless faces. He had a broad brow, which
-overcast the slender lower portions of his face and accentuated the
-narrowness of his shoulders. His eyes were restless and very bright;
-they flickered inquiry at every object which passed before their focal
-plane. His attention was readily attracted to anything unusual even in
-his early pram days. On one occasion he saw a balloon floating over the
-houses at a low altitude, and his perambulator never passed the spot
-above which he had seen it, without his eyes lifting toward the skies in
-anxious search. Wynne’s nurse was a conscientious little being, and took
-a fierce pride in the prowess of her charge.
-
-“The way ’e notices, you know. Never forgets so much as anything,” she
-would confide to other nurses as they pursued their way toward the
-gardens. “Knows ’is own mind, ’e does, and isn’t afraid to let you know
-it, either.”
-
-Certainly Wynne held ideas regarding the proper conduct of babies and
-did not hesitate to raise his voice in displeasure when occasion
-demanded. In this, however, he showed a logical disposition, for he
-never cried for the sake of crying. Of toys he very soon tired, and
-signified lack of interest by throwing them from his pram at moments
-when his actions were unobserved. As a rule he showed some enthusiasm
-with the arrival of a new toy, and cherished it dearly for two or three
-days, but directly the novelty had worn off he lost no time in ridding
-himself of its society. If he were caught in the act, and the toy
-restored to him, he would cry very heartily, bite his hands, and kick
-his feet.
-
-Unlike most children, his first adventures with talking did not consist
-in repetition of the words “mummie” and “daddy.” The nurse did her best
-to persuade him, but he was obdurate, and declined to accept the view
-that they should take precedence in forming a vocabulary. Trees, sky and
-water he articulated, almost perfectly, before bothering about nouns
-defining mere mortals.
-
-
- IV
-
-At the age of four and a half he was sent to a kindergarten, where he
-found many things to wonder about. He spent a year or more wondering. He
-wondered about the ribbons that tied little girls’ hair, and why hair
-need be tied, since it was pleasanter to look upon in riot. He wondered
-why the lady who kept the school had a chain to her eye-glasses, since
-they gripped her nose so securely that the danger of their falling off
-was negligible. He wondered why A was A, and not for example S, and
-would not accept it as being so without a reason being furnished. Also
-he wondered why he should be set tasks involving the plaiting of
-coloured strips of paper, which were tiresome to perform and unsightly
-when finished.
-
-“Why need I?” he asked petulantly. “Grown-ups don’t. They are ugly and
-silly.”
-
-“You mustn’t say that, Wynne,” reproved the mistress. “Besides it isn’t
-true. Doesn’t your mother do pretty embroidery? I am sure she does.”
-
-The logic of the reply pleased him, but it also set him speculating why
-his mother devoted her time to such profitless employment. The designs
-she worked were stereotyped and geometrical. It seemed impossible any
-one could wish to be associated with such productions, and yet, when he
-came to reflect upon the matter, he realized that most of her time was
-spent stitching at them.
-
-At the first opportunity he said:
-
-“Mummie, why do you do that?”
-
-“Because it is pretty,” she replied.
-
-There must be something wrong then, he decided. Either she had used the
-wrong word, or the natural forms which he had decided were “pretty” were
-not pretty at all. The train of thought was a little complex, so he
-questioned afresh:
-
-“What are they for when you’ve done?”
-
-“Antimacassars.”
-
-“What’s antercassars?”
-
-“It means something you put over the back of a chair to prevent the
-grease from people’s hair spoiling the coverings.” Mrs. Rendall’s
-grandmother had provided her with this valuable piece of knowledge.
-
-“Oh,” said Wynne.
-
-His eyes roamed round the precise semi-circle of small drawing-room
-chairs, each complete with its detachable antimacassar. As he looked it
-struck him that the backs of these chairs were so low that no grown-up
-person could bring his head into contact with them unless he sat upon
-the floor. Wherefore it was clear that his mother was making provision
-against a danger which did not exist.
-
-With this discovery awoke the impression that she could hardly be a lady
-of sound intelligence. Rather fearfully he advanced the theory that her
-labours were in vain.
-
-“Don’t bother your head about these things,” said Mrs. Rendall. “Plenty
-of time to think of them when you are grown up.” And she threaded her
-needle with a strand of crimson silk.
-
-Wynne passed from the room disturbed by many doubts. To the best of his
-ability he had proved to his mother that antimacassars in no sense were
-antimacassars, and, in defiance of his logic, she continued to produce
-them. Moreover, she had said they were pretty, and they were _not_
-pretty—she had said they were antimacassars and they were _not_
-antimacassars. Could her word, therefore, be relied upon in other
-matters? For instance, when she announced at table, “You have had quite
-enough;” or at night, “It is time to go to bed,” might it not, in
-reality, be an occasion for a “second helping” or another hour at play?
-It was reasonable to suppose so.
-
-He decided it would be expedient to keep his eyes open and watch the
-habits of grown-ups more closely in the future.
-
-
- V
-
-The next serious impression on Wynne’s susceptible brain was the
-discovery of routine, and he conceived for it an instant dislike. To him
-it appeared a grievous state of affairs that nearly all matters were
-guided by the clock rather than by circumstance. One had one’s breakfast
-not because one was hungry, but because it was half-past eight, and so
-on with a mass of other details, great and small, throughout the day.
-That people should wilfully enslave themselves to a mere mechanical
-contrivance, instead of rising superior to the calls of time and place,
-was incomprehensible to Wynne. He could not appreciate how regularity
-and repetition in any sense benefited the individual. He observed how a
-breakdown in the time-table of events was a sure signal for high words
-from his father, and an aggravated sense of calamity which ran through
-every department of the house. True, a late breakfast presaged the loss
-of a train, and so much time less at the office, but surely this was no
-matter for melancholy? It argued a poor spirit that could not rejoice at
-an extra quarter of an hour in bed, or delaying the pursuit of irksome
-duties.
-
-Wynne had never seen his father’s office, but at the age of seven he had
-already formed very pronounced and unfavourable views regarding it. To
-his mind the office and the City were one—a place which swallowed up
-mankind in the morning and disgorged them at night. The process of
-digestion through which they appeared to have passed produced
-characteristics of a distressing order.
-
-A child judges men by his father, and women by his mother. From this
-standard Wynne judged that men might be tolerable were it not for the
-City. The City was responsible for his father’s ill-humours at
-night—the city inspired home criticism and such observations as:
-
-“I come back tired out and find——” etc.
-
-Wynne had a very wholesome distaste for recurrent sentiments; he liked
-people to say new things that were interesting. The repetition of
-ready-made phrases was lazy and dull—the very routine of speech. It
-were better, surely, to say nothing at all than have catch-phrases for
-ever on one’s lips.
-
-From this point his thoughts turned to inanimate objects, and
-subconsciously he realized how routine affected their arrangement as
-inevitably as it affected human beings. Look where you would, there was
-always a hat-rack in the hall, a church almanack in the lavatory, and a
-clock on the dining-room mantelpiece. Why?
-
-There was a certain rough justice in the position of the hat-rack,
-assuming that one admitted the law which discouraged the wearing of hats
-in the house, but why should one desire to study saints’ days while
-washing one’s hands? A clock, too, would be none the less serviceable if
-standing on a cabinet. Who, then, was responsible for dictating such
-laws? he asked himself. Clearly these were matters for investigation.
-
-An opportunity to investigate arose a few days later. There was a new
-housemaid, and after her first effort to turn out the drawing-room Mrs.
-Rendall summoned her to explain that the chairs and tables had not been
-put back in their proper places.
-
-“Your master would be most annoyed if he saw this, Emily. It is very
-careless indeed. These chairs must go like this”—and the old order was
-restored.
-
-“Why do they have to go like that, Mummie?” demanded Wynne, when the
-maid had departed.
-
-“Because they always have,” replied Mrs. Rendall, with great finality.
-
-He was too young to understand the meaning of a vicious circle or he
-might have recognized its rotations in her reply. So everything must be
-done again because it has been done before. Seemingly that was the law
-governing the universe.
-
-Speaking almost to himself he mused:
-
-“I think it would be nice to do things because they _never_ have been
-done before.”
-
-To which Mrs. Rendall very promptly replied:
-
-“Don’t be silly.”
-
-“That isn’t silly,” said Wynne. “Why is it silly?”
-
-“If you say another word you will go straight to bed.”
-
-The remark was as surely in place as the clock which stood on the dead
-centre of the mantelpiece.
-
-
- VI
-
-Middle class suburban prosperity was not the atmosphere to produce the
-best results from Wynne Rendall’s active, sensitive brain. He could not
-understand his parents, and they did not attempt to understand him. His
-elder brother and sister, being three and four years his senior, left
-him outside their reckoning. They played sedate games, in which he was
-never invited to take part. To tell the truth, he had little enough
-inclination, for most of their ideas of entertainment revolved round
-commercial enterprise, which he cordially disliked. His brother would
-build a shop with the towel-horse, stock it with nursery rubbish, and
-sell the goods, after much ill-humoured bartering, to his sister. She,
-poor child, in spite of frequent importunities, never once was allowed
-to play the rôle of shopkeeper, but continued as a permanent customer
-until the game had lost its relish.
-
-Thus Wynne was thrown very much on his own resources. He read
-voraciously whatever books he could procure, and spent a deal of time
-working out his own intricate little thoughts.
-
-Somewhere at the back of his head was a strong conviction that the world
-held finer things than those surrounding him. To strengthen this belief
-were certain passages in the books he read. On the whole, however, he
-was rather disappointed with reading. This in itself was not surprising,
-in view of the quality of the books to which he had access. It seemed to
-him that a man might very easily devise more romantic imaginings than
-any with which he had come into contact.
-
-To test the truth of this theory, he took a pencil stump and some paper
-into the garden and tried to write about pleasing things. But the words
-he desired were hard to find, hard to spell, and difficult to string
-together. So, instead, he decided to draw the little Princess who was
-the heroine of his unwritten tale. In this he was more successful and
-achieved a dainty little figure with an agreeable smile. To some extent
-this pleased him, but not altogether. He was painfully conscious that
-her feet were clumsy, and her eyes ill drawn, and that the picture did
-not express half he desired to express. A picture was stationary, and
-lacked the movement and variety of words. Words could describe the
-picture, but the picture could not speak the words. Thus his first
-artistic experiment was fraught with disappointment. As luck would have
-it, his father chanced by and flicked the paper from his fingers.
-
-“What’s this, eh?” he demanded. “Wasting your time drawing! Why aren’t
-you at play?”
-
-“I’m ’musing myself,” replied Wynne, sulkily.
-
-“You amuse yourself with a ball, then, like anybody else.”
-
-It is curious how closely a ball is associated with amusement. The
-average man is incapable of realizing entertainment that does not
-include the use of a ball. Reputations have been made and lost through
-ability or inability to handle it in the proper manner. A man is
-considered a very poor sort of fellow if he expresses disdain and
-contempt for the ball. Conceive the catastrophic consequences that would
-result if a law were passed forbidding the manufacture of balls? A
-shudder runs through the healthy-minded at the bare thought of such a
-thing.
-
-Mr. Rendall’s anger can readily be appreciated, then, when his son made
-answer:
-
-“There isn’t any fun in that.”
-
-“No fun?” roared Mr. Rendall. “Time you got some proper ideas into your
-head, young fellow. Be ashamed of yourself! Fetch a ball from the
-nursery at once, and let me see you enjoying yourself with it, or you’ll
-hear something. Understand this, too—there’s not going to be any
-drawing in this household, or a lot of damn high-falutin artistic
-business either. Get that into your head as soon as you can. Be off.”
-
-Ten minutes later, in a white heat of fury, Wynne was savagely kicking a
-silly woollen ball from one end of the grass patch to the other.
-
-“That’s not the way,” said his father.
-
-“Damn the ball,” screamed Wynne, and made his first acquaintance with a
-willow twig across the back.
-
-
- VII
-
-It is a matter for speculation as to what extent environment can smother
-natural impulses. Surrounded on all sides by convention and routine, the
-spark of originality is in a fair way to become dampened or altogether
-extinguished.
-
-Such was the case with Wynne Rendall. He was half confident that many
-existing ideals were not ideals at all, and that much that was desirable
-to develop was wilfully undeveloped; but weighing in the balance against
-this view were the actions and opinions of those with whom he came into
-contact. Was it, then, he who was at fault? A glance to the right and
-left seemed to point to that conclusion. And yet there was nature to
-support his view: nature with its thousand intricate moods of growth and
-illumination—nature who pranked the water to laughing wavelets and
-tasselled the sky with changing clouds—nature who made night a castle
-of mystery where invisible kings held court, and mischievous hobgoblins
-gobbled at the fairies’ toes as they tripped it beneath the laurel
-bushes in the garden. Surely, surely these things mattered more greatly
-than half-past eight breakfast, and the 9:15 to town? Surely there was
-greater happiness to be found thinking of these than in flinging a ball
-at ninepins or kicking it through a goal?
-
-And yet his father beat him because he drew a fairy, and his mother
-threatened him with an early bed when he desired to do as others had
-never done before.
-
-His brother and sister played at “shop,” and comforted their parents
-exceedingly by so doing. They never asked “silly questions,” he was
-constantly told. They were all right, and only he was wrong.
-
-
- VIII
-
-It is hard indeed to preserve faith with so great a consensus of opinion
-against one, and it is probable Wynne Rendall would have dulled into a
-very ordinary lad had it not been for a chance visit from his father’s
-brother. Wynne had often heard his parents speak of Clem Rendall. They
-referred to him as a “ne’er-do-well,” a term which Wynne took to imply a
-person who did not go to the City in the morning.
-
-“Idle and good for nothing,” said his father—“never do anything useful
-in this world.”
-
-If by doing anything useful he implied the achievement of business
-success his remarks were certainly true, and yet there were features in
-Clementine Rendall which called for and deserved a kindlier mention.
-
-He was born, it will be remembered, at a time when his father’s virility
-had to some extent abated. He was, in a way, an old man’s child, free
-from all ambitions toward personal advancement. Heredity had endowed him
-with imagination, appreciation, a charming exterior, a fascinating
-address, and an infinite capacity for doing nothing. At the clubs—and
-he was a member of many—his appearance was always greeted with
-enthusiasm. Few men could claim a greater popularity with both men and
-women, and his generosity was as unfailing as his good humour.
-
-There was no real occasion for Clementine Rendall to work, for he had
-inherited what little money his father had to leave, and a comfortable
-fortune from his mother, which he made no effort to enlarge.
-
-Wynne’s father, who had not profited by the decease of either of his
-parents, did not love his brother Clementine any the better in
-consequence. He was a man who liked money and desired it greatly. He was
-fond of its appearance, its power, and the pleasing sounds it gave when
-jingled in the pocket.
-
-At the reading of the will there had been something of a scene on
-account of a piece of posthumous fun from the late Edward’s pen:
-
-“To my son Clementine I will and bequeath my entire fortune and estate,
-real and personal.” And written in pencil at the foot of the page—“To
-that pillar of commerce, Robert Everett Rendall, who was once my son, I
-bequeath a quarter of a pound of China tea, to be chosen according to
-his taste.”
-
-It was on a bright Sunday morning that Clem Rendall appeared at “The
-Cedars,” and his visit was entirely unexpected.
-
-“Morning,” he greeted the maid who opened the door. “Family at home?”
-
-Wynne’s father came out into the hall to see who the visitor might be.
-
-“Hullo, Robert,” said Clem, “coming for a walk?”
-
-Nearly ten years had elapsed since their last meeting, and Mr. Rendall,
-senior, conceived that the tone of his brother’s address lacked
-propriety.
-
-“This is a surprise, Clem,” he observed, soberly enough. His eyes
-travelled disapprovingly over his brother’s loose tweed suit,
-yellow-spotted necktie, and soft felt hat.
-
-“Such a lovely day, I took a train to Wimbledon and determined to walk
-over to Richmond Park. Passing your house reminded me. Are you coming?”
-
-“I don’t go for walks on Sunday, Clem.”
-
-“Do you not?”
-
-It was at this point that Wynne, who was coming down the stairs, halted
-and noted with admiration and surprise the bluff, hearty figure of the
-strange visitor, who wore no gloves and carried no cane, and whose
-clothes seemed to breathe contempt for Sabbatical traditions.
-
-“Do you not? Why not?”
-
-“Some of us go to church on Sunday.”
-
-“Do you go because you want to go or because it’s Sunday?”
-
-Wynne’s heart almost stopped beating. Those were his feelings about
-half-past eight breakfast expressed in words. Apparently Clem neither
-desired nor expected a reply, for he put another question:
-
-“How’s tea, Robert? ’Strordinary thing, here are you—most respectable
-fellow living—deliberately supplying a beverage that causes more
-scandal among its consumers than any other in the world. Opium’s a joke
-to it. Ever thought of that?”
-
-“No, and don’t intend to.”
-
-“Ha, well—it’s worth while. Hullo! Who’s this?” His eye fell upon
-Wynne.
-
-“This is my younger son. Wynne—come along, my boy—gaping there! Shake
-hands with your Uncle Clementine.”
-
-Wynne did not require a second invitation, but descended the stairs two
-at a time.
-
-“Frail little devil, aren’t you?” said Clem, enveloping the small hand
-of his nephew. “Jove! Robert, but there’s a bit of the old man in
-him—notice it? Something about the eyes—and mouth. How old are you,
-youngster?”
-
-“I’m nine,” said Wynne.
-
-“Nine, eh! Fine age. Just beginning to break the bud and feel the sun.
-Wish I were nine, and all to make. Don’t you wish you were nine,
-Robert?”
-
-“I do not.”
-
-“’Course you do. If you were breaking the bud at nine you wouldn’t graft
-the stem with a tea-plant. Would he, youngster? Not on purpose. He’d
-pitch it a bit higher than that—see himself a larkspur or a foxglove
-before he’d be satisfied. Well, what about this walk? Bring the
-youngster too.”
-
-“I think his mother has already arranged—”
-
-“Nonsense! If you don’t care to come he and I’ll go together. Get your
-hat, son.”
-
-For the first time in memory Wynne was grateful for the hat-rack being
-in the hall. He snatched his cap from a peg and ran into the front
-garden before his father had time to say no.
-
-Apparently Clem realized that an embargo would in all probability be
-placed on the expedition, for he only waited long enough to say:
-
-“Expect us when you see us,” and followed Wynne, closing the front door
-behind him.
-
-“Come on, youngster,” he ordered; “we must sprint the first mile or
-they’ll put bloodhounds on our track.”
-
-He gripped Wynne’s hand and raced him down the road. At the corner a fly
-was standing, with the driver dozing upon the box.
-
-“Jump in,” shouted Uncle Clem. Then “Drive like the devil, Jehu. We’ve
-broken into the Bank of England and Bow Street runners are after us.”
-
-The driver was a cheerful soul, and he whipped up the horse to a
-galumphing canter.
-
-Wynne was quite speechless from laughter and excitement. When at last he
-recovered his voice it was to say:
-
-“But you haven’t told him where to go, Uncle.”
-
-“Wouldn’t be half such fun if we knew. Besides, he’s a fellow with
-imagination—he knows what to do. He’ll take us to a secret place in the
-heart of the country where we can bury the treasure. I wouldn’t be a bit
-surprised if he took us to Richmond Park.”
-
-He spoke loud enough for the driver to hear, and was rewarded for his
-subtlety by an almost imperceptible inclination of the shiny black hat,
-and the cab took a sharp turn to the left along a road leading over the
-common in the direction of Sheen Gate.
-
-Uncle Clem preserved the hunted attitude until they had covered the best
-part of a mile; then he leant back with a sigh of relief.
-
-“I believe we have shaken off our pursuers,” he declared, “and can
-breathe easily once more. Hullo!” pointing to the sky, “that’s a
-hawk—see him? Wonderful fellows, hawks! Always up in the clouds rushing
-through space, and only coming to earth to snatch at a bit of food.
-That’s the right idea, y’know. Never do any good if you stick to the
-ground all the while. ’Course he’s a nasty-tempered fellow, and a bit of
-a buccaneer, but there’s a good deal to be said in favour of him.”
-
-The look of admiration on Wynne’s face made him smile and shake his
-head.
-
-“No, you are wrong in thinking that, youngster. There’s nothing of the
-hawk about me. I lack the energy that compels his headlong flights. One
-might say that I was a bit of a lark, for I enjoy a flutter in the blue,
-and I can’t help lifting a song of praise when I get there.”
-
-Wynne did not dare to open his lips, lest he should stay the course of
-this wonderful being’s reflections. It was almost too good to be true to
-find himself actually in contact with some one who spoke with such
-glorious enthusiasm and spirit about these delightful unearthly matters,
-and whose conversation seemed to bear no relation to time-tables and
-ordinary concerns of life. So he nodded very gravely and edged a little
-nearer the big man in the rough tweed suit.
-
-Uncle Clem understood the impulse, and slipped his hand through his
-little nephew’s arm. He took possession of Wynne’s hand and raised it in
-his palm.
-
-“All of us have five fingers and five senses, and most of us use none of
-them. Yes, most of us are like mussels on a rock, who do no more than
-open their shells for the tide to drift victuals into their mouths.
-That’s the thing to avoid, y’know—molluscry. What are you going to do
-with your five fingers and your five senses, youngster?”
-
-“I—I don’t quite know what I will do with them, Uncle,” Wynne replied,
-hesitatingly. Then, with more assurance—“But I know what I shan’t do
-with them.”
-
-“Yes?”
-
-“I shan’t do things because they always have been done before.”
-
-Clementine laughed. “Not a bad beginning,” he said; “but you want to be
-very sure of the alternative. No good pushing over a house if you can’t
-build a better. You didn’t know your grandfather—no end of a fine
-fellow he was—used his brain and his hands to some effect. He was an
-artist.”
-
-“Oh, was he?” said Wynne, with a shade of disappointment. He had never
-been told before.
-
-“Doesn’t that please you?”
-
-“I don’t know, Uncle. I think it would be nice to be an artist, but—”
-
-“Yes?”
-
-“We’ve got some pictures at home, and they don’t seem very nice.”
-
-“Ah, they wouldn’t. But there are all sorts of pictures, and perhaps
-yours are the wrong sort. Now, your grandfather painted the right sort.
-Here, wait a minute.” He fumbled in his pocket and produced a
-letter-case. “There!” taking a photograph from one compartment. “This is
-a copy of one of his pictures. Look at it. A faun playing his pipe to
-stupid villagers. D’you see the expression on his face? He looks very
-serious, doesn’t he, and yet you and I know that he’s laughing. Can you
-guess why he’s laughing?”
-
-Wynne took the photograph and studied it carefully. At length he said:
-
-“He’s laughing because they can’t understand the tune he’s playing.”
-
-“Bravo!” cried Uncle Clem, and clapped him on the back. “Any more?”
-
-Wynne turned to the picture again.
-
-“Some of them aren’t paying attention. Look at that one—he’s cutting a
-piece of stick to amuse himself. And this—he looks just like his father
-does when he’s wondering if he has time to catch the train.”
-
-“Oh, excellent! That’s precisely what he is doing. If he had been born
-in a later age he’d have been looking at his watch—as it is he is
-telling the time by the sun—see it falling there between the
-trees?—and he seems to be saying, ‘If this fellow goes on much longer I
-shall miss my tea.’ Don’t you think that picture was worth painting?”
-
-“Yes,” said Wynne; “but I’ve never seen a picture like that before. Ours
-are all lighthouses and things. What is the name of the man who is
-playing the pipe?”
-
-“He’s a faun—or, as some people would say—a satyr.”
-
-“I’d like to be a faun,” said Wynne, “but if I were I should get into a
-fearful temper with the people who didn’t like my tunes. I should hit
-them over the head with my pipe.”
-
-“You’d cease to be a satyr if you did that. To be a proper satyr you
-must smile and go on playing until at last they do understand. That’s
-the artist’s job in this world, and it is a job too—a job and a fearful
-responsibility.”
-
-“Why is it?”
-
-“Because at heart the villagers don’t want to understand, and if you
-feel it’s your duty to make them—your duty to stir their souls with
-music—then you must be doubly sure that you give them the right music.
-A mistake in a row of figures doesn’t matter—any one can alter
-that—but a false note of music—a false word upon the page—a false
-brush-mark upon a canvas stands for all time.”
-
-“I see,” breathed Wynne. “I hadn’t thought of that. I’d only thought it
-mattered to make people believe something different.”
-
-“Hullo! We’re through the gates,” exclaimed Uncle Clem. “Drive on
-somewhere near the ponds, Jehu, and deposit us there. Ever been in the
-Royal Park of Richmond before, young fellow?”
-
-Wynne shook his head. His mind did not switch over to a new train of
-thought as rapidly as his uncle’s, and it still hovered over the subject
-of the picture, which he kept in his hand.
-
-“Keep it if you like,” said Uncle Clem, following the train of his
-nephew’s thoughts. “Keep it and think about it.”
-
-“Oh, may I really? It would be lovely if I might.” His eyes feasted on
-his new possession. “Uncle, there are two of the villagers who seem to
-understand, aren’t there? These two, holding hands.”
-
-“Ah, to be sure they do. That’s because they are lovers.”
-
-“Lovers?”
-
-“Yes, lovers understand all manner of things that other people don’t. In
-fact, only a lover can properly understand. But I’ll tell you all about
-that later on.”
-
-“Later on” is so much kindlier a phrase than “When you are old enough.”
-
-“There, put it in your pocket. What—afraid of crumpling it? Half a
-minute, then; I’ll turn out the letter-case and you can have that too.”
-
-And so Wynne came to possess a most marvellous picture and a crocodile
-case, bearing in silver letters “C. R.”
-
-“I think,” said Clem to the driver, as they descended by the
-rhododendrons near the ponds, “it would be a good idea if you drove to
-Kingston and bought us a lunch. You know the sort of thing—meat pies,
-jam tarts, ginger beer, fairy cakes—anything you can think of. We’ll
-meet you here in an hour and a half.”
-
-He gave the driver a five-pound note and smiled him farewell.
-
-It was very splendid to be associated with a man who would trust a
-stranger with so huge a fortune without so much as taking the number of
-the cab. Wynne could not help recalling the precautions his father had
-taken when once he had despatched a messenger to collect a parcel from
-the chemist’s. The comparison was greatly to the detriment of Mr.
-Rendall, senior.
-
-“This is one of the wildest parts of the park,” announced Uncle Clem.
-“If we go hushily we shall see rabbits before they see us, and perhaps
-almost get within touch of a deer.”
-
-“What, real deer—stags?”
-
-“Any amount of them. They bell in the mating season, and have battles
-royal on the mossy sward.”
-
-“And can you get near enough to touch one?”
-
-“Not quite. You think you will, and tiptoe toward him with your hand
-outstretched, and then, just as you almost feel the warmth of him at the
-tips of your fingers—hey presto! Zing! he’s gone, and divots of earth
-are flying round your ears. That’s why the stag is the ideal
-beast—because he’s elusive.”
-
-“You could shoot him,” suggested Wynne.
-
-“Yes, you can kill an ideal, and a lot of good may it do you dead.
-Shooting is no good, but if you run after him, as like as not he’ll lead
-you through lovely, unheard-of places. Here’s an umbrageous oak. We’ll
-spread ourselves out beneath it and praise God for the sunshine that
-makes us appreciate the shade.”
-
-He threw himself luxuriously on the soft green carpet, and felt in his
-pocket for a pipe. It was not until he had carefully filled it that he
-found he had no matches.
-
-“This,” he said, “is really terrible. What is to be done?”
-
-“I’ll run off and find some one,” exclaimed Wynne, enthusiastic at the
-chance of rendering a service. But Uncle Clem restrained him.
-
-“No, no,” he said, “we must think of more ingenious methods than that.
-You and I are alone on a desert island, but we possess a watch. Casting
-our eyes around we discover a rotten bough. Look!” He broke a little
-fallen branch that lay in the grass beside his hand. “The inside you see
-is mere tinder. Now we will roll out into the sun and operate.”
-
-It was some while before the concentrated ray from the watch-glass
-produced a spark upon the wood.
-
-“Blow for all you are worth,” cried Uncle Clem. “Splendid—it is
-beginning to catch! Oh! blow again, Friday—see it smoulders! One more
-blow—a gale this time. Oh, excellent Man Friday!—what a lucky fellow
-Robinson Crusoe is!”
-
-He dropped the ember into his pipe and sucked furiously. At last tiny
-puffs of rewarding smoke began to emerge from his lips. His features
-relaxed and he grinned.
-
-“We have conquered,” he declared—“earned the reward for our labours!
-But the odd thing is that now the pipe is alight I am not at all sure if
-I really want it.”
-
-Every boy must possess a hero—it is the lodestar of his being. He can
-lie awake at night, happy in the mere reflection of that wonderful
-being’s prowess. In imagination, enemies, one by one, are arraigned
-before the protecting hero, who, with the justice of gods admixed with a
-finely-tempered satire, judges their sins and sends them forth
-repentant. But this is not all. He can lift the soul to empiric heights,
-and open at a touch new and wonderful doors of thought and action. He
-can enthuse, inspire, illumine, refresh old ideals—inspirit new—make
-dark become light, and light so brilliant that the eyes are dazzled by
-the whiteness thereof.
-
-The hero occurs by circumstance or deed, and his responsibility is
-boundless. He must think as a king thinks when the eyes of the nation
-rest upon him—he must tread all ways with a sure foot and proud
-bearing—chest out and head high. He must not slip upon the peel that
-lies in the highway, nor turn aside to escape its menace; he must crush
-it beneath his heel as he strides along, a smile upon his lips, his cane
-swinging—the veriest picture of majesty and resource.
-
-Wynne Rendall found his hero that Sunday in Richmond Park, and
-worshipped him with the intense devotion of which only a boy is capable.
-God, he conceived, must have had some very personal handiwork in the
-fashioning of Uncle Clem. He saw him as a man possessed of every
-possible charm and virtue, without one single unpleasing factor to
-offset them. It is not unnatural, therefore, that Wynne should have
-fallen down and worshipped, and not unnatural that there should have
-been a dry ache in his throat as, in the lavender twilight, the cab
-turned the corner of their street and slackened speed.
-
-“Let’s say good-night outside, Uncle,” he suggested, huskily.
-
-Perhaps he hoped his uncle would give him a kiss, but Clementine had
-something far better in store. He threw an arm round the narrow little
-shoulders and gave Wynne a combined pat and hug. The broad comradeship
-of the action was fine—magnificent. Pals both! One good man to another!
-it seemed to say. Stanley and Livingstone must have met and parted in
-suchwise.
-
-“A capital day,” said Uncle Clem. “We must repeat it—you and I. Better
-wait, Jehu, for I shan’t be long.”
-
-The atmosphere of the drawing-room struck a chill as they entered. From
-the reserve displayed it was clear that Wynne’s parents had been
-discussing the expedition adversely.
-
-“Go and change your boots, Wynne,” said his mother.
-
-It was a cold welcome, he reflected, as he departed in obedience to the
-command.
-
-“That’s a good boy,” remarked Uncle Clem.
-
-“I hope he will prove so,” said Mr. Rendall, devoutly, as befitted a
-Sunday evening.
-
-Mrs. Rendall said nothing. She had nothing to say. Granted the necessary
-degree of courage she would have been glad to ask Clem to change his
-boots, but circumstances being as they were she was denied the
-privilege, and kept silent.
-
-“Yes, there’s a lot in him. You’ll have to go to work pretty carefully
-to bring it out. A rare bulb with delicate shoots. Touch ’em the wrong
-way and they’ll wither, but with the right amount of nursing and the
-right degree of temperature there are illimitable possibilities.
-Interesting thing education!”
-
-“Yes,” concurred Mr. Rendall. “A sound business education fits a boy for
-after life.”
-
-“Business! H’m! Think he suggests a likely subject for business, Robert?
-I fancy, when the time comes, the boy’s bent may lie in other
-directions.”
-
-“The boy will do as he is told, Clem.”
-
-Clem smiled, looked at the ceiling, and shook his head.
-
-“Which of us do?” he said. “Never even the likely ones. You may bend a
-twig, but it springs straight again when your hand is removed. Seems to
-me our first duty toward our children is to encourage their mental
-direction and not deflect it. Don’t you agree, Mrs. Rendall?”
-
-“Oh, yes,” replied that lady, with her inevitable falling inflection.
-
-“No, you don’t,” snapped her husband, “so why say you do? No reason at
-all! In the matter of educating children, Clem, I cannot see you are
-qualified to hold an opinion. The first duty of a parent is to instil in
-the child a sense of duty to its parent.”
-
-“Oh, bosh!” said Clem, pleasantly. “Absolute bosh. Respect and duty are
-not a matter of convention or of heredity, they must be inspired.”
-
-“We are not likely to agree, so why proceed?”
-
-“If we only proceeded on lines of agreement we should come to an
-immediate standstill. Let’s thrash out the matter. To my thinking, the
-father should respect the child more than the child should respect the
-father. It must be so. The poor little devil comes into the world
-through no impulse of its own. It had no choice in the matter. Its
-coming is impressed—it is conscripted into being—that’s indisputable.
-Then, surely to goodness, it is up to us to give it, as it were, the
-Freedom of the City—the freedom of the fields, and every possible
-latitude for expansion and self-expression. To do less were an
-intolerable injustice. Our only excuse for producing life is that we may
-admire its beauty—not that it may admire ours.”
-
-“This is wild talk,” began Mr. Rendall. But Clem was too advanced to
-heed interruption.
-
-“The most degrading thing you can hear a man say to his child is, ‘After
-all I’ve done for you.’ It should be, ‘Have I done enough for you? Have
-I made good?’ That is the straightforward attitude; but to bring a child
-into the world against its will and to force it along lines that lead
-away from its own inclination is dastardly.” He turned suddenly to Mrs.
-Rendall. “It must be so wonderful to be a mother, so glorious to have
-accepted that mighty responsibility.”
-
-Mrs. Rendall fumbled at the threading of her silk and dropped her
-scissors to the floor. As he stooped to pick them up Clem continued:
-
-“To know that within oneself there lies the power to fashion a body for
-those tiny souls that flicker out there in the beyond.”
-
-“Clem!” Mr. Rendall tapped his foot warningly.
-
-“Ah, Robert, we know nothing of these matters—they are beyond our ken.”
-
-“A very good reason for not discussing them. The subject seems to be
-rather—”
-
-“Rather what?”
-
-“Distasteful.”
-
-“Is it? Good God! And yet we discuss our colds in the most polite
-society, and bear witness to their intensity by quoting the number of
-handkerchiefs we’ve used. We have no shame in trumpeting our petty
-thoughts of the day, but that faint bugle-call that sounds in the night
-and summons us—”
-
-“I think supper is waiting,” said Mrs. Rendall, rising to her feet. “I
-suppose you will be staying.”
-
-“Delighted,” said Clem, affably. “And I’ll bring the bugle-call with
-me.”
-
-“I trust you won’t forget that servants will be in the room,” remarked
-Mr. Rendall.
-
-“We can send ’em out to ask my cabby to wait.”
-
-Clem did not delay his departure over long. His conversational tide was
-somewhat dammed by the cold mutton and cold potatoes that formed the
-basis of his brother’s hospitality.
-
-He allowed Mr. Rendall to do the talking, and was oppressed by a great
-pity for his little nephew, who had to listen to such irritable and
-melancholy matter at every meal.
-
-Wallace and Eva, the two elder children, behaved with precision and did
-not open their lips, save for the reception of food. Wynne was
-discouraged on the few occasions he spoke, and was the recipient of
-injunctions not to “crumble his bread,” and to “sit up properly.” These
-recurred with a clockwork regularity that deprived them of the essence
-of command.
-
-The result was to make Clem feel very dejected and forlorn.
-
-He said good-bye on the doorstep and walked, alone as he thought, to the
-front gate. Arrived there he said in a very heartfelt manner:
-
-“God! What a night!” and was not a little taken aback when his brother,
-who had followed, in soft shoes, demanded:
-
-“I beg your pardon?”
-
-Clem recovered himself a little too intensely.
-
-“All these damn stars,” he replied, with a broad gesture.
-
-“H’m!” said Mr. Rendall. Then: “I hope you haven’t been putting ideas
-into that boy’s head, Clem.”
-
-“They are there already,” came the response. “Take care of them,
-Robert.”
-
-He jumped into the cab and drove away.
-
-
- IX
-
-A fall of rain and a little sunshine make a magic difference to a garden
-bed. The petals of flowers unfold—colours clear and intensify—white
-buds glisten beneath their tight-drawn casings.
-
-“We can do with a lot of this,” the flowers seemed to say. “Treat us
-aright and there is no limit to our beauty and fragrance.”
-
-But our English climate is not always amenable. Sometimes it replies
-through the mouth of a nipping norther, or by the hard, white hands of
-frost, and down go the flowers, one by one, till only the sturdiest
-remain standing.
-
-It would be no exaggeration to say that Wynne Rendall’s soul had been
-opened out, in that one day with his uncle, from forty-five to ninety
-degrees. So many things he had doubted had been made sure, and so many
-fears had been swept aside, to be replaced by finer understandings.
-
-Through Uncle Clem the world had become a new place for him. It was no
-longer a public park, with railings and finger-boards pointing the
-directions in which one might or might not proceed. He did not quite
-know what sort of place it had become, but he was radiantly confident of
-glorious possibilities. Clearly it would be the duty of all who had eyes
-to see, and ears to hear, to perform something in praise of this
-marvellous planet, and the wonderful people (_vide_ Uncle Clem) who
-walked upon it.
-
-He, Wynne, would do something—he felt the immediate need to do
-something—he would do something great. People, beholding what he had
-done, would exclaim, “This is marvellous! Why have we not been shown
-these wonders before?” Then they would feel for him the same admiration
-he felt for Uncle Clem.
-
-In the midst of these rapturous reflections came the thought that
-perhaps he was a little young to become the leader of a new movement.
-This, however, in no wise oppressed him. The younger the better. The
-distillations of his soul would be none the less rare for being
-contained in a small vessel. He would play upon a pipe to foolish
-villagers. There were foolish villagers around him in abundance. He knew
-of two in their own kitchen—hide-bound creatures who excused themselves
-from doing anything he asked on the grounds of suffering from “bones in
-their legs.” Were there not others, beside, with whom he sat daily at
-table? Charity should begin at home (there was a motto to that effect
-hanging on the wall in the spare bedroom), it should therefore begin
-with the lowest storey and work up to the highest. These people were of
-proven folly—that much he knew from personal investigation; it was his
-duty to pipe them to a better understanding. And then arrived a really
-disturbing thought. He possessed no pipe, nor any skill to play upon it
-had he possessed one. From exaltation his spirits fell to despair. Was
-the world to be denied enlightenment for so poor a reason? Such a pass
-would be unendurable.
-
-Wynne Rendall was nothing if not courageous. If he felt an impulse of
-sufficient force he would accept any hazard to give it expression. His
-bodily frailty and susceptibility to pain were no deterrents. He
-decided, therefore, while the spirit moved him the supreme moment must
-not be lost. He would have to rely upon circumstance and the fertility
-of his imagination in carrying out the campaign, and not allow his
-thoughts to be damped by knowledge of their unpreparedness. He recalled
-how yesterday the sweet environment had lent colour to much that his
-uncle had said, and reflected it would be well to profit by that lesson,
-and set the scene for his new teachings in a fashion calculated to
-promote a sympathetic atmosphere. To speak to his parents of a freer
-life and purer outlook in their drawing-room, as they had arranged it,
-would be to court failure. His father was at the City, his mother was
-out—this, then, was the ideal moment to strike a blow against symmetry
-and in favour of æsthetics.
-
-With heart sledge-hammering against his ribs, Wynne descended the stairs
-and entered the drawing-room. With disfavour his eyes roamed over the
-accustomed arrangements. Balance was the inspiring motive which had
-dominated the Rendalls’ mind when they set out their ornaments and hung
-their pictures, and balance was the motive which Wynne determined to
-destroy.
-
-Beginning with his old enemy, the mantelpiece, he cleared everything
-from it. None of these detested examples of art should remain, he
-decided. The marble clock, ticking menacingly, was crammed into the
-cabinet, where it was speedily followed by the equestrian bronzes and
-the wrought-iron candlesticks.
-
-Wynne gasped with ecstasy as he viewed the straight marble line denuded
-of these ancient eyesores. He had decided that this should be the
-abiding place for a china bowl containing tulips, a flat silver box and
-some books. They should repose there in natural positions as though set
-down by a thoughtless hand. He tried the effect, and was disappointed;
-it lacked the spirit of negligé he had designed. Then came an
-inspiration—of course, it looked wrong because of the mirrors of the
-overmantel. These immoral reflectors were at the desperate work of
-duplication, and were forcing symmetry and balance despite his
-precautions.
-
-This being the case, but one course of action was open—the overmantel
-would have to go. It was a massive affair, securely fastened to the wall
-with large brass-headed nails, and Wynne was a very small person to
-undertake its removal. To his credit it stands that he did not wilt
-before the task. He climbed upon a table and shook it to and fro until
-the nails worked loose, then, exerting all his strength he heaved
-mightily. For awhile it defied his efforts, but just as he was beginning
-to despair the plaster gave way and the mighty mass of wood and mirrors
-tilted forward. Nothing but the presence of two little legs in front
-which supported a pair of flimsy shelves prevented Wynne from being
-telescoped in the subsequent collapse. He had just time to spring to the
-floor and hand it off as the legs broke and the whole affair slithered
-to the hearthrug. The fine swept top broke like a carrot, and two of the
-side mirrors cracked from end to end. Wynne lay under the debris
-breathing very hard, and wondering if the crash had been loud enough to
-reach the ears of the servants below. Fortunately for him the kitchen
-was at the other end of the house, and there came no rush of feet from
-that direction. He waited a few terribly anxious moments, then crawled
-out and surveyed his handiwork.
-
-No great revolution appears at its best in the initial stages, and
-certainly this was a case in point. Balance he had destroyed beyond all
-dispute, but in its place had arisen chaos. Large patches of plaster
-littered the carpet, and the grate was filled with pieces of wood and
-wreckage. Where once the overmantel had covered its surface, the
-wallpaper, in contradistinction to the faded colours surrounding, showed
-bright and new. It seemed as though the spook of the detestable affair
-still haunted the spot, and would continue to do so down all the ages.
-
-In that moment of extreme desolation Wynne experienced the sensations
-which possess a pioneer when he doubts if he has the strength to cross
-the ranges. He had, however, already committed himself too deeply to
-hang back, and so, with feverish energy, he began to drag the remains
-into a corner of the room. As he did so he overset an occasional table
-bearing a potted fern and some china knick-knacks, all of which were
-smashed to atoms.
-
-With this calamity Wynne Rendall lost control of himself. The mainspring
-of his idea snapped, and he became merely a whirlwind of senseless
-activity. He dragged pictures from the walls and thrust them beneath
-tables, he wrenched the green plush curtains from the lacquered pole and
-cast them anyhow—over chairs and sofas—the straight-laid rugs he
-pulled askew, he flung an armful of books haphazard on the top of the
-piano—he set fire to the crinkly paper in the grate and threw two
-aspidistras into the garden. An insane humour seizing him, he brought in
-the hat-rack from the hall, and hung coloured plates on all its pegs.
-
-At the end of an hour the effect he had produced could have been more
-simply arrived at, and with less destruction to property, if some expert
-from Barcelona had exploded a bomb in the apartment.
-
-Wynne’s clothing was awry, his fingers cut and bleeding, and his face
-covered with dust and perspiration, when his father, followed by his
-mother, opened the door and stood spellbound upon the threshold.
-
-With eyes glittering like diamonds he turned and faced them. The long
-pause before any word was spoken was the hardest persecution he had to
-bear. Then came the inevitable:
-
-“What the devil is the meaning of this?”
-
-“It means—” he began, but the words stuck in his throat.
-
-“Are you responsible for this?” Mr. Rendall took a step toward him.
-
-Wynne nodded. “Yes-s,” he breathed.
-
-“Is he mad?” Mr. Rendall appealed to his wife, but she was too
-flabbergasted to utter a sound. “Are you mad?”
-
-“No,” said Wynne. He knew he must speak. His whole being called on him
-to speak, and yet, try as he would, the words refused to come. Oh, why,
-why wasn’t Uncle Clem present to say the things he could not express? If
-he failed to establish his position there and then the chance would be
-gone for ever.
-
-“You had better speak,” said his father, “better explain the meaning of
-this—and explain quick.” The last part of the sentence rose to a shout.
-
-“I did it—I did it because you are all wrong—that’s why—all wrong.”
-
-“Wrong! What about?”
-
-“Oh, everything. It’s—y-you can see, now, you were wr-wrong—c-can’t
-you? Now that I’ve—oh, you were so wrong—”
-
-“There won’t be much wrong with what I intend doing to you, my boy.”
-
-A hand fell heavily on his shoulder, but he did not wince.
-
-“Won’t make any difference.”
-
-“We’ll see about that.”
-
-“Uncle Clem said they didn’t want to understand—but you just have to
-make them understand, and go on until they do.”
-
-“Did he? Well, you’re on the point of understanding something you’ve
-never properly appreciated before. Out of the way, Mary.”
-
-Mr. Rendall selected a cane from the umbrella stand, as he thrust Wynne
-down the hall to the dining-room. Over the arm of the leather saddlebag
-chair he bent the supple little body, and in the course of the half
-minute which followed he performed an ancient ritual which even Mr.
-Squeers would have found it difficult to improve upon.
-
-When it was over he threw the cane upon the table and folded his hands
-behind his back.
-
-“Had enough?” he interrogated.
-
-The poor little faun twisted and straightened himself. His face was
-paper-white, and his breath came short and gasping, one of his hands
-fumbled on the chair-back for support, and his head worked from side to
-side.
-
-As a man Mr. Rendall found the sight unpleasant to look upon, but as a
-father he felt the need to carry the matter through to its lawful
-conclusion.
-
-“If you’ve had enough say you are sorry. I want no explanations.”
-
-Wynne forced himself to concentrate his thoughts away from bodily
-anguish.
-
-“I’ve had enough—but it doesn’t mean that I’m sorry.”
-
-“Silence!” roared his father.
-
-“I’m not sorry—not a bit sorry.”
-
-“D’you intend to do this kind of thing again, then?”
-
-“No. I shan’t do it again—not yet.”
-
-“Then get out of the room—get to bed at once.”
-
-Uncle Clem knew. The villagers do not want to understand. Wynne groped
-his way from the room and up the stairs. The world was not such a
-wonderful place after all.
-
-Meanwhile Mrs. Rendall had been taking an inventory of the disaster in
-the drawing-room. She sought her husband with details of the result.
-
-“The overmantel is quite ruined,” she announced.
-
-“Damn the overmantel!” he retorted.
-
-“Did Wynne say he was sorry?”
-
-“Sorry—no—he’s not sorry.”
-
-“Then I cannot think what he did it for,” she remarked illogically.
-
-“Oh, don’t talk like a fool,” he implored.
-
-“Two of the aspidistras have been thrown into the garden,” said she.
-
-Actions resulting from mental suggestion are sometimes immediate. Mr.
-Rendall caught up the sugar-castor and sent it hurtling through the air,
-and once more “Clovelly” faced the world without a glass.
-
-“Oh dear!” lamented Mrs. Rendall, “there seems such a lot of smashing
-going on today, one can’t keep pace with it all.”
-
-
- X
-
-Next morning found Wynne ill and feverish. The mental excitement and
-bodily pain of the previous day had proved more than his constitution
-could endure. Wherefore he tossed in bed, lying chiefly on his side for
-obvious reasons. Mr. Rendall was thorough, of that there was no
-question. Wynne was able to reassure himself of his father’s
-thoroughness when he touched his small flank with tentative finger-tips.
-
-As the fever burnt within him he felt mightily sorry for himself. The
-world had used him hardly when he sought to offer rare and wonderful
-gifts. That this should be so was a great tragedy—and a great
-mystery—also it was infinitely sad. The sadness appealed to him most,
-and he wept. He wept very copiously and for a long time. The weeping was
-a pleasant relief and a compensation for misery. He felt, if the world
-could behold his tears, they would assemble about his bedside and
-realize the injustice wrought by their deafness and stupidity—they
-would be compassionate and anxious to atone. Then, maybe, the great god
-of expression would provide him with the words to make his meaning
-clear. With this conviction he wept the louder, hoping to attract
-attention, but none came nigh him. Accordingly he wept afresh, and this
-time from disappointment. In the midst of this final mood of tears his
-brother, Wallace, came into the room.
-
-Wallace had been privileged to see the state of the drawing-room, and
-although he knew Wynne’s features well enough, he felt the need to
-scrutinize afresh the appearance of one who had wilfully produced such
-havoc. The characteristic is common to humanity—a man’s deeds create a
-revival of interest in his externals, hence the success of Madame
-Tussaud’s and the halfpenny illustrated press.
-
-At the sight of his brother, Wynne stopped crying, and composed himself
-to the best of his ability.
-
-“What do you want?” he asked.
-
-Wallace found some difficulty in replying. No one cares to admit they
-are visiting the Chamber of Horrors for pleasure, although that is the
-true explanation of their presence. At length he said:
-
-“Shut up—” and added in support of his command, “you silly fool.”
-
-“You needn’t stare at me if I’m a silly fool,” said Wynne.
-
-“A cat may look at a king,” was Wallace’s considered retort.
-
-“Well, I’d rather a cat looked at me than you did,” said Wynne, feeling
-he had nearly brought off something very telling.
-
-Wallace’s intention had not been to excite an argument on reciprocal
-lines. He desired to get at his brother’s reasons for the wholesale
-smash-up downstairs, consequently he allowed the remark to pass
-unchallenged.
-
-“Why did you break the overmantel and all those vases?” he demanded.
-
-“Because they were beastly and ugly.”
-
-“Beastly and ugly?”
-
-“Yes, horrid—and there were _two_ of each of them.”
-
-Wallace began to feel out of his depth.
-
-“But they were in _the drawing-room_,” he said.
-
-Since the drawing-room in every house is, or should be, the abode of
-art, it was obviously absurd to say that the appointments thereof were
-beastly or ugly.
-
-Wynne did not answer, so Wallace fell back on his beginnings.
-
-“You _must_ be a fool. Father gave you a good hiding, didn’t he?”
-
-“Yes.”
-
-“Did it hurt?”
-
-“Yes.”
-
-“I’ve never had a hiding.” There was rich pride in the avowal.
-
-“You’ve never done anything worth getting one for.”
-
-“Haven’t I? ’Tany rate, I bet you don’t behave like this again.”
-
-“I bet I do,” said Wynne.
-
-“When will you?” exclaimed Wallace, conscious of great excitement, and
-hoping that on the next occasion he might be privileged to witness the
-work of destruction in full swing.
-
-“Not yet.”
-
-Wallace hesitated. “What room will you smash up next time?” he asked.
-
-“Oh, it isn’t for that,” cried Wynne, “you can’t see—nobody
-understands—”
-
-“Then shut up,” said Wallace, and departed.
-
-Strange as it may seem, this interview had great results in moulding
-Wynne Rendall’s character. From his brother’s obvious inability to
-realize any motive in his action, other than a wilful desire to destroy,
-he turned to an active consideration of what his motives had been.
-
-What was this message he had wished to convey to the world, and had
-stumbled so hopelessly in endeavouring to express? It was the first time
-he had put the question directly to himself. He knew he had had a
-quarrel with many existing matters, but in what manner did he propose to
-better them? And the answer came that he did not know.
-
-He had committed the very error against which Uncle Clem had warned
-him—the error of breaking down an old régime before he was able to
-supply an agreeable alternative. Small wonder, then, if his actions had
-savoured of lunacy to those who had beheld them. In imagination he
-pictured the drawing-room as it appeared after he had dealt with it, and
-was bound to confess that his labours had rendered no service to the
-shrine of comfort, art or beauty. Had he himself come suddenly upon such
-a room he would have been disgusted by its foolish and wanton disorder.
-
-The revolution had been a failure—complete and utter. Sobriety had been
-dragged from his throne, and havoc and ruin reigned instead. Havoc and
-Ruin—deplorable monarchs both, of senseless countenance and destructive
-hands. Small wonder if their subjects struck at them with sticks and
-staves. Small wonder if they could not see the ideals that lay hidden
-behind the wreckage of the great upheaval.
-
-The fact stood out clearly that his talents were not ripe. The time had
-not come when his song should thrill the world. But come it should, some
-day. To that end all his energies should be conserved. Yes, he would
-make the world a listener, but he would give it full measure for its
-attention, and even though each note should cut them as a knife—it
-should not be the gross stab of a maniac lurking in a dark doorway, but
-as the cut of a surgeon’s scalpel, who cuts to cure.
-
-Wynne sat up in bed, although to do so caused him pain, and registered a
-vow that he would learn all there was to learn, whereby in the end he
-might teach the more.
-
-
-
-
- PART TWO
- THE PURPLE PATCH
-
-
- I
-
-A man with a call is a very estimable fellow, but is apt to prove
-tiresome to his companions. The same might truthfully be said to apply
-to a child, although cases of a call in a child’s disposition are
-fortunately not of very frequent occurrence.
-
-After this one excess Wynne’s behaviour provided his parents with little
-reason for complaint. He developed a strange amenity to domestic
-discipline—he went to bed when he was told, and did not pursue his old
-habits of asking “stupid questions.” But there was about him a certain
-secretiveness at once perplexing and irritating. He obeyed readily, and
-accepted correction in good part, but there hovered round the corners of
-his mouth a queer and cynical smile. His expression seemed to say, “You
-are in command, and what you say I must do I will do, but of course your
-rulings are quite absurd.”
-
-Mr. Rendall endured this inexplicable attitude for several months, but
-finally was so annoyed that he wrote the master of the day-school of
-which Wynne was a member, and asked him to investigate the matter and
-inflict what punishments might seem adequate. To this letter he received
-a reply to the effect that as Wynne was showing such astonishing
-diligence at his books he deemed it advisable to ignore an offence
-which, at most, was somewhat hypothetical.
-
-Mr. Rendall was by no means satisfied of the advisability of taking so
-lenient a course. He considered it pointed to a lack of authority which
-might well prove fatal in the moulding of character. He decided,
-therefore, to tackle Wynne himself upon the subject, and did so in his
-accustomed style.
-
-Wynne was working at Latin declensions in the morning-room when his
-father entered.
-
-“Proper time for everything,” he said. “Put away that book and go out
-for a walk—plenty of time for book reading in school hours.”
-
-“All right,” said Wynne, with resignation. As he walked toward the door
-the smile curled the corners of his mouth.
-
-“Here! come back,” ordered Mr. Rendall. “Now then what are you smiling
-at?”
-
-Wynne thought for a moment, then he answered, “I shan’t tell you.”
-
-“Oh, you won’t!”
-
-“No. I obey what you tell me to do, and without any fuss, but I shan’t
-tell you why I smile.”
-
-“We’ll see about that. P’r’aps I can find a way to stop it.”
-
-“You couldn’t.”
-
-“Oho! couldn’t I?”
-
-“No, because I couldn’t stop it myself,” said Wynne, and walked from the
-room.
-
-He had learnt the value of a Parthian arrow. To remain after the
-discharge of a shaft was to court painful consequences. It was therefore
-his habit, after once unmasking his batteries, to withdraw them speedily
-to new emplacements. This was not cowardice, but diplomacy, for there
-was no value in risking chastisement which might be avoided.
-
-The chief point of difference between Wynne and his father was that,
-whereas Wynne only cared to inquire into matters of which he had no
-knowledge, Mr. Rendall resented inquiring into concerns of which he was
-not already thoroughly conversant. A man, woman or child whose thoughts
-ran on different lines to his own became automatically perverse and
-troublesome—a person to avoid where possible, or, if impossible, to be
-forcibly cowed into subservience to his rulings. As in America a
-Standard automobile is forced upon the public, so in his own home Mr.
-Rendall strove to standardize mental outlook and opinion. Hitherto, at
-the expenditure of a very slight amount of authority, his efforts had
-been rewarded with some success, but in Wynne he perceived the task was
-one which bade fair to stretch his patience to the breaking point.
-
-Wynne obeyed his rulings with submission, but it was clearly evident his
-acceptance of them was purely superficial. In no case was it apparent
-that his son was satisfied either of their justice or value. Such a
-state of affairs was intolerable. Thoughts of it invaded the privacy of
-his mind during the sacred hours spent at the City. Something would have
-to be done—stringent reforms—penalties—hours spent in the
-bedroom—bread and water. These and many other corrective measures
-occurred to Mr. Rendall as he sat behind his paper in the suburban
-train. And yet the whole thing was a confounded nuisance. He didn’t want
-to be bothered—that was the truth of the matter. Life had come to a
-pretty pass if, after fifteen years of comparative matrimonial quietude,
-a man had to worry his head about the conduct of the people who dwelt
-beneath his roof.
-
-Had Mr. Rendall compiled a dictionary some of his definitions would have
-been as under:—
-
-_Home._—A point of departure and return, costing more in upkeep than it
-should. A place for the exercise of criticism—a place from which a man
-draws his views on the injustice of local taxation—a spot where a man
-desires a little peace and doesn’t get it.
-
-_Wife._—A person who is always a trifle disappointing—a woman who does
-not understand the value of money—a woman who asks silly questions
-about meals and fails to provide the dishes a man naturally desires.
-Some one who may be trusted to say the wrong thing, who lacks proper
-authority over the servants and children, and who does not appreciate
-all that has been done for her.
-
-_Child._—A being who makes a noise about the house, the proper
-recipient of corrections, the abiding place of “don’ts.” A being who
-occasionally accompanies a man for a short walk, and is precluded from
-doing so again on account of ill-behaviour. A creature with irritating
-habits, unlikely to repay all that has been spent upon it in doctor’s
-bills and education.
-
-These instances should give a clearer understanding of Mr. Rendall’s
-outlook. They may serve also to enlist our sympathies on his behalf in
-the unhappy possession of such a son as Wynne.
-
-Mr. Rendall conceived that a subject that could not be understood should
-be immediately dismissed, and he applied the same theory to human
-beings. Taking this into consideration it is surprising that he did not
-pack Wynne off to a boarding-school and so rid himself of the source of
-his irritation. But Mr. Rendall, however, was not prepared to take risks
-where money was concerned. Rather than squander large sums upon
-education, the benefits of which his son might prove too young to
-appreciate, he determined that his own convenience must be sacrificed.
-He seriously considered the idea of sending Wynne to a cheaper school
-than Wyckley, but abandoned the project as being too hazardous.
-
-Wyckley was not a first-class school, but it had the reputation of
-providing boys with an excellent business education. To send Wynne to a
-cheaper might result in equipping him less well to earn his own
-livelihood.
-
-He therefore endured the inconvenience of Wynne’s society until he had
-celebrated his twelfth birthday, and then with a feeling of consummate
-relief dispatched him to Wyckley complete with an ironbound wooden box
-and a deplorably weak constitution.
-
-
- II
-
-On the day before Wynne’s departure Clementine Rendall paid a surprise
-visit. Wynne had not seen him since the day in Richmond Park, three
-years before, for his parents had discouraged their intimacy, but Uncle
-Clem still lived in his mind as a very romantic figure.
-
-Wynne had been buying some of the kit required for his school equipment,
-and on his return he found his father and Uncle Clem in the
-morning-room. His heart leapt at the sight of the big man, still
-splendid as of yore, but the three years of suppression through which he
-had passed had chilled the old impulse of enthusiasm which had brought
-him down the stairs three at a time on their first meeting.
-
-“Hullo, youngster!” came the cheery voice.
-
-“Good afternoon, Uncle Clem,” said Wynne, extending his thin white hand.
-
-“Looks ill!” observed Clem to his brother.
-
-Mr. Rendall raised his shoulders.
-
-“Boy’s disposition is unhealthy,” he remarked, “which naturally reacts
-on his physique.”
-
-Clem flashed a glance from the speaker to the subject, and noted how the
-corners of Wynne’s mouth curled down as much as to say, “You see what I
-am up against.”
-
-“You’re hard to please. Boy’s all right! Aren’t you, youngster?”
-
-“The boy is far from all right, Clem. He appears to lead a double life
-with some private joke of his own.”
-
-“I’ll ask him,” said Clem.
-
-“What father says is true. I have a private joke, uncle.”
-
-“Then get it off your chest, youngster. A joke is like a drink, and must
-not be taken alone.”
-
-Wynne pondered awhile before replying, then he produced his first
-epigram.
-
-“Yes, but you can’t share a drink with a teetotaler.”
-
-The subtlety of the phrase pleased him inordinately, and he was
-surprised to see that it produced nothing but a frown from Uncle Clem.
-
-“Robert, the youngster and I will take a turn in the garden.”
-
-Mr. Rendall demurred, but Clem waved the objection aside and led the way
-down the openwork iron stairs to the lawn.
-
-“Now then,” he said. “What’s the trouble with you? Didn’t like that
-calculating remark of yours one bit.”
-
-“I’m sorry,” said Wynne, “but why should I tell them my joke, they
-couldn’t see it.”
-
-“Then keep it for the dark, old fellow, or conceal it altogether. The
-I-know-more-than-you-but-I-won’t-say-what-it-is attitude does no one any
-good.”
-
-Wynne jerked his head petulantly.
-
-“The faun was laughing in grandfather’s painting.”
-
-“Oho! So that’s it? But the villagers didn’t know he was laughing.”
-
-“You and I did.”
-
-“Perhaps. But we shouldn’t be so unsubtle as to tell them so. Consider a
-minute. Suppose we thought lots of people were very wrong, and their
-wrongness tickled our humour, d’you think the best way of putting ’em
-right would be to laugh at ’em? Take it from me it isn’t. If you laugh
-at a dog he’ll bite you, but pat him and, in time, he’ll jump through
-hoops, walk on his hind legs, and be tricksy as you want.”
-
-“They always frown at me.”
-
-“Maybe they wouldn’t if you didn’t smile at them. Just what is it you
-are trying to get at?”
-
-Wynne hesitated.
-
-“You don’t know.”
-
-“No, I don’t know yet—but some day I shall, and then won’t I let them
-have it!”
-
-He closed his mouth tight, and there was a fierce resolve in his eyes.
-
-“Then here’s a bit of advice for you. Don’t start quarrelling with the
-world you hope to reform. Remember other people must build the pulpit
-you hope to preach from. If you get their backs up before you’ve learnt
-your sermon no one but yourself will ever hear it. Lie low and gather
-all you can from the plains before you seek the Purple Patch on the hill
-top.”
-
-“Purple Patch,” repeated Wynne.
-
-“Yes. Every artist builds his tower on a Purple Patch, and in his early
-working days he sees it shining gloriously through the morning mists.
-There is honey heather there, larkspur and crimson asters, and all the
-air is brittle with new-born, virgin thoughts. I tell you, old son, that
-purple patch is worth making for, and it’s good to reflect when you have
-got there that you came by a gentleman’s way. There are some may call it
-Success, but I like the Purple Patch better. Success may be achieved at
-such a dirty price and the climber’s boots may be fouled with trodden
-flesh. Stick to the Purple Patch, Wynne, and you’ll be a man before you
-become a ghost.”
-
-Before taking his leave Clem gave Wynne a five-pound note.
-
-“It is a sad thing,” he said, “but a new boy with a five-pound note is
-far more popular at school than one without. If I were you I should blow
-a part of it at the tuck-shop and do your pals a midnight feast.”
-Privately he remarked to Mr. Rendall, “That boy is woefully fragile. I
-have some doubt as to whether you are wise in sending him to a boarding
-school. You should drop the headmaster a line saying he’ll want special
-care.”
-
-“I have already done so,” remarked Mr. Rendall, with a somewhat sardonic
-smile. “If you are passing the box you might post a letter for me.”
-
-Clem took the letter and said good-bye. He was about to drop it in the
-pillar-box when a curious doubt assailed him. Therefore, although to do
-so was entirely foreign to his nature, he broke the seal and scanned the
-contents.
-
-“Oh, no, Robert,” he observed to himself, “most emphatically not. We’ll
-give the boy a fair chance by your leave.”
-
-And accordingly he posted the letter, torn in many pieces, through the
-grating of a convenient sewer.
-
-
- III
-
-Wynne arrived at Wyckley in all the rush and turmoil of a new term. The
-boys had so many confidences to impart regarding their holiday exploits,
-that his presence was not observed until after tea. Consequently he had
-leisure to dispose his belongings and take a walk round the schoolrooms
-and playgrounds.
-
-What he saw was new and interesting. The high bookcases, crammed with
-scholastic literature, impressed him with the majesty of learning. The
-laboratory with its glass retorts and shelves of chemical compounds
-bespoke the infinite latitude of science. Least of all did he care for
-the studio, in which the drawing classes were held. The cubes, pyramids,
-cones and spheres did not appear to bear any relation to art as he saw
-it. His being craved for something more organic, and was not satisfied
-even by the bas-reliefs of ivy and hedge-roses. To him these were
-trivial matters of little concern which might well be omitted from an
-educational program. The main hall, with its platform and organ, its
-sombre lighting and heavily trussed roof, gave him far greater
-satisfaction. In such semi-dark surroundings he felt that an eager soul
-might well acquire illumination.
-
-The terraces outside were correct and ordinary, the yellow gravel and
-the deep green grass were too familiar to attract attention; accordingly
-he passed to the rear of the building and explored what lay beyond. Here
-he discovered many fives courts—some football grounds, complete with
-nasty little pavilions, and a swimming bath. Further investigation
-disclosed a fowl-run and some pigs grunting contentedly in a well-kept
-sty. Wynne found these far more to his liking, and was further
-interested to learn that a pig will devour a piece of brick, with
-apparent relish, provided it has been given to him by the hand of man.
-
-From this circumstance he was about to draw some interesting theories on
-life, and probably would have done so had it not been for the compelling
-note of a bell. This bell betokened the arrival of tea, some one had
-warned him of that; they had also warned him on no account to be late,
-so he made his way, hands in pockets, toward the big dining-room. A
-large number of eyes assessed him as he entered, and he bore their
-scrutiny without flinching. Oddly enough he was aware of an agreeable
-satisfaction arising from their attention, and returned stare for stare
-in excellent good part. Presently some one directed him to a place at
-the table where he found himself with other fresh arrivals.
-
-The inclination to converse is never very marked on the part of
-_nouveaux_, and for the major part the meal proceeded in silence. Then
-presently his left-hand neighbour, a little boy with a round face and
-sad blue eyes, said:
-
-“D’you like jam?”
-
-“I like it to eat,” said Wynne, “but it isn’t much good to talk about.”
-
-This was discouraging, as the small boy felt, but he continued bravely:
-
-“I don’t want to talk about it, but I want to talk to some one, and I
-thought that would be an easy way. I haven’t made a friend yet, and I
-thought if you’d like to be a friend I could give you some jam mother
-gave me to bring.”
-
-Before Wynne had time to reply to this sweet overture one of the older
-boys approached the table.
-
-“All you chaps will go to the gym, when tea is over,” he announced. “In
-fact you had better go now. Come on.” So saying he herded them down a
-long corridor to the far end of the building.
-
-“Wait in the dressing-room,” he said. “The Council hasn’t turned up yet.
-You’ll be called one by one, and you’d better be jolly careful how you
-answer.”
-
-The door was shut and they found themselves packed closely in a small
-room full of lockers. With a curious sense of impending evil they
-waited, and presently a name was called out, and the first sufferer went
-forth to face the dread ordeal of the Council Chamber.
-
-It was nervy work waiting, since none who went forth returned to bear
-witness to what was taking place. Hours seemed to pass before Wynne’s
-name was given by a boy with a low, threatening voice. He stepped
-bravely from his confinement, and, hands in pockets, walked into the
-centre of the gymnasium.
-
-Seated on a high horizontal bar, at the far end, sat the four members
-who composed the Council. Beneath them, gathered in rough formations,
-were other boys whose duty it was to carry out the Council’s awards.
-These were the executioneers, and each was skilled in his craft. Whether
-the decree went forth in favour of scragging, knee jarring, or
-wrist-twisting there was an expert to conduct it upon orthodox lines.
-The faces of the Council, though not remarkable, were stern and
-resolute, and bespoke a proper appreciation for the dignity of office.
-
-“Bring him forward,” said a very plain lad, who wore round pebble
-spectacles, and appeared to be leader of the movement.
-
-With no great courtesy Wynne was thrust forward to a chalk circle in the
-centre of the floor.
-
-“You mustn’t come out of the circle until you have permission,” was a
-further instruction received. The escort drew away and stood with folded
-arms as befitted a stern occasion.
-
-“What is your name?” said he of the spectacles.
-
-“Wynne Rendall.”
-
-“Wynne Rendall?”
-
-“Yes.”
-
-“Gentlemen, you heard! Can we permit the name of Wynne? Does it belong
-to the same category of nomenclature as Eric, Archibald and Desmond,
-which we have already black-listed?”
-
-There followed a murmur of assent.
-
-“I thought as much. By my troth, it is a sorry name, and makes the gorge
-rise in disgust and abhorrence.”
-
-The magnificence of this language created a profound impression in which
-even Wynne himself participated. He was not, however, prepared to allow
-the speaker to have it all his own way, since he felt, if it came to the
-turning of a phrase, he might show them some skill. Accordingly he said:
-
-“The name was in no wise my own choice, so I can take neither blame nor
-credit for it.”
-
-“Be silent or be scragged, Wynne Rendall.”
-
-“Well, what is your name, anyway?”
-
-The speaker turned his eyes heavenward as though seeking fresh tolerance
-from the high gods.
-
-“Know,” he said, “that by no means shall you ask us to betray our
-cognomens. We are the Council and known only by our might. If you are
-curious, Sir Paulus Pry, you shall ask some of these others how we are
-called—but at another time.”
-
-This Wynne conceived to be highly proper and in every sense an example
-of the splendid isolation of the Ruler. No sane individual would ask a
-king his name, but would address the question to a chamberlain.
-
-The only fly in the amber was the appearance of the Chief of Council,
-who went on to say:
-
-“For the name Wynne punishment of the second order shall be inflicted.
-Is it met?”
-
-“It is met,” droned the Council, with solemn intonation.
-
-“Let us proceed then. What manner of man is thy father, O Wynne Rendall?
-Speak us fair, and do not seek to hide his calling.”
-
-“I have not yet found out what manner of man he is,” replied Wynne,
-lightning quick to pick up the pedantry of his interrogator, “but it
-beseems me he is a fellow of heavy wit, who bears always a befrowning
-countenance. As to his calling he doth trade of import with our brothers
-of the Ind for the dried leaf of the tea plant.”
-
-This speech composed and delivered with ceremony created something of an
-uproar. Cries were raised that the penalty of the parallel bars should
-be summarily inflicted. In the midst of a chaos of many voices the Chief
-of Council held up his hand for silence.
-
-“Look here, young Rendall,” he said, “you’d better jolly chuck cheeking,
-or it will be the worse for you. You answer properly if you don’t want a
-putrid licking—which you’ll get anyway.”
-
-“Then go on,” said Wynne, who was enjoying himself immensely. It was a
-new and delightful experience being the centre of attraction, and he
-felt he had the situation well in hand.
-
-“Shall I proceed, gentlemen?”
-
-“Go forward,” crooned the Council.
-
-“Are you a gamesman or a swotter? Ponder well before replying, for much
-depends upon this.”
-
-“I am not a gamesman.”
-
-“Mark his utterance, O men. Thou art, then, a swotter.”
-
-“I didn’t say so. Don’t even know what a swotter is.”
-
-“Explain,” said the Chief. And one of the four, a freckled lad with red
-hair and a big healthy body, announced:
-
-“A swotter is the sort of ass who mugs at lessons and thinks more of
-books than footer.”
-
-“The Council will sing the Song of the Swotter,” said the Chief.
-
-So the Council sang—
-
- “The swotter is a rotter,
- And we always make it hotter
- For the swotter who’s a rotter—
- Yes, we do.”
-
-“Yes, we do,” was repeated by all present.
-
-When this impressive rendering was over, Wynne replied:
-
-“I think I am a swotter all right.”
-
-“Be it remembered,” said the Chief. “Little remains to be said. The C.
-I. D. will now report on this miscreant’s behaviour since arrival.”
-
-Whereupon a foxy little boy came forward from one of the groups, and
-after making a profound obeisance to the Council began:
-
-“He has worn his cap on the back of his head and put his hands in his
-trousers’ pocket. I have been to his bedder, and he wears a woollen
-nightshirt and combinations instead of pants and vest.”
-
-Wynne felt himself flush with hot anger and resentment, and heard an
-expression of disgust from all present.
-
-“Are these things true, O most wretched Wynne Rendall?”
-
-“Yes, they are, but how dared that beastly little swine touch my box?”
-
-“Be silent—scrag him—scrag the swotter,” came from all sides.
-
-“I don’t care—he’s a dirty little—”
-
-“Pin him,” ordered the Chief, with a gesture so commanding that he all
-but fell from his perch.
-
-Very adroitly two volunteers stepped forward and twisted Wynne’s wrists
-under his shoulder blades, while a third, with a skill which would have
-defied the ingenuity of the Davenport Brothers, made fast his hands with
-a knotted kerchief.
-
-The work accomplished they stood aside and refolded their arms.
-
-“Pass judgment,” they demanded.
-
-“Judgment shall be passed,” said the Chief. “You, Wynne Rendall, have
-been given fair and lawful trial, and are found guilty on several
-counts. First, you bear a name that is unpleasant to the tooth, and for
-this nose-pressure shall be inflicted.” (The presser of noses girt his
-loins for battle, and examined a row of shiny knuckles to see that all
-was in order.) “Second, your reply when asked of your father’s doings
-was too cheeky by a long chalk, and for this two circuits of the
-frog-march shall be administered.” (The frog-marcher-extraordinary made
-no movement, but he smiled as one who knew full well his own
-potentiality.) “Third, and methinks the gravest charge of all, it is
-established that thou art a swotter, and for this the ordeal of the
-parallel bars must and shall befall you.” Eight boys stepped forward,
-but the Chief shook his head. “Three a side will suffice,” he said.
-“That much mercy will I grant thee on account of your miserable size.
-The punishment for the nightshirt and the combinations will be the shame
-of wearing them, but I put it forward that they may help us in deciding
-a proper nickname for you. After the punishments have been inflicted you
-will step once more into the circle and declare you will not attempt to
-use your trousers’ pockets until the beginning of your second term. This
-you will swear most solemnly by the Goal-post and the Fives Ball. O men!
-has the word gone forth?”
-
-“It has.”
-
-“Do the punishments meet?”
-
-“They meet.”
-
-“Let them go forward.”
-
-Wynne had scarcely time to appreciate the anguish inflicted by the
-nose-twister before he found himself ignominiously drummed round the
-gymnasium at the knee of the frog-marcher. It was a jarring and painful
-means of progression, and almost he welcomed the narrow invitation of
-the parallel bars which loomed before him at the close of the second
-circuit.
-
-The variety offered, however, was far from consoling, and during the few
-moments’ pressure in that inhospitable spot he feared his last hour had
-come. He was made to form a buffer in the middle, while three boys on
-either side, bracing their legs against the upright supports, pushed
-toward the centre with their united strength. He could feel his ribs
-caving inward and the breath was forced from his lungs. Respite came not
-a moment too soon, and when they drew away he hung over the bar in an
-ecstasy of exhaustion and nausea.
-
-It was not until he heard the voice of the Chief announcing that he had
-borne the ordeal in honourable silence that he was aware he had forborne
-to scream.
-
-“Help him to the circle,” came from a far-off voice, but he shook aside
-the proffered assistance and tottered to the circle unaided.
-
-“Your bearing has been creditable,” said the Chief, “and that inclines
-us to leniency. Speak by the Goal-post and Fives Ball that the word may
-be fulfilled.”
-
-Then said Wynne, with a somewhat hysterical catch in his voice:
-
-“I swear by the Goal-post and the Fives Ball that to save myself the
-pain of offending you fools I’ll keep my hands out of my pockets for as
-long as you stupidly want.”
-
-And the world became singularly black, the sky full of crimson stars,
-and he sat down awkwardly upon the floor with his head between his
-knees.
-
-
- IV
-
-It would be far from the truth to state that Wynne Rendall was popular
-at school. On account of the readiness of his wit and an adroit, if
-somewhat embittered, knack of turning a phrase, he achieved a kind of
-notoriety.
-
-Mentally he was always more of a match for his physical superiors, as
-those who came up against him in differences of any kind were compelled
-to testify. There was a quality of courage about him that at once
-perplexed and irritated. The threat of a licking was of no avail in
-turning his point of view, and he would stand up courageously to a
-battery of blows which on some occasions, by pure vital energy, he would
-return with interest. But in the main his companions avoided offering
-him offence, since to do so was generally the occasion of their own
-downfall. He possessed a faculty, somewhat rare in the infant outfit, of
-being able to follow his opponent’s mental processes, and this, coupled
-with a ready power of expression, gave him an instant ascendancy.
-Intuitively he knew the very thing they were least likely to desire to
-hear, and although he was not of a naturally caustic bent, he would not
-hesitate to employ it if the situation demanded. Very early he made the
-discovery that loud-voiced, broad-shouldered fellows were by no means
-invulnerable, and indeed might very well prove cowards at heart.
-
-The type he found greatest difficulty in dealing with was the muscular
-and sheep-minded lad who from sheer natural stupidity was insensible to
-verbal attacks. This type was represented by a fairly large section,
-and, on account of their bulk, could not with impunity be ignored. They
-were a piratical band of burly buccaneers, who would undertake any dirty
-work if the premium offered were sufficiently tempting. They hired
-themselves out to smaller boys who desired the “licking” of some one
-they were unable to vanquish themselves, and for the service rendered
-would exact a very heavy toll in stationery or delicacies from the
-tuck-shop. Being impervious to conscience, they were only accessible by
-other means.
-
-Two days after his arrival Wynne had his first experience of the
-workings of this band.
-
-He was walking by the Fives Court with Cedric Allen, the small boy who
-had offered jam and friendship, when the foxy youth, who had borne
-witness to his possession of a nightshirt, hailed and bade them stop.
-Lipchitty, for so he was named, addressed them in tones of authority.
-
-“I’m going to speak to this kid, but you can stop, young Rendall. Now
-then, kiddie Allen, I want your Swedish knife.”
-
-Cedric quailed before these dread tidings. The knife was a most
-important affair, and boasted a handle of bird’s-eye maple of unequalled
-loveliness. It was reputed that this knife would kill a man, and its
-possession had excited an interest in Cedric that might well dissipate
-with its passing. Wherefore, in a trembling fashion, he replied:
-
-“My sister gave it to me.”
-
-Lipchitty was very properly disgusted.
-
-“The sort of soppy thing she would do,” he replied, and brought a flush
-of resentment to Cedric’s round little face. “’Tany rate, I’m going to
-have it.”
-
-“You aren’t. You shan’t.”
-
-“If you don’t give it to me there’ll be a jolly fine licking for you.”
-
-Cedric weighed his chances before replying.
-
-“You’re not much bigger than me; p’r’aps you’d get licked if you tried.”
-
-“Don’t mean to try,” responded the base Lipchitty; “I shall get Monkton
-major to do it for me, and he’ll half kill you.”
-
-Monkton major was no idle threat—a fellow of vast proportions with a
-gross and sullen countenance.
-
-In imagination Cedric saw his beloved possession float over the horizon,
-but he made one final effort.
-
-“Why should he lick me? I haven’t done anything.”
-
-“I shall give him some silkworms to do it,” announced Lipchitty.
-
-The system was exposed. Terrorism at a price. Wynne Rendall’s quick
-brain seized on the flaw, and was away with it in a second.
-
-“Right!” he interrupted, “then I’ll give him a fountain pen not to do
-it.”
-
-“You shut up,” warned Lipchitty, but there was alarm in his voice.
-
-“I shall.”
-
-“You’d better not. If you do I’ll give him a Brownie to lick you.”
-
-Wynne laughed. “Then,” he said, “I’ll give him five and six to lick
-you.”
-
-Lipchitty trembled, for the price was rising out of all expectation.
-Dared he bounce it another sixpence and overthrow his opponent? The risk
-was great, so he temporized with—
-
-“How much have you got? I warn you I’ve ten bob, so you’d better look
-out!”
-
-Ten bob! The game was in Wynne’s hands. With cruel leisure Wynne
-produced his adored letter-case and took out the five-pound note.
-
-“That’s done you,” he cried.
-
-The sight of so much wealth staggered Master Lipchitty, who with a
-mumbled unpleasantry started to move away. But the spirit of reprisals
-was upon Wynne, and he called on him to stop.
-
-“Look here, Lipchitty, I haven’t done with you. You started this
-business, and now you are going to finish it. It was you who made me out
-a fool before the Council by sneaking into my box. Very well, you’ve
-jolly well got to swop a pair of pyjamas for one of my nightshirts or
-I’ll give Monkton major ten and six to lick you silly.”
-
-That night Wynne slept very honourably in a coat and trousers of
-delicate striped taffeta, while Lipchitty mumbled in his sleep and
-dreamed lurid dreams of knife-thrusts in dark corridors, and enemies
-cast unsuspectingly into the yawning shaft of the _oubliette_.
-
-
- V
-
-The prediction that Wynne Rendall would prove a swotter was more than
-amply borne out by his conduct in the class-room.
-
-In most branches of education he displayed voracity for learning to an
-unusual extent. Latin and Greek delighted his soul, and his form-master,
-who was not a man of great erudition, was sorely put to it to keep pace
-with the extraordinary rapidity with which he acquired a knowledge of
-these dead tongues. His translations were admirable, and he seemed
-capable of reproducing the original spirit and lilt of the lines into
-English prose. Horace, Virgil, Homer were more than mere tasks to Wynne;
-they were delights which breathed of the splendid freedom in thought and
-action of the old periods which had passed away.
-
-To a very large degree he possessed appreciation for what Ruskin so
-happily terms “the aristocracy of words.” He realized how one word
-allied to another made for dignity or degradation, and he strove never
-to commit himself to an expression in writing that did not bear the
-stamp of honourable currency.
-
-From the school library he acquired his taste for the poets—one or
-another of which he carried with him on all his wanderings and greedily
-assimilated. Unlike most early readers he did not pin allegiance to any
-particular writer, but pored over all with equal concentration, carrying
-away the best from each in his remarkably retentive memory.
-
-But for his incurable stupidity in regard to mathematics, it is probable
-at the age of sixteen he would have been head of the school, but
-mathematics defeated him at every turn. He hated figures, and it was
-characteristic that he would never attempt to acquire a better liking
-for the things he hated. He ignored and passed them over, admitting
-neither the interest nor the logic that lay in the science of figures.
-
-“It is a great pity, Rendall, that you will not concentrate on these
-matters,” said the Head. “You display ready enough intelligence in other
-directions.”
-
-Wynne shook his head.
-
-“I am sorry, sir,” he said, “but I find no satisfaction in mathematics.”
-
-“You should feel the satisfaction of doing a thing right.”
-
-“The reward doesn’t tempt me, sir. Given that the answer to a most
-intricate problem proves to be .03885—what has been achieved beyond a
-row of figures? In after years none will look back and say, ‘He was the
-man who found this answer,’ for the reason that there is no charm or
-beauty in his findings. To the eye of the onlooker, sir, .04996 would be
-none the less pleasing.”
-
-“But it would be wrong,” urged the Head.
-
-“Nero was wrong in setting fire to Rome, yet people still speak of
-that.”
-
-“They speak in horror, Rendall.”
-
-“And a certain amount of admiration, sir. He was artist enough to play
-upon a harp while the roof beams crackled and fell.”
-
-“I am afraid your instance suggests a certain laxity of moral outlook,
-Rendall, which one can only deplore.”
-
-Wynne looked up at the ceiling and smiled.
-
-“He created a stir, sir—that is what I am getting at. Good may have
-resulted too. Possibly a deal of pestilence was scorched out of the city
-in that mighty fire.”
-
-The Head eyed him seriously.
-
-“Let me see, Rendall,” he said, “how old are you?”
-
-“Sixteen, sir.”
-
-“Sixteen. You are a precocious boy. You have revolutionary qualities
-that do not altogether please me. You are far too introspective, and
-introspection is a dangerous thing in unskilled hands. It is a pity you
-do not cultivate a greater taste for outdoor games.”
-
-“Thank you, sir, but I don’t want to shine in after life as a cup-tie
-footballer or a Rugby international.”
-
-“Possibly not, but healthy exercise promotes a healthy mind, my boy.”
-
-“I believe, sir, that is the general opinion.”
-
-“You venture to doubt it?”
-
-“Well, sir, I would not attach much value to a champion heavyweight’s
-views on a matter of æsthetics.”
-
-“Æsthetics are beside the point altogether. Too much æsthetics is quite
-as bad as—as—”
-
-“Too much football, sir?”
-
-“You are disposed to be impertinent, Rendall; I have no desire to
-staunch the flowings of your brain, but I would remind you that God
-equipped mankind with legs and arms, and it was clearly not the
-intention that we should allow them to stagnate from disuse. That is a
-piece of wisdom you would do well in taking to heart. A brain that is
-overworked will conduct its owner unworthily, therefore I should tonic
-yours with a little exercise.”
-
-Wynne had never held a very high opinion of the Head since the day he
-had been informed of the mysteries of perpetuating the species. On that
-occasion the Head had fallen very considerably in his esteem.
-
-He had floundered sorrowfully in his logic, had shown embarrassment, and
-made a muddle of what he had to say.
-
-For some reason the good man had confused the subject with the
-commandment, “Thou shalt not commit adultery,” and as his exposition was
-by no means clear on either count Wynne had been greatly perplexed. He
-was informed of certain consequences of sex and at the same time warned
-that indulgence was forbidden. When it was over he felt he had been told
-of something which by holy law was impossible of achievement. He left
-the study far more uncertain as to how the race was perpetuated than he
-had been on entering. Incidentally he felt rather sick, and in the
-privacy of his little den he had thrown his books about and stared at
-himself in the glass with a new and half-fledged understanding.
-
-He was, however, a singularly sexless boy, and the effect produced was
-of no very enduring character. Sex curiosity had no abiding place in his
-disposition, and he entirely failed to understand the impulse which
-compelled some of the older boys to bring opera glasses to bear on the
-windows of the servants’ quarters in the hope that some disrobing act
-might be espied and magnified. He would take no part in the whispered
-conversation that forms part of a nightly program in practically every
-school, and found no reason to reverence those scions of adventure who,
-with a wealth of imagination, drew pictures of their conquests over
-undefended citadels.
-
-For this reserve he was almost unanimously dubbed a prig, but with
-little enough justice. Wynne possessed no great distaste for wrong as
-being wrong; indeed, in many cases, wrong appealed to him more
-generously than the accepted view of right.
-
-It was the schoolboy form of especial backstairs carnalism that provoked
-in him the greatest distaste. There was, he thought, something sordid
-and paltry about an enterprise that could only be referred to in
-half-tones. If one sinned one should sin openly as Nero had done, and
-play upon a lyre while the smoke of one’s sinning columned to the sky.
-
-There is in the make-up of most growing boys a substratum of nastiness,
-and it may well prove to be an act of divine providence that this should
-be so. By the great Law of Contrast our judgments are made. They are
-made in contrast to the error of our earlier ways. From the lowest stage
-we step to higher planes and look back with timid disgust on thoughts
-and actions we have left behind. It is seldom enough, thank God, we
-consider our vulgar embryonic excesses in any other light than that of a
-degrading folly which, by the grace of better understanding, we have
-filtered from our systems. It is seldom enough that the most perverted
-boy carries out into the world the brand of his unmoral beginnings.
-There should be comfort in this for the parent whose son returns from
-school before the holidays begin.
-
-Wynne was coldly unmoved by the most lurid imaginings of sex. He would
-merely shrug his shoulder and go elsewhere. Yet mentally he was every
-kind of sensualist. The music of words stirred him illimitably—it would
-quicken his pulses and shorten his breath as no bold appeal from the
-eyes could have done. He could recognize love in the grand periods of
-the poets, and gasp with emotion at the splendour and passion it
-bespoke; but to associate love with the individual, or to consider
-himself in the light of a possible lover, never entered his mind.
-
-And so he passed over his period of first knowledge and learnt nothing
-from the lesson.
-
-
- VI
-
-Wynne Rendall returned home for the summer vacation in his seventeenth
-year. He was heavily laden with prizes and lightly poised with
-enthusiasm. In every department of learning, save only mathematics, had
-he borne himself with honourable success. It was not unnatural,
-therefore, he should have looked for some expression of rejoicing from
-his parents, but herein he was destined to be disappointed.
-
-His father had not returned from the City when he arrived, but he found
-his mother in the drawing-room. Her old allegiance to embroidering
-antimacassars had by no means abated with years, and as Wynne entered
-she was still mismating her coloured silks with the afore-time guarantee
-of hideousness. But even this circumstance would not staunch the
-enthusiasm Wynne felt in his own prowess. The desire to impart the news
-of his successes was perhaps the youngest trait in his character, so
-when the greeting was over he broke out:
-
-“I’ve done simply splendidly, mother. I’ve simply walked away with all
-the prizes, and the classic master says my Greek verses are the best the
-school has ever produced.”
-
-His eyes sparkled as though to say, “There, what do you think of that?”
-
-Had Mrs. Rendall known it she would have recognized that here was a
-moment to win a large measure of her son’s affection. Encouragement
-given at the right time is the surest road to the heart. But hers, alas!
-was not an analytic mind. All she contrived to say was:
-
-“Oh, yes. Well, that’s quite nice, isn’t it?”
-
-“Oh!” exclaimed Wynne. “You’re hopeless.” And that is a very dreadful
-thing for a boy to say to his mother—and a more dreadful thing for him
-to feel.
-
-Mrs. Rendall laid aside her work, and remarked, “I am sure I don’t know
-why you should say that.”
-
-“Well, it is so—so deplorable.”
-
-“What is?”
-
-“I don’t know. Doesn’t matter.”
-
-“I said nothing at all.”
-
-“That’s true—that’s just it.”
-
-“What did I say? I said it was quite nice.”
-
-“Yes. You did. But don’t let’s talk any more about it.”
-
-“And you replied that I was hopeless. You must have had some reason for
-saying that?”
-
-“No, none at all.”
-
-“It would have been different if I had said it wasn’t nice, but I said
-the right thing and you were rude.”
-
-Wynne did not reply, but he breathed despairfully.
-
-“It is a great pity to be rude, Wynne, and you should try to guard
-against it. You will never get on if your manners are not nice. Your
-Great-uncle Bryan” (he was a deceased relation on her side of the family
-who had made a nice little income as a chemist) “attributed his success
-entirely to the possession of an agreeable counter-manner.”
-
-“Preserve me from that,” cried Wynne, and fled from the room.
-
-When his father returned from the City the scene in many respects was
-re-enacted. Mr. Rendall senior ignored his son’s classical and literary
-successes, and focused his attention upon the absence of any achievement
-on mathematical lines.
-
-“Lot of use Socrates and all these other Latin chaps are if you can’t
-cast up a row of figures!”
-
-Wynne smiled.
-
-“I fancy that Socrates was a Greek,” he replied.
-
-“I’m not going to quibble about that. He could have been an Esquimaux
-for all the good he’ll do you in the City.”
-
-Wynne had been expecting this for some time, and he replied with a
-steady voice,
-
-“I shan’t take him to the City, father.”
-
-“Better not. Better forget all about him and fix your mind on things
-that matter. How did you do with book-keeping?”
-
-“I did nothing. I wish to make books, not to keep them.”
-
-“Don’t want any racecourse jargon here, please.”
-
-“You misunderstand me. I ought to have said write books.”
-
-“There are plenty of books without your writing them.”
-
-“What a good thing Shakespeare’s father didn’t think so!” mused Wynne.
-
-Mr. Rendall ignored the interruption.
-
-“I’m giving you one more term at school, so make the best use of it. You
-are not by any means a fool, and what your brother Wallace could do you
-should be able to do.”
-
-Wallace was already established in a clerkship whither he daily
-proceeded in a silk hat. Being drawn into the conversation he felt it
-incumbent upon himself to offer a contribution.
-
-“You will find in the City, Wynne, people are not inclined to put up
-with a lot of nonsense.”
-
-“I think it unlikely I shall find out anything of the kind,” replied
-Wynne.
-
-“I say you will,” retorted his brother.
-
-“And I repeat I think it is unlikely.”
-
-“Your brother Wallace knows what he’s talking about,” said Mr. Rendall.
-
-“That’s it!” exclaimed Wynne, jumping to his feet; “he knows what he is
-talking about, and that is all he ever can or ever will know.”
-
-“Will you sit down at table!” ordered Mr. Rendall. “I never saw such an
-exhibition.”
-
-“It is terrible,” lamented Mrs. Rendall.
-
-“You listen to what your elders have to say, and don’t talk so much
-yourself. Your brother Wallace is making thirty-five shillings a week.”
-
-“O most wonderful Wallace!” cried Wynne. “Villon starved in a gaol and
-wrote exquisite verses, but he could not earn so much as brother
-Wallace.”
-
-“Look here, young Wynne,” exclaimed his brother, “you had better shut up
-if you don’t want me to punch your head.”
-
-“‘Scots wha hae wi’ Wallace bled,’” chanted Wynne irrepressibly.
-
-“Father! Can’t you speak to him?”
-
-“Speak to him be damned!” said Mr. Rendall, for no particular reason.
-“He’s got to toe the line, that’s what it amounts to—toe the line.”
-
-“And when I’ve toed the line, what then?” demanded Wynne; but none
-seemed able to supply the answer, and the advice to “shut up about it”
-could hardly be regarded as illuminating.
-
-The argument concluded with the brief comment from his father:
-
-“I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
-
-
- VII
-
-The matter was not broached again until after breakfast on the following
-day, when Wynne and his father were left alone over the empty cups and
-dishes.
-
-“Discuss your future!” announced Mr. Rendall. He rose and placed a lump
-of sugar between the bars of the canary’s cage. The canary chirruped to
-signify gratitude for the gift.
-
-“Seems to me there is no advantage keeping you at school any longer. Bit
-of practical experience in life will lick you into shape quicker than
-anything else.”
-
-“One minute,” said Wynne, “I believe I could get a University
-scholarship if you gave me another term.”
-
-“Scholarship be damned! I never went to a University; no reason why you
-should go. Not going anyway—”
-
-“Yes, but—”
-
-“Quiet. D’y’hear! There can be altogether too much of a good thing—too
-much altogether. I have my own plans for you.”
-
-“And so have I,” said Wynne.
-
-“Then you’ll make them fit in with mine—got that?”
-
-Wynne’s foot began to tap on the ground and his mouth straightened
-thinly.
-
-“Go on.”
-
-“I’ll go on in my own damned time. A little hard discipline is what you
-want and it’s what you’ll get.”
-
-“Well?”
-
-“I spoke to Kessles on the ’phone last night about putting you there.”
-
-“Kessles?”
-
-“The warehouse people—don’t you know that?”
-
-“No.”
-
-“What do you know? Nothing.”
-
-“A bit hard on Mr. Kessles then.”
-
-“Quiet. He’s prepared to give you an opening, and I’ve accepted it.”
-
-“That’s just as well, because I certainly shouldn’t have done so.”
-
-“I’m not putting up with any argument. You can have a couple of weeks
-holiday, then go up to the City like any one else.”
-
-Wynne shook his head resolutely.
-
-“There is no question about the matter, my boy, it is a case of ‘having
-to.’ High time you began to make a way in the world.”
-
-“Yes,” said Wynne. “I’ll make a way in the world—I want to and I
-shall—but it will be _my_ way, not yours.”
-
-“What do you mean by that?”
-
-“I mean that I am not going to the City—I absolutely
-refuse—absolutely.”
-
-“Continue like that and I won’t be answerable for my actions,” cried Mr.
-Rendall.
-
-“And you shan’t be for mine.”
-
-The determination in Wynne’s tone was extraordinary considering his age
-and fragility. Without raising his voice he dominated his father by
-every means of expression. Mr. Rendall felt this to be so, and the shame
-of it scarleted his features.
-
-“Since you were born,” he shouted, “you have been perverse and
-maddening—ever since the day you were born!”
-
-“Never once since the day I was born have you tried to see how my mind
-worked,” came the retort. “You have done no more than force your mental
-workings on me. All I know or shall know will be in spite of you.”
-
-“Have you no proper feelings?”
-
-“No, not as you read the word. Proper feelings are free feelings, new
-thoughts and fresh touches of all that is wonderful and unexplored. You
-think in a circle—an inner circle that constricts everything worth
-while like the coils of a snake. And now I’ve had enough of it—enough
-of you—more than enough.”
-
-“Enough!”
-
-“Yes, I’m going—I’m going to clear out and find some atmosphere where I
-can breathe.”
-
-“D’you dare to suggest running away?”
-
-“Yes, I’m clearing out.”
-
-Some half-formed thought drove Mr. Rendall to seize the handle and put
-his back against the door.
-
-“That won’t stop me,” said Wynne. “It isn’t a race for the front door,
-which I lose if you’re quick enough to stop me.”
-
-“Very well,” conceded Mr. Rendall. “Very well—and how the devil do you
-think you’d live! Hey?”
-
-“I shall manage.”
-
-“Manage be damned! Not a penny shall you have from me—not a
-farthing—not a bean.”
-
-“Then take back what I have already.”
-
-Wynne’s hands dived into his trousers’ pockets and pulled out the
-linings. Two or three florins and a few odd pence tumbled to the floor
-and circled in all directions.
-
-Something in the action deprived Mr. Rendall of the last of his
-self-control. Seizing the silver entrée dish he sent it hurtling through
-the lower pane of the dining-room window. It was the first time his
-temper had risen to such heights.
-
-“Let in the air,” cried Wynne, with a note of hysteria, and picking up
-the pair of candlesticks from the mantelshelf he flung first one then
-the other through the remaining panes.
-
-The south-west wind bellied the Nottingham lace curtains and stirred the
-feathers in the canary’s back.
-
-“Twirrup,” he chirped, and hopping to the upper perch broke into a fine
-song of the palms that bow so statelily in the islands of the south.
-
-“Get out!” said Mr. Rendall. “I’ve done with you—get out!”
-
-
- VIII
-
-Wynne packed a suit case in his own time. He was not fastidious in the
-matter of clothes, and books were the chief things he took. Oddly enough
-he had no fear in facing the world alone. Possibly through inexperience
-the problem presented no alarming features. He did not imagine he was
-stepping out to meet an immediate fortune—education and added years had
-taught him that his singing days were still far ahead. He was
-confidently sure he would arrive eventually, but in the meantime the
-world lay before him—a mighty class-room through which he must pass
-before setting foot upon the Purple Patch. Bearing the bag in his hand
-he descended the stairs.
-
-In the hall he hesitated. Should he or should he not seek his mother and
-risk the possibility of a further scene. The problem was solved by her
-sudden appearance at the door of the drawing-room. In some respects her
-face had lost its wonted stolidity. She seemed as one perplexed by vague
-understandings. Cain might have looked so when he saw death for the
-first time in the fall of his brother, and wondered stupidly what manner
-of thing it might be.
-
-“So you are going away, Wynne,” she said.
-
-“Yes, mother.”
-
-“I see.” But she did not see very clearly, as her next remark betokened.
-“Have you packed your clean things?”
-
-For some human reason Wynne had no inclination to smile at this. It
-struck him as being somewhat pathetic.
-
-“I think so,” he replied.
-
-“That’s right. Did you ask cook to cut you some sandwiches?”
-
-“No, mother. I—I don’t think you quite understand. I’m not going away
-just for the day—I’m going for good.”
-
-“For good!” repeated Mrs. Rendall, in an expressionless voice. “Really?
-Yes, well that does seem a pity. Your father had a nice opening for you
-with Mr. Kessles.”
-
-“I don’t think I should have flourished in an office, mother. I want to
-do and do and do.”
-
-“You might have gone to the office in the day-time and done a little
-writing in the evening. I am sure your father wouldn’t have objected to
-that.”
-
-Wynne shook his head. “Wouldn’t work,” he said.
-
-“Oh, I don’t know. Your brother Wallace finds time for chip-carving
-after city hours. He made me such a nice blotter last month—very pretty
-it was.”
-
-“’Tisn’t quite the same, is it?”
-
-“Well, I don’t know, one hobby is very like another.”
-
-“I’m sorry,” said Wynne, “but I’ll have to go.”
-
-“Where will you go to?”
-
-“No idea.”
-
-“How very extraordinary! But you might turn up anywhere?”
-
-“Yes.” He fidgeted. It was hard to find anything to say. “I’d better be
-off.”
-
-“Have you any money?”
-
-“No. But I want none of father’s—I’ll take none of that.”
-
-“You would take some of mine?”
-
-“Why should I?”
-
-“Because you can’t go away to nowhere without any money. Wait a minute.”
-
-He demurred, but she took no notice, and went upstairs to her room. When
-she returned she gave him two ten-pound notes.
-
-“I should have given you these on your eighteenth birthday, Wynne, so
-you may as well have them now. I did the same for Wallace when he was
-eighteen.”
-
-It was the old symmetry coming out again—a clock in the middle, and a
-candlestick on either side.
-
-“Thanks awfully much,” said Wynne.
-
-“It is part of what I inherited from your Great-uncle Bryan.”
-
-Uncle Clem had spoken the truth when he said, “Others will build the
-pulpit from which you hope to preach.” Wynne was going out to face the
-world on the reflected gilt of an agreeable counter-manner!
-
-“Good-bye, mother.”
-
-“Good-bye, Wynne.”
-
-It was surprising when he kissed her she should have said,
-
-“I think I am going to cry.”
-
-He answered quickly,
-
-“I shouldn’t—really I shouldn’t.”
-
-Crying is so infectious.
-
-“Perhaps I needn’t—but I could—I—I’m not sure I shan’t have to.”
-
-“It’s quite all right,” said Wynne. He kissed her again and hurried down
-the steps.
-
-The wind blowing through the broken window slammed the front door
-noisily. It occurred to Mrs. Rendall that the curtains might knock over
-the palm pedestal. Following the direction of her thoughts she moved to
-the dining-room to take steps. Her husband had said Wynne would
-return—“would crawl back on hands and knees”—and suppose he did not
-return? Well, then he wouldn’t.
-
-Hers was the kind of concentration that attaches more importance to
-airing a person’s sheets than to the person himself. Crying was of
-little service, and the impulse had lessened with the peril of the palm
-pedestal to be considered.
-
-
- IX
-
-Many courageous people are nervous to a fault in certain directions.
-
-Wynne Rendall possessed the pluck of the devil where his point of view
-or ideals were at stake, but in the performance of simple everyday
-affairs he was afflicted with a great shyness.
-
-He hovered fearfully before the portals of several small hotels in the
-Strand district before summoning up courage to enter and take a room. It
-seemed to him the proprietors of these places would refuse and ridicule
-him—that they would tax him with his youth, and query if he had ever
-used a razor. Yet men great and small, of important or insignificant
-appearance, passed in and out of the swinging doors with the smallest
-concern imaginable. They dropped their baggage in the hall, and
-conversed with the clerks about rooms as he might have helped himself to
-salt at the table.
-
-In all his life Wynne had never stopped at an hotel, and had no
-experience from which to adjust his actions. He realized, however, that
-to delay the ordeal indefinitely would serve no useful purpose. An hotel
-attracted his attention on the opposite side of the road, and squaring
-his shoulders he boldly approached it. His shame was boundless when he
-walked deliberately past the open doors and down once more to the
-Strand.
-
-“That’s the most cowardly thing I have ever done,” he rated himself.
-
-In Villers Street he espied an eating-house with an uncooked sirloin,
-embellished with parsley and tomatoes, standing on a silver salver in
-the window. He halted and read the various legends pasted to the inner
-surface of the plate glass. “A good dinner for 1s. 6d.” “Steaks and
-onions.” “Stewed tripe.” “Bed and breakfast, 3s.” Without waiting for
-his courage to ebb he walked inside. A dirty Swiss waiter pulled a chair
-from a small table and flicked the seat invitingly with a napkin.
-
-“I want—that is, would you be good enough to let me a room. I was
-recommended to come here—at least I think—”
-
-“A room—sartainly—one minute,” he called a name through an open door,
-and a stout lady entered. “A room for zis gentleman. You will go wiz
-her.”
-
-As he mounted the stairs Wynne reflected that there was nothing in it
-after all. It was the simplest matter. He wished he had omitted the
-legend about having been recommended to the place; clearly there was no
-occasion for anything beyond a simple expression of one’s needs. He had
-not thought to learn anything from a Swiss waiter in a Villers Street
-hotel, yet a new department of learning had been opened for him from
-which he might profit in the future.
-
-The room to which he was shown was very ordinary, and made little
-impression upon him. He threw his bag to the bed and seated himself
-easily beside it.
-
-The landlady lingered by the door, and he ventured a remark to her:
-
-“I suppose you let quite a number of rooms?”
-
-“It would be,” she answered, “a bad thing for us if we didn’t.”
-
-As there appeared to be nothing further to contribute to that line of
-inquiry, he nodded and remained silent.
-
-“You’ll want a bit of dinner, I suppose.”
-
-“Oh, yes, thank you—thanks.”
-
-“If you was to order it now it would be ready when you come down.”
-
-“All right,” he said. Then, as she still lingered: “I think I’ll wash my
-hands if you don’t mind.”
-
-“What’ll you have to eat?”
-
-Of course! It was so obvious—he ought to have thought of that. What
-could he have? It would betray inexperience to ask what there was—a man
-of the world would know in an instant what his appetite desired. Wynne
-had often pictured himself ordering a dinner, but now the time had come
-he felt strangely unable to do so. His memory served him with a picture
-of the uncooked sirloin and the tomatoes, but it was unlikely they would
-oven this on his behalf.
-
-The need to answer being imperative, he ordered “A chop, please, and
-some potatoes.” After the departure of the landlady he cursed his woeful
-lack of imagination. He had dreamed to feast, as the old emperors, upon
-ortolans and the brains of peacocks, and instead he had ordered the very
-dish which, in the ordinary rotation of the home-menu, would have
-appeared on his father’s table that night.
-
-Before going downstairs Wynne decided very firmly what he would say when
-asked as to his choice of drink. He would order shandy-gaff, and he
-would name it familiarly as “shandy.”
-
-This resolve completed, he opened his suit case and set out his
-belongings in careless disorder. Beyond doubt it was very fine to be a
-free-lance and possess a room of one’s own in the heart of London. He
-took a pace or two up and down the floor and filled his lungs with air.
-The rumble of traffic and the long-sustained London note, made up of
-thousands of fine particles of sound, drifted to his ears.
-
-“Something like!” said Wynne. “This is something like!”
-
-He put his head out of the window and spoke again:
-
-“You silly old crowds, all hurrying along. You don’t know me—but one
-day you shall. Yes, I shall find out all your secrets, and you will come
-to me to disclose them. Oh! you silly, busy, hurrying old crowds, I’m
-getting ready for you. Why don’t you look up and see me? Don’t you want
-to? There’s no charge yet. Look while you have the chance, for later on
-I shall tip up your chins and hold your eyes whether you want me to or
-not.”
-
-But none was disposed to glance his way. The day’s work was done, and
-London emptying itself homeward. There were dinners, warm fires, and
-welcomes awaiting them, why should they waste a glance upon the white
-face of an anæmic boy who hung out over the sill of a three-shilling
-bedroom and blathered his foolish thoughts to the night.
-
-Wynne ordered “shandy” with an air of some importance: by sheer bad luck
-the Swiss waiter’s vocabulary was deficient of this word. He asked Wynne
-to repeat it, and, still failing to understand, further asked how the
-beverage was concocted. This threw Wynne into a blushing difficulty,
-since he himself was doubtful as to the ingredients used. Accordingly he
-revoked the order and asked for some ale, and since he stated no
-particular quantity he was saddled with a bottle of the largest size,
-which greatly taxed his powers of consumption. He struggled bravely,
-however, and the good malt fluid gave tone to his being and warmed his
-imagination.
-
-He rose from the table with the pleasant confidence that he had left
-much of his awkwardness behind. He had thought to spend the evening
-considering his future, but in his rosy mood he decided a theatre would
-prove a more agreeable form of entertainment.
-
-Hitherto his playgoing had been confined to a yearly visit to the local
-pantomime, a performance which had made no special appeal to him. As
-master of his own choice he repaired to Shakespeare’s Henry VIII., and
-was vastly impressed by the splendour of it all. Here and there he found
-himself at variance with the actors’ renderings of certain passages, and
-during the intervals ruminated upon alternative readings. On the whole,
-however, the experience was delightful.
-
-At the conclusion he emerged from the theatre in a state of artistic
-intoxication. He longed for a companion to whom he could express the
-views which the play had set in motion—any one would do so long as he
-might speak his thoughts aloud. With all these jostling crowds it was
-absurd that any one should be denied an audience. Surely some one would
-be glad to lend an ear. There must be some companionable soul in this
-great city with a thirst for knowledge and enlightenment.
-
-“The clouds that gather round the setting sun.” Wolsey had been wrong to
-betray so much emotion in delivering that speech. A man like Wolsey
-would see grim humour in his own downfall. It was contrary to the
-character, as he saw it, to stress the emotions of such a coming to
-pass. Wynne knew the speech intimately, and felt a great desire to
-repeat it aloud in the way it should be repeated. The Haymarket was
-hardly a place for such a recital, so he turned into Orange Street and
-the narrow thoroughfares adjoining. Here in a shadow he began the lines,
-but had hardly uttered a sound before a step caused him to stop. Looking
-round he saw a girl walking slowly toward him. A fur swung from her
-shoulders and a bag dangled in her hand. The white of her boots seemed
-phosphorescent in the half-light. As she came abreast of him their eyes
-met. Hers were bold and black-lashed, and the lids drooped in lazy
-insolence.
-
-“Kiddie,” she said, “coming home?”
-
-And Wynne was startled into replying:
-
-“Why, do you want a friend too?”
-
-She curled her scarlet lips into a smile.
-
-“I always want a friend,” she answered.
-
-“I don’t,” he said; “only sometimes! Sometimes one feels one must
-confide. I feel like that tonight.”
-
-“Confide in me, then. What’s to stop you?”
-
-“I think I will. You’re frank—unconventional; some one like you I’ve
-been looking for. I couldn’t sleep tonight—couldn’t go to bed.”
-
-The smile came again—went—and was replaced by an expression of
-perplexity. It was not the conversational formula to which she was
-accustomed.
-
-“Well, don’t let’s hang about, anyway,” she said. “There’s sure to be a
-cab in Waterloo Place. Come on.”
-
-“D’you live far from here, then? It would be jollier to walk, don’t you
-think?”
-
-She had heard that phrase before, on the lips of economists, and the
-business side of her nature sprang to action.
-
-“If you’ve no money—better say so.”
-
-“I’ve plenty of money.”
-
-“What do you call plenty?”
-
-“Don’t let’s talk money. People never speak of anything else.”
-
-“I’m beginning to think you know a thing or two.”
-
-“Perhaps I do.” The suggestion flattered him.
-
-“So do I, and I’d like to know what I’m standing for, too. I’m too fly
-to bounce, kiddie. Get me?”
-
-“No,” he replied. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about.” He
-hated confessing this, but it was no less than the truth.
-
-“Of—course—not,” she drawled the syllables, and leaned against his
-shoulder with fingers that travelled caressingly over his wrist and
-palm.
-
-“O God!” exclaimed Wynne. “I see.” A kind of fear possessed him and he
-backed a pace.
-
-“What’s the matter now?”
-
-“Only—only that I’m a fool. I must be. You’re Adventure, aren’t you?
-Commercial Adventure?”
-
-“Now then! Who are you calling names?”
-
-“I must be a fool.”
-
-This concerned him most, and provided him with courage.
-
-“All boys are fools—men too, for that matter. Come along if you’re
-coming.”
-
-“But I’m not,” said Wynne.
-
-“Why not?”
-
-“I made a mistake.”
-
-“A mistake, eh? You’re a cheeky little devil. Who are you to speak to a
-girl? I should like to ask?”
-
-“I didn’t recognize you, that’s all. I’ve never met you before. Another
-time I shall know. Good-night.”
-
-He turned quickly and walked away.
-
-“Silly little kid!” murmured the girl, and fell into her roving pace
-once more.
-
-“I wish I had told her how rotten I thought she was,” mused Wynne, as he
-pulled off his boots before getting to bed. “I might have gone home with
-her!” He tried to picture such a happening, but it brought nothing to
-his imagination. There was not the slightest tremble of passion to weigh
-against his satisfaction at having avoided the offered temptation.
-
-“Fools men must be to yield to that sort. I never should. I think I got
-out of it all right after the first mistake. Original sin!” He fell to
-quoting Swinburne, a poet who had pleased his ear alone.
-
- “What sterile growth of sexless root or Epicene,
- What flower of kisses without fruit of love, Faustine.”
-
-“She was very pretty—pretty figure—and her hands and feet were small.
-Yes, all the temptation was there, and I didn’t yield. Glad I met her.
-It’s helped me to know myself. I’m all right.”
-
-As he drew the blanket under his chin Wynne felt unduly
-self-satisfied—he forgot, perhaps, that it is easy to resist when there
-is no impulse to sin.
-
-
- X
-
-At the National Gallery on the following morning Wynne fell into
-conversation with an old man. The old man wore an Inverness cape and a
-wide-brimmed felt hat, he had shaggy eyebrows, a wispy moustache, and
-his cheeks were seamed and furrowed with wrinkles. He muttered to
-himself and seemed in a fine rage. Sometimes he rattled his umbrella and
-scowled at the passers-by, and sometimes he tossed his head and laughed
-shortly. Scarcely a soul came nigh him that he did not scrutinize
-closely and disapprovingly. Before him was Leonardo’s “Virgin of the
-Rocks,” and by his mutterings and rattles he kept the space before the
-picture clear of other humanity, as a sheep-dog rings his flock.
-
-As Wynne approached he came under the influence of the old gentleman’s
-inflamed stare, which, being in no wise alarmed, he returned with
-interest.
-
-“Keep your eyes for the pictures,” rapped out this peculiar individual.
-
-“So I would,” returned Wynne, “if it were not that you disturbed them.”
-
-“Ha! You’re like all the rest. You’d run from your own bridal altar to
-see a cab-horse jump the area railings. I know the breed—I know ’em.”
-
-“Concentration is easily dislocated,” said Wynne, choosing his words
-carefully, “attention is dependent upon circumstance and atmosphere.”
-
-“Good, enough, O most wise Telemachus,” came the answer, with a mixture
-of agreement and cynicism, “the very reason for _my_ invitation. How the
-devil shall a man keep his mind on this” (he nodded at the picture)
-“while this herd is using the Gallery as a shelter from the rain?”
-
-Wynne laughed. An attack on the people always gave him pleasure.
-
-“That’s a fair statement of the case. The sun’ll be out in a minute,” he
-cocked his eye to the sky-light. “Then we shall have the place to
-ourselves. Mark my words.”
-
-“They’ve no artistic appreciation,” said Wynne, feeling on safe ground.
-“A very bovine race, the English.”
-
-“Tommy rot!” said the old gentleman, unexpectedly; “don’t talk
-drivelling nonsense. Best race in the world, the English, but they won’t
-let ’emselves go.”
-
-“Well, doesn’t that amount to—”
-
-“No, it don’t. You can’t judge the speed of a racehorse while he is
-munching oats in a stable.”
-
-“No, sir; but presumably the people should come here to appreciate. They
-can do their munching at home.”
-
-“Rubbish! English folk are too shy to express appreciation. That’s the
-trouble with ’em—shyness. National code! They keep away from all
-matters likely to excite ’em artistically for fear of being startled
-into expressing their true feelings. Englishmen’s idea of bad form,
-expression! Damn fine people! Bovine? Not a bit of it!”
-
-Seemingly, to be consistent was not a characteristic of the old
-gentleman, a circumstance which rendered argument difficult. Wynne fell
-back on:
-
-“After all, it was you who attacked them first.”
-
-“Know I did. Good reason too. A lot of clattering feet thumping past my
-Leonardo! Scattering my thoughts. ’Taint right—’taint reverent. If I’d
-my way I’d allow no one to enter here who hadn’t graduated to a degree
-in the arts—or respect for the arts. ’Tisn’t decent for people to use
-as a waiting-room a gallery holding some of the world’s greatest
-achievements on canvas. It’s degrading and disgraceful. Why aren’t we
-taught to respect art from infancy, hey? And pay it proper compliments,
-too. We have to take our hats off in a twopenny tin chapel, and are
-thought blackguards and infidels if we keep ’em on, but do we ever touch
-a forelock to a masterpiece in paint, and does any one think any the
-worse of us however idiotically we behave before it? No! Then I say that
-we are no better than hooligans and savages, and have no right of
-contact with the glorious emblems of what a man’s hand and a man’s head
-can achieve.”
-
-This speech he delivered with enthusiasm and a profusion of gesture.
-Wynne was properly impressed, and hoped the old gentleman would proceed,
-which he readily did.
-
-“Good Gad a’mighty!” he ejaculated, pointing a claw-like forefinger at
-Leonardo’s Virgin. “Whenever I doubt the Scriptures I look at her and
-the doubt passes. Da Vinci _saw_ her. _Saw_ her, and he painted what he
-saw—the flesh and the spirit. See the eyelids, they tremble—don’t
-they? They are never at rest. That’s the woman essence—the mother
-essence—eyes trembling over the soul of her child. And the hands! Don’t
-you feel at any second they may move? One might come tomorrow and find
-them any-other-where. Motion—touch—a quickening sense of protection.
-Use the place as a shelter against the rain! Damnable! There’s just the
-same amazing mobility in the expression of La Jaconde—at the Louvre,
-but with this difference. The Virgin”—he pointed again at the
-picture—“and Monna Lisa, the woman who saw the world through eyes of
-understanding which curled her lips to humour. A courtesan some folks
-say she was—not unlikely—inevitable almost! Takes a courtesan to
-contrive a measured expression like that. Lord! if a good woman could
-understand as a courtesan _must_ understand, what a superwoman she would
-be! Intellect springs from knowledge of the flesh, and is sunk in it
-too—more often the latter. The revelation of one sex to another is the
-well-head of all learning. Passion of the soul is the reaction of bodily
-passion—must be—_is_. What is it Pater says about Monna
-Lisa?—‘Represents what, in a thousand years, man had come to desire.’
-True too! Even a fool would admit that. There’s a fleeting look in the
-eyes and the mouth that adjusts itself to every line of thought—gives
-an answer to every question—a compassion for every sin—an impetus to
-all betterment. Been to the Louvre? Know the picture?”
-
-“No,” said Wynne, rather ruefully.
-
-“Good Gad a’mighty! then you’ve plenty to learn, and the sooner you
-start the better. What are you—art student or what?”
-
-“I am going to be a writer.”
-
-“How old?”
-
-“Seventeen and a bit.”
-
-“Then learn to paint first. There are no schools for writers, and
-painting’ll teach you more than all the libraries in the world. Teach
-you values—that’s the hinge of all learning in art—values! Relative
-values. The worth of this as compared with that. Teach you line—the
-infinite variety of line—the tremendous responsibility of line—the
-humour—the severity of line. Teach you nature—the goddess from whom
-all beauty is drawn, and whose lightest touch has more mystery in it
-than all the creations of man. That’s what you want to do. No good
-trying to write till you’re nearing thirty—abouts. Learn on canvas how
-to ink your paper thoughts. Pack your bag and go to Paris.”
-
-“I believe I will,” exclaimed Wynne. “Where—where should I go when I
-get there?”
-
-“Anywhere—Julian—Calarossi. The Quartier is full of ’em. Make for the
-Boule Miche, and stop the first boy with a beard. He’ll tell you where
-to go.”
-
-
-
-
- PART THREE
- PARIS
-
-
- I
-
-At nine o’clock next evening a slightly confused Wynne Rendall was
-seeking a cab midst the din and clatter of the Gare St. Lazare. He had
-escaped the escort of several insidious gentlemen who offered their
-services as “Guides,” and spoke suggestively of Corybantine revels they
-were prepared to exhibit. Wynne had been warned by an amiable Customs
-official to have nothing to do with “zes blerdy scoundrills,” so he was
-able to reply to their English solicitations, “Pas ce soir, merci,” and
-move on in the press of crowds.
-
-He succeeded in attracting the attention of a very aged cab-driver, who
-controlled two white steeds, of even greater age, with a pair of scarlet
-reins. Him he addressed in his best school French:
-
-“Je desire trouver un hotel très petit et pas trop cher,” he said.
-
-The driver seemed at some difficulty to understand, but when finally he
-succeeded in doing so he bade Wynne climb inside, and, gathering up his
-reins, shouted a frenzied command to the horses. Seemingly these beasts
-were unaffected by his cries, for they moved away in the stateliest
-fashion; whereupon the driver rose to his feet and laid about him with a
-whip like any Roman charioteer. This produced the desired result, and
-the vehicle, swaying perilously, thundered over the cobbles of the
-station yard and out into the night.
-
-“This is magnificent,” said Wynne. “Oh, gorgeous!”
-
-His eyes feasted on the broad boulevards—the _cafés_, with their little
-tables set upon the pavement beneath the gay striped awning—the
-unfamiliar cosmopolitan crowds who jostled along or sat sipping their
-syros and bocks at pleasant ease. Also it was very wonderful to be
-driving on the wrong side of the road and apparently ignoring all
-traffic laws. Once a gendarme with a long, clattering sword held up his
-hand to bid them stop, but him the driver ignored, beyond a sharp rattle
-of criticism as they brushed by.
-
-At the corner of the Rue St. Honoré a _fiacre_ in front knocked a man
-off his bicycle, and proceeded as though nothing had happened. The
-unfortunate cyclist picked himself up and started in pursuit, leaving
-his bicycle lying in the highway. A motor bus, considering such an
-obstacle unworthy of changing its course to avoid, ran over it, crushing
-the frame and rims, and Wynne’s cab, following behind, did likewise.
-
-Nobody seemed to care. Passers-by scarcely wasted a glance over the
-affair. A desire to cheer possessed Wynne. It seemed he had arrived at
-the City of Harlequinade, where the wildest follies were counted to be
-wise.
-
-Further down the road a fight was in progress. No blows were exchanged,
-but the disputants grabbed and clawed at each other’s clothing. They
-ripped out neckties and tore the buttons from waistcoats. They stamped
-upon and kicked each other’s hats—pockets were wrenched from coats, and
-shirt-tails sprang unexpectedly to view.
-
-Wynne could not help thinking how funny it would be if Wallace were to
-appear in Wimbledon High Street with a battered silk hat and his
-shirt-tail flapping over his breeches. There was humour in this fight
-which seemed to justify it—not blood and staggering figures, such as
-one saw outside the publichouses at home on a Saturday night.
-
-Wynne blessed the old gentleman of the National Gallery who had inspired
-him to come to Paris.
-
-They passed a great _magasin_ with blazed arch lights, and turned up a
-tiny street to the left. Wynne caught a glimpse of its name as the cab
-turned the corner. “Rue Croix des Petits Champs.” Then the vehicle
-stopped abruptly—so abruptly that the nearside horse fell to his knees
-and nearly dragged the driver from the box, who marked his disapproval
-by liberal use of the whip. Order being restored, he pointed to a big
-arched doorway and cried:
-
-“Voilà! Voilà!”
-
-So Wynne alighted and demanded:
-
-“Comme bien?”
-
-“Cinq francs quatre-vingt-cinq.”
-
-Wynne was unaccustomed to French money, and the centimes conveyed
-nothing to him. He proffered four francs and was amazed at the flow of
-incomprehensible invective which followed. It was impossible to argue at
-anything approaching that speed, so he held up his palm with some silver
-in it and said:
-
-“Alors prenez ce que vous voulez.”
-
-The driver accordingly appropriated eight francs, and with a cry of
-“’Voir et merci,” whipped up his horses and vanished into the night.
-
-Wynne subsequently learned that the fare should have been about one
-shilling and threepence.
-
-He entered the arched gates and found himself in a small courtyard with
-a lighted door at the further end. Above this was written, “Hotel du
-Monde et Madagascar.”
-
-The idea of referring to Madagascar as though it were a satellite of the
-world pleased his sense of humour and warmed his heart toward the new
-abode.
-
-The foyer at the hotel was quite small, and there was a little office,
-on the immediate right of the entrance, in which sat a sweet-looking old
-lady dressed in black, and wearing a beautifully laundered cap.
-
-Wynne gave her good evening, stated that he wanted a room, “très bon
-marché,” and told her his name.
-
-“Et moi je suis Rosalie,” returned the little concierge, with the
-sweetest smile imaginable.
-
-Certainly he could have a room—it was on the fifth floor, and cost but
-twenty francs a month. That he would like it she was sure, since it was
-“clair, propre et tout ce qu’il faut.” She would ring for Benoit, who
-was “un garçon bien gentil,” although suffering from “mal é la
-poitrine,” which would carry him off all too soon. “Qui, c’est triste!”
-
-Benoit’s appearance, when eventually he arrived, did not give rise to
-any immediate anxiety regarding his health. He was a big and cheerful
-man, beside whom Wynne felt painfully insignificant. Taking possession
-of the bag, Benoit led the way up many flights of stairs, until at last
-they arrived at the fifth floor. Here he threw open a door and said:
-
-“Voilà! N’est-ce pas?”
-
-Wynne’s reply, “C’est de luxe,” amused Benoit greatly, who sat on the
-bed to enjoy a hearty laugh.
-
-While the bag was being unpacked, Benoit supplied information regarding
-Parisian life. Thus Wynne learnt that the average boarder in small
-French hotels went out for his meals and his bath. By this means either
-one or the other could be taken at the convenience of the individual,
-who was therefore in no way constrained to be at a certain place at any
-specified hour. Wynne inquired how far it was to the Quartier Latin, and
-was greatly delighted to learn that ten minutes’ walk would land him
-there.
-
-Many students from the ateliers lodged at the hotel, he discovered, some
-of whom were “bien gentil,” and others “méchant.”
-
-“Aprés le Bal Quatres Arts! O c’était terrible!” He, Benoit, was
-constrained to prevent a certain young Englishman, who habitually was
-“tout à fait milord,” from importing to his apartment a lady dressed as
-Britannia, whom he claimed as his bride. It was undoubtedly very droll,
-and he was sympathetic, but the good name of the house came first, and
-since no marriage lines were available, husband and wife were forced to
-celebrate their nuptials apart. Doubtless the young man was carried away
-by patriotism, but if the excellent “Madame” had heard of such goings on
-she would have been in a fine rage.
-
-Further advices were given as to where Wynne would do well to seek his
-food. He would find excellent hospitality “chez Bouillon Aristide” at
-the corner, and a little further down the Rue St. Honoré was a creamery
-whose chocolate and croissons would compare with those set upon the
-table of the President.
-
-He urged Wynne to avoid sliding on the polished floor of his bedroom,
-since the practice provided him with additional labour in the mornings.
-Also he volunteered the remark that the room was popular because it was
-very amusing.
-
-Wynne liked the room, but could not at the time comprehend in what sense
-the word amusing could be associated with it. When he awoke the
-following morning an explanation arose, for his ears were filled with
-the sound of girls’ voices singing a merry song.
-
-Opening his eyes he observed through the window an apartment some twenty
-feet away on the other side of the courtyard. Herein sat perhaps a dozen
-little workgirls, plaiting and combing long switches of false hair. They
-were employés of a perruquier, and cheerful, light-hearted souls they
-appeared to be. When he sat up in bed they greeted him with the
-friendliest gaiety, giving thanks that their fears that he might be dead
-were not realized.
-
-Wynne felt a little embarrassed having to make his toilet in these
-circumstances. He remained between the sheets indecisively until forced
-to rise by the friendly chaffery from opposite. Then he grabbed his
-clothes from the chair and ran the gauntlet to the corner of the room,
-where he might dress without being observed.
-
-This manœuvre excited gusts of merriment, in which he found himself
-joining very heartily.
-
-After all, why should one mind dressing before an audience? It was
-ridiculous to be super-modest over such trifles. He realized with a
-start that his own stock of unconventionalism was thoroughly outclassed
-by these simple little midinettes, and this being so, he at once
-conceived for them a very profound esteem.
-
-Accordingly, with a hairbrush in one hand and his braces trailing behind
-him, he stepped upon the tiny balcony and said:
-
-“Bon jour. Je pense que vous êtes très, très douce les toutes.”
-
-The cordial reception accorded to this sentiment encouraged him to
-further efforts. He found, however, that his stock of French was
-insufficient for the needs of the occasion. After a laborious endeavour
-to express appreciation for their sunny broad-minded temperaments and to
-include a few words stating that his mission in life was to inculcate a
-similar breadth of mind to the hide-bound pedants who infested the
-world, he was compelled to stop for lack of the material to proceed.
-
-His merry audience, in spite of having failed to understand a single
-word, cheered the speech very generously, and blew him a cloud of aerial
-kisses.
-
-
- II
-
-Wynne Rendall took his chocolate and immersed his roll therein with all
-the skill of a Parisian, and later, in a very rapturous frame of mind,
-crossed the Seine by the Pont des Arts and made his way to the Rue du
-Dragon. He had no difficulty in discovering the Atelier Julien, and
-addressing himself to a bearded and aproned old gentleman who sat on a
-high stool in a very small office.
-
-He had feared there might be difficulty in gaining admission, since he
-could claim no previous experience of the plastic arts, but in this his
-misgivings proved groundless. It was merely a matter of paying one’s
-fee—a small fee at that—and taking one’s place.
-
-Asked if he had any choice of masters, he shook his head. He was placed
-therefore under the guardianship of Le Maître Jean Paul Laurens, a man
-“both strong and brilliant,” whose studio was on the first floor.
-
-Since he desired to spend the day seeing Paris, and purchasing colours
-and canvas, Wynne decided he would not start work until the morrow.
-
-“Bien; demain matin à huit heures! Très bien. Au ’voir.”
-
-
- III
-
-It was splendid to reflect that he was a full-blown student of the
-Quartier, thought Wynne, as with ringing steps he swung along the narrow
-thoroughfares. He wished Uncle Clem had been there to witness his glory.
-Never before had he felt so confident of his own personality. Rivulets
-of water danced and chattered along the gutters reflecting the gladness
-of his mood—the sun shone gloriously on the tall white houses. Quaint
-old men with baskets of merchandise piped beseechingly on tiny horns.
-Thousands of purple-dyed eggs filled the shop windows, and the
-wonderful, everchanging, raffish, homely crowds chattered, gesticulated
-and hurried along in ceaseless streams.
-
-Wynne was possessed with a foolish desire to shake hands with every one
-he met, and tell them all about himself; to explain why he had come, and
-to give them a glimpse of the workings of his many-sided nature. A
-measure of common sense dissuaded him from so doing, but he sang as he
-walked, and expanded his narrow chest to its fullest capacity. Presently
-he found himself by the riverside, and hovered awhile over the
-book-sellers’ stalls perched on the stone copings of the embankment. At
-one of these he bought a translation of Shakespeare’s works, an old
-volume of Balzac, and some paper-bound copies of the plays of Molière.
-It was the first time he had rummaged among books, and the experience
-was delightful. The mere touch of them sent a thrill of learning through
-his being.
-
-For awhile he hovered by the riverside watching the energetic
-steamboats—the sober barges—and the great floating warehouses moored
-by the tow-path. Everywhere were people sketching—placid and
-preoccupied. No crowds of curious urchins jostled around them with
-stupid comments, as was always the case at home when any one had the
-temerity to bring their colour-box into the open day.
-
-Paris respected its artists, and gave them as great seclusion out of
-doors as in their own studios. Sombre sportsmen, rodded and
-camp-stooled, lined the banks and strove to catch the elusive gudgeon.
-It seemed as though their attention was centred anywhere but upon the
-float. Their eyes rested dreamily on the spanned arches of Pont Neuf or
-the flying buttresses of Notre Dame, while invisible fish in the green
-waters beneath worried the bait from the hook with perfect immunity from
-danger.
-
-To the island of Notre Dame Wynne directed his steps, and spent an hour
-of sheer delight with imagination let loose. Romance breathed in the air
-around him, and memory of dead things sprang to life. He pictured
-himself back in Dumas’ days—with king’s men and
-cardinals—swashbuckling on the footway—with masked ladies flitting
-into dark doorways, and the tinkle of blade against blade from some
-courtyard near at hand.
-
-Chance led him to enter a low, stone building by one of the bridges. All
-manner of men and women passed in and out of this place, and Wynne
-followed the general lead. There was a glass compartment across the far
-side of the hall, before which a large crowd was assembled. A nursemaid
-wheeling a perambulator, and a group of blue-smocked, pipe-smoking
-ouvriers hid from view what the case contained.
-
-The exhibits, whatever they might be, were clearly very popular. Wynne
-reflected that probably they were Napoleonic relics, or maybe the crown
-jewels, when a rift in the crowd betrayed the fact that the case was
-full of dead men. With heads tilted at shy and foolish angles, with
-bodies lolling limply against the sloped marble slabs, the corpses of
-the Seine bleared stupidly at the quick.
-
-It was the first time Wynne had looked on the face of the dead, and the
-sight chilled him with a faint, freezing sickness.
-
-“Oh, God, how awful!” he muttered, and turned to go, but the way before
-him was barred by fresh arrivals. “I want to get out,” he cried, but no
-one heeded him. He began to struggle, when a firm hand fell on his
-shoulder, and a voice, speaking with a Southern American accent, said:
-
-“Calm down, son. What’s the trouble?”
-
-Wynne looked up and saw a tall, broad-shouldered man smiling upon him.
-He wore a blue serge shirt, a pair of sailor’s breeches, and no hat. His
-black, sleek hair hung loosely over his left temple.
-
-“It’s horrible,” said Wynne. “I want to get away.”
-
-“Yer wrong,” came the answer. “Yer wan’ to stop. The spirit of Paris
-abides in this place. There’s no intensive life without an intensive
-death. Only when they come here do they realize how very much alive they
-are. Sometimes I believe the Morgue is the greatest tonic in this city.
-Now jest pull up and we’ll step round the cases together.”
-
-Wynne shook his head.
-
-“Yer not afraid?”
-
-“No, but—it seems so callous, and—I want to live—and do great
-things—wonders. I don’t want to stare at a row of corpses.”
-
-“There’s a fellow there”—he nodded his head toward the case—“who was
-an artist. He wanted to live and perform wonders too. Then he found out
-that he couldn’t—found out that a dozen idle, do-nothing fellows could
-outclass him at every turn. What happens? He puts a brick in pocket and
-jumps. Seems to me, with your ideas, you might learn something from the
-page of those cold features.”
-
-“All right,” said Wynne; “lead away.”
-
-They joined the crowd that slowly filed past the silent watchers.
-
-“I’m glad I saw them,” he said, as they turned once more toward the
-door. “I never realized before what full-stop meant. It makes one feel
-the need to get on—and on. Death is so horribly conclusive.”
-
-He drew a breath of air gratefully as they came into the sunlight.
-
-“A cure for slackers, eh?” said the American.
-
-“Yes—rather.”
-
-He was a pleasant fellow, the American, and volunteered to share a table
-at lunch.
-
-“Painting student?” he asked.
-
-“I’m making a start tomorrow at Julien’s.”
-
-“Then pay for your drink when the Massier introduces himself, and if you
-know a rorty song sing it for all you’re worth.”
-
-After lunch he helped Wynne buy colours, brushes, and a beautiful walnut
-palette, then wished him luck and departed.
-
-They never met again. Paris is the place of quick friendships and
-equally quick partings. Races lose their characteristic shyness under
-the Paris sun. Strangers accost each other and join in day-long or
-night-long festivities, exchange their most intimate thoughts, and
-finally go their ways without even so much as asking each other’s names.
-
-
- IV
-
-Wynne arrived at the Atelier Jean Paul Laurens at a quarter to the hour
-of eight A. M. He was the first comer, and had a moment’s leisure to
-survey his surroundings. The studio itself was not large, and as high as
-the arm could reach the walls were plastered, generations deep, with
-palette scrapings. Above in great profusion were studies from the nude,
-heads and charcoal drawings in every possible mood of form and light. To
-Wynne, hitherto accustomed to regard paintings as pictures, these
-canvases struck a note of brutal coarseness, offending his æsthetic
-sensibilities. They seemed no more than men and women stripped of their
-clothing and indecently exposed.
-
-“God! I won’t paint like that,” he thought.
-
-From a great pile of easels in the corner he selected one and disposed
-it a few feet away from the model’s throne; which done, he set his
-palette with an infinite number of small dabs of colour. He thrust a few
-brushes through the thumb-hole, and was ready to make a start when the
-time arrived.
-
-Presently a little Italian girl, with heavy gold rings in her ears, and
-a coloured kerchief over her head, came in and nodded a greeting.
-
-“Nouveau?” she inquired.
-
-“Oui,” replied Wynne.
-
-She smiled agreeably, and seating herself on the throne kicked her shoes
-behind a screen and pulled off her stockings.
-
-“O-ooo!” she shivered, “c’est pas chaud.”
-
-She nodded toward the stove, and Wynne was glad of the opportunity to
-put on some coal, since he was conscious of some small uneasiness, alone
-and unoccupied while the maiden disrobed. He took as long as possible,
-and when he had finished discovered that she had finished too, and was
-calling upon him to provide her with a “couverture.” This he sought and
-handed to her, not entirely without embarrassment.
-
-“Merci, Bébé,” said the Italian, and draped the old curtain around
-herself.
-
-From the passage outside came the sound of many footsteps—a clamour of
-voices, and a moment later some twenty students clattered into the
-studio, with others at their heels. They were men of all ages and every
-nationality—some dressed as typical art students, others as
-conventionally attired as any young gentleman from Bond Street. An
-impulse which they shared in common was to make a noise, and in this
-they achieved a very high standard of perfection. A great variety of
-sounds were produced, mostly patterned from the fowl-run or the asses’
-stall. One serious-minded and bearded boy devoted his ingenuity to
-reproducing the noise of a motor horn; while another, leaping to the
-model’s throne, hailed the dawn like any chanticleer. Espying Wynne’s
-beautifully white canvas perched upon its easel, a red-headed Alsatian
-flung a tabouret which swept all before it, and sent the new palette
-planing to the floor.
-
-“What the devil do you mean by that?” cried Wynne, and was told to “Shut
-up, you silly ass. Don’t ask for trouble,” by an English voice at the
-back of the crowd.
-
-At this moment a very precise little Frenchman stepped forward and made
-a bow.
-
-“Moi je suis le Massier,” he announced, and asked if Wynne were prepared
-to stand a drink to the students. Twelve francs was the sum
-required—payable in advance.
-
-The money was produced, whereat every one, including the model, who had
-borrowed a long painter’s coat for the occasion, rushed from the studio.
-Half the crowd became wedged in the doorway, and the other half fell
-down the stairs _en masse_. Wynne was swept along by the tidal wave at
-the rear, and trod on many prostrate pioneers before swinging out into
-the Rue du Dragon. There was a small café fifty yards distant, and
-thither they raced, sweeping every one from the pavements as they ran.
-Further jostling ensued at the doors of the café, but finally every one
-struggled through and found accommodation.
-
-A chair was set upon a table and Wynne invited to occupy it. This he did
-with very great satisfaction and a kingly feeling. Busy waiters below
-hurried round with trays, bearing glasses of black coffee, and a very
-innocuous fluid known as “grog Americaine.”
-
-When all had been served the Massier called upon the “nouveau” to give a
-song, and reminded him that failure to do so might result in unhappy
-consequences.
-
-So Wynne stood upon the chair, with his head touching the ceiling, and
-sang several questionable limericks at the top of his voice. Hardly a
-soul understood the words, but from the spirit of their delivery they
-judged them to be indecent and bawdy, and as such very acceptable to
-hear. Moreover, there was a refrain in which all were able to join, and
-this in itself readily popularized the effort.
-
-The Massier personally complimented the vocalist, and suggested that the
-occasion was almost sufficient to justify a barricade.
-
-Cries were raised that nothing short of the barricade could be
-contemplated, and in an instant all the chairs and tables from the café
-were cast outside into the street. Skilled at their work, the
-barricaders set one table against the other with chairs before them. The
-company then seated itself and began to sing. Ladies from adjoining
-houses leaned out and threw smiles of encouragement, and the traffic in
-both directions ceased to flow.
-
-Many and strange were the songs sung, and they dealt with life and
-adventure of a coarse but frisky kind.
-
-Thus the passers-by learned what befell an officer who came across the
-Rhine, a sturdy fellow with an eye for a maid, and a compelling way with
-him to wit. Some there were who glowered disapprovingly at this morning
-madness, but more generally the audience were sympathetic, and yielded
-to the student the right of levity.
-
-All would have gone well but for a surly dray-driver, who, wearying of
-the hold-up, urged his hairies into the midmost table with a view to
-breaking the barricade. This churlish act excited the liveliest
-activity. The horses were drawn from the shafts and led forthwith into a
-small greengrocer’s shop, where they feasted royally upon the carrots
-and swedes basketed in abundance about them. The owner of the shop and
-the driver raised their voices in protest, and their cries attracted the
-attention of the patron of the café. This good man, supported by three
-waiters, came forth and argued that the jest had gone far enough.
-
-In so doing he was ill-advised, for in Paris a kill-joy invariably
-prejudices his own popularity. Some of the students formed a cordon
-about the good man and his staff, while others seized the chairs and
-tables and piled them on the tops of the waiting vehicles. This done
-they started the horses with cries and blows, and a moment later the
-furniture was careering up the street in all directions.
-
-“C’est fini,” said the Massier.
-
-The cordon broke, Monsieur le Patron and his garçons were away in
-pursuit, and the students, headed by the bare-footed Italian girl in her
-paint-smeared jacket, turned once more to their labours.
-
-Wynne was almost exhausted with laughter. It seemed impossible such
-revels could be conducted by perfectly sober men before half-past eight
-in the morning. Perhaps strangest of all was the suddenness with which
-the robes of gaiety were discarded, for ten minutes later each man was
-at his easel setting out his palette as soberly as a city clerk plays
-dominoes during the luncheon hour.
-
-
- V
-
-It should be stated that Wynne Rendall showed small skill as a painter.
-He approached the task with a pleasant conviction that he would at least
-rival if not excel the ordinary run of students. At school he had been
-able to achieve clever little caricatures of masters and boys, and he
-had thought to draw from life would be a simpler matter altogether. To
-his chagrin he discovered that he was not able even to place the figure
-roughly upon a canvas. He realized the intention of the pose, but his
-efforts to convey it were futile and grotesque.
-
-With jealous irritation he observed how the other students dashed in the
-rough constructive features of a figure with sure sense of proportion
-and animation.
-
-“Wha’ are ye trying to do?” inquired a Scotch lad, who had abandoned his
-work for the pleasure of watching Wynne’s confusion. “Mon, it’s awfu’.
-Have ye no drawn from the antique?”
-
-Wynne was not disposed to give himself away, although the words made him
-hot with shame.
-
-“Every one has his own method,” he retorted.
-
-“A’mitted, but there’s no meethod in yon. Stand awa’ a meenit.” And
-before Wynne had time to protest he struck a dozen red lines upon the
-canvas which gave an almost instantaneous likeness to the subject.
-
-“Leave it alone,” said Wynne. “It isn’t yours.”
-
-“I need hairdly say I’m glad. Now look ye here. Ye know naything, and a
-leetle ceevil attention will profit ye.”
-
-He did not pay the slightest heed to Wynne’s sulky rejoinder, but,
-sucking at his pipe, continued to work on the canvas with great
-dexterity and skill. Presently he wearied of the occupation, and Wynne
-came back to his own with a somewhat chastened spirit.
-
-It is an understood thing in the ateliers that every one criticizes
-every one else, and supports his theories by painting on the canvas he
-may be discussing. Before the day was out half a dozen different men
-left their mark on Wynne’s study. The most irritating feature about this
-practice was the coincidence that they always obliterated some little
-passage with which he was pleased. To quote one instance, he had
-succeeded rather happily in the treatment of an eye, imparting to it a
-sparkle and lustre that gave him profound satisfaction. He could have
-screamed with rage when the red-headed Alsatian, dipping his thumb in
-some raw umber, blotted it out, saying sweetly:
-
-“It is not that it is an eye—it is a shadow that it should be.”
-
-A similar experience occurred when, a week later, the great Jean Paul
-Laurens halted in amazement and disgust before his performance.
-
-“This,” said he, “is a series of trivial incidents, of disjointed
-details! To we artists the human figure is a mass of light and shade. It
-is not made up of legs and hands, and breasts, and ears and teeth.
-No—by the good God, no!”
-
-With which he seized a brush and scrabbled a quantity of flake white
-over the entire surface.
-
-“Good!” he said. “It is finished.” And passed on to the next.
-
-Thinking the matter over in bed that night Wynne realized he had learnt
-a great and valuable lesson: breadth of view—visualizing life as a
-whole. It was knowledge that could be applied to almost everything.
-Detail merely existed as part of the whole, but the whole was not
-arrived at by assembling detail.
-
-The same would apply, he perceived, to every art, to business, too, and
-to life in general. He began to understand how it was possible for
-people like Wallace and his father to have their place in the scheme of
-things. They ceased to exist as individual items, brought into undue
-prominence by enforced propinquity, but became parts of a great
-machinery whose functions were too mighty to comprehend. These were the
-shadows which gave tone-value to the high-lights. They were vital and
-essential, and without them there would be no contrast, no variety,
-nothing but flat levels—dull and marshy—and never a hill on the
-horizon showing purple in the morning sun.
-
-“I must learn this trade of painting,” said Wynne, “it’s the short road
-to all knowledge.”
-
-He flung himself into the work with an energy truly remarkable. From
-early morning till midnight he battled with the craft, and thought and
-talked of nothing else. In the cafés, where students met and thrashed
-out their thousand ideas, Wynne was well bethought, for although his
-skill with a brush was small he could advance and support a theory with
-the liveliest talker in the Quartier. His success in argument was,
-perhaps, not altogether of advantage to his immortal soul, since it led
-him to cultivate a cynical attitude toward most affairs. He very readily
-became conversant with the works of the Masters, old and new, and
-praised or attacked them with great impartiality. Preferably he would
-detract from accepted geniuses, and deliver the most scathing criticisms
-against pictures before which mankind had prostrated itself for
-centuries. One day he would admit of the value of no artist save Manet,
-and another would accuse him of possessing neither skill nor artistry,
-but merely “a singularly adroit knack of expressing vulgarity.”
-
-He did not attempt to be honest in regard to his points of view, being
-perfectly satisfied so long as he could hold a controversial opinion.
-
-Not infrequently high words would result from these discussions, and on
-one occasion a table was overset, glasses smashed, and a chair flung.
-Police arrived on the scene, and Wynne and three companions spent the
-night in a lockup. This he did not mind in the least, and continued to
-air his views in the small hours of the morning until threatened with
-solitary confinement unless he desisted.
-
-
- VI
-
-On the tenth week after his arrival in Paris, Wynne’s money gave out. He
-had not bothered to consider what he should do when this happened, and
-as a result poverty seized him unprepared.
-
-To do him justice he did not bother in the least as to the future of his
-bodily welfare, but was distressed beyond expression at the thought of
-abandoning his studies.
-
-A wild idea possessed him to sell some of his future years for a few
-more terms at the studio. He even went to the length of discussing the
-project with the Massier. This gentleman, however, shook his head
-dubiously.
-
-“Impossible,” he said.
-
-“Why?” said Wynne. “I’ll give two-thirds of all I earn for the next
-three years to any one who’ll finance me now.”
-
-“No doubt; but, monsieur, philanthropists are few in the Quartier—and
-your painting!” He made an expressive gesture. “Your paintings will
-never be sold. He who gave the money would see it again—never! I am
-sorry—it is sad—but what would you?”
-
-Wynne turned away heavy at heart and angry, and next morning his place
-before the throne was vacant.
-
-
- VII
-
-Of all cities in the world Paris is the least hospitable to a bankrupt.
-It does not ask a man to be rich, and it does not mind if he be poor,
-for the great Parisian heart is warm to either state, but for the man
-who is destitute there is no place in its affections.
-
-Your Quartier art student is an easy-going fellow in most directions,
-who will share his wine and his love with amiable impartiality, but he
-is proof against the borrower’s craft, and will do anything rather than
-lend money.
-
-Of this circumstance Wynne was already aware, and in a sense was glad
-that it should be so. He was not of the kind who borrow, but had it been
-easy to negotiate a loan his awkward plight might have weighed against
-the maintenance of his ideals.
-
-As he walked up the Rue Buonaparte, his colour-box swinging in his hand,
-he reflected that the moment had come to prove his fibre. Between
-himself and starvation was a sum amounting to one franc fifty centimes,
-barely enough to purchase a couple of modest meals.
-
-“This time the day after tomorrow I shall be very hungry,” he said.
-
-He was not alarmed at the prospect—and, indeed, he regarded it with a
-queer sense of excitement. By some twist of imagination he conceived
-that an adventurous credit was reflected upon himself by the very
-emptiness of his pockets. Tradition showed that most of the world’s
-great artists had passed through straitened circumstances, wherefore it
-was only right and proper he should do otherwise. Certainly there was no
-very manifest advantage in starving, but it would be pleasant to reflect
-that one _had_ starved. Almost he wished he could banish the still
-haunting flavour of the chocolate he had drunk at his _petit déjeuner_,
-and feel the pangs of hunger tormenting his vitals. He consoled himself
-with the thought that these would occur soon enough. In the meantime it
-would be well to consider what line of action he proposed to take. The
-impulse to do a sketch and carry it to market he dismissed at once. The
-schools had taught him that whatever virtues his artistry might possess,
-they were not of a saleable kind. It was therefore folly to waste his
-money in buying a good canvas which would undoubtedly be spoilt.
-
-“No good,” he argued. “No good at all. I must do something that I can
-do.”
-
-On the embankment he was accosted by the keeper of a bookstall which of
-late he had patronized freely.
-
-“I have here a copy of the verses of Sully Prudhomme,” said the man,
-“and the price is but one franc. Such a chance will scarcely arrive
-again.”
-
-It was sheer bravado, but Wynne bought the little volume without so much
-as an attempt to beat down the price. He felt no end of a fine fellow as
-he pocketed it and strolled away. Yet, curiously enough, he had not gone
-far before a panic seized him and he longed to rush back and beg for his
-money to be returned.
-
-“That’s silly,” he told himself—“cowardly.” His hand stole to his
-pocket and took comfort from the feel of the fifty centime piece which
-remained.
-
-“If I were really a man I’d spend that too.”
-
-And spend it he did, but on a long loaf of stale bread which he brought
-back with him to the hotel.
-
-He found Benoit at his interminable occupation of polishing the bedroom
-floor. This duty was performed by means of a flat brush strapped to the
-sole of the boot. The excellent fellow, while so employed, resembled a
-chicken scratching in straw for oats. Polishing had become a second
-nature to Benoit. He polished while he made beds, he polished while he
-emptied slops, he polished while he indulged in his not infrequent
-spells of religious rumination.
-
-It was in this latter state of mind Wynne found him, and for want of a
-better confidant explained his unfortunate predicament.
-
-“Benoit,” he said, “I am ruined—utterly ruined and penniless.”
-
-“That,” replied the garçon, “is a pity, since I had had in mind that on
-the morrow you would be giving me five francs.”
-
-It is the custom to give five francs to the garçon at the beginning of
-each month.
-
-“Your chances of getting it, Benoit, are very remote.”
-
-“It is to be hoped you will, then, be able to give me ten in the month
-which follows.”
-
-“I pray that it may be so. In the meantime what am I to do that I may
-subsist?”
-
-“That is a matter which rests with the good God.”
-
-“Suing your pardon, I prefer to believe that it rests with me, Benoit.”
-
-“It is inferior! I remark that you already possess bread.”
-
-“It is the smaller part of my possessions.”
-
-“And the larger, m’sieur?”
-
-“Brains, Benoit—brains.”
-
-“For myself I had rather have of the bread, believing it to be the more
-substantial blessing.”
-
-“Which proves, Benoit, that you speak without consideration. A fool and
-his loaf are soon parted, but a wise man has that within his head which
-will stock a bakery.”
-
-“May it prove so with you, m’sieur.”
-
-“A thousand thanks. But, to return to our muttons, how am I to use my
-brains to best advantage?”
-
-“By considering the lives of the saints, m’sieur.”
-
-“A pious answer, Benoit, but I seek to use them to more profitable
-account. When I am relieved of the immediate anxiety of prematurely
-meeting these personages, I shall doubtless be better able to direct my
-thoughts toward them.”
-
-“I can only repeat, m’sieur, that in divine consideration lies the
-province of the brain. If it be the body you desire to profit, then,
-beyond doubt, it is your hands must seek employment.”
-
-“But I have no skill of the hands, Benoit.”
-
-“There is no great skill required, m’sieur, to carry a basket at Les
-Arles.”[1]
-
-“I urge you, Benoit, to avoid words of folly. Am I of the fibre to lift
-crates from a market cart? And if I were, do you suppose I could adjust
-my intellect to so clumsy a calling?”
-
-“It is better, m’sieur, to engage upon a humble task than to wallow with
-the gudgeon of the Seine.”
-
-“Pooh! Benoit, am I a likely suicide?”
-
-“Given no meat, a man will drink betimes over-deeply of the water.”
-
-The answer and memory of a certain grotesque figure in the Morgue gave
-Wynne to pause.
-
-“You are a cold comforter,” he said. “Have you no happier suggestion to
-offer?”
-
-“I speak from knowledge, m’sieur. If you are destitute you must be
-content with the smallest blessings.”
-
-“But I have intellect, Benoit, in larger measure than most. Is there no
-market for intellect in this city of Paris?”
-
-“There will be better intellects than yours that sleep without a roof in
-Paris tonight. Why should you, a stranger, look to France to buy your
-thoughts?”
-
-“Because France alone, of all countries, holds out the hand of welcome
-to Art.”
-
-“It may be so—and it may be in so doing she fills her own coffers.
-These are matters which I do not understand, but I know well, and well
-enough, that the stranger may learn an art in this city, but he cannot
-sell it here. M’sieur, when your bread is eaten I would advise that you
-go to Les Arles and offer your hands. There is always a value for hands,
-even though it be but very small, and maybe, by using them, you would in
-the end find profit for the brain.”
-
-“Hum!” said Wynne despondently, “of all men you are the most cheerless.”
-
-“But indeed no. If my mind was melancholy it was but to suit an occasion
-of some sadness. Let us, if you will, speak of lighter affairs.”
-
-But since that line of conversation inevitably led to descriptions of
-_jeunes filles_ who at one time or another had confided their affections
-over-deeply to Benoit’s keeping, Wynne declined the invitation, and,
-picking up his cap, descended the stairs and walked towards the Louvre.
-
-The discussion had done little to brighten his horizon, and he was
-oppressed with misgivings as he passed through the streets. Obviously it
-was absurd to attach importance to the words of an ignorant _valet de
-chambre_. On the other hand, there was a degree of probability in what
-he had said which could not be lightly dismissed.
-
-Suddenly an idea possessed him, and his spirits rose with a leap. It
-occurred from the memory of a remark made by the patron of a _brasserie_
-in the Boule Miche.
-
-“Ah, monsieur,” he had said, “it is long since we entertained a customer
-who spoke with such inspiration on so many subjects.”
-
-The remark had been made after a long sitting in which Wynne had held
-the attention of a dozen students for several hours while he threw off
-his red-hot views on art and life in general. As a result the little
-absorbent mats, upon which the glasses stand, and which mark the number
-of drinks each man has taken, had piled high.
-
-“I measure the value of conversation,” the patron had continued, “by the
-amount of bock which is consumed, and tonight has surpassed all previous
-records. I trust m’sieur will return many times, and place me even more
-deeply in his debt.”
-
-“By Heaven,” thought Wynne, “I believe he’d pay me a salary to talk.”
-
-So greatly did the belief take hold of him that, unthinkingly, he sprang
-upon a tram, only to spring off again with the recollection that he had
-not the wherewithal to pay the fare.
-
-M. le Patron greeted Wynne with amiable courtesy, and invited him to be
-seated, asking at the same time what manner of drink would be agreeable
-to his taste.
-
-“I want nothing,” said Wynne, “but the privilege of a few moments’
-conversation.”
-
-“That will be delightful; then we will sit together.”
-
-“I do not know if you remember an evening a short while ago when I was
-here.”
-
-“It is, indeed, one of my pleasantest recollections.”
-
-“On that occasion you were good enough to observe that my conversation
-resulted in a marked increase in your sales of liquor.”
-
-“And indeed, m’sieur, it was no less than the truth. The nimbleness of
-m’sieur’s wit, the charm of his address, and the adroitness of his
-argument are only comparable to those of that most admirable Bohemian,
-Monsieur Robinson, who, I have no doubt, is well known in England.”
-
-“Probably,” said Wynne, “although I have never heard of him. But to
-return. I have come here today to make you a business proposition.”
-
-“It is very kind.”
-
-“Not at all. I am obliged to do something of the sort owing to financial
-difficulties which have suddenly arisen.”
-
-“Tch-tch-tch! How very provoking.”
-
-It was noticeable, however, that the brow of M. le Patron had clouded,
-and his sympathy was not wholly genuine. Wynne, however, was paying more
-attention to himself than to the attitude of his hearer.
-
-“What I was about to suggest is this. Encouraged by your words of a
-month ago, I am willing to occupy a table at your café each night, and
-to discourse upon all the burning questions of the day. In return for
-this small service and the undoubted credit it will bring to the
-establishment, I put forward that you should offer me the hospitality of
-free meals and a trifle of twenty francs a week for my expenses.”
-
-He delivered the speech with an air of cordiality and condescension
-designed to introduce the offer in the most favourable light. Hearing
-his words as he spoke them there remained small doubt in his mind that
-the astute Frenchman would embrace the opportunity with gratitude. In
-this, however, he was sadly at fault.
-
-“M’sieur is an original,” came the answer; “but he can hardly be
-serious.”
-
-“I am entirely serious.”
-
-“Then I fear that, with due regret, I must decline.”
-
-“Decline? But—but the notion was originally your own. I should not have
-suggested it had it not been that you—”
-
-“Pardon, m’sieur, I see the fault was mine, and my words evidently
-placed m’sieur under a misapprehension. He will readily perceive,
-however, that, as patron, it is my duty to be affable, and, although it
-desolates me to confess so much, it has been my long habit to express to
-all my more loquacious guests precisely the same sentiments which I
-addressed to m’sieur on the evening of which he spoke.”
-
-“Oh! has it?” said Wynne, rather dully. “Then there’s no more to be
-said.”
-
-“Alas! no. It is sad, but what would you? Au revoir, m’sieur.”
-
-“Au ’voir.” He moved a pace away, then turned. “I suppose you haven’t
-any sort of job you could offer me?”
-
-“Unhappily!” said the patron, and turned to welcome a new arrival.
-
-“I shan’t give up,” muttered Wynne, as he walked moodily down the busy
-boulevard. “After all, it was only a first attempt.”
-
-But he did not sleep very easily that night. He lay with his eyes open
-in the dark and wondered what would befall him—where he would be in a
-week’s time—if what Benoit had said were true. These and a thousand
-perplexing fears and fancies raced and jostled through his brain.
-Presently one big thought rose and dominated all the rest.
-
-“I mustn’t forget any of this. It is all valuable—all part of the
-lesson—part of the training—part of the price which a climber has to
-pay.”
-
-Then he thought of The Cedars, and of Wallace setting forth to the City
-after a “good” breakfast.
-
-Wallace would have “sensible” boots, and would carry an umbrella.
-Wallace would exchange views on the subject of politics or chip-carving
-with other folk as sober as himself. Wallace would smirk at his
-employer, and would eat a Cambridge sausage for his lunch. Wallace would
-go to bed at 10.30 P. M. that he might be ready to do these things again
-on the morrow. With this reflection there came to Wynne a very glorious
-satisfaction.
-
-“I wouldn’t change with you,” he said, and turning on his side fell into
-a comfortable and easy sleep.
-
------
-
-[1] The Covent Gardens of Paris.
-
-
- VIII
-
-The sun was shining brightly when he awoke, and all the little
-midinettes were in full song.
-
-Wynne sat up in bed and ate a piece of his bread and drank a glass of
-water. Asked why he did so, he cheerfully replied,
-
-“Moi, je suis ruiné.”
-
-Whereupon the maidens laughed very heartily and said he was a droll.
-
-Wynne had become quite used to the little audience across the way and
-scarcely took them into consideration. Women, as such, made little or no
-impression upon him. He liked them well enough, but never cared to
-better his knowledge or acquaintance with any with whom he had come into
-contact. Physically they made not the slightest appeal to him—his
-senses were inert toward the impulse of sex, and he was given to
-criticize contemptuously those of his companions who staked their
-emotions in the ways of passion.
-
-“Do not imagine I suffer from moral convictions,” he would say; “but,
-according to my views, you attach an importance to these matters out of
-all relation to their value.”
-
-The sentence had inflamed to a very high degree the student to whom it
-was addressed.
-
-“Fool! Fish!” he had shouted, by way of argument; and again, “Fish!
-Fish!”
-
-To a running fire of semi-serious sympathy Wynne dressed himself and
-went out. In a sense he was a little distressed to sacrifice his
-accustomed cup of early morning chocolate—but this, he argued, was a
-matter of small concern. A plethora of victuals stagnates the mind, and
-on this day he had every reason to desire a clear head.
-
-In the Elysée Gardens he found a bench and contracted his brow in
-meditation. What, he ruminated, were the essentials required to gain a
-livelihood? Obviously there was a place for every one in this world, or
-mankind would not survive the ordeal of birth. There was a place for
-people of every kind of intelligence—a glance at the passers-by proved
-it, and proved that even the stupid may sometimes prosper. This being
-so, it was obvious that the wise must prosper even more greatly.
-
-“What have I got to sell?” he asked himself. “What have I got that these
-other people desire? What can I do that other people can’t do?”
-
-But though he racked his brain he could find no answer to the questions.
-
-After a while he rose and started to walk. He walked fast, as if to
-escape from his own thoughts, and Fear, so it seemed, walked by his
-side.
-
-“Nothing,” said Fear—“you have nothing to sell. Nobody wants
-you—nobody will care if you starve.”
-
-“Go away,” said Wynne. “I tell you I am wanted. I say I shan’t starve.”
-
-“Little idiot! What have you learnt to do but sneer at the real worker?
-There is no market price for sneers. Sneerers starve—starve! Who are
-you to laugh at the honest people of the world?”
-
-“I didn’t laugh. I only pitied.”
-
-“How dared you pity—you, who have achieved nothing? Even that small
-errand boy yonder is a worthier citizen than you—he at least earns his
-ten francs a week. What have you earned? Only the wage-slave deserves to
-be a freeman. What is the value of all this trash of art and æsthetics?
-These are only accessories of life—life itself must be learnt before
-you can deal in these.”
-
-“But I don’t want to be a wage-slave. I want to be a king.”
-
-“Kingdoms are not won by desire. You must be a subject first.”
-
-“I will be a king—a ruler.”
-
-“A beggar in a week. Come off the heights, little idiot; come down into
-the plains and lay a road.”
-
-Wynne stopped suddenly in the great quadrangle of the Louvre.
-
-“Right,” he said. “I’ll be content with small beginnings, but show me
-the way to find them.”
-
-And looking across the cobbled yard he saw three people. They were quite
-ordinary, and obviously English. There was a middle-aged man with a
-disposition toward side-whiskers. He carried an umbrella, and wore a
-severe bowler hat. His clothes spoke of prosperity coupled with a due
-regard for quiet colours. By his side walked a stout lady, in a
-tailor-made dress of suburban cut. Upon her head reposed an example of
-Paris millinery, and consciousness of its beauty gave her face an added
-tendency to perspire. It was a new hat, and did not seem to have
-sympathetic relations with her boots. People who go abroad for the first
-time are apt to overestimate the probable amount of wear their
-shoe-leather is likely to incur, and guard against walking barefoot by
-donning boots whose sturdiness would defeat the depredations of a
-Matterhorn climb.
-
-By the lady’s side was a youth—a very unprepossessing youth too. His
-face was blotchy, almost as blotchy as his tie. His waistcoat was
-double-breasted and of a violent grey. He carried a vulgar little cane
-in his yellow-gloved hand.
-
-That the trio were strangers to the city was indisputably betrayed by
-the consciousness of their manner and the elaborate precautions they
-were at to look at everything. The elder man drew attention to a sewer
-grating in the middle of the quadrangle, and pointed with his umbrella
-at the pigeons.
-
-Presently they came to a halt, and produced a Baedeker, which provided
-them with small enlightenment.
-
-“You are supposed to know French,” Wynne heard the elder man say, “then
-why not ask some one how we get into the place.”
-
-“I can’t,” replied the son.
-
-“Well, all I can say is it seems a very funny thing.”
-
-While conversing they failed to observe the approach of an official
-guide, who, complete with ingratiating smile and a parchment of
-credentials, offered to pilot them round the galleries.
-
-At this they at once took flight, with much head-shaking and confusion,
-and had the misfortune to run into the arms of two more of the
-fraternity. These two importuned them afresh.
-
-“Certainly not,” said the paterfamilias, as though he had been asked to
-participate in some very disgraceful orgy.
-
-An Englishman always runs away from a guide, although sooner or later he
-becomes a victim.
-
-Being aware of this fact, one, more assiduous than the rest, followed
-them closely with invitations and beseechings, and headed them toward
-the spot where Wynne was standing. It was clear that the unhappy people
-were greatly unnerved, and equally clear that in a moment they would
-cease to retreat, and surrender.
-
-Perceiving this, Wynne was conceived of an idea, and as they came
-abreast he brought to bear upon the guide with a quick barrage of Paris
-invective. In effect his words were: “These people are my friends—get
-out,” although he coloured up the phrase with some generosity. The
-victory was instantaneous, and a moment later he had raised his hat and
-was saying:
-
-“I don’t think you will be bothered any more.”
-
-“Very kind of you—very kind,” said the father, mopping his brow. “Great
-nuisance, these people.” And the lady favoured Wynne with a grateful
-smile.
-
-“You were about to visit the galleries?”
-
-“Well, we thought we’d take a look round, you know. The thing to do!”
-
-“Oh, quite. Are you familiar with the Louvre?”
-
-“Er, no—no. Can’t say we are—no.”
-
-“H’m. I was wondering if I should offer to conduct you.”
-
-“Hey? Well. Ho! I see! Not a bad idea! What do you say, Ada?”
-
-“It would be very nice.”
-
-“You do this job, then?”
-
-“Occasionally. Not regularly.”
-
-“Well, I don’t mind. Got to see the things, I s’pose.”
-
-“It is customary, isn’t it?” smiled Wynne.
-
-“Hum. How long will it take to do the place?”
-
-“Five years—perhaps a little less.”
-
-The joke was not well received, so Wynne modified it.
-
-“I could show you the more vital points of interest in a couple of
-hours.”
-
-“Two hours, eh? And you’d want how much an hour?”
-
-Wynne considered. “Should we say five francs?” he suggested.
-
-“Jolly sight too much, I call it,” observed the blotchy youth, whose
-name was Vincent. “Get a seat at a café chantong for that.”
-
-“Well, what do you say?” said the father.
-
-“I am silent, like the ‘G’ in _chantong_,” replied Wynne. He had begun
-to feel the spice of adventure in bartering, and would not give ground.
-
-“We mustn’t forget we are on a holiday,” the mother reminded them.
-
-“Let it go,” said the father; “and I only hope it will be worth it.”
-
-“I can promise you it will be more than worth it,” said Wynne, and led
-the way to the entrance.
-
-As they mounted the stairs, blotchy Vincent plucked at his sleeve and
-asked, _sotto voce_:
-
-“I say, do you know Paris well?”
-
-“Intimately. Why?”
-
-“I only wondered.”
-
-He nodded toward his parents and shook his head mysteriously.
-
-Wynne was not entirely easy with his conscience at having accepted the
-post of guide, and determined to justify himself by a great liberality
-of artistic expression. He therefore began to talk with exceeding
-rapidity the moment they entered the first gallery.
-
-“This collection is more or less mediocre, although one or two examples
-are worthy of attention. This Cupid and Psyche, for instance, may at
-first strike you as insipid, but it presents interesting features. You
-observe how there is a far greater similarity between the sexes than we
-find in nature. It is almost as though, by combining the two, the artist
-sought to arrive at the ideal human form.”
-
-“Dare say he did,” admitted the father, rather uncomfortably, while the
-mother looked with eyes that saw nothing. Blotchy Vincent, on the other
-hand, pricked up his ears at the word “sex.”
-
-“One might sum up this school by saying they were inspired by an
-hermaphroditic tendency.”
-
-“M’yes. Well, I don’t think we need inquire into that.
-It’s—hardly—er—”
-
-“The same spirit is prevalent in modern French sculpture.”
-
-“I think we will have a look at something else.”
-
-“That’s a nice picture,” said Mrs. Johns—for Johns was the name of the
-family. “Very nice, I call that—quiet!”
-
-She directed their attention toward a large canvas depicting a lady
-sitting upon a couch with her legs resting straightly on its flat
-surface.
-
-“Ah, that _is_ a nice picture,” agreed Mr. Johns.
-
-Vincent, however, lingered before Cupid and Psyche. It did not compare
-with sundry picture postcards he had seen, but it held greater
-attractions than the portrait of Madame Récamier.
-
-“I consider the colour is disappointing,” observed Wynne—“disappointing
-and improbable. When one comes to consider that Madame Récamier held in
-her day the most popular Salon in Paris, and reflects that to do so she
-must inevitably have been demimondaine of the demimondaine, one is
-justified in expecting an added brilliance to the cheeks and an added
-scarlet to the lips.”
-
-Hereupon Mr. Johns favoured Wynne with a warning look, which he was
-pleased to ignore.
-
-“This particular canvas is illustrative of what somebody—I think Samuel
-Butler—said, that a portrait is never so much of the sitter as of the
-artist. Shall we take some of the older masters next?”
-
-He led the way to an inner gallery, the Johns family trooping behind
-him. As they passed through the arched doorway Mr. and Mrs. Johns
-exchanged glances as though to say:
-
-“I think we have made a great mistake introducing this young man into
-our God-fearing midst!”
-
-Before the canvases of the Old Masters Wynne expanded his views with
-great liberality. Correggio and Botticelli were favoured with a kindly
-mention, Rembrandt was patted on the back, and Raphael severely
-criticized. An ill-advised appreciation of a canvas by Jordeans brought
-upon Mr. Johns a vigorous attack:
-
-“Oh, believe me, very second-rate indeed. A mere copyist of Rubens, who,
-himself, in no way justified the position of being a target at which a
-self-respecting artist should aim. Here is a Titian now—”
-
-“Oh, really!” said Mrs. Johns. “I’ve often heard of Titian red. Do you
-see, father, that’s a Titian.”
-
-“Oh yes,” said Mr. Johns, consulting his catalogue. “So it is. Seems
-good!”
-
-“Very wonderful how the colours last so long. Isn’t it pretty, Vincent?”
-
-“I don’t know,” said Vincent, who was very bored. “Dare say it’s all
-right.”
-
-“I wonder,” remarked Wynne, “if you can detect the fault in that
-picture.”
-
-Mr. and Mrs. Johns half closed their eyes, by which means they fondly
-believed faults were more easily detected. After much consideration they
-produced the joint statement that it looked “a little funny—I don’t
-know!”
-
-“The fault lies in the fact that there are no faults—which, to my way
-of thinking, is very heinous.”
-
-“That sounds nonsense to me,” said Mr. Johns, who was getting heartily
-sick of the whole exposition.
-
-“Not at all. There must be impurity to emphasize purity. Where would the
-Church be were it not for sinners? What would be the worth of virtue if
-there were no vice? Therefore I contend that nothing is so imperfect as
-perfection.”
-
-Carried away by his own arguments, Wynne hurried his charges along to
-Leonardo’s “Baptist.”
-
-Here he drew breath and started to speak afresh.
-
-“An amazingly happy performance—instinct with life, saturated with
-humour. You notice the same classic tendency towards sexlessness? In my
-opinion this is all a painting should be. There is something
-astonishingly compelling in every line of the form and features.”
-
-“She is certainly very pleasant-looking,” said Mrs. Johns. “Who was the
-young lady?”
-
-“John the Baptist, madam.”
-
-At this Mr. Johns very properly interposed with:
-
-“I don’t tolerate jokes about the Bible, young man.”
-
-Even Vincent looked as though he expected Wynne to be struck down by
-some divine and correcting hand. Mrs. Johns was frankly horrified.
-
-“Look at your catalogue,” said Wynne.
-
-This advice Mr. Johns accepted, but even the printed words failed to
-convince him.
-
-“If that’s John the Baptist,” he remarked, “all I can say is that it’s
-not _my_ idea of John the Baptist.”
-
-“What is your idea, sir.”
-
-“An elderly gentleman with a beard.”
-
-“With all respect, I think Leonardo’s is preferable. Youth is more
-appealing than middle age. These half humorous, wholly inspired features
-would lose the greater measure of their attraction if the lower part of
-the face were covered with hair.”
-
-“I don’t agree with you, and I don’t consider the subject at all a
-proper one,” said Mr. Johns sternly. “As for that picture, I am very
-sorry I’ve seen it.”
-
-It is probable Wynne would have answered hotly had not Vincent advanced
-a suggestion:
-
-“Why don’t you and the mater sit down for ten minutes,” he said. “This
-Mr.—er—can take me round for a bit.”
-
-“I’d like to rest my feet,” admitted Mrs. Johns; “the leather has begun
-to draw.”
-
-So Wynne and Vincent entered the next gallery together.
-
-“My people are all right, you know,” said Vincent; “but they are a bit
-off in Paris, you know.”
-
-“Oh, really.”
-
-“Yes. _You_ know! Isn’t there anything a bit more lively we can see? I
-don’t think a lot of these Old Masters—damned if I do.”
-
-Wynne had to bear in mind that he was the servant of these people, and
-accordingly he replied, civilly enough:
-
-“Perhaps you’d like the more modern school better.”
-
-“I thought French painting was a bit livelier, but it seems about as dud
-as the Liverpool Art Gallery. Aren’t there any more of those figure
-pictures?”
-
-“Nudes?”
-
-“That what you call ’em?”
-
-“That is what they are called.”
-
-“Let’s have a look at some, anyway.”
-
-“We’ll go through here, then, and I’ll show you ‘La Source.’ It is
-considered remarkable flesh painting, although I don’t care for it very
-particularly.”
-
-As they turned to the modern side, Vincent dropped his voice, and said:
-
-“Pretty hot, Paris, isn’t it?”
-
-“I’ve never been here in the summer,” replied Wynne, an answer which
-made his companion laugh very heartily.
-
-“You are not giving much away, are you?” he mocked.
-
-“There,” said Wynne; “this is ‘La Source.’”
-
-He halted before Ingres’ masterpiece—the slim figure of a naked girl, a
-tilted pitcher on her shoulder, from which flows a fall of greeny-white
-water.
-
-“Remarkable, perhaps, but not art.”
-
-“No,” said Vincent, “I don’t like it either, you know. I see what you
-mean—it isn’t spicy enough, is it?”
-
-“Spicy?”
-
-“Yes—you know. Look here, I was wanting a chance to speak to you alone.
-I’ve got a bit of money.”
-
-“You are more fortunate than I.”
-
-“I don’t mind you having a bit of it.”
-
-“Oh.”
-
-“The mater and pater get to bed by 10 o’clock, and I could easily slip
-out after that.”
-
-“It ought not to be difficult.”
-
-“We could meet, I thought, and you could show me round a bit. See what
-I’m driving at?”
-
-“No. What _are_ you driving at?”
-
-“I want to see a bit of life, and you’re the chap to show it me.”
-
-And suddenly Wynne became very angry, so angry that his face went pink
-and white in turns.
-
-“What the hell do you mean?” he exploded. “Do you take me for a
-disorderly house tout?”
-
-“Shut up—don’t shout.”
-
-“You dirty, pimply— Good God!”
-
-“If you call me names you won’t get your money.”
-
-“Money!” cried Wynne. “D’you think I’d take money from any one who begat
-a thing like you. Clear out, get away, and tell your father, when next
-he thinks he’d like a son, to blow out his brains instead.”
-
-Thrusting his hands in his empty pockets, and tossing his head from side
-to side, Wynne stamped furiously from the gallery and down the steps to
-the courtyard below.
-
-It was two hours before he recovered an even temper, and then he
-surprised many passers-by by stopping in the middle of the Rue de Rivoli
-and shouting with laughter.
-
-“One up to my immortal soul,” he cried. “And now for Les Arles!”
-
-
- IX
-
-For well-nigh eighteen months Wynne Rendall, seeker of eminence,
-destroyer of symmetry, professor of æsthetic thought, worked with his
-hands in little byways of the unfriendly city.
-
-He had come to look on Paris as the unfriendly city, for very shabbily
-she served him after his money gave out. They laughed at his frail
-stature and careful, elegant speech when he sought work in the Covent
-Garden of the French capital, and it was a desperately gaunt and hungry
-boy who at last found employment in a small _pâtisserie_ somewhere in
-the neighbourhood of Boulevard Magenta. Things had gone so ill with him
-that he was rocking on his heels, staring greedily at the cakes in the
-pastry-cook’s window like any starving urchin. He did not notice the
-printed card, “Youth wanted,” which stood among the trays. A stout woman
-behind the counter saw and beckoned him to enter.
-
-“You look hungry,” she said.
-
-“I am.”
-
-Even short sentences were difficult.
-
-“D’you want work?”
-
-“I want to eat.”
-
-“Eating is for people who work. Would you care for a place here,
-delivering bread? I need some one.”
-
-“I could not be trusted with a loaf,” he said, and fainted.
-
-The stout lady was comparatively kind. She threw water over his face,
-and when he came to, gave him coffee, a piece of sausage, and some
-bread. She allowed him to finish, and then told him very plainly he
-might express gratitude by accepting the post of errand boy at a small
-wage.
-
-To Wynne it seemed that any wage was acceptable which could be earned in
-an atmosphere so rich in odours of cooked corn. He said “Yes” almost
-before she had framed the offer. Later he repented, for the hours of
-labour were incessant, the food scarce, and the room in which he slept
-was dirty, damp, and ill-ventilated. Of his weekly earnings, when he had
-bought himself cigarettes and paid back a certain proportion for
-lodging, there remained little or nothing. Books, which had hitherto
-been the breath of life to him, were of necessity denied. Very
-occasionally he scraped together a few coppers and bought some dusty,
-broken-backed volume which he scarcely ever found leisure to read. He
-was too physically fatigued at night for reading, and during the day was
-kept continually on the run.
-
-He did not stay with the stout lady for long, but the changes he made
-were rarely of great advantage. Once he found employment at a small
-stationer’s, which bade fair to prove pleasanter, but from here he fled
-precipitately on account of the amorous importunities of the stationer’s
-younger daughter. She, poor child, had lost the affections of a certain
-artisan, who lodged in the same house, and sought to regain them by
-exciting jealousy. In the pursuance of this time-worn device she
-proposed to sacrifice Wynne, and was prepared to go to no mean lengths
-in order to give the affair a colourable pretence of reality. Wherefore
-Wynne ran, not so much from the probable fury of the artisan as from a
-vague fear which he did not entirely understand.
-
-After this episode he became a waiter—or, to be exact, a wine boy. In
-this branch of employment he was rather happier, although much of it
-proved irksome and distasteful. He found that a waiter is allowed, and
-even encouraged, to possess a personality. In the other callings in
-which he had worked personality was condemned, but customers welcome an
-individual note in a waiter. It helps them to identify him among his
-similarly arrayed companions, and affords them opportunity for a lavish
-expenditure of wit and sarcasm not always in the best taste.
-
-For the first time Wynne was able to save a little money, which he put
-by towards paying the price of a passage to England. He had decided to
-leave Paris as soon as he had accumulated enough to pay the cost of
-travel. In this matter, however, a certain inconsistency forced him to
-remain. He would save the best part of the two pounds required, and, a
-day or so before departure, would yield to an irresistible impulse and
-spend several francs on the purchase of a book. He did this about a
-dozen times altogether, and although the habit formed the nucleus of a
-library, it postponed his departure indefinitely.
-
-At last he had in his possession the required sum, and determined to
-leave Paris at the close of the week, but certain pneumonic cocci
-floating in the atmosphere and seeking a human abiding place, had other
-plans for him, and by the Sunday morning, high-temperatured and
-semi-conscious, he lay in his bed with a perilously slender hold upon
-life.
-
-M. le Patron had been aware of Wynne’s intention to depart, and had been
-wishful of retaining his services. Without Wynne it would be impossible
-for an honest man to display in his window the legend “English spoken,”
-an announcement which stimulated trade among foreigners.
-
-Accordingly he put himself to the trouble of engaging a doctor, whose
-injunctions in regard to the treatment of the invalid he very faithfully
-followed. It should be stated that he was no less faithful in recording
-the out-of-pocket expenses incurred, which at the close of a six weeks’
-illness were presented to Wynne in the manner of a debt.
-
-“It will now be necessary that you shall remain until this sum is
-restored to me,” he said. “I am generous not to have increased the
-liability, for times were many when it seemed that I had incurred upon
-myself the cost of a burial.”
-
-Wynne reckoned that the least time in which he could reasonably hope to
-clear the score would be from three to four months, and raised his voice
-in protest.
-
-“But my career, monsieur—what will become of my career?”
-
-Money is one of the few things a Frenchman takes seriously; in nearly
-all other matters he is possessed of an enchanting elasticity. Wynne’s
-lamentations were heard without sympathy.
-
-“The debt must be discharged,” said M. le Patron.
-
-So once more Wynne donned his evening clothes with the break of day,
-once more a serviette swung from the bend of his arm.
-
-Strange to say menial service did not break his spirit or lessen his
-conceit. There are certain compensations in the life of a waiter if he
-be an observant fellow. Many and various are the types in which he comes
-into contact, and there is no surer way of fathoming the character of
-man than is afforded by watching him at his meat.
-
-To a certain extent Wynne took a pride in his waiting, and made an
-especial study of the craft. It amused him to “bank” his corners
-perilously with a pile of plates on his hand; it amused him to whip off
-the cover of an omelette and introduce it most exquisitely to its future
-consumer; it amused him to theorise on a customer’s likely choice of
-wine, and to suggest the vintage as he handed the card. But most of all
-it amused him to reflect that he, Wynne Rendall, was a waiter. Not for
-an instant did it occur to him that, up to this point, his achievements
-had not merited his occupation of a more illustrious position. In the
-back of his head was a comfortable assurance that he was a very
-important and valuable person, and this being so, that it was
-exceedingly droll for him to minister to the wants of the vulgar-minded.
-
-He acquired the habit of jotting down his daily thoughts on odd scraps
-of paper as he lay in bed at night, and some of these would have made
-good reading had they been preserved. Also they would have served to
-show very clearly the streak of egoism which outcropped his entire
-personality. Occasionally he flew to verse of a style and metre very
-much his own.
-
-Here is an example:
-
- “Garçon!”
- In black and white I serve their bellies’ need,
- Paid with a frown, a curse, a penny in the franc.
- Will they thank
- Me with a smile, when, playing on my reed,
- I bid them hear, and from my cathedra
- Their silly loves and lusts, dull thoughts and empty creed,
- In black and white I show them as they are?
-
-The verse in itself has few merits, but it afforded him a sense of
-luxury to produce such lines. He felt as a king might feel who lay
-hidden in a hovel, conscious of greatness in little places.
-
-To his brother waiters Wynne was ever remote and a shade cynical. He
-laughed at, but never with them, and affected a tolerant attitude which
-they found far from endearing. Occasionally one of the sturdier would
-attempt to bully him, but in this would seldom prosper. A Frenchman, as
-a rule, bullies with his tongue rather than his hands, and Wynne’s
-tongue was ever ready with a lightning counterstroke. These passages
-were in some respects a repetition of the old schoolday affairs, and
-since he never forgot a lesson he was well armed to defend himself.
-
-And so the weeks dragged into months and the debt gradually diminished.
-
-
- X
-
-One bright spring morning, some two years after his arrival in Paris,
-Wynne received a surprise. A broad-shouldered figure came under the
-shadow of the awning and seated himself at one of the small round
-tables.
-
-“It’s Uncle Clem!” gasped Wynne to himself. He straightened his
-waistcoat and went outside.
-
-“M’sieur!” he said.
-
-“Un bock,” came the reply.
-
-Unrecognized, Wynne retired and returned a moment later with a glass
-tankard which he set upon the table.
-
-“Beau temps, m’sieur!”
-
-“Ah, oui!”
-
-“Just such another day as the one we spent in Richmond Park together.”
-
-The big Englishman turned his head and raised his eyes sharply.
-
-“Good Gad! It’s the Seeker!” he exclaimed. His hand shot out, enveloped
-Wynne’s, and wrung it furiously. “Sit down! What the devil are you up
-to?”
-
-“Waiting,” Wynne smiled; “but I haven’t given up hope.”
-
-“Splendid—and this is fine”—he tweaked the apron. “Serious?”
-
-“Oh, very.”
-
-“A man now, eh?”
-
-“Something of the kind.”
-
-“Fine! though why the hell you couldn’t let us know what had become of
-you—”
-
-“Touch of pride, Uncle Clem. I neither wanted to please my people nor
-disappoint you.”
-
-“Ah, now, now, now! None of that—none of it. They wouldn’t gloat and I
-might have helped.”
-
-Wynne seated himself thoughtfully.
-
-“Yes, I think that’s true; but I wonder if you believe me when I say
-that never once has it crossed my mind as a way out of the difficulty.
-When I left home I left finally, not experimentally. If my father were
-to see me as I am now he would say I had slipped down hill, but I
-haven’t—I haven’t. Downhill I may have gone with a bit of rush, but I’m
-gathering impetus all the time, getting up weigh for the climb ahead.
-You see that, don’t you? This is all to the good, isn’t it?”
-
-There was an honest, genuine sincerity in the way he spoke.
-
-“Every time. All to the good. I should say it is. Hullo! who the devil
-is this?”
-
-“This” was M. le Patron, highly incensed at the sight of one of his
-waiters sitting at a table.
-
-“Ça fait rien,” began Uncle Clem. Then to Wynne, “Oh, you tell him it’s
-all right; tell him I’m your uncle—say you’re coming out for the
-afternoon. Here’s ten francs. Get your hat, and shove that damned dicky
-in your pocket. Tell the old fool he’s a good fellah and to go to the
-devil.”
-
-A certain amount of foregoing advices were translated, and M. le Patron,
-placated by the ten-franc note, granted Wynne leave of absence and
-conversed affably with Uncle Clem while Wynne mounted the stairs and
-changed his coat.
-
-“Come on,” said Uncle Clem. “Let’s get somewhere where we can talk.”
-
-He hailed a fiacre and they drove to the Bois de Boulogne. Here they
-alighted, and sprawled upon the grass beneath a tree.
-
-“Now let’s have the story from the word Go.”
-
-So Wynne wound himself up and reeled off all his experiences in the
-unfriendly city. Once or twice during the recital Uncle Clem frowned,
-and once or twice looked at his nephew in some perplexity, but in the
-main he nodded encouragement or gave little ejaculations of praise.
-
-“Plucky enough,” he remarked at the close.
-
-“I wonder sometimes. Is it plucky merely to fight for existence?”
-
-“Did you merely fight for existence—was there no impulse behind it
-all?”
-
-“Yes, the impulse to do and to know has helped me over the stonier
-parts.”
-
-“The painting was not a success, eh?”
-
-“It isn’t my medium.”
-
-“Have you found out what is?”
-
-The question was hard to answer. It would sound futile to reply,
-“Writing,” when one had but a few occasional jottings on the back of
-envelopes to substantiate the claim.
-
-“I haven’t had much time,” said Wynne, ruefully.
-
-“Of course not. After all, the medium doesn’t matter—it’s the motive
-that counts. Have you determined on your motive?”
-
-“I have learnt enough to show people what they are.”
-
-“Then don’t. That’s a cynic’s task, not an artist’s.”
-
-“Sometimes I think that one is but another name for the other.”
-
-“Not it. An artist shows people what they might be.”
-
-“Yet many have climbed to the peaks” (he was too self-conscious and
-diffident, with added years, to say the Purple Patch) “by holding up a
-mirror.”
-
-Uncle Clem shook his head.
-
-“A mirror should only reflect beautiful folk,” he replied. “There are
-better things than to be a man with a camera.”
-
-“I sometimes wonder if there are.”
-
-“Don’t wonder. Beauty is not to be found by sorting out dustbins. Beauty
-is in the woods, Wynne. Listen! You can hear the leaves in the tree
-above us whispering of her, and the little waves in the pool yonder, are
-leaping up lest they should miss her as she passes by. Can’t you feel
-the wonder of her everywhere, now in the spring, when she leaps splendid
-from her winter hiding? D’y’know, when April’s here I throw open my
-window and look up into the blue and then I see her riding on a cloud.
-You know the kind of cloud—the great white sort, which brings the
-summer from the seas. Ha! Yes, and I shout my homage as I brush my hair,
-and sometimes my poor man Parsons thinks I’m cracked. But what’s the
-matter if she smiles—for she’s a smiling lady if ever there was one,
-and her breath is like a breeze which is filtered through a copse of
-violets.”
-
-“Oh Lord, you are just the same old Uncle Clem as ever,” laughed Wynne.
-
-“Damn your eyes,” came the colloquial rejoinder—“if you’re not
-patronizing me!”
-
-“Not I. Believe me, I wouldn’t have you different, but perhaps I’ve
-changed a bit, and these dream pictures aren’t so real as they were.”
-
-“Then make ’em real—they’re worth it.”
-
-Wynne hesitated, then said:
-
-“I’m beginning to see the world as it is, and it doesn’t look like that
-any longer. I see it as a vast machine built up of cranks and gears, and
-bolts and cogs—some odd, but mostly even. A thing of wheels and
-reciprocal activity, for ever revolving and for ever returning to the
-point from which it started. It’s hard to believe in fairies when one
-thinks like that.”
-
-“Then don’t think like that, or, if you do, think of the energy that
-moves the machine—that’s where the mystery and the essence lie. The
-wheels are nothing—it is the power which drives ’em that counts. Why,
-heavens above! that should be the task for you, and such as you—to find
-and refine the essence, to know and increase the power. For God’s sake
-don’t scorn a thing because it goes round, but give it a push that it
-may revolve faster. That’s the job! and a fine job too. It’s easy to
-acquire cheap fame by jeering at a man because he goes to bed at night
-and gets up in the morning—easy—but no good. Give him something to get
-up early for and sleep the better for; that’s the way to earn your own
-repose.”
-
-“And you were the man who first showed me a satyr,” said Wynne.
-
-“And I was the man who told you of the Purple Patch,” came the reply.
-
-“I know, and I shall get there in the end.”
-
-“But not by being of the clever ones. They sit on the lower slopes. They
-bark—they don’t sing.”
-
-“Up against intellect now?”
-
-“I’m against obvious intellect all the time, because it’s perishable.
-Look here, I may not make myself clear, but of this I am sure—a great
-man is not great because he is clever, but he is clever because he is
-great. The cleverness of the clever is merely an irritant. For a season
-it may tickle the public palate, but it will never endure.”
-
-“And how does a man become great?”
-
-“By the strength of his ideals. Ideals never perish because they are
-never wholly realized—besides, they spring from other causes.”
-
-“And what is the fountain of ideals?”
-
-“Feeling—human feeling. Don’t you know that—yet?” He turned a
-penetrating glance on his nephew. “Never been in love?”
-
-Wynne coloured slightly.
-
-“No,” he replied, “I’ve never been in love.”
-
-“Then be in love.”
-
-“But that’s rather—”
-
-“No it ain’t. You must be in love—it’s God’s great education to
-mankind. A man knows nothing of himself, or of anything else, unless he
-is a lover. Happy—wretched—sacred or profane—love is the mighty
-teacher. What the devil d’you mean by never having been in love?”
-
-Wynne laughed. “Couldn’t I ask the same question of you?” he asked.
-
-“No, you couldn’t, for I always am. Ah, I may not be married—and that
-is a great blessing for some poor dear unknown—but I’m always in love.
-Sometimes it’s a girl with whom I have never exchanged a word, sometimes
-a dead queen or a goddess of ancient times, and sometimes in silly,
-sordid ways which lonely men will follow. But the spark of love that is,
-or the spark of a love that was, I keep for ever burning. What sort of
-life do you imagine mine would be without it?”
-
-“Isn’t there a difference,” said Wynne. “You’re not a striver—you are
-content—”
-
-“Yes, I’m a loafer—a dilettante—who whistles his song of praise in the
-country lanes—but—”
-
-“The country lanes are the lover’s lanes; there is no time for love in
-the great highways. How does the line go? ‘He travels fastest who
-travels alone.’”
-
-Uncle Clem rose and, stretching out a hand, pulled Wynne to his feet.
-
-“He may travel fast,” he said, “but he don’t get so far. Come on! What
-do you think—lunch chez Fouquet?”
-
-They made a very excellent déjeuner at the pleasant little restaurant
-under the shadow of the Arc de Triomphe, and when it was over, and Uncle
-Clem had produced two delicate Havana cheroots, the conversation turned
-to Wynne’s future.
-
-“You’ve done enough of this waiting business,” he said. “Better come
-back with me at the end of the week.”
-
-“Sorry,” said Wynne, “but it won’t run to it yet.”
-
-“Well, I’m your uncle—so that’s that, ain’t it?”
-
-“It’s that as far as the relationship goes, but no farther.”
-
-“D’you mean you won’t be helped?”
-
-“Yes, but it doesn’t mean I’m not grateful.”
-
-“But look here—”
-
-“Don’t make me,” pleaded Wynne. “It would be so easy that way.”
-
-“But it’s all nonsense. You’ve proved your mettle—no harm relaxing a
-trifle.”
-
-“I have proved my mettle to the extent of being a waiter,” said Wynne,
-“and that isn’t as far as I want my mettle to carry me.”
-
-“You might be here for years.”
-
-“Perhaps. It will be my fault if I am. I have to prove my right to
-climb. Help would disprove it.”
-
-“’Pon my soul I admire your pluck.”
-
-“It’s all you do admire, isn’t it?”
-
-“Ah, get away with you! I talk a lot, that’s all; but I’ve a mighty
-strong conviction that you’ll do.”
-
-“I’ll do _and_ do,” said Wynne. “Maybe you won’t approve, but I hope you
-will.”
-
-“I hope so, and believe so—for the elements are yours—but I shan’t
-tell you so if I don’t.”
-
-With which somewhat cryptic remark they parted. Wynne had not gone very
-far down the street, however, before he was overtaken by a somewhat
-breathless Uncle Clem, who said:
-
-“But, for God’s sake, fall in love if you can.”
-
-
-
-
- PART FOUR
- THE PEN AND THE BOARDS
-
-
- I
-
-The manner of Wynne’s return to England was fortuitous. It resulted from
-the remark of a chance customer at the little restaurant.
-
-“I wish to heaven you’d come right down to one of my rehearsals, young
-man, and show the Gordam idiot I’ve engaged how a waiter waits.”
-
-The speaker was a Cockney impresario who had come to Paris to collect a
-few French revue artistes for a scene in a London production.
-
-“I’ll come and play the part if you like,” replied Wynne.
-
-The little man scrutinized him closely.
-
-“Some idea!” he ejaculated (he had a habit of employing American
-expressions). “But could you realize your own personality?—that’s the
-point.”
-
-“Good God! you don’t imagine this is my personality,” came the reply.
-“This is as much a performance as any of Sarah Bernhardt’s.”
-
-“Durn me, but I believe you.”
-
-As a result Wynne took the evening off without permission, and made his
-first acquaintance with the histrionic art. Being in no way affected
-with nervousness he did not attempt to do otherwise than portray a
-waiter as a waiter actually is. The producer acclaimed the performance
-with delight. He sacked the other probationer, and gave Wynne a contract
-for two months at a salary of two pounds five shillings a week.
-
-“If I am to come with you I shall want five pounds down to discharge a
-debt,” said Wynne.
-
-The impresario grumbled somewhat, but since he was paying thirty
-shillings a week less than he had anticipated, and was getting a vastly
-superior article, he finally agreed.
-
-So Wynne signed the contract, pocketed the notes, and went to break the
-news to his employer.
-
-M. le Patron was not stinting in the matter of abuse. He condemned Wynne
-very heartily for lack of devotion to his welfare, upbraided himself for
-misplaced generosity, offered him an increased wage to remain, and
-finally—protest proving useless—shook hands and wished him every kind
-of good fortune.
-
-Four days later found the little company of players waiting for the
-outgoing train at the Gare du Nord. To Wynne there was something
-tremendously portentous in the moment. To find seclusion for his
-thoughts he walked to the extreme end of the platform, where it sloped
-down to the line, and here, to the unlistening ears of a great hanging
-water-pipe, he bade farewell to the Unfriendly City.
-
-“One of these days I shall return,” he spoke aloud; “one of these days
-you will stretch out your hands to welcome me.”
-
-And the little Cockney impresario who had followed him, fearful lest he
-should try to escape with the five pounds, touched his shoulder, and
-said:
-
-“Studying your part, son?”
-
-“Always,” came the answer.
-
-
- II
-
-They arrived in London about half-past six the same evening, and Wynne
-could not help smiling as he noticed how all the good people were
-hurrying homeward from their work as though their lives depended upon
-expedition. As he came from the station he observed how they fought for
-places on the omnibuses, and jostled down the steps to the tube
-stations.
-
-In Paris one is never conscious of that soundless siren which bids
-mankind close the ledger and lock the office door. The Parisian does not
-appear to be in any immediate hurry when work is over. He stays awhile
-to converse with a friend, or takes his _petit verre_ under the shade of
-a café awning.
-
-Wynne reflected that the English must be a very virtuous race to exert
-so much energy to arrive home. He recognized that the old goddess of
-punctuality was still at work, and that the popular craving to be at a
-certain place at a certain time, which had galled him so much as a boy,
-was no false imagination.
-
-“They are still in a hurry—still tugged along by their watch-springs,”
-he thought.
-
-As he watched the tide of hastening humanity he became suddenly aware
-that he was glad that it should be so—glad for a personal reason.
-
-Routine which formed so national a characteristic argued a nation whose
-opinions, once formed, would endure.
-
-To be accepted by such a people would mean to inherit an imperishable
-greatness.
-
-“Presently,” he thought, “these people will accept me as essential to
-their lives. I shall be as necessary to them as the 8.40 from Sydenham.
-They will no more miss me than they would miss their breakfasts.”
-
-At this point the little impresario once more broke in upon his
-reflections.
-
-“Ten o’clock rehearsal tomorrow,” he said. Then with severity, slightly
-diluted with humour, “No slipping off, mind. Feel I ought to keep an eye
-on you till that debt’s wiped off.”
-
-It is hard for any one to maintain glorious views as to the future while
-the present holds a doubt as to his probity in the matter of a
-five-pound note.
-
-For the second time in his life Wynne occupied the bedroom in the little
-Villers Street hotel. The good lady proprietress said she really did not
-remember if he had stayed there before or not, but she “dared say” he
-had. It was the sight of apparently the same uncooked sirloin surrounded
-by apparently the same tomatoes which had lured Wynne back to the little
-eating-house.
-
-At dinner he conversed with the waiter upon technical subjects, and gave
-his views upon perfection in the art of waiting. The worthy fellow to
-whom these were addressed was not greatly interested however. He was
-glad to converse with any one skilled in his native tongue, but a long
-sojourn in the British Isles had given him taste for a meatier
-conversational diet, and he preferred the remarks of two men at another
-table who exchanged views relative to Aston Villa’s chances in the Cup
-Tie.
-
-In consequence Wynne was left to his own thoughts, which, on this
-particular night, he found both pleasant and companionable. It was good
-to feel that at last he would be earning a livelihood by means of an
-Art, and a good Art too. Not so good, perhaps, but that it might not be
-a great deal better. In the few rehearsals he had already attended he
-had noted some glaring conventions and very grave stupidities, which he
-vowed in the future he would eradicate. The position of producer—a
-calling of which hitherto he had hardly been aware—suggested, of a
-sudden, illimitable possibilities.
-
-The producer was the man with the palette and brushes, and the artistes
-were merely tubes of colour, to be applied how and where they would give
-the best result. There was no end to what a producer might achieve, and
-perhaps no better medium for conveying ideas to the public mind than
-through the stage.
-
-And just as Wynne had said, nearly two years before, “I must learn this
-trade of painting,” he now determined to master the art of acting in all
-its variations.
-
-“But I must write, too,” he thought, “and read and work all the time.”
-
-He passed a hand across his forehead and exhaled noisily. Great are the
-responsibilities which a man will take upon his shoulders!
-
-
- III
-
-At the outset of his career as an actor Wynne found much to disappoint
-him. He learnt that brains and application do not necessarily result in
-stage success.
-
-Among all the actors he met it was all too often the case that the most
-intelligent were the least successful. Personality and notoriety
-outweighed intellect. Even the most egregious ass, provided he was
-representative of a certain type, prospered exceedingly, while the
-really clever ones languished in the understudy room or formed
-unspeaking props to hang clothes upon.
-
-A man needs to be on the stage some while before he can appreciate that
-casting and the box office are the chief considerations in a producer’s
-mind. It is easier and more satisfactory to engage a fool to play a fool
-than to ask a wise man to turn his wisdom to folly. Also it is a shrewd
-business stroke to give the public some very rapturous feminine vision
-to behold rather than give the part to some lady whose brain has a
-greater claim to admiration than her features. The world forgives
-stupidity when offset by loveliness—or even by a hint of subtle
-scandal—but a very high standard of intellectual perfection is required
-before the world will ignore a youth which has passed.
-
-Taking these matters into consideration, Wynne was constrained to
-believe that if theatre-goers were blind, and men gave up talking of
-matters which concerned them not, there would be an immediate demand for
-a class of actors, and particularly actresses, of a far higher mental
-quality than heretofore.
-
-Regarding acting as an Art he had more admiration for the surviving
-members of the old school, who handed over their lines with an
-assumption of great importance, than he entertained for the scions of
-the new.
-
-“You, at least, do something,” he observed to one old fellow, in a drama
-company of which he had become a member. “You do something, and do it
-deliberately.”
-
-“That’s so, my boy—that’s so,” came the mightily satisfied endorsement.
-
-“These moderns do nothing but realize their own ineffability.”
-
-“It’s true—it’s too true!”
-
-“And of course the worst of it is what you do is utterly
-useless—utterly false—and utterly wrong—”
-
-“Eh?” A stick of grease-paint fell to the floor.
-
-“Whereas what they fail to do is, in the general sense, absolutely
-right.”
-
-Remarks of this kind do not make for popularity. This, however, did not
-concern Wynne in the least. He had acquired the habit of talking rather
-less than he was used to do. The thoughts and convictions which at one
-time had bubbled to the surface he now mentally noted and preserved. He
-felt, in the pride of his egoism, that it was not wise to give away his
-ideas in conversation to the more or less trivial people with whom he
-came into touch.
-
-It was otherwise when one of the more successful members of the company
-deigned to exchange a few remarks, for then he would bring all his
-mental batteries to work with a view to prove to them how vastly
-inferior they actually were.
-
-One or two engagements were lost through the exercise of this habit, and
-several straitened and penniless periods resulted. Twice in three years
-Wynne left the stage, but from circumstance or inclination gravitated
-back again. He was always able to earn two pounds to two pounds ten a
-week playing small character parts, and if his attitude had been a shade
-more congenial it is probable he would have done still better.
-
-As a character actor he was singularly faultless and singularly
-conscientious. He possessed a remarkable facility for submerging his own
-personality and throwing off tiny portraits of different types, which
-were recognizable to the minutest detail. In the performance of these he
-took special pride, but if the producer interfered or made any
-suggestions he was truculent to a degree, and fought for his rendering
-with tiresome constancy.
-
-“It isn’t as if your suggestion would be in the least improving,
-and—good God!—if I am not to be trusted alone with eight lines, why on
-earth engage me?”
-
-This remark was fired at a super-eminent producer before an entire West
-End company, and brought back from the black void of the auditorium:
-
-“Would you please draw a fortnight’s salary from the business manager,
-Mr. Rendall, and return your contract?”
-
-He left the theatre straight away, and did not attempt to draw the
-salary. In the sunshine outside he was overtaken with a masterful desire
-to cry:
-
-“They shan’t lead me—they shan’t! they shan’t!”
-
-It was the wail of a little boy rather than of a man who fain would be a
-king.
-
-He returned to his room in Endell Street and flung himself face downward
-on the bed, where he lay with heaving shoulders for a long, long while.
-Presently he turned round and sat bolt upright.
-
-“Everybody is against me, and I’m against everybody.”
-
-On the table before him was a heap of books and a pile of papers, odd
-jottings, queer little articles, scraps of poetry written in the
-after-theatre hours. With a sudden fury he kicked at the table-leg and
-sent them tumbling and fluttering to the floor.
-
-“Why do I hate the world when I want to exalt it? Oh, God—God—God!
-Damn this room! Oh, I’m lonely, I am so—so horribly lonely!”
-
-He went and stood in the corner, rested his head on the faded wallpaper,
-and sniffed:
-
-“I’m lonely—lonely—lonely—lonely—lonely! I don’t think I’m very
-strong—I think I’m ill—ill and lonely—lonely and ill—very ill, and
-very lonely!”
-
-Then suddenly he burst out laughing:
-
-“Fool!—idiot!—I’m all right! Papers all over the place. Pick ’em up.
-What’s all this rot about?” He read a few lines in his own handwriting:
-“A good sort is the type of man with whom we trust our sisters—a bad
-sort is the type of man with whom our sisters trust themselves!’
-Epigram! Too long! ‘A sport is a man who says Cherio, and carries his
-brains in a cigarette case.’ Necktie would be better. Oh! what’s the
-good of writing this rubbish? What am I going to do now?”
-
-He snatched a hat and went out. Presently he found himself in Pen and
-Ink Square, with the ceaseless grumble of the news-producing engines
-throbbing in the air. Before him was a doorway over which was written
-“_The Oracle_.” He knew “_The Oracle_” for a democratic organ which
-shrieked obscenely at the politics and morals of the country—under the
-guise of seeking to purify, it contrived to include in its columns some
-very prurient matter, without which its sales would have been even
-smaller than they were.
-
-Wynne walked straight in, mounted some stairs, and beholding a door
-labelled “Editor—Private,” entered without knocking.
-
-“Who the devil are you?” said a stout man sitting before a roll-top
-desk.
-
-“You wouldn’t know if I told you,” replied Wynne. “I’m nobody yet.”
-
-“What d’you want?”
-
-“Thought I’d write some articles for you.”
-
-“Think again—outside!”
-
-“Might not get in so easily another time.”
-
-“Well, get out now, then.”
-
-“That’s very foolish. How d’you know I may not be bringing you a
-fortune?”
-
-“I’m prepared to take the risk.”
-
-“Then take a smaller one, and give me a subject to write you a sample
-about.”
-
-“Write about damn nuisances,” said the editor.
-
-“Give me a sheet of paper.”
-
-“Look here! Are you going to get out?”
-
-“No. You told me to write about damn nuisances, and I’m going to do it.”
-
-At this the editor leant back in his chair and said:
-
-“Well, if you haven’t a profound cheek—”
-
-Realizing the opening, Wynne seated himself before a vacant table and
-took up a pen.
-
-“Paper and silence,” he said, “are the ingredients required, and you
-shall have your article in an hour’s time.”
-
-Being a man of some humour the editor relaxed, and laughed exuberantly.
-
-“Go to it then,” he said. “I’m off to tea, and I shall clear you out
-when I come back.”
-
-“You’ll do nothing of the kind. I’ll be on the permanent staff by
-nightfall.”
-
-In writing upon damn nuisances Wynne took for his subject such widely
-divergent national symbols as the Albert Memorial and _The Oracle_. Of
-the two _The Oracle_ fared worst, and came in for the most complete
-defamation in its heartily criticized career. The article was
-iconoclastic, spirited and intensely funny. The entire office staff read
-it, and the editor volunteered to take Wynne out and make him drunk then
-and there. This offer Wynne declined, but he accepted the post of a
-casual article writer at a penny a line, and returned home with a
-greater feeling of satisfaction than he had known for some time.
-
-The satisfaction, however, was short-lived, for in a very little while
-he was heartily ashamed of subscribing his signature to scurrilous
-paragraphs deprecating the private lives of parsons, and hinting darkly
-at dirty doings in Downing Street.
-
-He perceived that by such means greatness was not to be achieved, and
-sought to ease his conscience by spending nearly all his earnings on
-reputable books, and most of his spare time in the reading-room at the
-British Museum. In the matter of food he was most provident, scarcely,
-if ever, standing himself a good meal. He acquired the habit of munching
-chocolate and of making tea at all hours of the day and night. By this
-means, although he staved off actual hunger, he was never properly
-satisfied, and his physical side became ill-nourished and gaunt. The
-hours he kept were as irregular as could well be conceived, and he
-frequently worked all night without a thought of going to bed.
-
-
- IV
-
-The days of his employment on the staff of _The Oracle_ were far from
-happy, and the material he was asked to write soured his style and
-embittered his outlook. Of this circumstance he was painfully aware, and
-tried to combat it by writing of simple, gentle matters for his own
-education. But the canker of cynicism overran and corrupted his better
-thoughts like deadly nightshade twining in the brambles of a hedgerow.
-
-Always his own severest critic, he would tear up the sheets of
-close-written manuscript and scatter them over the room, stamp his feet
-or throw up the window and hurl imprecation at the dying night.
-
-Sometimes he sent articles or stories to the press, but from them he
-received no encouragement. _The Oracle_ had an unsavoury reputation in
-Fleet Street, and no self-respecting editor desired to employ the
-journalists who wrote for this vicious little rag.
-
-After his uncompromising attitude at their first meeting, the editor of
-_The Oracle_ made a great deal of Wynne, and besought him to sign a
-binding contract.
-
-“I won’t sign anything,” Wynne replied.
-
-“I’ll give you a salary of seven pounds a week if you do.”
-
-“I wouldn’t for seventy.”
-
-“You’ll think better of it later on.”
-
-“Later on I shall wish to God I had never written for you at all. It
-isn’t a thing to be proud of.”
-
-At this the editor laughed and clapped him on the back.
-
-“I’ve been wanting some one like you for years,” he cried.
-
-“You’ll be wanting some one like me again before long,” came the answer.
-
-Strange to say, the stout man did not resent Wynne’s attitude, neither
-did he understand it. He regarded this queer, emaciated boy as an
-agreeable oddity, and allowed him to say whatever he liked. Wynne was
-most valuable to _The Oracle_, for his articles were infinitely more
-educated and infinitely more stinging than any of the other writers’. As
-a direct result they caused a corresponding increase of irritation and a
-corresponding improvement in sales.
-
-Whenever there was a hint of scandal, or any disreputable suggestion in
-regard to some notable personage, Wynne was put on the track, with
-_carte noire_ to give the affair the greatest possible publicity. In the
-pursuance of this degrading journalese of detection and exposure he
-disclosed unexpected moral considerations. When he did not consider the
-person to be attacked merited rough handling he would resolutely decline
-to associate himself in any way with the campaign. Entreaties and
-protests were alike incapable of moving him. He would set his mouth, and
-refuse, and fly into a towering fury with the editor when he suggested:
-
-“Very well, then, Harbutt must do it.”
-
-“Isn’t there enough beastliness in the world without seeking it where it
-doesn’t exist?” cried Wynne. “I’ll burn this damn building to the ground
-one of these days.”
-
-He did not actually put this threat into practice, but did the next best
-thing. A dispute had arisen in regard to some sordid disclosures which
-the editor desired to make, and Wynne had proved beyond dispute that
-there was no foundation for the charges. The editor, however, decided
-that the story was too good to lose, and accordingly had it inserted,
-with a thin veil drawn over the identity of the persons concerned.
-
-“All right,” said Wynne, after he had seen a copy. “You’re going through
-the hoops for this.”
-
-An opportunity arose a short while after, and Wynne seized it without
-scruple.
-
-It was the habit of the paper to reserve a column each month in which to
-set forth their ideals and intentions. Sometimes one and sometimes
-another of the writers undertook this work. As a rule it was the last
-paragraph to be inserted, and depended for its length upon the available
-space.
-
-The sub-editor, who was also proof-reader, was not a conscientious man,
-and frequently delegated his duties to subordinates.
-
-“It’s all plain sailing,” he said to Wynne. “Write about four hundred
-words, and sling it over to the compositor. I’m meeting a friend or two
-tonight.”
-
-With that he went out, and Wynne, with a peculiar smile, wrote the
-article, and very faithfully described the motives which inspired the
-paper.
-
-“_The Oracle_,” he wrote, “is the Mungo of the London Press—a sniffing
-wretch for ever scrabbling garbage in the national refuse heaps.”
-
-There was a good deal more in this style, and the compositor, while
-setting up the type, was not a little disturbed in mind.
-
-“Is this to be printed?” he asked Wynne.
-
-“Certainly.”
-
-“Danged if I can see what the idea is.”
-
-“Imagine the sales, and go ahead.”
-
-The entire issue had to be destroyed, but one or two copies escaped from
-the printer’s hands, and a rival flew to hilarious headlines about it.
-
-To the amazement of every one Wynne marched into the office the morning
-after he had perpetrated the offence.
-
-“What the hell is the idea?” shouted the editor. “What the hell do you
-think you’re doing?”
-
-“Getting even with my conscience,” replied Wynne.
-
-He looked very frail and insignificant with the semi-circle of scarlet,
-inflamed countenances and threatening fists besetting him.
-
-“If you don’t want to be killed, take your blasted conscience out of
-here.”
-
-He did, but with no great speed, although many were the offers of
-violence made as he passed out.
-
-
- V
-
-On the Embankment Wynne apologized to God very sincerely for having
-debased his art. It was rather a pretty little prayer which he put up,
-and had a gentler tenor than his wonted expression. After it was
-finished he felt easier in mind, and comforted. But when he returned to
-his rooms the oppression of a great loneliness took command of his soul.
-Of late this feeling had dominated his thoughts not a little. He desired
-some one to whom he might confess his thoughts and fears, some one of
-the sympathetic intellect, who could smooth out the harsher creases of
-life’s cloak, and give companionable warmth to the solitary hours.
-
-No such friendships had come his way, and when he turned his thoughts
-more closely to the subject he could not imagine that he would be likely
-to happen upon such a one. Beyond the intermittent flashes of Uncle
-Clem’s society there had been no one with whom he could discuss his real
-feelings and emotions. Pride, and desire to excel, had kept him from
-seeking Uncle Clem when the mood of loneliness was upon him. He, as it
-were, saved up that friendship for the great days ahead. The few
-occasions when he had sought to quicken intimacy from acquaintance had
-invariably led to nothing. Once a young actor asked him to share an idle
-hour or two, and before they arrived at the end of the street stopped at
-the door of a public-house and invited him to enter.
-
-“Let’s get primed—what do you say?”
-
-And Wynne said, “Need we? I don’t drink for a hobby.”
-
-“Care for a game of pills?”
-
-“Not very much.”
-
-“Well, what _do_ you care about?”
-
-The suggestion that in order to be entertained one must either drink or
-play billiards made Wynne laugh, and since no man cares to have his more
-serious pleasures ridiculed, the young actor snorted, and left him to
-spend the rest of the evening alone.
-
-Possibly it was loneliness which directed Wynne once more to seek
-employment upon the stage. In the play in which he appeared he was given
-the part of a hot-potato man who was on the stage for only a few
-moments.
-
-To perfect the detail for this rôle he made the acquaintance of a real
-example of this calling, and spent many midnight hours talking with the
-old fellow and warming himself before the pleasant coke fire.
-
-Wynne discovered that there was a deal of philosophy to be gleaned in
-this manner. Thereafter he became well known to many of the strange,
-quiet men who feed the hungry in queer, out-of-the-way corners of the
-sleeping city.
-
-On Sundays he would go to Petticoat Lane, or pry into the private lives
-of the outcasts of Norfolk House. The East End fascinated him, with its
-mixture of old customs and new—its spice of adventure and savour of
-Orientalism. Many of the folk with whom he conversed were strangely
-illuminating. After an initial period of distrust and suspicion they
-would open out and disgorge some startling views on life and matters in
-general. They spoke of anarchy and crime and confinements as their more
-civilized brothers of the West spoke of the brand of cigarettes they
-preferred. The elemental side of these men’s natures, being so totally
-dissimilar from his own, made a profound impression upon Wynne. Their
-attitude toward women amazed and perplexed him. The phrase, “_my_
-woman,” with its solid, possessive, animal note, was original to the
-ears. It suggested an entirely different attitude from the one he had
-observed in France, the one so alive with thrill and volatile desire.
-
-“_My_ woman!” he repeated it over to himself as he plodded homeward
-through the dark streets. He said it experimentally with the same
-inflection that had been used—and yet to him it was only an inflection.
-He could not conceive a circumstance in which he would naturally stress
-the “my,” or would actually feel the possessive impulse to make it
-inevitable.
-
-“She’s _my_ woman,” the man had said, when telling his story—“_my_
-woman, d’y’hear?” Followed an oathy description of a chair and table
-fight, a beer bottle broken across a bedrail and used as a
-dagger—something, that was once a man, carried in the arms of a
-trustworthy few and hidden in a murky doorway a couple of streets
-distant.
-
-It was hard to imagine such a coming about at the dictates of a
-convention of sex. If a woman inclined to sin with another man, let
-her—what did it matter? Fidelity was of very little consequence. Common
-reason proved it to be a myth. Yet men committed murder that
-fidelity—physical fidelity—might be preserved. That’s what it amounted
-to. But did it? That possessive “my” argued a greater and more masterful
-motive—something beyond mere moral adherences.
-
-“_My_ woman!” Very perplexing!
-
-“But I suppose I would fight to the death for my ideals—whatever they
-may be.”
-
-With sudden force it struck Wynne that he should define his ideals, and
-know precisely at what he aimed. It was good for a man to be certain of
-those things for which he would be prepared to lay down his life.
-
-He set himself the task of writing down what his ideals actually were,
-and in so doing failed horribly. What he wrote was inconclusive and
-embryonic. To a reader it would have conveyed little or nothing. There
-was a hint of some ambition, but nothing more. It showed the target of
-his hopes in the pupal stage. The grammatical perfection with which he
-wrote only added melancholy to the failure.
-
-“My God!” exclaimed Wynne, “I can’t even write a specification of what I
-want to do.”
-
-
- VI
-
-The play in which Wynne figured as a hot-potato man was not a success,
-and there followed a period in which he found no work, and very
-considerable hardship. Then his fortunes turned a trifle, and to reward
-himself for all he had endured he took new rooms at the top of a house
-near Tottenham Court Road, and spent all his money buying furniture and
-queer odds and ends of brass and Oriental china. It was the first time
-he had indulged in the luxury of agreeable appointments, and it gave him
-tremendous pleasure. The furniture he bought was true to its period,
-though time and the worm had bitten deep beneath the blackened surfaces.
-He bought in the Caledonian Market or little known streets, and took a
-fierce pride in bartering for his prizes. These he would bring home upon
-his head, or, if their size defeated his powers, would push them before
-him on a greengrocer’s barrow. For pieces of _vertu_ he possessed a sure
-and infallible eye, and a remarkable sense for disposing them to the
-best advantage.
-
-On the mantelpiece of the attic sitting-room he achieved successfully
-what, years before, he had failed to do in his father’s home. A note of
-colour from a cracked Kin Lung bowl, a fillip of light from a battered
-copper kettle, a slanting pile of beautifully-bound books, and the thing
-was done.
-
-There was no struggle after effect, but the effect was there as if by
-nature—the right things had found their rightful abiding place.
-
-He found writing easier in these surroundings. Hitherto his eye had
-inevitably fallen upon some hideous object or picture, unthinkingly
-bought and disastrously disposed in relation to its neighbours—then his
-thoughts would travel away, lose the thread of their reasoning, or
-become involved in futile speculation upon other folks’ perverted
-tastes. But here it was different: here there were no disturbing
-influences, nothing but a pleasant, restful simplicity.
-
-Mrs. Mommet, the bed-shaker, who, for a very small wage, gave Wynne an
-equally small measure of time, did not share his high opinions of
-himself as a decorator.
-
-“I don’t know ’ow you can put up with the place,” she said, shaking her
-head sadly over the pail of dirty water which was her constant
-companion. “It gives me the creeps every time I comes into it. That ole
-table, y’know. Well, it _looks_ as if it was a ’undred years old.”
-
-“It’s a great deal more,” said Wynne.
-
-“There you are, y’see! Why you don’t git a nice cloth and cover it up
-beats me!”
-
-“Roundheads drank at that table,” said Wynne.
-
-“Fat-’eads, more like—nowhere for your knees or anything. And the
-walls, too! My ole man does a bit o’ paper-’anging to oblige in ’is
-spare time. I dessay ’e’d ’ang a piece for you, to oblige.”
-
-“He would oblige me very much by doing nothing of the kind.”
-
-“Thet’s silly—that is. No one can’t like plain walls when they can ’ave
-’em floral. Not so much as a picture anywhere! W’y don’t you pin up a
-few photos?”
-
-“Don’t possess any, and I—”
-
-“Well, if that’s all, I dessay I could give you a few. Liknesses, they’d
-be—not views. You could ’ave any one of my pore Minnie o’o was took.”
-
-Wynne did not want to offend the woman, but was forced to safeguard his
-own peace of mind.
-
-“You ought not to give them away in the circumstances,” he said.
-
-Fortunately Mrs. Mommet did not press the offer. She had some views to
-express in relation to “nice plush curtains,” which Wynne hastily
-discouraged.
-
-“Oh, well, you must please yourself, I s’pose. Gentlemen never do ’ave
-any taste, as the sayin’ is. Still, it’s no small wonder you look
-poorly, and yer face is as white as the under-side of a lemon sole.”
-
-The description was apt. Wynne’s features were certainly of a lifeless
-hue. The long hours, the poor food, and the never-ending mental activity
-had sapped a full measure of his youth. No one would have placed his age
-at twenty-three, yet twenty-three summers were all that he held to his
-credit. One might have guessed him nearer forty—and a none too hearty
-forty either. Only his eyes were young—young and greedily active—for
-ever assessing and assimilating, but this seemed to detract from, rather
-than add to, his youth.
-
-Yet despite his frailty and general suggestion of weakness, Wynne could,
-upon occasion, develop startling energy. He used his brain as the
-driving force which overcame his feebleness, and bade his muscles
-undertake tasks out of all proportion to their ability. On one occasion
-he carried an armchair, weighing nearly a hundredweight, for three
-miles, a task which a strong man might well have failed to accomplish.
-His power lay in the will to do, and a form of obstinate courage which
-defied all obstacles.
-
-“I am glad you said soul,” he said, “for I have long believed that to be
-the only thing that matters.”
-
-Mrs. Mommet shook her head.
-
-“I was talkin’ of fishmonger’s, not parson’s souls,” she replied; “but
-if you ask me, I should say firce look after the body, and the soul’ll
-look after itself. Same as the ole sayin’ ’bout the pennies and the
-poun’s. If you was to feed your body up a bit, ’stead o’ wastin’ money
-on ole cracked plates, books and whatnot, you’d be doing yerself more
-good, you would.”
-
-“Depends on the point of view.”
-
-“I know I can’t never do nothin’ if I neglect my bit o’ nourishment.”
-
-“Nor I, but you work with your body and I with my brain. That’s why we
-stock our larders with different fare. There’s mine yonder.” He tilted
-his head toward the crowded bookcases.
-
-“Lot o’ nonsense! Ole books!”
-
-“Don’t despise them, please.”
-
-“I don’t; but a book’s a thing for after dinner, not to make yer dinner
-off of, like you do. Wonder is you ’aven’t more pride in yerself.”
-
-“Pride?” He was quite startled.
-
-“A young feller like wot you are lettin’ ’imself go to pieces like the
-lilies in the field, or whatever the sayin’ is. ’Ow d’you s’pose you’ll
-ever take the fancy of a young woman lookin’ like you do? You wouldn’t
-never do it.”
-
-Wynne smiled. “Is it only the dressed ox which can go to the altar?” he
-asked.
-
-“I donno nothin’ ’bout dressed oxes, but I do know as any young woman of
-spirit looks for a man with a bit of blood in ’im. After all, nature’s
-nature, y’know, with Christian or ’eathen alike, and there’s no gettin’
-away from it.”
-
-“You should write a treatise on Eugenics,” said Wynne, and escaped to
-the solitude of his bedroom.
-
-
-
-
- PART FIVE
- EVE
-
-
- I
-
-During a rehearsal of a new play in which he was engaged Wynne noticed
-Eve Dalry. She was walking-on in the crowd, and did not seem of a piece
-with the other girls. When her scene was over she slipped away to a
-quiet corner and produced a book. Finding the required page, she shook
-her head as though to banish other considerations, seated herself on an
-upturned box, and began to read with great absorption.
-
-Partly from curiosity to see the title of the book Wynne moved toward
-her. Carlyle’s “Heroes and Hero Worship.” A queer choice for a girl to
-make, he thought, and wondered how much she understood. For awhile he
-stood behind her glancing at a paragraph here and there, and watching
-the careful way she turned over a page, then turned it back again to
-reread and reconsider some passage not wholly understood. He was unused
-to women who read so seriously, and, despite the semi-cynical smile at
-the corners of his mouth, her studiousness impressed him.
-
-Presently, impelled by a new and curious familiarity, he drew a long,
-tapered forefinger over the straight, thin parting in her hair. She
-looked up slowly, as though his action had been scarcely enough to
-distract her attention.
-
-“I like the shape of your head,” he found himself saying in reply to the
-query in her eyes, “it is the kind of vessel which is never empty. The
-square of your chin, too, is so very right. One seldom sees the two
-together.”
-
-She met the critical survey with equal candour.
-
-“I have been liking your head,” she said, “but not the chin. Its—”
-
-She drew a slanting line in the air.
-
-“I know,” he nodded; “but it’s not significant.”
-
-“I meant that—insignificant.”
-
-Wynne was not at his best when humour turned against him. His smile and
-his frown struck a balance.
-
-“I could quote the names of a dozen brilliant men who did not carry
-their strength or wit in the lower half of their faces, and illustrate
-my instances at the National Portrait Gallery.”
-
-“Are you brilliant?” There was no barb to the question.
-
-“It pleases me to think so.”
-
-“One wonders, then, why you are doing this little jobbery in a theatre.”
-
-“Yes, that’s reasonable enough. I wonder, too, sometimes. I suppose I
-was hungry when I took the engagement.”
-
-“This is not your real work, then?”
-
-“I hardly know what my real work is, but it is not in the market. In
-theory real work never should be in the market.”
-
- “‘And no one shall work for money
- And no one shall work for fame,’”
-
-quoted Eve.
-
-“Spare me from Kipling. It is so disheartening to find one’s views
-supported by quotations.”
-
-“I’m not so advanced as that. I’m rather proud of quotations—I look on
-them as medals for reading.”
-
-He made an intolerant gesture.
-
-“But no sane persons show their medals.”
-
-“While I’m young I had rather not be altogether sane.”
-
-“Good! I take back sanity. It’s the worst asset an artist can possess.”
-
-She looked at him with a faint, intricate smile.
-
-“You are easy to catch out,” she said.
-
-“Possibly. I don’t aspire to be a cricketer. Indeed, cricket stands for
-all I dislike most. Cricket is an Englishman’s notion of the proper
-conduct of life—a game with rules. If he resists seducing a friend’s
-wife it is because to do so is not cricket.”
-
-“Do you favour his doing so?”
-
-“Not I—but it depends on the mood and the man, and the attraction. I
-simply do not admit the existence of cricket in these matters.”
-
-“Do you know,” said Eve, “you seem to me to be expressing ideas and not
-thoughts. Tell me, what is your real work?”
-
-“I assume that one day I shall know, but I don’t know yet. If I were to
-say painting—writing—talking—acting—I should be equally right. I
-have searched the dictionaries in vain to find a word to describe
-myself. The verb ‘to lead’ is the nearest approach. I think, by nature,
-I am the centre of a circle—a circle that is even widening. Sounds
-absurd, doesn’t it?—to lead from the centre of a circle.”
-
-The conviction and frankness with which he discussed himself was
-remarkable, and, strangely enough, not offensive. He possessed a quality
-of magnetism which robbed his words of half their arrogance. Eve allowed
-her eyes to travel over him with calm interest. His clothes were
-careless and shabby, his collar too big, and his cuffs frayed; his tie
-seemed anywhere but in the right place. At the first glance she saw he
-was ill-nourished, and felt an immediate impulse to feed him up with
-possets and strong beef tea. Frailty excites kindly resolves from the
-generous-hearted. She found his features attractive, despite their
-irregularity, and his eyes appealed to her enormously. They were such
-plucky eyes, eyes that would look the world in the face unfalteringly
-and support with impertinent courage the wildest views which the mobile,
-cynical, and weak mouth might choose to utter.
-
-When anything pleased her, Eve laughed—not so much a laugh of amusement
-as a purr of satisfaction. The unusual appealed to her, and beyond all
-doubt Wynne Rendall was unusual. Hers were plucky eyes too. They rested
-frankly, and seemed to read the meanings of what they reflected. Eve had
-a broad forehead, straight brows, and clean-cut, clearly defined
-features. Her mouth was sweet and tolerant; to borrow from a painter’s
-terminology, it was a beautifully drawn mouth. One felt she would be
-very sure in all her dealings—analytic and purposeful. Hers was not a
-present-day face, but belonged rather to the period of the old
-Florentine Masters.
-
-For quite a while these two young people surveyed each other with calm
-appreciation, and presently Wynne broke the silence.
-
-“You are a new type to me,” he said—“a perplexing type. I’ve seen you
-on canvas, but never in the flesh. Something of Leonardo’s Lucretia! We
-might see more of each other, I think.”
-
-“Yes,” she said.
-
-He was about to speak again when the leading man came through a door in
-the canvas scene and moved toward them. In an instant Wynne pulled down
-the corners of his mouth pathetically.
-
-“Oh dear! I must go.”
-
-“Why? Your scene is a long way ahead.”
-
-“I know, but here’s K. G. If I stayed he might think I wanted to talk to
-him—and I don’t.”
-
-Eve understood the feeling very well. Those whose future is all to make
-are wary and resentful of patronage, and often needlessly shun the
-society of others more successful than themselves. None is more jealous
-of his pride than the climber.
-
-She allowed Wynne to depart unhindered, and presently the eminent K. G.
-came near enough to condescend a “Good morning.”
-
-“Been talking to young Rendall?” he queried.
-
-She nodded.
-
-“A queer boy—quite a clever actor—quite! A good sense of character!”
-
-“Very.”
-
-“Know him well?”
-
-“About five minutes.”
-
-“Oh, yes—yes. Sadly opinionated! Notice it?”
-
-“He has opinions, certainly.”
-
-“H’m! Never get on—people with too many views. He won’t learn—clever
-enough in himself, but won’t learn from others.”
-
-“I rather thought he had learnt a good deal from others.”
-
-“Oh no—most inaccessible.”
-
-“Does that mean he wouldn’t learn from you?” she inquired, very frankly.
-
-K. G. looked down in mild surprise. Young ladies who are “walking-on”
-should agree with and not interrogate those lofty beings whose salaries
-are paid by cheque. But this young lady ignored the principle, and
-seemed to expect an answer.
-
-“Yes,” he replied, very frankly. “Of course it’s his own affair if he
-cares to ignore the advice of—well—” Modesty forbade the mention of
-his own name, and he finished the sentence by a gesture.
-
-“Of course it is,” said Eve.
-
-K. G. frowned. The conversation was not proceeding on orthodox lines.
-
-“Still, as I say, young men of that sort do not get on.”
-
-“I can’t see why. Perhaps he thought you could teach him nothing.”
-
-It was the protective mother instinct compelled the words. The remark
-annoyed K. G. excessively. It was not, however, his habit to vent
-irritation upon a woman, even though she might be its original cause,
-consequently he attacked Wynne Rendall.
-
-“He is a fellow who wants a good kicking, and has never had it.”
-
-“A man always wants to kick what he cannot understand,” said Eve.
-
-To defend some one who is absent from the attacks of a third person is a
-sure basis upon which friendships are established. When Eve returned to
-her little bed-sitting-room after the rehearsal, Wynne Rendall occupied
-a large share of her thoughts.
-
-“I like him,” she said to herself. “He’s all wrong in all sorts of ways,
-but there’s something tremendous about him in spite of that—and I like
-him.”
-
-She fell to wondering how he had arrived at what he was, what queer
-turns of circumstance or inclination had aged the youth from him. With
-quickening sympathy she recalled his sunken cheeks, the nervous
-sensitive movements of his hands and head.
-
-“Looks as if he never had enough to eat. I’m sure he doesn’t eat
-enough.”
-
-Then she laughed, for in her own existence eating did not enter very
-largely. A salary of one pound one shilling per week does not admit of
-extravagant _menus_. A woman can keep the roses of her cheeks flowering
-upon very little. With a man it is different. A man, to be a man, must
-set his teeth in solid victuals, or nature denied will deny.
-
-She thought over her exchange with the leading man, and was glad she had
-stood up for Wynne. It offended her that a fat, luxurious fellow should
-say what he chose, and imagine himself immune from counter-attack on
-account of his position in the company. She would not have been at ease
-with her conscience if she had acted otherwise. In the circumstances Eve
-did not prosper well with her reading that night. “Heroes and Hero
-Worship” was cast aside to make room for other considerations.
-
-At the rehearsal next day it was with almost a proprietary interest she
-responded to Wynne’s flickering greeting.
-
-“You are making a reputation,” he said, and added, “by the easiest way.”
-
-“What way is that?”
-
-“Being frank with your superiors.”
-
-“Is it easy?”
-
-“Assuredly—if you have the courage. Most people are content to accept
-their superiors as being superior. Invert the principle—tell an
-accepted success you consider him an ass—and you create an immediate
-interest in yourself.”
-
-“It wasn’t my reason,” said Eve.
-
-“Wasn’t it?” He seemed quite surprised.
-
-“No. He annoyed me, and I showed him I was annoyed.”
-
-“You were sincere, then?”
-
-“Of course.”
-
-“How queer of you.”
-
-“Why queer?”
-
-“Oh, I don’t know. It seems so odd to be sincere with a man like that.
-Are you often sincere?”
-
-“Yes. Aren’t you?”
-
-“Inside I am. Been at the stage long?”
-
-“This is the beginning.”
-
-“The egg stage?”
-
-“Yes.”
-
-“Tell me, where do you live?”
-
-“A room—anywhere.”
-
-“You’ve no people, then?”
-
-“None to whom I matter—or who matter to me.”
-
-“I know. D’you know I was afraid you might have been rich and
-comfortable.”
-
-Eve fingered a piece of her dress and held it out.
-
-“Eight-three a yard, and made at home.”
-
-“There are rich women who disguise themselves.”
-
-“I am not one. I have king’s treasures, that is all.”
-
-“A row of books over your bed, h’m.”
-
-“That was clever,” she smiled.
-
-“I could guess the authors.”
-
-“Try.”
-
-“Meredith—Browning—Hardy—Wendell Holmes.”
-
-“Pretty good—especially Meredith.”
-
-“You mustn’t overdo Meredith—he is a cult, not an author. You’re
-intricate—with the ‘Diana’ courage, and that’s dangerous. If you care
-to borrow I have some books. Come and choose a few.”
-
-“May I? I should like that.”
-
-“Come tonight?”
-
-“It’s the first night of the play.”
-
-“I’d forgotten. Well”—with a sudden impulse—“why not after it is
-over?”
-
-“If you like.”
-
-He rubbed his chin with his long, sensitive fingers, and nodded
-approvingly.
-
-“You’d make a friend,” he said.
-
-He could say things very attractively when he chose. The remark was a
-compliment to Eve and her sex.
-
-
- II
-
-Wynne’s part ended with the first act, but he waited at the stage door
-till the close of the play. Presently Eve came out and joined him.
-
-Very small she looked wrapped in a long brown coat, with her hands
-tucked in the pockets. She wore a little close-fitting hat which
-accentuated the oval of her gravely piquant face.
-
-“Which way?” she asked.
-
-“Through Covent Garden, if we walk. Be jollier to walk, I think, don’t
-you?”
-
-He suddenly remembered when last he had put the same question, and
-almost flushed at the memory. Then, as now, he had been seeking a
-friend. He had been a long time finding one.
-
-“Yes, much,” said Eve. “I always walk back. I like it, and it saves the
-pennies.”
-
-“I like it, and try not to remember that it saves the pennies,” he
-remarked whimsically. “’Tisn’t bad being poor when one doesn’t mean to
-be poor for ever. I have tremendous beliefs that this is only a passing
-stage, haven’t you?”
-
-“A valley?”
-
-“Yes, which in passing through gives us the answer to all manner of whys
-and wherefores.”
-
-Eve nodded. “What a queer old street!” she said. “I haven’t been this
-way before.”
-
-“There’s a coffee stall at the corner where I buy provender; that’s why
-I brought you. There it is.”
-
-They stopped at the stall, with the proprietor of which Wynne seemed on
-excellent terms, and bought some hard-boiled eggs, “balls of chalk” as
-they are familiarly called.
-
-“A friend to every one that man is,” said Wynne as they proceeded on
-their way. “Does all manner of good turns to the queer folk whose
-business keeps ’em abroad late. He lent me three suppers once, at a time
-when I needed them badly.”
-
-From a glowing oven on wheels nearer his lodging they bought baked
-potatoes.
-
-“Put one in each pocket. Finest things in the world to keep your hands
-warm.” As she followed his advice he nodded encouragingly.
-
-“That’s the way. It’s a fire and a good dinner all in one. I’ve a very
-great regard for a baked potato; it’s the president of the republic of
-vegetables, as the hot pie is the dowager queen of confectionery.”
-
-“What do you call a hot pie?”
-
-“Just that! They used to be cooked in the streets in little portable
-ovens. Did you never meet a pieman?”
-
-“I don’t think so.”
-
-“Daresay not, for the last one died two years ago. A fine fellow he was.
-I went to his funeral.”
-
-“I’d love to have seen a real pieman. Didn’t Simple Simon meet one going
-to a fair?”
-
-“So it’s said.”
-
-“And now they’ve all gone for ever. How sad!”
-
-“Tell you what,” exclaimed Wynne, “there’s an old man Richmond way who
-sells hot turnovers. When the spring comes we might ’bus down there,
-have a walk in the park, and munch turnovers in the night on the way
-home.”
-
-“Yes, let’s do that.”
-
-Very ordinary affairs assume a delicate outline when approached in a
-romantic spirit. The idea of eating turnovers on the top of a ’bus does
-not sound very attractive, and yet to Wynne, as he suggested it, and to
-Eve as she listened, the promised expedition seemed full of the happiest
-possibilities. They felt the touch of a spring breeze blowing in their
-hair, and saw the whitey-green of the new leaves, and the blue sky turn
-to a lavender in which the stars appeared. Almost they could taste the
-good baked crust and the sour-sweet apples of the midnight feast.
-
-“D’you know,” said Eve, “I think, of all things in the world, the most
-glorious are those we mean to do.”
-
-They stopped before an old Queen Anne house, and producing a latchkey
-Wynne unlocked the door.
-
-“Top floor,” he said, “and rather a climb.”
-
-They mounted the creaky stairs, and he was puffing gustily when they
-reached the top landing. For a young man he seemed unduly exhausted.
-Striking a light on his boot, he entered and lit a shaded lamp.
-
-“Take off your hat and I’ll get the fire going. Look! I must have paid
-the rent, for it is actually laid.”
-
-Eve smiled as he went down on his knees before a tiny basket grate, then
-let her gaze travel round the room. Inset, in the damp-stained slanting
-roof, were two gable windows, broad silled and littered with books and
-papers. Before one of these was a writing table, dilapidated but
-glorious with age; this, too, was liberally sprinkled with half-written
-manuscripts, pens, cigarette ends, and the jumble of odds and ends with
-which a man surrounds himself. A small Jacobean table stood in the
-middle of the uncarpeted floor, a tarnished copper bowl, battered but
-still shapely, giving tone to its dark fissured surface. Two age-worn
-grandfather chairs were drawn up near the fire. In each recess in the
-walls was a bookcase, piled ceiling-high with books. A couple of Holbein
-prints, and an unframed Albrecht Dürer completed the decoration. It was
-a shabby, unkempt room, yet, like its owner, it possessed individuality
-and charm.
-
-“I like this,” said Eve. “I’m glad I came.”
-
-“You like it. I thought you would—hoped so, too. I’ve never shown it to
-any one else. It is good though, isn’t it? Try that chair. I carried it
-back on my head from a ragshop in Holloway Road, and having nearly
-deprived me of life it gave it back to me in sweet repose. Take off your
-coat first, won’t you? That’s right. Don’t forget the ’taters though.
-Thanks! I’ll put ’em on the trivet. Good. Thank God the fire means to
-burn. D’you know sometimes I’ve almost cried when it wouldn’t. I can’t
-lay a fire, and I loathe to be defeated.”
-
-He began wandering round the room and producing plates and knives from
-unexpected quarters. Presently he stopped and puzzled.
-
-“Can you think of a likely place to find the bread?” he asked.
-
-“Where did you see it last?”
-
-“I don’t know. I have meals at all sorts of odd times and places, so one
-loses track. Wait a minute, though.”
-
-He disappeared into the bedroom and emerged with a loaf and a saucer
-with butter on it.
-
-“Breakfasted while I was dressing,” he explained, “or else I had supper
-in there over night. I don’t know which—but let’s make a start.”
-
-They feasted very royally off bread and hard-boiled eggs and hot
-potatoes and raspberry jam, followed by a pot of tea. The tea they drank
-from little Chinese Saki cups without handles.
-
-“I only use these on the especialist occasions,” he announced, adding
-with a smile, “In fact I have never used them before.”
-
-“Haven’t you many friends?”
-
-“No. Have you?”
-
-“No.”
-
-“I thought you hadn’t.”
-
-“Why?”
-
-“People with lots of friends don’t like me—but then I don’t like
-them—so that’s that—isn’t it. Let’s draw near the fire. The poor
-little thing means well, but it can’t reach us at such a distance.”
-
-So they drew up their chairs and talked. They talked of books, of dead
-men, and of great ambitions. Under the influence of her society Wynne
-seemed to lose much of his arrogance and cynicism. He spoke of the
-things he loved naturally and with reverence. Ever and again he would
-dart to the shelves for a volume and read some passage to the point of
-the subject they had been discussing. Then he would throw it aside and
-paraphrase with a clear and almost inspired insight.
-
-“One should always paraphrase,” he said. “One should paraphrase one’s
-own thoughts and every one else’s. It’s the sure way of getting down to
-basic facts. If I were to produce a play of Shakespeare’s I should make
-every actor translate his lines into colloquial schoolboy English. Then
-we should know he had his meanings right. Some glimmer of that necessity
-occurred to me the first time I went to a theatre, but now I see how
-absolutely essential it is.”
-
-The talk always led back to himself. His own ego was the all-important
-factor.
-
-“Extraordinary wrong most people are in their ideas!”
-
-“When will you start to put them right?”
-
-He looked at her keenly—on guard lest she should be laughing at him.
-But the question was sincere enough.
-
-“Oh, I don’t know,” he answered. “I don’t believe in beginnings—gradual
-ascent, ladder of fame, and all that. Life to me is divided into two
-halves—the period of finding out and the period of handing out. I don’t
-intend to be a person who is beginning to be spoken of. When I am spoken
-of it will be by every one—simultaneously. In the meantime it is better
-to be obscure—and absorbent.”
-
-“You want success.”
-
-“I shall have it too.”
-
-“For the world’s sake.”
-
-“Ye-es—and for mine.”
-
-Quarter after quarter boomed out from the neighbouring clocks. It was
-after two when Eve rose and took her coat from the nail on the door.
-
-“You going?”
-
-“Yes.”
-
-“Shall I walk with you?”
-
-“No, it isn’t far.”
-
-“Very well—I want to work too. But you’ll come again, won’t you?”
-
-“If I may.”
-
-“’Course you may. You must. You’re an easy person—easier than I’d have
-thought possible—you sort of—don’t bother me. Take a Walter Pater with
-you. Better for you than Meredith. Treat it gently, though; I starved a
-whole week to buy that book.”
-
-She took the white-vellum bound volume, nodded, and tucked it under her
-arm.
-
-“Good-night.”
-
-“’Night. You are rather an admirable person.”
-
-“Am I?”
-
-“Yes. A girl is generally frightened to be in a man’s rooms in the
-middle of the night.”
-
-“It wouldn’t occur to me to be frightened of you,” said Eve.
-
-“Why not?”
-
-“A man who starved for a week to buy this.” She touched the book under
-her arm.
-
-For some reason her gently spoken words piqued him, and he replied:
-
-“Yet I am a man just the same.”
-
-“A man but not the same,” she said, and, smiling, passed out on to the
-landing.
-
-She had descended the first flight before he moved and followed her to
-the front door.
-
-“I will walk back with you.” It was what any man would have said.
-
-“No, please not. I had rather think of you as the student working for
-the day.”
-
-He hesitated—then, “Very well. Good-night.”
-
-“Good-night.”
-
-He retraced his steps slowly. The memory of her attitude and her words
-puzzled him.
-
-“More like a boy,” he concluded, which if you think it out was a very
-fine form of conceit.
-
-His thoughts wandered from his work, and he bit his pen for a long, long
-while. His eyes rested unseeingly on the black patch which was the
-window.
-
-“More like a boy—much more.”
-
-He nodded to convince himself. After all, the friendship of a boy who is
-really a girl is very pleasant.
-
-Never once did it cross his mind how entirely negligible was the
-physical side of his nature. A man whose brain works with febrile
-intensity night and day, and whose earnings are scarcely sufficient to
-buy the meanest fare, knows little or nothing of passionate callings.
-Unlike your idle, over-fed fellow whose intellect performs no greater
-task than finding excuses for bodily indulgence, the student’s
-sensuality lies in words and colour. His worst vice is the prostitution
-of an artistic standard.
-
-
- III
-
-It was the neuter quality in Wynne Rendall which made possible the
-all-hour intimacy which came to exist between Eve and himself. She would
-come to his rooms, indifferent to time and convention, and stay far into
-the night.
-
-Sometimes they conversed little, and then, while he worked or wandered
-about in a seemingly aimless fashion, seeking some cherished but elusive
-word, she would read, curled up in the age-worn chair. When the talking
-mood possessed him she would lay her book aside and contribute
-endorsement or censure to his ideas. In this respect her courage was
-boundless, for she never hesitated to dispute with him when she felt he
-was at fault. He would fight for his mental holdings to the last breath
-of argument, then of a sudden swing round and say:
-
-“Yes, I know you are right—but how do you know?”
-
-His extraordinary belief in himself filled her with a queer mixture of
-distress and admiration, but the distress was outweighed by the
-admiration and the joy she took in their brain to brain fencing or
-accord. Their talks, although embracing nearly every subject under the
-sun, were, as a rule, impersonal, or rather impersonal in so far as
-their relations to one another was concerned.
-
-In common with many folk, Wynne thought more highly of his lesser deeds
-than of his greater, and vaunted them enthusiastically. He was
-inordinately proud of his truculence and acerbity to men who were more
-successful than himself, and took pleasure in recounting the fine-edged
-verbal tools he had employed against them. He was mortally offended when
-Eve told him frankly the attitude was unworthy and easily misconstrued.
-
-“They only think you are envious,” she said.
-
-“I envious of them? Good God!”
-
-Her frankness had its effect, however, for he modified the
-characteristic, and no longer shouted “Yah” at lesser intellects and
-longer purses.
-
-Another change she brought about was the matter of diet. Very
-drastically she quashed the nibbling habit which with him had taken the
-place of meals.
-
-“Wynne,” she said, “what did you have for breakfast?”
-
-“Lord knows. I don’t! Nothing, I expect.”
-
-“Would you like to please me?”
-
-“Yes,” he answered, “I suppose so.”
-
-“You are starving yourself.”
-
-“What nonsense!”
-
-“You are. You won’t be able to stand the strain if you don’t eat
-properly.”
-
-“I shan’t if I do,” he replied. “How can I buy books and pay rent and
-all that if I lavish my substance on victuals.”
-
-“How much do you spend a week on food?”
-
-“Never thought.”
-
-“Think then.”
-
-“Not I. Look! You haven’t seen this copy of ‘Erewhon,’ have you? It’s a
-first edition!”
-
-“I want you to answer my question.”
-
-He tossed his head petulantly.
-
-“Oh, don’t be like that,” he implored. “The world is peopled with folk
-who worry about these matters; let’s be away from them. You’ll want me
-to buy a dinner-gong next so that half the street may know I am sitting
-down to table.”
-
-“Perhaps I shall, for I want you to sit at table—regularly.”
-
-He caught the word “regularly,” and played tunes upon it.
-
-“I know,” said Eve, “and I like you for feeling that way—but you are
-fighting against nature—not convention—and that’s all wrong. We funny
-little things who walk about on the world must follow certain laws—we
-can’t help ourselves—and we may as well follow them sensibly. We have
-to lie down and get up and wash our faces and brush our hair and eat our
-dinners; we have to—if we didn’t we should accomplish nothing. It is
-foolish to fight with the ‘musts’ when there are armies of ‘needn’t
-be’s’ to draw the sword against.”
-
-He snorted derisively and ridiculed prosaic philosophy. When he had
-finished she calmly repeated her question.
-
-“How much do you spend a week on food?”
-
-Very reluctantly he produced a sheet of paper and a pencil and scribbled
-a rough estimate.
-
-“Will you give me the nine shillings and let me cater for you?”
-
-“No,” he said emphatically.
-
-“Please do.”
-
-“Why should I spend money on a dinner when I can stave off hunger with a
-stick of chocolate?”
-
-“Couldn’t we make a common fund and have one meal together each day. I’d
-cook it here.”
-
-His expression brightened instantly.
-
-“You would? You’d come each day?”
-
-“If you consent.”
-
-Hitherto her comings had been sporadic—too sporadic. He had felt, when
-she was absent, the consciousness of something lacking.
-
-“I should like you to come here every day,” he said.
-
-He was willing to accept a routine of her society, though rebelling
-against a time-table for meals. She smiled as the thought crossed her
-mind, but to have voiced it would have been to sacrifice the gains she
-had made.
-
-“If you consent,” she repeated.
-
-“All right; do what you will,” he said.
-
-So every afternoon Eve cooked a meal over a grubby little gas-ring,
-assisted by a methylated spirit stove, and had the satisfaction of
-seeing her labours rewarded by a slightly added tinge of colour to his
-cheeks.
-
-In buying the food she contributed more toward the cost than he, for in
-the matter of money he was strangely unmindful. Frequently he forgot his
-weekly contribution altogether, and returned home with some trifle of
-china or an old print by way of alternative. On these occasions it did
-not occur to him to question how meals still appeared upon his table,
-and Eve would not have told him for the world how hard it had been that
-this should be so.
-
-Increasingly her thoughts centred on his welfare, and her own
-personality took second place. Even her ambitions—and they had been
-many and glorious—became merged in the task of helping him to success.
-
-He had not taken into consideration the possibility that she, too, was a
-climber at heart, and had set her sails for the port where the dreams
-come true. He was quite offended when one day she spoke of herself.
-
-“But can you act?” he staccatoed.
-
-“One day I shall,” she answered. “One day I shall feel I know so much
-more than all the others—then I shall act, and people will sit up and
-say so.”
-
-“H’m.”
-
-“You think it unlikely?”
-
-“Oh, I don’t know.” He fidgeted with a cup on the mantelshelf. “It
-seemed you were echoing those things which I say to myself.”
-
-“We have thoughts in common.”
-
-He shook his head irritably.
-
-“I don’t admit it. There is no common currency in thoughts or ideas. To
-me parallel lines are antagonistic lines. Why should you want to act?”
-
-“I want to express myself as strongly as you do. I want to succeed.”
-
-“I don’t like women who succeed. Why should you succeed? Where’s the
-necessity—?”
-
-“Born in me,” she answered.
-
-His words for the moment had hurt her bitterly, but the subtler side of
-her nature took comfort from the almost childishly petulant tone in
-which he had spoken them.
-
-“The necessity is born by the things around you,” he said. “They are the
-impulses toward success.”
-
-“Yes, that’s true. Perhaps it was the wretched drabness of my
-surroundings which fired the impulse in me. We haven’t talked to each
-other of our people, you and I?”
-
-“I never think back,” he said.
-
-“I do, because it’s the impetus to think forward.”
-
-He looked at her critically.
-
-“You might have come from princely stock by the look of you. You haven’t
-the seeming of the drab.”
-
-“Perhaps I did; but it was the inbred collapsed finish of the good
-stock. My father idled backward to the slums—my mother was gentle, but
-that was all. He was dead before I could remember. Oh, that dreadful
-back-street life! You can’t understand. We were only a little removed
-from the gossipy-doorstep folk who talk of a neighbour’s confinement as
-they lean on the rickety railings. We played with their children, my
-sister and I, bought from their horrid mean shops—went to the same
-wretched school. Oh! how I hated it all—the miserable rooms, the
-bargaining for food, the squabbles, and the never-ending economy and
-thrift. Grey—grey—grey! I used to lash a purple whiptop at the corner
-of the street, and pray sometimes a great chariot of fire would snatch
-me up into the skies.”
-
-It was Wynne’s habit to ignore central ideas in another’s conversation,
-hence the question:
-
-“Why a _purple_ top?”
-
-“I hardly know—but it was _always_ purple. I kept a patch of purple on
-my horizon.”
-
-He looked at her queerly.
-
-“What do you mean by that?”
-
-“The Royal Purple. Somehow it stands out as the colour which rises above
-all sordidness. Can’t explain it otherwise.”
-
-He nodded. “I know what you mean. Strange you should feel like that,
-too.” The “too” was scarcely audible.
-
-“When I was ever so little I had that feeling, and it has grown up with
-me. I used to believe that a purple goodness lined the great clouds
-above and the hilltops of my imagination. I could travel in my
-imagination, too. Just close my eyes and say to myself: Now the world is
-falling away, and I’m floating upwards, and I would pass above all the
-slates and see down all the chimneys until the houses became cities, and
-the cities grey marks on the green earth—and the rivers twisted silver
-wires which curled from the mountains to the sea.”
-
-“You should meet Uncle Clem,” said Wynne.
-
-“Who is he?”
-
-“A man who thinks that way. But what is it like up there in the clouds?”
-
-“Do you know, strangely, it isn’t very different—only fuller. Just as
-if one went up discontented and found contentment in what one had left
-behind. I used to think this was because my imagination couldn’t picture
-a better state, but I believe that no longer.”
-
-“The climb is for nothing, then?”
-
-“Oh, no, for the climb proves that what you sought is the best of what
-you left behind.”
-
-“H’m! Sometimes,” he said. “You have queer notions. Have you found out
-what is the best of your possessions?”
-
-“I don’t know them by heart, yet.”
-
-“Why by heart?”
-
-“I am a woman.”
-
-“Yes, and sometimes, I think, just like any other.”
-
-“I am.”
-
-“Once I tried to define my motives—can you define yours?”
-
-“I want a place in the sun—want it tremendously. I want to be able to
-think and feel and move among lovely things and people. I have given
-away twenty years to sordidness, and all I have earned is appreciation
-of the beautiful. I want to live the beautiful now, and rise above the
-trivial bother of a washpail and a gas-ring.”
-
-“Mammon, Mammon,” cried Wynne, for want of a better thought.
-
-“Oh no. Don’t think I crave for money, for it isn’t so; but one must
-have money if one is never to think of it.”
-
-“Why?”
-
-“Isn’t half the sorrow in the world traceable to such little causes as
-an extra halfpenny on a quartern of bread?”
-
-“Not untrue,” Wynne nodded. His eyes fell on the dirty gas-ring of the
-grate, and he frowned. “Why do you come here, then?”
-
-“Don’t you know?” she replied.
-
-“No. It’s squalid enough!”
-
-“Then it is because you are the first real person I have ever met
-outside the cover of a book.”
-
-“I give you something, then?”
-
-“A great deal.”
-
-A modesty seized him, touched with self-reproach.
-
-“Only because it pleases me,” he said, brusquely. “The giving is done by
-you. That much I realize.”
-
-“I’m glad—and I’m glad to give.”
-
-“Yes, a woman’s life is to give—that’s natural law—the only kind of
-law worth accepting.” He hesitated—then, “Are you satisfied to give?”
-
-She smiled her wise, intricate smile, and he did not wait for the
-answer.
-
-“You never smile as you should,” he reproached. “Yours is a thinking
-smile—perplexing. Do you never smile or laugh from sheer happiness?”
-
-“Perhaps I have never yet been sheerly happy.”
-
-“What would make you?”
-
-“I haven’t found out.”
-
-“But I want to know. If you smiled for me you would seem less remote.”
-
-“Am I remote?”
-
-“Yes—remote is the word.” He looked at her fixedly, then shook himself
-and began to pace up and down the room. When next he spoke his voice was
-querulous and irritable:
-
-“I should have been working all this while. The train of my thoughts is
-all upset—disordered. It is unlike you to disturb me. I’ve lost an
-hour. Tomorrow I must work all day—alone.”
-
-“Go back to yourself,” she said, gently.
-
-She did not leave at once, but half an hour later he looked up and saw
-she was buttoning her coat.
-
-“You needn’t go.”
-
-“I had better,” she said; and at the door—“I come here too often,
-perhaps. It is selfish of me.”
-
-“But I like you to be here—I want you here. I meant nothing—only I’m a
-little keyed up and worried. I don’t know why.”
-
-“It’s all right,” said Eve. “Just for tomorrow I’ll stay away.”
-
-“You want to?”
-
-“No; but it is good sometimes to do what one doesn’t want. G’bye.” And
-she was gone.
-
-That night, as he lay in bed, the same feeling of self-reproach which
-had sprung into being for an instant during their talk came back to him
-heavily.
-
-“What do I do for her? Nothing.”
-
-
- IV
-
-The thought awoke with him next day, and seemed to write itself across
-the pages of his manuscript. He could not concentrate, and the ink on
-his dipped pen dried times without number, and not a line was committed
-to the paper. The hour for their united meal came, and with it a feeling
-of loneliness and disappointment. He made no attempt to set the table
-for himself, but sat staring dully at the criss-cross lines of the
-window transoms, fiddling aimlessly with the books and papers before
-him.
-
-Once he thought he would go out, but changed his mind, and threw his hat
-aside before he had reached the door of the room. He tried to read, but
-the words were meaningless and confused, and conveyed nothing to his
-mind, so he dropped the book to the floor and fell back to the fruitless
-staring again. The words she had spoken about her childhood recurred,
-and with the startling reproductive faculty which he possessed he was
-able to picture it all very vividly. He could almost visualize the cheap
-short dress she would have worn when, years before, she lashed her
-purple top at the corner of that grey side street. The houses there
-would have narrow and worn steps leading down to the pavement; they
-would have mean areas, and windows repaired with gelatine lozenges. One
-of the lodgers would boast a row of geranium pots on the window-sill,
-stayed from falling by a slack string. No flowers would bloom in those
-pots—a few atrophied leaves on a brown stalk would be the only reward
-of the desultory waterings. In the yards at the back queer, shapeless
-garments would flap and fill upon a line, and gaunt cats would creep
-along the sooty walls. There would be querulous voices somewhere raised
-in argument or rebuke, and the shrill cries of children at unfriendly
-games. On Sundays vulgar youths with button-holes would loaf by the
-letter-box at the street corner, making eyes and blowing coarse kisses
-to the giggling girls who warily congregated on the far side. At times
-there would be chasings, slaps, and rough-and-tumble courtships. Old men
-without coats would blink and smoke complacently on the doorsteps, and
-women would nod and whisper of their misfortunes and their fears.
-
-“She came from there—untouched by it all,” thought Wynne. “She deserves
-her place in the sun.”
-
-A strange restlessness seized him, and he started to pace up and down.
-
-
- V
-
-Wynne arrived at the theatre earlier than usual that night, and met Eve
-in one of the corridors.
-
-“Well,” he said.
-
-“Well?”
-
-He shook his head. “I haven’t worked all day—I couldn’t.”
-
-“I’m sorry. What have you done?”
-
-“Walked about—and thought.”
-
-“Of what?”
-
-“Of you mostly.”
-
-“Have you? I’m glad. I wanted you to think of me today.”
-
-“Why today?”
-
-“It’s my birthday.”
-
-“No!”
-
-She nodded.
-
-“How old?”
-
-“Twenty-one.”
-
-“Twenty-one!”
-
-It seemed rather sad. Twenty-one is a great birthday. Had she been an
-earl’s daughter there would have been laughter and dancing in the hall
-that night—white flowers and scarlet in happy clusters everywhere.
-There would have been pearls from her father, and a dream dress to wear.
-Wax candles would have glittered the silver on the board, and
-pink-coated huntsmen would have led her to the dance.
-
-It seemed rather sad she should be walking-on in a crowd to earn three
-shillings and sixpence. And with this reflection there came to Wynne an
-idea—one of the first that did not actually concern himself. It smote
-him gloriously, and sent a pulsation of delight throbbing through his
-veins. But all he said was:
-
-“You will come to the rooms after the play?”
-
-She hesitated. “I said I would not.”
-
-“But it’s your birthday.”
-
-“Then, if I shan’t disturb you.”
-
-“Even if you do, I want you to come.”
-
-“Very well. Will you wait for me?”
-
-“No. Follow me round. I’ve something to do first. Here, take a key and
-keep it if you will. I give you the freedom of the rooms.”
-
-“I wish you’d wait,” she said.
-
-“Sorry,” he replied, shaking his head.
-
-“After all, a birthday means very little to a man,” thought Eve. Yet she
-was disappointed he had refused so small a service.
-
-When his scene was over, Wynne dressed quickly and hurried from the
-theatre. In his pocket was a sum of six shillings and threepence. He
-counted it by touch as he walked down Maiden Lane and struck across
-Covent Garden. Before a modest wine shop in Endell Street he stopped and
-considered. In the window was a pyramid of champagne bottles, the base
-composed of magnums, the first tier of quarts, the second of pints, and,
-resting proudly on top, a single half-pint. Each size was carefully
-priced, even the tiny bottle showing a ticket on which was printed, “Two
-shillings and eightpence.”
-
-Wynne squared his shoulders and entered the shop with an air of some
-importance.
-
-“This Dry Royal,” he said, “is it a wine you can recommend?”
-
-“It is a very drinkable wine,” replied the merchant. “Of course it does
-not compare—”
-
-But Wynne interrupted with:
-
-“I’ll take one of the half-pints to sample.”
-
-“I have no half-pints.”
-
-“There is one in the window.”
-
-“It is not for sale.”
-
-“Why not?”
-
-“There is no demand for that size.”
-
-“I am supplying the demand.” His tone was irritatingly precise, and the
-merchant was offended.
-
-“I regret, sir, I cannot undertake to spoil my window dressing for so
-small an order.” He spoke with finality that could not be misconstrued.
-
-“Good God!” exclaimed Wynne. “You call it a small order? It is nearly
-half of all I possess. Am I to be cheated of a celebration for the sake
-of your damned ideas of symmetry?”
-
-His very genuine concern excited interest.
-
-“I should be very sorry to cheat you of anything,” came the answer in a
-more kindly voice. “Perhaps if you would explain—”
-
-“What explanation is needed? Why does any one buy champagne except to
-celebrate an event? Must I sacrifice the desire to please and the hope
-of giving a sparkle of happiness because your hide-bound conventions
-won’t let you knock the top off a triangle? Is the expression of a
-kindly wish to be nullified because my worldly wealth won’t run to a
-pint? Would you decline to serve a rich man with a quart because you
-stock magnums? There’s no damned sense of justice in it.”
-
-It so happened there were warm springs in the heart of the little Endell
-Street wine merchant—and imagination too. As he listened to this
-intemperate outburst he pictured very vividly the event which the small
-gold-braided bottle was destined to enliven. A man does not spend half
-his belongings for no purpose, and accordingly he said:
-
-“I never wish to disappoint a customer, sir. If you would accept a pint
-for the price of the half, you would be doing me a service.”
-
-But the rancour had not abated, and Wynne replied:
-
-“This is a celebration—not a damned charity.”
-
-“I see—of course not. Please forgive me,” said the little man, and
-opening a panelled door he took the tiny bottle from the top of the
-pyramid and wrapped it up.
-
-Wynne placed two shillings and eightpence on the counter, pocketed the
-parcel, and walked to the door. Arrived there, he turned and came back
-with an outstretched hand.
-
-“You’re a good sort,” he said.
-
-“Thank you, sir, and a very merry evening.”
-
-They shook hands warmly.
-
-At a very special fruiterer’s in Southampton Row Wynne bought a quarter
-of a pound of hothouse grapes, and argued fiercely with the shop
-assistant who did not consider the purchase warranted placing the fruit
-on vine leaves in a basket. He next made his way to a confectioner’s,
-and forced an entrance as they were putting up the shutters. Here he had
-a windfall, and secured a small but beautifully iced cake for a
-shilling, on the double account of the lateness of the hour and a slight
-crack in the icing.
-
-On the pavement outside he counted what remained of his original
-capital.
-
-“One and tenpence—good!” he remarked.
-
-The red and green lights of a chemist lured him to enter, and he
-emerged, after a period of exquisite indecision, with two elegant
-packages—one containing a tablet of soap, and the other a tiny bottle
-of perfume.
-
-Carrying his treasures with prodigious care he hastened toward his
-rooms, but had hardly covered half the distance when an appalling
-thought occurred to him. Under the weight of it he stopped short, and
-beat his forehead with a closed fist.
-
-“I’ve forgotten the candles,” he gasped. “The fairy candles—the
-twenty-one candles!”
-
-Without those twenty-one candles the whole affair would be flat and
-meaningless. In being able to obtain them reposed the success of the
-scheme. He tried an oilshop, but without success—he tried another with
-the same result.
-
-“My God!” he exclaimed in an ecstasy of anxiety, “where can I get the
-things?”
-
-And the good angel who listens for such prayers heard, and sent toward
-him a small boy of pleasing exterior who whistled gaily.
-
-“I say,” said Wynne, “ever had a Christmas-tree?”
-
-The boy grinned and nodded.
-
-“One with candles on it, I mean—coloured candles?”
-
-“Yus, it was a proper tree.”
-
-“I want some candles—want ’em tremendously. Know where I could get
-some?”
-
-Appealed to as a specialist, the urchin adopted a professional mien, and
-paused for consideration. Eventually he said:
-
-“Dad got ours at Dawes’s, rahnd the street. She’s still got some, ’cos
-my mate, Joe, bought one for his bull’s-eye.”
-
-“Round which street?”
-
-“Over there.”
-
-Wynne waited for no more, and broke into a run. By a kindly Providence
-Mrs. Dawes had not put up the shutters, being a lady who traded sweets
-to little voyagers whose parents were not over particular as to the
-hours they kept.
-
-“I dessay I could lay my ’and on a few,” she replied to Wynne’s fervent
-appeal, “though it isn’t the season for them, you understand.”
-
-With that she opened, or rattled, an incredible number of wrong boxes,
-taken from beneath the counter. The sweat had beaded Wynne’s forehead
-when at last she discovered what she had been seeking. She did not
-appear to be in any hurry, and conversed on technical subjects during
-the search.
-
-“There isn’t the sale for coloured candles that there used to be. Of
-course you may say as it is more the peg-top season, and that might
-account for it; but it doesn’t—not altogether, that is. Putting the
-Christmas trade on one side, boys don’t go for bull’s-eye lanterns as
-once they did—no, nor Chinese neither. It’s all iron ’oops, or roller
-skates nowadays, as you may say. Why, I dessay I sell as much as ten or
-a dozen ’oops a week.”
-
-“Do you indeed?”
-
-“Quite that. Let’s see! Candles! Ah, I think this is them.” And it was.
-
-“Thank God!” exclaimed Wynne. “I want twenty-one.”
-
-He watched in an agony of suspense as she turned out precisely that
-number.
-
-“Five a penny,” she said.
-
-“Lord!” he gasped. “I’ve only fourpence.”
-
-“You can pay me the odd farthing when you are passing.”
-
-Greatly to the good lady’s surprise the extraordinary young man leant
-across the counter and planted a kiss upon her ample cheek, then seizing
-his purchases raced from the shop and scuttled down the street.
-
-“Well I never!” she exclaimed—“must be a bit mad.” But nevertheless she
-rubbed the spot where the kiss had fallen with a kindly touch.
-
-
- VI
-
-Probably for the first time in his life Wynne felt the need of fine
-linen. It is a sorry happening to lay choice dishes on a bare board. A
-flash of memory provided an alternative, and he unearthed a roll of
-white wallpaper from a cupboard. Mindful of a trick performed by small
-boys at gallery doors, he folded and tore the paper to a rough
-presentment of a lace cloth. Quite imposing it looked upon the black
-surface of the old oak table.
-
-To the rim of a fine, but much-riveted blue-and-white plate he waxed the
-twenty-one candles, and in the centre, pedestalled upon an inverted
-soap-dish, he stood the birthday cake. The champagne and some glasses
-were placed on one side of this setpiece, the grapes on the other, while
-before it, squarely and precisely laid, were the two beautifully tied
-parcels of soap and scent.
-
-So wrapped up was he in the exquisite pleasure of his preparations that
-he was quite insensible to the deliberate symmetry he had brought
-about—a circumstance which may prove a great deal, or nothing at all.
-When he had done he fell back and surveyed his handiwork as an artist
-before a masterpiece.
-
-And outside rumbled the voices of the clocks saying the hour was eleven.
-
-“Eleven! She will be here in a moment,” he thought. A sudden nervousness
-seized him. He did not know why or what it was about. He touched his
-pocket to be sure the matches were there. He wondered if she were all
-right, and had crossed Long Acre and Oxford Street safely—they were
-busiest in theatre traffic at that hour, and private cars and taxis paid
-little heed to pedestrians. It would be so easy for her to be knocked
-down and run over. He could picture the curious, jostling crowds that
-would gather round, the blue helmets of the police in the centre—and
-the gaunt ambulance which would appear from nowhere.
-
-“God! What a fool I am,” he exclaimed. “She’s all right—of course she
-is.”
-
-Yet, despite this guarantee of her safety, thoughts of possible disaster
-raced across his mind. Memory of his visit to the Morgue in Paris arose
-and would not be banished. He recalled what he had said that day: “Death
-is so horribly conclusive.” Conclusive! Suppose it were visited upon
-her?—something would die in him, too. He asked himself what that
-something would be, but could find no answer. It would be something so
-lately come to life that he did not know it well enough to name.
-
-Once more his eyes fell upon the table, and the fears vanished. Of
-course she would come—of course nothing would happen to her. Even
-though it were against her will, she would be drawn by what he had
-prepared.
-
-He blew out the lamp, and crossing the room opened the window and leant
-over the sill to wait.
-
-It was a sweet night, starred and silent. Smoke rose ghostily from the
-silhouetted stacks, and a faint, murmurous wind, which seemed to have
-stolen from a Devon lane, touched his hair to movement. North, south,
-east, and west stretched the roofs of London, and in imagination he
-could hear the soft rustle as the dwellers beneath tucked themselves in
-for the night.
-
-A hundred times before he had leant out, as now, with thoughts which ran
-on the groundlings who ate and slept and worked and squabbled beneath
-that army of stacks and slates; and how, one day, his name should come
-to be as familiar with them as the pictures hanging on their walls. But
-tonight his feelings were different. He conceived these people in their
-relation to each other and not to himself. In each and all those myriad
-abiding-places there would be folk with gentle thoughts and kindly
-desires, even as his were then. They would be linked together by the
-common tie of doing something to please. Never before had it occurred to
-him that in pleasing another happiness was born in oneself. Hitherto he
-had only thought to please by the nimbleness of his artistry—the
-perfection of a style, the ability to express; but now he saw the surer
-way was to appeal to the heart—to minister to the true sentiment—to
-hand over sincerity from one’s simple best.
-
-A footfall below, and the glimpse of a grey figure in the light of the
-street-lamp, brought him to immediate action. He drew back from the
-window, and, trembling with excitement, put a match to the circle of
-coloured candles.
-
-A ring of fire leapt into being—a tiny flame for every year of her in
-whose honour they were burnt in offering.
-
-Standing behind the lights, and almost invisible in the twinkling glare,
-Wynne waited breathlessly for the door to open.
-
-She was drawing off her gloves as she came into the room, but she
-stopped, and her hands fell gently to her sides. Her eyes rested on
-every detail of the little scene, hovering over it with an exquisite
-increase of lustre. And slowly her lips broke into a smile of the purest
-child-happiness, as, with a little catch in her voice, she breathed:
-
-“How lovely and dear of you.”
-
-It was hard to find a reply.
-
-“You’re pleased?” he said. “I’m glad.”
-
-“Pleased! Look! there are two presents for me—real champagne, with its
-livery all bright and goldy—and the bloom on the grapes, it’s—that’s a
-proper birthday cake, with ‘marzi’ inside—and twenty-one candles
-because I am twenty-one years old today.”
-
-She held out her hand, and he came to her and took it in one of his. For
-quite a while they stood in silence.
-
-“This is my first real birthday, and you’ve thought of it all for me.
-Oh, it is wonderful, you know.”
-
-“You have done something more wonderful for me,” he said, in a voice
-that seemed unlike his own.
-
-“I?”
-
-“You smiled for me.”
-
-“Because you made me utterly happy.”
-
-“D’you think—I could—go on making you happy?”
-
-For the first time she raised her eyes from the fairy candles to meet
-his.
-
-“Do you want to?”
-
-His reply was characteristic.
-
-“Yes—for I am happier now than I have ever been.”
-
-She laughed understandingly, and caressed his hand.
-
-“Oh, here!” he said. “Sit down, I want to talk.” He almost thrust her
-into the chair and settled himself upon the arm. “All of a sudden you
-have become something that I want—must have. Spiritually I want you
-near me—you’re—you’re essential. Without you I am incomplete. If I
-lost you I should lose more than you—far more. D’you understand?”
-
-“Yes, I understand.”
-
-“Together we could reach any heights, you and I, for you give me the
-atmosphere I need—the right essence. I used to believe the line, ‘He
-travels fastest who travels alone,’ but now I scout it—it’s lost its
-truth for me. I believe you are wrapped up in my happiness and my
-success; I believe without you they would be in jeopardy—in danger.
-D’you care for me well enough to take me on those terms?”
-
-Very slowly she replied:
-
-“I want you to have your happiness, Wynne, and your success—I want that
-to be a true dream.”
-
-“Then—?”
-
-“I’ll accept your spiritual offer—and give you all in return. But won’t
-you say just one thing more?”
-
-“What have I left unsaid?”
-
-“Did you say you loved me?”
-
-“No,” he replied; “but, in God’s name, I believe I do.”
-
-“My dear,” she said, with a mother’s voice.
-
-He broke away from her and started to pace the room feverishly.
-
-“Come back,” she pleaded. “I am so proud of that belief.”
-
-He threw up his head.
-
-“I was honest enough to offer all I possessed,” he cried. “A man would
-have taken you in his arms. God! I’m only half a man—a starveling—!
-You are beautiful—beautiful to me—beautiful—subtle—desirable—but I
-haven’t a shred of passion in my half-starved body.”
-
-“Yours is the better half, dear. The spirit counts, and the greatest
-possession a woman can have is all that her man can give. Let us keep
-our spirits bright together.” She rose, and he came toward her, and
-suddenly his face lost its tragic look, and the lines at the corners of
-his mouth pulled down in a whimsical smile.
-
-“What a triumph for Plato!” he said. “When shall it be?”
-
-She smiled back at him. “Whenever you wish.”
-
-Very delicious she looked in the dancing fairy light. A strangely new
-and elemental impulse seized him, and he gripped her shoulders fiercely.
-
-“You are wonderful,” he said. “We’ll work together for the Day. The Day
-shall be our _real_ wedding; till then—partners.”
-
-“Partners.”
-
-“You shall help to make a success, and—a man; and when I’m a man I
-shall seek a man’s reward. We’ll pledge that! Come, let’s feast before
-the candles burn low.”
-
-The tiny bottle of champagne popped bravely, and the wine tinkled
-against the glass.
-
-
-
-
- PART SIX
- “HE TRAVELS FASTEST—
-
-
- I
-
-They were on their way to the registrar’s when Wynne stopped short and
-exclaimed, “Of course!” Then, in answer to an arched-brow inquiry from
-Eve: “Would you like to meet some one nice?”
-
-“I have,” she smiled, for it was their wedding day, and future wives and
-husbands say pleasant things to each other on their wedding days, even
-though sometimes they forget to do so afterwards.
-
-“A man—in fact, an uncle of mine.”
-
-“Uncle Clem?”
-
-“Yes. How did you know?”
-
-“Guessed.”
-
-“Have I spoken of him?”
-
-“Once.”
-
-“I want you to meet him.”
-
-“Then I do too.”
-
-“Don’t know where he lives though.”
-
-“Let’s try a telephone directory.”
-
-They did—and successfully.
-
-“He would live in Kensington Square,” said Wynne.
-
-“Have you never been to see him before?”
-
-Wynne shook his head.
-
-“But why not?”
-
-“Did you never have that feeling of wanting to keep something back? How
-can I explain? If you are thirsty and at last you are within reach of a
-drink, have you never waited awhile instead of snatching it to your
-lips?”
-
-“I know.”
-
-“Then that’s why. Only here and there has he entered my life, and
-somehow each time I felt the better for him. I’m not a very grateful
-individual, but I’m grateful to Uncle Clem—and I’m grateful _for_ Uncle
-Clem, too. He sees things very agreeably. When I was a child I thought
-him a god—and I haven’t altogether outgrown that feeling.”
-
-“Then why do you avoid him?”
-
-“When one goes before the Presence one likes to have something to show.”
-
-“I see.”
-
-He touched her hand lightly.
-
-“Today I have something to show.”
-
-They climbed to the top of a bright red ’bus and journeyed to
-Kensington. At the church they descended, and dipped into the little
-side street which leads to the Queen Anne houses of Kensington Square.
-
-There was a copper knocker on the door of Uncle Clem’s abode, with which
-Wynne very bravely tattooed his arrival.
-
-“Yes, Mr. Rendall is in,” admitted the manservant who answered the
-summons. “Was he expecting you?”
-
-“Heavens! no,” said Wynne. “I’m his nephew—but let him find out for
-himself. We shouldn’t pocket the spoons if you invited us to come
-inside.”
-
-The man smiled. “I recognize the relationship in your speech, sir.”
-
-He opened the door of a white-panelled room, and, when they had entered,
-mounted the stairs to inform his master.
-
-“Good, isn’t it?” said Wynne, his eyes roaming over the comfortable
-disorder and beautiful appointments. “Everything right. Hullo!” He
-halted abruptly before a large framed canvas on one of the walls, “The
-Faun and the Villagers.”
-
-He was standing so when the door opened, and Uncle Clem, dressed in
-quilted smoking jacket and a pair of ultra vermilion slippers, came in.
-He paused a moment, then out rang his voice:
-
-“Ha! The young fellow! Ain’t dead, then? Let’s look at you!”
-
-Wynne met the full smack of the descending hand in his open palm.
-
-“No,” he laughed. “Look here, instead,” and pivoted Uncle Clem so that
-Eve came in his line of sight.
-
-“Splendid!” said Clem, moving to meet her. “Used to tell him he’d do no
-good until he fell in love. May I kiss her?”
-
-“Don’t ask me.”
-
-“Well, may I?”
-
-“Um!” said Eve.
-
-And he did, saying thereafter:
-
-“First rate! I like it immensely. Sit down—take off your hat, or
-whatever you do to feel at home. That’s the way. Now let’s hear all
-about it. Are you married—or going to be? I see—going to be—no ring.
-Splendid!”
-
-“Here’s the ring,” said Wynne. “It will be worn for the first time
-today.”
-
-“Today! Today the best day in all the year! And you came to see me on
-the way to the church. Fine! Y’know, there is something in ’im after
-all, even though he’s devilish sporadic in coming to see me.”
-
-“He’s saving you up for the good time ahead,” said Eve; “and I can see
-why, now.”
-
-“Then give up seeing why, little lady. What’s your name, by the way?
-What is her name, young fellar?”
-
-“Eve.”
-
-“Eve—couldn’t be better. What was I saying? Ah, yes. Give up seeing
-_why_ and come and see _me_ instead. Rotten policy to save! (never saved
-a penny in my life). Fatal to save! Find out, when it’s too late, don’t
-want what you’ve been saving for—outgrown your impulses. Buried with
-your bankbook, and every one glad you’re dead. No—no. Spend while you
-are young. Get a hold on all the friendship and all the love within
-reach—and then, why then, when you’re old, at least memories will be
-yours as comforters. You agree, don’t you?”
-
-“Yes, I agree,” said Eve.
-
-“And what about you?”
-
-“All or nothing,” replied Wynne. “And I had rather keep the ‘nothing’
-till I can claim the ‘all.’”
-
-“Good stars!” exclaimed Clem. “What a speech for a wedding day!” Then,
-catching a glimpse of the growing colour on Eve’s cheeks:
-
-“Don’t heed me, my dear. I’ve a reputation for saying things which, in
-the vernacular, I didn’t ought. But a man who speaks of nothing on his
-wedding day—?”
-
-Wynne hesitated, then:
-
-“This isn’t altogether our wedding day,” he said.
-
-“Eh?”
-
-“Today she and I are becoming—legalized partners.”
-
-“What the devil are you talking about?”
-
-“Partners. We shall join forces, she and I, and work together for
-success—think of, live for, and concentrate on that goal. Afterwards
-we—”
-
-But Uncle Clem would not let him finish.
-
-“Rank folly!” he cried, jumping to his feet.
-
-“You’ve read your Plato!” said Wynne.
-
-“Plato be damned! Well enough for an old philosopher to mumble his
-repressive theories from a dead log in the market-place—but for you at
-twenty-what-ever-it-may-be, tss—madness—rot—folly! My dear, dear
-girl, for God’s sake, tell him not to talk such utter damn nonsense.”
-
-“You haven’t quite understood,” said Eve, very gently.
-
-“He speaks of success and denies love—he places success before love.
-Doesn’t he know—? Here! don’t you know,” twisting suddenly round, “that
-love is the only success worth having—that success is only possible
-through love?”
-
-“Love is the reward,” said Wynne.
-
-“It is not. It is no more the reward than rain is a reward to the
-ground, or air is a reward to the lungs. Love is a necessity—a primary
-necessity—and the fountain of all inspiration. If you can’t realize
-that, don’t marry—you have no right to marry. Don’t marry him, my dear.
-Keep away from him till he comes to his proper senses.”
-
-“I think we have a greater knowledge,” said Wynne, moving to Eve’s side.
-
-“And I think you have no knowledge whatsoever—that you are throttling
-it at the main. Partners!” he threw up his head. “Oh, can’t you see what
-partners means—what it amounts to in practice? A staling of each other
-for each other—that’s all. A mutual day-by-day loss of conceit and
-regard. You can see it in the City, or wherever you choose to look.
-Listen to what any man says of his partner: ‘He’s all right, but getting
-old—losing his grip—isn’t the man he was,’ so on and so forth. And why
-is it? Because they have no closer tie than their signatures on a piece
-of paper. Nature admits of no lasting partnership between man and woman
-save one—love.”
-
-“Even that partnership is sometimes dissolved.”
-
-“By fools, yes, and by the blind, but not by those who can see.
-Knowledge is the keystone which holds up the archway of heaven, my
-boy—knowledge which has sprung from love. I may be no more than a
-talkative old bachelor, but, by God! I know that to be true. There are
-few enough spirits on this earthy old world of ours, and only through
-love comes the power to know them each by name.” He stopped and fiddled
-with a pipe on the mantelshelf. “This is a disappointment to me—a big
-disappointment. I’d looked to you young folk to open your hearts and
-tell me what was inside, and, instead, I’ve done all the talking, and
-told you what I think they ought to contain, and perhaps offended you
-both into the bargain.”
-
-“No, you haven’t,” said Eve. “I like you for it.”
-
-“And you?”
-
-“If I were offended,” said Wynne, “I should not ask you to come to the
-wedding—and I do.”
-
-Uncle Clem shook his head slowly.
-
-“Not I,” he said. “I’m an idealist—not a business man. I’d as soon
-watch a stockbroker signing scrip.”
-
-On the doorstep, a few moments later, he touched Eve’s arm and
-whispered:
-
-“Run away—don’t do it—run away.”
-
-She shook her head. “I love him,” she said.
-
-In silence she and Wynne walked to the High Street and turned into
-Kensington Gardens.
-
-“He’s losing his grip—not the man he was—getting old,” quoted Wynne.
-
-“And yet,” she answered, “he is younger than we are.”
-
-They fell upon a second silence, then very suddenly Wynne said:
-
-“Are you unhappy?”
-
-“No.”
-
-“Are you doubtful?”
-
-“No.”
-
-“You do believe in me?”
-
-“Yes.”
-
-“It’s—it’s not much of a wedding for you.”
-
-“There’s all the future.”
-
-“Yes. He was wrong, of course.”
-
-“If the future is to be ours.”
-
-“It shall be ours. What’s it matter if we grope along the flats if at
-last we jump to the mountain top together?”
-
-“I put all my faith in that.”
-
-“You shall never regret it.”
-
-She hung close upon his arm. “No, you won’t let me regret it, will you?
-You won’t _ever_ let me regret it?”
-
-“’Course not.”
-
-“I want to know, when you make that leap to the mountain top, that my
-arm will be through yours as it is now.”
-
-“It will be then. I shall want to show my treasures to the world,” he
-said.
-
-Her mouth broke into a smile.
-
-“Nothing else matters,” she said.
-
-
- II
-
-A registrar is not, as a rule, an enlivening person. He is a dealer in
-extremities—to him a birth or a death is merely a matter of so many
-words written upon a page, and a marriage is no greater affair than a
-union of two people brought together for the purpose of providing him
-with subjects for his more serious offices.
-
-The particular registrar who was responsible for making Wynne and Eve
-man and wife was no exception to the rule. He proved to be a man of
-boundless melancholy, who recited the necessary passages with a gloom of
-intonation better befitting a burial than a bridal. His distress was
-acute in that they had failed to import the required witnesses—and,
-indeed, at one time he seemed disposed to deny them the privileges of
-his powers. The apartment in which the ceremony took place smelt
-disagreeably from lack of ventilation, and the newly-wed pair were
-thankful to come into the sunshine of the street outside.
-
-So great was the oppression produced that neither one nor the other felt
-capable of saying a word, and it was only by a mighty effort Wynne was
-able to say:
-
-“We’re married.”
-
-Eve pressed his hand, and nodded.
-
-“Rather beastly, wasn’t it?”
-
-She nodded again.
-
-“Doesn’t seem very real, does it?”
-
-And she replied, “Would you kiss me just to make it seem more real?”
-
-Rather awkwardly he stooped and brushed her cheek with a kiss.
-
-“Better?” he said.
-
-“A bit.”
-
-He began to speak rather fast:
-
-“After all, what’s it matter? This is only the beginning. We’ll count
-today as any other day—a working day. I’m no more to you—or you to
-me—beyond the sharing of a single name and a single roof. We won’t
-spoil our future by any foretaste of its good. Do you agree?”
-
-“I agree.”
-
-“Then shake hands, partner.”
-
-“God bless you and let you win,” said Eve, as she laid her hand on his.
-
-By the doors of the British Museum they nodded a temporary farewell. He
-entered and made his way to the reading-room, and she walked home alone.
-
-
- III
-
-The moonlight streamed through the slanting window, pitching a dim ray
-upon Wynne as he lay asleep.
-
-It was dark in the lonely corner, on the far side of the room, where,
-very faintly, the outline of a slim white figure could be seen—a figure
-hugging her knees and resting her chin upon them. Very quiet it
-was—just the rise and fall of a man’s breathing and the muted, humming
-noises of the night.
-
-The clocks of the City coughed and jarred the hour of three.
-
-Presently the still white figure moved, and, bare-footed, crossed the
-floor between the two beds. For a little while she stood looking down
-upon the sleeping man; then, in answer to a human impulse too gentle,
-and yet too strong to be denied, stooped and laid her head beside his
-upon the pillow. Her breath was warm upon his cheek, but he made no
-movement; her hair tressed upon his arm, but it did not quicken to life
-and fold around her, as a husband’s might; her lips were almost touching
-his, but he did not move that they might meet in the darkness.
-
-With a little catch in her throat Eve lifted herself and crossed to the
-lonely shadows beneath the sloping roof.
-
-
- IV
-
-“May I read these?” asked Eve.
-
-She had unearthed a box full of old manuscripts he had written and cast
-aside.
-
-“Burn ’em, if you like,” he replied.
-
-She chose one from the pile, saying:
-
-“Have they been sent anywhere?”
-
-“Oh yes, a few have been the round. They are true to the boomerang type,
-for they always returned to the point of departure.”
-
-She curled herself in the big armchair and began to read. The breakfast
-things had been washed up, the beds made, and the rooms tidied.
-
-It was an article she had chosen, and the subject was “Education.” Wynne
-had a singularly marked style of his own—his sentences were crisp and
-incisive, his views original and striking. When he chose he could write
-with a degree of tenderness that was infinitely appealing; but in odd
-contrast to this mood, and usually in immediate proximity to his most
-happy expressed phrases, occurred passages of satire and mordant wit
-which detracted immeasurably from the charm of the whole. They stood out
-like blots upon the page.
-
-The same conditions prevailed in each of the other manuscripts which Eve
-read, with the result that the fine susceptibilities which had been
-awakened by his best, were wounded by the ill-humour of his worst.
-
-“Why do you give all the butterflies stings?” she asked.
-
-The question pleased him, and he smiled.
-
-“Why not? Aren’t they mostly well deserved?”
-
-“By whom?”
-
-“The public.”
-
-She had it in mind to say that it was not the public who felt the sting,
-but, instead, she replied:
-
-“May I copy these out?”
-
-“If you like.”
-
-She did, and, with certain reservations and omissions, dispatched them
-to the kind of periodical which might be interested.
-
-Three weeks later a letter arrived from _The Forum_ accepting the essay
-on Education. “Payment of ten guineas will be made on publication,” said
-the letter.
-
-“But they refused it before!” exclaimed Wynne.
-
-“I made a few cuts, and altered it a little.”
-
-His forehead flew into straight creases.
-
-“Where? What did you cut?”
-
-She showed him.
-
-He shook his head and paced up and down the room. “Heavens above!” he
-reproached. “Those were the best passages.”
-
-“They weren’t. They were bad, and destructive.”
-
-“Revolutionary, if you like.”
-
-“The wrong sort of revolution.”
-
-“Not at all. I wrote them with a purpose.”
-
-“Then the purpose was wrong.”
-
-“Thank God you cut them and not I. I should esteem myself a coward if I
-had done that.”
-
-“I don’t. You will never heal by throwing vitriol.”
-
-Wynne’s tenacity was tremendous, and he fought for every inch of ground
-before conceding it. The lesson, however, did him good, and thereafter,
-if not always with the best grace, he submitted his writings to her for
-approval.
-
-Eve had a very sure literary sense, and her criticisms were as just as
-they were courageous. Wynne could never gauge to what extent a reader
-will allow the scourge of wit to fall upon his shoulders, but Eve, by
-some peculiar insight of her own, knew this to a nicety, and little by
-little forced him to her way of seeing.
-
-As his writings began to be accepted he came to a silent acknowledgment
-of the value of her decisions, and, subconsciously, his mind, in certain
-directions, ran parallel with hers. By his sharp acquisitive sense he
-came to know how she arrived at her reasoning, and in learning this, the
-necessity to appeal to her diminished correspondingly. Once an idea was
-firmly implanted it became a part of his being, and very soon his pen
-lost its jagged edge and ran more smoothly over the pages.
-
-For nearly a year the partners worked together, each in their separate
-spheres, to the common end of success.
-
-That his mind might go free and unworried wheresoever it willed, Eve
-cooked and darned, and kept his house in order. It was a grey enough
-life, with little to raise it from the ruck of sordid domesticity. To
-all intent and purpose she was a general servant, privileged at rare
-intervals to wash her hands, sit at her master’s table and share his
-speech. Her reward was to hear an echo of some of her sweetness in his
-writings, and to see the results of her gentle care in his looks and
-bearing.
-
-He had more colour, his step was springier than in the days before they
-had met, and this added vitality he converted into longer hours of
-labour. He never spared himself or relaxed, and his tireless energy,
-perseverance, and concentration were abnormal. Except when he needed her
-advice he appeared to be wholly detached, and scarcely aware of her
-presence. The cramped conditions in which they lived made it very
-difficult for Eve to conduct her household duties without disturbing
-him. He was very sensitive and exacting, and the sound of a rattled
-teacup would throw him out of line. Not the least of Eve’s achievement
-was the manner in which she contrived to do everything that was needful
-without disturbance, and at the same time to be ever ready to lay all
-aside in case he should want her.
-
-A man will always give or find occupation for a woman, and in some small
-way or another the whole of Eve’s time was taken up in meeting his needs
-and wishes. She was obliged to forego many of the happy book hours she
-used to spend in order that the wheels could run smoothly and silently.
-This in itself was a very great sacrifice, for she had loved her
-reading, and grubbing with pots and pans, or bargaining with tradesfolk,
-was a sorry substitute.
-
-“But it’s only for a while,” she comforted herself. “One day—” and her
-thoughts floated out to the sun-lit hills and the sweeping purple
-heather of the moors.
-
-
- V
-
-One evening Wynne arrived home and announced that he had left the stage.
-
-“I am going to write a play,” he said, “and I shall want all my time.”
-
-He had not taken into consideration that with the loss of his theatre
-salary their finances would be seriously crippled. Of late there had
-been rather more money than usual, and Eve had entertained the hope of
-engaging a maid to come in and do the rougher work, but with this
-announcement that happy prospect took immediate wings.
-
-A play would certainly take several weeks to write, and probably months
-or even years to place. In the meantime there were three or four
-outstanding sales of stories and articles which would realize a total of
-thirty or forty pounds.
-
-Yet, although these considerations arose very clearly in Eve’s mind, she
-only nodded and expressed enthusiasm for the idea.
-
-And so, with a great deal of energy and intention, Wynne attacked the
-play, and Eve rolled up her sleeves and washed the greasy plates, and
-blacked the stove and cooked the meals, and did the meagre housekeeping,
-and many things she liked not, on little more than nothing a week. It
-was strenuous work, but she carried it out cheerfully and
-unostentatiously, and contrived to provide enough to keep his mind from
-being worried with sordid considerations.
-
-Sometimes—not so often as she wished—he read what he had written, and
-they talked over the human considerations that go to make a play. He
-himself was most enthusiastic about the work, and to a great extent she
-shared his belief. There was, however, a certain chilliness in his lines
-and expressed thoughts, which by the gentlest tact she strove to warm.
-
-It was a delicate enough operation in all conscience, for there is no
-machinery more difficult to guide than an artist’s mind, and none that
-demands overhaul more constantly. Hers was the task of tightening the
-bolts of a moving vehicle—one attended with grave risks to the
-mechanic. She took her satisfaction after the manner of a mechanic, by
-noting the smoother running and more even purr of the machine.
-
-As they had determined upon their wedding day, the physical, and even
-the spiritual, side of their union was in abeyance. Of sweet intimacies
-and gentle understandings there were none. It was the work first, the
-work last, and the work which took precedence to all.
-
-For Eve it was a lonely life—a life of unceasing mental and manual
-exercise. She strove with head and hand that his spirit might talk with
-posterity.
-
-Sometimes there were knocks, but she took them bravely, looking always
-to the future to repay.
-
-One morning in the early summer Wynne fretfully threw down his pen.
-
-The whitey-gold sunshine was calling of bluebell woods and cloud shadows
-racing over the downs.
-
-“I must get out,” he said—“out in the fields somewhere.”
-
-Eve filled her lungs expectantly.
-
-“Let’s go to Richmond,” she said. “Do you remember the first night I
-came back, and we said we’d go there one day and eat apple turnovers on
-the way home?”
-
-“Yes, oh yes.”
-
-“It’ud be gorgeous to have some fresh air, and we could make plans
-and—”
-
-“Yes, but not today. I want to think today—I should be better alone.”
-
-It was foolish to be hurt, and gently she answered:
-
-“I shouldn’t stop you thinking.”
-
-“Some other day, then. This morning I’ll go alone. That last act is
-bothering me. I shall bring back a fierce hunger for you to appease.”
-
-That was all. He reached for his hat and walked to the door. As he laid
-his hand on the knob she said:
-
-“Think of me bending over the gas-ring, Wynne.”
-
-He turned and looked queerly at her without replying. The angle of her
-speech was new and unexpected. Then his cleverness suggested:
-
-“I shall think of you as you’ll look when our honeymoon begins.”
-
-In an instant she was disarmed and had stretched out a friendly hand.
-
-“I wanted to be level with the future for one day,” she said. “Out in
-the fields we are as rich as we shall ever be.”
-
-He nodded.
-
-“The leaves would be no greener if all fame were ours,” he answered; and
-added, “but they’d seem greener. Come, if you like.”
-
-“No, I’ll stay.”
-
-She gave his hand a small pressure. He looked down on it as it lay in
-his palm. There was dirt upon her fingers from the scouring of pots and
-pans. As he noted this he laughed shortly.
-
-“We must employ a Court manicurist when our Day dawns,” he said. “I
-could not worship a queen whose hands were soiled. Expect me about six.”
-
-He closed the door behind him.
-
-Who can pretend to fathom the deeps of a woman’s mind. Long after he had
-gone, Eve stood looking at her hands with solemn, frightened eyes.
-
-
- VI
-
-The manner of Wynne Rendall’s coming into prominence was fortuitous. It
-happened a little over two years after his marriage, and, broadly
-speaking, was engineered by Eve.
-
-As a result of some unexpected sales to American publishers a few extra
-pounds slipped through the lodging letter-box, and Eve insisted he
-should spend some of these in joining a club of good standing.
-
-“You’ve been in the dark too long, Wynne. A writer of plays must be
-known by the people who produce them, by the better actors and critics.
-They must get used to seeing you before they will believe in you.”
-
-He raised no opposition to the idea. Of late he had felt cabined and
-confined, and the thought of broader horizons appealed to him.
-
-“Uncle Clem would put you up for the Phœnician, wouldn’t he?”
-
-Wynne shook his head irritably.
-
-“I’m not disposed to ask favours of Uncle Clem,” he replied.
-
-“Why not?”
-
-“It was evident enough he disapproved of my mode of life when last we
-met. It will be time to ask him to do things for me when he approves.
-Besides, there’s no need. A cousin of my mother’s is a member—I’ll ask
-him.”
-
-“Does he approve of your mode of life?”
-
-“Probably not; but, since I have no interest in him one way or the
-other, it doesn’t matter. The man is rich and a fool.”
-
-“I didn’t know you had a rich cousin.”
-
-“It isn’t a thing to boast about. I rather believe I have a moderately
-rich father and mother somewhere—still it can’t be helped.”
-
-“Do you know,” said Eve, “you have never mentioned them before.”
-
-“I don’t know what persuaded me to do so at all.”
-
-“Tell me about them.”
-
-“Nothing to tell. They wanted me to accept a sound commercial
-position—whatever that may mean; in declining to do so I forfeited my
-birthright, and sacrificed my immortal soul to the flames.”
-
-“Did you run away?”
-
-“I walked away. They were too slow to render running a necessity.”
-
-“I think you are rather callous,” said Eve.
-
-“Surely to God you don’t expect me to take off my hat, like a music-hall
-serio, when I speak of Home and Mother.”
-
-“No, that would be rather silly—still—”
-
-“One must judge the value of things and persons on two counts—their
-service and their effect. If their service is negligible, and they
-produce no effect, it is clearly useless to have any further dealings
-with them.”
-
-“I don’t like that,” said Eve. “It’s a cold philosophy. You sponge the
-wine from the cellars and complain when the vats are empty.”
-
-“I don’t complain—I pass on. One must, or die of thirst.”
-
-“It is a false thirst.”
-
-“That doesn’t matter so long as one feels it acutely.”
-
-She generally allowed him the luxury of supplying the phrase to round
-off an argument. It is a tribute to the gallantry of women that they
-will allow the vanquished to feel he is the victor, and as true of the
-best of them as the popular belief to the contrary is false.
-
-Wynne joined the Phœnician, and after a while came to spend much of his
-time there. It made, he said, a change from the never-ending sameness of
-their penny-threefarthing home.
-
-It was so long since he had foregathered with fellow-men that at first
-he spent his club hours in shy silence. He would sit, ostensibly reading
-a periodical, and actually listening to the conversation of those about
-him. In so doing he learnt many things in regard to the subjects which
-men will discuss one with another. The Phœnician was to a great extent a
-rabble club. The members were composed of professional men—artists,
-writers, actors, and those curious individuals who form a tail-light to
-the arts, being bracketed on as a kind of chorus. These latter always
-appeared to be well provided with money and ill provided with brains.
-They knew the names of many stage people, and reeled them off one after
-another as a parrot delivers its limited vocabulary. Seemingly they
-derived much pleasure from the practice, and their happiest
-conversational circumstance was to mention some one whose name they had
-never introduced before.
-
-Wynne made unto himself an enemy of this section of the rabble by a
-chance remark on an occasion when he happened to be in their midst.
-
-“I suppose,” he said, “you collect names as more intellectual folk
-collect cigar bands.”
-
-As invariably was the case he was rather pleased with himself for
-producing this remark. It suggested a line of thought, and shortly
-afterwards he produced an article entitled “Men and their Talk.” The
-article, which boasted a lemon wit, appeared in the _Monday Review_, and
-offended many people.
-
-“The average man,” he wrote, “has but four topics of conversation which
-he considers worthy of discussion. 1. His relation to other men’s wives.
-2. His prowess at sport. 3. The names of restaurants at which he would
-have us believe he dines. 4. His capacity for consuming liquor. Of these
-subjects Nos. 1 and 4 are usually taken in conjunction. Thus, before we
-are privileged to hear the more intimate passages of his amours, we are
-obliged to follow the assuaging of his thirst from double cocktail to
-treble liqueur. A nice balance in self-satisfaction is proved by a man’s
-pride in what he drinks and how he loves.” Then, in another paragraph:
-“The average man is not proud of resisting the temptations of the flesh,
-but is always proud of yielding to them. Whenever men are gathered
-together you will hear them speak in admiration of what our moral code
-forbids, but you will not hear them boast of their fidelity. Many a
-faithful husband lies of infidelity that he may stand even with his
-fellows.”
-
-Of all the criticisms provoked by this article Wynne was best pleased by
-one from a brother member, who announced that it was “an infernal breach
-of confidence.”
-
-The club made serious inroads on Wynne’s finances, for no matter how
-abstemious a man may be, he cannot rub shoulders with his own kind
-without a certain amount of wear on his pocket linings. In consequence,
-Eve was obliged to cut things very fine and forego every atom of
-personal expenditure.
-
-Possibly because he had had such small dealings with money, Wynne was
-not a generous giver. In these days he disbursed less toward the
-household account than ever before, but did not expect less to appear
-upon the table on this account. Neither did he expect Eve to appear
-before him in dresses which had lost all pretentions to attractiveness.
-Sometimes he would remark:
-
-“When on earth are you going to throw away that dreadful old garment?”
-
-The artistic mind is apt to be unreasonable in its demands—a
-circumstance which Eve was obliged to keep very much before her eyes if
-she would stay the tear which sought to rise there.
-
-
- VII
-
-It was some months before the club yielded a practical return.
-
-Wynne was seated in the hollow of a deep leather chair, and he overheard
-two men talking. One was Max Levis, London’s newest impresario, and the
-other Leonard Passmore, a producer of some standing, whose methods Wynne
-disapproved of very heartily.
-
-“You’ve read the play?” queried Levis.
-
-“Yes. I should say it was a certainty.”
-
-“Thought you would—that’s capital! Wanted your opinion before writing
-to Quiltan.”
-
-Wynne knew Quiltan by reputation. His Oxford verses had caused a stir,
-and the rare appearances of his articles were hailed enthusiastically by
-press and public alike. Lane Quiltan besides being gifted, was
-exceedingly well off—a reason, perhaps, for his small literary output.
-
-Max Levis played with the pages of a manuscript copy of the play.
-
-“Formed any views regarding the production?” he asked.
-
-Mr. Passmore had formed many views, and proceeded to expound them at
-some length. He held forth for the best part of half an hour, while
-Wynne, from the screen of his chair, silently scorned every word he
-uttered.
-
-“God!” he thought, “and these are the men who cater art to the nation!”
-
-Presently the two men rose and walked toward the dining-room, heavy in
-talk. On the small table beside where they had sat lay the copy of the
-play. As the swing doors closed behind them Wynne picked it up and
-started to read.
-
-Messrs. Levis and Passmore stayed long at their meat, and Wynne had read
-the play from cover to cover before they returned.
-
-It was not often his heart went out to a contemporary’s work, but this
-was an exception. What he read filled him with delight, envy, and
-admiration. “Witches”—for so the play was called—possessed the rarest
-quality. There was wit, imagination, and satire, and it was written with
-that effortless ease at which all true artists should aim.
-
-As he laid the copy back on the small table Wynne gave vent to an
-exclamation of indignant resentment, provoked by memories of the
-proposals Passmore had made in regard to the manner in which he proposed
-to interpret the work. Here was a thing of real artistic beauty, which
-was to be subjected to commercial mutilation by a cross-grained fool who
-had made a reputation by massing crowds in such positions that the
-centre of the stage was clear for the principals.
-
-His feelings toward Mr. Passmore were not improved when that gentleman
-and Mr. Levis reoccupied their former chairs, and, warmed by wine,
-started to discuss their mutual follies.
-
-With silent irritation Wynne rose and left the club. He arrived home
-about nine o’clock, where he inveighed against managers and producers,
-and the dunces who dance in high places. In the course of the tirade he
-explained the cause of his anger.
-
-“There’s a real thing—and it’s good and right, and cram-jam full of
-exquisite possibilities. Those idiots haven’t begun to understand
-it—are blind to its beauty—haven’t a notion how good it is. In God’s
-name, why don’t they let me produce the thing?”
-
-Then Eve had an inspiration which sent Wynne forth into the night, and
-found him, twenty minutes later, ringing the bell of a house in Clarges
-Street.
-
-Taking into consideration the clothes he wore, and his general look of
-dilapidation, his attitude when the door was opened by an important
-footman was praiseworthy and remarkable.
-
-He simply said “Thank you,” and stepped into the hall. Then he removed
-his hat and gave it to the man, saying, “Mr. Wynne Rendall.” The bluff
-resulted in his being ushered into a drawing-room, in which were a
-number of ladies and gentlemen.
-
-“It is always easy to recognize one’s host in a mixed gathering,
-provided he does not know you,” commented Wynne, as the door closed,
-“for he is the person whose face betrays the greatest perplexity. How do
-you do, Mr. Quiltan?”
-
-Lane Quiltan shook hands doubtfully, but not without interest. Out of
-politeness he said:
-
-“I seem to know your name.”
-
-“That’s unlikely,” replied Wynne, “for I have been at some pains to keep
-it in the background. One of these days, however, you will know it very
-much better.”
-
-“Did you come here to tell me so?”
-
-“Not altogether, although in a sense it is mixed up with my visit. To be
-frank, I came in the hope of finding you alone. Still, I suppose later
-on you will be.” He smiled engagingly.
-
-Quiltan scarcely knew whether to be annoyed or amused. In deference to
-his guests, he chose the latter alternative.
-
-“You seem to be an unconventional man, Mr. Rendall,” he laughed.
-
-“Come, I had not looked for a compliment so soon; but perhaps you use
-the term correctively?”
-
-“It is just possible, isn’t it?”
-
-“And yet my conduct is nothing like so unconventional as the central
-character in ‘Witches’”—a remark which startled from Lane Quiltan:
-“What on earth do you know about ‘Witches’?”
-
-Wynne smiled agreeably.
-
-“I have relations of my own.”
-
-“Doubtless, but I _would_ like an answer to my question.”
-
-He did not get it, for Wynne only repeated the smile, with a shade more
-satisfaction.
-
-“I fear,” he said, “our conversation is proving very tiresome to your
-friends. Shall we talk in another room?”
-
-“Extraordinary creature!” gasped a very splendid lady seated at the
-grand piano.
-
-“It is what every one will be saying shortly,” returned Wynne, and won a
-laugh for the readiness of his wit.
-
-“I suppose, Lane,” assumed a man who was airing the tails of his
-dress-coat before the fire—“I suppose we ought to take the hint and
-depart, but your friend is so devilish amusing I vote in favour of
-remaining.”
-
-“Sir,” said Wynne, with very great solemnity, “if I vow to be devilish
-dull, will you in return vote in favour of going?” The laugh came his
-way again; and he proceeded, “I make the suggestion with the most
-generous motives, for if you remain with your coat-tails so perilously
-near the flame we shall be constrained to the inevitable necessity of
-putting you out.”
-
-A youngish man, who was sitting in a corner, rose and shook the creases
-from his trousers and glanced at the clock.
-
-“I at least have to go,” he said.
-
-“You needn’t hurry away!”
-
-Wynne touched Quiltan on the arm. “Never stay a pioneer,” he implored.
-“‘For the rest shall follow after by the bones upon the way,’ to quote
-Kipling.”
-
-Ten minutes after his arrival he had cleared the room completely. The
-guests departed without apparent resentment: indeed, one lady gave Wynne
-her card, and said, “You positively must come and be amusing at one of
-my Thursdays.”
-
-Quiltan was wearing an expression of some annoyance when he returned
-after bidding farewell to the last of the company.
-
-“It is all very well,” he said; “but what precisely do you want?”
-
-Before answering Wynne took an easy inspection of the man before him.
-
-Lane Quiltan was tall, well built, and very pleasant to look upon. His
-features were attractive and regular, his voice and expression were
-compelling of confidence. At a glance Wynne summed him up as a “good
-fellow, and a good deal more.”
-
-“Well?” said Quiltan.
-
-“Primarily I have succeeded in doing what I wanted, and that was to
-convince you that I am no ordinary man. Secondly, I want to produce your
-play, ‘Witches,’ and if you will ask me to sit down for a minute I shall
-prove beyond argument why I am the only person who can do it justice.”
-
-Lane Quiltan gestured Wynne to a chair, and seated himself.
-
-“Fire away!” he said; “but I am afraid your chances are small. The play
-is already in the hands of Max Levis.”
-
-“I know.”
-
-“You seem pretty well acquainted with my affairs.”
-
-“On the contrary, I know nothing about them. I knew Levis had the play,
-because I borrowed his copy without permission while the fellow was
-feeding.”
-
-“Do you generally do things like that?”
-
-“I have no general practices. I act as the inclination suggests. In this
-case it is fortunate for both of us that I did.”
-
-“For both of us?”
-
-“Certainly, for I _mean_ to produce ‘Witches.’”
-
-Quiltan laughed.
-
-“At least you are persistent,” he said.
-
-“I am, and you are not. You take things too easily, because you’ve all
-this”—he made an embracing gesture. “You are too sure, Mr. Quiltan, I
-know. You write this play and direct it to Max Levis, and then, because
-fame and money are merely accessories in your life, you take no further
-interest in the matter.”
-
-“How do you arrive at that conclusion?”
-
-“Simply enough. Why did you send the play to Levis? Do you admire his
-work so inordinately?”
-
-“I know very little about him.”
-
-“Exactly. Would you hand over a best child to be taught by some one who
-might be an idiot for all you knew? Two years ago Max Levis was a
-diamond buyer—what the devil should he know about plays?”
-
-“He engages competent people to produce them.”
-
-“And takes forty per cent. for doing so. Do you consider he is more
-qualified to engage competent people than you are?”
-
-“I have never thought about it.”
-
-“Then think about it now. Don’t spoil a fine work through artistic
-slackness and drift.”
-
-“I like your enthusiasm.”
-
-“You’d like my production better. Now, look here, I overheard Levis
-talking to Leonard Passmore about your play tonight. These are some of
-Passmore’s ideas. Tell me if you like ’em.”
-
-Word for word he repeated the conversation of a couple of hours before.
-
-“Were those your intentions, Mr. Quiltan?”
-
-“No, not exactly.”
-
-“What were?”
-
-“I’m not a producer.”
-
-“Of course you are not. You’re an author, and an author never knows
-where the good or bad in his own work lies. Your work is shining
-good—if the good can be brought out,—and you’d entrust it, without a
-thought, to a couple of merchants, with no more artistry or selection
-between ’em than a provincial auctioneer. Let me produce the play, and
-I’ll give you this—”
-
-There was something dazzling in the sparkle of thoughts Wynne gave voice
-to as he discussed the possibilities of the play. He seemed to have
-grasped its living essence, and to have impregnated it with a spirit of
-higher worth than even the author had believed possible.
-
-“And you could do that?”
-
-“I can always do as I feel.”
-
-Quiltan rose and paced the room excitedly.
-
-“I believe in you,” he said. “I favour this co-operation. But what’d
-Levis say? He’d stick out for his own man.”
-
-“Good heavens! What do you want with Levis? Back the venture yourself.”
-
-“I—but—”
-
-“God knows you’ve money enough.”
-
-“I know nothing about theatres.”
-
-“I know plenty.”
-
-Quiltan paused and bit his forefinger.
-
-“Take a theatre and do it ourselves?” he queried.
-
-“Why not?”
-
-“By the Lord, why not indeed! It ’ud be tremendous fun.”
-
-“It ’ud be tremendous earnest.”
-
-“Either way, I’m game.”
-
-“Settled, then?”
-
-“Yes, it’s settled.”
-
-Wynne stood himself a cab from Clarges Street at three o’clock in the
-morning. He looked ten years younger as he burst into the room where Eve
-was waiting up for him.
-
-“I’ve done it!” he cried. “I’ve done it! I’m on the road upward at
-last.”
-
-
- VIII
-
-Wynne was extraordinarily full of himself in the days which followed.
-Day and night he worked with feverish energy on schemes for the play. He
-went out and came in at all hours. In his excitement he entirely ignored
-Eve’s presence, except when he appealed to her on some delicate point
-dealing with the attitude of the women characters. Having secured what
-he wanted he would wave aside further discussion and plunge afresh into
-his thought-packed aloneness.
-
-Once he jerked out the information that he was to receive a hundred
-pounds for the production and ten per cent. profits during the run of
-the piece.
-
-“I’ve engaged the cast and we shall arrange about the theatre in a day
-or two. Here, read that speech aloud—I want to hear what it sounds like
-in a woman’s voice. Yes, that’s it. Thanks! That’s all I want to know.
-You read it quite right. I believe you could have acted! Is there
-something to eat ready? I’m going out in ten minutes.”
-
-“It won’t be long.”
-
-“Quick as you can, then.”
-
-As she laid the cloth, Eve ventured to say: “Don’t you think we might
-have a maid to do the grubby work? It would give me more time to help
-you.”
-
-He seemed absorbed.
-
-“Yes, all right. Some day. You do everything I want, though.”
-
-“Yes, but—”
-
-“Is that lunch ready?”
-
-Some clothes arrived for him a few days later, and for the first time
-Eve saw her husband well clad. The build of them gave an added manliness
-to his slender figure.
-
-The business of taking a theatre being successfully accomplished, Wynne
-assumed instantly the guise of a commander-in-chief. He spoke with an
-air of finality on all subjects, and wrapped himself in a kind of
-remoteness not infrequently to be observed in actor-managers.
-
-Oddly enough, his new importance possessed Eve with a desire to laugh
-and ruffle his hair. Had he taken himself less seriously she would have
-done so.
-
-Once she asked if he would not like to give her a part in the play.
-
-“Heavens alive!” he said, “I’m pestered the day long with people who
-want engagements. Spare me from it at home.”
-
-It was hardly a graceful speech, but it demonstrated his frame of mind
-with some accuracy. Perhaps he realized the remark was churlish, for he
-followed it with another:
-
-“Besides, you’ll have plenty to do. We’re going to get out of this. I
-took a flat this afternoon.”
-
-“Without saying a word to me?”
-
-“I said all that was needed to the agent.”
-
-“Yet you might have mentioned it.”
-
-“I was busy. After all, it only requires one person to take a flat.
-There, that’s the address. Fix up moving in as soon as you can.”
-
-Eve picked up the slip of paper he had dropped into her lap. Despite her
-disappointment she felt a thrill of excitement at the news:
-
-“How many rooms are there?”
-
-“Oh, four or five—a bedroom for each of us—I forget the number. Have a
-look at it in the morning.”
-
-“We shall want carpets and some more furniture.”
-
-“Yes, but that can wait—can’t it?”
-
-Take away the joy of planning from a woman and you rob the safe of half
-its treasure.
-
-
- IX
-
-There was no room in Wynne’s mind for further discussion. It was fully
-occupied with his great advertisement scheme, which, in a few days’
-time, would fling his name upon every newspaper and hoarding in the
-metropolis. He had no intention of allowing his share in the production
-to lack prominence. The name Wynne Rendall was to take precedence of all
-other consideration in his campaign.
-
-“The public is to take this play through me,” he announced, “and me they
-shall have in large doses.”
-
-Eve visited the flat alone, and made what arrangements were needful for
-moving their few belongings. It was a sunny little flat, and with
-adequate appointments would have looked very charming. The small amount
-of furniture they possessed, however, seemed painfully inadequate spread
-over the various rooms.
-
-On the day of the move she worked like a galley-slave to put the place
-in agreeable order. She felt somehow that it was a great occasion, and
-that when Wynne returned from the theatre he would feel likewise.
-Together, perhaps, they would have a glorious talk about their nearing
-future, and a little house-warming of two.
-
-But she was disappointed, for Wynne made no comment when he came in.
-
-“My posters are out,” he cried. “Have you seen ’em?”
-
-She shook her head.
-
-“I haven’t had a chance. I’ve been busy here all day getting straight.”
-
-She looked tired and rather grubby—her hair was tumbled, and her hands
-patched with floor-stain. For some reason her untidiness irritated
-Wynne. The girls at the theatre were smart and fresh, and their clothes
-were pleasant to see. A man expects his wife to be always at her best.
-
-“Um!” he remarked. “You look in rather a pickle.” His eyes wandered
-round the room: “Seems very bare, doesn’t it?”
-
-It seemed bare to her, too, but she would have taken it kindly if he had
-not said so.
-
-“With some curtains it would be better—and a few more chairs.”
-
-“Yes. Still, it’s the address that matters at the moment. The rest can
-wait till we see how the play goes. Just now I need all the money I can
-get for my own pocket. It’s essential. It’s bare and uncomfortable; but
-I have the club, so it doesn’t really matter.”
-
-“I haven’t a club,” flashed Eve, and repented the words almost before
-she had spoken them.
-
-Wynne looked at her fixedly.
-
-“Lord!” he exclaimed, “we are not going to start that sort of thing, are
-we?”
-
-Something in the quality of his voice struck her with startling force.
-It was so much more a “married” tone than she remembered to have heard
-before. The petulant child note had disappeared, and with its
-disappearance the mother note in her own voice wrapped itself up in
-sudden hardness.
-
-She held his eyes with hers.
-
-“I bargained for a share,” she said. “Am I getting it?”
-
-He wilted, and his head tossed from side to side.
-
-“What is all this about?”
-
-“Am I getting my share?” repeated Eve, more kindly. “You know if I am.
-Answer ‘Yes,’ if you honestly think so.”
-
-“I’m tired,” he countered.
-
-“Not too tired to say ‘Yes.’”
-
-“Oh, very well! If you want furniture and things, buy them. I rather
-thought you could see deeper than that. Still, if you—”
-
-“Stop! Don’t say any more—please don’t.” She pressed her hand quickly
-and nervously to her lips; then, with a half-laugh, “Oh, how silly I am;
-but you frightened me. You—you were laughing, Wynne, when you said
-that—weren’t you?”
-
-He looked at her perplexed, and saw she was in deadly earnest.
-
-“Oh, yes,” he answered. “I was laughing—’course I was.”
-
-But to tell the truth, Wynne Rendall, Master of Psychology, was sorely
-out of his depth.
-
-“That’s all right,” said Eve, and crossed to the little fireplace, where
-she stood awhile thinking. “I’ll fetch your dinner now.”
-
-She laid the cloth and placed the dishes upon it. There was an
-awkwardness between them as they took their places, and very little
-disposition to talk. Wynne’s thoughts were mixed with wondering at her
-attitude and with intentions for the play. Hers were back to the
-birthday party of nearly three years before. It had been a night so full
-of promise. Everything had seemed so likely then. Then it had seemed
-good that the love and sunshine for which her spirit prayed should be
-rendered on the deferred payment system. Was it possible those goods
-would be outworn before the debt was discharged? She shivered and looked
-up under her lids at Wynne. He had changed so much; he seemed
-bigger—more like a man! The frail boy body and restless spirit were no
-longer upon the surface. He looked to have more ballast—to stand more
-firmly as a man among men.
-
-His voice broke in upon her thoughts:
-
-“You’re extraordinarily mine, aren’t you?”
-
-“Yes,” she nodded, and after a pause, “are you glad?”
-
-He did not give a direct answer.
-
-“You should know. Look! small wife, this is a between-while with us, and
-I want you to sympathize with the position. I’m all out to win—and I
-shall win—but I haven’t won yet. Until I do it isn’t possible for us to
-stand side by side. There’s barely enough to keep one afloat, and that
-one must be myself. You admit that, don’t you? I’m meeting all sorts of
-alleged big-wigs, and I must meet ’em level. As things are it is only
-just possible to do so. To raise the scale at one side, t’other must be
-kept down. But it won’t be for long, and afterwards it will be you and
-I—understand.”
-
-“Of course I do.”
-
-“Keep on helping, then, all you can.”
-
-“Of course I will.”
-
-“That’s all right.”
-
-And so the best of us fulfil our obligations and justify our
-consciences.
-
-
- X
-
-Eve sat by herself in the second row of the stalls. Her eyes were
-glorious with hope. On her lap lay the program of the piece, with
-Wynne’s name ringing from the page.
-
-The printing was a stupendous piece of self-sufficiency. She had noted,
-half-fearful, half-amused, the hum of conversation which had gone round
-the theatre as the audience noted the persistent large-type booming of a
-single unknown personality.
-
-“This young man is taking responsibilities upon his shoulders,” observed
-one newspaper critic to another.
-
-The other smiled sardonically. Already he was tasting in anticipation
-several phrases he proposed to level against Mr. Wynne Rendall.
-
-“But who is he anyway?” seemed to arise from the general buzz of voices.
-
-From where she sat Eve could see the profile of Lane Quiltan. His box
-seemed very full—a circumstance which made her glad, for Wynne had
-refused to offer her a seat there. “He won’t want to be bothered with
-introductions on a first night; besides, there are lots of people who
-must be invited. I want you to be in the body of the house and feel the
-pulse of the audience.”
-
-So it came about she was alone with none to talk with, and none to
-admire the pretty frock she wore.
-
-It had not occurred to Wynne she would want a dress for his first
-night—she had not expected that it would; but, nevertheless, she was
-beautifully clad.
-
-The possession of the evening dress and a wrap marked her first
-deliberate step toward rebellion. She had ordered it from a first-class
-West End dress-maker.
-
-“Send the bill to Mr. Wynne Rendall at the Vandyke Theatre,” she had
-said.
-
-Never before had Eve possessed so sweet a frock, and the touch of it
-sent a pleasurable thrill through her body. When she had finished
-dressing, every vestige of the drab, houseworking little figure had been
-transformed into a simple expression of fragile and delicious womanhood.
-Very gloriously she had felt this to be so as she stood before the
-mirror waiting for Wynne to return and take her to the theatre.
-
-But he did not return. A messenger boy came instead, with a scribbled
-note asking for his “dress things, as I shan’t have time to get back
-before the play begins.”
-
-Thus Eve was denied even a moment to wish him well, and took her stall
-unnoticed and alone.
-
-As she looked at Lane Quiltan’s profile she wondered how he felt at
-being forced to take a second place to Wynne in every point of
-prominence. For some reason she conceived that he would not be troubled
-over-much. There was a repose and stability in his looks which suggested
-a mental balance not easily disturbed by small-weight issues.
-
-At long range she liked and felt the wish to know him better.
-
-“Steadfast, substantial,” she reasoned; “very unlike Wynne. He is hoping
-for the success of the play, not of himself. He won’t mind sacrificing
-himself to get it.”
-
-It came to her that both she and Quiltan were contributing their share
-toward the making of Wynne Rendall, and both she and Quiltan were being
-left a little behind in the doing of it.
-
-The curtain rose, and half an hour later Eve knew that Wynne had made
-good all he boasted he would do—and more. The spirit of the play shone
-through the lines with a truth of definition that was truly remarkable.
-The values of the human emotions portrayed were perfect. It was an
-example of the purest artistry and the surest perception. Not an idea
-was blurred—not an inflection out of place. Through an infinity of
-natural detail, rendered with mirrored exactitude, ran the soul and
-intention of the play, like the dominant theme of a great orchestral
-fugue. Even the veriest tyro in matters dramatic realized that no mere
-assembly of actors and actresses, however brilliant, could have achieved
-so faultless an effect without a master hand to guide them. What Wynne
-had learnt in the Paris ateliers years before he had set upon the stage.
-The words of the old Maitre had soaked in: “To we artists the human
-figure exists in masses of light and shade. It is not made up of legs
-and hands, and breasts, and ears and teeth. No, by the good God, no!”
-Wynne had remembered, and here was the distillation of the words. Here
-was his canvas with its faithful _chiaroscuro_ of life.
-
-But of all the people in the house that night only Eve knew the palette
-whereon the colours had been mixed. One by one she recognized and
-silently named them, and sometimes she glowed with pride, for many owed
-their brilliance and their being to herself.
-
-“Well done, Wynne! Oh, well done!” she breathed, as the curtain fell.
-
-“We are seeing things tonight,” said an important critic as he and a
-contemporary passed toward the foyer.
-
-Eve rose and followed them, and during the interval she moved from group
-to group and listened to what the audience had to say.
-
-There was no doubt Wynne Rendall had come into his own, for although
-every one praised the play it was his name which came first.
-
-“I shall let him off a scathing over the press campaign,” said a
-representative of one of London’s dailies. “It’s the best production
-I’ve seen in years.”
-
-Eve noticed and recognized from Wynne’s descriptions, some of the
-tail-lights to the arts. They were busy adding his name to their lists.
-They were boasting of alleged friendship with him. One of the more
-venturesome spoke of him familiarly as “old W. R.”
-
-A man who leaps from obscurity to initials in a single night is getting
-a move on.
-
-At the final curtain there was an ovation. The author and Wynne
-responded to “author’s call” together, then, as the applause continued,
-Wynne came down to the footlights alone. He seemed very collected, and
-twisted an unlighted cigarette between his forefinger and thumb. For the
-first time Eve thought he looked young—young and care-free, as though
-he had stepped into the element he had searched for for so many years.
-In this new element he moved with an ease and assurance that surprised
-her. She had thought he would show feverishness or excitement, but there
-was no trace of either in his bearing.
-
-“Speech! speech!” shouted the gallery.
-
-He looked up at them with a winning smile, and replied, “Of course.”
-There was a fresh burst of applause and a wave of laughter, and when it
-died away he began to speak in the manner of a man chatting with friends
-about a fireside:
-
-“It’s a charming play, isn’t it? Very charming. Tomorrow my learned
-critics will be saying so. They will say, perhaps, ‘The play’s the
-thing’; but I trust they won’t forget that the manner of its
-interpretation is possibly an even greater thing.” He stopped, smiled
-and said, half under his breath, “Render unto Cæsar—Good-night,
-everybody.”
-
-Eve waited in the foyer, her cheeks aglow with excitement. Presently she
-saw Wynne come through an iron door into the press of congratulation.
-Half the important stage people in London were thronging round him. His
-composure was remarkable. Under the influence of success he seemed to
-have grown up and moved as a man among men. A pretty, rather elaborate
-girl pressed forward to greet him with adulation, and Eve noted how he
-touched her cheek with a kind of possessive patronage, and turned aside
-to speak to some one else. The action was very unlike her preconception
-of his character. Presently he noticed her, and nodded a smile across
-the crowded room.
-
-“Like it?” his lips framed.
-
-And her eyes flashed back the answer.
-
-Seemingly this satisfied him, for he moved away. A little later on he
-noticed her again.
-
-“Don’t wait for me,” he said. “I’m sure to be late.”
-
-Eve walked out of the theatre alone.
-
-“Get me a cab,” she said to the commissionaire.
-
-“I’m sorry, madam, but there are very few tonight.”
-
-“That one,” she pointed to a taxi standing by the curb.
-
-“That is being kept for Mr. Rendall, madam.”
-
-“Oh, is it?” said Eve, and walked toward the Tube.
-
-
- XI
-
-As she turned into Jermyn Street a middle-aged man, walking briskly in
-the same direction, came level with her. He was in evening dress, and
-his coat was open to the night air. He wore a soft hat, and a pipe
-projected from his mouth at a jaunty angle. As he walked he sang to
-himself as one who is glad.
-
-Eve caught a glimpse of his features, and gave a little exclamation,
-whereupon the man turned and looked at her.
-
-“Hallo!” he said, “I know you—but—good heavens! I’ve got you. But what
-in blazes are you doing here by yourself, tonight of all nights?”
-
-“I’m walking home, Uncle Clementine.”
-
-“Then, begad! it’s meself will walk with you. Always talk Irish when I’m
-excited—at least I believe I do; but what’s it matter? I’m excited
-enough to talk double Dutch tonight—aren’t you?”
-
-“Rather,” responded Eve, for Uncle Clem awoke an echo of his mood in
-others.
-
-“I should think you were. Splendid! Top-hole! Lord! Lord! Lord! What a
-production! Aren’t you proud?”
-
-“Very.”
-
-“He’s away, that young fellar of yours—he’s up and away. Always knew he
-had the stuff, from the day when I ran off with him in a station fly and
-talked fairies under the trees. He’s learnt—knew he would, and he has.
-Oh! he’s learnt well! Wouldn’t mind laying a fiver he’s taken a share of
-his knowledge from you.”
-
-“That’s nice of you.”
-
-“Not a bit—common sense! Tell you what, though—’tween us two—that
-speech was a mistake. Cheap and nasty! Drop him a hint, there’s a clever
-girl, to cut all that stuff right out.”
-
-Eve smiled. “Have you ever tried to drop Wynne hints about things like
-that?”
-
-“I’ve thrown him a slab of wisdom from time to time. Not that kind,
-perhaps. But that’s what I say—_you_ tell him. You’ve the opportunity.
-Ha!” He threw up his head. “That’s one of the good things in life that
-I’ve missed.”
-
-“What is?”
-
-“To have some one who, in the night, will touch my foot with her
-littlest toe and breathe over the pillow all the naughty mistakes I’ve
-made during the day.”
-
-“I see,” said Eve.
-
-Something in her tone discouraged him.
-
-“’Course that mayn’t be the way it’s done; I’ve no experience, but I’ve
-fondly imagined it was so.”
-
-“So have I,” said Eve; “but, like yourself, I have no experience.”
-
-“What d’you say?”
-
-“If I stretched out my littlest toe I should bump it against the
-partition wall. That would be very sad, wouldn’t it?”
-
-Uncle Clem stopped short.
-
-“Are you serious?”
-
-“Yes. Don’t you remember our wedding talk?”
-
-“Remember it!”
-
-He began to walk very fast, so fast that she could scarcely keep pace
-with him. At last he jerked out the question:
-
-“That travesty holds good, then? That’s why, on the night of his
-success, you’re walking home alone ’stead of feasting at a top-notch
-restaurant. Good God! And I’ve been shaking hands with myself these four
-hours past that my gloomy forebodings hadn’t come true—but, damn it!
-they have.”
-
-“No,” exclaimed Eve, “you mustn’t say that; it isn’t so.”
-
-“But it is.”
-
-“No. The success was to come first. You remember we said so that day.”
-
-“Well, what’s wrong with tonight’s success?—and you’re walking home
-alone.”
-
-“Yes, tonight he has found himself.”
-
-“And left you behind.”
-
-“I don’t want to say that. I beg you not to say things like that. They
-hurt so.”
-
-In an instant he was all sympathy.
-
-“Why, my dear, don’t heed me. You understand the boy, and I’m only an
-onlooker who gets a glimpse here and there. That’s how it seemed to me
-at a snapshot glance—but I may be wrong. I don’t know what I’m talking
-about half the time. I love that husband of yours, he has such a
-splendid pluck.”
-
-“Yes, he’s been so splendid, Uncle Clem—you must believe that. Never
-for an instant has he spared himself. He’s worked—worked—worked.
-That’s why he came out so finely tonight.”
-
-“I know. But though a man does not spare himself he must always spare
-others—that’s the great science of life. Haven’t you worked too?”
-
-“We’ve been partners, as we said we’d be until success was ours. And now
-he’s made the success, and—”
-
-“Success as an artist, and he’s going to share it as a man?”
-
-“I believe so—oh, I do believe so.”
-
-Uncle Clem walked awhile in silence. When he began to talk it was almost
-as if he were speaking to himself.
-
-“Queer trusting folk, we mortals,” he said. “And we set ourselves such
-wonderful tasks. How old Dame Nature must laugh at us and all our
-philosophies. Fancy two young people locking up the spark of love which
-had sprung between them, packing it away in a secret safe, and believing
-it could be brought to life when convenience allowed. How old Dame
-Nature must laugh! Can’t you imagine her peeping into the safe to see
-how the spark is getting along?” He turned suddenly upon Eve. “How is it
-getting along?”
-
-“I keep it locked up here.” She pressed her hand upon her heart.
-
-“Wonderful you!” said Uncle Clem. “God bless your trust. Hullo! This
-where you live?”
-
-“Yes.”
-
-“Can I come up for awhile?”
-
-“Not tonight.”
-
-“No—no—no. Of course not. He’ll come back with his pockets full of
-champagne, and his heart come to life. I like you, you know. I think
-you’re fine. You’re so damn good to look at, too. Ever hear of the
-purple patch?”
-
-“Yes. Why?”
-
-“Just thinking you’ve the leading light in your eyes that should guide a
-man there. Good-night.”
-
-“Good-night, Uncle Clem.”
-
-At two o’clock Eve took off her pretty frock, put on her plain cotton
-nightdress, and went to bed.
-
-
-
-
- PART SEVEN
- —WHO TRAVELS ALONE”
-
-
- I
-
-In the weeks following it was made clearly evident that Wynne Rendall
-was taking no precautions that his wife should share his new prosperity.
-Conceivably he thought that the mere sharing of his name—a name which
-had sprung into such instant prominence—was adequate compensation for
-any woman.
-
-The newspapers had given him unsparing praise, and already he had been
-approached by several managements with a view to undertaking their
-productions. To these offers he shook his head, replying that he was a
-writer by profession and not a producer.
-
-In an interview he told the reporter that he only worked in the
-direction of his ambitions, and for the moment his ambitions were
-satisfied.
-
-This was, of course, mere persiflage, but several members of the reading
-public thought it very fine.
-
-He was asked everywhere—but only accepted invitations which appealed to
-him. At the functions he attended he usually contrived to fire off at
-least a couple of startling phrases which were remembered and repeated
-by those persons who unintentionally work inside advertising for the
-would-be great.
-
-Being out and about so much he did not bother to alter the conditions of
-life at home. It is true he left rather more money for Eve to use, but
-since he showed no disposition for her to take a place beside him on the
-new plane she found no incentive to change the old régime.
-
-On the morning after the play was produced, with all the notices before
-her, Eve had stretched out a hand to him, and said:
-
-“You’ve won—absolutely you’ve won. My dear, I am so proud.”
-
-“Yes, I’ve made a start. There’s a long way to go yet.”
-
-With a chilly sense she felt that he had not said this from any modesty,
-but rather to delay admitting the success for which they had fought
-their battle.
-
-She was conscious afterwards that he shunned the topic of his success,
-and kept the conversation on impersonal lines.
-
-That glorious moment to which all her hopes had been pinned and all her
-labours consecrated did not mature into reality. It seemed that he was
-floating out of her life as a steamship passes a yacht at sea. And so,
-with the measure of his success, there came about in Eve a corresponding
-stagnation.
-
-It would have been easy then to have engaged a servant to do the
-housework, to have bought furniture, linen, and the many delightful
-things she had planned to do; but somehow the inclination to do so had
-gone. It was preferable to have occupation of some sort, if only to keep
-her thoughts from brooding on these disappointments. Besides, she took
-an almost cynical interest in wondering how long he would allow her to
-remain as a drudge who worked for him with her two hands.
-
-Wynne himself was cheerfully indifferent to the trend of her thoughts.
-He was in excellent spirits, enthusiastic for the present, and full of
-plans for the future.
-
-When “Witches” came to an end he said he proposed to put on a play of
-his own. Lane Quiltan would supply the capital.
-
-“Have you asked him?” said Eve.
-
-“Not yet.”
-
-“Wouldn’t it be better to do so before being too sure?”
-
-He tossed the idea aside with:
-
-“Some things one can take for granted. I am as confident of his support
-as I am confident that at least five young ladies in the company are
-wondering when I shall invite them to Brighton for the week-end.”
-
-With rather an effort, Eve replied:
-
-“Only five?”
-
-“I said in the company,” he very rapturously retorted.
-
-The suggestion of these words struck a peculiar chord of memory in Eve.
-They recalled very vividly a vulgar little cousin of hers—a boy
-scarcely out of his teens—who had boasted, with considerable pride, of
-a liaison with a young lady at a tobacconist’s. It was an unpleasant
-parallel, but she could not clear it from her mind.
-
-Hitherto the physical side of Wynne had been so dormant. She had nursed
-the shell which held his spirit, and nourished it to a manlier form. As
-he stood there before speaking she realized that in body he was a man of
-different fibre, capable of passions not only of the mind. It would be
-tragic and pitiable if these were to be awakened by the same vulgar
-instincts which attack the little Lotharios of nineteen.
-
-This was the man who had starved for a week to buy a copy of Walter
-Pater.
-
-She fell to wondering whether, had their first meeting been now instead
-of then, she could have sat the night through in his rooms without fear
-of consequence.
-
-And while she wondered upon these matters, Wynne’s eyes travelled
-critically over her face and figure.
-
-“You’re rather drab,” he thought; “you haven’t much colour. If your hair
-were dressed differently it would be an improvement, perhaps. That is
-certainly a deplorable dress—and your hands!”
-
-A man whose function is to produce plays acquires a ready knack of
-judging possible qualities by external indications. The habit is not one
-to be recommended in the home, for in practising it he is apt to
-overlook many essentials and ignore grave liabilities.
-
-A just man would not accuse a sweep of possessing a blackened soul
-because his face was sooted from sweeping the flues. The instance may
-sound trivial enough, but it is no less trivial than the train of
-thought running through Wynne’s lightly-poised mind as he contemplated
-the wife of his own making. His eyes were deceived by petty
-superficiality, and blinded to the beauty veiled behind a screen of
-three years’ unremitting toil. He did not bother to speculate if that
-beauty would leap to glorious life at the touch of the hand that swept
-the screen away. To follow his thoughts to their inglorious anchorage,
-he was sensible to a wave of self-pity. It seemed rather ill-luck, with
-the ball of success at his feet, a fresh glow of manhood ripening in his
-veins, that he should be tied to a woman who had lost the fine edge of
-her desirability.
-
-“I see,” said Eve at last; “and do you propose to disappoint them?”
-
-Wynne dropped his cigarette into the grate.
-
-“I never know what I propose to do. The greatest mistake in the world is
-to cut the picnic sandwiches before knowing what the weather will be.”
-
-
- II
-
-It was more to please his humour than from any liking for the lesser
-grades of courtship that Wynne came to amuse himself at the theatre by
-talking perilous rubbish to a highly unimportant young lady of the cast.
-
-Never before had he indulged in this particular sport, and never, until
-lately, had the temptation to do so allured him.
-
-To tell the truth, he was not a little flattered by the success of his
-early attempts at love badinage; although, had he chosen to look beneath
-the surfaces of the very shallow waters which were ruffled by his wit,
-he would have found little cause for self-congratulation.
-
-Esme Waybury, the favoured, had an ax to grind. In her trivial soul was
-ambition to get on (“getting on” implying the receipt of a salary large
-enough to satisfy her tastes in shoe-leather and millinery). A little
-moral laxity is sometimes a short road to the realizations of these
-trifles. Favours, artfully bestowed in the right quarter, are often more
-fruitful of success than is genuine talent.
-
-To her, Wynne Rendall was a power in the land—a power which, with a
-little tact, might easily be diverted toward herself. Without being
-affected by prickings of conscience, she decided, if occasion offered,
-she would compromise herself with him, and step lightly from the
-wreckage of her virtue to spheres of extravagance hitherto unattainable.
-To the furtherance of this ignoble end, she pouted, smiled, and
-performed those various verbal and facial evolutions which, for a
-hundred centuries, have served to divert mankind from the straight and
-narrow path.
-
-Esme was one of those pouting darlings who look infinitely sad at the
-smallest word, with that quality of sadness which provokes thoughts of
-remedial kisses in the male mind.
-
-Eve produced her first pout at an understudy rehearsal taken by Wynne.
-
-“You know,” he had said, “you are very bad in this part.”
-
-Esme then pouted.
-
-“Well, aren’t you?” continued Wynne.
-
-Esme added four quick blinks to the pout very adroitly.
-
-That was all, but when Wynne passed through the stage door Esme and her
-pout were there—a vision to disturb dreams.
-
-Wynne smiled as he walked up the street. It was pleasant to reflect that
-by half a dozen words he could cause a pout to be produced of so
-enduring a nature. As an observer, he considered the elements which go
-to make a good pout. Undoubtedly Esme’s pout had been a good one. Her
-lips were of a sweet red, and moist with the dews of grief. With a good
-pout one saw ever such a little more of lips than one was accustomed to
-see.
-
-No man can think long of this subject without considering the
-possibilities thereof, and for the first time Wynne was consciously
-drawn to the idea that it must be a sweet enough task to kiss a pair of
-pretty lips. Further to this line of thought, he deemed that it might be
-pleasanter still to kiss a pair of pouting lips. And here his
-investigation stopped short in a sharp surprise that such considerations
-could find a place in his over-stocked brain.
-
-Clearly he must have changed in some important features. Was it a sign
-of age or youth? he asked himself. He became aware that his feet rang
-heartily upon the pavement, and when he filled his lungs with good air
-the life quickened in his veins.
-
-“It’s youth,” he said aloud—“youth!”
-
-To the astonishment of a passer-by he stretched out his arms luxuriously
-and laughed:
-
-“I’m young—young!” Then with a wave of self-pity: “Lord! I’ve worked
-hard!”
-
-
- III
-
-Even the most virtuous of men are conscious of a foolish elation when
-marked for favour from a woman’s eyes. They do not, as a rule, inquire
-over-deeply into the value of the glances bestowed upon them. In theory
-Wynne Rendall was not in the least virtuous. At the club he had
-frequently remarked that, if lack of virtue were not such a general
-failing with mankind, he would certainly have been a very devil of a
-fellow. But this and many similar statements had been mere
-phrase-making, designed to fit the wall-space of a conversation.
-
-To adopt a cynical attitude toward human frailty was part of his mental
-routine, and in no way sprung from a natural distaste for sin. Until now
-sex had left him unmoved and apathetic. He had watched others flounder
-in the toils of emotion, himself unstirred by curiosity or desire.
-
-With the discovery of Esme’s pout and his own youth arose the
-opportunity to direct the currents of his stored wisdom upon himself.
-And, after the fashion of most men since the world began, he did no such
-thing. He made no attempt to consider whither these thoughts led, or
-where they drifted, but contentedly let himself gravitate toward the
-enchanting vortices so lately revealed to him.
-
-And so, on the night on which he had told his wife that he never knew
-what he proposed to do, he engaged Miss Esme in trivial conversation,
-and found in the practice a new and amusing diversion.
-
-He was sufficiently entertained to mention some of the passages which
-had occurred between them at breakfast next day, and thereafter the name
-Esme—always referred to in the lightest manner—recurred with some
-frequency in his conversation.
-
-But, if he were pleased with the affair, Miss Esme deplored its tedious
-progression, and did her noblest to smarten up the course of events. In
-this, however, she met with ill-success. Wynne was amused, but no more,
-and made no attempt to encourage a closer intimacy.
-
-There are few women who would have undergone those first months of
-Wynne’s success as courageously as did Eve. There are few who would have
-followed so particularly, and with such understanding, the mental
-processes through which he passed.
-
-To the Esme affair she attached no great importance. She realized that
-any healthy-bodied youngster would have outgrown the Esme period as he
-passed from his teens. That Wynne had failed to do so was a natural
-consequence of the starved, brain-fagging life he had led.
-
-“How old Dame Nature must laugh at us and all our philosophies,” Uncle
-Clem had said. Very clearly Eve saw the meaning he had sought to convey.
-Dame Nature must be laughing now—laughing at the natural reaction of
-nature denied.
-
-A woman will always make allowances for the man she loves, and she
-forced herself to believe that the period through which Wynne was
-passing would prove transient. When it had passed the real metamorphosis
-might come about—and the future promised to each other.
-
-One of the greatest mercies is the survival of the hoping habit. In
-imagination it still seemed possible Wynne would turn to her with the
-light of pride and possession, and call her to his side because he
-needed her there.
-
-So once more she harnessed her soul to wait, though the collar galled as
-never before.
-
-
- IV
-
-One night Wynne said:
-
-“I shall tackle Quiltan tomorrow about backing my play. I would have
-spoken at the club tonight, but some one always interrupts. Think you
-could provide a decent meal if I asked him to lunch here?”
-
-Eve’s spirits leapt.
-
-“Of course I could,” she said.
-
-At last, and for the first time, he was bringing his interests home.
-Unimportant though his words may have seemed they were full of the most
-glorious possibilities. It meant so much more than asking a man to
-lunch. It meant that, at a critical point, he and she would be side by
-side to discuss a great step in his future—in their future. Besides, it
-would be so splendid to meet Quiltan—to know and be known by a friend
-of Wynne’s. She suddenly realized in the three years of their married
-life there had been no friends—nothing but work and their partnership
-to relieve the grey monotony of existence. At the mere suggestion of
-Quiltan’s coming she was bubbling over with excitement.
-
-“What’s the matter?” asked Wynne.
-
-“I don’t know—only I’m awfully, awfully glad. It’s—I haven’t met many
-people lately—and your asking him—here, I— What would you like for
-lunch?”
-
-“Heaven knows! Any notepaper? I’ll drop him a line.”
-
-That night Eve lay awake and her thoughts were good to own. They began
-nowhere and travelled everywhere—out into the unknown and beyond. And
-because of a sudden intense happiness she forgot all manner of doubts
-which of late had oppressed and haunted her.
-
-She rose early and took a pretty dress from a drawer—a dress which,
-because he seemed not to care about these things, she foolishly had
-never worn before him. When she returned from the shops she was laden
-with parcels, and light of heart.
-
-Wynne was standing in the sitting-room with an expression of some
-displeasure upon his face. The spring sunshine coming through the
-windows emphasized the shabbiness of the furniture and appointments. A
-golden shaft caught Eve’s face as she entered, and made her radiant. But
-Wynne did not look toward her. His eyes rested on the tufts of horsehair
-projecting from the upholstery of the old armchair—the sunken springs,
-and the threadbare dilapidation of the carpet.
-
-“I’ve bought a sole,” said Eve, “and some cutlets and peas, and I’ll
-make an omelette with apricot jam—”
-
-“Yes—all right,” said Wynne.
-
-“But I must hurry, for there’s a fearsome lot to do.”
-
-Away she went to the kitchen, where she donned an apron, rolled up her
-sleeves, and got to work.
-
-Never since the early days of her marriage had she set about her duties
-so happily.
-
-“God’s going to be good to me soon,” she said to the frying-pan. “I know
-He is—I know He is.”
-
-The sunshine thrilled her veins with a new sense of life. Two
-affectionate sparrows set up a lover-like duet on the kitchen
-window-sill. The air was full of young spring. All was right with the
-world.
-
-“Hallo!” It was Wynne’s voice calling. “I say, I can’t possibly ask
-Quiltan to this shabby old place. It would bias any one. I’ll ring him
-up and tell him to meet me at the club. G’bye.”
-
-A moment later the front door slammed. The sound scared the sparrows at
-their courtship and sent them fluttering to a tree below.
-
-Then Eve sat down, and resting her head on the kitchen table, cried as
-if her soul were broken in two.
-
-
- V
-
-Wynne rang up Quiltan’s number, and was answered by the manservant, who
-said:
-
-“Very good, sir. I will tell him.” But when he went to do so he found
-his master had already gone out.
-
-Lane Quiltan was somewhat surprised when the door of Wynne’s flat was
-opened by a girl who by no stretch of imagination could be thought to
-belong to the servant class. She wore a coarse apron, her sleeves were
-rolled up, and there was a redness about her eyes that could only have
-come from tears.
-
-“I beg your pardon,” he said; “is this Mr. Rendall’s flat?”
-
-“Yes.”
-
-“Is he—at home?”
-
-“No,” replied Eve. Then, as she realized what had happened, a smile
-broke the tragical lines of her expression.
-
-“He asked me to lunch,” said Quiltan. “May I come in?”
-
-“Yes, please do.”
-
-He followed her to the shabby sitting-room.
-
-“I’m afraid,” said Eve, “my husband won’t be back to lunch. He was
-telephoning to ask you to meet him at the club instead.”
-
-“Your husband?” He looked at her in surprise. “I didn’t know Rendall was
-married.”
-
-She bit her lip—it was rather an unkind stab. He noticed this, and
-hastened to say:
-
-“That is, he never told me.”
-
-“Why should he?” she answered quickly.
-
-He looked at her for a longish while before replying:
-
-“I can see quite a number of reasons.”
-
-The words were spoken with simple sincerity, and they brought a glow of
-bright colour to her cheeks. Thinking perhaps he had offended, he said:
-
-“Well, since he has gone to the club, I suppose I had better follow him
-there. I don’t want to go a bit, and I’m sorry we shan’t be lunching
-together.”
-
-“So am I,” she nodded.
-
-“Why aren’t we?” he asked, unexpectedly.
-
-“I suppose there is no great harm telling you—since you are here. This
-was to have been a business meeting, and Wynne thought the surroundings
-might prove—unproductive.”
-
-“Oh!” He hesitated; then: “When did he think that?”
-
-“An hour ago.”
-
-“Then,” said Quiltan, with quick intuition, “the lunch must have been
-partially prepared?”
-
-“It was.”
-
-He took a deep breath.
-
-“Isn’t it a pity to waste it? I mean, don’t you think I might be invited
-to share it with you?”
-
-There was something very attractive in the tentative manner in which he
-made the proposal.
-
-“Do you want to stay?”
-
-“Very much indeed.”
-
-“Do stay, then—please stay. I was rather— I mean, it would make a
-difference if you stayed. But I haven’t finished cooking yet. You’d have
-to wait a little.”
-
-“So much the better.”
-
-“I’ll be as quick as I can. There are plenty of books here.”
-
-He made a wry face.
-
-“Of course, if I must read I will,” he said; “but I’d much rather help
-cook.”
-
-“You can if you like.”
-
-“That’s jolly of you.”
-
-He threw his overcoat over the back of a chair, and together they made
-their way to the kitchen.
-
-“I had no idea a sole had its face powdered before being put in a
-fry-pan,” he observed, and made her laugh merrily.
-
-“It goes in like a white Parisian, and comes out a sunburnt Spaniard,”
-she returned.
-
-“You look as if some sun would do you no harm.”
-
-“I dare say it wouldn’t. Haven’t tried the experiment. Would you like to
-be useful and lay the table in the front room?”
-
-“Oh, can’t we eat here?”
-
-“If you’d rather, we can.”
-
-“Much rather. Everything piping hot, and you won’t be everlastingly
-running off to fetch dishes, will you?”
-
-It was so long since any one had minded what she did that Eve caught her
-breath in a half-sob.
-
-“What’s the matter?”
-
-“Nothing.”
-
-It had seemed rather cruel that this five minutes’ friend should say the
-very things Wynne never bothered to say.
-
-“But you—”
-
-“I did. I do silly things sometimes, but I’m not really hysterical.”
-
-“I know.”
-
-“How can you know?”
-
-“I seem to know you very well. That remarkable husband of yours
-contrived to put a lot of you into the characters of my play. I used to
-puzzle about it—used to wonder where his extraordinary intimate
-knowledge came from.”
-
-Eve was all enthusiasm in a second.
-
-“You really mean that?”
-
-“’Course. He used to show the women what to do in the most amazing way.
-Now I can see the source of his wisdom.”
-
-“That’s made me happy. It’s nice to feel one is of use, isn’t it? There
-are some knives and forks in the box there, and the plates are in the
-dresser.”
-
-It was because she could feel his eyes resting inquiringly upon her that
-she gave him this sudden direction.
-
-Presently they sat down to the first course.
-
-“This is jolly,” said Quiltan.
-
-“It’s a change for you. I wonder—”
-
-“What?”
-
-“Only whether you would think it quite so jolly if it were all.”
-
-For awhile he made no reply, then he laid down his knife and fork.
-
-“I say,” he said, “shall we be friends?”
-
-“I am sure we shall be.”
-
-“I mean— Well, this meeting of ours was never really intended, so one
-might excusably assume that it had never taken place. Wouldn’t we be
-justified, then, in talking to one another as we might have talked to
-ourselves if we had been alone?”
-
-Eve shivered. “It might not be a happy conversation.”
-
-“Even so—why not? We could be as honest as dreams are, and what we said
-could be as easily forgotten.”
-
-“I’m frightened of dreams,” said Eve. “They never come true.”
-
-“Won’t you tell me one that hasn’t come true? If it hasn’t come false
-there is hope for it yet.”
-
-“I suppose there is.”
-
-“Won’t you tell me that dream?”
-
-“If you promise to wake up and forget it.”
-
-“Tell me first.”
-
-And so, rather haltingly, but with growing confidence, Eve told the
-stranger of her hopes:
-
-“I can see clearly now, it was a companion Wynne needed, that’s all—a
-mental companion. Had I been a man I might have entered more deeply into
-his life. You see, we fought to rise out of this rut, and now he has
-begun to rise he finds that I am part of the rut—something to be left
-behind. I believe a man and woman were not intended to live together as
-we have—there was no fire, you see—we were just partners. The marriage
-link cannot be welded without fire. I wonder—do you understand what I
-mean?”
-
-He nodded gravely.
-
-“Wynne’s was all mental fire. The embers of his love for me have never
-glowed into a flame.” She laughed to smother a sob. “They are out—out
-altogether—dead and cold! At least it seems so. I have been like a book
-to him—an information bureau and debating society in one. Ever ready to
-supply the thoughts that were not self-revealing. And now I have been
-read from cover to cover, and it’s foolish, I suppose, to expect a place
-in the new library.”
-
-“What a damnable story!” said Quiltan, with sudden fierceness. “I feel
-like—kicking him.”
-
-“Don’t feel like that. Everybody has wanted to kick Wynne. It was the
-first thing which drew me toward him. And when you look at it all from
-his point of view, you _can see_.”
-
-“_You_ find excuses for him?”
-
-“Easily.”
-
-“How—how?”
-
-“I love him.”
-
-“Still?”
-
-“Yes. And I’d go through just such another three years if I thought that
-he would love me at the end—gladly I would.”
-
-“But suppose he never does love you! What then? How long can you last
-out like this? Don’t you want to live?”
-
-“Oh, yes, I want to live.”
-
-“Well then?”
-
-“But all the folk who want to live can’t have their way. Perhaps I shall
-just go on wanting till even the want dies.”
-
-“That’s unthinkable.”
-
-“But very possible.”
-
-She became suddenly aware of the intensity of his expression. The sinews
-of his close-shut hands showed white, and in his eyes burnt a strange
-fire. An odd fear seized her, and to cover her nervousness she quoted at
-random.
-
-“Don’t you remember the Browning lines:
-
- “‘Some with lives that came to nothing,
- Some with deeds as well undone,
- Death came tacitly and took them where they never see the sun.’”
-
-He seized on the purport of a single line, and said:
-
-“Isn’t the alternative better, perhaps, than this?”
-
-“Death?” she queried.
-
-“‘Some with deeds as well undone.’”
-
-He spoke with a queer hoarseness.
-
-For a moment she held his eyes steadily, then with quick colour turned
-away her head.
-
-“I thought,” she said, “we were to be friends.”
-
-“Haven’t you had enough of friendship?”
-
-She had thought he would recover himself at the rebuke, but if anything
-his voice was more insistent.
-
-“Haven’t you?” he repeated.
-
-“There is no need for you to make love to me, Mr. Quiltan.”
-
-“How do you know?” he retorted. “How can you possibly say that?”
-
-She rose and moved some plates to the dresser.
-
-“I suppose you were sorry for me, and thought that the kindest way to
-show it. You were wrong.”
-
-His reply was unexpected:
-
-“How can you possibly say I was wrong? You don’t know—you don’t know
-what may have happened to me since I came here. If I made you think I am
-a lover by trade I apologize—for it’s the last thing I would have you
-believe.”
-
-She scarcely knew what to answer, but there was no need, for he started
-afresh:
-
-“D’you know, I have never been in love with any one before. I have never
-even made love to any one; but, by God! I want to make love to you. The
-instant you opened the door I knew something had happened to me. I’m in
-love with you—do you understand?—absolutely.”
-
-Despite the startled fear these crazy words awoke, Eve could not but
-feel a sudden impulse of warmth. In the midst of the passionless
-monotony of her life—at a time when her every thought was doubting if
-she possessed any one quality to endear—came this sudden avowal, backed
-by a sincerity that could not be misunderstood. The very surprise
-written on his face testified that he meant all he had said.
-
-So they looked at each other with the greatest perplexity, and only the
-silliest, most conventional phrase found its way to Eve’s lips.
-
-“I’m married,” she said. “You forget. You mustn’t speak so.”
-
-“I deny your marriage, so why shouldn’t I speak as I feel? I must
-speak.”
-
-“When I ask you not?”
-
-His hands fell to his sides.
-
-“Why do you ask me not? Is it nothing to hear of love, even though you
-may not need it? Oh, I—”
-
-“Please.”
-
-He took a step toward her, then turned sharply away. Presently he
-laughed:
-
-“Ha! I said we’d be as honest as dreams are—and we have been. You know
-how dreams go—leaping from rock to rock—clearing all difficulties—you
-and the subject to the predestined end.”
-
-“What is the predestined end?” said Curiosity.
-
-“To make you happy.”
-
-“Is that a part of love?”
-
-“All of mine,” he said.
-
-She stretched out her hand.
-
-“Oh, you’re rather good. I’m glad you came, you have given me back what
-I had lost.”
-
-“What?”
-
-“You’ve given me hope.”
-
-“I wish I could give you reality.”
-
-“Hope is better, New Friend.”
-
-“Until it dies.”
-
-“It shan’t die,” said Eve, with a sudden fierceness.
-
-“But if it should, would not reality help you to forget?”
-
-“I don’t know.”
-
-“How would you know if hope had died?”
-
-“If—if he failed me altogether,” she slowly answered.
-
-“I understand,” said Quiltan.
-
-
- VI
-
-Wynne Rendall was not a little irritated at Quiltan’s failure to keep
-the appointment. He lunched alone at the club, and for want of better
-occupation strolled round to the theatre afterwards. He walked on to the
-stage at the very moment Miss Esme was beginning her scene, and,
-observing him, this young lady very promptly gave up all attempts to
-proceed, and said:
-
-“I do wish you wouldn’t come to rehearsals—you frighten me most
-dreadfully.”
-
-“Come along, Miss Waybury,” insisted the stage manager.
-
-But Wynne held up his hand.
-
-“Wait a bit. We’ll go over it together. Take the rest through, Henson,
-and read for Miss Waybury.”
-
-He led the way to a comfortable office which had been set aside for his
-use, and nodded Esme toward one of the big leather chairs.
-
-“Now then, what’s the matter with you?”
-
-“You frighten me.”
-
-“Do I?”
-
-“Umps!”
-
-“Don’t believe it,” said Wynne. “You’re up to some mischief, you are.”
-
-Esme pouted and looked at him demurely for just the right length of
-time.
-
-“I’m not.”
-
-“Oh, yes you are.”
-
-Esme hesitated. “Well, I can’t help liking you.”
-
-“Heroic announcement of an infatuated young lady. And now what good
-purpose do you suppose that will serve?”
-
-“No good.”
-
-“At the first guess!”
-
-“Because you’re so stand off.”
-
-“Would the purpose be any better if I weren’t?”
-
-“I don’t know.”
-
-“Well, think.”
-
-“No. You’re horrid—you’re trying to tie me up.”
-
-“Believe me!” Wynne negatived.
-
-“Yes, in words—and I can’t talk.”
-
-“Eloquent in other ways?”
-
-“I’m not.”
-
-“Oh, yes. That pout, for instance.”
-
-“You _are_ horrid.”
-
-“But I like the pout. You pout ever so much better than you act—you
-should stick to pouting. Pout now!”
-
-“I shan’t.”
-
-“Come, just a little one—one small pout.”
-
-“No.”
-
-“I insist.”
-
-“You can’t make me.”
-
-“I’m waiting.”
-
-Esme covered her mouth with her hand. “Now what are you going to do?”
-
-“Wait—go on waiting.”
-
-Very slowly she lowered her hand, and for a short second he saw the
-little red lips screwed up in obedience to his command. Absurd as it may
-seem, the foolish conquest gave him a perplexing thrill.
-
-“Again,” he said. “It was too short.”
-
-“No,” said Esme, shaking her head. “I shan’t do it again. You’re
-laughing at me.”
-
-She rose and moved a little toward him and the door.
-
-“And what’s wrong with that?”
-
-“Don’t want to be laughed at—not by you.”
-
-“I doubt if you know what you do want.”
-
-“’Tany rate I shan’t tell you.”
-
-“Wonderful independence!”
-
-“I’ll go back now, please.”
-
-“Never neglecting her studies for an instant!”
-
-Esme came level with him and laid her hand on the door knob.
-
-“Sometimes,” she began, “I think—I think—”
-
-“No.”
-
-“I think you are a very good little boy.”
-
-She opened the door, but as quickly he closed it again.
-
-“What do you mean by that?”
-
-Her eyes rested on the pattern of the carpet. There was brighter colour
-on Wynne’s cheeks as he repeated:
-
-“What do you mean by that?”
-
-“Just what I said.” Her eyes were still lowered. “’Course I don’t blame
-you—some people are born good—some people can’t help it—some people
-aren’t plucky enough to be anything else.”
-
-They stood without moving, while new and insane senses started to pulse
-in his side and throat.
-
-Then very slowly Esme raised her chin and looked at him, her eyes half
-hidden by their lids, her lips curled in a moist, mocking pout.
-
-In an instant Wynne’s arms fastened round her, but she pressed away from
-him.
-
-“You mustn’t kiss me—you mustn’t. If you did I don’t know what would
-happen.”
-
-“I don’t care,” said Wynne, madly.
-
-So having won her pretty little battle she struggled no more, but put
-her lips where best they might be reached.
-
-
- VII
-
-Five minutes later he was speeding northward in a taxi. He had given the
-driver his home address, but he said a second later:
-
-“No; drive me out Hampstead way—keep going—any old where.”
-
-Then he lay back and let the wind rush through his hair, while his
-thoughts ran riot.
-
-His last words to Esme had been:
-
-“In a few days—I’ll arrange something.”
-
-He had meant it—he meant it still. She was nothing to him—only youth.
-But youth was splendid. What did anything else matter? He felt like some
-wild young thing of the forests when the “spring running” was in the
-air. A great sense of release possessed him. It was unlike any other
-sensation he had ever known. He was amazed it should have sprung from so
-trivial a source, but ignored to inquire more deeply into this line of
-thought. Had he but known it, the change that had come about in
-him—that curious, half-wicked ecstasy—was of the same emotional
-coinage that attacks the average boy when first he kisses a pretty
-chambermaid in the dark of a dormitory corridor.
-
-As the taxi climbed the Hampstead hill his thoughts turned to Eve, and
-he wondered how he should approach her in the telling of the affair.
-After all, there was nothing to tell yet—but later there would be.
-
-In his insane exuberance he decided that he would make no attempt to
-mask his actions. If he were not ashamed he would not act as though he
-were. Emphatically not. Let people say what they might, he would steer
-his own course—go his own way for all the world to see.
-
-Would Eve mind a great deal? Why should she? After all, there was but a
-partnership of brain and work which bound each to each. He wondered even
-if there would be any infidelity in what he proposed to do.
-
-But what had infidelity or partnership, or obligation or anything else,
-to do with it? He was an artist, unruled by law or convention. If he
-desired an excess of the brain he had indulged the desire—why not,
-then, an excess of the body.
-
-In the middle of the Heath he left the taxi, and tramped across the soft
-turf. He walked fast and in a large circle. As he went he sang to
-himself, and once, hat in hand, chased a butterfly as a schoolboy might
-have done. In the little clearing among the trees he came upon some boys
-and girls playing a boisterous laughing game. The girls were flappers
-with short skirts, and cheeks rosy with running. He stayed to watch
-them, and, fired by enthusiasm, shouted encouragement to pursuer and
-pursued. One of the bolder shouted back that he should join in, and
-without a thought he threw aside his coat and was racing and laughing
-with the rest. The game was postman’s knock, and as postman he caught
-the prettiest after a spirited chase, and kissed her as they collapsed
-into the tangled brambles.
-
-Still laughing and breathless, he picked up his coat and followed his
-way.
-
-The sun was falling red, and the chill evening air tasted like
-champagne.
-
-Champagne—yes—he would go to the club and drink champagne—lots of it.
-He wanted to hear men talk—listen to and applaud their tales of
-adventure. He had laughed at them—hurled at their frailty lampoons
-through the press, and yet tonight he would laugh with them—yes, with
-them, for they were right, and he, for all his wisdom, had been
-wrong—wrong—wrong.
-
-God gave unto each man one life—to make the most of. That was the wise
-man’s creed.
-
- “Of making many books there is no end:
- and much study is a weariness of the flesh.”
-
-He arrived at the club about seven o’clock, and was informed that a
-gentleman was waiting to see him.
-
-“I don’t want to see anybody. Who is he?”
-
-The page produced a card bearing the name, “Mr. Sefton Wainwright,” and
-below, “New British Drama Association.”
-
-Every one had heard of the New British Drama Association. It was
-rumoured that it would be the greatest and most progressive theatrical
-enterprise in England. The scaffold-poles of the façade of their
-splendid new theatre were already being taken down, and it was said that
-the opening would be in the coming autumn.
-
-“How long had he been waiting?”
-
-“Nearly an hour, sir.”
-
-“Then he deserves to see me.”
-
-Mr. Wainwright was very affable, also he was very businesslike.
-
-“We want three producers on our permanent staff—a business producer, a
-classic producer, and one with a _flair_ like yourself. We mean to do
-things at our theatre, Mr. Rendall!”
-
-“Aha.”
-
-“Well, what about it?”
-
-“I’m a writer.”
-
-“So much the better. You’ll have plenty of time.”
-
-“I believe I’m a mercenary too.”
-
-“A thousand a year any good?”
-
-Wynne smiled.
-
-“I have lived on less,” he said.
-
-“Then I repeat, what about it?”
-
-“If you’ll do a play of mine I’ll think more kindly of the offer.”
-
-“Send it right along. And in the meantime—”
-
-“You let me know about the play and I’ll let you know about the
-producing.”
-
-“Very well—today is Friday. Shall we say Friday week?”
-
-“I’ll come and see you at eleven o’clock.”
-
-“And you like the idea?”
-
-“I like everything. I’m in love with the world today.”
-
-At dinner Wynne drank a large quantity of champagne, and insisted that
-every one else in the immediate neighbourhood should do likewise. As he
-drank his spirits rose, and so also did his voice. There was a great
-deal of laughter and much wit—and the wit was accorded more laughter
-than it deserved. After dinner there were brandies and sodas and more
-wit—lots of wit—so much wit that every one was witty at once and
-missed their neighbour’s scintillations. Under the influence of the
-brandies and sodas wit ripened to adventure. Many and glorious were the
-adventures recited, and it seemed that all save Wynne had adventured
-deeply. He leaned against the mantelshelf and looked at the brave with
-bright eyes.
-
-“Oh, you marvellous Lotharios!” he cried. “To think that you, Anson—and
-you, too, Braithwaite—should have adventured along paths denied to
-myself.”
-
-Many wise heads were shaken at this improbable suggestion.
-
-“No, no, no, I assure you—innocent, my lords and gentlemen—hand on
-heart I say it” (much laughter and ironical cheers). “But I will turn
-over a new leaf. The spring is in the air—the call! Guide me with your
-wise lights to glades of Eros, for honestly”—he dropped into the
-commonplace—“if I ran away with a girl I shouldn’t know where to run.
-Tell me, some one.”
-
-“Depends on how secret you wish to be,” the some one replied.
-
-“Secret no—to hell with subterfuge!” cried Wynne, who had many drinks
-beneath his waistcoat. “Love is for the light, the sunshine, and the
-sea.”
-
-“Nothing for it but the Cosmopolis, Brighton.”
-
-“Right—every time. Marvellous Lotharios! Every time right. The
-Cosmopolis, Brighton. I shan’t forget—write it down, some one, ’case I
-do. Hullo, that you Quiltan?”
-
-Lane Quiltan, who had entered the room five minutes earlier, nodded.
-
-“Made an appointment, and you didn’t turn up.”
-
-“Yes.”
-
-“Lost a fine chance! Might have had an interest in something of mine.”
-
-“Might I?”
-
-“Had your chance—didn’t take it. Too late now!”
-
-“Is it?” said Quiltan.
-
-
-
-
- PART EIGHT
- THE LEAP
-
-
- I
-
-Clementine Rendall lay in bed and watched the sun-patterns of the
-string-coloured pile carpet. The birds on the lettuce-green trees of
-Kensington Square sang gaily of summer and their adventurous flights
-from the roof of John Barker’s to the happy hunting ground of Earl’s
-Court. It was a good day, he reflected, a day full of scent and harmony,
-and yet for some reason he felt oppressed.
-
-“Parsons,” he said, as his man entered with a small tea-tray. “Parsons,
-I have an impression that I am not going to enjoy myself.”
-
-“I hope that won’t be so, sir.”
-
-“So do I, Parsons; but I fear the worst. How old am I?”
-
-“Fifty-one and three months.”
-
-“That’s not very old—but it’s too old!”
-
-“For what, sir?”
-
-“I don’t know. But I should like always to be young enough to go
-courting when summer’s here. Dreadful thing when one loses the
-inclination to court, isn’t it?”
-
-“I couldn’t say, sir.”
-
-“Then you’re not fifty-one.”
-
-“That was not my meaning.”
-
-“Seems to me, if one can’t go courting oneself one should show the lanes
-to others. Know any one, Parsons, to whom I could show the lanes? I’d be
-an awful good guide.”
-
-“I rather fancy, sir, young folk find ’em pretty easy without help.”
-
-“You’re wrong there—they don’t—least some don’t; they stick to the
-barren moor and the wind-swept places. Not very good tea this morning,
-Parsons.”
-
-“I’m sorry, sir.”
-
-“’Twouldn’t have been good, anyhow. I’m in for a bad day. I can feel it
-in my bones.”
-
-Parsons laid out a tweed suit and a cheerful necktie, and placed a silk
-dressing-gown over the bedrail.
-
-“Ready for your bath, sir?”
-
-“Yes, turn it on.”
-
-Parsons retired and returned a few moments later with the announcement:
-
-“A gentleman has called to see you, sir. I told him you wasn’t up, but
-he asked permission to wait.”
-
-“Who is he?”
-
-“Mr. Lane Quiltan, sir.”
-
-“Quiltan, oh, yes—yes, wrote that play at the—. What’s he after?”
-
-“I don’t know, sir. Looked a bit worried, I thought.”
-
-“Oh! I don’t know the fellar. What’s he like? Think he’d care for me in
-my dressing-gown?”
-
-“I could ask, sir.”
-
-“Yes, ask, and tell him if he wants me in a suit he can’t have me at
-all.”
-
-Clementine Rendall swung his feet to the floor as the door closed and
-felt for his slippers. He pulled on the bandanna dressing-gown, lit a
-cigarette, and combed his hair. As he did so he sang cheerfully a song
-written to the occasion:
-
- “I don’t know the fellar,
- I don’t know the fellar,
- I don’t know the fellar,
- Or who the hell he is.”
-
-At the conclusion he became aware of the reflection of a stranger in the
-mirror.
-
-“Hullo! Mr. Quiltan,” he said. “Excuse my song—went with the comb
-strokes. Liked your play no end—top hole! Sit down, won’t you. What you
-come to see me for, eh?”
-
-Quiltan hesitated.
-
-“It’s difficult to answer,” he replied, “for really I don’t know.”
-
-“That’s the style. Just a friendly visit.”
-
-“Not altogether. I want to talk to some one—and I chose you. I’m in
-love.”
-
-“I envy you.”
-
-“You needn’t, for I’m as miserable as hell.”
-
-“It’s all a part of it.”
-
-“And I don’t know what to do.”
-
-“It’s all a part of it.”
-
-“Don’t you want to know with whom I’m in love?”
-
-“Does it concern me?”
-
-“In a way it does.”
-
-“Fire ahead.”
-
-“Wynne Rendall is your nephew, isn’t he? I’m in love with his wife.”
-
-Clementine shot a quick, fierce glance at his visitor.
-
-“Oh! Well, hadn’t you better get over it?”
-
-“I’m not sure that I want to. Not at all sure.”
-
-“Then I’m glad you came to see me. Why did you?”
-
-“Your name occurred last night. She said that you understood. Well, I
-want you to understand, that’s all; to understand that, if anything goes
-wrong, it’s her husband’s fault, not hers.”
-
-“And not yours?” The question was very direct.
-
-“No, by God, I believe not mine either. I want her to be happy—I think
-of nothing else.”
-
-“And isn’t she?”
-
-“You know the life she’s led!”
-
-“Well?”
-
-“Doesn’t that answer the question? He treats her as if she didn’t exist.
-I verily believe he isn’t even conscious of her.”
-
-“Is she in love with you?”
-
-Quiltan hesitated. “Not yet—but I think I could make her.”
-
-“Ha! Make her love you that you may make her happy, eh? Roundabout
-scheme, isn’t it?”
-
-“She shall be happy. I’m determined on that.”
-
-“You’re very sympathetic.”
-
-“I am.”
-
-Clem’s voice softened.
-
-“I believe you are,” he said. “Tell me—what’s the trouble there?”
-
-“He’s cheated her, and used her as a ladder to climb from her world.
-It’s a damnable enough story—d’you want to hear it?”
-
-“No—no—no. I can fill in the gaps. But look here! D’you think a lover
-will make up for what she’s lost? And are you sure she has lost? That’s
-the point to decide.”
-
-“I say he ignores her—isn’t conscious of her—”
-
-“But imagine what might happen if he were.”
-
-“He never will be.”
-
-“You’re very sure.”
-
-“Absolutely.”
-
-“How long have you known her?”
-
-“We met first last Friday.”
-
-“And today’s Thursday. Six days?”
-
-“We’ve met every day since.”
-
-“Does he know that?”
-
-“No.”
-
-“Tell him.”
-
-“Why should I?”
-
-“You said you wanted her to be happy.”
-
-“I do, but why should I tell him?”
-
-“Love is a light sleeper—who wakes very easily. Tell him—wake him up.
-The boy is drunk with success—blind drunk. Are you going to steal from
-a blind man?”
-
-“I shan’t tell him,” said Quiltan, slowly.
-
-“No, because you’re a coward. Frightened of losing ground. Her
-happiness! You don’t give a damn for it beside your own.”
-
-“That’s not true. If I refuse to tell him, it’s because he wouldn’t care
-if I did. God! he isn’t even faithful to her.”
-
-Clementine Rendall sprang to his feet and dropped a hand on Quiltan’s
-shoulder.
-
-“You’re inventing it—inventing it.”
-
-“No. He boasted at the club the other night of a girl he would take to
-Brighton.”
-
-“He was drunk.”
-
-“He had been drinking.”
-
-“Who listens to a drunken man?”
-
-“He was sober enough to mean it. Besides, it’s true. I know the
-girl—Esme Waybury, a pretty, flaxen little strumpet—week-end wife to
-any bidder—understudying at the theatre. You needn’t doubt the facts.
-Half the company knows by this time.”
-
-Clem rapped his closed fist upon the table.
-
-“I hate this,” he exclaimed, “hate it! What will she do—Eve?”
-
-“God knows. It’ud be the last knock. God knows how she’ll take it.
-Anything might happen—she’s extraordinary, and she’s counted on him so
-much—built up a future of hopes. It’s pitiable. If he fails her
-altogether—”
-
-“If?”
-
-“As he will tomorrow night.”
-
-“Tss!”
-
-“Sounds sordid enough, doesn’t it?”
-
-“Well, what then?”
-
-“As I said—anything. She might jump off a bridge.”
-
-“Or fall into your arms, eh?”
-
-“They are waiting.”
-
-For a moment or two Clementine paced the floor of the bedroom, his brows
-creased and his chin down.
-
-“Where’s it all going to lead? How are we going to pull ’em out?”
-
-“Them?”
-
-“Yes. For the boy’s worth saving when he comes to life. I’m sorry for
-him—damn sorry.”
-
-“Think he’s worth it?”
-
-“Worth it? Of course he’s worth it. One can see—you can’t, perhaps, but
-I can—why this has happened. She knows too. One gets a true perspective
-right down the aisle of all those straining, striving years through
-which he struggled. A boy of no physique, whose mind was a great
-question-mark, and a mighty desire to find the answer. That was all that
-mattered—Nature could go hang. He’s dragooned that body of his to carry
-the mind to the places where the answers might be found—worked, toiled,
-sweated, starved for that ideal, asking no help, accepting no charity,
-driving, driving forward on the fuel of his own brain. Then she
-came—the all-understanding she—and took half the burden from his
-shoulders, and built up his neglected body to the likeness of a man.
-Nature was coming back! She knew his ideals, and wanted him to realize
-them—gave up herself that he might realize them, for there was a
-promise in his eyes that she and the ideals might be one.”
-
-“Will it come true?”
-
-“God knows; but He does not put promises there for nothing. It’s all
-outside their reach now. Now Nature is taking a hand—cruel, tempting,
-thrilling old Nature. She’s found the untried subject, and is whispering
-her thousand impulses in his ear. Take your mind back, Quiltan. Can’t
-you remember how it was? Can’t you recall the first pretty face you
-kissed, for no better reason than a whisper of Nature’s that today it
-would be different from what it had been before. And wasn’t it
-different? And didn’t Nature whisper to you that night of a thousand
-other differences? And didn’t you tremble and wonder, and wasn’t
-curiosity alive in you? Oh, man, it comes to all of us sooner or later,
-and the later it comes the more devil there is to pay. A boy is young
-enough to be afraid and old enough to live clean; but a man is not
-afraid, and when his passions come to life they rule him through and
-through, and no damned power on earth can turn them aside.”
-
-“There isn’t much hope, then, for her.”
-
-“It looks like that. But we’ve got to try.”
-
-“Are you going to see him?”
-
-“Not for an instant.”
-
-“Then what?”
-
-“Don’t know. Perhaps something will turn up. But you’ll give her her
-chance?”
-
-Quiltan hesitated.
-
-“Come on, man!”
-
-“Very well.”
-
-“Word of honour?”
-
-“Word of honour.”
-
-“Good. Where can I find you tomorrow?”
-
-“You’ve got my card. I’ll stop in all day.”
-
-“There’s a good chap.”
-
-Quiltan rose and moved toward the door.
-
-“Good-bye, then.”
-
-“’Bye.”
-
-
- II
-
-Wynne rose from the breakfast table and took a step toward the window.
-Then he turned abruptly, as a man will who has something important to
-say.
-
-“Yes,” said Eve.
-
-He shook his head. “Nothing. I—er. No, nothing.”
-
-It was the first time he had spoken that morning. They had sat opposite
-each other in silence, and three times he had opened his lips as if
-about to speak, only to close them again.
-
-They were both near, perilously near, saying many things to each other,
-but that unexplainable conversational barrier which holds up the traffic
-of speech had risen between them. For six days it had been thus, six
-days in which they had not expressed a word that was not commonplace.
-
-That night at the club it had seemed easy enough to Wynne to come and
-tell his wife that red blood was coursing in his veins, and white
-carelessness had thrown an arm about his shoulders. It had seemed a
-simple and an honest confession. She was concerned in him, and had a
-right to know. Yet try as he would his pluck broke down before the
-ordeal. He could do no more than look at her furtively and postpone.
-
-Wynne hated himself when he shirked a deed. Want of courage galled him,
-and the knowledge that he lacked the temerity to put his intentions into
-words seemed to clip the wings of the new mad impulses which possessed
-him.
-
-All the while Eve knew there was something he wanted to say, but she
-could not fathom what manner of thing it might be. Thus from his silence
-grew her own, each waiting for the other to begin.
-
-The day before he had telephoned to the Cosmopolis for rooms. He and
-Esme were going down by the 9.15 that night. As an understudy it was
-easy for her to be released from appearing at the theatre on the
-Saturday. If Eve were to be told it would have to be at once, for the
-appointment with the British Drama Association was at eleven o’clock.
-
-He put a cigarette in his mouth and tapped his pocket for matches.
-
-“Empty,” he said.
-
-“I’ll get you some.”
-
-“Doesn’t matter.”
-
-“I’m going to the kitchen with these things.”
-
-As she went from the room carrying the tray he noticed how shabby she
-was. He was not irritated, but it seemed wrong, somehow. Presently she
-returned and laid a box of matches on the table.
-
-“Thanks. I—”
-
-“Yes.”
-
-“I shall want a box. I’m just going out.”
-
-“I see.”
-
-“Got to—er—see some people. Might be rather good. Do my play, perhaps,
-and a big production job. Quite good, it might be.”
-
-“I’m glad.”
-
-“Yes. ’Pointment at eleven. There’s—er—. Didn’t you want some
-furniture for this place?”
-
-“No,” said Eve.
-
-“Thought you said—”
-
-“I may have done—but—”
-
-“No reason why you shouldn’t have it.”
-
-A vague hope took shape, but it was too vague to risk encouraging him to
-say more. Often before the hope had arisen, only to fall to dust.
-
-She made no answer.
-
-“No reason at all why you shouldn’t have it,” he repeated, “or any
-clothes you want. Don’t you want some clothes? You do.”
-
-Still she made no answer.
-
-“Come on.”
-
-“I want clothes—yes.”
-
-“Well, get them, I mean.”
-
-“Is that all—all you mean?”
-
-“Yes, I think so.”
-
-“I don’t want any clothes,” said Eve.
-
-He looked at her uneasily, then at his watch.
-
-“I ought to be off.”
-
-She nodded.
-
-“Shall you be back?”
-
-He hesitated.
-
-“Probably; but don’t keep anything for me if I’m late. I may—be late.”
-
-As the door closed Eve said, very gently:
-
-“Oh, we’re having a hell of a life.”
-
-Wynne went to his bedroom and pulled out a drawer. He threw a shirt or
-two and some collars on to the bed, then rummaged for a suit case behind
-the dressing-table.
-
-“Damn the things, I can buy what I want,” he said.
-
-Eve heard the front door slam a moment later.
-
-
- III
-
-At the offices of the New British Drama Association Wynne met some
-important gentlemen, and the words they spoke acted upon him like good
-red wine.
-
-“It’s an astonishing play,” said Mr. Howard Delvin, who was not given to
-encomiums. “So astonishing that we propose to use it for our opening
-event.”
-
-“I thought _you’d_ like it, Mr. Delvin,” said Wynne.
-
-“I don’t like it—I dislike it very much indeed. I said it was an
-astonishing play, and that is exactly what I meant. Your wit is
-positively polar, there is no other word; and your philosophy is
-glacial—with all the hard, clear transparence of ice. My personal
-inclination is to put the whole play in a stewpan and boil it, for if
-any man were clever enough to raise its temperature to blood heat he
-would have achieved a play—I say it in all sincerity—of incomparable
-worth. However, we’re satisfied, and now well see if we can satisfy
-you.”
-
-When Wynne departed from that erudite circle he felt almost
-sublime—like nightingales sang their words of praise. A wild elation
-prompted him to sing, to dance, to fill his lungs with the thin air of
-the high peaks to which he had leapt. With youth in one hand and success
-in the other there were no limits to the achievements which might be
-his.
-
-He felt a frenzied desire to celebrate—to celebrate wildly.
-
-He lunched at Scott’s, and ordered a lobster, because its livery was
-scarlet, and a rare champagne, because it beat against the glass. He
-pledged himself and the future—the broad, untrammelled future—and
-drank damnation to the cobwebs of dull care.
-
-The wine fired his brain and imagination, restocked his courage, and set
-his heart a-thumping.
-
-“Paper and an envelope and some Napoleon brandy,” he called to the
-waiter. And when these were brought:
-
-“I was a waiter once—just such a fellow as yourself—a very devil of a
-waiter. Here’s a sovereign. Go and be happy.”
-
-The white paper lay before him, and he dashed a dozen careless words
-across its surface. The envelope he addressed to his wife.
-
-“Here,” he cried, “send that along in an hour or two. God bless you.”
-
-He rose and pushed his way through the swing doors.
-
-
- IV
-
-Clementine Rendall spent the morning in a peculiar fashion. He first
-called on his banker, and, armed with many banknotes, took a cab to the
-Vandyke Theatre. At the stage door he inquired for Miss Esme Waybury.
-
-“Just gone,” said the doorkeeper, “half an hour ago.”
-
-“Unfortunate. Now I wonder when I could see her. Comes out about eleven
-at night, I s’pose?”
-
-“Get out ’bout nine. Understudyin’, she is.”
-
-“I wonder if you could ask her to wait a little tonight.”
-
-The doorkeeper negatived the idea: “Wouldn’t be any good. She’s a-goin’
-to Brighton by the 9.15, and won’t be back till Monday. Ast me to have a
-cab ready.”
-
-“I see. ’Safternoon I’m engaged. But you could give me her address, no
-doubt.”
-
-“Couldn’t. ’Tisn’t allowed.”
-
-“Nonsense. I’m her uncle. Right to know.”
-
-He produced silver in generous quantities, to which the doorkeeper
-succumbed.
-
-Miss Esme had a flat in Maida Vale, whither Clementine Rendall proceeded
-with all dispatch.
-
-In the taxi he reflected that he had set himself a foolish and a
-hopeless task. Even supposing he succeeded in buying off Miss Esme,
-nothing would have been achieved. To postpone a crisis is not to avert
-it. Accordingly he thrust his head from the window and addressed the
-driver:
-
-“Look here—I don’t want to go to Maida Vale. Drive me to Whatshisname
-Mansions—one of the turnings off Baker Street. I’ll rap on the glass to
-show you.” And as he subsided on the cushions again: “Heaven knows what
-I shall do when I get there.”
-
-He found a porter, who directed him to Wynne’s flat, and though assailed
-by many doubts, he beat a cheerful tattoo upon the knocker.
-
-“Hullo!” he exclaimed, when Eve opened the door.
-
-“Can you do with a visitor?”
-
-Without waiting for the answer he kissed her very cordially, and putting
-a friendly arm round her shoulders carried her off to the sitting-room.
-
-“As you never come and see me I came to see you,” he announced. “Well,
-how’s things?”
-
-“Oh, they are all right.”
-
-There was a restraint in her manner, which even his cheeriness was
-unable to break down. He could feel a sense of crisis in the atmosphere.
-
-“And Wynne?”
-
-“He’s out.”
-
-“Out to lunch?”
-
-“Yes.”
-
-“Brain storm!—we’ll go out too.”
-
-“You and I?”
-
-“As ever is! Get yer hat.”
-
-Eve hesitated. “I—”
-
-“Don’t tell me you haven’t a hat.”
-
-She laughed. “No; but it’s so long since I went out to lunch, probably I
-shouldn’t know how to behave.”
-
-“I never could,” he answered. “Eat peas with my knife, talk with my
-mouth full—never was such a fellar as me. Come on—lively does it. What
-’ud you like to do afterwards?”
-
-“Anything.”
-
-“’Cos I’ve an idea—more’n that, I’ve the means of carrying it out.
-Listen to the program: Taxi; a sole and a cutlet at the Berkeley Grill,
-with just a little Rhine wine to help it along. Then what? I suggest a
-picture gallery, and you nod—I suggest a theatre, and you nod a bit
-more agreeably. Finally, I suggest a shopping excursion up Bond Street
-and down Regent Street, with a taxi rolling from door to door to carry
-the parcels; at this you nod vigorously—and perhaps you smile. You
-shall have a Crême de Cacao after your ice, and then you _will_ smile.
-The third and last proposal is carried unanimously, and before we start
-we make out a complete trousseau on the back of the menu card. Outside
-and inside we’ll get the lot. What do you say?”
-
-Eve leant over and touched his hand.
-
-“It sounds so lovely,” she said in a trembling voice; “but what do I
-want with a trousseau?”
-
-“Want with it? Every one wants a trousseau.”
-
-“If anybody cared how you looked in it.”
-
-Uncle Clem’s forehead clouded, and his eyes rested upon her. As he
-looked he noted how sadly she was dressed.
-
-“Little Eve,” he said, “has he ever seen you in a trousseau? I
-mean—look here, my dear, we men are such poor trivial, sleepy beings.
-We only wake up when something bangs us in the eye. Have you never
-thought it might be worth while to bang him in the eye with all that
-beauty of yours in the setting it deserves? You see we get used to
-things as they are, and never bother our heads with things as they might
-be. Don’t answer. I know it’s all quite indefensible, and I know you
-know it too. But just for fun—for a lark—a spree, let’s go out and do
-this thing. He’ll be in later, yes?”
-
-“He said he would come to dinner.”
-
-“Then we’ll fill in the time between then and now, and I’ll take
-charge.”
-
-Eve stood up suddenly.
-
-“Why—why do you always make me feel it will be all right?”
-
-“It will. There, be off and get your hat.”
-
-“Very well.” At the door she turned. “I have a frock if you’ll let me
-put it on. You won’t have to take me out in this old thing.”
-
-“Have you worn it for him?”
-
-“No.”
-
-“Silly girl. Wear it for me, then. I’ll wait.”
-
-As the door closed he muttered to himself:
-
-“Wonder why the devil I’m buoying up her hopes. Wonder where we’ll be
-this time tomorrow?”
-
-Clementine Rendall was a wonderful host, and he ordered the most
-delicious luncheon. He and monsieur, the faultless monsieur, laid their
-heads together and made decisions over the menu with a deliberation
-Downing Street might have envied. Monsieur would touch the title of some
-precious dish with the extreme point of pencil, and Clem would nod or
-query the suggestion. At last the decision was made, brought up for
-amendment, and finally approved.
-
-The cooking was incomparable, and Uncle Clem matched his spirits to its
-perfection. Gradually he drew Eve out, and by the time the last course
-was set before them she was full of exquisite plans for the things they
-would buy together. The harmony of the surroundings, the attention, the
-good food, and the subtle white wine worked a miracle of change. Her
-eyes softened and took fresh lustre, her cheeks glowed with a gentle
-colour, and her voice warmed.
-
-Noting these matters Uncle Clem was glad, but feared greatly.
-
-“Now for the shops,” she said.
-
-They had scarcely turned the corner of Piccadilly before he rapped
-against the glass of the taxi.
-
-“Barrett’s!” he cried; “we mustn’t pass poor old Barrett’s without
-giving them a look in.”
-
-Next instant they were in those pleasant leather-smelling showrooms, and
-an attentive assistant was directing their gaze to rows of dressing
-bags, both great and small.
-
-“Make your choice—mustn’t lose time.”
-
-“Am I really to have one of those bright bottley things?”
-
-“’Course you are; what’s old Barrett run the place for? Choose, and
-quick about it.”
-
-Long economy prompted Eve to decide upon the smallest and cheapest.
-Whereupon Clementine pointed to another with his stick, and cried:
-
-“Sling it in the taxi—you know me! Right! On we go.”
-
-But he did not go on before he had purchased a great spray of malmaisons
-at Solomon’s.
-
-“Hats, dresses, and all the rest of it! Bond Street, cabby.”
-
-In Bond Street he was at his best. He insisted on following Eve through
-all manner of extraordinary departments.
-
-“Oh, go on with you. I’m old enough to have been married years ago. I’ll
-look out of the window if you like—but if the bill ain’t big enough I
-shall turn round. Get busy!”
-
-Infected by his enthusiasm Eve got busy, and two great boxes of
-exquisite frillies floated down to the taxi.
-
-“When we’ve filled this cab we’ll get another,” he declared as they
-clambered in and took their seats.
-
-At Redfern’s, in Conduit Street, he showed that he was a man of
-discrimination. He paraded the _mannequins_, and bought four dresses
-after a deal of inspection and deliberation.
-
-“But four’s such a heap!” said Eve.
-
-“Nonsense. I’ll make it six if you say another word. Here, bundle off
-and put on that fawn thing—know it’ll suit you—want to see how you
-look! I’ll go and choose hats. I’m a whaler on hats.”
-
-So while she changed he went off hatting, to the great joy of the
-department, and returned with many.
-
-Eve was very quick, and as she came from the little changing-room he had
-a wild desire to cheer.
-
-“Lord! You look lovely! Here, try some of these. Ain’t I a chooser? This
-one! Ain’t it a tartar—the very devil of a little hat.”
-
-He was right.
-
-“It!” he cried. “It! Clicks with the dress every time! Keep it on. Here,
-some of you kind young ladies, this lot for the taxi. Bill! Splendid.”
-
-He shovelled out a handful of notes and they followed their purchases to
-the street.
-
-“No more,” begged Eve, between laughter and tears. “Not any more today.”
-
-“Gloves—shoes—’brollies must be bought.”
-
-He was inexorable, and it was six o’clock before the laden taxi rolled
-them to the door of the Mansions.
-
-“You’ve given me my most wonderful day,” she said.
-
-“You child!” he answered, and pressed her hand. “There are lots more
-wonderful days ahead—remember that.”
-
-Then he and she, and the driver, each burdened sky-high with packages,
-mounted the stairs to the flat.
-
-As Uncle Clem paid the fare, Eve stooped and picked up a note from the
-door-mat. She opened it as he closed the door.
-
-“God!” she said, in a very little voice.
-
-He took the note and read it.
-
-
- V
-
-Twenty minutes later Clementine Rendall was hammering on Quiltan’s front
-door.
-
-He had seen what to do. It had come to him very suddenly with all the
-force of a strong white light. He had made no attempt to comfort
-Eve—she had not needed that. Wynne Rendall’s note had done its work
-strangely. At the death of her hopes Eve had laughed a careless, wanton
-laugh. It was the laugh which gave him the idea.
-
-“Mr. Quiltan—at once!” he said to the servant who opened the door.
-
-“Well?” said Quiltan.
-
-“You’re in love with Eve?”
-
-“Yes.”
-
-“Will you run away with her—now?”
-
-“Now?”
-
-“At once. Go and make love to her. Don’t be frightened, it will be quite
-easy. She knows. Then take her away.”
-
-“But I don’t understand.”
-
-“Have you got a car?”
-
-“Yes.”
-
-“Order it. Pack her inside and get away to Brighton.”
-
-“Brighton?”
-
-“I said so—the Cosmopolis.”
-
-“But good God! he’s going there.”
-
-“She doesn’t know that.”
-
-“Have you gone mad?”
-
-“Thought you wanted her to be happy?”
-
-“I do.”
-
-“Thought you were prepared to give her the chance.”
-
-“Yes, but—”
-
-“Then do as I say. Take her to Brighton. She’ll go—give her supper in
-the public room at 10.30. Don’t look so blank, man. After all, it’s ten
-to one against, and the odds are with you.”
-
-Quiltan hesitated. “It’s so extraordinary.”
-
-“Quiltan! if you refuse to do this thing I’ll shoot you—by God! I
-believe I will.”
-
-Quiltan rang the bell.
-
-“I want the car,” he said—“immediately—and—and a suit case.”
-
-
- VI
-
-Eve scarcely spoke in the car as they drove over the long, undulating
-road to Brighton. When Quiltan came to the flat he found her with a
-queer hard light in her eyes. She nodded in a detached kind of way when
-he told her he knew. In the same detached way she listened to his
-half-scared, wholly genuine, protestations of love. She even allowed him
-to kiss her.
-
-“I want you to come with me,” he had said—“to come away now.”
-
-And with a fierceness which astonished him she had answered:
-
-“Yes—yes— I don’t care—I will—will. Seems rather funny to me! All
-right. I’ve heaps of clothes—I’ll come—yes.”
-
-At Crawley a tyre burst, and it took nearly an hour to wake up a garage
-and procure a new outer cover. It was after 10.30 when they drew up
-before the Cosmopolis, with all its naughty lights winking at the sea.
-
-Eve laughed as they stood in the foyer, and the porter brought in her
-beautiful new suit case.
-
-“Don’t,” said Quiltan.
-
-For the first time she seemed aware of his presence, and turned with
-kindlier light in her eyes.
-
-“I’m sorry. I’m not playing the game, am I? But it _does_ seem funny. I
-suppose we have supper now. Will you wait, and I’ll run up and put on a
-pretty frock for you?”
-
-He would have stopped her, but she was gone with the words.
-
-Rather nervously he entered the great dining-hall and ordered a table
-for two. There were many guests present, and his eyes travelled quickly
-from table to table. Wynne was nowhere to be seen, and with this a
-sudden intolerable excitement seized him. It was short-lived, however,
-for his next glance lighted on the fluffy head of little Miss Esme, her
-eyes demurely lowered over a dessert plate. Facing her, with his back to
-Quiltan, sat Wynne. They were some distance away, and while the room was
-crowded it was impossible to see them from the table he had taken.
-
-Quiltan took a cigarette from his case and passed out to wait for Eve.
-
-As she stepped from the lift he thought her the most wonderful being he
-had ever seen. Fragile—adorable—desirable—everything to set a man’s
-heart on fire.
-
-With a passion he could not control he whispered:
-
-“You dear, beautiful—beautiful dear!”
-
-Her answering smile seemed to come from a long way off.
-
-They took their places, hers looking in the direction of Wynne’s table,
-and a busy waiter approached:
-
-“Ah, in one minute the supper. Wine? Cliquot ver’ good.”
-
-“Champagne?” queried Quiltan.
-
-“I suppose so—yes, of course.”
-
-He gave the order.
-
-A _consommé_ was brought in little cups. Presently a cork popped into a
-serviette and the creaming wine tinkled into the glasses. A few guests
-at the neighbouring table rose and left, one or two others following
-their example.
-
-The company began to thin out, and vistas occurred through which one
-could see people in other parts of the room. The conversation lost its
-general constant hum and became isolated and more individual.
-
-
- VII
-
-“You are a quiet old boy, aren’t you?” whispered Miss Esme.
-
-Wynne started and raised his head.
-
-“What—what’s that?”
-
-“I say you are quiet.”
-
-“Oh, yes.”
-
-“Funny old boy!”
-
-He called a waiter.
-
-“Get me some more cigarettes—these little boxes hold none at all.”
-
-“You smoke too much.”
-
-He played with a cold cigarette-end upon his plate.
-
-“You simply haven’t stopped.”
-
-“What?”
-
-“I say”—she whispered it—“isn’t it lovely being down here—just we
-two?”
-
-“Um.”
-
-He crumbled a piece of bread, then swept the crumbs to the floor. He
-shot a quick glance at her, lowered his eyes, picked up the
-cigarette-end again, and drew with it upon his plate.
-
-“I say—”
-
-“Wish that waiter would do what he is told.”
-
-Esme sighed and stole a shy glance at the clock.
-
-“Isn’t it getting late?”
-
-“Is it? I don’t know—I’m a late person. Ah, that’s better!”
-
-He took the cigarettes from the waiter and lighted one.
-
-When the man had gone, Esme remarked:
-
-“Everybody seems to be going away. Nobody left soon—but us.”
-
-“H’m.”
-
-“I love Brighton. Don’t you love the sea? I do—and the hills—oh, I
-love the hills!”
-
-Quite suddenly Wynne said:
-
-“Must you talk such a lot?”
-
-“Oh,” said Esme, “you old cross patch.”
-
-A party of people at a round table in the centre of the room rose and
-moved toward the door.
-
-
- VIII
-
-Eve and Quiltan sat in silence as course after course was brought to
-them. His few efforts to talk had broken down, and all he could do was
-to look at her—look at this woman who _might_ become his.
-
-As the party from the round table passed them by he said:
-
-“Emptying now.”
-
-Eve roused herself, and her eyes wandered round the room. Suddenly she
-leant forward with a sharp little gasp in her throat.
-
-“What is it?” said Quiltan, although he knew.
-
-She ignored his question. Her eyes were wide open and bright. Then she
-laughed a cold, quick laugh.
-
-“I’m glad,” she whispered—“yes, I’m glad—glad. Look!”
-
-She did not notice if he acted well or ill when he saw the sight he had
-expected to see.
-
-“What are you going to do?” he asked.
-
-“I don’t know—don’t care.”
-
-She did not move her eyes from Wynne’s table, and after a moment a
-puzzled look came into her face. She had recognized his attitude. He
-always sat like that, with his head down and his fingers fidgeting, when
-he was irritated. But why now? A sudden insane desire possessed her to
-spring to her feet and cry aloud.
-
-Then Esme’s eyes, wandering once more toward the clock, met hers, and in
-an instant Eve smiled and bowed. Esme looked surprised, and Eve smiled
-again.
-
-“Some one over there knows me,” said Esme, “but I don’t know her. No,
-you mustn’t look, ’cos she’s too pretty.”
-
-Wynne turned slowly in the direction indicated, and saw. His napkin
-dropped to the floor, and unsteadily he rose to his feet. He rubbed one
-hand over his eyes as though to clear the vision. He took a few quick
-steps to the centre of the room—stopped—then came on again.
-
-And all the while Eve kept her eyes on his.
-
-Beside her table he stopped, and looked from one to the other, his mouth
-twitching and his face strangely white.
-
-“Yes—well?” he said, as if expecting they would be ready with
-explanation.
-
-“What are you doing here?”
-
-“Or you?” she answered.
-
-“What’s _he_ doing?”
-
-“Or _she_?”
-
-“Come on.”
-
-“Can’t you see?”
-
-“No.”
-
-“We said when we took the leap we’d take it together. We are.”
-
-Quiltan rose and moved a little away.
-
-“I shall want you,” whispered Wynne.
-
-“No, you won’t,” said Eve.
-
-Quiltan walked from the room. In the hall he waited indecisively. Then
-he remembered the flash of a light seen in Wynne’s eyes—a light of
-possession—wild, primal, outraged possession. He drew a quick
-conclusion.
-
-“I’m no good,” he thought. Then, turning to the porter, “I want that car
-of mine.” He waited in the porch until it came.
-
-Wynne jerked his head toward the door.
-
-“Out of this,” he said. “Can’t talk here.”
-
-He moved to the half-light of a deserted winter garden beyond the
-dining-hall, and suddenly he spoke, very fast and hoarsely:
-
-“You and that fellar—wasn’t true!”
-
-“Yes it was.”
-
-“God!”
-
-“Why not?”
-
-“God! But you’re mine.”
-
-“You say that.”
-
-“Mine.”
-
-“In what possible way?”
-
-“You are—you are! My woman—mine!”
-
-“And that other one?”
-
-“That! Nothing—it’s you—you!”
-
-He clenched and unclenched his hands. Then caught at a random hope:
-
-“You knew I was here—came because of that.”
-
-She shook her head.
-
-“You did.”
-
-“I came with him.”
-
-His hands fell on her shoulders and shook her fiercely.
-
-“For Christ’s sake! no, that’s not the reason!”
-
-The wild agony in his voice started the honest answer:
-
-“I came because of what you’re doing.”
-
-He stopped, caught his breath, took fresh fear, and sobbed out:
-
-“But—but you’ve never looked—like this before—you never looked like
-this for _me_.”
-
-“Did you ever want me to look like this for you? Did you ever——
-Oh—oh—oh!”
-
-She turned, covered her eyes with her hands, and fell sobbing on to a
-chair.
-
-And he fell on his knees beside her, and fought to draw away her hands,
-calling:
-
-“Oh, God! I haven’t lost you! For God’s sake!—for Christ’s sake!—I
-haven’t lost you!”
-
-
- IX
-
-Miss Esme sat at her table wearing an expression of absolute amazement.
-A slight but growing tendency toward tears emphasized itself in her
-small and brittle soul. She, of all the guests, remained in the room.
-Presently the lights were lowered one by one, and presently an elderly
-gentleman detached himself from a shadowy seat in a window corner and
-came toward her.
-
-“Don’t you think you’d better be going?” he said, in the kindliest
-possible way.
-
-Esme started.
-
-“I beg your pardon—n-no, I must wait for my husband.”
-
-“Dear me! I shouldn’t do that, because—I mean—after all—you haven’t
-one—and he has a wife already.”
-
-“Oh!” she exclaimed, “then that—”
-
-“Quite so. Splendid, isn’t it?”
-
-“But—who are you?”
-
-“Just a friend.”
-
-“Of course,” said Esme, trying to recover a grain of lost prestige. “I
-hadn’t any idea he was married.”
-
-“’Course not. Not in the least to blame.”
-
-“Fancy his being married!”
-
-“I’m doing that,” said Clem, with rather a wonderful expression on his
-face. “But, look here, suppose we do the rest of our fancyin’ in the
-12.30 to town? Nice time to catch it.”
-
-“Well, I can’t stop here, can I?”
-
-“Wouldn’t do.”
-
-They had a first-class compartment all to themselves, and Uncle Clem
-made a most favourable impression upon Miss Esme. She thought him such a
-nice old gentleman. He talked of such pleasant things in such a pleasant
-way. He wasn’t a bit prudish, and seemed to think she had done perfectly
-right in coming away with Wynne.
-
-“Still, I do think it was very wrong of him, as he was married,” she
-said.
-
-“Yes—yes—yes. Still, it’s a queer world. You see he may have forgotten
-he was married—some folk do. He may never really have known—but he
-_will_ know. My dear, it isn’t until we realize the wonder of another
-that we become wonderful ourselves. You don’t know what you’ve done for
-that young man.”
-
-“Somehow I don’t believe I should like to have married him,” said Esme,
-thoughtfully.
-
-“You don’t! No! Well, there you are, you see! Yet somebody is always
-wanted by somebody else, and that somebody else can always make that
-somebody into something. Victoria! Wouldn’t be any harm to kiss you
-good-night, would it? ’Course not! That’s right Splendid!”
-
-
- THE END
-
-
- * * * * *
-
-Transcriber’s Notes:
-
-A few obvious punctuation and typesetting errors have been corrected
-without note. When multiple spellings occurred, majority use has been
-employed.
-
-A cover has been created for this ebook and is placed in the public
-domain.
-
-[End of _Our Wonderful Selves_ by Roland Pertwee]
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-<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Our Wonderful Selves, by Roland Pertwee</p>
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-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Our Wonderful Selves</p>
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Roland Pertwee</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: October 8, 2022 [eBook #69114]</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p>
- <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Mardi Desjardins &amp; the online Distributed Proofreaders Canada team at https://www.pgdpcanada.net from page images generously made available by the Internet Archive</p>
-<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUR WONDERFUL SELVES ***</div>
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/cover.jpg' alt='' id='iid-0000' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
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-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
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-<p class='line' style='font-size:1.3em;'>OUR</p>
-<p class='line' style='font-size:1.3em;'>WONDERFUL</p>
-<p class='line' style='font-size:1.3em;'>SELVES</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
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-<p class='line0'>“<span class='it'>Of making many books there is no end:</span></p>
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>and much study is a weariness of the flesh.</span>”</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;<span class='sc'>Ecclesiastes</span> XII, 12.</p>
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-
-<hr class='pbk'/>
-
-<div class='lgc' style=''> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line' style='font-size:2em;font-weight:bold;'>OUR</p>
-<p class='line' style='font-size:2em;font-weight:bold;'>WONDERFUL SELVES</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line'>BY</p>
-<p class='line'><span style='font-size:larger'>ROLAND PERTWEE</span></p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/logo.jpg' alt='' id='iid-0001' style='width:15%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line'>NEW YORK &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<span style='font-size:larger'>ALFRED • A • KNOPF</span> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;MCMXIX</p>
-</div> <!-- end rend -->
-
-<hr class='pbk'/>
-
-<div class='lgc' style=''> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line'>COPYRIGHT, 1919, BY</p>
-<p class='line'>ALFRED A. KNOPF, <span class='sc'>Inc.</span></p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line'><span style='font-size:smaller'>PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</span></p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div> <!-- end rend -->
-
-<hr class='pbk'/>
-
-<div class='lgc' style=''> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line'><span class='it'>To</span></p>
-<p class='line'><span class='it'>AVICE</span></p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div> <!-- end rend -->
-
-<hr class='pbk'/>
-
-<div><h1>CONTENTS</h1></div>
-
-<table id='tab1' summary='' class='center'>
-<colgroup>
-<col span='1' style='width: 5em;'/>
-<col span='1' style='width: 17.5em;'/>
-<col span='1' style='width: 2em;'/>
-<col span='1' style='width: 0.5em;'/>
-</colgroup>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>Part I</span></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>A Question Mark in Suburbia</span></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_11'>11</a></td><td class='tab1c4 tdStyle0'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle0'>&nbsp;</td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle1'>&nbsp;</td><td class='tab1c4 tdStyle0'>&nbsp;</td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>Part II</span></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>The Purple Patch</span></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_61'>61</a></td><td class='tab1c4 tdStyle0'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle0'>&nbsp;</td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle1'>&nbsp;</td><td class='tab1c4 tdStyle0'>&nbsp;</td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>Part III</span></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>Paris</span></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_115'>115</a></td><td class='tab1c4 tdStyle0'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle0'>&nbsp;</td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle1'>&nbsp;</td><td class='tab1c4 tdStyle0'>&nbsp;</td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>Part IV</span></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>The Pen and the Boards</span></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_173'>173</a></td><td class='tab1c4 tdStyle0'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle0'>&nbsp;</td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle1'>&nbsp;</td><td class='tab1c4 tdStyle0'>&nbsp;</td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>Part V</span></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>Eve</span></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_199'>199</a></td><td class='tab1c4 tdStyle0'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle0'>&nbsp;</td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle1'>&nbsp;</td><td class='tab1c4 tdStyle0'>&nbsp;</td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>Part VI</span></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle0'>“<span class='sc'>He Travels Fastest</span>—</td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_241'>241</a></td><td class='tab1c4 tdStyle0'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle0'>&nbsp;</td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle1'>&nbsp;</td><td class='tab1c4 tdStyle0'>&nbsp;</td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>Part VII</span></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle0'>—<span class='sc'>Who Travels Alone</span>”</td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_289'>289</a></td><td class='tab1c4 tdStyle0'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle0'>&nbsp;</td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle1'>&nbsp;</td><td class='tab1c4 tdStyle0'>&nbsp;</td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>Part VIII</span></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>The Leap</span></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_321'>321</a></td><td class='tab1c4 tdStyle0'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle0'>&nbsp;</td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle1'>&nbsp;</td><td class='tab1c4 tdStyle0'>&nbsp;</td></tr>
-</table>
-
-<div><span class='pageno' title='11' id='Page_11'></span><h1>PART I<br/> <span class='sub-head'>A QUESTION MARK IN SUBURBIA</span></h1></div>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>I</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne Rendall was a seven months’ child;
-the fact is significant of a personality seeking
-premature prominence upon this planet.
-He spent the first weeks of his infancy wrapped in cotton
-wool and placed in a basket as near the fire as safety
-allowed. He scaled precisely two pounds fifteen ounces,
-and the doctor, who manipulated the weights and was
-interested in mathematics, placed two pounds fifteen
-ounces over seven months and shook his head forebodingly
-at the result.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“If he lives he will be a sickly child, nurse.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>This opinion the nurse heartily endorsed, and added, in
-tribute to the kindliness of her disposition:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Poor little thing!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mrs. Rendall did not show great concern at the untimely
-arrival of her offspring. She accepted it, as she
-accepted all things, with phlegmatical calm. A great
-deal was required to still Mrs. Rendall’s emotions, so
-much, in fact, that it was not within the recollection of
-any of her intimates that they ever had been stirred.
-It did not occur to her that the birth of a child, mature
-or premature, was a matter of moment. If it lived, well
-and good, and the best must be done for it. If it died,
-the occurrence must be regarded as sad and an occasion
-for shedding a given number of tears. It was clearly
-useless to foreshadow either event, since one was as likely
-as the other and could be as readily treated with when
-the time arose.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It must not be thought that Mrs. Rendall’s calm was
-the result of philosophy. That would be far from the
-truth. It occurred simply and solely from a vacant
-mind—a mind nourished by the dead-sea fruit of its
-own vacuity. She lacked impulse and intelligence, and
-was, indeed, no more than a lifeless canal along which
-the barges of domesticity were drearily towed. Her
-ideas were other people’s, and valueless at that; her conversation
-was a mere repetition of things she had said
-before.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>When the doctor, rubbing his hands to lend an air of
-cheerful optimism to a cheerless situation, declared,
-“We shall pull that youngster through, see if we don’t,”
-she responded, “Oh, yes,” with a falling inflexion. If
-he had said the opposite, her reply would have been the
-same—delivered in the same manner.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In some cases heredity ignores personalities, and this,
-in the instance of Wynne Rendall, was hardly difficult
-of achievement. From his mother he took nothing, unless
-it were a measure of her fragility, which was perhaps
-the only circumstance about her to justify attention.
-The characteristics that he did not bring into the
-world with himself he inherited from his grandfather,
-<span class='it'>via</span> his own sire.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The grandfather was certainly the more notable of
-the two gentlemen, and had achieved some astonishing
-ideals on canvas, very heartily disapproved of by the
-early Victorian era, and some memorable passages of wit
-which had heightened his unpopularity. He was an
-artist who went for his object with truly remarkable
-energy. To seek a parallel among modern men, his
-work possessed some of the qualities of Aubrey Beardsley’s,
-combined with the vigour of John S. Sargent.
-But the world was not ready for such productions, and,
-casting its eyes upward in pious horror, hurried from
-the walls on which they were exhibited. Old Edward
-Tyler Rendall scorned them as they departed, but he
-understood the situation notwithstanding.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ve come too soon,” he mused, “too soon by a generation
-or more.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>His belief in his art was so great that he determined
-to sacrifice his liberty and get married, in the hope that
-he might have a son who would carry on the work for the
-benefit of a world enlightened by broader-minded civilization.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In due course the son was born, and when he reached
-an age of understanding, the reason of his being was
-dinned into his ears.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Get away from old traditions; build something new,
-dextrous, adroit, understanding. See what I mean,
-Robert boy? Be plucky—plucky in line, composition,
-subject. Always have a purpose before you; don’t mind
-how offensive it is—no one cares for that if you’ve the
-courage to declare your meaning in honest black and
-white.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The result of this intensive artistic culture was that
-Robert Everett Rendall, at the age of sixteen and a
-half, ran away from home and took a position as office
-boy in a large firm of tea-tasters in the City.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>This case presents unusual features, being in itself
-an inversion of the usual procedure.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Old Rendall made one heroic effort to win him back,
-and stormed the City citadel to that end; but here he
-encountered from Robert a metropolitan manner so
-paralysing that he fled the office in wholesome disgust.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Ever courageous, he urged his wife to labour anew,
-and was rewarded by a daughter who unhappily perished.
-The disappointment was acute, and when some
-three years later a son was born his energies had so far
-abated that he made no further effort to inculcate the
-spirit of artistry which had been the essence of his
-being.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Meanwhile Robert Everett Rendall lived a sober and
-honourable life in the City, and heartily abused all matters
-pertaining to art. Nothing infuriated him more
-than to find himself drawing, with an odd facility,
-strange little designs on the corners of his blotting
-paper while engaged in thinking out the intricacies connected
-with the tasting of tea.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The suppression of a natural ability sometimes produces
-peculiar results and the deliberate smothering of
-all he had been taught or had inherited from his father
-brought about in Robert Everett Rendall a deplorable
-irritability and high temper. This he was discreet
-enough to keep in hand during City hours, but in his
-own home he allowed it full sway.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At such times his actions were abnormal. He would
-pick up any object convenient to hand and throw it with
-surprising accuracy of aim at one or another of the
-highly respectable water-colour paintings which adorned
-the walls of his abode.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But even in this matter his City training stood him
-in good stead, for there was very little spontaneity in
-the act. According to the degree of his ill-humour, so
-was the target chosen. If he were in a towering rage
-the 20x30 drawing of Clovelly would be bound to have
-it; and so down the scale of anger to the 10x7 of Beachy
-Head. It made no difference whether the picture were
-large or small, his projectile struck it with never-failing
-precision. The tinkle and crash of the falling glass
-seemed to restore his calm, for when the blow had been
-struck he returned to more normal habits.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Had Mrs. Rendall been gifted with observation she
-would have known exactly, according to his mood, which
-picture would fall, and would thus have saved herself
-much ducking over the dining-room table. Such conclusions,
-however, were beyond the reach of her unsubtle
-soul.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In connection with this matter she produced, and
-that unintentionally, one of her only flights of humour:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“If you would throw your serviette ring, Robert, it
-would not matter so much, but the salt-cellar makes it
-so uncomfortable for every one else.”</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>II</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The news of Wynne’s birth was conveyed to Mr.
-Rendall on his doorstep at an inopportune moment.
-He had pinched his fingers in the front gate, and followed
-this misfortune with the discovery that his latchkey
-had been left in another pair of trousers. Few
-things irritate a man more than ringing his own door
-bell, and Mr. Rendall was no exception to the rule. In
-common with the general view, he conceived that the
-parlour-maid kept him waiting unduly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I cannot think what you girls do all day long,”
-he said sharply, when the door opened.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>To this Lorna replied:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, sir, if you please, the baby has come.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, that won’t alter the price of bacon,” ejaculated
-Mr. Rendall, and pushed past her into the hall.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But notwithstanding this attitude of <span class='it'>nonchaloir</span>, he
-was genuinely put about by the news. He did not admit
-the right of babies to take liberties with their time-sheets.
-To do so was an impertinent indiscretion. The
-other two children had not behaved in this manner, and
-he saw no reason why a special latitude should be extended
-to the new arrival. Already he had made preparations
-for being from home when this troublesome
-period arrived, and now, by a caprice of nature, he was
-involved in all the discomfort that falls to the lot of a
-husband at such a time. It was not part of his nature
-to take a secondary place in his own household, and he
-esteemed that to do so was derogatory to his position.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Throwing his hat on the hall chair he entered the
-drawing-room, where he received a rude surprise. It
-was his habit, before setting out to the City, to finish his
-breakfast coffee by the drawing-room fire. To his disgust
-and irritation he found the empty cup, a crumpled
-newspaper, and his soft slippers just as he had left them
-that morning. Mightily angered, Mr. Rendall moved
-toward the bell, when his eye fell upon a basket in the
-grate. With the intention of throwing cup, newspaper,
-shoes and basket into the garden, he crossed the room,
-but as he stooped to carry out his resolve, a faint, flickering
-wail came to his ears. The contents of the basket
-moved ever so slightly—a fold of blanket turned outward,
-and the thin, elfin face of his youngest son was
-revealed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At that moment the nurse came into the room. She
-hesitated at the sight of Mr. Rendall, then stepped forward
-with,</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, it’s you, sir. Hush, that’s the baby.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“D’you imagine I thought it was a packet of envelopes?”
-retorted Mr. Rendall. “But why not put
-him in the nursery?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The other children have only just been sent to their
-aunt’s, sir, and the nursery isn’t quite ready. Poor
-little thing’s very weakly, and has to be near a good
-fire.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“H’m,” said Mr. Rendall. “I see! Boy, eh? Not
-much good—weakly boys!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, but he’ll soon strengthen up.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hope so. Yes. Doctor’s bills—no good! Mrs.
-Rendall all right?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Going along very nicely, I’m glad to say.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“H’m. Yes. When did all this happen?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“About three o’clock.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not much of a chance to clear up, eh? Cups and
-things lying about! Well, I suppose I may as well go
-upstairs.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The interview between husband and wife does not
-affect our narrative and may well be omitted.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>III</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Despite adverse conditions, Wynne Rendall survived
-the perils of infancy. He was, however, a fragile child,
-susceptible to chills and fever, and ailments the flesh is
-heir to. In appearance he in no way resembled his
-brother or sister—healthy children both, with large appetites
-and stupid, expressionless faces. He had a
-broad brow, which overcast the slender lower portions
-of his face and accentuated the narrowness of his
-shoulders. His eyes were restless and very bright; they
-flickered inquiry at every object which passed before
-their focal plane. His attention was readily attracted
-to anything unusual even in his early pram days. On
-one occasion he saw a balloon floating over the houses
-at a low altitude, and his perambulator never passed the
-spot above which he had seen it, without his eyes lifting
-toward the skies in anxious search. Wynne’s nurse was
-a conscientious little being, and took a fierce pride in
-the prowess of her charge.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The way ’e notices, you know. Never forgets so
-much as anything,” she would confide to other nurses
-as they pursued their way toward the gardens. “Knows
-’is own mind, ’e does, and isn’t afraid to let you know
-it, either.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Certainly Wynne held ideas regarding the proper
-conduct of babies and did not hesitate to raise his voice
-in displeasure when occasion demanded. In this, however,
-he showed a logical disposition, for he never cried
-for the sake of crying. Of toys he very soon tired, and
-signified lack of interest by throwing them from his
-pram at moments when his actions were unobserved.
-As a rule he showed some enthusiasm with the arrival
-of a new toy, and cherished it dearly for two or three
-days, but directly the novelty had worn off he lost no
-time in ridding himself of its society. If he were
-caught in the act, and the toy restored to him, he would
-cry very heartily, bite his hands, and kick his feet.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Unlike most children, his first adventures with talking
-did not consist in repetition of the words “mummie”
-and “daddy.” The nurse did her best to persuade him,
-but he was obdurate, and declined to accept the view
-that they should take precedence in forming a vocabulary.
-Trees, sky and water he articulated, almost perfectly,
-before bothering about nouns defining mere mortals.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>IV</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At the age of four and a half he was sent to a kindergarten,
-where he found many things to wonder about.
-He spent a year or more wondering. He wondered
-about the ribbons that tied little girls’ hair, and why hair
-need be tied, since it was pleasanter to look upon in riot.
-He wondered why the lady who kept the school had a
-chain to her eye-glasses, since they gripped her nose so
-securely that the danger of their falling off was
-negligible. He wondered why A was A, and not for
-example S, and would not accept it as being so without
-a reason being furnished. Also he wondered why he
-should be set tasks involving the plaiting of coloured
-strips of paper, which were tiresome to perform and unsightly
-when finished.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why need I?” he asked petulantly. “Grown-ups
-don’t. They are ugly and silly.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You mustn’t say that, Wynne,” reproved the mistress.
-“Besides it isn’t true. Doesn’t your mother do
-pretty embroidery? I am sure she does.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The logic of the reply pleased him, but it also set him
-speculating why his mother devoted her time to such
-profitless employment. The designs she worked were
-stereotyped and geometrical. It seemed impossible any
-one could wish to be associated with such productions,
-and yet, when he came to reflect upon the matter, he
-realized that most of her time was spent stitching at
-them.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At the first opportunity he said:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Mummie, why do you do that?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Because it is pretty,” she replied.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There must be something wrong then, he decided.
-Either she had used the wrong word, or the natural
-forms which he had decided were “pretty” were not
-pretty at all. The train of thought was a little complex,
-so he questioned afresh:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What are they for when you’ve done?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Antimacassars.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What’s antercassars?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It means something you put over the back of a
-chair to prevent the grease from people’s hair spoiling
-the coverings.” Mrs. Rendall’s grandmother had provided
-her with this valuable piece of knowledge.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh,” said Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>His eyes roamed round the precise semi-circle of small
-drawing-room chairs, each complete with its detachable
-antimacassar. As he looked it struck him that the
-backs of these chairs were so low that no grown-up
-person could bring his head into contact with them unless
-he sat upon the floor. Wherefore it was clear that
-his mother was making provision against a danger which
-did not exist.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>With this discovery awoke the impression that she
-could hardly be a lady of sound intelligence. Rather
-fearfully he advanced the theory that her labours were
-in vain.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t bother your head about these things,” said Mrs.
-Rendall. “Plenty of time to think of them when you
-are grown up.” And she threaded her needle with a
-strand of crimson silk.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne passed from the room disturbed by many
-doubts. To the best of his ability he had proved to his
-mother that antimacassars in no sense were antimacassars,
-and, in defiance of his logic, she continued to produce
-them. Moreover, she had said they were pretty,
-and they were <span class='it'>not</span> pretty—she had said they were antimacassars
-and they were <span class='it'>not</span> antimacassars. Could her
-word, therefore, be relied upon in other matters? For
-instance, when she announced at table, “You have had
-quite enough;” or at night, “It is time to go to bed,”
-might it not, in reality, be an occasion for a “second
-helping” or another hour at play? It was reasonable
-to suppose so.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He decided it would be expedient to keep his eyes
-open and watch the habits of grown-ups more closely in
-the future.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>V</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The next serious impression on Wynne’s susceptible
-brain was the discovery of routine, and he conceived for
-it an instant dislike. To him it appeared a grievous
-state of affairs that nearly all matters were guided by
-the clock rather than by circumstance. One had one’s
-breakfast not because one was hungry, but because it
-was half-past eight, and so on with a mass of other details,
-great and small, throughout the day. That people
-should wilfully enslave themselves to a mere mechanical
-contrivance, instead of rising superior to the calls of
-time and place, was incomprehensible to Wynne. He
-could not appreciate how regularity and repetition in
-any sense benefited the individual. He observed how
-a breakdown in the time-table of events was a sure signal
-for high words from his father, and an aggravated sense
-of calamity which ran through every department of the
-house. True, a late breakfast presaged the loss of a
-train, and so much time less at the office, but surely this
-was no matter for melancholy? It argued a poor spirit
-that could not rejoice at an extra quarter of an hour in
-bed, or delaying the pursuit of irksome duties.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne had never seen his father’s office, but at the
-age of seven he had already formed very pronounced
-and unfavourable views regarding it. To his mind the
-office and the City were one—a place which swallowed
-up mankind in the morning and disgorged them at
-night. The process of digestion through which they appeared
-to have passed produced characteristics of a distressing
-order.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A child judges men by his father, and women by his
-mother. From this standard Wynne judged that men
-might be tolerable were it not for the City. The City
-was responsible for his father’s ill-humours at night—the
-city inspired home criticism and such observations
-as:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I come back tired out and find——” etc.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne had a very wholesome distaste for recurrent
-sentiments; he liked people to say new things that were
-interesting. The repetition of ready-made phrases was
-lazy and dull—the very routine of speech. It were better,
-surely, to say nothing at all than have catch-phrases
-for ever on one’s lips.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>From this point his thoughts turned to inanimate objects,
-and subconsciously he realized how routine affected
-their arrangement as inevitably as it affected human
-beings. Look where you would, there was always a hat-rack
-in the hall, a church almanack in the lavatory, and
-a clock on the dining-room mantelpiece. Why?</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There was a certain rough justice in the position of
-the hat-rack, assuming that one admitted the law which
-discouraged the wearing of hats in the house, but why
-should one desire to study saints’ days while washing
-one’s hands? A clock, too, would be none the less serviceable
-if standing on a cabinet. Who, then, was responsible
-for dictating such laws? he asked himself.
-Clearly these were matters for investigation.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>An opportunity to investigate arose a few days later.
-There was a new housemaid, and after her first effort
-to turn out the drawing-room Mrs. Rendall summoned
-her to explain that the chairs and tables had not been
-put back in their proper places.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Your master would be most annoyed if he saw this,
-Emily. It is very careless indeed. These chairs must
-go like this”—and the old order was restored.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why do they have to go like that, Mummie?” demanded
-Wynne, when the maid had departed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Because they always have,” replied Mrs. Rendall,
-with great finality.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He was too young to understand the meaning of a
-vicious circle or he might have recognized its rotations
-in her reply. So everything must be done again because
-it has been done before. Seemingly that was the
-law governing the universe.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Speaking almost to himself he mused:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I think it would be nice to do things because they
-<span class='it'>never</span> have been done before.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>To which Mrs. Rendall very promptly replied:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t be silly.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That isn’t silly,” said Wynne. “Why is it silly?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“If you say another word you will go straight to
-bed.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The remark was as surely in place as the clock which
-stood on the dead centre of the mantelpiece.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>VI</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Middle class suburban prosperity was not the atmosphere
-to produce the best results from Wynne Rendall’s
-active, sensitive brain. He could not understand
-his parents, and they did not attempt to understand him.
-His elder brother and sister, being three and four years
-his senior, left him outside their reckoning. They
-played sedate games, in which he was never invited to
-take part. To tell the truth, he had little enough inclination,
-for most of their ideas of entertainment revolved
-round commercial enterprise, which he cordially
-disliked. His brother would build a shop with the
-towel-horse, stock it with nursery rubbish, and sell the
-goods, after much ill-humoured bartering, to his sister.
-She, poor child, in spite of frequent importunities, never
-once was allowed to play the rôle of shopkeeper, but
-continued as a permanent customer until the game had
-lost its relish.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Thus Wynne was thrown very much on his own resources.
-He read voraciously whatever books he could
-procure, and spent a deal of time working out his own
-intricate little thoughts.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Somewhere at the back of his head was a strong conviction
-that the world held finer things than those surrounding
-him. To strengthen this belief were certain
-passages in the books he read. On the whole, however,
-he was rather disappointed with reading. This in itself
-was not surprising, in view of the quality of the books
-to which he had access. It seemed to him that a man
-might very easily devise more romantic imaginings than
-any with which he had come into contact.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>To test the truth of this theory, he took a pencil
-stump and some paper into the garden and tried to
-write about pleasing things. But the words he desired
-were hard to find, hard to spell, and difficult to string
-together. So, instead, he decided to draw the little Princess
-who was the heroine of his unwritten tale. In this
-he was more successful and achieved a dainty little figure
-with an agreeable smile. To some extent this
-pleased him, but not altogether. He was painfully conscious
-that her feet were clumsy, and her eyes ill drawn,
-and that the picture did not express half he desired to
-express. A picture was stationary, and lacked the
-movement and variety of words. Words could describe
-the picture, but the picture could not speak the words.
-Thus his first artistic experiment was fraught with disappointment.
-As luck would have it, his father chanced
-by and flicked the paper from his fingers.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What’s this, eh?” he demanded. “Wasting your
-time drawing! Why aren’t you at play?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m ’musing myself,” replied Wynne, sulkily.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You amuse yourself with a ball, then, like anybody
-else.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It is curious how closely a ball is associated with
-amusement. The average man is incapable of realizing
-entertainment that does not include the use of a ball.
-Reputations have been made and lost through ability or
-inability to handle it in the proper manner. A man is
-considered a very poor sort of fellow if he expresses disdain
-and contempt for the ball. Conceive the catastrophic
-consequences that would result if a law were passed
-forbidding the manufacture of balls? A shudder runs
-through the healthy-minded at the bare thought of
-such a thing.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mr. Rendall’s anger can readily be appreciated, then,
-when his son made answer:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There isn’t any fun in that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No fun?” roared Mr. Rendall. “Time you got some
-proper ideas into your head, young fellow. Be ashamed
-of yourself! Fetch a ball from the nursery at once, and
-let me see you enjoying yourself with it, or you’ll hear
-something. Understand this, too—there’s not going to
-be any drawing in this household, or a lot of damn high-falutin
-artistic business either. Get that into your
-head as soon as you can. Be off.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Ten minutes later, in a white heat of fury, Wynne
-was savagely kicking a silly woollen ball from one end
-of the grass patch to the other.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s not the way,” said his father.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Damn the ball,” screamed Wynne, and made his
-first acquaintance with a willow twig across the back.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>VII</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It is a matter for speculation as to what extent environment
-can smother natural impulses. Surrounded
-on all sides by convention and routine, the spark of
-originality is in a fair way to become dampened or
-altogether extinguished.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Such was the case with Wynne Rendall. He was half
-confident that many existing ideals were not ideals at
-all, and that much that was desirable to develop was
-wilfully undeveloped; but weighing in the balance
-against this view were the actions and opinions of those
-with whom he came into contact. Was it, then, he who
-was at fault? A glance to the right and left seemed
-to point to that conclusion. And yet there was nature
-to support his view: nature with its thousand intricate
-moods of growth and illumination—nature who pranked
-the water to laughing wavelets and tasselled the sky
-with changing clouds—nature who made night a castle
-of mystery where invisible kings held court, and mischievous
-hobgoblins gobbled at the fairies’ toes as they
-tripped it beneath the laurel bushes in the garden.
-Surely, surely these things mattered more greatly than
-half-past eight breakfast, and the 9:15 to town? Surely
-there was greater happiness to be found thinking of
-these than in flinging a ball at ninepins or kicking it
-through a goal?</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>And yet his father beat him because he drew a fairy,
-and his mother threatened him with an early bed when
-he desired to do as others had never done before.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>His brother and sister played at “shop,” and comforted
-their parents exceedingly by so doing. They
-never asked “silly questions,” he was constantly told.
-They were all right, and only he was wrong.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>VIII</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It is hard indeed to preserve faith with so great a
-consensus of opinion against one, and it is probable
-Wynne Rendall would have dulled into a very ordinary
-lad had it not been for a chance visit from his father’s
-brother. Wynne had often heard his parents speak of
-Clem Rendall. They referred to him as a “ne’er-do-well,”
-a term which Wynne took to imply a person who
-did not go to the City in the morning.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Idle and good for nothing,” said his father—“never
-do anything useful in this world.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>If by doing anything useful he implied the achievement
-of business success his remarks were certainly
-true, and yet there were features in Clementine Rendall
-which called for and deserved a kindlier mention.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He was born, it will be remembered, at a time when
-his father’s virility had to some extent abated. He was,
-in a way, an old man’s child, free from all ambitions
-toward personal advancement. Heredity had endowed
-him with imagination, appreciation, a charming exterior,
-a fascinating address, and an infinite capacity for doing
-nothing. At the clubs—and he was a member of many—his
-appearance was always greeted with enthusiasm.
-Few men could claim a greater popularity with both
-men and women, and his generosity was as unfailing as
-his good humour.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There was no real occasion for Clementine Rendall
-to work, for he had inherited what little money his father
-had to leave, and a comfortable fortune from his mother,
-which he made no effort to enlarge.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne’s father, who had not profited by the decease
-of either of his parents, did not love his brother
-Clementine any the better in consequence. He was a
-man who liked money and desired it greatly. He was
-fond of its appearance, its power, and the pleasing
-sounds it gave when jingled in the pocket.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At the reading of the will there had been something
-of a scene on account of a piece of posthumous
-fun from the late Edward’s pen:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“To my son Clementine I will and bequeath my
-entire fortune and estate, real and personal.” And
-written in pencil at the foot of the page—“To that
-pillar of commerce, Robert Everett Rendall, who was
-once my son, I bequeath a quarter of a pound of China
-tea, to be chosen according to his taste.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was on a bright Sunday morning that Clem
-Rendall appeared at “The Cedars,” and his visit was entirely
-unexpected.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Morning,” he greeted the maid who opened the door.
-“Family at home?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne’s father came out into the hall to see who the
-visitor might be.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hullo, Robert,” said Clem, “coming for a walk?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Nearly ten years had elapsed since their last meeting,
-and Mr. Rendall, senior, conceived that the tone of his
-brother’s address lacked propriety.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This is a surprise, Clem,” he observed, soberly
-enough. His eyes travelled disapprovingly over his
-brother’s loose tweed suit, yellow-spotted necktie, and
-soft felt hat.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Such a lovely day, I took a train to Wimbledon and
-determined to walk over to Richmond Park. Passing
-your house reminded me. Are you coming?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t go for walks on Sunday, Clem.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do you not?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was at this point that Wynne, who was coming
-down the stairs, halted and noted with admiration and
-surprise the bluff, hearty figure of the strange visitor,
-who wore no gloves and carried no cane, and whose
-clothes seemed to breathe contempt for Sabbatical traditions.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do you not? Why not?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Some of us go to church on Sunday.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do you go because you want to go or because it’s
-Sunday?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne’s heart almost stopped beating. Those were
-his feelings about half-past eight breakfast expressed in
-words. Apparently Clem neither desired nor expected
-a reply, for he put another question:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How’s tea, Robert? ’Strordinary thing, here are
-you—most respectable fellow living—deliberately supplying
-a beverage that causes more scandal among its
-consumers than any other in the world. Opium’s a joke
-to it. Ever thought of that?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, and don’t intend to.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ha, well—it’s worth while. Hullo! Who’s this?”
-His eye fell upon Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This is my younger son. Wynne—come along, my
-boy—gaping there! Shake hands with your Uncle
-Clementine.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne did not require a second invitation, but descended
-the stairs two at a time.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Frail little devil, aren’t you?” said Clem, enveloping
-the small hand of his nephew. “Jove! Robert, but
-there’s a bit of the old man in him—notice it? Something
-about the eyes—and mouth. How old are you,
-youngster?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m nine,” said Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nine, eh! Fine age. Just beginning to break the
-bud and feel the sun. Wish I were nine, and all to make.
-Don’t you wish you were nine, Robert?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I do not.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ’Course you do. If you were breaking the bud at
-nine you wouldn’t graft the stem with a tea-plant.
-Would he, youngster? Not on purpose. He’d pitch it
-a bit higher than that—see himself a larkspur or a
-foxglove before he’d be satisfied. Well, what about this
-walk? Bring the youngster too.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I think his mother has already arranged⁠—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nonsense! If you don’t care to come he and I’ll go
-together. Get your hat, son.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>For the first time in memory Wynne was grateful
-for the hat-rack being in the hall. He snatched his cap
-from a peg and ran into the front garden before his
-father had time to say no.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Apparently Clem realized that an embargo would
-in all probability be placed on the expedition, for he
-only waited long enough to say:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Expect us when you see us,” and followed Wynne,
-closing the front door behind him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on, youngster,” he ordered; “we must sprint
-the first mile or they’ll put bloodhounds on our track.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He gripped Wynne’s hand and raced him down the
-road. At the corner a fly was standing, with the driver
-dozing upon the box.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Jump in,” shouted Uncle Clem. Then “Drive like
-the devil, Jehu. We’ve broken into the Bank of England
-and Bow Street runners are after us.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The driver was a cheerful soul, and he whipped up
-the horse to a galumphing canter.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne was quite speechless from laughter and excitement.
-When at last he recovered his voice it was
-to say:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But you haven’t told him where to go, Uncle.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Wouldn’t be half such fun if we knew. Besides,
-he’s a fellow with imagination—he knows what to do.
-He’ll take us to a secret place in the heart of the country
-where we can bury the treasure. I wouldn’t be a bit
-surprised if he took us to Richmond Park.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He spoke loud enough for the driver to hear, and
-was rewarded for his subtlety by an almost imperceptible
-inclination of the shiny black hat, and the cab took a
-sharp turn to the left along a road leading over the
-common in the direction of Sheen Gate.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Uncle Clem preserved the hunted attitude until they
-had covered the best part of a mile; then he leant back
-with a sigh of relief.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I believe we have shaken off our pursuers,” he declared,
-“and can breathe easily once more. Hullo!”
-pointing to the sky, “that’s a hawk—see him? Wonderful
-fellows, hawks! Always up in the clouds rushing
-through space, and only coming to earth to snatch at
-a bit of food. That’s the right idea, y’know. Never
-do any good if you stick to the ground all the while.
-’Course he’s a nasty-tempered fellow, and a bit of a
-buccaneer, but there’s a good deal to be said in favour
-of him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The look of admiration on Wynne’s face made him
-smile and shake his head.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, you are wrong in thinking that, youngster.
-There’s nothing of the hawk about me. I lack the
-energy that compels his headlong flights. One might
-say that I was a bit of a lark, for I enjoy a flutter in
-the blue, and I can’t help lifting a song of praise when
-I get there.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne did not dare to open his lips, lest he should
-stay the course of this wonderful being’s reflections.
-It was almost too good to be true to find himself actually
-in contact with some one who spoke with such glorious
-enthusiasm and spirit about these delightful unearthly
-matters, and whose conversation seemed to bear no relation
-to time-tables and ordinary concerns of life. So
-he nodded very gravely and edged a little nearer the
-big man in the rough tweed suit.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Uncle Clem understood the impulse, and slipped his
-hand through his little nephew’s arm. He took possession
-of Wynne’s hand and raised it in his palm.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“All of us have five fingers and five senses, and most
-of us use none of them. Yes, most of us are like mussels
-on a rock, who do no more than open their shells for
-the tide to drift victuals into their mouths. That’s the
-thing to avoid, y’know—molluscry. What are you going
-to do with your five fingers and your five senses,
-youngster?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I—I don’t quite know what I will do with them,
-Uncle,” Wynne replied, hesitatingly. Then, with more
-assurance—“But I know what I shan’t do with them.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I shan’t do things because they always have been
-done before.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Clementine laughed. “Not a bad beginning,” he
-said; “but you want to be very sure of the alternative.
-No good pushing over a house if you can’t build a better.
-You didn’t know your grandfather—no end of a fine
-fellow he was—used his brain and his hands to some
-effect. He was an artist.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, was he?” said Wynne, with a shade of disappointment.
-He had never been told before.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Doesn’t that please you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know, Uncle. I think it would be nice to
-be an artist, but⁠—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We’ve got some pictures at home, and they don’t
-seem very nice.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ah, they wouldn’t. But there are all sorts of
-pictures, and perhaps yours are the wrong sort. Now,
-your grandfather painted the right sort. Here, wait
-a minute.” He fumbled in his pocket and produced
-a letter-case. “There!” taking a photograph from one
-compartment. “This is a copy of one of his pictures.
-Look at it. A faun playing his pipe to stupid villagers.
-D’you see the expression on his face? He looks very
-serious, doesn’t he, and yet you and I know that he’s
-laughing. Can you guess why he’s laughing?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne took the photograph and studied it carefully.
-At length he said:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s laughing because they can’t understand the
-tune he’s playing.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Bravo!” cried Uncle Clem, and clapped him on the
-back. “Any more?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne turned to the picture again.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Some of them aren’t paying attention. Look at
-that one—he’s cutting a piece of stick to amuse himself.
-And this—he looks just like his father does when he’s
-wondering if he has time to catch the train.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, excellent! That’s precisely what he is doing.
-If he had been born in a later age he’d have been looking
-at his watch—as it is he is telling the time by the
-sun—see it falling there between the trees?—and he
-seems to be saying, ‘If this fellow goes on much longer
-I shall miss my tea.’ Don’t you think that picture was
-worth painting?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” said Wynne; “but I’ve never seen a picture
-like that before. Ours are all lighthouses and things.
-What is the name of the man who is playing the pipe?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s a faun—or, as some people would say—a
-satyr.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’d like to be a faun,” said Wynne, “but if I were
-I should get into a fearful temper with the people who
-didn’t like my tunes. I should hit them over the head
-with my pipe.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’d cease to be a satyr if you did that. To be a
-proper satyr you must smile and go on playing until
-at last they do understand. That’s the artist’s job
-in this world, and it is a job too—a job and a fearful
-responsibility.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why is it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Because at heart the villagers don’t want to understand,
-and if you feel it’s your duty to make them—your
-duty to stir their souls with music—then you
-must be doubly sure that you give them the right music.
-A mistake in a row of figures doesn’t matter—any one
-can alter that—but a false note of music—a false word
-upon the page—a false brush-mark upon a canvas stands
-for all time.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I see,” breathed Wynne. “I hadn’t thought of
-that. I’d only thought it mattered to make people
-believe something different.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hullo! We’re through the gates,” exclaimed
-Uncle Clem. “Drive on somewhere near the ponds,
-Jehu, and deposit us there. Ever been in the Royal
-Park of Richmond before, young fellow?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne shook his head. His mind did not switch over
-to a new train of thought as rapidly as his uncle’s, and
-it still hovered over the subject of the picture, which
-he kept in his hand.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Keep it if you like,” said Uncle Clem, following
-the train of his nephew’s thoughts. “Keep it and
-think about it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, may I really? It would be lovely if I might.”
-His eyes feasted on his new possession. “Uncle, there
-are two of the villagers who seem to understand, aren’t
-there? These two, holding hands.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ah, to be sure they do. That’s because they are
-lovers.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Lovers?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, lovers understand all manner of things that
-other people don’t. In fact, only a lover can properly
-understand. But I’ll tell you all about that later on.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Later on” is so much kindlier a phrase than
-“When you are old enough.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There, put it in your pocket. What—afraid of
-crumpling it? Half a minute, then; I’ll turn out the
-letter-case and you can have that too.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>And so Wynne came to possess a most marvellous
-picture and a crocodile case, bearing in silver letters
-“C. R.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I think,” said Clem to the driver, as they descended
-by the rhododendrons near the ponds, “it would be a
-good idea if you drove to Kingston and bought us a
-lunch. You know the sort of thing—meat pies, jam
-tarts, ginger beer, fairy cakes—anything you can think
-of. We’ll meet you here in an hour and a half.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He gave the driver a five-pound note and smiled him
-farewell.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was very splendid to be associated with a man
-who would trust a stranger with so huge a fortune without
-so much as taking the number of the cab. Wynne
-could not help recalling the precautions his father had
-taken when once he had despatched a messenger to
-collect a parcel from the chemist’s. The comparison
-was greatly to the detriment of Mr. Rendall, senior.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This is one of the wildest parts of the park,” announced
-Uncle Clem. “If we go hushily we shall see
-rabbits before they see us, and perhaps almost get within
-touch of a deer.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What, real deer—stags?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Any amount of them. They bell in the mating
-season, and have battles royal on the mossy sward.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And can you get near enough to touch one?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not quite. You think you will, and tiptoe toward
-him with your hand outstretched, and then, just as you
-almost feel the warmth of him at the tips of your fingers—hey
-presto! Zing! he’s gone, and divots of earth are
-flying round your ears. That’s why the stag is the
-ideal beast—because he’s elusive.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You could shoot him,” suggested Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, you can kill an ideal, and a lot of good may
-it do you dead. Shooting is no good, but if you run
-after him, as like as not he’ll lead you through lovely,
-unheard-of places. Here’s an umbrageous oak. We’ll
-spread ourselves out beneath it and praise God for the
-sunshine that makes us appreciate the shade.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He threw himself luxuriously on the soft green
-carpet, and felt in his pocket for a pipe. It was not
-until he had carefully filled it that he found he had no
-matches.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This,” he said, “is really terrible. What is to be
-done?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll run off and find some one,” exclaimed Wynne,
-enthusiastic at the chance of rendering a service. But
-Uncle Clem restrained him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, no,” he said, “we must think of more ingenious
-methods than that. You and I are alone on a desert
-island, but we possess a watch. Casting our eyes
-around we discover a rotten bough. Look!” He broke
-a little fallen branch that lay in the grass beside his
-hand. “The inside you see is mere tinder. Now we
-will roll out into the sun and operate.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was some while before the concentrated ray from
-the watch-glass produced a spark upon the wood.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Blow for all you are worth,” cried Uncle Clem.
-“Splendid—it is beginning to catch! Oh! blow again,
-Friday—see it smoulders! One more blow—a gale this
-time. Oh, excellent Man Friday!—what a lucky fellow
-Robinson Crusoe is!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He dropped the ember into his pipe and sucked
-furiously. At last tiny puffs of rewarding smoke began
-to emerge from his lips. His features relaxed and he
-grinned.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We have conquered,” he declared—“earned the reward
-for our labours! But the odd thing is that now
-the pipe is alight I am not at all sure if I really want
-it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Every boy must possess a hero—it is the lodestar of
-his being. He can lie awake at night, happy in the
-mere reflection of that wonderful being’s prowess. In
-imagination, enemies, one by one, are arraigned before
-the protecting hero, who, with the justice of gods admixed
-with a finely-tempered satire, judges their sins
-and sends them forth repentant. But this is not all.
-He can lift the soul to empiric heights, and open at a
-touch new and wonderful doors of thought and action.
-He can enthuse, inspire, illumine, refresh old ideals—inspirit
-new—make dark become light, and light so
-brilliant that the eyes are dazzled by the whiteness
-thereof.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The hero occurs by circumstance or deed, and his
-responsibility is boundless. He must think as a king
-thinks when the eyes of the nation rest upon him—he
-must tread all ways with a sure foot and proud bearing—chest
-out and head high. He must not slip upon
-the peel that lies in the highway, nor turn aside to
-escape its menace; he must crush it beneath his heel
-as he strides along, a smile upon his lips, his cane swinging—the
-veriest picture of majesty and resource.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne Rendall found his hero that Sunday in Richmond
-Park, and worshipped him with the intense devotion
-of which only a boy is capable. God, he conceived,
-must have had some very personal handiwork in the
-fashioning of Uncle Clem. He saw him as a man
-possessed of every possible charm and virtue, without
-one single unpleasing factor to offset them. It is not
-unnatural, therefore, that Wynne should have fallen
-down and worshipped, and not unnatural that there
-should have been a dry ache in his throat as, in the
-lavender twilight, the cab turned the corner of their
-street and slackened speed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let’s say good-night outside, Uncle,” he suggested,
-huskily.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Perhaps he hoped his uncle would give him a kiss,
-but Clementine had something far better in store. He
-threw an arm round the narrow little shoulders and
-gave Wynne a combined pat and hug. The broad comradeship
-of the action was fine—magnificent. Pals
-both! One good man to another! it seemed to say.
-Stanley and Livingstone must have met and parted in
-suchwise.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A capital day,” said Uncle Clem. “We must repeat
-it—you and I. Better wait, Jehu, for I shan’t be
-long.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The atmosphere of the drawing-room struck a chill
-as they entered. From the reserve displayed it was
-clear that Wynne’s parents had been discussing the
-expedition adversely.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Go and change your boots, Wynne,” said his mother.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was a cold welcome, he reflected, as he departed in
-obedience to the command.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s a good boy,” remarked Uncle Clem.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I hope he will prove so,” said Mr. Rendall, devoutly,
-as befitted a Sunday evening.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mrs. Rendall said nothing. She had nothing to say.
-Granted the necessary degree of courage she would have
-been glad to ask Clem to change his boots, but circumstances
-being as they were she was denied the privilege,
-and kept silent.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, there’s a lot in him. You’ll have to go to work
-pretty carefully to bring it out. A rare bulb with delicate
-shoots. Touch ’em the wrong way and they’ll
-wither, but with the right amount of nursing and the
-right degree of temperature there are illimitable possibilities.
-Interesting thing education!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” concurred Mr. Rendall. “A sound business
-education fits a boy for after life.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Business! H’m! Think he suggests a likely subject
-for business, Robert? I fancy, when the time
-comes, the boy’s bent may lie in other directions.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The boy will do as he is told, Clem.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Clem smiled, looked at the ceiling, and shook his
-head.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Which of us do?” he said. “Never even the likely
-ones. You may bend a twig, but it springs straight
-again when your hand is removed. Seems to me our
-first duty toward our children is to encourage their
-mental direction and not deflect it. Don’t you agree,
-Mrs. Rendall?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, yes,” replied that lady, with her inevitable
-falling inflection.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, you don’t,” snapped her husband, “so why say
-you do? No reason at all! In the matter of educating
-children, Clem, I cannot see you are qualified to
-hold an opinion. The first duty of a parent is to instil
-in the child a sense of duty to its parent.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, bosh!” said Clem, pleasantly. “Absolute bosh.
-Respect and duty are not a matter of convention or of
-heredity, they must be inspired.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We are not likely to agree, so why proceed?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“If we only proceeded on lines of agreement we
-should come to an immediate standstill. Let’s thrash
-out the matter. To my thinking, the father should respect
-the child more than the child should respect the
-father. It must be so. The poor little devil comes into
-the world through no impulse of its own. It had no
-choice in the matter. Its coming is impressed—it is
-conscripted into being—that’s indisputable. Then,
-surely to goodness, it is up to us to give it, as it were,
-the Freedom of the City—the freedom of the fields, and
-every possible latitude for expansion and self-expression.
-To do less were an intolerable injustice. Our
-only excuse for producing life is that we may admire its
-beauty—not that it may admire ours.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This is wild talk,” began Mr. Rendall. But Clem
-was too advanced to heed interruption.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The most degrading thing you can hear a man say
-to his child is, ‘After all I’ve done for you.’ It should
-be, ‘Have I done enough for you? Have I made good?’
-That is the straightforward attitude; but to bring a
-child into the world against its will and to force it along
-lines that lead away from its own inclination is
-dastardly.” He turned suddenly to Mrs. Rendall.
-“It must be so wonderful to be a mother, so glorious to
-have accepted that mighty responsibility.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mrs. Rendall fumbled at the threading of her silk
-and dropped her scissors to the floor. As he stooped
-to pick them up Clem continued:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“To know that within oneself there lies the power to
-fashion a body for those tiny souls that flicker out there
-in the beyond.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Clem!” Mr. Rendall tapped his foot warningly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ah, Robert, we know nothing of these matters—they
-are beyond our ken.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A very good reason for not discussing them. The
-subject seems to be rather⁠—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Rather what?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Distasteful.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Is it? Good God! And yet we discuss our colds
-in the most polite society, and bear witness to their
-intensity by quoting the number of handkerchiefs we’ve
-used. We have no shame in trumpeting our petty
-thoughts of the day, but that faint bugle-call that sounds
-in the night and summons us⁠—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I think supper is waiting,” said Mrs. Rendall, rising
-to her feet. “I suppose you will be staying.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Delighted,” said Clem, affably. “And I’ll bring
-the bugle-call with me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I trust you won’t forget that servants will be in
-the room,” remarked Mr. Rendall.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We can send ’em out to ask my cabby to wait.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Clem did not delay his departure over long. His
-conversational tide was somewhat dammed by the cold
-mutton and cold potatoes that formed the basis of his
-brother’s hospitality.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He allowed Mr. Rendall to do the talking, and was
-oppressed by a great pity for his little nephew, who
-had to listen to such irritable and melancholy matter
-at every meal.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wallace and Eva, the two elder children, behaved
-with precision and did not open their lips, save for the
-reception of food. Wynne was discouraged on the few
-occasions he spoke, and was the recipient of injunctions
-not to “crumble his bread,” and to “sit up properly.”
-These recurred with a clockwork regularity that deprived
-them of the essence of command.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The result was to make Clem feel very dejected and
-forlorn.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He said good-bye on the doorstep and walked, alone
-as he thought, to the front gate. Arrived there he said
-in a very heartfelt manner:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“God! What a night!” and was not a little taken
-aback when his brother, who had followed, in soft
-shoes, demanded:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I beg your pardon?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Clem recovered himself a little too intensely.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“All these damn stars,” he replied, with a broad gesture.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“H’m!” said Mr. Rendall. Then: “I hope you
-haven’t been putting ideas into that boy’s head, Clem.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They are there already,” came the response. “Take
-care of them, Robert.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He jumped into the cab and drove away.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>IX</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A fall of rain and a little sunshine make a magic
-difference to a garden bed. The petals of flowers unfold—colours
-clear and intensify—white buds glisten
-beneath their tight-drawn casings.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We can do with a lot of this,” the flowers seemed
-to say. “Treat us aright and there is no limit to our
-beauty and fragrance.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But our English climate is not always amenable.
-Sometimes it replies through the mouth of a nipping
-norther, or by the hard, white hands of frost, and down
-go the flowers, one by one, till only the sturdiest remain
-standing.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It would be no exaggeration to say that Wynne
-Rendall’s soul had been opened out, in that one day
-with his uncle, from forty-five to ninety degrees. So
-many things he had doubted had been made sure, and
-so many fears had been swept aside, to be replaced by
-finer understandings.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Through Uncle Clem the world had become a new
-place for him. It was no longer a public park, with
-railings and finger-boards pointing the directions in
-which one might or might not proceed. He did not
-quite know what sort of place it had become, but he
-was radiantly confident of glorious possibilities. Clearly
-it would be the duty of all who had eyes to see, and
-ears to hear, to perform something in praise of this
-marvellous planet, and the wonderful people (<span class='it'>vide</span>
-Uncle Clem) who walked upon it.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He, Wynne, would do something—he felt the immediate
-need to do something—he would do something
-great. People, beholding what he had done, would exclaim,
-“This is marvellous! Why have we not been
-shown these wonders before?” Then they would feel
-for him the same admiration he felt for Uncle Clem.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In the midst of these rapturous reflections came the
-thought that perhaps he was a little young to become
-the leader of a new movement. This, however, in no
-wise oppressed him. The younger the better. The distillations
-of his soul would be none the less rare for
-being contained in a small vessel. He would play upon
-a pipe to foolish villagers. There were foolish villagers
-around him in abundance. He knew of two in their
-own kitchen—hide-bound creatures who excused themselves
-from doing anything he asked on the grounds of
-suffering from “bones in their legs.” Were there not
-others, beside, with whom he sat daily at table?
-Charity should begin at home (there was a motto to
-that effect hanging on the wall in the spare bedroom),
-it should therefore begin with the lowest storey and
-work up to the highest. These people were of proven
-folly—that much he knew from personal investigation;
-it was his duty to pipe them to a better understanding.
-And then arrived a really disturbing thought. He
-possessed no pipe, nor any skill to play upon it had he
-possessed one. From exaltation his spirits fell to despair.
-Was the world to be denied enlightenment for so
-poor a reason? Such a pass would be unendurable.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne Rendall was nothing if not courageous. If he
-felt an impulse of sufficient force he would accept any
-hazard to give it expression. His bodily frailty and
-susceptibility to pain were no deterrents. He decided,
-therefore, while the spirit moved him the supreme moment
-must not be lost. He would have to rely upon
-circumstance and the fertility of his imagination in
-carrying out the campaign, and not allow his thoughts to
-be damped by knowledge of their unpreparedness. He
-recalled how yesterday the sweet environment had lent
-colour to much that his uncle had said, and reflected it
-would be well to profit by that lesson, and set the scene
-for his new teachings in a fashion calculated to promote
-a sympathetic atmosphere. To speak to his parents
-of a freer life and purer outlook in their drawing-room,
-as they had arranged it, would be to court failure.
-His father was at the City, his mother was out—this,
-then, was the ideal moment to strike a blow against
-symmetry and in favour of æsthetics.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>With heart sledge-hammering against his ribs, Wynne
-descended the stairs and entered the drawing-room.
-With disfavour his eyes roamed over the accustomed
-arrangements. Balance was the inspiring motive which
-had dominated the Rendalls’ mind when they set out
-their ornaments and hung their pictures, and balance
-was the motive which Wynne determined to destroy.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Beginning with his old enemy, the mantelpiece, he
-cleared everything from it. None of these detested
-examples of art should remain, he decided. The marble
-clock, ticking menacingly, was crammed into the cabinet,
-where it was speedily followed by the equestrian bronzes
-and the wrought-iron candlesticks.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne gasped with ecstasy as he viewed the straight
-marble line denuded of these ancient eyesores. He had
-decided that this should be the abiding place for a china
-bowl containing tulips, a flat silver box and some books.
-They should repose there in natural positions as though
-set down by a thoughtless hand. He tried the effect,
-and was disappointed; it lacked the spirit of negligé he
-had designed. Then came an inspiration—of course, it
-looked wrong because of the mirrors of the overmantel.
-These immoral reflectors were at the desperate work of
-duplication, and were forcing symmetry and balance
-despite his precautions.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>This being the case, but one course of action was
-open—the overmantel would have to go. It was a
-massive affair, securely fastened to the wall with large
-brass-headed nails, and Wynne was a very small person
-to undertake its removal. To his credit it stands that
-he did not wilt before the task. He climbed upon a
-table and shook it to and fro until the nails worked loose,
-then, exerting all his strength he heaved mightily. For
-awhile it defied his efforts, but just as he was beginning
-to despair the plaster gave way and the mighty mass of
-wood and mirrors tilted forward. Nothing but the presence
-of two little legs in front which supported a pair of
-flimsy shelves prevented Wynne from being telescoped
-in the subsequent collapse. He had just time to spring
-to the floor and hand it off as the legs broke and the
-whole affair slithered to the hearthrug. The fine swept
-top broke like a carrot, and two of the side mirrors
-cracked from end to end. Wynne lay under the debris
-breathing very hard, and wondering if the crash had
-been loud enough to reach the ears of the servants
-below. Fortunately for him the kitchen was at the
-other end of the house, and there came no rush of feet
-from that direction. He waited a few terribly anxious
-moments, then crawled out and surveyed his handiwork.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>No great revolution appears at its best in the initial
-stages, and certainly this was a case in point. Balance
-he had destroyed beyond all dispute, but in its place
-had arisen chaos. Large patches of plaster littered
-the carpet, and the grate was filled with pieces of wood
-and wreckage. Where once the overmantel had covered
-its surface, the wallpaper, in contradistinction to the
-faded colours surrounding, showed bright and new.
-It seemed as though the spook of the detestable affair
-still haunted the spot, and would continue to do so down
-all the ages.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In that moment of extreme desolation Wynne experienced
-the sensations which possess a pioneer when
-he doubts if he has the strength to cross the ranges.
-He had, however, already committed himself too deeply
-to hang back, and so, with feverish energy, he began to
-drag the remains into a corner of the room. As he did
-so he overset an occasional table bearing a potted fern
-and some china knick-knacks, all of which were smashed
-to atoms.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>With this calamity Wynne Rendall lost control of
-himself. The mainspring of his idea snapped, and he
-became merely a whirlwind of senseless activity. He
-dragged pictures from the walls and thrust them beneath
-tables, he wrenched the green plush curtains from the
-lacquered pole and cast them anyhow—over chairs and
-sofas—the straight-laid rugs he pulled askew, he flung
-an armful of books haphazard on the top of the piano—he
-set fire to the crinkly paper in the grate and threw
-two aspidistras into the garden. An insane humour
-seizing him, he brought in the hat-rack from the hall,
-and hung coloured plates on all its pegs.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At the end of an hour the effect he had produced
-could have been more simply arrived at, and with less
-destruction to property, if some expert from Barcelona
-had exploded a bomb in the apartment.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne’s clothing was awry, his fingers cut and
-bleeding, and his face covered with dust and perspiration,
-when his father, followed by his mother, opened
-the door and stood spellbound upon the threshold.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>With eyes glittering like diamonds he turned and
-faced them. The long pause before any word was
-spoken was the hardest persecution he had to bear.
-Then came the inevitable:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What the devil is the meaning of this?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It means—” he began, but the words stuck in his
-throat.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Are you responsible for this?” Mr. Rendall took
-a step toward him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne nodded. “Yes-s,” he breathed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Is he mad?” Mr. Rendall appealed to his wife, but
-she was too flabbergasted to utter a sound. “Are you
-mad?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” said Wynne. He knew he must speak. His
-whole being called on him to speak, and yet, try as he
-would, the words refused to come. Oh, why, why
-wasn’t Uncle Clem present to say the things he could not
-express? If he failed to establish his position there and
-then the chance would be gone for ever.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You had better speak,” said his father, “better explain
-the meaning of this—and explain quick.” The
-last part of the sentence rose to a shout.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I did it—I did it because you are all wrong—that’s
-why—all wrong.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Wrong! What about?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, everything. It’s—y-you can see, now, you were
-wr-wrong—c-can’t you? Now that I’ve—oh, you were
-so wrong⁠—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There won’t be much wrong with what I intend
-doing to you, my boy.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A hand fell heavily on his shoulder, but he did not
-wince.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Won’t make any difference.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We’ll see about that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Uncle Clem said they didn’t want to understand—but
-you just have to make them understand, and
-go on until they do.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Did he? Well, you’re on the point of understanding
-something you’ve never properly appreciated before.
-Out of the way, Mary.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mr. Rendall selected a cane from the umbrella stand,
-as he thrust Wynne down the hall to the dining-room.
-Over the arm of the leather saddlebag chair he bent the
-supple little body, and in the course of the half minute
-which followed he performed an ancient ritual which
-even Mr. Squeers would have found it difficult to improve
-upon.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>When it was over he threw the cane upon the table
-and folded his hands behind his back.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Had enough?” he interrogated.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The poor little faun twisted and straightened himself.
-His face was paper-white, and his breath came
-short and gasping, one of his hands fumbled on the
-chair-back for support, and his head worked from side
-to side.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As a man Mr. Rendall found the sight unpleasant
-to look upon, but as a father he felt the need to carry
-the matter through to its lawful conclusion.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“If you’ve had enough say you are sorry. I want
-no explanations.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne forced himself to concentrate his thoughts
-away from bodily anguish.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ve had enough—but it doesn’t mean that I’m
-sorry.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Silence!” roared his father.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m not sorry—not a bit sorry.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“D’you intend to do this kind of thing again, then?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. I shan’t do it again—not yet.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then get out of the room—get to bed at once.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Uncle Clem knew. The villagers do not want to
-understand. Wynne groped his way from the room
-and up the stairs. The world was not such a wonderful
-place after all.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Meanwhile Mrs. Rendall had been taking an inventory
-of the disaster in the drawing-room. She sought
-her husband with details of the result.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The overmantel is quite ruined,” she announced.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Damn the overmantel!” he retorted.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Did Wynne say he was sorry?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sorry—no—he’s not sorry.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then I cannot think what he did it for,” she remarked
-illogically.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, don’t talk like a fool,” he implored.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Two of the aspidistras have been thrown into the
-garden,” said she.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Actions resulting from mental suggestion are sometimes
-immediate. Mr. Rendall caught up the sugar-castor
-and sent it hurtling through the air, and once
-more “Clovelly” faced the world without a glass.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh dear!” lamented Mrs. Rendall, “there seems
-such a lot of smashing going on today, one can’t keep
-pace with it all.”</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>X</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Next morning found Wynne ill and feverish. The
-mental excitement and bodily pain of the previous
-day had proved more than his constitution could endure.
-Wherefore he tossed in bed, lying chiefly on his
-side for obvious reasons. Mr. Rendall was thorough, of
-that there was no question. Wynne was able to reassure
-himself of his father’s thoroughness when he
-touched his small flank with tentative finger-tips.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As the fever burnt within him he felt mightily sorry
-for himself. The world had used him hardly when he
-sought to offer rare and wonderful gifts. That this
-should be so was a great tragedy—and a great mystery—also
-it was infinitely sad. The sadness appealed to
-him most, and he wept. He wept very copiously and
-for a long time. The weeping was a pleasant relief and
-a compensation for misery. He felt, if the world could
-behold his tears, they would assemble about his bedside
-and realize the injustice wrought by their deafness and
-stupidity—they would be compassionate and anxious
-to atone. Then, maybe, the great god of expression
-would provide him with the words to make his meaning
-clear. With this conviction he wept the louder, hoping
-to attract attention, but none came nigh him. Accordingly
-he wept afresh, and this time from disappointment.
-In the midst of this final mood of tears his
-brother, Wallace, came into the room.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wallace had been privileged to see the state of the
-drawing-room, and although he knew Wynne’s features
-well enough, he felt the need to scrutinize afresh the
-appearance of one who had wilfully produced such
-havoc. The characteristic is common to humanity—a
-man’s deeds create a revival of interest in his externals,
-hence the success of Madame Tussaud’s and the halfpenny
-illustrated press.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At the sight of his brother, Wynne stopped crying,
-and composed himself to the best of his ability.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What do you want?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wallace found some difficulty in replying. No one
-cares to admit they are visiting the Chamber of Horrors
-for pleasure, although that is the true explanation of
-their presence. At length he said:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Shut up—” and added in support of his command,
-“you silly fool.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You needn’t stare at me if I’m a silly fool,” said
-Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A cat may look at a king,” was Wallace’s considered
-retort.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, I’d rather a cat looked at me than you did,”
-said Wynne, feeling he had nearly brought off something
-very telling.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wallace’s intention had not been to excite an argument
-on reciprocal lines. He desired to get at his brother’s
-reasons for the wholesale smash-up downstairs, consequently
-he allowed the remark to pass unchallenged.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why did you break the overmantel and all those
-vases?” he demanded.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Because they were beastly and ugly.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Beastly and ugly?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, horrid—and there were <span class='it'>two</span> of each of them.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wallace began to feel out of his depth.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But they were in <span class='it'>the drawing-room</span>,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Since the drawing-room in every house is, or should
-be, the abode of art, it was obviously absurd to say that
-the appointments thereof were beastly or ugly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne did not answer, so Wallace fell back on his
-beginnings.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You <span class='it'>must</span> be a fool. Father gave you a good hiding,
-didn’t he?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Did it hurt?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ve never had a hiding.” There was rich pride
-in the avowal.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’ve never done anything worth getting one for.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Haven’t I? ’Tany rate, I bet you don’t behave
-like this again.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I bet I do,” said Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“When will you?” exclaimed Wallace, conscious of
-great excitement, and hoping that on the next occasion
-he might be privileged to witness the work of destruction
-in full swing.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not yet.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wallace hesitated. “What room will you smash up
-next time?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, it isn’t for that,” cried Wynne, “you can’t
-see—nobody understands⁠—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then shut up,” said Wallace, and departed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Strange as it may seem, this interview had great
-results in moulding Wynne Rendall’s character. From
-his brother’s obvious inability to realize any motive in
-his action, other than a wilful desire to destroy, he
-turned to an active consideration of what his motives
-had been.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>What was this message he had wished to convey to
-the world, and had stumbled so hopelessly in endeavouring
-to express? It was the first time he had put the question
-directly to himself. He knew he had had a quarrel
-with many existing matters, but in what manner did
-he propose to better them? And the answer came that
-he did not know.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He had committed the very error against which Uncle
-Clem had warned him—the error of breaking down an
-old régime before he was able to supply an agreeable
-alternative. Small wonder, then, if his actions had
-savoured of lunacy to those who had beheld them. In
-imagination he pictured the drawing-room as it appeared
-after he had dealt with it, and was bound to confess that
-his labours had rendered no service to the shrine of
-comfort, art or beauty. Had he himself come suddenly
-upon such a room he would have been disgusted by its
-foolish and wanton disorder.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The revolution had been a failure—complete and
-utter. Sobriety had been dragged from his throne, and
-havoc and ruin reigned instead. Havoc and Ruin—deplorable
-monarchs both, of senseless countenance and
-destructive hands. Small wonder if their subjects struck
-at them with sticks and staves. Small wonder if they
-could not see the ideals that lay hidden behind the
-wreckage of the great upheaval.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The fact stood out clearly that his talents were not
-ripe. The time had not come when his song should
-thrill the world. But come it should, some day. To
-that end all his energies should be conserved. Yes, he
-would make the world a listener, but he would give
-it full measure for its attention, and even though each
-note should cut them as a knife—it should not be the
-gross stab of a maniac lurking in a dark doorway,
-but as the cut of a surgeon’s scalpel, who cuts to cure.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne sat up in bed, although to do so caused him
-pain, and registered a vow that he would learn all there
-was to learn, whereby in the end he might teach the
-more.</p>
-
-<div><span class='pageno' title='61' id='Page_61'></span><h1>PART TWO<br/> <span class='sub-head'>THE PURPLE PATCH</span></h1></div>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>I</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A man with a call is a very estimable fellow, but
-is apt to prove tiresome to his companions.
-The same might truthfully be said to apply to
-a child, although cases of a call in a child’s disposition
-are fortunately not of very frequent occurrence.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>After this one excess Wynne’s behaviour provided
-his parents with little reason for complaint. He developed
-a strange amenity to domestic discipline—he
-went to bed when he was told, and did not pursue
-his old habits of asking “stupid questions.” But there
-was about him a certain secretiveness at once perplexing
-and irritating. He obeyed readily, and accepted correction
-in good part, but there hovered round the corners
-of his mouth a queer and cynical smile. His expression
-seemed to say, “You are in command, and what you
-say I must do I will do, but of course your rulings are
-quite absurd.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mr. Rendall endured this inexplicable attitude for
-several months, but finally was so annoyed that he wrote
-the master of the day-school of which Wynne was a
-member, and asked him to investigate the matter and
-inflict what punishments might seem adequate. To this
-letter he received a reply to the effect that as Wynne
-was showing such astonishing diligence at his books he
-deemed it advisable to ignore an offence which, at
-most, was somewhat hypothetical.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mr. Rendall was by no means satisfied of the advisability
-of taking so lenient a course. He considered it
-pointed to a lack of authority which might well prove
-fatal in the moulding of character. He decided, therefore,
-to tackle Wynne himself upon the subject, and did
-so in his accustomed style.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne was working at Latin declensions in the morning-room
-when his father entered.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Proper time for everything,” he said. “Put away
-that book and go out for a walk—plenty of time for book
-reading in school hours.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“All right,” said Wynne, with resignation. As he
-walked toward the door the smile curled the corners of
-his mouth.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Here! come back,” ordered Mr. Rendall. “Now
-then what are you smiling at?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne thought for a moment, then he answered,
-“I shan’t tell you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, you won’t!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. I obey what you tell me to do, and without
-any fuss, but I shan’t tell you why I smile.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We’ll see about that. P’r’aps I can find a way to
-stop it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You couldn’t.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oho! couldn’t I?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, because I couldn’t stop it myself,” said Wynne,
-and walked from the room.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He had learnt the value of a Parthian arrow. To
-remain after the discharge of a shaft was to court painful
-consequences. It was therefore his habit, after once
-unmasking his batteries, to withdraw them speedily to
-new emplacements. This was not cowardice, but diplomacy,
-for there was no value in risking chastisement
-which might be avoided.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The chief point of difference between Wynne and his
-father was that, whereas Wynne only cared to inquire
-into matters of which he had no knowledge, Mr. Rendall
-resented inquiring into concerns of which he was not
-already thoroughly conversant. A man, woman or child
-whose thoughts ran on different lines to his own became
-automatically perverse and troublesome—a person to
-avoid where possible, or, if impossible, to be forcibly
-cowed into subservience to his rulings. As in America
-a Standard automobile is forced upon the public, so in
-his own home Mr. Rendall strove to standardize mental
-outlook and opinion. Hitherto, at the expenditure of
-a very slight amount of authority, his efforts had been
-rewarded with some success, but in Wynne he perceived
-the task was one which bade fair to stretch his patience
-to the breaking point.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne obeyed his rulings with submission, but it was
-clearly evident his acceptance of them was purely superficial.
-In no case was it apparent that his son was
-satisfied either of their justice or value. Such a state
-of affairs was intolerable. Thoughts of it invaded the
-privacy of his mind during the sacred hours spent at
-the City. Something would have to be done—stringent
-reforms—penalties—hours spent in the bedroom—bread
-and water. These and many other corrective measures
-occurred to Mr. Rendall as he sat behind his paper in the
-suburban train. And yet the whole thing was a confounded
-nuisance. He didn’t want to be bothered—that
-was the truth of the matter. Life had come to a pretty
-pass if, after fifteen years of comparative matrimonial
-quietude, a man had to worry his head about the conduct
-of the people who dwelt beneath his roof.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Had Mr. Rendall compiled a dictionary some of his
-definitions would have been as under:⁠—</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Home.</span>—A point of departure and return, costing more
-in upkeep than it should. A place for the exercise of
-criticism—a place from which a man draws his views
-on the injustice of local taxation—a spot where a man
-desires a little peace and doesn’t get it.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Wife.</span>—A person who is always a trifle disappointing—a
-woman who does not understand the value of
-money—a woman who asks silly questions about meals
-and fails to provide the dishes a man naturally desires.
-Some one who may be trusted to say the wrong
-thing, who lacks proper authority over the servants
-and children, and who does not appreciate all that has
-been done for her.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Child.</span>—A being who makes a noise about the house,
-the proper recipient of corrections, the abiding place
-of “don’ts.” A being who occasionally accompanies
-a man for a short walk, and is precluded from doing
-so again on account of ill-behaviour. A creature with
-irritating habits, unlikely to repay all that has been
-spent upon it in doctor’s bills and education.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>These instances should give a clearer understanding
-of Mr. Rendall’s outlook. They may serve also to
-enlist our sympathies on his behalf in the unhappy
-possession of such a son as Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mr. Rendall conceived that a subject that could not
-be understood should be immediately dismissed, and
-he applied the same theory to human beings. Taking
-this into consideration it is surprising that he did not
-pack Wynne off to a boarding-school and so rid himself
-of the source of his irritation. But Mr. Rendall,
-however, was not prepared to take risks where money
-was concerned. Rather than squander large sums upon
-education, the benefits of which his son might prove
-too young to appreciate, he determined that his own
-convenience must be sacrificed. He seriously considered
-the idea of sending Wynne to a cheaper school than
-Wyckley, but abandoned the project as being too hazardous.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wyckley was not a first-class school, but it had the
-reputation of providing boys with an excellent business
-education. To send Wynne to a cheaper might result
-in equipping him less well to earn his own livelihood.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He therefore endured the inconvenience of Wynne’s
-society until he had celebrated his twelfth birthday, and
-then with a feeling of consummate relief dispatched
-him to Wyckley complete with an ironbound wooden
-box and a deplorably weak constitution.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>II</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>On the day before Wynne’s departure Clementine
-Rendall paid a surprise visit. Wynne had not seen him
-since the day in Richmond Park, three years before,
-for his parents had discouraged their intimacy, but
-Uncle Clem still lived in his mind as a very romantic
-figure.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne had been buying some of the kit required
-for his school equipment, and on his return he found
-his father and Uncle Clem in the morning-room. His
-heart leapt at the sight of the big man, still splendid
-as of yore, but the three years of suppression through
-which he had passed had chilled the old impulse of
-enthusiasm which had brought him down the stairs
-three at a time on their first meeting.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hullo, youngster!” came the cheery voice.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good afternoon, Uncle Clem,” said Wynne, extending
-his thin white hand.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Looks ill!” observed Clem to his brother.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mr. Rendall raised his shoulders.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Boy’s disposition is unhealthy,” he remarked,
-“which naturally reacts on his physique.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Clem flashed a glance from the speaker to the subject,
-and noted how the corners of Wynne’s mouth curled
-down as much as to say, “You see what I am up
-against.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re hard to please. Boy’s all right! Aren’t
-you, youngster?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The boy is far from all right, Clem. He appears to
-lead a double life with some private joke of his own.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll ask him,” said Clem.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What father says is true. I have a private joke,
-uncle.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then get it off your chest, youngster. A joke is
-like a drink, and must not be taken alone.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne pondered awhile before replying, then he
-produced his first epigram.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, but you can’t share a drink with a teetotaler.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The subtlety of the phrase pleased him inordinately,
-and he was surprised to see that it produced nothing
-but a frown from Uncle Clem.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Robert, the youngster and I will take a turn in the
-garden.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mr. Rendall demurred, but Clem waved the objection
-aside and led the way down the openwork iron
-stairs to the lawn.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Now then,” he said. “What’s the trouble with
-you? Didn’t like that calculating remark of yours
-one bit.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m sorry,” said Wynne, “but why should I tell
-them my joke, they couldn’t see it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then keep it for the dark, old fellow, or conceal
-it altogether. The I-know-more-than-you-but-I-won’t-say-what-it-is
-attitude does no one any good.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne jerked his head petulantly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The faun was laughing in grandfather’s painting.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oho! So that’s it? But the villagers didn’t know
-he was laughing.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You and I did.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Perhaps. But we shouldn’t be so unsubtle as to tell
-them so. Consider a minute. Suppose we thought lots
-of people were very wrong, and their wrongness tickled
-our humour, d’you think the best way of putting ’em
-right would be to laugh at ’em? Take it from me it
-isn’t. If you laugh at a dog he’ll bite you, but pat
-him and, in time, he’ll jump through hoops, walk on his
-hind legs, and be tricksy as you want.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They always frown at me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Maybe they wouldn’t if you didn’t smile at them.
-Just what is it you are trying to get at?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne hesitated.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You don’t know.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, I don’t know yet—but some day I shall, and
-then won’t I let them have it!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He closed his mouth tight, and there was a fierce
-resolve in his eyes.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then here’s a bit of advice for you. Don’t start
-quarrelling with the world you hope to reform. Remember
-other people must build the pulpit you hope
-to preach from. If you get their backs up before
-you’ve learnt your sermon no one but yourself will ever
-hear it. Lie low and gather all you can from the plains
-before you seek the Purple Patch on the hill top.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Purple Patch,” repeated Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. Every artist builds his tower on a Purple
-Patch, and in his early working days he sees it shining
-gloriously through the morning mists. There is honey
-heather there, larkspur and crimson asters, and all the
-air is brittle with new-born, virgin thoughts. I tell
-you, old son, that purple patch is worth making for,
-and it’s good to reflect when you have got there that
-you came by a gentleman’s way. There are some may
-call it Success, but I like the Purple Patch better. Success
-may be achieved at such a dirty price and the
-climber’s boots may be fouled with trodden flesh. Stick
-to the Purple Patch, Wynne, and you’ll be a man before
-you become a ghost.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Before taking his leave Clem gave Wynne a five-pound
-note.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is a sad thing,” he said, “but a new boy with
-a five-pound note is far more popular at school than
-one without. If I were you I should blow a part of it
-at the tuck-shop and do your pals a midnight feast.”
-Privately he remarked to Mr. Rendall, “That boy is
-woefully fragile. I have some doubt as to whether you
-are wise in sending him to a boarding school. You
-should drop the headmaster a line saying he’ll want
-special care.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I have already done so,” remarked Mr. Rendall,
-with a somewhat sardonic smile. “If you are passing
-the box you might post a letter for me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Clem took the letter and said good-bye. He was
-about to drop it in the pillar-box when a curious doubt
-assailed him. Therefore, although to do so was entirely
-foreign to his nature, he broke the seal and scanned the
-contents.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, no, Robert,” he observed to himself, “most emphatically
-not. We’ll give the boy a fair chance by
-your leave.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>And accordingly he posted the letter, torn in many
-pieces, through the grating of a convenient sewer.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>III</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne arrived at Wyckley in all the rush and turmoil
-of a new term. The boys had so many confidences
-to impart regarding their holiday exploits, that his
-presence was not observed until after tea. Consequently
-he had leisure to dispose his belongings and take a walk
-round the schoolrooms and playgrounds.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>What he saw was new and interesting. The high
-bookcases, crammed with scholastic literature, impressed
-him with the majesty of learning. The laboratory
-with its glass retorts and shelves of chemical compounds
-bespoke the infinite latitude of science. Least
-of all did he care for the studio, in which the drawing
-classes were held. The cubes, pyramids, cones and
-spheres did not appear to bear any relation to art as
-he saw it. His being craved for something more organic,
-and was not satisfied even by the bas-reliefs of ivy and
-hedge-roses. To him these were trivial matters of little
-concern which might well be omitted from an educational
-program. The main hall, with its platform and organ,
-its sombre lighting and heavily trussed roof, gave him
-far greater satisfaction. In such semi-dark surroundings
-he felt that an eager soul might well acquire illumination.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The terraces outside were correct and ordinary, the
-yellow gravel and the deep green grass were too familiar
-to attract attention; accordingly he passed to the rear
-of the building and explored what lay beyond. Here
-he discovered many fives courts—some football grounds,
-complete with nasty little pavilions, and a swimming
-bath. Further investigation disclosed a fowl-run and
-some pigs grunting contentedly in a well-kept sty.
-Wynne found these far more to his liking, and was
-further interested to learn that a pig will devour a
-piece of brick, with apparent relish, provided it has
-been given to him by the hand of man.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>From this circumstance he was about to draw some
-interesting theories on life, and probably would have
-done so had it not been for the compelling note of a
-bell. This bell betokened the arrival of tea, some one
-had warned him of that; they had also warned him on
-no account to be late, so he made his way, hands in
-pockets, toward the big dining-room. A large number
-of eyes assessed him as he entered, and he bore their
-scrutiny without flinching. Oddly enough he was aware
-of an agreeable satisfaction arising from their attention,
-and returned stare for stare in excellent good part.
-Presently some one directed him to a place at the table
-where he found himself with other fresh arrivals.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The inclination to converse is never very marked on
-the part of <span class='it'>nouveaux</span>, and for the major part the meal
-proceeded in silence. Then presently his left-hand
-neighbour, a little boy with a round face and sad blue
-eyes, said:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“D’you like jam?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I like it to eat,” said Wynne, “but it isn’t much
-good to talk about.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>This was discouraging, as the small boy felt, but he
-continued bravely:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t want to talk about it, but I want to talk
-to some one, and I thought that would be an easy way.
-I haven’t made a friend yet, and I thought if you’d
-like to be a friend I could give you some jam mother
-gave me to bring.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Before Wynne had time to reply to this sweet overture
-one of the older boys approached the table.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“All you chaps will go to the gym, when tea is over,”
-he announced. “In fact you had better go now.
-Come on.” So saying he herded them down a long
-corridor to the far end of the building.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Wait in the dressing-room,” he said. “The Council
-hasn’t turned up yet. You’ll be called one by one, and
-you’d better be jolly careful how you answer.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The door was shut and they found themselves packed
-closely in a small room full of lockers. With a curious
-sense of impending evil they waited, and presently a
-name was called out, and the first sufferer went forth
-to face the dread ordeal of the Council Chamber.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was nervy work waiting, since none who went forth
-returned to bear witness to what was taking place.
-Hours seemed to pass before Wynne’s name was given
-by a boy with a low, threatening voice. He stepped
-bravely from his confinement, and, hands in pockets,
-walked into the centre of the gymnasium.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Seated on a high horizontal bar, at the far end, sat
-the four members who composed the Council. Beneath
-them, gathered in rough formations, were other boys
-whose duty it was to carry out the Council’s awards.
-These were the executioneers, and each was skilled in
-his craft. Whether the decree went forth in favour
-of scragging, knee jarring, or wrist-twisting there was
-an expert to conduct it upon orthodox lines. The faces
-of the Council, though not remarkable, were stern and
-resolute, and bespoke a proper appreciation for the
-dignity of office.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Bring him forward,” said a very plain lad, who
-wore round pebble spectacles, and appeared to be leader
-of the movement.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>With no great courtesy Wynne was thrust forward
-to a chalk circle in the centre of the floor.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You mustn’t come out of the circle until you have
-permission,” was a further instruction received. The
-escort drew away and stood with folded arms as befitted
-a stern occasion.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What is your name?” said he of the spectacles.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Wynne Rendall.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Wynne Rendall?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Gentlemen, you heard! Can we permit the name of
-Wynne? Does it belong to the same category of nomenclature
-as Eric, Archibald and Desmond, which we have
-already black-listed?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There followed a murmur of assent.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I thought as much. By my troth, it is a sorry
-name, and makes the gorge rise in disgust and abhorrence.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The magnificence of this language created a profound
-impression in which even Wynne himself participated.
-He was not, however, prepared to allow the speaker to
-have it all his own way, since he felt, if it came to the
-turning of a phrase, he might show them some skill.
-Accordingly he said:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The name was in no wise my own choice, so I can
-take neither blame nor credit for it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Be silent or be scragged, Wynne Rendall.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, what is your name, anyway?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The speaker turned his eyes heavenward as though
-seeking fresh tolerance from the high gods.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Know,” he said, “that by no means shall you ask
-us to betray our cognomens. We are the Council and
-known only by our might. If you are curious, Sir
-Paulus Pry, you shall ask some of these others how we
-are called—but at another time.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>This Wynne conceived to be highly proper and in
-every sense an example of the splendid isolation of the
-Ruler. No sane individual would ask a king his name,
-but would address the question to a chamberlain.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The only fly in the amber was the appearance of the
-Chief of Council, who went on to say:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“For the name Wynne punishment of the second
-order shall be inflicted. Is it met?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is met,” droned the Council, with solemn intonation.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let us proceed then. What manner of man is thy
-father, O Wynne Rendall? Speak us fair, and do not
-seek to hide his calling.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I have not yet found out what manner of man he
-is,” replied Wynne, lightning quick to pick up the
-pedantry of his interrogator, “but it beseems me he
-is a fellow of heavy wit, who bears always a befrowning
-countenance. As to his calling he doth trade of
-import with our brothers of the Ind for the dried leaf
-of the tea plant.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>This speech composed and delivered with ceremony
-created something of an uproar. Cries were raised that
-the penalty of the parallel bars should be summarily
-inflicted. In the midst of a chaos of many voices the
-Chief of Council held up his hand for silence.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Look here, young Rendall,” he said, “you’d better
-jolly chuck cheeking, or it will be the worse for you.
-You answer properly if you don’t want a putrid licking—which
-you’ll get anyway.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then go on,” said Wynne, who was enjoying himself
-immensely. It was a new and delightful experience
-being the centre of attraction, and he felt he had the
-situation well in hand.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Shall I proceed, gentlemen?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Go forward,” crooned the Council.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Are you a gamesman or a swotter? Ponder well
-before replying, for much depends upon this.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I am not a gamesman.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Mark his utterance, O men. Thou art, then, a
-swotter.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I didn’t say so. Don’t even know what a swotter
-is.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Explain,” said the Chief. And one of the four, a
-freckled lad with red hair and a big healthy body, announced:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A swotter is the sort of ass who mugs at lessons and
-thinks more of books than footer.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The Council will sing the Song of the Swotter,”
-said the Chief.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>So the Council sang—</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>“The swotter is a rotter,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And we always make it hotter</p>
-<p class='line0'>For the swotter who’s a rotter—</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;Yes, we do.”</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, we do,” was repeated by all present.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>When this impressive rendering was over, Wynne replied:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I think I am a swotter all right.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Be it remembered,” said the Chief. “Little remains
-to be said. The C. I. D. will now report on this miscreant’s
-behaviour since arrival.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Whereupon a foxy little boy came forward from one
-of the groups, and after making a profound obeisance
-to the Council began:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He has worn his cap on the back of his head and
-put his hands in his trousers’ pocket. I have been to
-his bedder, and he wears a woollen nightshirt and combinations
-instead of pants and vest.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne felt himself flush with hot anger and resentment,
-and heard an expression of disgust from all
-present.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Are these things true, O most wretched Wynne
-Rendall?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, they are, but how dared that beastly little
-swine touch my box?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Be silent—scrag him—scrag the swotter,” came from
-all sides.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t care—he’s a dirty little⁠—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Pin him,” ordered the Chief, with a gesture so
-commanding that he all but fell from his perch.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Very adroitly two volunteers stepped forward and
-twisted Wynne’s wrists under his shoulder blades, while
-a third, with a skill which would have defied the ingenuity
-of the Davenport Brothers, made fast his hands
-with a knotted kerchief.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The work accomplished they stood aside and refolded
-their arms.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Pass judgment,” they demanded.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Judgment shall be passed,” said the Chief. “You,
-Wynne Rendall, have been given fair and lawful trial,
-and are found guilty on several counts. First, you bear
-a name that is unpleasant to the tooth, and for this nose-pressure
-shall be inflicted.” (The presser of noses girt
-his loins for battle, and examined a row of shiny
-knuckles to see that all was in order.) “Second, your
-reply when asked of your father’s doings was too cheeky
-by a long chalk, and for this two circuits of the frog-march
-shall be administered.” (The frog-marcher-extraordinary
-made no movement, but he smiled as one
-who knew full well his own potentiality.) “Third, and
-methinks the gravest charge of all, it is established that
-thou art a swotter, and for this the ordeal of the parallel
-bars must and shall befall you.” Eight boys stepped
-forward, but the Chief shook his head. “Three a side
-will suffice,” he said. “That much mercy will I grant
-thee on account of your miserable size. The punishment
-for the nightshirt and the combinations will be the
-shame of wearing them, but I put it forward that they
-may help us in deciding a proper nickname for you.
-After the punishments have been inflicted you will step
-once more into the circle and declare you will not attempt
-to use your trousers’ pockets until the beginning
-of your second term. This you will swear most solemnly
-by the Goal-post and the Fives Ball. O men! has the
-word gone forth?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It has.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do the punishments meet?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They meet.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let them go forward.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne had scarcely time to appreciate the anguish
-inflicted by the nose-twister before he found himself
-ignominiously drummed round the gymnasium at the
-knee of the frog-marcher. It was a jarring and painful
-means of progression, and almost he welcomed the
-narrow invitation of the parallel bars which loomed before
-him at the close of the second circuit.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The variety offered, however, was far from consoling,
-and during the few moments’ pressure in that inhospitable
-spot he feared his last hour had come. He was
-made to form a buffer in the middle, while three boys
-on either side, bracing their legs against the upright
-supports, pushed toward the centre with their united
-strength. He could feel his ribs caving inward and the
-breath was forced from his lungs. Respite came not a
-moment too soon, and when they drew away he hung
-over the bar in an ecstasy of exhaustion and nausea.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was not until he heard the voice of the Chief announcing
-that he had borne the ordeal in honourable
-silence that he was aware he had forborne to scream.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Help him to the circle,” came from a far-off voice,
-but he shook aside the proffered assistance and tottered
-to the circle unaided.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Your bearing has been creditable,” said the Chief,
-“and that inclines us to leniency. Speak by the Goal-post
-and Fives Ball that the word may be fulfilled.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Then said Wynne, with a somewhat hysterical catch
-in his voice:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I swear by the Goal-post and the Fives Ball that to
-save myself the pain of offending you fools I’ll keep
-my hands out of my pockets for as long as you stupidly
-want.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>And the world became singularly black, the sky full
-of crimson stars, and he sat down awkwardly upon the
-floor with his head between his knees.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>IV</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It would be far from the truth to state that Wynne
-Rendall was popular at school. On account of the readiness
-of his wit and an adroit, if somewhat embittered,
-knack of turning a phrase, he achieved a kind of
-notoriety.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mentally he was always more of a match for his
-physical superiors, as those who came up against him
-in differences of any kind were compelled to testify.
-There was a quality of courage about him that at once
-perplexed and irritated. The threat of a licking was of
-no avail in turning his point of view, and he would
-stand up courageously to a battery of blows which on
-some occasions, by pure vital energy, he would return
-with interest. But in the main his companions avoided
-offering him offence, since to do so was generally the
-occasion of their own downfall. He possessed a faculty,
-somewhat rare in the infant outfit, of being able to follow
-his opponent’s mental processes, and this, coupled with
-a ready power of expression, gave him an instant ascendancy.
-Intuitively he knew the very thing they were
-least likely to desire to hear, and although he was not
-of a naturally caustic bent, he would not hesitate to
-employ it if the situation demanded. Very early he
-made the discovery that loud-voiced, broad-shouldered
-fellows were by no means invulnerable, and indeed might
-very well prove cowards at heart.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The type he found greatest difficulty in dealing with
-was the muscular and sheep-minded lad who from sheer
-natural stupidity was insensible to verbal attacks. This
-type was represented by a fairly large section, and, on
-account of their bulk, could not with impunity be
-ignored. They were a piratical band of burly buccaneers,
-who would undertake any dirty work if the
-premium offered were sufficiently tempting. They hired
-themselves out to smaller boys who desired the “licking”
-of some one they were unable to vanquish themselves,
-and for the service rendered would exact a very
-heavy toll in stationery or delicacies from the tuck-shop.
-Being impervious to conscience, they were only accessible
-by other means.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Two days after his arrival Wynne had his first experience
-of the workings of this band.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He was walking by the Fives Court with Cedric
-Allen, the small boy who had offered jam and friendship,
-when the foxy youth, who had borne witness to
-his possession of a nightshirt, hailed and bade them stop.
-Lipchitty, for so he was named, addressed them in tones
-of authority.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m going to speak to this kid, but you can stop,
-young Rendall. Now then, kiddie Allen, I want your
-Swedish knife.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Cedric quailed before these dread tidings. The knife
-was a most important affair, and boasted a handle of
-bird’s-eye maple of unequalled loveliness. It was reputed
-that this knife would kill a man, and its possession
-had excited an interest in Cedric that might well dissipate
-with its passing. Wherefore, in a trembling
-fashion, he replied:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“My sister gave it to me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Lipchitty was very properly disgusted.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The sort of soppy thing she would do,” he replied,
-and brought a flush of resentment to Cedric’s round
-little face. “ ’Tany rate, I’m going to have it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You aren’t. You shan’t.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“If you don’t give it to me there’ll be a jolly fine
-licking for you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Cedric weighed his chances before replying.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re not much bigger than me; p’r’aps you’d
-get licked if you tried.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t mean to try,” responded the base Lipchitty;
-“I shall get Monkton major to do it for me, and he’ll
-half kill you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Monkton major was no idle threat—a fellow of vast
-proportions with a gross and sullen countenance.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In imagination Cedric saw his beloved possession float
-over the horizon, but he made one final effort.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why should he lick me? I haven’t done anything.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I shall give him some silkworms to do it,” announced
-Lipchitty.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The system was exposed. Terrorism at a price.
-Wynne Rendall’s quick brain seized on the flaw, and
-was away with it in a second.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Right!” he interrupted, “then I’ll give him a
-fountain pen not to do it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You shut up,” warned Lipchitty, but there was
-alarm in his voice.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I shall.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’d better not. If you do I’ll give him a Brownie
-to lick you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne laughed. “Then,” he said, “I’ll give him
-five and six to lick you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Lipchitty trembled, for the price was rising out of
-all expectation. Dared he bounce it another sixpence
-and overthrow his opponent? The risk was great, so he
-temporized with—</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How much have you got? I warn you I’ve ten bob,
-so you’d better look out!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Ten bob! The game was in Wynne’s hands. With
-cruel leisure Wynne produced his adored letter-case and
-took out the five-pound note.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s done you,” he cried.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The sight of so much wealth staggered Master Lipchitty,
-who with a mumbled unpleasantry started to
-move away. But the spirit of reprisals was upon
-Wynne, and he called on him to stop.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Look here, Lipchitty, I haven’t done with you.
-You started this business, and now you are going to finish
-it. It was you who made me out a fool before the
-Council by sneaking into my box. Very well, you’ve
-jolly well got to swop a pair of pyjamas for one of my
-nightshirts or I’ll give Monkton major ten and six to
-lick you silly.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>That night Wynne slept very honourably in a coat and
-trousers of delicate striped taffeta, while Lipchitty
-mumbled in his sleep and dreamed lurid dreams of knife-thrusts
-in dark corridors, and enemies cast unsuspectingly
-into the yawning shaft of the <span class='it'>oubliette</span>.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>V</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The prediction that Wynne Rendall would prove a
-swotter was more than amply borne out by his conduct
-in the class-room.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In most branches of education he displayed voracity
-for learning to an unusual extent. Latin and Greek
-delighted his soul, and his form-master, who was not a
-man of great erudition, was sorely put to it to keep pace
-with the extraordinary rapidity with which he acquired
-a knowledge of these dead tongues. His translations
-were admirable, and he seemed capable of reproducing
-the original spirit and lilt of the lines into English prose.
-Horace, Virgil, Homer were more than mere tasks to
-Wynne; they were delights which breathed of the
-splendid freedom in thought and action of the old
-periods which had passed away.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>To a very large degree he possessed appreciation for
-what Ruskin so happily terms “the aristocracy of
-words.” He realized how one word allied to another
-made for dignity or degradation, and he strove never
-to commit himself to an expression in writing that did
-not bear the stamp of honourable currency.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>From the school library he acquired his taste for the
-poets—one or another of which he carried with him on
-all his wanderings and greedily assimilated. Unlike
-most early readers he did not pin allegiance to any particular
-writer, but pored over all with equal concentration,
-carrying away the best from each in his remarkably
-retentive memory.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But for his incurable stupidity in regard to mathematics,
-it is probable at the age of sixteen he would
-have been head of the school, but mathematics defeated
-him at every turn. He hated figures, and it was characteristic
-that he would never attempt to acquire a better
-liking for the things he hated. He ignored and passed
-them over, admitting neither the interest nor the logic
-that lay in the science of figures.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is a great pity, Rendall, that you will not concentrate
-on these matters,” said the Head. “You display
-ready enough intelligence in other directions.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne shook his head.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I am sorry, sir,” he said, “but I find no satisfaction
-in mathematics.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You should feel the satisfaction of doing a thing
-right.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The reward doesn’t tempt me, sir. Given that the
-answer to a most intricate problem proves to be .03885—what
-has been achieved beyond a row of figures? In
-after years none will look back and say, ‘He was the
-man who found this answer,’ for the reason that there
-is no charm or beauty in his findings. To the eye of
-the onlooker, sir, .04996 would be none the less pleasing.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But it would be wrong,” urged the Head.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nero was wrong in setting fire to Rome, yet people
-still speak of that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They speak in horror, Rendall.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And a certain amount of admiration, sir. He was
-artist enough to play upon a harp while the roof beams
-crackled and fell.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I am afraid your instance suggests a certain laxity
-of moral outlook, Rendall, which one can only deplore.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne looked up at the ceiling and smiled.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He created a stir, sir—that is what I am getting at.
-Good may have resulted too. Possibly a deal of pestilence
-was scorched out of the city in that mighty fire.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The Head eyed him seriously.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let me see, Rendall,” he said, “how old are you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sixteen, sir.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sixteen. You are a precocious boy. You have
-revolutionary qualities that do not altogether please me.
-You are far too introspective, and introspection is a
-dangerous thing in unskilled hands. It is a pity you
-do not cultivate a greater taste for outdoor games.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thank you, sir, but I don’t want to shine in after
-life as a cup-tie footballer or a Rugby international.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Possibly not, but healthy exercise promotes a healthy
-mind, my boy.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I believe, sir, that is the general opinion.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You venture to doubt it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, sir, I would not attach much value to a
-champion heavyweight’s views on a matter of æsthetics.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Æsthetics are beside the point altogether. Too
-much æsthetics is quite as bad as—as⁠—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Too much football, sir?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You are disposed to be impertinent, Rendall; I have
-no desire to staunch the flowings of your brain, but I
-would remind you that God equipped mankind with legs
-and arms, and it was clearly not the intention that we
-should allow them to stagnate from disuse. That is a
-piece of wisdom you would do well in taking to heart.
-A brain that is overworked will conduct its owner unworthily,
-therefore I should tonic yours with a little
-exercise.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne had never held a very high opinion of the
-Head since the day he had been informed of the mysteries
-of perpetuating the species. On that occasion the Head
-had fallen very considerably in his esteem.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He had floundered sorrowfully in his logic, had shown
-embarrassment, and made a muddle of what he had to
-say.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>For some reason the good man had confused the subject
-with the commandment, “Thou shalt not commit
-adultery,” and as his exposition was by no means clear
-on either count Wynne had been greatly perplexed. He
-was informed of certain consequences of sex and at the
-same time warned that indulgence was forbidden.
-When it was over he felt he had been told of something
-which by holy law was impossible of achievement.
-He left the study far more uncertain as to how the race
-was perpetuated than he had been on entering. Incidentally
-he felt rather sick, and in the privacy of his
-little den he had thrown his books about and stared at
-himself in the glass with a new and half-fledged understanding.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He was, however, a singularly sexless boy, and the
-effect produced was of no very enduring character. Sex
-curiosity had no abiding place in his disposition, and
-he entirely failed to understand the impulse which compelled
-some of the older boys to bring opera glasses to
-bear on the windows of the servants’ quarters in the
-hope that some disrobing act might be espied and magnified.
-He would take no part in the whispered conversation
-that forms part of a nightly program in practically
-every school, and found no reason to reverence those
-scions of adventure who, with a wealth of imagination,
-drew pictures of their conquests over undefended citadels.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>For this reserve he was almost unanimously dubbed a
-prig, but with little enough justice. Wynne possessed
-no great distaste for wrong as being wrong; indeed, in
-many cases, wrong appealed to him more generously
-than the accepted view of right.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was the schoolboy form of especial backstairs carnalism
-that provoked in him the greatest distaste. There
-was, he thought, something sordid and paltry about an
-enterprise that could only be referred to in half-tones.
-If one sinned one should sin openly as Nero had done,
-and play upon a lyre while the smoke of one’s sinning
-columned to the sky.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There is in the make-up of most growing boys a substratum
-of nastiness, and it may well prove to be an
-act of divine providence that this should be so. By the
-great Law of Contrast our judgments are made. They
-are made in contrast to the error of our earlier ways.
-From the lowest stage we step to higher planes and look
-back with timid disgust on thoughts and actions we have
-left behind. It is seldom enough, thank God, we consider
-our vulgar embryonic excesses in any other light
-than that of a degrading folly which, by the grace of
-better understanding, we have filtered from our systems.
-It is seldom enough that the most perverted boy carries
-out into the world the brand of his unmoral beginnings.
-There should be comfort in this for the parent whose
-son returns from school before the holidays begin.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne was coldly unmoved by the most lurid
-imaginings of sex. He would merely shrug his shoulder
-and go elsewhere. Yet mentally he was every kind of
-sensualist. The music of words stirred him illimitably—it
-would quicken his pulses and shorten his breath
-as no bold appeal from the eyes could have done. He
-could recognize love in the grand periods of the poets,
-and gasp with emotion at the splendour and passion it
-bespoke; but to associate love with the individual, or to
-consider himself in the light of a possible lover, never
-entered his mind.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>And so he passed over his period of first knowledge
-and learnt nothing from the lesson.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>VI</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne Rendall returned home for the summer vacation
-in his seventeenth year. He was heavily laden with
-prizes and lightly poised with enthusiasm. In every department
-of learning, save only mathematics, had he
-borne himself with honourable success. It was not unnatural,
-therefore, he should have looked for some expression
-of rejoicing from his parents, but herein he was
-destined to be disappointed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>His father had not returned from the City when he
-arrived, but he found his mother in the drawing-room.
-Her old allegiance to embroidering antimacassars had
-by no means abated with years, and as Wynne entered
-she was still mismating her coloured silks with the afore-time
-guarantee of hideousness. But even this circumstance
-would not staunch the enthusiasm Wynne felt
-in his own prowess. The desire to impart the news of
-his successes was perhaps the youngest trait in his character,
-so when the greeting was over he broke out:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ve done simply splendidly, mother. I’ve simply
-walked away with all the prizes, and the classic master
-says my Greek verses are the best the school has ever
-produced.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>His eyes sparkled as though to say, “There, what do
-you think of that?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Had Mrs. Rendall known it she would have recognized
-that here was a moment to win a large measure of her
-son’s affection. Encouragement given at the right time
-is the surest road to the heart. But hers, alas! was not
-an analytic mind. All she contrived to say was:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, yes. Well, that’s quite nice, isn’t it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh!” exclaimed Wynne. “You’re hopeless.” And
-that is a very dreadful thing for a boy to say to his
-mother—and a more dreadful thing for him to feel.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mrs. Rendall laid aside her work, and remarked, “I
-am sure I don’t know why you should say that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, it is so—so deplorable.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What is?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know. Doesn’t matter.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I said nothing at all.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s true—that’s just it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What did I say? I said it was quite nice.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. You did. But don’t let’s talk any more about
-it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And you replied that I was hopeless. You must
-have had some reason for saying that?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, none at all.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It would have been different if I had said it wasn’t
-nice, but I said the right thing and you were rude.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne did not reply, but he breathed despairfully.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is a great pity to be rude, Wynne, and you should
-try to guard against it. You will never get on if your
-manners are not nice. Your Great-uncle Bryan” (he
-was a deceased relation on her side of the family who
-had made a nice little income as a chemist) “attributed
-his success entirely to the possession of an agreeable
-counter-manner.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Preserve me from that,” cried Wynne, and fled from
-the room.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>When his father returned from the City the scene
-in many respects was re-enacted. Mr. Rendall senior
-ignored his son’s classical and literary successes, and
-focused his attention upon the absence of any achievement
-on mathematical lines.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Lot of use Socrates and all these other Latin chaps
-are if you can’t cast up a row of figures!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne smiled.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I fancy that Socrates was a Greek,” he replied.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m not going to quibble about that. He could have
-been an Esquimaux for all the good he’ll do you in the
-City.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne had been expecting this for some time, and he
-replied with a steady voice,</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I shan’t take him to the City, father.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Better not. Better forget all about him and fix your
-mind on things that matter. How did you do with
-book-keeping?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I did nothing. I wish to make books, not to keep
-them.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t want any racecourse jargon here, please.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You misunderstand me. I ought to have said write
-books.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There are plenty of books without your writing
-them.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What a good thing Shakespeare’s father didn’t think
-so!” mused Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mr. Rendall ignored the interruption.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m giving you one more term at school, so make
-the best use of it. You are not by any means a fool,
-and what your brother Wallace could do you should be
-able to do.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wallace was already established in a clerkship whither
-he daily proceeded in a silk hat. Being drawn into the
-conversation he felt it incumbent upon himself to offer
-a contribution.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You will find in the City, Wynne, people are not
-inclined to put up with a lot of nonsense.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I think it unlikely I shall find out anything of the
-kind,” replied Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say you will,” retorted his brother.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And I repeat I think it is unlikely.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Your brother Wallace knows what he’s talking
-about,” said Mr. Rendall.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s it!” exclaimed Wynne, jumping to his feet;
-“he knows what he is talking about, and that is all he
-ever can or ever will know.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Will you sit down at table!” ordered Mr. Rendall.
-“I never saw such an exhibition.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is terrible,” lamented Mrs. Rendall.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You listen to what your elders have to say, and don’t
-talk so much yourself. Your brother Wallace is making
-thirty-five shillings a week.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“O most wonderful Wallace!” cried Wynne. “Villon
-starved in a gaol and wrote exquisite verses, but he
-could not earn so much as brother Wallace.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Look here, young Wynne,” exclaimed his brother,
-“you had better shut up if you don’t want me to punch
-your head.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Scots wha hae wi’ Wallace bled,’ ” chanted Wynne
-irrepressibly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Father! Can’t you speak to him?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Speak to him be damned!” said Mr. Rendall, for
-no particular reason. “He’s got to toe the line, that’s
-what it amounts to—toe the line.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And when I’ve toed the line, what then?” demanded
-Wynne; but none seemed able to supply the answer, and
-the advice to “shut up about it” could hardly be regarded
-as illuminating.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The argument concluded with the brief comment from
-his father:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll talk to you in the morning.”</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>VII</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The matter was not broached again until after breakfast
-on the following day, when Wynne and his father
-were left alone over the empty cups and dishes.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Discuss your future!” announced Mr. Rendall. He
-rose and placed a lump of sugar between the bars of the
-canary’s cage. The canary chirruped to signify gratitude
-for the gift.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Seems to me there is no advantage keeping you at
-school any longer. Bit of practical experience in life
-will lick you into shape quicker than anything else.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“One minute,” said Wynne, “I believe I could get a
-University scholarship if you gave me another term.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Scholarship be damned! I never went to a University;
-no reason why you should go. Not going anyway⁠—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, but—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Quiet. D’y’hear! There can be altogether too
-much of a good thing—too much altogether. I have my
-own plans for you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And so have I,” said Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then you’ll make them fit in with mine—got that?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne’s foot began to tap on the ground and his
-mouth straightened thinly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Go on.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll go on in my own damned time. A little hard
-discipline is what you want and it’s what you’ll get.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I spoke to Kessles on the ’phone last night about
-putting you there.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Kessles?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The warehouse people—don’t you know that?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What do you know? Nothing.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A bit hard on Mr. Kessles then.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Quiet. He’s prepared to give you an opening, and
-I’ve accepted it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s just as well, because I certainly shouldn’t
-have done so.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m not putting up with any argument. You can
-have a couple of weeks holiday, then go up to the City
-like any one else.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne shook his head resolutely.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There is no question about the matter, my boy, it is
-a case of ‘having to.’ High time you began to make
-a way in the world.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” said Wynne. “I’ll make a way in the world—I
-want to and I shall—but it will be <span class='it'>my</span> way, not
-yours.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What do you mean by that?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I mean that I am not going to the City—I absolutely
-refuse—absolutely.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Continue like that and I won’t be answerable for
-my actions,” cried Mr. Rendall.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And you shan’t be for mine.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The determination in Wynne’s tone was extraordinary
-considering his age and fragility. Without raising his
-voice he dominated his father by every means of expression.
-Mr. Rendall felt this to be so, and the shame of
-it scarleted his features.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Since you were born,” he shouted, “you have been
-perverse and maddening—ever since the day you were
-born!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Never once since the day I was born have you tried
-to see how my mind worked,” came the retort. “You
-have done no more than force your mental workings on
-me. All I know or shall know will be in spite of you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Have you no proper feelings?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, not as you read the word. Proper feelings are
-free feelings, new thoughts and fresh touches of all that
-is wonderful and unexplored. You think in a circle—an
-inner circle that constricts everything worth while
-like the coils of a snake. And now I’ve had enough of
-it—enough of you—more than enough.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Enough!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, I’m going—I’m going to clear out and find some
-atmosphere where I can breathe.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“D’you dare to suggest running away?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, I’m clearing out.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Some half-formed thought drove Mr. Rendall to seize
-the handle and put his back against the door.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That won’t stop me,” said Wynne. “It isn’t a race
-for the front door, which I lose if you’re quick enough
-to stop me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Very well,” conceded Mr. Rendall. “Very well—and
-how the devil do you think you’d live! Hey?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I shall manage.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Manage be damned! Not a penny shall you have
-from me—not a farthing—not a bean.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then take back what I have already.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne’s hands dived into his trousers’ pockets and
-pulled out the linings. Two or three florins and a few
-odd pence tumbled to the floor and circled in all directions.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Something in the action deprived Mr. Rendall of the
-last of his self-control. Seizing the silver entrée dish
-he sent it hurtling through the lower pane of the dining-room
-window. It was the first time his temper had
-risen to such heights.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let in the air,” cried Wynne, with a note of hysteria,
-and picking up the pair of candlesticks from the mantelshelf
-he flung first one then the other through the remaining
-panes.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The south-west wind bellied the Nottingham lace
-curtains and stirred the feathers in the canary’s back.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Twirrup,” he chirped, and hopping to the upper
-perch broke into a fine song of the palms that bow so
-statelily in the islands of the south.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Get out!” said Mr. Rendall. “I’ve done with you—get
-out!”</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>VIII</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne packed a suit case in his own time. He was
-not fastidious in the matter of clothes, and books were
-the chief things he took. Oddly enough he had no fear
-in facing the world alone. Possibly through inexperience
-the problem presented no alarming features. He
-did not imagine he was stepping out to meet an immediate
-fortune—education and added years had taught
-him that his singing days were still far ahead. He was
-confidently sure he would arrive eventually, but in the
-meantime the world lay before him—a mighty class-room
-through which he must pass before setting foot upon
-the Purple Patch. Bearing the bag in his hand he descended
-the stairs.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In the hall he hesitated. Should he or should he not
-seek his mother and risk the possibility of a further
-scene. The problem was solved by her sudden appearance
-at the door of the drawing-room. In some respects
-her face had lost its wonted stolidity. She seemed as
-one perplexed by vague understandings. Cain might
-have looked so when he saw death for the first time in
-the fall of his brother, and wondered stupidly what
-manner of thing it might be.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“So you are going away, Wynne,” she said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, mother.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I see.” But she did not see very clearly, as her next
-remark betokened. “Have you packed your clean
-things?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>For some human reason Wynne had no inclination to
-smile at this. It struck him as being somewhat pathetic.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I think so,” he replied.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s right. Did you ask cook to cut you some
-sandwiches?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, mother. I—I don’t think you quite understand.
-I’m not going away just for the day—I’m going for
-good.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“For good!” repeated Mrs. Rendall, in an expressionless
-voice. “Really? Yes, well that does seem a
-pity. Your father had a nice opening for you with
-Mr. Kessles.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t think I should have flourished in an office,
-mother. I want to do and do and do.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You might have gone to the office in the day-time
-and done a little writing in the evening. I am sure
-your father wouldn’t have objected to that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne shook his head. “Wouldn’t work,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, I don’t know. Your brother Wallace finds time
-for chip-carving after city hours. He made me such
-a nice blotter last month—very pretty it was.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ’Tisn’t quite the same, is it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, I don’t know, one hobby is very like another.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m sorry,” said Wynne, “but I’ll have to go.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where will you go to?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No idea.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How very extraordinary! But you might turn up
-anywhere?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes.” He fidgeted. It was hard to find anything
-to say. “I’d better be off.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Have you any money?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. But I want none of father’s—I’ll take none
-of that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You would take some of mine?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why should I?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Because you can’t go away to nowhere without any
-money. Wait a minute.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He demurred, but she took no notice, and went upstairs
-to her room. When she returned she gave him
-two ten-pound notes.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I should have given you these on your eighteenth
-birthday, Wynne, so you may as well have them now.
-I did the same for Wallace when he was eighteen.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was the old symmetry coming out again—a clock
-in the middle, and a candlestick on either side.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thanks awfully much,” said Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is part of what I inherited from your Great-uncle
-Bryan.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Uncle Clem had spoken the truth when he said,
-“Others will build the pulpit from which you hope to
-preach.” Wynne was going out to face the world on
-the reflected gilt of an agreeable counter-manner!</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good-bye, mother.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good-bye, Wynne.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was surprising when he kissed her she should have
-said,</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I think I am going to cry.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He answered quickly,</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I shouldn’t—really I shouldn’t.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Crying is so infectious.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Perhaps I needn’t—but I could—I—I’m not sure
-I shan’t have to.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s quite all right,” said Wynne. He kissed her
-again and hurried down the steps.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The wind blowing through the broken window
-slammed the front door noisily. It occurred to Mrs.
-Rendall that the curtains might knock over the palm
-pedestal. Following the direction of her thoughts she
-moved to the dining-room to take steps. Her husband
-had said Wynne would return—“would crawl back on
-hands and knees”—and suppose he did not return?
-Well, then he wouldn’t.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Hers was the kind of concentration that attaches more
-importance to airing a person’s sheets than to the person
-himself. Crying was of little service, and the impulse
-had lessened with the peril of the palm pedestal
-to be considered.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>IX</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Many courageous people are nervous to a fault in
-certain directions.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne Rendall possessed the pluck of the devil where
-his point of view or ideals were at stake, but in the
-performance of simple everyday affairs he was afflicted
-with a great shyness.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He hovered fearfully before the portals of several
-small hotels in the Strand district before summoning
-up courage to enter and take a room. It seemed to
-him the proprietors of these places would refuse and
-ridicule him—that they would tax him with his youth,
-and query if he had ever used a razor. Yet men great
-and small, of important or insignificant appearance,
-passed in and out of the swinging doors with the smallest
-concern imaginable. They dropped their baggage in
-the hall, and conversed with the clerks about rooms as
-he might have helped himself to salt at the table.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In all his life Wynne had never stopped at an hotel,
-and had no experience from which to adjust his actions.
-He realized, however, that to delay the ordeal indefinitely
-would serve no useful purpose. An hotel attracted his
-attention on the opposite side of the road, and squaring
-his shoulders he boldly approached it. His shame was
-boundless when he walked deliberately past the open
-doors and down once more to the Strand.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s the most cowardly thing I have ever done,”
-he rated himself.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In Villers Street he espied an eating-house with an
-uncooked sirloin, embellished with parsley and tomatoes,
-standing on a silver salver in the window. He halted
-and read the various legends pasted to the inner surface
-of the plate glass. “A good dinner for 1s. 6d.”
-“Steaks and onions.” “Stewed tripe.” “Bed and
-breakfast, 3s.” Without waiting for his courage to ebb
-he walked inside. A dirty Swiss waiter pulled a chair
-from a small table and flicked the seat invitingly with a
-napkin.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I want—that is, would you be good enough to let
-me a room. I was recommended to come here—at least
-I think⁠—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A room—sartainly—one minute,” he called a name
-through an open door, and a stout lady entered. “A
-room for zis gentleman. You will go wiz her.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As he mounted the stairs Wynne reflected that there
-was nothing in it after all. It was the simplest matter.
-He wished he had omitted the legend about having
-been recommended to the place; clearly there was no
-occasion for anything beyond a simple expression of
-one’s needs. He had not thought to learn anything from
-a Swiss waiter in a Villers Street hotel, yet a new department
-of learning had been opened for him from
-which he might profit in the future.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The room to which he was shown was very ordinary,
-and made little impression upon him. He threw his
-bag to the bed and seated himself easily beside it.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The landlady lingered by the door, and he ventured
-a remark to her:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I suppose you let quite a number of rooms?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It would be,” she answered, “a bad thing for us
-if we didn’t.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As there appeared to be nothing further to contribute
-to that line of inquiry, he nodded and remained
-silent.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’ll want a bit of dinner, I suppose.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, yes, thank you—thanks.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“If you was to order it now it would be ready when
-you come down.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“All right,” he said. Then, as she still lingered:
-“I think I’ll wash my hands if you don’t mind.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What’ll you have to eat?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Of course! It was so obvious—he ought to have
-thought of that. What could he have? It would betray
-inexperience to ask what there was—a man of the
-world would know in an instant what his appetite desired.
-Wynne had often pictured himself ordering a
-dinner, but now the time had come he felt strangely
-unable to do so. His memory served him with a picture
-of the uncooked sirloin and the tomatoes, but it was
-unlikely they would oven this on his behalf.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The need to answer being imperative, he ordered “A
-chop, please, and some potatoes.” After the departure
-of the landlady he cursed his woeful lack of imagination.
-He had dreamed to feast, as the old emperors,
-upon ortolans and the brains of peacocks, and instead
-he had ordered the very dish which, in the ordinary
-rotation of the home-menu, would have appeared on his
-father’s table that night.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Before going downstairs Wynne decided very firmly
-what he would say when asked as to his choice of drink.
-He would order shandy-gaff, and he would name it
-familiarly as “shandy.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>This resolve completed, he opened his suit case and
-set out his belongings in careless disorder. Beyond
-doubt it was very fine to be a free-lance and possess
-a room of one’s own in the heart of London. He took
-a pace or two up and down the floor and filled his
-lungs with air. The rumble of traffic and the long-sustained
-London note, made up of thousands of fine
-particles of sound, drifted to his ears.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Something like!” said Wynne. “This is something
-like!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He put his head out of the window and spoke again:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You silly old crowds, all hurrying along. You
-don’t know me—but one day you shall. Yes, I shall
-find out all your secrets, and you will come to me to
-disclose them. Oh! you silly, busy, hurrying old
-crowds, I’m getting ready for you. Why don’t you
-look up and see me? Don’t you want to? There’s no
-charge yet. Look while you have the chance, for later
-on I shall tip up your chins and hold your eyes whether
-you want me to or not.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But none was disposed to glance his way. The day’s
-work was done, and London emptying itself homeward.
-There were dinners, warm fires, and welcomes awaiting
-them, why should they waste a glance upon the white
-face of an anæmic boy who hung out over the sill of a
-three-shilling bedroom and blathered his foolish thoughts
-to the night.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne ordered “shandy” with an air of some importance:
-by sheer bad luck the Swiss waiter’s vocabulary
-was deficient of this word. He asked Wynne to
-repeat it, and, still failing to understand, further asked
-how the beverage was concocted. This threw Wynne
-into a blushing difficulty, since he himself was doubtful
-as to the ingredients used. Accordingly he revoked the
-order and asked for some ale, and since he stated no
-particular quantity he was saddled with a bottle of the
-largest size, which greatly taxed his powers of consumption.
-He struggled bravely, however, and the good malt
-fluid gave tone to his being and warmed his imagination.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He rose from the table with the pleasant confidence
-that he had left much of his awkwardness behind. He
-had thought to spend the evening considering his future,
-but in his rosy mood he decided a theatre would prove
-a more agreeable form of entertainment.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Hitherto his playgoing had been confined to a yearly
-visit to the local pantomime, a performance which had
-made no special appeal to him. As master of his own
-choice he repaired to Shakespeare’s Henry VIII., and
-was vastly impressed by the splendour of it all. Here
-and there he found himself at variance with the actors’
-renderings of certain passages, and during the intervals
-ruminated upon alternative readings. On the whole,
-however, the experience was delightful.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At the conclusion he emerged from the theatre in a
-state of artistic intoxication. He longed for a companion
-to whom he could express the views which the play
-had set in motion—any one would do so long as he might
-speak his thoughts aloud. With all these jostling
-crowds it was absurd that any one should be denied an
-audience. Surely some one would be glad to lend an
-ear. There must be some companionable soul in this
-great city with a thirst for knowledge and enlightenment.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The clouds that gather round the setting sun.”
-Wolsey had been wrong to betray so much emotion
-in delivering that speech. A man like Wolsey would
-see grim humour in his own downfall. It was contrary
-to the character, as he saw it, to stress the emotions
-of such a coming to pass. Wynne knew the speech
-intimately, and felt a great desire to repeat it aloud
-in the way it should be repeated. The Haymarket was
-hardly a place for such a recital, so he turned into
-Orange Street and the narrow thoroughfares adjoining.
-Here in a shadow he began the lines, but had hardly
-uttered a sound before a step caused him to stop. Looking
-round he saw a girl walking slowly toward him.
-A fur swung from her shoulders and a bag dangled in
-her hand. The white of her boots seemed phosphorescent
-in the half-light. As she came abreast of him
-their eyes met. Hers were bold and black-lashed, and
-the lids drooped in lazy insolence.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Kiddie,” she said, “coming home?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>And Wynne was startled into replying:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why, do you want a friend too?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She curled her scarlet lips into a smile.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I always want a friend,” she answered.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t,” he said; “only sometimes! Sometimes
-one feels one must confide. I feel like that tonight.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Confide in me, then. What’s to stop you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I think I will. You’re frank—unconventional;
-some one like you I’ve been looking for. I couldn’t
-sleep tonight—couldn’t go to bed.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The smile came again—went—and was replaced by
-an expression of perplexity. It was not the conversational
-formula to which she was accustomed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, don’t let’s hang about, anyway,” she said.
-“There’s sure to be a cab in Waterloo Place. Come
-on.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“D’you live far from here, then? It would be jollier
-to walk, don’t you think?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She had heard that phrase before, on the lips of
-economists, and the business side of her nature sprang
-to action.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“If you’ve no money—better say so.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ve plenty of money.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What do you call plenty?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t let’s talk money. People never speak of anything
-else.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m beginning to think you know a thing or two.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Perhaps I do.” The suggestion flattered him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“So do I, and I’d like to know what I’m standing for,
-too. I’m too fly to bounce, kiddie. Get me?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” he replied. “I don’t understand what you’re
-talking about.” He hated confessing this, but it was
-no less than the truth.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Of—course—not,” she drawled the syllables, and
-leaned against his shoulder with fingers that travelled
-caressingly over his wrist and palm.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“O God!” exclaimed Wynne. “I see.” A kind of
-fear possessed him and he backed a pace.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What’s the matter now?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Only—only that I’m a fool. I must be. You’re
-Adventure, aren’t you? Commercial Adventure?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Now then! Who are you calling names?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I must be a fool.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>This concerned him most, and provided him with
-courage.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“All boys are fools—men too, for that matter. Come
-along if you’re coming.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But I’m not,” said Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why not?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I made a mistake.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A mistake, eh? You’re a cheeky little devil. Who
-are you to speak to a girl? I should like to ask?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I didn’t recognize you, that’s all. I’ve never met
-you before. Another time I shall know. Good-night.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He turned quickly and walked away.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Silly little kid!” murmured the girl, and fell into
-her roving pace once more.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I wish I had told her how rotten I thought she was,”
-mused Wynne, as he pulled off his boots before getting
-to bed. “I might have gone home with her!” He
-tried to picture such a happening, but it brought nothing
-to his imagination. There was not the slightest tremble
-of passion to weigh against his satisfaction at having
-avoided the offered temptation.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Fools men must be to yield to that sort. I never
-should. I think I got out of it all right after the first
-mistake. Original sin!” He fell to quoting Swinburne,
-a poet who had pleased his ear alone.</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>“What sterile growth of sexless root or Epicene,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;What flower of kisses without fruit of love, Faustine.”</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='pindent'>“She was very pretty—pretty figure—and her hands
-and feet were small. Yes, all the temptation was there,
-and I didn’t yield. Glad I met her. It’s helped me
-to know myself. I’m all right.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As he drew the blanket under his chin Wynne felt
-unduly self-satisfied—he forgot, perhaps, that it is easy
-to resist when there is no impulse to sin.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>X</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At the National Gallery on the following morning
-Wynne fell into conversation with an old man. The
-old man wore an Inverness cape and a wide-brimmed
-felt hat, he had shaggy eyebrows, a wispy moustache,
-and his cheeks were seamed and furrowed with wrinkles.
-He muttered to himself and seemed in a fine rage. Sometimes
-he rattled his umbrella and scowled at the passers-by,
-and sometimes he tossed his head and laughed
-shortly. Scarcely a soul came nigh him that he did not
-scrutinize closely and disapprovingly. Before him was
-Leonardo’s “Virgin of the Rocks,” and by his mutterings
-and rattles he kept the space before the picture
-clear of other humanity, as a sheep-dog rings his flock.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As Wynne approached he came under the influence
-of the old gentleman’s inflamed stare, which, being in
-no wise alarmed, he returned with interest.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Keep your eyes for the pictures,” rapped out this
-peculiar individual.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“So I would,” returned Wynne, “if it were not
-that you disturbed them.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ha! You’re like all the rest. You’d run from
-your own bridal altar to see a cab-horse jump the area
-railings. I know the breed—I know ’em.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Concentration is easily dislocated,” said Wynne,
-choosing his words carefully, “attention is dependent
-upon circumstance and atmosphere.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good, enough, O most wise Telemachus,” came the
-answer, with a mixture of agreement and cynicism,
-“the very reason for <span class='it'>my</span> invitation. How the devil
-shall a man keep his mind on this” (he nodded at the
-picture) “while this herd is using the Gallery as a
-shelter from the rain?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne laughed. An attack on the people always
-gave him pleasure.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s a fair statement of the case. The sun’ll
-be out in a minute,” he cocked his eye to the sky-light.
-“Then we shall have the place to ourselves.
-Mark my words.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They’ve no artistic appreciation,” said Wynne, feeling
-on safe ground. “A very bovine race, the English.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Tommy rot!” said the old gentleman, unexpectedly;
-“don’t talk drivelling nonsense. Best race in the world,
-the English, but they won’t let ’emselves go.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, doesn’t that amount to—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, it don’t. You can’t judge the speed of a racehorse
-while he is munching oats in a stable.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, sir; but presumably the people should come here
-to appreciate. They can do their munching at home.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Rubbish! English folk are too shy to express appreciation.
-That’s the trouble with ’em—shyness.
-National code! They keep away from all matters likely
-to excite ’em artistically for fear of being startled into
-expressing their true feelings. Englishmen’s idea of
-bad form, expression! Damn fine people! Bovine?
-Not a bit of it!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Seemingly, to be consistent was not a characteristic
-of the old gentleman, a circumstance which rendered
-argument difficult. Wynne fell back on:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“After all, it was you who attacked them first.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Know I did. Good reason too. A lot of clattering
-feet thumping past my Leonardo! Scattering my
-thoughts. ’Taint right—’taint reverent. If I’d my
-way I’d allow no one to enter here who hadn’t graduated
-to a degree in the arts—or respect for the arts.
-’Tisn’t decent for people to use as a waiting-room a gallery
-holding some of the world’s greatest achievements
-on canvas. It’s degrading and disgraceful. Why
-aren’t we taught to respect art from infancy, hey? And
-pay it proper compliments, too. We have to take our
-hats off in a twopenny tin chapel, and are thought
-blackguards and infidels if we keep ’em on, but do we
-ever touch a forelock to a masterpiece in paint, and does
-any one think any the worse of us however idiotically we
-behave before it? No! Then I say that we are no better
-than hooligans and savages, and have no right of contact
-with the glorious emblems of what a man’s hand and
-a man’s head can achieve.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>This speech he delivered with enthusiasm and a
-profusion of gesture. Wynne was properly impressed,
-and hoped the old gentleman would proceed, which he
-readily did.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good Gad a’mighty!” he ejaculated, pointing a claw-like
-forefinger at Leonardo’s Virgin. “Whenever I
-doubt the Scriptures I look at her and the doubt passes.
-Da Vinci <span class='it'>saw</span> her. <span class='it'>Saw</span> her, and he painted what he
-saw—the flesh and the spirit. See the eyelids, they
-tremble—don’t they? They are never at rest. That’s
-the woman essence—the mother essence—eyes trembling
-over the soul of her child. And the hands! Don’t
-you feel at any second they may move? One might
-come tomorrow and find them any-other-where. Motion—touch—a
-quickening sense of protection. Use the
-place as a shelter against the rain! Damnable! There’s
-just the same amazing mobility in the expression of La
-Jaconde—at the Louvre, but with this difference. The
-Virgin”—he pointed again at the picture—“and Monna
-Lisa, the woman who saw the world through eyes
-of understanding which curled her lips to humour. A
-courtesan some folks say she was—not unlikely—inevitable
-almost! Takes a courtesan to contrive a measured
-expression like that. Lord! if a good woman could
-understand as a courtesan <span class='it'>must</span> understand, what a
-superwoman she would be! Intellect springs from
-knowledge of the flesh, and is sunk in it too—more often
-the latter. The revelation of one sex to another is the
-well-head of all learning. Passion of the soul is the reaction
-of bodily passion—must be—<span class='it'>is</span>. What is it
-Pater says about Monna Lisa?—‘Represents what, in
-a thousand years, man had come to desire.’ True too!
-Even a fool would admit that. There’s a fleeting look
-in the eyes and the mouth that adjusts itself to every
-line of thought—gives an answer to every question—a
-compassion for every sin—an impetus to all betterment.
-Been to the Louvre? Know the picture?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” said Wynne, rather ruefully.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good Gad a’mighty! then you’ve plenty to learn,
-and the sooner you start the better. What are you—art
-student or what?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I am going to be a writer.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How old?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Seventeen and a bit.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then learn to paint first. There are no schools for
-writers, and painting’ll teach you more than all the
-libraries in the world. Teach you values—that’s the
-hinge of all learning in art—values! Relative values.
-The worth of this as compared with that. Teach you
-line—the infinite variety of line—the tremendous responsibility
-of line—the humour—the severity of line.
-Teach you nature—the goddess from whom all beauty
-is drawn, and whose lightest touch has more mystery
-in it than all the creations of man. That’s what you
-want to do. No good trying to write till you’re nearing
-thirty—abouts. Learn on canvas how to ink your paper
-thoughts. Pack your bag and go to Paris.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I believe I will,” exclaimed Wynne. “Where—where
-should I go when I get there?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Anywhere—Julian—Calarossi. The Quartier is full
-of ’em. Make for the Boule Miche, and stop the first
-boy with a beard. He’ll tell you where to go.”</p>
-
-<div><span class='pageno' title='115' id='Page_115'></span><h1>PART THREE<br/> <span class='sub-head'>PARIS</span></h1></div>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>I</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At nine o’clock next evening a slightly confused
-Wynne Rendall was seeking a cab midst the din
-and clatter of the Gare St. Lazare. He had
-escaped the escort of several insidious gentlemen who
-offered their services as “Guides,” and spoke suggestively
-of Corybantine revels they were prepared to exhibit.
-Wynne had been warned by an amiable Customs
-official to have nothing to do with “zes blerdy scoundrills,”
-so he was able to reply to their English solicitations,
-“Pas ce soir, merci,” and move on in the press
-of crowds.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He succeeded in attracting the attention of a very
-aged cab-driver, who controlled two white steeds, of
-even greater age, with a pair of scarlet reins. Him he
-addressed in his best school French:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Je desire trouver un hotel très petit et pas trop
-cher,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The driver seemed at some difficulty to understand,
-but when finally he succeeded in doing so he bade Wynne
-climb inside, and, gathering up his reins, shouted
-a frenzied command to the horses. Seemingly these
-beasts were unaffected by his cries, for they moved
-away in the stateliest fashion; whereupon the driver
-rose to his feet and laid about him with a whip like
-any Roman charioteer. This produced the desired result,
-and the vehicle, swaying perilously, thundered over
-the cobbles of the station yard and out into the night.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This is magnificent,” said Wynne. “Oh, gorgeous!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>His eyes feasted on the broad boulevards—the <span class='it'>cafés</span>,
-with their little tables set upon the pavement beneath
-the gay striped awning—the unfamiliar cosmopolitan
-crowds who jostled along or sat sipping their syros and
-bocks at pleasant ease. Also it was very wonderful to
-be driving on the wrong side of the road and apparently
-ignoring all traffic laws. Once a gendarme with
-a long, clattering sword held up his hand to bid them
-stop, but him the driver ignored, beyond a sharp
-rattle of criticism as they brushed by.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At the corner of the Rue St. Honoré a <span class='it'>fiacre</span> in front
-knocked a man off his bicycle, and proceeded as though
-nothing had happened. The unfortunate cyclist picked
-himself up and started in pursuit, leaving his bicycle
-lying in the highway. A motor bus, considering such an
-obstacle unworthy of changing its course to avoid, ran
-over it, crushing the frame and rims, and Wynne’s
-cab, following behind, did likewise.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Nobody seemed to care. Passers-by scarcely wasted
-a glance over the affair. A desire to cheer possessed
-Wynne. It seemed he had arrived at the City of Harlequinade,
-where the wildest follies were counted to be
-wise.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Further down the road a fight was in progress. No
-blows were exchanged, but the disputants grabbed and
-clawed at each other’s clothing. They ripped out neckties
-and tore the buttons from waistcoats. They stamped
-upon and kicked each other’s hats—pockets were
-wrenched from coats, and shirt-tails sprang unexpectedly
-to view.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne could not help thinking how funny it would be
-if Wallace were to appear in Wimbledon High Street
-with a battered silk hat and his shirt-tail flapping over
-his breeches. There was humour in this fight which
-seemed to justify it—not blood and staggering figures,
-such as one saw outside the publichouses at home on a
-Saturday night.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne blessed the old gentleman of the National
-Gallery who had inspired him to come to Paris.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They passed a great <span class='it'>magasin</span> with blazed arch lights,
-and turned up a tiny street to the left. Wynne caught
-a glimpse of its name as the cab turned the corner.
-“Rue Croix des Petits Champs.” Then the vehicle
-stopped abruptly—so abruptly that the nearside horse
-fell to his knees and nearly dragged the driver from
-the box, who marked his disapproval by liberal use
-of the whip. Order being restored, he pointed to a big
-arched doorway and cried:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Voilà! Voilà!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>So Wynne alighted and demanded:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Comme bien?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Cinq francs quatre-vingt-cinq.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne was unaccustomed to French money, and
-the centimes conveyed nothing to him. He proffered
-four francs and was amazed at the flow of incomprehensible
-invective which followed. It was impossible
-to argue at anything approaching that speed, so he
-held up his palm with some silver in it and said:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Alors prenez ce que vous voulez.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The driver accordingly appropriated eight francs, and
-with a cry of “ ’Voir et merci,” whipped up his horses
-and vanished into the night.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne subsequently learned that the fare should
-have been about one shilling and threepence.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He entered the arched gates and found himself in a
-small courtyard with a lighted door at the further end.
-Above this was written, “Hotel du Monde et Madagascar.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The idea of referring to Madagascar as though it
-were a satellite of the world pleased his sense of humour
-and warmed his heart toward the new abode.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The foyer at the hotel was quite small, and there was
-a little office, on the immediate right of the entrance,
-in which sat a sweet-looking old lady dressed in black,
-and wearing a beautifully laundered cap.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne gave her good evening, stated that he wanted
-a room, “très bon marché,” and told her his name.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Et moi je suis Rosalie,” returned the little concierge,
-with the sweetest smile imaginable.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Certainly he could have a room—it was on the fifth
-floor, and cost but twenty francs a month. That he
-would like it she was sure, since it was “clair, propre
-et tout ce qu’il faut.” She would ring for Benoit, who
-was “un garçon bien gentil,” although suffering from
-“mal é la poitrine,” which would carry him off all too
-soon. “Qui, c’est triste!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Benoit’s appearance, when eventually he arrived, did
-not give rise to any immediate anxiety regarding his
-health. He was a big and cheerful man, beside whom
-Wynne felt painfully insignificant. Taking possession
-of the bag, Benoit led the way up many flights of stairs,
-until at last they arrived at the fifth floor. Here he
-threw open a door and said:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Voilà! N’est-ce pas?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne’s reply, “C’est de luxe,” amused Benoit
-greatly, who sat on the bed to enjoy a hearty laugh.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>While the bag was being unpacked, Benoit supplied
-information regarding Parisian life. Thus Wynne
-learnt that the average boarder in small French hotels
-went out for his meals and his bath. By this means
-either one or the other could be taken at the convenience
-of the individual, who was therefore in no way constrained
-to be at a certain place at any specified hour.
-Wynne inquired how far it was to the Quartier Latin,
-and was greatly delighted to learn that ten minutes’
-walk would land him there.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Many students from the ateliers lodged at the hotel,
-he discovered, some of whom were “bien gentil,” and
-others “méchant.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Aprés le Bal Quatres Arts! O c’était terrible!”
-He, Benoit, was constrained to prevent a certain young
-Englishman, who habitually was “tout à fait milord,”
-from importing to his apartment a lady dressed as Britannia,
-whom he claimed as his bride. It was undoubtedly
-very droll, and he was sympathetic, but the good
-name of the house came first, and since no marriage
-lines were available, husband and wife were forced to
-celebrate their nuptials apart. Doubtless the young
-man was carried away by patriotism, but if the excellent
-“Madame” had heard of such goings on she would have
-been in a fine rage.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Further advices were given as to where Wynne
-would do well to seek his food. He would find excellent
-hospitality “chez Bouillon Aristide” at the corner,
-and a little further down the Rue St. Honoré was a
-creamery whose chocolate and croissons would compare
-with those set upon the table of the President.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He urged Wynne to avoid sliding on the polished
-floor of his bedroom, since the practice provided him
-with additional labour in the mornings. Also he volunteered
-the remark that the room was popular because it
-was very amusing.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne liked the room, but could not at the time
-comprehend in what sense the word amusing could be
-associated with it. When he awoke the following morning
-an explanation arose, for his ears were filled with
-the sound of girls’ voices singing a merry song.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Opening his eyes he observed through the window
-an apartment some twenty feet away on the other side
-of the courtyard. Herein sat perhaps a dozen little
-workgirls, plaiting and combing long switches of false
-hair. They were employés of a perruquier, and cheerful,
-light-hearted souls they appeared to be. When he
-sat up in bed they greeted him with the friendliest
-gaiety, giving thanks that their fears that he might be
-dead were not realized.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne felt a little embarrassed having to make his
-toilet in these circumstances. He remained between the
-sheets indecisively until forced to rise by the friendly
-chaffery from opposite. Then he grabbed his clothes
-from the chair and ran the gauntlet to the corner of
-the room, where he might dress without being observed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>This manœuvre excited gusts of merriment, in which
-he found himself joining very heartily.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>After all, why should one mind dressing before an
-audience? It was ridiculous to be super-modest over
-such trifles. He realized with a start that his own
-stock of unconventionalism was thoroughly outclassed
-by these simple little midinettes, and this being so, he
-at once conceived for them a very profound esteem.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Accordingly, with a hairbrush in one hand and his
-braces trailing behind him, he stepped upon the tiny
-balcony and said:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Bon jour. Je pense que vous êtes très, très douce
-les toutes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The cordial reception accorded to this sentiment encouraged
-him to further efforts. He found, however,
-that his stock of French was insufficient for the needs
-of the occasion. After a laborious endeavour to express
-appreciation for their sunny broad-minded temperaments
-and to include a few words stating that his mission in
-life was to inculcate a similar breadth of mind to the
-hide-bound pedants who infested the world, he was compelled
-to stop for lack of the material to proceed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>His merry audience, in spite of having failed to
-understand a single word, cheered the speech very generously,
-and blew him a cloud of aerial kisses.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>II</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne Rendall took his chocolate and immersed his
-roll therein with all the skill of a Parisian, and later,
-in a very rapturous frame of mind, crossed the Seine
-by the Pont des Arts and made his way to the Rue du
-Dragon. He had no difficulty in discovering the Atelier
-Julien, and addressing himself to a bearded and aproned
-old gentleman who sat on a high stool in a very small
-office.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He had feared there might be difficulty in gaining
-admission, since he could claim no previous experience
-of the plastic arts, but in this his misgivings proved
-groundless. It was merely a matter of paying one’s
-fee—a small fee at that—and taking one’s place.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Asked if he had any choice of masters, he shook his
-head. He was placed therefore under the guardianship
-of Le Maître Jean Paul Laurens, a man “both
-strong and brilliant,” whose studio was on the first
-floor.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Since he desired to spend the day seeing Paris, and
-purchasing colours and canvas, Wynne decided he would
-not start work until the morrow.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Bien; demain matin à huit heures! Très bien. Au
-’voir.”</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>III</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was splendid to reflect that he was a full-blown
-student of the Quartier, thought Wynne, as with ringing
-steps he swung along the narrow thoroughfares. He
-wished Uncle Clem had been there to witness his glory.
-Never before had he felt so confident of his own personality.
-Rivulets of water danced and chattered along the
-gutters reflecting the gladness of his mood—the sun
-shone gloriously on the tall white houses. Quaint old
-men with baskets of merchandise piped beseechingly on
-tiny horns. Thousands of purple-dyed eggs filled the
-shop windows, and the wonderful, everchanging, raffish,
-homely crowds chattered, gesticulated and hurried along
-in ceaseless streams.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne was possessed with a foolish desire to shake
-hands with every one he met, and tell them all about
-himself; to explain why he had come, and to give them
-a glimpse of the workings of his many-sided nature. A
-measure of common sense dissuaded him from so doing,
-but he sang as he walked, and expanded his narrow
-chest to its fullest capacity. Presently he found himself
-by the riverside, and hovered awhile over the book-sellers’
-stalls perched on the stone copings of the embankment.
-At one of these he bought a translation of
-Shakespeare’s works, an old volume of Balzac, and some
-paper-bound copies of the plays of Molière. It was the
-first time he had rummaged among books, and the experience
-was delightful. The mere touch of them sent a
-thrill of learning through his being.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>For awhile he hovered by the riverside watching the
-energetic steamboats—the sober barges—and the great
-floating warehouses moored by the tow-path. Everywhere
-were people sketching—placid and preoccupied.
-No crowds of curious urchins jostled around them with
-stupid comments, as was always the case at home when
-any one had the temerity to bring their colour-box into
-the open day.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Paris respected its artists, and gave them as great
-seclusion out of doors as in their own studios. Sombre
-sportsmen, rodded and camp-stooled, lined the banks and
-strove to catch the elusive gudgeon. It seemed as though
-their attention was centred anywhere but upon the float.
-Their eyes rested dreamily on the spanned arches of Pont
-Neuf or the flying buttresses of Notre Dame, while invisible
-fish in the green waters beneath worried the bait
-from the hook with perfect immunity from danger.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>To the island of Notre Dame Wynne directed his steps,
-and spent an hour of sheer delight with imagination
-let loose. Romance breathed in the air around him, and
-memory of dead things sprang to life. He pictured
-himself back in Dumas’ days—with king’s men and
-cardinals—swashbuckling on the footway—with masked
-ladies flitting into dark doorways, and the tinkle
-of blade against blade from some courtyard near at
-hand.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Chance led him to enter a low, stone building by one
-of the bridges. All manner of men and women passed
-in and out of this place, and Wynne followed the general
-lead. There was a glass compartment across the far
-side of the hall, before which a large crowd was assembled.
-A nursemaid wheeling a perambulator, and a
-group of blue-smocked, pipe-smoking ouvriers hid from
-view what the case contained.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The exhibits, whatever they might be, were clearly
-very popular. Wynne reflected that probably they were
-Napoleonic relics, or maybe the crown jewels, when a
-rift in the crowd betrayed the fact that the case was
-full of dead men. With heads tilted at shy and foolish
-angles, with bodies lolling limply against the sloped
-marble slabs, the corpses of the Seine bleared stupidly
-at the quick.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was the first time Wynne had looked on the face
-of the dead, and the sight chilled him with a faint, freezing
-sickness.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, God, how awful!” he muttered, and turned to
-go, but the way before him was barred by fresh arrivals.
-“I want to get out,” he cried, but no one heeded him.
-He began to struggle, when a firm hand fell on his
-shoulder, and a voice, speaking with a Southern American
-accent, said:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Calm down, son. What’s the trouble?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne looked up and saw a tall, broad-shouldered
-man smiling upon him. He wore a blue serge shirt, a
-pair of sailor’s breeches, and no hat. His black, sleek
-hair hung loosely over his left temple.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s horrible,” said Wynne. “I want to get away.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yer wrong,” came the answer. “Yer wan’ to stop.
-The spirit of Paris abides in this place. There’s no intensive
-life without an intensive death. Only when they
-come here do they realize how very much alive they are.
-Sometimes I believe the Morgue is the greatest tonic in
-this city. Now jest pull up and we’ll step round the
-cases together.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne shook his head.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yer not afraid?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, but—it seems so callous, and—I want to live—and
-do great things—wonders. I don’t want to stare
-at a row of corpses.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There’s a fellow there”—he nodded his head toward
-the case—“who was an artist. He wanted to live and
-perform wonders too. Then he found out that he
-couldn’t—found out that a dozen idle, do-nothing fellows
-could outclass him at every turn. What happens? He
-puts a brick in pocket and jumps. Seems to me, with
-your ideas, you might learn something from the page
-of those cold features.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“All right,” said Wynne; “lead away.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They joined the crowd that slowly filed past the silent
-watchers.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m glad I saw them,” he said, as they turned once
-more toward the door. “I never realized before what
-full-stop meant. It makes one feel the need to get on—and
-on. Death is so horribly conclusive.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He drew a breath of air gratefully as they came into
-the sunlight.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A cure for slackers, eh?” said the American.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes—rather.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He was a pleasant fellow, the American, and volunteered
-to share a table at lunch.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Painting student?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m making a start tomorrow at Julien’s.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then pay for your drink when the Massier introduces
-himself, and if you know a rorty song sing it for
-all you’re worth.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>After lunch he helped Wynne buy colours, brushes,
-and a beautiful walnut palette, then wished him luck
-and departed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They never met again. Paris is the place of quick
-friendships and equally quick partings. Races lose
-their characteristic shyness under the Paris sun.
-Strangers accost each other and join in day-long or
-night-long festivities, exchange their most intimate
-thoughts, and finally go their ways without even so much
-as asking each other’s names.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>IV</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne arrived at the Atelier Jean Paul Laurens at
-a quarter to the hour of eight <span style='font-size:smaller'>A. M.</span> He was the first
-comer, and had a moment’s leisure to survey his surroundings.
-The studio itself was not large, and as high
-as the arm could reach the walls were plastered, generations
-deep, with palette scrapings. Above in great profusion
-were studies from the nude, heads and charcoal
-drawings in every possible mood of form and light. To
-Wynne, hitherto accustomed to regard paintings as
-pictures, these canvases struck a note of brutal coarseness,
-offending his æsthetic sensibilities. They seemed no
-more than men and women stripped of their clothing and
-indecently exposed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“God! I won’t paint like that,” he thought.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>From a great pile of easels in the corner he selected
-one and disposed it a few feet away from the model’s
-throne; which done, he set his palette with an infinite
-number of small dabs of colour. He thrust a few
-brushes through the thumb-hole, and was ready to make
-a start when the time arrived.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Presently a little Italian girl, with heavy gold rings
-in her ears, and a coloured kerchief over her head, came
-in and nodded a greeting.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nouveau?” she inquired.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oui,” replied Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She smiled agreeably, and seating herself on the
-throne kicked her shoes behind a screen and pulled off
-her stockings.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“O-ooo!” she shivered, “c’est pas chaud.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She nodded toward the stove, and Wynne was glad of
-the opportunity to put on some coal, since he was conscious
-of some small uneasiness, alone and unoccupied
-while the maiden disrobed. He took as long as possible,
-and when he had finished discovered that she had
-finished too, and was calling upon him to provide her
-with a “couverture.” This he sought and handed to
-her, not entirely without embarrassment.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Merci, Bébé,” said the Italian, and draped the old
-curtain around herself.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>From the passage outside came the sound of many
-footsteps—a clamour of voices, and a moment later some
-twenty students clattered into the studio, with others
-at their heels. They were men of all ages and every
-nationality—some dressed as typical art students, others
-as conventionally attired as any young gentleman from
-Bond Street. An impulse which they shared in common
-was to make a noise, and in this they achieved a very
-high standard of perfection. A great variety of sounds
-were produced, mostly patterned from the fowl-run or
-the asses’ stall. One serious-minded and bearded boy
-devoted his ingenuity to reproducing the noise of a
-motor horn; while another, leaping to the model’s
-throne, hailed the dawn like any chanticleer. Espying
-Wynne’s beautifully white canvas perched upon its
-easel, a red-headed Alsatian flung a tabouret which
-swept all before it, and sent the new palette planing to
-the floor.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What the devil do you mean by that?” cried Wynne,
-and was told to “Shut up, you silly ass. Don’t ask for
-trouble,” by an English voice at the back of the crowd.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At this moment a very precise little Frenchman
-stepped forward and made a bow.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Moi je suis le Massier,” he announced, and asked
-if Wynne were prepared to stand a drink to the students.
-Twelve francs was the sum required—payable in advance.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The money was produced, whereat every one, including
-the model, who had borrowed a long painter’s
-coat for the occasion, rushed from the studio. Half the
-crowd became wedged in the doorway, and the other
-half fell down the stairs <span class='it'>en masse</span>. Wynne was swept
-along by the tidal wave at the rear, and trod on many
-prostrate pioneers before swinging out into the Rue du
-Dragon. There was a small café fifty yards distant, and
-thither they raced, sweeping every one from the pavements
-as they ran. Further jostling ensued at the doors
-of the café, but finally every one struggled through and
-found accommodation.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A chair was set upon a table and Wynne invited to
-occupy it. This he did with very great satisfaction and
-a kingly feeling. Busy waiters below hurried round
-with trays, bearing glasses of black coffee, and a very
-innocuous fluid known as “grog Americaine.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>When all had been served the Massier called upon the
-“nouveau” to give a song, and reminded him that failure
-to do so might result in unhappy consequences.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>So Wynne stood upon the chair, with his head touching
-the ceiling, and sang several questionable limericks
-at the top of his voice. Hardly a soul understood the
-words, but from the spirit of their delivery they judged
-them to be indecent and bawdy, and as such very acceptable
-to hear. Moreover, there was a refrain in
-which all were able to join, and this in itself readily
-popularized the effort.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The Massier personally complimented the vocalist, and
-suggested that the occasion was almost sufficient to
-justify a barricade.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Cries were raised that nothing short of the barricade
-could be contemplated, and in an instant all the chairs
-and tables from the café were cast outside into the
-street. Skilled at their work, the barricaders set one
-table against the other with chairs before them. The
-company then seated itself and began to sing. Ladies
-from adjoining houses leaned out and threw smiles of
-encouragement, and the traffic in both directions ceased
-to flow.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Many and strange were the songs sung, and they dealt
-with life and adventure of a coarse but frisky kind.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Thus the passers-by learned what befell an officer
-who came across the Rhine, a sturdy fellow with an eye
-for a maid, and a compelling way with him to wit.
-Some there were who glowered disapprovingly at this
-morning madness, but more generally the audience were
-sympathetic, and yielded to the student the right of
-levity.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>All would have gone well but for a surly dray-driver,
-who, wearying of the hold-up, urged his hairies into the
-midmost table with a view to breaking the barricade.
-This churlish act excited the liveliest activity. The
-horses were drawn from the shafts and led forthwith
-into a small greengrocer’s shop, where they feasted
-royally upon the carrots and swedes basketed in
-abundance about them. The owner of the shop and the
-driver raised their voices in protest, and their cries attracted
-the attention of the patron of the café. This
-good man, supported by three waiters, came forth and
-argued that the jest had gone far enough.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In so doing he was ill-advised, for in Paris a kill-joy
-invariably prejudices his own popularity. Some
-of the students formed a cordon about the good man
-and his staff, while others seized the chairs and tables
-and piled them on the tops of the waiting vehicles.
-This done they started the horses with cries and blows,
-and a moment later the furniture was careering up the
-street in all directions.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“C’est fini,” said the Massier.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The cordon broke, Monsieur le Patron and his garçons
-were away in pursuit, and the students, headed by the
-bare-footed Italian girl in her paint-smeared jacket,
-turned once more to their labours.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne was almost exhausted with laughter. It
-seemed impossible such revels could be conducted by
-perfectly sober men before half-past eight in the morning.
-Perhaps strangest of all was the suddenness with
-which the robes of gaiety were discarded, for ten minutes
-later each man was at his easel setting out his palette
-as soberly as a city clerk plays dominoes during the
-luncheon hour.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>V</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It should be stated that Wynne Rendall showed small
-skill as a painter. He approached the task with a
-pleasant conviction that he would at least rival if not
-excel the ordinary run of students. At school he had
-been able to achieve clever little caricatures of masters
-and boys, and he had thought to draw from life would
-be a simpler matter altogether. To his chagrin he discovered
-that he was not able even to place the figure
-roughly upon a canvas. He realized the intention of
-the pose, but his efforts to convey it were futile and
-grotesque.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>With jealous irritation he observed how the other
-students dashed in the rough constructive features of a
-figure with sure sense of proportion and animation.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Wha’ are ye trying to do?” inquired a Scotch lad,
-who had abandoned his work for the pleasure of watching
-Wynne’s confusion. “Mon, it’s awfu’. Have ye
-no drawn from the antique?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne was not disposed to give himself away, although
-the words made him hot with shame.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Every one has his own method,” he retorted.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A’mitted, but there’s no meethod in yon. Stand
-awa’ a meenit.” And before Wynne had time to protest
-he struck a dozen red lines upon the canvas which
-gave an almost instantaneous likeness to the subject.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Leave it alone,” said Wynne. “It isn’t yours.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I need hairdly say I’m glad. Now look ye here.
-Ye know naything, and a leetle ceevil attention will
-profit ye.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He did not pay the slightest heed to Wynne’s sulky
-rejoinder, but, sucking at his pipe, continued to work
-on the canvas with great dexterity and skill. Presently
-he wearied of the occupation, and Wynne came
-back to his own with a somewhat chastened spirit.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It is an understood thing in the ateliers that every
-one criticizes every one else, and supports his theories
-by painting on the canvas he may be discussing. Before
-the day was out half a dozen different men left
-their mark on Wynne’s study. The most irritating
-feature about this practice was the coincidence that they
-always obliterated some little passage with which he
-was pleased. To quote one instance, he had succeeded
-rather happily in the treatment of an eye, imparting to
-it a sparkle and lustre that gave him profound satisfaction.
-He could have screamed with rage when the
-red-headed Alsatian, dipping his thumb in some raw
-umber, blotted it out, saying sweetly:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is not that it is an eye—it is a shadow that it
-should be.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A similar experience occurred when, a week later,
-the great Jean Paul Laurens halted in amazement and
-disgust before his performance.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This,” said he, “is a series of trivial incidents, of
-disjointed details! To we artists the human figure is
-a mass of light and shade. It is not made up of legs
-and hands, and breasts, and ears and teeth. No—by
-the good God, no!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>With which he seized a brush and scrabbled a quantity
-of flake white over the entire surface.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good!” he said. “It is finished.” And passed on
-to the next.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Thinking the matter over in bed that night Wynne
-realized he had learnt a great and valuable lesson:
-breadth of view—visualizing life as a whole. It was
-knowledge that could be applied to almost everything.
-Detail merely existed as part of the whole, but the whole
-was not arrived at by assembling detail.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The same would apply, he perceived, to every art,
-to business, too, and to life in general. He began to
-understand how it was possible for people like Wallace
-and his father to have their place in the scheme of
-things. They ceased to exist as individual items, brought
-into undue prominence by enforced propinquity, but became
-parts of a great machinery whose functions were
-too mighty to comprehend. These were the shadows
-which gave tone-value to the high-lights. They were
-vital and essential, and without them there would be no
-contrast, no variety, nothing but flat levels—dull and
-marshy—and never a hill on the horizon showing purple
-in the morning sun.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I must learn this trade of painting,” said Wynne,
-“it’s the short road to all knowledge.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He flung himself into the work with an energy truly
-remarkable. From early morning till midnight he
-battled with the craft, and thought and talked of nothing
-else. In the cafés, where students met and thrashed
-out their thousand ideas, Wynne was well bethought,
-for although his skill with a brush was small he could
-advance and support a theory with the liveliest talker
-in the Quartier. His success in argument was, perhaps,
-not altogether of advantage to his immortal soul, since
-it led him to cultivate a cynical attitude toward most
-affairs. He very readily became conversant with the
-works of the Masters, old and new, and praised or attacked
-them with great impartiality. Preferably he
-would detract from accepted geniuses, and deliver the
-most scathing criticisms against pictures before which
-mankind had prostrated itself for centuries. One day
-he would admit of the value of no artist save Manet,
-and another would accuse him of possessing neither skill
-nor artistry, but merely “a singularly adroit knack of
-expressing vulgarity.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He did not attempt to be honest in regard to his points
-of view, being perfectly satisfied so long as he could
-hold a controversial opinion.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Not infrequently high words would result from these
-discussions, and on one occasion a table was overset,
-glasses smashed, and a chair flung. Police arrived on
-the scene, and Wynne and three companions spent the
-night in a lockup. This he did not mind in the least,
-and continued to air his views in the small hours of the
-morning until threatened with solitary confinement unless
-he desisted.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>VI</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>On the tenth week after his arrival in Paris, Wynne’s
-money gave out. He had not bothered to consider what
-he should do when this happened, and as a result poverty
-seized him unprepared.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>To do him justice he did not bother in the least as
-to the future of his bodily welfare, but was distressed
-beyond expression at the thought of abandoning his
-studies.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A wild idea possessed him to sell some of his future
-years for a few more terms at the studio. He even
-went to the length of discussing the project with the
-Massier. This gentleman, however, shook his head
-dubiously.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Impossible,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why?” said Wynne. “I’ll give two-thirds of all
-I earn for the next three years to any one who’ll finance
-me now.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No doubt; but, monsieur, philanthropists are
-few in the Quartier—and your painting!” He made
-an expressive gesture. “Your paintings will never
-be sold. He who gave the money would see it again—never!
-I am sorry—it is sad—but what would
-you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne turned away heavy at heart and angry, and
-next morning his place before the throne was vacant.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>VII</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Of all cities in the world Paris is the least hospitable
-to a bankrupt. It does not ask a man to be rich, and it
-does not mind if he be poor, for the great Parisian heart
-is warm to either state, but for the man who is destitute
-there is no place in its affections.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Your Quartier art student is an easy-going fellow in
-most directions, who will share his wine and his love
-with amiable impartiality, but he is proof against the
-borrower’s craft, and will do anything rather than lend
-money.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Of this circumstance Wynne was already aware, and
-in a sense was glad that it should be so. He was not
-of the kind who borrow, but had it been easy to negotiate
-a loan his awkward plight might have weighed against
-the maintenance of his ideals.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As he walked up the Rue Buonaparte, his colour-box
-swinging in his hand, he reflected that the moment
-had come to prove his fibre. Between himself and
-starvation was a sum amounting to one franc fifty
-centimes, barely enough to purchase a couple of modest
-meals.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This time the day after tomorrow I shall be very
-hungry,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He was not alarmed at the prospect—and, indeed, he
-regarded it with a queer sense of excitement. By some
-twist of imagination he conceived that an adventurous
-credit was reflected upon himself by the very emptiness
-of his pockets. Tradition showed that most of the
-world’s great artists had passed through straitened circumstances,
-wherefore it was only right and proper he
-should do otherwise. Certainly there was no very manifest
-advantage in starving, but it would be pleasant to
-reflect that one <span class='it'>had</span> starved. Almost he wished he could
-banish the still haunting flavour of the chocolate he had
-drunk at his <span class='it'>petit déjeuner</span>, and feel the pangs of hunger
-tormenting his vitals. He consoled himself with the
-thought that these would occur soon enough. In the
-meantime it would be well to consider what line of action
-he proposed to take. The impulse to do a sketch and
-carry it to market he dismissed at once. The schools
-had taught him that whatever virtues his artistry might
-possess, they were not of a saleable kind. It was therefore
-folly to waste his money in buying a good canvas
-which would undoubtedly be spoilt.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No good,” he argued. “No good at all. I must do
-something that I can do.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>On the embankment he was accosted by the keeper of
-a bookstall which of late he had patronized freely.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I have here a copy of the verses of Sully Prudhomme,”
-said the man, “and the price is but one franc.
-Such a chance will scarcely arrive again.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was sheer bravado, but Wynne bought the little
-volume without so much as an attempt to beat down
-the price. He felt no end of a fine fellow as he pocketed
-it and strolled away. Yet, curiously enough, he had
-not gone far before a panic seized him and he longed
-to rush back and beg for his money to be returned.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s silly,” he told himself—“cowardly.” His
-hand stole to his pocket and took comfort from the feel
-of the fifty centime piece which remained.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“If I were really a man I’d spend that too.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>And spend it he did, but on a long loaf of stale bread
-which he brought back with him to the hotel.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He found Benoit at his interminable occupation of
-polishing the bedroom floor. This duty was performed
-by means of a flat brush strapped to the sole of the
-boot. The excellent fellow, while so employed, resembled
-a chicken scratching in straw for oats. Polishing
-had become a second nature to Benoit. He polished
-while he made beds, he polished while he emptied slops,
-he polished while he indulged in his not infrequent spells
-of religious rumination.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was in this latter state of mind Wynne found him,
-and for want of a better confidant explained his unfortunate
-predicament.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Benoit,” he said, “I am ruined—utterly ruined and
-penniless.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That,” replied the garçon, “is a pity, since I had
-had in mind that on the morrow you would be giving
-me five francs.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It is the custom to give five francs to the garçon at
-the beginning of each month.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Your chances of getting it, Benoit, are very remote.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is to be hoped you will, then, be able to give me
-ten in the month which follows.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I pray that it may be so. In the meantime what
-am I to do that I may subsist?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That is a matter which rests with the good God.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Suing your pardon, I prefer to believe that it rests
-with me, Benoit.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is inferior! I remark that you already possess
-bread.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is the smaller part of my possessions.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And the larger, m’sieur?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Brains, Benoit—brains.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“For myself I had rather have of the bread, believing
-it to be the more substantial blessing.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Which proves, Benoit, that you speak without consideration.
-A fool and his loaf are soon parted, but a
-wise man has that within his head which will stock a
-bakery.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“May it prove so with you, m’sieur.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A thousand thanks. But, to return to our muttons,
-how am I to use my brains to best advantage?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“By considering the lives of the saints, m’sieur.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A pious answer, Benoit, but I seek to use them to
-more profitable account. When I am relieved of the
-immediate anxiety of prematurely meeting these personages,
-I shall doubtless be better able to direct my
-thoughts toward them.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I can only repeat, m’sieur, that in divine consideration
-lies the province of the brain. If it be the body
-you desire to profit, then, beyond doubt, it is your
-hands must seek employment.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But I have no skill of the hands, Benoit.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There is no great skill required, m’sieur, to carry a
-basket at Les Arles.”<a id='r1'/><a href='#f1' style='text-decoration:none'><sup><span style='font-size:0.9em'>[1]</span></sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I urge you, Benoit, to avoid words of folly. Am
-I of the fibre to lift crates from a market cart? And
-if I were, do you suppose I could adjust my intellect to
-so clumsy a calling?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is better, m’sieur, to engage upon a humble task
-than to wallow with the gudgeon of the Seine.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Pooh! Benoit, am I a likely suicide?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Given no meat, a man will drink betimes over-deeply
-of the water.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The answer and memory of a certain grotesque figure
-in the Morgue gave Wynne to pause.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You are a cold comforter,” he said. “Have you no
-happier suggestion to offer?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I speak from knowledge, m’sieur. If you are destitute
-you must be content with the smallest blessings.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But I have intellect, Benoit, in larger measure than
-most. Is there no market for intellect in this city of
-Paris?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There will be better intellects than yours that sleep
-without a roof in Paris tonight. Why should you, a
-stranger, look to France to buy your thoughts?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Because France alone, of all countries, holds out the
-hand of welcome to Art.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It may be so—and it may be in so doing she fills
-her own coffers. These are matters which I do not
-understand, but I know well, and well enough, that the
-stranger may learn an art in this city, but he cannot
-sell it here. M’sieur, when your bread is eaten I would
-advise that you go to Les Arles and offer your hands.
-There is always a value for hands, even though it be
-but very small, and maybe, by using them, you would
-in the end find profit for the brain.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hum!” said Wynne despondently, “of all men you
-are the most cheerless.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But indeed no. If my mind was melancholy it was
-but to suit an occasion of some sadness. Let us, if you
-will, speak of lighter affairs.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But since that line of conversation inevitably led to
-descriptions of <span class='it'>jeunes filles</span> who at one time or another
-had confided their affections over-deeply to Benoit’s
-keeping, Wynne declined the invitation, and, picking
-up his cap, descended the stairs and walked towards the
-Louvre.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The discussion had done little to brighten his horizon,
-and he was oppressed with misgivings as he passed
-through the streets. Obviously it was absurd to attach
-importance to the words of an ignorant <span class='it'>valet de
-chambre</span>. On the other hand, there was a degree of
-probability in what he had said which could not be
-lightly dismissed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Suddenly an idea possessed him, and his spirits rose
-with a leap. It occurred from the memory of a remark
-made by the patron of a <span class='it'>brasserie</span> in the Boule Miche.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ah, monsieur,” he had said, “it is long since we
-entertained a customer who spoke with such inspiration
-on so many subjects.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The remark had been made after a long sitting in
-which Wynne had held the attention of a dozen students
-for several hours while he threw off his red-hot views
-on art and life in general. As a result the little absorbent
-mats, upon which the glasses stand, and which mark
-the number of drinks each man has taken, had piled
-high.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I measure the value of conversation,” the patron had
-continued, “by the amount of bock which is consumed,
-and tonight has surpassed all previous records. I trust
-m’sieur will return many times, and place me even more
-deeply in his debt.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“By Heaven,” thought Wynne, “I believe he’d pay
-me a salary to talk.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>So greatly did the belief take hold of him that, unthinkingly,
-he sprang upon a tram, only to spring off
-again with the recollection that he had not the wherewithal
-to pay the fare.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>M. le Patron greeted Wynne with amiable courtesy,
-and invited him to be seated, asking at the same time
-what manner of drink would be agreeable to his taste.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I want nothing,” said Wynne, “but the privilege of
-a few moments’ conversation.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That will be delightful; then we will sit together.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I do not know if you remember an evening a short
-while ago when I was here.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is, indeed, one of my pleasantest recollections.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“On that occasion you were good enough to observe
-that my conversation resulted in a marked increase in
-your sales of liquor.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And indeed, m’sieur, it was no less than the truth.
-The nimbleness of m’sieur’s wit, the charm of his address,
-and the adroitness of his argument are only comparable
-to those of that most admirable Bohemian, Monsieur
-Robinson, who, I have no doubt, is well known in
-England.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Probably,” said Wynne, “although I have never
-heard of him. But to return. I have come here today
-to make you a business proposition.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is very kind.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not at all. I am obliged to do something of the
-sort owing to financial difficulties which have suddenly
-arisen.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Tch-tch-tch! How very provoking.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was noticeable, however, that the brow of M. le
-Patron had clouded, and his sympathy was not wholly
-genuine. Wynne, however, was paying more attention
-to himself than to the attitude of his hearer.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What I was about to suggest is this. Encouraged
-by your words of a month ago, I am willing to occupy
-a table at your café each night, and to discourse upon
-all the burning questions of the day. In return for this
-small service and the undoubted credit it will bring to
-the establishment, I put forward that you should offer
-me the hospitality of free meals and a trifle of twenty
-francs a week for my expenses.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He delivered the speech with an air of cordiality and
-condescension designed to introduce the offer in the most
-favourable light. Hearing his words as he spoke them
-there remained small doubt in his mind that the astute
-Frenchman would embrace the opportunity with gratitude.
-In this, however, he was sadly at fault.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“M’sieur is an original,” came the answer; “but he
-can hardly be serious.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I am entirely serious.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then I fear that, with due regret, I must decline.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Decline? But—but the notion was originally your
-own. I should not have suggested it had it not been
-that you⁠—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Pardon, m’sieur, I see the fault was mine, and my
-words evidently placed m’sieur under a misapprehension.
-He will readily perceive, however, that, as patron,
-it is my duty to be affable, and, although it desolates
-me to confess so much, it has been my long habit to
-express to all my more loquacious guests precisely the
-same sentiments which I addressed to m’sieur on the
-evening of which he spoke.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh! has it?” said Wynne, rather dully. “Then
-there’s no more to be said.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Alas! no. It is sad, but what would you? Au
-revoir, m’sieur.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Au ’voir.” He moved a pace away, then turned.
-“I suppose you haven’t any sort of job you could offer
-me?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Unhappily!” said the patron, and turned to welcome
-a new arrival.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I shan’t give up,” muttered Wynne, as he walked
-moodily down the busy boulevard. “After all, it was
-only a first attempt.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But he did not sleep very easily that night. He
-lay with his eyes open in the dark and wondered what
-would befall him—where he would be in a week’s time—if
-what Benoit had said were true. These and a
-thousand perplexing fears and fancies raced and jostled
-through his brain. Presently one big thought rose and
-dominated all the rest.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I mustn’t forget any of this. It is all valuable—all
-part of the lesson—part of the training—part of the
-price which a climber has to pay.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Then he thought of The Cedars, and of Wallace
-setting forth to the City after a “good” breakfast.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wallace would have “sensible” boots, and would
-carry an umbrella. Wallace would exchange views on
-the subject of politics or chip-carving with other folk
-as sober as himself. Wallace would smirk at his employer,
-and would eat a Cambridge sausage for his lunch.
-Wallace would go to bed at 10.30 <span style='font-size:smaller'>P. M.</span> that he might
-be ready to do these things again on the morrow. With
-this reflection there came to Wynne a very glorious satisfaction.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I wouldn’t change with you,” he said, and turning
-on his side fell into a comfortable and easy sleep.</p>
-
-<hr class='footnotemark'/>
-
-<div class='footnote'>
-<table summary='footnote_1'>
-<colgroup>
-<col span='1' class='footnoteid'/>
-<col span='1'/>
-</colgroup>
-<tr><td style='vertical-align:top;'>
-<div class='footnote-id' id='f1'><a href='#r1'>[1]</a></div>
-</td><td>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The Covent Gardens of Paris.</p>
-
-</td></tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>VIII</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The sun was shining brightly when he awoke, and all
-the little midinettes were in full song.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne sat up in bed and ate a piece of his bread
-and drank a glass of water. Asked why he did so, he
-cheerfully replied,</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Moi, je suis ruiné.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Whereupon the maidens laughed very heartily and
-said he was a droll.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne had become quite used to the little audience
-across the way and scarcely took them into consideration.
-Women, as such, made little or no impression
-upon him. He liked them well enough, but never cared
-to better his knowledge or acquaintance with any with
-whom he had come into contact. Physically they made
-not the slightest appeal to him—his senses were inert
-toward the impulse of sex, and he was given to criticize
-contemptuously those of his companions who staked their
-emotions in the ways of passion.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do not imagine I suffer from moral convictions,”
-he would say; “but, according to my views, you attach
-an importance to these matters out of all relation to
-their value.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The sentence had inflamed to a very high degree the
-student to whom it was addressed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Fool! Fish!” he had shouted, by way of argument;
-and again, “Fish! Fish!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>To a running fire of semi-serious sympathy Wynne
-dressed himself and went out. In a sense he was a little
-distressed to sacrifice his accustomed cup of early morning
-chocolate—but this, he argued, was a matter of small
-concern. A plethora of victuals stagnates the mind, and
-on this day he had every reason to desire a clear head.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In the Elysée Gardens he found a bench and contracted
-his brow in meditation. What, he ruminated,
-were the essentials required to gain a livelihood? Obviously
-there was a place for every one in this world,
-or mankind would not survive the ordeal of birth.
-There was a place for people of every kind of intelligence—a
-glance at the passers-by proved it, and proved
-that even the stupid may sometimes prosper. This being
-so, it was obvious that the wise must prosper even
-more greatly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What have I got to sell?” he asked himself. “What
-have I got that these other people desire? What can
-I do that other people can’t do?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But though he racked his brain he could find no answer
-to the questions.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>After a while he rose and started to walk. He walked
-fast, as if to escape from his own thoughts, and Fear,
-so it seemed, walked by his side.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nothing,” said Fear—“you have nothing to sell.
-Nobody wants you—nobody will care if you starve.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Go away,” said Wynne. “I tell you I am wanted.
-I say I shan’t starve.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Little idiot! What have you learnt to do but sneer
-at the real worker? There is no market price for sneers.
-Sneerers starve—starve! Who are you to laugh at the
-honest people of the world?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I didn’t laugh. I only pitied.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How dared you pity—you, who have achieved nothing?
-Even that small errand boy yonder is a worthier
-citizen than you—he at least earns his ten francs a week.
-What have you earned? Only the wage-slave deserves
-to be a freeman. What is the value of all this trash of
-art and æsthetics? These are only accessories of life—life
-itself must be learnt before you can deal in these.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But I don’t want to be a wage-slave. I want to be
-a king.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Kingdoms are not won by desire. You must be a
-subject first.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I will be a king—a ruler.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A beggar in a week. Come off the heights, little
-idiot; come down into the plains and lay a road.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne stopped suddenly in the great quadrangle of
-the Louvre.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Right,” he said. “I’ll be content with small beginnings,
-but show me the way to find them.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>And looking across the cobbled yard he saw three
-people. They were quite ordinary, and obviously
-English. There was a middle-aged man with a disposition
-toward side-whiskers. He carried an umbrella, and
-wore a severe bowler hat. His clothes spoke of prosperity
-coupled with a due regard for quiet colours. By
-his side walked a stout lady, in a tailor-made dress of
-suburban cut. Upon her head reposed an example of
-Paris millinery, and consciousness of its beauty gave her
-face an added tendency to perspire. It was a new hat,
-and did not seem to have sympathetic relations with her
-boots. People who go abroad for the first time are apt
-to overestimate the probable amount of wear their shoe-leather
-is likely to incur, and guard against walking
-barefoot by donning boots whose sturdiness would defeat
-the depredations of a Matterhorn climb.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>By the lady’s side was a youth—a very unprepossessing
-youth too. His face was blotchy, almost as blotchy
-as his tie. His waistcoat was double-breasted and of a
-violent grey. He carried a vulgar little cane in his
-yellow-gloved hand.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>That the trio were strangers to the city was indisputably
-betrayed by the consciousness of their manner
-and the elaborate precautions they were at to look at
-everything. The elder man drew attention to a sewer
-grating in the middle of the quadrangle, and pointed
-with his umbrella at the pigeons.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Presently they came to a halt, and produced a
-Baedeker, which provided them with small enlightenment.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You are supposed to know French,” Wynne heard
-the elder man say, “then why not ask some one how we
-get into the place.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I can’t,” replied the son.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, all I can say is it seems a very funny thing.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>While conversing they failed to observe the approach
-of an official guide, who, complete with ingratiating
-smile and a parchment of credentials, offered to pilot
-them round the galleries.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At this they at once took flight, with much head-shaking
-and confusion, and had the misfortune to run
-into the arms of two more of the fraternity. These two
-importuned them afresh.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Certainly not,” said the paterfamilias, as though he
-had been asked to participate in some very disgraceful
-orgy.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>An Englishman always runs away from a guide,
-although sooner or later he becomes a victim.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Being aware of this fact, one, more assiduous than
-the rest, followed them closely with invitations and beseechings,
-and headed them toward the spot where
-Wynne was standing. It was clear that the unhappy
-people were greatly unnerved, and equally clear that
-in a moment they would cease to retreat, and surrender.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Perceiving this, Wynne was conceived of an idea, and
-as they came abreast he brought to bear upon the guide
-with a quick barrage of Paris invective. In effect his
-words were: “These people are my friends—get out,”
-although he coloured up the phrase with some generosity.
-The victory was instantaneous, and a moment later he
-had raised his hat and was saying:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t think you will be bothered any more.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Very kind of you—very kind,” said the father,
-mopping his brow. “Great nuisance, these people.”
-And the lady favoured Wynne with a grateful smile.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You were about to visit the galleries?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, we thought we’d take a look round, you know.
-The thing to do!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, quite. Are you familiar with the Louvre?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Er, no—no. Can’t say we are—no.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“H’m. I was wondering if I should offer to conduct
-you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hey? Well. Ho! I see! Not a bad idea! What
-do you say, Ada?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It would be very nice.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You do this job, then?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Occasionally. Not regularly.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, I don’t mind. Got to see the things, I s’pose.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is customary, isn’t it?” smiled Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hum. How long will it take to do the place?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Five years—perhaps a little less.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The joke was not well received, so Wynne modified
-it.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I could show you the more vital points of interest
-in a couple of hours.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Two hours, eh? And you’d want how much an
-hour?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne considered. “Should we say five francs?” he
-suggested.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Jolly sight too much, I call it,” observed the blotchy
-youth, whose name was Vincent. “Get a seat at a café
-chantong for that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, what do you say?” said the father.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I am silent, like the ‘G’ in <span class='it'>chantong</span>,” replied
-Wynne. He had begun to feel the spice of adventure
-in bartering, and would not give ground.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We mustn’t forget we are on a holiday,” the mother
-reminded them.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let it go,” said the father; “and I only hope it will
-be worth it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I can promise you it will be more than worth it,”
-said Wynne, and led the way to the entrance.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As they mounted the stairs, blotchy Vincent plucked
-at his sleeve and asked, <span class='it'>sotto voce</span>:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say, do you know Paris well?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Intimately. Why?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I only wondered.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He nodded toward his parents and shook his head
-mysteriously.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne was not entirely easy with his conscience at
-having accepted the post of guide, and determined to
-justify himself by a great liberality of artistic expression.
-He therefore began to talk with exceeding rapidity
-the moment they entered the first gallery.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This collection is more or less mediocre, although
-one or two examples are worthy of attention. This
-Cupid and Psyche, for instance, may at first strike you
-as insipid, but it presents interesting features. You
-observe how there is a far greater similarity between the
-sexes than we find in nature. It is almost as though,
-by combining the two, the artist sought to arrive at the
-ideal human form.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Dare say he did,” admitted the father, rather uncomfortably,
-while the mother looked with eyes that saw
-nothing. Blotchy Vincent, on the other hand, pricked
-up his ears at the word “sex.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“One might sum up this school by saying they were
-inspired by an hermaphroditic tendency.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“M’yes. Well, I don’t think we need inquire into
-that. It’s—hardly—er⁠—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The same spirit is prevalent in modern French
-sculpture.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I think we will have a look at something else.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s a nice picture,” said Mrs. Johns—for Johns
-was the name of the family. “Very nice, I call that—quiet!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She directed their attention toward a large canvas
-depicting a lady sitting upon a couch with her legs resting
-straightly on its flat surface.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ah, that <span class='it'>is</span> a nice picture,” agreed Mr. Johns.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Vincent, however, lingered before Cupid and Psyche.
-It did not compare with sundry picture postcards he had
-seen, but it held greater attractions than the portrait of
-Madame Récamier.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I consider the colour is disappointing,” observed
-Wynne—“disappointing and improbable. When one
-comes to consider that Madame Récamier held in her day
-the most popular Salon in Paris, and reflects that to do
-so she must inevitably have been demimondaine of the
-demimondaine, one is justified in expecting an added
-brilliance to the cheeks and an added scarlet to the
-lips.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Hereupon Mr. Johns favoured Wynne with a warning
-look, which he was pleased to ignore.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This particular canvas is illustrative of what somebody—I
-think Samuel Butler—said, that a portrait is
-never so much of the sitter as of the artist. Shall we
-take some of the older masters next?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He led the way to an inner gallery, the Johns family
-trooping behind him. As they passed through the
-arched doorway Mr. and Mrs. Johns exchanged glances
-as though to say:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I think we have made a great mistake introducing
-this young man into our God-fearing midst!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Before the canvases of the Old Masters Wynne expanded
-his views with great liberality. Correggio and
-Botticelli were favoured with a kindly mention, Rembrandt
-was patted on the back, and Raphael severely
-criticized. An ill-advised appreciation of a canvas by
-Jordeans brought upon Mr. Johns a vigorous attack:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, believe me, very second-rate indeed. A mere
-copyist of Rubens, who, himself, in no way justified the
-position of being a target at which a self-respecting
-artist should aim. Here is a Titian now⁠—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, really!” said Mrs. Johns. “I’ve often heard of
-Titian red. Do you see, father, that’s a Titian.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh yes,” said Mr. Johns, consulting his catalogue.
-“So it is. Seems good!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Very wonderful how the colours last so long. Isn’t
-it pretty, Vincent?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know,” said Vincent, who was very bored.
-“Dare say it’s all right.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I wonder,” remarked Wynne, “if you can detect the
-fault in that picture.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mr. and Mrs. Johns half closed their eyes, by which
-means they fondly believed faults were more easily detected.
-After much consideration they produced the
-joint statement that it looked “a little funny—I don’t
-know!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The fault lies in the fact that there are no faults—which,
-to my way of thinking, is very heinous.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That sounds nonsense to me,” said Mr. Johns, who
-was getting heartily sick of the whole exposition.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not at all. There must be impurity to emphasize
-purity. Where would the Church be were it not for sinners?
-What would be the worth of virtue if there were
-no vice? Therefore I contend that nothing is so imperfect
-as perfection.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Carried away by his own arguments, Wynne hurried
-his charges along to Leonardo’s “Baptist.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Here he drew breath and started to speak afresh.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“An amazingly happy performance—instinct with
-life, saturated with humour. You notice the same classic
-tendency towards sexlessness? In my opinion this
-is all a painting should be. There is something astonishingly
-compelling in every line of the form and features.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“She is certainly very pleasant-looking,” said Mrs.
-Johns. “Who was the young lady?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“John the Baptist, madam.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At this Mr. Johns very properly interposed with:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t tolerate jokes about the Bible, young man.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Even Vincent looked as though he expected Wynne
-to be struck down by some divine and correcting hand.
-Mrs. Johns was frankly horrified.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Look at your catalogue,” said Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>This advice Mr. Johns accepted, but even the printed
-words failed to convince him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“If that’s John the Baptist,” he remarked, “all I
-can say is that it’s not <span class='it'>my</span> idea of John the Baptist.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What is your idea, sir.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“An elderly gentleman with a beard.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“With all respect, I think Leonardo’s is preferable.
-Youth is more appealing than middle age. These half
-humorous, wholly inspired features would lose the
-greater measure of their attraction if the lower part of
-the face were covered with hair.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t agree with you, and I don’t consider the
-subject at all a proper one,” said Mr. Johns sternly.
-“As for that picture, I am very sorry I’ve seen it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It is probable Wynne would have answered hotly had
-not Vincent advanced a suggestion:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why don’t you and the mater sit down for ten
-minutes,” he said. “This Mr.—er—can take me round
-for a bit.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’d like to rest my feet,” admitted Mrs. Johns; “the
-leather has begun to draw.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>So Wynne and Vincent entered the next gallery together.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“My people are all right, you know,” said Vincent;
-“but they are a bit off in Paris, you know.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, really.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. <span class='it'>You</span> know! Isn’t there anything a bit more
-lively we can see? I don’t think a lot of these Old
-Masters—damned if I do.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne had to bear in mind that he was the servant
-of these people, and accordingly he replied, civilly
-enough:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Perhaps you’d like the more modern school better.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I thought French painting was a bit livelier, but
-it seems about as dud as the Liverpool Art Gallery.
-Aren’t there any more of those figure pictures?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nudes?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That what you call ’em?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That is what they are called.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let’s have a look at some, anyway.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We’ll go through here, then, and I’ll show you
-‘La Source.’ It is considered remarkable flesh painting,
-although I don’t care for it very particularly.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As they turned to the modern side, Vincent dropped
-his voice, and said:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Pretty hot, Paris, isn’t it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ve never been here in the summer,” replied Wynne,
-an answer which made his companion laugh very heartily.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You are not giving much away, are you?” he
-mocked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There,” said Wynne; “this is ‘La Source.’ ”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He halted before Ingres’ masterpiece—the slim figure
-of a naked girl, a tilted pitcher on her shoulder, from
-which flows a fall of greeny-white water.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Remarkable, perhaps, but not art.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” said Vincent, “I don’t like it either, you know.
-I see what you mean—it isn’t spicy enough, is it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Spicy?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes—you know. Look here, I was wanting a chance
-to speak to you alone. I’ve got a bit of money.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You are more fortunate than I.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t mind you having a bit of it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The mater and pater get to bed by 10 o’clock, and
-I could easily slip out after that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It ought not to be difficult.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We could meet, I thought, and you could show me
-round a bit. See what I’m driving at?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. What <span class='it'>are</span> you driving at?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I want to see a bit of life, and you’re the chap to
-show it me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>And suddenly Wynne became very angry, so angry
-that his face went pink and white in turns.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What the hell do you mean?” he exploded. “Do
-you take me for a disorderly house tout?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Shut up—don’t shout.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You dirty, pimply— Good God!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“If you call me names you won’t get your money.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Money!” cried Wynne. “D’you think I’d take
-money from any one who begat a thing like you. Clear
-out, get away, and tell your father, when next he thinks
-he’d like a son, to blow out his brains instead.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Thrusting his hands in his empty pockets, and tossing
-his head from side to side, Wynne stamped furiously
-from the gallery and down the steps to the courtyard
-below.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was two hours before he recovered an even temper,
-and then he surprised many passers-by by stopping in
-the middle of the Rue de Rivoli and shouting with
-laughter.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“One up to my immortal soul,” he cried. “And now
-for Les Arles!”</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>IX</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>For well-nigh eighteen months Wynne Rendall,
-seeker of eminence, destroyer of symmetry, professor
-of æsthetic thought, worked with his hands in little byways
-of the unfriendly city.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He had come to look on Paris as the unfriendly city,
-for very shabbily she served him after his money gave
-out. They laughed at his frail stature and careful,
-elegant speech when he sought work in the Covent
-Garden of the French capital, and it was a desperately
-gaunt and hungry boy who at last found employment
-in a small <span class='it'>pâtisserie</span> somewhere in the neighbourhood of
-Boulevard Magenta. Things had gone so ill with him
-that he was rocking on his heels, staring greedily at the
-cakes in the pastry-cook’s window like any starving
-urchin. He did not notice the printed card, “Youth
-wanted,” which stood among the trays. A stout woman
-behind the counter saw and beckoned him to enter.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You look hungry,” she said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I am.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Even short sentences were difficult.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“D’you want work?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I want to eat.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Eating is for people who work. Would you care for
-a place here, delivering bread? I need some one.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I could not be trusted with a loaf,” he said, and
-fainted.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The stout lady was comparatively kind. She threw
-water over his face, and when he came to, gave him
-coffee, a piece of sausage, and some bread. She allowed
-him to finish, and then told him very plainly he might
-express gratitude by accepting the post of errand boy
-at a small wage.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>To Wynne it seemed that any wage was acceptable
-which could be earned in an atmosphere so rich in
-odours of cooked corn. He said “Yes” almost before
-she had framed the offer. Later he repented, for the
-hours of labour were incessant, the food scarce, and the
-room in which he slept was dirty, damp, and ill-ventilated.
-Of his weekly earnings, when he had bought
-himself cigarettes and paid back a certain proportion
-for lodging, there remained little or nothing. Books,
-which had hitherto been the breath of life to him, were
-of necessity denied. Very occasionally he scraped together
-a few coppers and bought some dusty, broken-backed
-volume which he scarcely ever found leisure
-to read. He was too physically fatigued at night for
-reading, and during the day was kept continually on the
-run.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He did not stay with the stout lady for long, but
-the changes he made were rarely of great advantage.
-Once he found employment at a small stationer’s, which
-bade fair to prove pleasanter, but from here he fled
-precipitately on account of the amorous importunities
-of the stationer’s younger daughter. She, poor child,
-had lost the affections of a certain artisan, who lodged
-in the same house, and sought to regain them by exciting
-jealousy. In the pursuance of this time-worn
-device she proposed to sacrifice Wynne, and was prepared
-to go to no mean lengths in order to give the
-affair a colourable pretence of reality. Wherefore
-Wynne ran, not so much from the probable fury of the
-artisan as from a vague fear which he did not entirely
-understand.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>After this episode he became a waiter—or, to be
-exact, a wine boy. In this branch of employment he
-was rather happier, although much of it proved irksome
-and distasteful. He found that a waiter is allowed,
-and even encouraged, to possess a personality. In the
-other callings in which he had worked personality was
-condemned, but customers welcome an individual note
-in a waiter. It helps them to identify him among his
-similarly arrayed companions, and affords them opportunity
-for a lavish expenditure of wit and sarcasm not
-always in the best taste.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>For the first time Wynne was able to save a little
-money, which he put by towards paying the price of
-a passage to England. He had decided to leave Paris
-as soon as he had accumulated enough to pay the cost
-of travel. In this matter, however, a certain inconsistency
-forced him to remain. He would save the
-best part of the two pounds required, and, a day or so
-before departure, would yield to an irresistible impulse
-and spend several francs on the purchase of a book. He
-did this about a dozen times altogether, and although
-the habit formed the nucleus of a library, it postponed
-his departure indefinitely.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At last he had in his possession the required sum,
-and determined to leave Paris at the close of the week,
-but certain pneumonic cocci floating in the atmosphere
-and seeking a human abiding place, had other plans for
-him, and by the Sunday morning, high-temperatured
-and semi-conscious, he lay in his bed with a perilously
-slender hold upon life.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>M. le Patron had been aware of Wynne’s intention
-to depart, and had been wishful of retaining his services.
-Without Wynne it would be impossible for an honest
-man to display in his window the legend “English
-spoken,” an announcement which stimulated trade
-among foreigners.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Accordingly he put himself to the trouble of engaging
-a doctor, whose injunctions in regard to the treatment
-of the invalid he very faithfully followed. It
-should be stated that he was no less faithful in recording
-the out-of-pocket expenses incurred, which at the
-close of a six weeks’ illness were presented to Wynne
-in the manner of a debt.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It will now be necessary that you shall remain
-until this sum is restored to me,” he said. “I am generous
-not to have increased the liability, for times were
-many when it seemed that I had incurred upon myself
-the cost of a burial.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne reckoned that the least time in which he
-could reasonably hope to clear the score would be from
-three to four months, and raised his voice in protest.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But my career, monsieur—what will become of my
-career?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Money is one of the few things a Frenchman takes
-seriously; in nearly all other matters he is possessed
-of an enchanting elasticity. Wynne’s lamentations
-were heard without sympathy.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The debt must be discharged,” said M. le Patron.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>So once more Wynne donned his evening clothes with
-the break of day, once more a serviette swung from the
-bend of his arm.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Strange to say menial service did not break his spirit
-or lessen his conceit. There are certain compensations
-in the life of a waiter if he be an observant fellow.
-Many and various are the types in which he comes into
-contact, and there is no surer way of fathoming the
-character of man than is afforded by watching him at
-his meat.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>To a certain extent Wynne took a pride in his waiting,
-and made an especial study of the craft. It amused
-him to “bank” his corners perilously with a pile of
-plates on his hand; it amused him to whip off the cover
-of an omelette and introduce it most exquisitely to its
-future consumer; it amused him to theorise on a customer’s
-likely choice of wine, and to suggest the vintage
-as he handed the card. But most of all it amused him
-to reflect that he, Wynne Rendall, was a waiter. Not
-for an instant did it occur to him that, up to this
-point, his achievements had not merited his occupation
-of a more illustrious position. In the back of his head
-was a comfortable assurance that he was a very important
-and valuable person, and this being so, that it
-was exceedingly droll for him to minister to the wants
-of the vulgar-minded.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He acquired the habit of jotting down his daily
-thoughts on odd scraps of paper as he lay in bed at
-night, and some of these would have made good reading
-had they been preserved. Also they would have served
-to show very clearly the streak of egoism which outcropped
-his entire personality. Occasionally he flew to
-verse of a style and metre very much his own.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Here is an example:</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>“Garçon!”</p>
-<p class='line0'>In black and white I serve their bellies’ need,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Paid with a frown, a curse, a penny in the franc.</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;Will they thank</p>
-<p class='line0'>Me with a smile, when, playing on my reed,</p>
-<p class='line0'>I bid them hear, and from my cathedra</p>
-<p class='line0'>Their silly loves and lusts, dull thoughts and empty creed,</p>
-<p class='line0'>In black and white I show them as they are?</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='pindent'>The verse in itself has few merits, but it afforded him
-a sense of luxury to produce such lines. He felt as a
-king might feel who lay hidden in a hovel, conscious
-of greatness in little places.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>To his brother waiters Wynne was ever remote and a
-shade cynical. He laughed at, but never with them,
-and affected a tolerant attitude which they found far
-from endearing. Occasionally one of the sturdier would
-attempt to bully him, but in this would seldom prosper.
-A Frenchman, as a rule, bullies with his tongue rather
-than his hands, and Wynne’s tongue was ever ready
-with a lightning counterstroke. These passages were
-in some respects a repetition of the old schoolday affairs,
-and since he never forgot a lesson he was well armed to
-defend himself.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>And so the weeks dragged into months and the debt
-gradually diminished.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>X</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>One bright spring morning, some two years after
-his arrival in Paris, Wynne received a surprise. A
-broad-shouldered figure came under the shadow of the
-awning and seated himself at one of the small round
-tables.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s Uncle Clem!” gasped Wynne to himself. He
-straightened his waistcoat and went outside.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“M’sieur!” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Un bock,” came the reply.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Unrecognized, Wynne retired and returned a moment
-later with a glass tankard which he set upon the table.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Beau temps, m’sieur!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ah, oui!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Just such another day as the one we spent in Richmond
-Park together.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The big Englishman turned his head and raised his
-eyes sharply.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good Gad! It’s the Seeker!” he exclaimed. His
-hand shot out, enveloped Wynne’s, and wrung it furiously.
-“Sit down! What the devil are you up to?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Waiting,” Wynne smiled; “but I haven’t given up
-hope.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Splendid—and this is fine”—he tweaked the apron.
-“Serious?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, very.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A man now, eh?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Something of the kind.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Fine! though why the hell you couldn’t let us know
-what had become of you⁠—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Touch of pride, Uncle Clem. I neither wanted to
-please my people nor disappoint you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ah, now, now, now! None of that—none of it.
-They wouldn’t gloat and I might have helped.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne seated himself thoughtfully.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, I think that’s true; but I wonder if you believe
-me when I say that never once has it crossed my mind
-as a way out of the difficulty. When I left home I
-left finally, not experimentally. If my father were to
-see me as I am now he would say I had slipped down
-hill, but I haven’t—I haven’t. Downhill I may have
-gone with a bit of rush, but I’m gathering impetus
-all the time, getting up weigh for the climb ahead.
-You see that, don’t you? This is all to the good, isn’t
-it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There was an honest, genuine sincerity in the way
-he spoke.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Every time. All to the good. I should say it is.
-Hullo! who the devil is this?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This” was M. le Patron, highly incensed at the sight
-of one of his waiters sitting at a table.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ça fait rien,” began Uncle Clem. Then to Wynne,
-“Oh, you tell him it’s all right; tell him I’m your
-uncle—say you’re coming out for the afternoon. Here’s
-ten francs. Get your hat, and shove that damned dicky
-in your pocket. Tell the old fool he’s a good fellah and
-to go to the devil.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A certain amount of foregoing advices were translated,
-and M. le Patron, placated by the ten-franc note,
-granted Wynne leave of absence and conversed affably
-with Uncle Clem while Wynne mounted the stairs and
-changed his coat.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on,” said Uncle Clem. “Let’s get somewhere
-where we can talk.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He hailed a fiacre and they drove to the Bois de Boulogne.
-Here they alighted, and sprawled upon the grass
-beneath a tree.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Now let’s have the story from the word Go.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>So Wynne wound himself up and reeled off all his
-experiences in the unfriendly city. Once or twice during
-the recital Uncle Clem frowned, and once or twice
-looked at his nephew in some perplexity, but in the main
-he nodded encouragement or gave little ejaculations of
-praise.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Plucky enough,” he remarked at the close.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I wonder sometimes. Is it plucky merely to fight for
-existence?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Did you merely fight for existence—was there no
-impulse behind it all?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, the impulse to do and to know has helped me
-over the stonier parts.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The painting was not a success, eh?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It isn’t my medium.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Have you found out what is?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The question was hard to answer. It would sound
-futile to reply, “Writing,” when one had but a few
-occasional jottings on the back of envelopes to substantiate
-the claim.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I haven’t had much time,” said Wynne, ruefully.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Of course not. After all, the medium doesn’t matter—it’s
-the motive that counts. Have you determined on
-your motive?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I have learnt enough to show people what they
-are.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then don’t. That’s a cynic’s task, not an artist’s.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sometimes I think that one is but another name for
-the other.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not it. An artist shows people what they might
-be.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yet many have climbed to the peaks” (he was too
-self-conscious and diffident, with added years, to say the
-Purple Patch) “by holding up a mirror.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Uncle Clem shook his head.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A mirror should only reflect beautiful folk,” he replied.
-“There are better things than to be a man with
-a camera.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I sometimes wonder if there are.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t wonder. Beauty is not to be found by sorting
-out dustbins. Beauty is in the woods, Wynne.
-Listen! You can hear the leaves in the tree above us
-whispering of her, and the little waves in the pool yonder,
-are leaping up lest they should miss her as she passes
-by. Can’t you feel the wonder of her everywhere, now
-in the spring, when she leaps splendid from her winter
-hiding? D’y’know, when April’s here I throw open my
-window and look up into the blue and then I see her
-riding on a cloud. You know the kind of cloud—the
-great white sort, which brings the summer from the
-seas. Ha! Yes, and I shout my homage as I brush my
-hair, and sometimes my poor man Parsons thinks I’m
-cracked. But what’s the matter if she smiles—for she’s
-a smiling lady if ever there was one, and her breath is
-like a breeze which is filtered through a copse of violets.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh Lord, you are just the same old Uncle Clem as
-ever,” laughed Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Damn your eyes,” came the colloquial rejoinder—“if
-you’re not patronizing me!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not I. Believe me, I wouldn’t have you different,
-but perhaps I’ve changed a bit, and these dream pictures
-aren’t so real as they were.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then make ’em real—they’re worth it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne hesitated, then said:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m beginning to see the world as it is, and it
-doesn’t look like that any longer. I see it as a vast
-machine built up of cranks and gears, and bolts and cogs—some
-odd, but mostly even. A thing of wheels and
-reciprocal activity, for ever revolving and for ever returning
-to the point from which it started. It’s hard to
-believe in fairies when one thinks like that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then don’t think like that, or, if you do, think of
-the energy that moves the machine—that’s where the
-mystery and the essence lie. The wheels are nothing—it
-is the power which drives ’em that counts. Why,
-heavens above! that should be the task for you, and
-such as you—to find and refine the essence, to know and
-increase the power. For God’s sake don’t scorn a thing
-because it goes round, but give it a push that it may
-revolve faster. That’s the job! and a fine job too. It’s
-easy to acquire cheap fame by jeering at a man because
-he goes to bed at night and gets up in the morning—easy—but
-no good. Give him something to get up
-early for and sleep the better for; that’s the way to earn
-your own repose.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And you were the man who first showed me a satyr,”
-said Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And I was the man who told you of the Purple
-Patch,” came the reply.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I know, and I shall get there in the end.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But not by being of the clever ones. They sit on
-the lower slopes. They bark—they don’t sing.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Up against intellect now?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m against obvious intellect all the time, because
-it’s perishable. Look here, I may not make myself clear,
-but of this I am sure—a great man is not great because
-he is clever, but he is clever because he is great. The
-cleverness of the clever is merely an irritant. For a
-season it may tickle the public palate, but it will never
-endure.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And how does a man become great?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“By the strength of his ideals. Ideals never perish
-because they are never wholly realized—besides, they
-spring from other causes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And what is the fountain of ideals?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Feeling—human feeling. Don’t you know that—yet?”
-He turned a penetrating glance on his nephew.
-“Never been in love?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne coloured slightly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” he replied, “I’ve never been in love.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then be in love.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But that’s rather—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No it ain’t. You must be in love—it’s God’s great
-education to mankind. A man knows nothing of himself,
-or of anything else, unless he is a lover. Happy—wretched—sacred
-or profane—love is the mighty teacher.
-What the devil d’you mean by never having been in
-love?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne laughed. “Couldn’t I ask the same question
-of you?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, you couldn’t, for I always am. Ah, I may not
-be married—and that is a great blessing for some poor
-dear unknown—but I’m always in love. Sometimes it’s
-a girl with whom I have never exchanged a word, sometimes
-a dead queen or a goddess of ancient times, and
-sometimes in silly, sordid ways which lonely men will
-follow. But the spark of love that is, or the spark of
-a love that was, I keep for ever burning. What sort of
-life do you imagine mine would be without it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Isn’t there a difference,” said Wynne. “You’re
-not a striver—you are content⁠—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, I’m a loafer—a dilettante—who whistles his
-song of praise in the country lanes—but⁠—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The country lanes are the lover’s lanes; there is
-no time for love in the great highways. How does the
-line go? ‘He travels fastest who travels alone.’ ”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Uncle Clem rose and, stretching out a hand, pulled
-Wynne to his feet.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He may travel fast,” he said, “but he don’t get so
-far. Come on! What do you think—lunch chez
-Fouquet?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They made a very excellent déjeuner at the pleasant
-little restaurant under the shadow of the Arc de
-Triomphe, and when it was over, and Uncle Clem had
-produced two delicate Havana cheroots, the conversation
-turned to Wynne’s future.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’ve done enough of this waiting business,” he
-said. “Better come back with me at the end of the
-week.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sorry,” said Wynne, “but it won’t run to it yet.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, I’m your uncle—so that’s that, ain’t it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s that as far as the relationship goes, but no
-farther.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“D’you mean you won’t be helped?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, but it doesn’t mean I’m not grateful.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But look here—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t make me,” pleaded Wynne. “It would be so
-easy that way.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But it’s all nonsense. You’ve proved your mettle—no
-harm relaxing a trifle.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I have proved my mettle to the extent of being a
-waiter,” said Wynne, “and that isn’t as far as I want
-my mettle to carry me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You might be here for years.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Perhaps. It will be my fault if I am. I have to
-prove my right to climb. Help would disprove it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ’Pon my soul I admire your pluck.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s all you do admire, isn’t it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ah, get away with you! I talk a lot, that’s all;
-but I’ve a mighty strong conviction that you’ll do.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll do <span class='it'>and</span> do,” said Wynne. “Maybe you won’t
-approve, but I hope you will.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I hope so, and believe so—for the elements are yours—but
-I shan’t tell you so if I don’t.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>With which somewhat cryptic remark they parted.
-Wynne had not gone very far down the street, however,
-before he was overtaken by a somewhat breathless
-Uncle Clem, who said:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But, for God’s sake, fall in love if you can.”</p>
-
-<div><span class='pageno' title='173' id='Page_173'></span><h1>PART FOUR<br/> <span class='sub-head'>THE PEN AND THE BOARDS</span></h1></div>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>I</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The manner of Wynne’s return to England was
-fortuitous. It resulted from the remark of a
-chance customer at the little restaurant.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I wish to heaven you’d come right down to one of
-my rehearsals, young man, and show the Gordam idiot
-I’ve engaged how a waiter waits.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The speaker was a Cockney impresario who had come
-to Paris to collect a few French revue artistes for a scene
-in a London production.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll come and play the part if you like,” replied
-Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The little man scrutinized him closely.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Some idea!” he ejaculated (he had a habit of employing
-American expressions). “But could you realize
-your own personality?—that’s the point.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good God! you don’t imagine this is my personality,”
-came the reply. “This is as much a performance
-as any of Sarah Bernhardt’s.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Durn me, but I believe you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As a result Wynne took the evening off without permission,
-and made his first acquaintance with the histrionic
-art. Being in no way affected with nervousness
-he did not attempt to do otherwise than portray a waiter
-as a waiter actually is. The producer acclaimed the performance
-with delight. He sacked the other probationer,
-and gave Wynne a contract for two months at a
-salary of two pounds five shillings a week.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“If I am to come with you I shall want five pounds
-down to discharge a debt,” said Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The impresario grumbled somewhat, but since he was
-paying thirty shillings a week less than he had anticipated,
-and was getting a vastly superior article, he finally
-agreed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>So Wynne signed the contract, pocketed the notes, and
-went to break the news to his employer.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>M. le Patron was not stinting in the matter of abuse.
-He condemned Wynne very heartily for lack of devotion
-to his welfare, upbraided himself for misplaced
-generosity, offered him an increased wage to remain,
-and finally—protest proving useless—shook hands and
-wished him every kind of good fortune.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Four days later found the little company of players
-waiting for the outgoing train at the Gare du Nord.
-To Wynne there was something tremendously portentous
-in the moment. To find seclusion for his thoughts he
-walked to the extreme end of the platform, where it
-sloped down to the line, and here, to the unlistening
-ears of a great hanging water-pipe, he bade farewell to
-the Unfriendly City.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“One of these days I shall return,” he spoke aloud;
-“one of these days you will stretch out your hands to
-welcome me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>And the little Cockney impresario who had followed
-him, fearful lest he should try to escape with the five
-pounds, touched his shoulder, and said:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Studying your part, son?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Always,” came the answer.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>II</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They arrived in London about half-past six the
-same evening, and Wynne could not help smiling as he
-noticed how all the good people were hurrying homeward
-from their work as though their lives depended upon
-expedition. As he came from the station he observed
-how they fought for places on the omnibuses, and jostled
-down the steps to the tube stations.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In Paris one is never conscious of that soundless siren
-which bids mankind close the ledger and lock the office
-door. The Parisian does not appear to be in any immediate
-hurry when work is over. He stays awhile to
-converse with a friend, or takes his <span class='it'>petit verre</span> under the
-shade of a café awning.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne reflected that the English must be a very
-virtuous race to exert so much energy to arrive home.
-He recognized that the old goddess of punctuality was
-still at work, and that the popular craving to be at a
-certain place at a certain time, which had galled him
-so much as a boy, was no false imagination.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They are still in a hurry—still tugged along by their
-watch-springs,” he thought.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As he watched the tide of hastening humanity he became
-suddenly aware that he was glad that it should
-be so—glad for a personal reason.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Routine which formed so national a characteristic
-argued a nation whose opinions, once formed, would
-endure.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>To be accepted by such a people would mean to inherit
-an imperishable greatness.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Presently,” he thought, “these people will accept
-me as essential to their lives. I shall be as necessary
-to them as the 8.40 from Sydenham. They will no more
-miss me than they would miss their breakfasts.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At this point the little impresario once more broke in
-upon his reflections.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ten o’clock rehearsal tomorrow,” he said. Then
-with severity, slightly diluted with humour, “No slipping
-off, mind. Feel I ought to keep an eye on you till that
-debt’s wiped off.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It is hard for any one to maintain glorious views as to
-the future while the present holds a doubt as to his
-probity in the matter of a five-pound note.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>For the second time in his life Wynne occupied the
-bedroom in the little Villers Street hotel. The good
-lady proprietress said she really did not remember if
-he had stayed there before or not, but she “dared say”
-he had. It was the sight of apparently the same uncooked
-sirloin surrounded by apparently the same tomatoes
-which had lured Wynne back to the little eating-house.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At dinner he conversed with the waiter upon technical
-subjects, and gave his views upon perfection in the art
-of waiting. The worthy fellow to whom these were addressed
-was not greatly interested however. He was
-glad to converse with any one skilled in his native tongue,
-but a long sojourn in the British Isles had given him
-taste for a meatier conversational diet, and he preferred
-the remarks of two men at another table who exchanged
-views relative to Aston Villa’s chances in the Cup
-Tie.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In consequence Wynne was left to his own thoughts,
-which, on this particular night, he found both pleasant
-and companionable. It was good to feel that at last
-he would be earning a livelihood by means of an Art,
-and a good Art too. Not so good, perhaps, but that it
-might not be a great deal better. In the few rehearsals
-he had already attended he had noted some glaring
-conventions and very grave stupidities, which he
-vowed in the future he would eradicate. The position of
-producer—a calling of which hitherto he had hardly
-been aware—suggested, of a sudden, illimitable possibilities.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The producer was the man with the palette and
-brushes, and the artistes were merely tubes of colour, to
-be applied how and where they would give the best result.
-There was no end to what a producer might achieve,
-and perhaps no better medium for conveying ideas to
-the public mind than through the stage.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>And just as Wynne had said, nearly two years before,
-“I must learn this trade of painting,” he now determined
-to master the art of acting in all its variations.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But I must write, too,” he thought, “and read and
-work all the time.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He passed a hand across his forehead and exhaled
-noisily. Great are the responsibilities which a man will
-take upon his shoulders!</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>III</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At the outset of his career as an actor Wynne found
-much to disappoint him. He learnt that brains and
-application do not necessarily result in stage success.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Among all the actors he met it was all too often the
-case that the most intelligent were the least successful.
-Personality and notoriety outweighed intellect. Even
-the most egregious ass, provided he was representative
-of a certain type, prospered exceedingly, while the really
-clever ones languished in the understudy room or formed
-unspeaking props to hang clothes upon.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A man needs to be on the stage some while before
-he can appreciate that casting and the box office are
-the chief considerations in a producer’s mind. It is
-easier and more satisfactory to engage a fool to play a
-fool than to ask a wise man to turn his wisdom to folly.
-Also it is a shrewd business stroke to give the public
-some very rapturous feminine vision to behold rather
-than give the part to some lady whose brain has a greater
-claim to admiration than her features. The world forgives
-stupidity when offset by loveliness—or even by a
-hint of subtle scandal—but a very high standard of intellectual
-perfection is required before the world will
-ignore a youth which has passed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Taking these matters into consideration, Wynne was
-constrained to believe that if theatre-goers were blind,
-and men gave up talking of matters which concerned
-them not, there would be an immediate demand for a
-class of actors, and particularly actresses, of a far higher
-mental quality than heretofore.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Regarding acting as an Art he had more admiration
-for the surviving members of the old school, who handed
-over their lines with an assumption of great importance,
-than he entertained for the scions of the new.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You, at least, do something,” he observed to one old
-fellow, in a drama company of which he had become a
-member. “You do something, and do it deliberately.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s so, my boy—that’s so,” came the mightily
-satisfied endorsement.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“These moderns do nothing but realize their own ineffability.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s true—it’s too true!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And of course the worst of it is what you do is
-utterly useless—utterly false—and utterly wrong⁠—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Eh?” A stick of grease-paint fell to the floor.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Whereas what they fail to do is, in the general sense,
-absolutely right.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Remarks of this kind do not make for popularity.
-This, however, did not concern Wynne in the least.
-He had acquired the habit of talking rather less than
-he was used to do. The thoughts and convictions which
-at one time had bubbled to the surface he now mentally
-noted and preserved. He felt, in the pride of his
-egoism, that it was not wise to give away his ideas in
-conversation to the more or less trivial people with whom
-he came into touch.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was otherwise when one of the more successful
-members of the company deigned to exchange a few remarks,
-for then he would bring all his mental batteries
-to work with a view to prove to them how vastly inferior
-they actually were.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>One or two engagements were lost through the exercise
-of this habit, and several straitened and penniless
-periods resulted. Twice in three years Wynne left the
-stage, but from circumstance or inclination gravitated
-back again. He was always able to earn two pounds
-to two pounds ten a week playing small character parts,
-and if his attitude had been a shade more congenial it
-is probable he would have done still better.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As a character actor he was singularly faultless and
-singularly conscientious. He possessed a remarkable
-facility for submerging his own personality and throwing
-off tiny portraits of different types, which were
-recognizable to the minutest detail. In the performance
-of these he took special pride, but if the producer
-interfered or made any suggestions he was truculent to
-a degree, and fought for his rendering with tiresome
-constancy.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It isn’t as if your suggestion would be in the least
-improving, and—good God!—if I am not to be trusted
-alone with eight lines, why on earth engage me?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>This remark was fired at a super-eminent producer
-before an entire West End company, and brought back
-from the black void of the auditorium:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Would you please draw a fortnight’s salary from the
-business manager, Mr. Rendall, and return your contract?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He left the theatre straight away, and did not attempt
-to draw the salary. In the sunshine outside he was overtaken
-with a masterful desire to cry:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They shan’t lead me—they shan’t! they shan’t!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was the wail of a little boy rather than of a man
-who fain would be a king.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He returned to his room in Endell Street and flung
-himself face downward on the bed, where he lay with
-heaving shoulders for a long, long while. Presently
-he turned round and sat bolt upright.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Everybody is against me, and I’m against everybody.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>On the table before him was a heap of books and
-a pile of papers, odd jottings, queer little articles, scraps
-of poetry written in the after-theatre hours. With a
-sudden fury he kicked at the table-leg and sent them
-tumbling and fluttering to the floor.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why do I hate the world when I want to exalt it?
-Oh, God—God—God! Damn this room! Oh, I’m
-lonely, I am so—so horribly lonely!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He went and stood in the corner, rested his head on
-the faded wallpaper, and sniffed:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m lonely—lonely—lonely—lonely—lonely! I
-don’t think I’m very strong—I think I’m ill—ill and
-lonely—lonely and ill—very ill, and very lonely!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Then suddenly he burst out laughing:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Fool!—idiot!—I’m all right! Papers all over the
-place. Pick ’em up. What’s all this rot about?” He
-read a few lines in his own handwriting: “A good sort
-is the type of man with whom we trust our sisters—a
-bad sort is the type of man with whom our sisters
-trust themselves!’ Epigram! Too long! ‘A sport is
-a man who says Cherio, and carries his brains in a
-cigarette case.’ Necktie would be better. Oh! what’s
-the good of writing this rubbish? What am I going
-to do now?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He snatched a hat and went out. Presently he found
-himself in Pen and Ink Square, with the ceaseless
-grumble of the news-producing engines throbbing in
-the air. Before him was a doorway over which was
-written “<span class='it'>The Oracle</span>.” He knew “<span class='it'>The Oracle</span>” for a
-democratic organ which shrieked obscenely at the politics
-and morals of the country—under the guise of seeking
-to purify, it contrived to include in its columns some
-very prurient matter, without which its sales would
-have been even smaller than they were.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne walked straight in, mounted some stairs, and
-beholding a door labelled “Editor—Private,” entered
-without knocking.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Who the devil are you?” said a stout man sitting before
-a roll-top desk.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You wouldn’t know if I told you,” replied Wynne.
-“I’m nobody yet.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What d’you want?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thought I’d write some articles for you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Think again—outside!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Might not get in so easily another time.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, get out now, then.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s very foolish. How d’you know I may not
-be bringing you a fortune?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m prepared to take the risk.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then take a smaller one, and give me a subject to
-write you a sample about.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Write about damn nuisances,” said the editor.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Give me a sheet of paper.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Look here! Are you going to get out?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. You told me to write about damn nuisances,
-and I’m going to do it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At this the editor leant back in his chair and said:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, if you haven’t a profound cheek—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Realizing the opening, Wynne seated himself before
-a vacant table and took up a pen.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Paper and silence,” he said, “are the ingredients
-required, and you shall have your article in an hour’s
-time.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Being a man of some humour the editor relaxed,
-and laughed exuberantly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Go to it then,” he said. “I’m off to tea, and I
-shall clear you out when I come back.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’ll do nothing of the kind. I’ll be on the permanent
-staff by nightfall.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In writing upon damn nuisances Wynne took for
-his subject such widely divergent national symbols as
-the Albert Memorial and <span class='it'>The Oracle</span>. Of the two
-<span class='it'>The Oracle</span> fared worst, and came in for the most
-complete defamation in its heartily criticized career.
-The article was iconoclastic, spirited and intensely
-funny. The entire office staff read it, and the editor volunteered
-to take Wynne out and make him drunk then
-and there. This offer Wynne declined, but he accepted
-the post of a casual article writer at a penny a line, and
-returned home with a greater feeling of satisfaction than
-he had known for some time.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The satisfaction, however, was short-lived, for in a
-very little while he was heartily ashamed of subscribing
-his signature to scurrilous paragraphs deprecating the
-private lives of parsons, and hinting darkly at dirty
-doings in Downing Street.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He perceived that by such means greatness was not
-to be achieved, and sought to ease his conscience by
-spending nearly all his earnings on reputable books,
-and most of his spare time in the reading-room at the
-British Museum. In the matter of food he was most
-provident, scarcely, if ever, standing himself a good
-meal. He acquired the habit of munching chocolate and
-of making tea at all hours of the day and night. By
-this means, although he staved off actual hunger, he
-was never properly satisfied, and his physical side became
-ill-nourished and gaunt. The hours he kept were
-as irregular as could well be conceived, and he frequently
-worked all night without a thought of going to bed.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>IV</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The days of his employment on the staff of <span class='it'>The
-Oracle</span> were far from happy, and the material he was
-asked to write soured his style and embittered his outlook.
-Of this circumstance he was painfully aware, and
-tried to combat it by writing of simple, gentle matters
-for his own education. But the canker of cynicism
-overran and corrupted his better thoughts like deadly
-nightshade twining in the brambles of a hedgerow.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Always his own severest critic, he would tear up the
-sheets of close-written manuscript and scatter them over
-the room, stamp his feet or throw up the window and
-hurl imprecation at the dying night.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Sometimes he sent articles or stories to the press,
-but from them he received no encouragement. <span class='it'>The
-Oracle</span> had an unsavoury reputation in Fleet Street,
-and no self-respecting editor desired to employ the
-journalists who wrote for this vicious little rag.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>After his uncompromising attitude at their first meeting,
-the editor of <span class='it'>The Oracle</span> made a great deal of
-Wynne, and besought him to sign a binding contract.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I won’t sign anything,” Wynne replied.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll give you a salary of seven pounds a week if you
-do.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I wouldn’t for seventy.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’ll think better of it later on.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Later on I shall wish to God I had never written
-for you at all. It isn’t a thing to be proud of.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At this the editor laughed and clapped him on the
-back.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ve been wanting some one like you for years,” he
-cried.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’ll be wanting some one like me again before
-long,” came the answer.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Strange to say, the stout man did not resent Wynne’s
-attitude, neither did he understand it. He regarded
-this queer, emaciated boy as an agreeable oddity, and
-allowed him to say whatever he liked. Wynne was most
-valuable to <span class='it'>The Oracle</span>, for his articles were infinitely
-more educated and infinitely more stinging than any of
-the other writers’. As a direct result they caused a corresponding
-increase of irritation and a corresponding
-improvement in sales.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Whenever there was a hint of scandal, or any disreputable
-suggestion in regard to some notable personage,
-Wynne was put on the track, with <span class='it'>carte noire</span> to
-give the affair the greatest possible publicity. In the
-pursuance of this degrading journalese of detection and
-exposure he disclosed unexpected moral considerations.
-When he did not consider the person to be attacked
-merited rough handling he would resolutely decline to
-associate himself in any way with the campaign. Entreaties
-and protests were alike incapable of moving him.
-He would set his mouth, and refuse, and fly into a
-towering fury with the editor when he suggested:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Very well, then, Harbutt must do it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Isn’t there enough beastliness in the world without
-seeking it where it doesn’t exist?” cried Wynne.
-“I’ll burn this damn building to the ground one of these
-days.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He did not actually put this threat into practice,
-but did the next best thing. A dispute had arisen in
-regard to some sordid disclosures which the editor desired
-to make, and Wynne had proved beyond dispute
-that there was no foundation for the charges. The
-editor, however, decided that the story was too good
-to lose, and accordingly had it inserted, with a thin
-veil drawn over the identity of the persons concerned.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“All right,” said Wynne, after he had seen a copy.
-“You’re going through the hoops for this.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>An opportunity arose a short while after, and Wynne
-seized it without scruple.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was the habit of the paper to reserve a column each
-month in which to set forth their ideals and intentions.
-Sometimes one and sometimes another of the
-writers undertook this work. As a rule it was the last
-paragraph to be inserted, and depended for its length
-upon the available space.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The sub-editor, who was also proof-reader, was not a
-conscientious man, and frequently delegated his duties
-to subordinates.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s all plain sailing,” he said to Wynne. “Write
-about four hundred words, and sling it over to the compositor.
-I’m meeting a friend or two tonight.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>With that he went out, and Wynne, with a peculiar
-smile, wrote the article, and very faithfully described
-the motives which inspired the paper.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“<span class='it'>The Oracle</span>,” he wrote, “is the Mungo of the London
-Press—a sniffing wretch for ever scrabbling garbage in
-the national refuse heaps.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There was a good deal more in this style, and the
-compositor, while setting up the type, was not a little
-disturbed in mind.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Is this to be printed?” he asked Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Certainly.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Danged if I can see what the idea is.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Imagine the sales, and go ahead.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The entire issue had to be destroyed, but one or two
-copies escaped from the printer’s hands, and a rival
-flew to hilarious headlines about it.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>To the amazement of every one Wynne marched into
-the office the morning after he had perpetrated the offence.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What the hell is the idea?” shouted the editor.
-“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Getting even with my conscience,” replied Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He looked very frail and insignificant with the semi-circle
-of scarlet, inflamed countenances and threatening
-fists besetting him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“If you don’t want to be killed, take your blasted
-conscience out of here.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He did, but with no great speed, although many were
-the offers of violence made as he passed out.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>V</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>On the Embankment Wynne apologized to God very
-sincerely for having debased his art. It was rather a
-pretty little prayer which he put up, and had a gentler
-tenor than his wonted expression. After it was finished
-he felt easier in mind, and comforted. But when he
-returned to his rooms the oppression of a great loneliness
-took command of his soul. Of late this feeling
-had dominated his thoughts not a little. He desired
-some one to whom he might confess his thoughts and
-fears, some one of the sympathetic intellect, who could
-smooth out the harsher creases of life’s cloak, and give
-companionable warmth to the solitary hours.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>No such friendships had come his way, and when
-he turned his thoughts more closely to the subject he
-could not imagine that he would be likely to happen
-upon such a one. Beyond the intermittent flashes of
-Uncle Clem’s society there had been no one with whom
-he could discuss his real feelings and emotions. Pride,
-and desire to excel, had kept him from seeking Uncle
-Clem when the mood of loneliness was upon him. He,
-as it were, saved up that friendship for the great days
-ahead. The few occasions when he had sought to
-quicken intimacy from acquaintance had invariably led
-to nothing. Once a young actor asked him to share an
-idle hour or two, and before they arrived at the end
-of the street stopped at the door of a public-house and
-invited him to enter.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let’s get primed—what do you say?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>And Wynne said, “Need we? I don’t drink for a
-hobby.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Care for a game of pills?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not very much.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, what <span class='it'>do</span> you care about?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The suggestion that in order to be entertained one
-must either drink or play billiards made Wynne laugh,
-and since no man cares to have his more serious pleasures
-ridiculed, the young actor snorted, and left him to spend
-the rest of the evening alone.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Possibly it was loneliness which directed Wynne once
-more to seek employment upon the stage. In the play
-in which he appeared he was given the part of a hot-potato
-man who was on the stage for only a few moments.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>To perfect the detail for this rôle he made the acquaintance
-of a real example of this calling, and spent
-many midnight hours talking with the old fellow and
-warming himself before the pleasant coke fire.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne discovered that there was a deal of philosophy
-to be gleaned in this manner. Thereafter he became well
-known to many of the strange, quiet men who feed the
-hungry in queer, out-of-the-way corners of the sleeping
-city.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>On Sundays he would go to Petticoat Lane, or pry
-into the private lives of the outcasts of Norfolk House.
-The East End fascinated him, with its mixture of old
-customs and new—its spice of adventure and savour of
-Orientalism. Many of the folk with whom he conversed
-were strangely illuminating. After an initial period
-of distrust and suspicion they would open out and disgorge
-some startling views on life and matters in general.
-They spoke of anarchy and crime and confinements
-as their more civilized brothers of the West spoke
-of the brand of cigarettes they preferred. The elemental
-side of these men’s natures, being so totally dissimilar
-from his own, made a profound impression upon Wynne.
-Their attitude toward women amazed and perplexed
-him. The phrase, “<span class='it'>my</span> woman,” with its solid, possessive,
-animal note, was original to the ears. It suggested
-an entirely different attitude from the one he had observed
-in France, the one so alive with thrill and volatile
-desire.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“<span class='it'>My</span> woman!” he repeated it over to himself as he
-plodded homeward through the dark streets. He said
-it experimentally with the same inflection that had been
-used—and yet to him it was only an inflection. He
-could not conceive a circumstance in which he would
-naturally stress the “my,” or would actually feel the
-possessive impulse to make it inevitable.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“She’s <span class='it'>my</span> woman,” the man had said, when telling
-his story—“<span class='it'>my</span> woman, d’y’hear?” Followed an oathy
-description of a chair and table fight, a beer bottle
-broken across a bedrail and used as a dagger—something,
-that was once a man, carried in the arms of a
-trustworthy few and hidden in a murky doorway a
-couple of streets distant.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was hard to imagine such a coming about at the
-dictates of a convention of sex. If a woman inclined
-to sin with another man, let her—what did it matter?
-Fidelity was of very little consequence. Common reason
-proved it to be a myth. Yet men committed murder
-that fidelity—physical fidelity—might be preserved.
-That’s what it amounted to. But did it? That possessive
-“my” argued a greater and more masterful motive—something
-beyond mere moral adherences.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“<span class='it'>My</span> woman!” Very perplexing!</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But I suppose I would fight to the death for my
-ideals—whatever they may be.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>With sudden force it struck Wynne that he should
-define his ideals, and know precisely at what he aimed.
-It was good for a man to be certain of those things for
-which he would be prepared to lay down his life.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He set himself the task of writing down what his
-ideals actually were, and in so doing failed horribly.
-What he wrote was inconclusive and embryonic. To a
-reader it would have conveyed little or nothing. There
-was a hint of some ambition, but nothing more. It
-showed the target of his hopes in the pupal stage. The
-grammatical perfection with which he wrote only added
-melancholy to the failure.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“My God!” exclaimed Wynne, “I can’t even write
-a specification of what I want to do.”</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>VI</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The play in which Wynne figured as a hot-potato
-man was not a success, and there followed a period in
-which he found no work, and very considerable hardship.
-Then his fortunes turned a trifle, and to reward
-himself for all he had endured he took new rooms at
-the top of a house near Tottenham Court Road, and
-spent all his money buying furniture and queer odds
-and ends of brass and Oriental china. It was the first
-time he had indulged in the luxury of agreeable appointments,
-and it gave him tremendous pleasure. The
-furniture he bought was true to its period, though time
-and the worm had bitten deep beneath the blackened
-surfaces. He bought in the Caledonian Market or little
-known streets, and took a fierce pride in bartering for
-his prizes. These he would bring home upon his head,
-or, if their size defeated his powers, would push them
-before him on a greengrocer’s barrow. For pieces of
-<span class='it'>vertu</span> he possessed a sure and infallible eye, and a remarkable
-sense for disposing them to the best advantage.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>On the mantelpiece of the attic sitting-room he
-achieved successfully what, years before, he had failed
-to do in his father’s home. A note of colour from a
-cracked Kin Lung bowl, a fillip of light from a battered
-copper kettle, a slanting pile of beautifully-bound books,
-and the thing was done.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There was no struggle after effect, but the effect was
-there as if by nature—the right things had found their
-rightful abiding place.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He found writing easier in these surroundings.
-Hitherto his eye had inevitably fallen upon some
-hideous object or picture, unthinkingly bought and
-disastrously disposed in relation to its neighbours—then
-his thoughts would travel away, lose the thread of their
-reasoning, or become involved in futile speculation upon
-other folks’ perverted tastes. But here it was different:
-here there were no disturbing influences, nothing but a
-pleasant, restful simplicity.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mrs. Mommet, the bed-shaker, who, for a very small
-wage, gave Wynne an equally small measure of time,
-did not share his high opinions of himself as a
-decorator.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know ’ow you can put up with the place,”
-she said, shaking her head sadly over the pail of dirty
-water which was her constant companion. “It gives
-me the creeps every time I comes into it. That ole
-table, y’know. Well, it <span class='it'>looks</span> as if it was a ’undred
-years old.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s a great deal more,” said Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There you are, y’see! Why you don’t git a nice
-cloth and cover it up beats me!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Roundheads drank at that table,” said Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Fat-’eads, more like—nowhere for your knees or
-anything. And the walls, too! My ole man does a
-bit o’ paper-’anging to oblige in ’is spare time. I dessay
-’e’d ’ang a piece for you, to oblige.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He would oblige me very much by doing nothing of
-the kind.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thet’s silly—that is. No one can’t like plain walls
-when they can ’ave ’em floral. Not so much as a picture
-anywhere! W’y don’t you pin up a few photos?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t possess any, and I—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, if that’s all, I dessay I could give you a few.
-Liknesses, they’d be—not views. You could ’ave any
-one of my pore Minnie o’o was took.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne did not want to offend the woman, but was
-forced to safeguard his own peace of mind.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You ought not to give them away in the circumstances,”
-he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Fortunately Mrs. Mommet did not press the offer.
-She had some views to express in relation to “nice plush
-curtains,” which Wynne hastily discouraged.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, well, you must please yourself, I s’pose.
-Gentlemen never do ’ave any taste, as the sayin’ is.
-Still, it’s no small wonder you look poorly, and yer face
-is as white as the under-side of a lemon sole.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The description was apt. Wynne’s features were certainly
-of a lifeless hue. The long hours, the poor food,
-and the never-ending mental activity had sapped a full
-measure of his youth. No one would have placed his
-age at twenty-three, yet twenty-three summers were all
-that he held to his credit. One might have guessed him
-nearer forty—and a none too hearty forty either. Only
-his eyes were young—young and greedily active—for
-ever assessing and assimilating, but this seemed to detract
-from, rather than add to, his youth.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Yet despite his frailty and general suggestion of
-weakness, Wynne could, upon occasion, develop startling
-energy. He used his brain as the driving force which
-overcame his feebleness, and bade his muscles undertake
-tasks out of all proportion to their ability. On one occasion
-he carried an armchair, weighing nearly a hundredweight,
-for three miles, a task which a strong man
-might well have failed to accomplish. His power lay
-in the will to do, and a form of obstinate courage which
-defied all obstacles.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I am glad you said soul,” he said, “for I have long
-believed that to be the only thing that matters.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mrs. Mommet shook her head.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I was talkin’ of fishmonger’s, not parson’s souls,”
-she replied; “but if you ask me, I should say firce look
-after the body, and the soul’ll look after itself. Same
-as the ole sayin’ ’bout the pennies and the poun’s. If
-you was to feed your body up a bit, ’stead o’ wastin’
-money on ole cracked plates, books and whatnot, you’d
-be doing yerself more good, you would.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Depends on the point of view.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I know I can’t never do nothin’ if I neglect my bit
-o’ nourishment.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nor I, but you work with your body and I with my
-brain. That’s why we stock our larders with different
-fare. There’s mine yonder.” He tilted his head
-toward the crowded bookcases.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Lot o’ nonsense! Ole books!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t despise them, please.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t; but a book’s a thing for after dinner, not
-to make yer dinner off of, like you do. Wonder is you
-’aven’t more pride in yerself.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Pride?” He was quite startled.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A young feller like wot you are lettin’ ’imself go to
-pieces like the lilies in the field, or whatever the sayin’
-is. ’Ow d’you s’pose you’ll ever take the fancy of a
-young woman lookin’ like you do? You wouldn’t never
-do it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne smiled. “Is it only the dressed ox which can
-go to the altar?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I donno nothin’ ’bout dressed oxes, but I do know
-as any young woman of spirit looks for a man with a
-bit of blood in ’im. After all, nature’s nature, y’know,
-with Christian or ’eathen alike, and there’s no gettin’
-away from it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You should write a treatise on Eugenics,” said
-Wynne, and escaped to the solitude of his bedroom.</p>
-
-<div><span class='pageno' title='199' id='Page_199'></span><h1>PART FIVE<br/> <span class='sub-head'>EVE</span></h1></div>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>I</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>During a rehearsal of a new play in which he
-was engaged Wynne noticed Eve Dalry. She
-was walking-on in the crowd, and did not seem
-of a piece with the other girls. When her scene was
-over she slipped away to a quiet corner and produced
-a book. Finding the required page, she shook her head
-as though to banish other considerations, seated herself
-on an upturned box, and began to read with great
-absorption.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Partly from curiosity to see the title of the book
-Wynne moved toward her. Carlyle’s “Heroes and Hero
-Worship.” A queer choice for a girl to make, he
-thought, and wondered how much she understood. For
-awhile he stood behind her glancing at a paragraph here
-and there, and watching the careful way she turned
-over a page, then turned it back again to reread and
-reconsider some passage not wholly understood. He was
-unused to women who read so seriously, and, despite the
-semi-cynical smile at the corners of his mouth, her
-studiousness impressed him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Presently, impelled by a new and curious familiarity,
-he drew a long, tapered forefinger over the straight,
-thin parting in her hair. She looked up slowly, as
-though his action had been scarcely enough to distract
-her attention.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I like the shape of your head,” he found himself
-saying in reply to the query in her eyes, “it is the
-kind of vessel which is never empty. The square of
-your chin, too, is so very right. One seldom sees the
-two together.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She met the critical survey with equal candour.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I have been liking your head,” she said, “but not
-the chin. Its⁠—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She drew a slanting line in the air.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I know,” he nodded; “but it’s not significant.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I meant that—insignificant.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne was not at his best when humour turned
-against him. His smile and his frown struck a balance.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I could quote the names of a dozen brilliant men
-who did not carry their strength or wit in the lower
-half of their faces, and illustrate my instances at the
-National Portrait Gallery.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Are you brilliant?” There was no barb to the
-question.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It pleases me to think so.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“One wonders, then, why you are doing this little
-jobbery in a theatre.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, that’s reasonable enough. I wonder, too, sometimes.
-I suppose I was hungry when I took the engagement.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This is not your real work, then?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I hardly know what my real work is, but it is not
-in the market. In theory real work never should be in
-the market.”</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>“ ‘And no one shall work for money</p>
-<p class='line0'>And no one shall work for fame,’ ”</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='noindent'>quoted Eve.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Spare me from Kipling. It is so disheartening to
-find one’s views supported by quotations.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m not so advanced as that. I’m rather proud of
-quotations—I look on them as medals for reading.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He made an intolerant gesture.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But no sane persons show their medals.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“While I’m young I had rather not be altogether
-sane.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good! I take back sanity. It’s the worst asset an
-artist can possess.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She looked at him with a faint, intricate smile.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You are easy to catch out,” she said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Possibly. I don’t aspire to be a cricketer. Indeed,
-cricket stands for all I dislike most. Cricket is an
-Englishman’s notion of the proper conduct of life—a
-game with rules. If he resists seducing a friend’s wife
-it is because to do so is not cricket.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do you favour his doing so?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not I—but it depends on the mood and the man,
-and the attraction. I simply do not admit the existence
-of cricket in these matters.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do you know,” said Eve, “you seem to me to be
-expressing ideas and not thoughts. Tell me, what is
-your real work?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I assume that one day I shall know, but I don’t
-know yet. If I were to say painting—writing—talking—acting—I
-should be equally right. I have searched
-the dictionaries in vain to find a word to describe myself.
-The verb ‘to lead’ is the nearest approach. I
-think, by nature, I am the centre of a circle—a circle
-that is even widening. Sounds absurd, doesn’t it?—to
-lead from the centre of a circle.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The conviction and frankness with which he discussed
-himself was remarkable, and, strangely enough, not offensive.
-He possessed a quality of magnetism which
-robbed his words of half their arrogance. Eve allowed
-her eyes to travel over him with calm interest. His
-clothes were careless and shabby, his collar too big, and
-his cuffs frayed; his tie seemed anywhere but in the
-right place. At the first glance she saw he was ill-nourished,
-and felt an immediate impulse to feed him
-up with possets and strong beef tea. Frailty excites
-kindly resolves from the generous-hearted. She found
-his features attractive, despite their irregularity, and his
-eyes appealed to her enormously. They were such
-plucky eyes, eyes that would look the world in the face
-unfalteringly and support with impertinent courage the
-wildest views which the mobile, cynical, and weak mouth
-might choose to utter.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>When anything pleased her, Eve laughed—not so
-much a laugh of amusement as a purr of satisfaction.
-The unusual appealed to her, and beyond all doubt
-Wynne Rendall was unusual. Hers were plucky eyes
-too. They rested frankly, and seemed to read the meanings
-of what they reflected. Eve had a broad forehead,
-straight brows, and clean-cut, clearly defined features.
-Her mouth was sweet and tolerant; to borrow from a
-painter’s terminology, it was a beautifully drawn mouth.
-One felt she would be very sure in all her dealings—analytic
-and purposeful. Hers was not a present-day
-face, but belonged rather to the period of the old Florentine
-Masters.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>For quite a while these two young people surveyed
-each other with calm appreciation, and presently Wynne
-broke the silence.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You are a new type to me,” he said—“a perplexing
-type. I’ve seen you on canvas, but never in the flesh.
-Something of Leonardo’s Lucretia! We might see more
-of each other, I think.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” she said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He was about to speak again when the leading man
-came through a door in the canvas scene and moved
-toward them. In an instant Wynne pulled down the
-corners of his mouth pathetically.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh dear! I must go.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why? Your scene is a long way ahead.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I know, but here’s K. G. If I stayed he might think
-I wanted to talk to him—and I don’t.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Eve understood the feeling very well. Those whose
-future is all to make are wary and resentful of patronage,
-and often needlessly shun the society of others more
-successful than themselves. None is more jealous of his
-pride than the climber.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She allowed Wynne to depart unhindered, and
-presently the eminent K. G. came near enough to condescend
-a “Good morning.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Been talking to young Rendall?” he queried.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She nodded.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A queer boy—quite a clever actor—quite! A good
-sense of character!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Very.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Know him well?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“About five minutes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, yes—yes. Sadly opinionated! Notice it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He has opinions, certainly.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“H’m! Never get on—people with too many views.
-He won’t learn—clever enough in himself, but won’t
-learn from others.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I rather thought he had learnt a good deal from
-others.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh no—most inaccessible.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Does that mean he wouldn’t learn from you?” she
-inquired, very frankly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>K. G. looked down in mild surprise. Young ladies
-who are “walking-on” should agree with and not interrogate
-those lofty beings whose salaries are paid by
-cheque. But this young lady ignored the principle, and
-seemed to expect an answer.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” he replied, very frankly. “Of course it’s his
-own affair if he cares to ignore the advice of—well—”
-Modesty forbade the mention of his own name, and he
-finished the sentence by a gesture.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Of course it is,” said Eve.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>K. G. frowned. The conversation was not proceeding
-on orthodox lines.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Still, as I say, young men of that sort do not get
-on.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I can’t see why. Perhaps he thought you could
-teach him nothing.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was the protective mother instinct compelled the
-words. The remark annoyed K. G. excessively. It was
-not, however, his habit to vent irritation upon a woman,
-even though she might be its original cause, consequently
-he attacked Wynne Rendall.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He is a fellow who wants a good kicking, and has
-never had it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A man always wants to kick what he cannot understand,”
-said Eve.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>To defend some one who is absent from the attacks
-of a third person is a sure basis upon which friendships
-are established. When Eve returned to her little bed-sitting-room
-after the rehearsal, Wynne Rendall occupied
-a large share of her thoughts.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I like him,” she said to herself. “He’s all wrong
-in all sorts of ways, but there’s something tremendous
-about him in spite of that—and I like him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She fell to wondering how he had arrived at what he
-was, what queer turns of circumstance or inclination
-had aged the youth from him. With quickening
-sympathy she recalled his sunken cheeks, the nervous
-sensitive movements of his hands and head.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Looks as if he never had enough to eat. I’m sure
-he doesn’t eat enough.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Then she laughed, for in her own existence eating
-did not enter very largely. A salary of one pound one
-shilling per week does not admit of extravagant <span class='it'>menus</span>.
-A woman can keep the roses of her cheeks flowering
-upon very little. With a man it is different. A man,
-to be a man, must set his teeth in solid victuals, or nature
-denied will deny.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She thought over her exchange with the leading man,
-and was glad she had stood up for Wynne. It offended
-her that a fat, luxurious fellow should say what
-he chose, and imagine himself immune from counter-attack
-on account of his position in the company. She
-would not have been at ease with her conscience if she
-had acted otherwise. In the circumstances Eve did not
-prosper well with her reading that night. “Heroes and
-Hero Worship” was cast aside to make room for other
-considerations.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At the rehearsal next day it was with almost a
-proprietary interest she responded to Wynne’s flickering
-greeting.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You are making a reputation,” he said, and added,
-“by the easiest way.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What way is that?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Being frank with your superiors.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Is it easy?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Assuredly—if you have the courage. Most people
-are content to accept their superiors as being superior.
-Invert the principle—tell an accepted success you consider
-him an ass—and you create an immediate interest
-in yourself.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It wasn’t my reason,” said Eve.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Wasn’t it?” He seemed quite surprised.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. He annoyed me, and I showed him I was annoyed.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You were sincere, then?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Of course.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How queer of you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why queer?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, I don’t know. It seems so odd to be sincere
-with a man like that. Are you often sincere?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. Aren’t you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Inside I am. Been at the stage long?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This is the beginning.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The egg stage?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Tell me, where do you live?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A room—anywhere.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’ve no people, then?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“None to whom I matter—or who matter to me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I know. D’you know I was afraid you might have
-been rich and comfortable.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Eve fingered a piece of her dress and held it out.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Eight-three a yard, and made at home.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There are rich women who disguise themselves.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I am not one. I have king’s treasures, that is all.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A row of books over your bed, h’m.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That was clever,” she smiled.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I could guess the authors.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Try.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Meredith—Browning—Hardy—Wendell Holmes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Pretty good—especially Meredith.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You mustn’t overdo Meredith—he is a cult, not an
-author. You’re intricate—with the ‘Diana’ courage,
-and that’s dangerous. If you care to borrow I have
-some books. Come and choose a few.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“May I? I should like that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come tonight?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s the first night of the play.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’d forgotten. Well”—with a sudden impulse—“why
-not after it is over?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“If you like.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He rubbed his chin with his long, sensitive fingers,
-and nodded approvingly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’d make a friend,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He could say things very attractively when he chose.
-The remark was a compliment to Eve and her sex.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>II</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne’s part ended with the first act, but he waited
-at the stage door till the close of the play. Presently
-Eve came out and joined him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Very small she looked wrapped in a long brown coat,
-with her hands tucked in the pockets. She wore a little
-close-fitting hat which accentuated the oval of her
-gravely piquant face.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Which way?” she asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Through Covent Garden, if we walk. Be jollier
-to walk, I think, don’t you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He suddenly remembered when last he had put the
-same question, and almost flushed at the memory. Then,
-as now, he had been seeking a friend. He had been
-a long time finding one.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, much,” said Eve. “I always walk back. I
-like it, and it saves the pennies.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I like it, and try not to remember that it saves the
-pennies,” he remarked whimsically. “ ’Tisn’t bad being
-poor when one doesn’t mean to be poor for ever. I have
-tremendous beliefs that this is only a passing stage,
-haven’t you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A valley?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, which in passing through gives us the answer
-to all manner of whys and wherefores.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Eve nodded. “What a queer old street!” she said.
-“I haven’t been this way before.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There’s a coffee stall at the corner where I buy
-provender; that’s why I brought you. There it is.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They stopped at the stall, with the proprietor of which
-Wynne seemed on excellent terms, and bought some
-hard-boiled eggs, “balls of chalk” as they are familiarly
-called.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A friend to every one that man is,” said Wynne as
-they proceeded on their way. “Does all manner of
-good turns to the queer folk whose business keeps ’em
-abroad late. He lent me three suppers once, at a time
-when I needed them badly.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>From a glowing oven on wheels nearer his lodging
-they bought baked potatoes.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Put one in each pocket. Finest things in the world
-to keep your hands warm.” As she followed his advice
-he nodded encouragingly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s the way. It’s a fire and a good dinner all
-in one. I’ve a very great regard for a baked potato;
-it’s the president of the republic of vegetables, as the
-hot pie is the dowager queen of confectionery.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What do you call a hot pie?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Just that! They used to be cooked in the streets
-in little portable ovens. Did you never meet a pieman?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t think so.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Daresay not, for the last one died two years ago.
-A fine fellow he was. I went to his funeral.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’d love to have seen a real pieman. Didn’t Simple
-Simon meet one going to a fair?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“So it’s said.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And now they’ve all gone for ever. How sad!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Tell you what,” exclaimed Wynne, “there’s an old
-man Richmond way who sells hot turnovers. When
-the spring comes we might ’bus down there, have a
-walk in the park, and munch turnovers in the night on
-the way home.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, let’s do that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Very ordinary affairs assume a delicate outline when
-approached in a romantic spirit. The idea of eating
-turnovers on the top of a ’bus does not sound very attractive,
-and yet to Wynne, as he suggested it, and to
-Eve as she listened, the promised expedition seemed full
-of the happiest possibilities. They felt the touch of a
-spring breeze blowing in their hair, and saw the
-whitey-green of the new leaves, and the blue sky turn
-to a lavender in which the stars appeared. Almost they
-could taste the good baked crust and the sour-sweet
-apples of the midnight feast.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“D’you know,” said Eve, “I think, of all things in
-the world, the most glorious are those we mean to do.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They stopped before an old Queen Anne house, and
-producing a latchkey Wynne unlocked the door.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Top floor,” he said, “and rather a climb.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They mounted the creaky stairs, and he was puffing
-gustily when they reached the top landing. For a
-young man he seemed unduly exhausted. Striking a
-light on his boot, he entered and lit a shaded lamp.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Take off your hat and I’ll get the fire going.
-Look! I must have paid the rent, for it is actually
-laid.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Eve smiled as he went down on his knees before a
-tiny basket grate, then let her gaze travel round the
-room. Inset, in the damp-stained slanting roof, were
-two gable windows, broad silled and littered with books
-and papers. Before one of these was a writing table,
-dilapidated but glorious with age; this, too, was liberally
-sprinkled with half-written manuscripts, pens, cigarette
-ends, and the jumble of odds and ends with which a man
-surrounds himself. A small Jacobean table stood in the
-middle of the uncarpeted floor, a tarnished copper bowl,
-battered but still shapely, giving tone to its dark
-fissured surface. Two age-worn grandfather chairs were
-drawn up near the fire. In each recess in the walls was
-a bookcase, piled ceiling-high with books. A couple of
-Holbein prints, and an unframed Albrecht Dürer completed
-the decoration. It was a shabby, unkempt room,
-yet, like its owner, it possessed individuality and charm.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I like this,” said Eve. “I’m glad I came.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You like it. I thought you would—hoped so, too.
-I’ve never shown it to any one else. It is good though,
-isn’t it? Try that chair. I carried it back on my head
-from a ragshop in Holloway Road, and having nearly
-deprived me of life it gave it back to me in sweet repose.
-Take off your coat first, won’t you? That’s
-right. Don’t forget the ’taters though. Thanks! I’ll
-put ’em on the trivet. Good. Thank God the fire means
-to burn. D’you know sometimes I’ve almost cried when
-it wouldn’t. I can’t lay a fire, and I loathe to be defeated.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He began wandering round the room and producing
-plates and knives from unexpected quarters. Presently
-he stopped and puzzled.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Can you think of a likely place to find the bread?”
-he asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where did you see it last?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know. I have meals at all sorts of odd
-times and places, so one loses track. Wait a minute,
-though.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He disappeared into the bedroom and emerged with
-a loaf and a saucer with butter on it.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Breakfasted while I was dressing,” he explained,
-“or else I had supper in there over night. I don’t know
-which—but let’s make a start.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They feasted very royally off bread and hard-boiled
-eggs and hot potatoes and raspberry jam, followed by
-a pot of tea. The tea they drank from little Chinese
-Saki cups without handles.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I only use these on the especialist occasions,” he
-announced, adding with a smile, “In fact I have never
-used them before.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Haven’t you many friends?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. Have you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I thought you hadn’t.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“People with lots of friends don’t like me—but then
-I don’t like them—so that’s that—isn’t it. Let’s draw
-near the fire. The poor little thing means well, but it
-can’t reach us at such a distance.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>So they drew up their chairs and talked. They talked
-of books, of dead men, and of great ambitions. Under
-the influence of her society Wynne seemed to lose much
-of his arrogance and cynicism. He spoke of the things
-he loved naturally and with reverence. Ever and again
-he would dart to the shelves for a volume and read some
-passage to the point of the subject they had been discussing.
-Then he would throw it aside and paraphrase
-with a clear and almost inspired insight.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“One should always paraphrase,” he said. “One
-should paraphrase one’s own thoughts and every one
-else’s. It’s the sure way of getting down to basic facts.
-If I were to produce a play of Shakespeare’s I should
-make every actor translate his lines into colloquial schoolboy
-English. Then we should know he had his meanings
-right. Some glimmer of that necessity occurred to
-me the first time I went to a theatre, but now I see how
-absolutely essential it is.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The talk always led back to himself. His own ego
-was the all-important factor.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Extraordinary wrong most people are in their
-ideas!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“When will you start to put them right?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He looked at her keenly—on guard lest she should be
-laughing at him. But the question was sincere enough.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, I don’t know,” he answered. “I don’t believe
-in beginnings—gradual ascent, ladder of fame, and all
-that. Life to me is divided into two halves—the period
-of finding out and the period of handing out. I don’t
-intend to be a person who is beginning to be spoken of.
-When I am spoken of it will be by every one—simultaneously.
-In the meantime it is better to be obscure—and
-absorbent.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You want success.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I shall have it too.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“For the world’s sake.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ye-es—and for mine.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Quarter after quarter boomed out from the neighbouring
-clocks. It was after two when Eve rose and took her
-coat from the nail on the door.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You going?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Shall I walk with you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, it isn’t far.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Very well—I want to work too. But you’ll come
-again, won’t you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“If I may.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ’Course you may. You must. You’re an easy
-person—easier than I’d have thought possible—you sort
-of—don’t bother me. Take a Walter Pater with you.
-Better for you than Meredith. Treat it gently, though;
-I starved a whole week to buy that book.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She took the white-vellum bound volume, nodded,
-and tucked it under her arm.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good-night.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ’Night. You are rather an admirable person.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Am I?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. A girl is generally frightened to be in a man’s
-rooms in the middle of the night.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It wouldn’t occur to me to be frightened of you,”
-said Eve.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why not?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A man who starved for a week to buy this.” She
-touched the book under her arm.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>For some reason her gently spoken words piqued him,
-and he replied:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yet I am a man just the same.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A man but not the same,” she said, and, smiling,
-passed out on to the landing.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She had descended the first flight before he moved
-and followed her to the front door.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I will walk back with you.” It was what any man
-would have said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, please not. I had rather think of you as the
-student working for the day.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He hesitated—then, “Very well. Good-night.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good-night.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He retraced his steps slowly. The memory of her attitude
-and her words puzzled him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“More like a boy,” he concluded, which if you think
-it out was a very fine form of conceit.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>His thoughts wandered from his work, and he bit
-his pen for a long, long while. His eyes rested unseeingly
-on the black patch which was the window.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“More like a boy—much more.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He nodded to convince himself. After all, the friendship
-of a boy who is really a girl is very pleasant.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Never once did it cross his mind how entirely negligible
-was the physical side of his nature. A man
-whose brain works with febrile intensity night and day,
-and whose earnings are scarcely sufficient to buy the
-meanest fare, knows little or nothing of passionate callings.
-Unlike your idle, over-fed fellow whose intellect
-performs no greater task than finding excuses for bodily
-indulgence, the student’s sensuality lies in words and
-colour. His worst vice is the prostitution of an artistic
-standard.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>III</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was the neuter quality in Wynne Rendall which
-made possible the all-hour intimacy which came to exist
-between Eve and himself. She would come to his rooms,
-indifferent to time and convention, and stay far into the
-night.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Sometimes they conversed little, and then, while he
-worked or wandered about in a seemingly aimless fashion,
-seeking some cherished but elusive word, she would read,
-curled up in the age-worn chair. When the talking
-mood possessed him she would lay her book aside and
-contribute endorsement or censure to his ideas. In this
-respect her courage was boundless, for she never hesitated
-to dispute with him when she felt he was at fault.
-He would fight for his mental holdings to the last breath
-of argument, then of a sudden swing round and say:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, I know you are right—but how do you know?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>His extraordinary belief in himself filled her with a
-queer mixture of distress and admiration, but the distress
-was outweighed by the admiration and the joy she
-took in their brain to brain fencing or accord. Their
-talks, although embracing nearly every subject under the
-sun, were, as a rule, impersonal, or rather impersonal
-in so far as their relations to one another was concerned.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In common with many folk, Wynne thought more
-highly of his lesser deeds than of his greater, and vaunted
-them enthusiastically. He was inordinately proud of
-his truculence and acerbity to men who were more successful
-than himself, and took pleasure in recounting
-the fine-edged verbal tools he had employed against
-them. He was mortally offended when Eve told him
-frankly the attitude was unworthy and easily misconstrued.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They only think you are envious,” she said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I envious of them? Good God!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Her frankness had its effect, however, for he modified
-the characteristic, and no longer shouted “Yah”
-at lesser intellects and longer purses.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Another change she brought about was the matter of
-diet. Very drastically she quashed the nibbling habit
-which with him had taken the place of meals.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Wynne,” she said, “what did you have for breakfast?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Lord knows. I don’t! Nothing, I expect.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Would you like to please me?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” he answered, “I suppose so.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You are starving yourself.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What nonsense!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You are. You won’t be able to stand the strain
-if you don’t eat properly.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I shan’t if I do,” he replied. “How can I buy
-books and pay rent and all that if I lavish my substance
-on victuals.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How much do you spend a week on food?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Never thought.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Think then.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not I. Look! You haven’t seen this copy of
-‘Erewhon,’ have you? It’s a first edition!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I want you to answer my question.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He tossed his head petulantly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, don’t be like that,” he implored. “The world
-is peopled with folk who worry about these matters;
-let’s be away from them. You’ll want me to buy a
-dinner-gong next so that half the street may know I am
-sitting down to table.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Perhaps I shall, for I want you to sit at table—regularly.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He caught the word “regularly,” and played tunes
-upon it.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I know,” said Eve, “and I like you for feeling that
-way—but you are fighting against nature—not convention—and
-that’s all wrong. We funny little things
-who walk about on the world must follow certain laws—we
-can’t help ourselves—and we may as well follow
-them sensibly. We have to lie down and get up and
-wash our faces and brush our hair and eat our dinners;
-we have to—if we didn’t we should accomplish nothing.
-It is foolish to fight with the ‘musts’ when there are
-armies of ‘needn’t be’s’ to draw the sword against.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He snorted derisively and ridiculed prosaic philosophy.
-When he had finished she calmly repeated her
-question.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How much do you spend a week on food?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Very reluctantly he produced a sheet of paper and
-a pencil and scribbled a rough estimate.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Will you give me the nine shillings and let me cater
-for you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” he said emphatically.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Please do.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why should I spend money on a dinner when I can
-stave off hunger with a stick of chocolate?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Couldn’t we make a common fund and have one
-meal together each day. I’d cook it here.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>His expression brightened instantly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You would? You’d come each day?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“If you consent.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Hitherto her comings had been sporadic—too sporadic.
-He had felt, when she was absent, the consciousness of
-something lacking.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I should like you to come here every day,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He was willing to accept a routine of her society,
-though rebelling against a time-table for meals. She
-smiled as the thought crossed her mind, but to have
-voiced it would have been to sacrifice the gains she
-had made.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“If you consent,” she repeated.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“All right; do what you will,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>So every afternoon Eve cooked a meal over a grubby
-little gas-ring, assisted by a methylated spirit stove, and
-had the satisfaction of seeing her labours rewarded by
-a slightly added tinge of colour to his cheeks.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In buying the food she contributed more toward the
-cost than he, for in the matter of money he was strangely
-unmindful. Frequently he forgot his weekly contribution
-altogether, and returned home with some trifle
-of china or an old print by way of alternative. On
-these occasions it did not occur to him to question how
-meals still appeared upon his table, and Eve would not
-have told him for the world how hard it had been that
-this should be so.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Increasingly her thoughts centred on his welfare, and
-her own personality took second place. Even her ambitions—and
-they had been many and glorious—became
-merged in the task of helping him to success.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He had not taken into consideration the possibility
-that she, too, was a climber at heart, and had set her
-sails for the port where the dreams come true. He was
-quite offended when one day she spoke of herself.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But can you act?” he staccatoed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“One day I shall,” she answered. “One day I shall
-feel I know so much more than all the others—then I
-shall act, and people will sit up and say so.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“H’m.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You think it unlikely?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, I don’t know.” He fidgeted with a cup on the
-mantelshelf. “It seemed you were echoing those things
-which I say to myself.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We have thoughts in common.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He shook his head irritably.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t admit it. There is no common currency in
-thoughts or ideas. To me parallel lines are antagonistic
-lines. Why should you want to act?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I want to express myself as strongly as you do. I
-want to succeed.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t like women who succeed. Why should you
-succeed? Where’s the necessity—?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Born in me,” she answered.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>His words for the moment had hurt her bitterly, but
-the subtler side of her nature took comfort from the almost
-childishly petulant tone in which he had spoken
-them.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The necessity is born by the things around you,” he
-said. “They are the impulses toward success.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, that’s true. Perhaps it was the wretched drabness
-of my surroundings which fired the impulse in me.
-We haven’t talked to each other of our people, you and
-I?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I never think back,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I do, because it’s the impetus to think forward.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He looked at her critically.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You might have come from princely stock by the
-look of you. You haven’t the seeming of the drab.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Perhaps I did; but it was the inbred collapsed
-finish of the good stock. My father idled backward
-to the slums—my mother was gentle, but that was all.
-He was dead before I could remember. Oh, that dreadful
-back-street life! You can’t understand. We were
-only a little removed from the gossipy-doorstep folk
-who talk of a neighbour’s confinement as they lean on
-the rickety railings. We played with their children,
-my sister and I, bought from their horrid mean shops—went
-to the same wretched school. Oh! how I hated
-it all—the miserable rooms, the bargaining for food, the
-squabbles, and the never-ending economy and thrift.
-Grey—grey—grey! I used to lash a purple whiptop
-at the corner of the street, and pray sometimes a great
-chariot of fire would snatch me up into the skies.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was Wynne’s habit to ignore central ideas in
-another’s conversation, hence the question:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why a <span class='it'>purple</span> top?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I hardly know—but it was <span class='it'>always</span> purple. I kept a
-patch of purple on my horizon.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He looked at her queerly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What do you mean by that?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The Royal Purple. Somehow it stands out as the
-colour which rises above all sordidness. Can’t explain
-it otherwise.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He nodded. “I know what you mean. Strange you
-should feel like that, too.” The “too” was scarcely
-audible.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“When I was ever so little I had that feeling, and
-it has grown up with me. I used to believe that a purple
-goodness lined the great clouds above and the hilltops
-of my imagination. I could travel in my imagination,
-too. Just close my eyes and say to myself: Now the
-world is falling away, and I’m floating upwards, and I
-would pass above all the slates and see down all the
-chimneys until the houses became cities, and the cities
-grey marks on the green earth—and the rivers twisted
-silver wires which curled from the mountains to the
-sea.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You should meet Uncle Clem,” said Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Who is he?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A man who thinks that way. But what is it like
-up there in the clouds?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do you know, strangely, it isn’t very different—only
-fuller. Just as if one went up discontented and
-found contentment in what one had left behind. I
-used to think this was because my imagination couldn’t
-picture a better state, but I believe that no longer.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The climb is for nothing, then?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, no, for the climb proves that what you sought
-is the best of what you left behind.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“H’m! Sometimes,” he said. “You have queer
-notions. Have you found out what is the best of your
-possessions?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know them by heart, yet.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why by heart?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I am a woman.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, and sometimes, I think, just like any other.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I am.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Once I tried to define my motives—can you define
-yours?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I want a place in the sun—want it tremendously.
-I want to be able to think and feel and move among
-lovely things and people. I have given away twenty
-years to sordidness, and all I have earned is appreciation
-of the beautiful. I want to live the beautiful now,
-and rise above the trivial bother of a washpail and a
-gas-ring.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Mammon, Mammon,” cried Wynne, for want of a
-better thought.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh no. Don’t think I crave for money, for it isn’t
-so; but one must have money if one is never to think
-of it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Isn’t half the sorrow in the world traceable to
-such little causes as an extra halfpenny on a quartern
-of bread?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not untrue,” Wynne nodded. His eyes fell on
-the dirty gas-ring of the grate, and he frowned. “Why
-do you come here, then?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t you know?” she replied.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. It’s squalid enough!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then it is because you are the first real person I
-have ever met outside the cover of a book.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I give you something, then?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A great deal.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A modesty seized him, touched with self-reproach.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Only because it pleases me,” he said, brusquely.
-“The giving is done by you. That much I realize.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m glad—and I’m glad to give.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, a woman’s life is to give—that’s natural law—the
-only kind of law worth accepting.” He hesitated—then,
-“Are you satisfied to give?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She smiled her wise, intricate smile, and he did not
-wait for the answer.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You never smile as you should,” he reproached.
-“Yours is a thinking smile—perplexing. Do you never
-smile or laugh from sheer happiness?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Perhaps I have never yet been sheerly happy.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What would make you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I haven’t found out.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But I want to know. If you smiled for me you
-would seem less remote.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Am I remote?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes—remote is the word.” He looked at her
-fixedly, then shook himself and began to pace up and
-down the room. When next he spoke his voice was
-querulous and irritable:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I should have been working all this while. The
-train of my thoughts is all upset—disordered. It is unlike
-you to disturb me. I’ve lost an hour. Tomorrow
-I must work all day—alone.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Go back to yourself,” she said, gently.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She did not leave at once, but half an hour later
-he looked up and saw she was buttoning her coat.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You needn’t go.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I had better,” she said; and at the door—“I come
-here too often, perhaps. It is selfish of me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But I like you to be here—I want you here. I
-meant nothing—only I’m a little keyed up and
-worried. I don’t know why.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s all right,” said Eve. “Just for tomorrow I’ll
-stay away.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You want to?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No; but it is good sometimes to do what one doesn’t
-want. G’bye.” And she was gone.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>That night, as he lay in bed, the same feeling of
-self-reproach which had sprung into being for an instant
-during their talk came back to him heavily.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What do I do for her? Nothing.”</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>IV</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The thought awoke with him next day, and seemed
-to write itself across the pages of his manuscript. He
-could not concentrate, and the ink on his dipped pen
-dried times without number, and not a line was committed
-to the paper. The hour for their united meal
-came, and with it a feeling of loneliness and disappointment.
-He made no attempt to set the table for
-himself, but sat staring dully at the criss-cross lines
-of the window transoms, fiddling aimlessly with the
-books and papers before him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Once he thought he would go out, but changed his
-mind, and threw his hat aside before he had reached
-the door of the room. He tried to read, but the words
-were meaningless and confused, and conveyed nothing
-to his mind, so he dropped the book to the floor and
-fell back to the fruitless staring again. The words she
-had spoken about her childhood recurred, and with the
-startling reproductive faculty which he possessed he
-was able to picture it all very vividly. He could almost
-visualize the cheap short dress she would have
-worn when, years before, she lashed her purple top
-at the corner of that grey side street. The houses there
-would have narrow and worn steps leading down to
-the pavement; they would have mean areas, and windows
-repaired with gelatine lozenges. One of the lodgers
-would boast a row of geranium pots on the window-sill,
-stayed from falling by a slack string. No flowers
-would bloom in those pots—a few atrophied leaves on
-a brown stalk would be the only reward of the desultory
-waterings. In the yards at the back queer, shapeless
-garments would flap and fill upon a line, and gaunt
-cats would creep along the sooty walls. There would
-be querulous voices somewhere raised in argument or
-rebuke, and the shrill cries of children at unfriendly
-games. On Sundays vulgar youths with button-holes
-would loaf by the letter-box at the street corner, making
-eyes and blowing coarse kisses to the giggling girls
-who warily congregated on the far side. At times
-there would be chasings, slaps, and rough-and-tumble
-courtships. Old men without coats would blink and
-smoke complacently on the doorsteps, and women
-would nod and whisper of their misfortunes and their
-fears.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“She came from there—untouched by it all,”
-thought Wynne. “She deserves her place in the sun.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A strange restlessness seized him, and he started to
-pace up and down.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>V</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne arrived at the theatre earlier than usual that
-night, and met Eve in one of the corridors.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He shook his head. “I haven’t worked all day—I
-couldn’t.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m sorry. What have you done?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Walked about—and thought.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Of what?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Of you mostly.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Have you? I’m glad. I wanted you to think of
-me today.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why today?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s my birthday.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She nodded.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How old?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Twenty-one.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Twenty-one!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It seemed rather sad. Twenty-one is a great birthday.
-Had she been an earl’s daughter there would
-have been laughter and dancing in the hall that night—white
-flowers and scarlet in happy clusters everywhere.
-There would have been pearls from her father,
-and a dream dress to wear. Wax candles would have
-glittered the silver on the board, and pink-coated huntsmen
-would have led her to the dance.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It seemed rather sad she should be walking-on in a
-crowd to earn three shillings and sixpence. And with
-this reflection there came to Wynne an idea—one of
-the first that did not actually concern himself. It
-smote him gloriously, and sent a pulsation of delight
-throbbing through his veins. But all he said was:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You will come to the rooms after the play?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She hesitated. “I said I would not.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But it’s your birthday.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then, if I shan’t disturb you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Even if you do, I want you to come.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Very well. Will you wait for me?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. Follow me round. I’ve something to do first.
-Here, take a key and keep it if you will. I give you
-the freedom of the rooms.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I wish you’d wait,” she said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sorry,” he replied, shaking his head.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“After all, a birthday means very little to a man,”
-thought Eve. Yet she was disappointed he had refused
-so small a service.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>When his scene was over, Wynne dressed quickly
-and hurried from the theatre. In his pocket was a
-sum of six shillings and threepence. He counted it
-by touch as he walked down Maiden Lane and struck
-across Covent Garden. Before a modest wine shop
-in Endell Street he stopped and considered. In the
-window was a pyramid of champagne bottles, the base
-composed of magnums, the first tier of quarts, the
-second of pints, and, resting proudly on top, a single
-half-pint. Each size was carefully priced, even the
-tiny bottle showing a ticket on which was printed,
-“Two shillings and eightpence.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne squared his shoulders and entered the shop
-with an air of some importance.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This Dry Royal,” he said, “is it a wine you can
-recommend?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is a very drinkable wine,” replied the merchant.
-“Of course it does not compare⁠—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But Wynne interrupted with:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll take one of the half-pints to sample.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I have no half-pints.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There is one in the window.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is not for sale.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why not?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There is no demand for that size.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I am supplying the demand.” His tone was irritatingly
-precise, and the merchant was offended.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I regret, sir, I cannot undertake to spoil my window
-dressing for so small an order.” He spoke with finality
-that could not be misconstrued.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good God!” exclaimed Wynne. “You call it a
-small order? It is nearly half of all I possess. Am
-I to be cheated of a celebration for the sake of your
-damned ideas of symmetry?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>His very genuine concern excited interest.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I should be very sorry to cheat you of anything,”
-came the answer in a more kindly voice. “Perhaps if
-you would explain⁠—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What explanation is needed? Why does any one
-buy champagne except to celebrate an event? Must
-I sacrifice the desire to please and the hope of giving
-a sparkle of happiness because your hide-bound conventions
-won’t let you knock the top off a triangle? Is
-the expression of a kindly wish to be nullified because
-my worldly wealth won’t run to a pint? Would you
-decline to serve a rich man with a quart because you
-stock magnums? There’s no damned sense of justice
-in it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It so happened there were warm springs in the heart
-of the little Endell Street wine merchant—and imagination
-too. As he listened to this intemperate outburst
-he pictured very vividly the event which the small
-gold-braided bottle was destined to enliven. A man
-does not spend half his belongings for no purpose, and
-accordingly he said:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I never wish to disappoint a customer, sir. If you
-would accept a pint for the price of the half, you would
-be doing me a service.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But the rancour had not abated, and Wynne replied:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This is a celebration—not a damned charity.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I see—of course not. Please forgive me,” said the
-little man, and opening a panelled door he took the
-tiny bottle from the top of the pyramid and wrapped
-it up.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne placed two shillings and eightpence on the
-counter, pocketed the parcel, and walked to the door.
-Arrived there, he turned and came back with an outstretched
-hand.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re a good sort,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thank you, sir, and a very merry evening.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They shook hands warmly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At a very special fruiterer’s in Southampton Row
-Wynne bought a quarter of a pound of hothouse grapes,
-and argued fiercely with the shop assistant who did
-not consider the purchase warranted placing the fruit
-on vine leaves in a basket. He next made his way to a
-confectioner’s, and forced an entrance as they were
-putting up the shutters. Here he had a windfall, and
-secured a small but beautifully iced cake for a shilling,
-on the double account of the lateness of the hour and
-a slight crack in the icing.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>On the pavement outside he counted what remained
-of his original capital.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“One and tenpence—good!” he remarked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The red and green lights of a chemist lured him to
-enter, and he emerged, after a period of exquisite indecision,
-with two elegant packages—one containing a
-tablet of soap, and the other a tiny bottle of perfume.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Carrying his treasures with prodigious care he hastened
-toward his rooms, but had hardly covered half
-the distance when an appalling thought occurred to him.
-Under the weight of it he stopped short, and beat his
-forehead with a closed fist.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ve forgotten the candles,” he gasped. “The fairy
-candles—the twenty-one candles!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Without those twenty-one candles the whole affair
-would be flat and meaningless. In being able to obtain
-them reposed the success of the scheme. He tried
-an oilshop, but without success—he tried another with
-the same result.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“My God!” he exclaimed in an ecstasy of anxiety,
-“where can I get the things?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>And the good angel who listens for such prayers
-heard, and sent toward him a small boy of pleasing
-exterior who whistled gaily.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say,” said Wynne, “ever had a Christmas-tree?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The boy grinned and nodded.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“One with candles on it, I mean—coloured candles?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yus, it was a proper tree.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I want some candles—want ’em tremendously.
-Know where I could get some?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Appealed to as a specialist, the urchin adopted a
-professional mien, and paused for consideration. Eventually
-he said:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Dad got ours at Dawes’s, rahnd the street. She’s
-still got some, ’cos my mate, Joe, bought one for his
-bull’s-eye.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Round which street?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Over there.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne waited for no more, and broke into a run.
-By a kindly Providence Mrs. Dawes had not put up
-the shutters, being a lady who traded sweets to little
-voyagers whose parents were not over particular as to
-the hours they kept.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I dessay I could lay my ’and on a few,” she replied
-to Wynne’s fervent appeal, “though it isn’t the season
-for them, you understand.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>With that she opened, or rattled, an incredible number
-of wrong boxes, taken from beneath the counter. The
-sweat had beaded Wynne’s forehead when at last she
-discovered what she had been seeking. She did not
-appear to be in any hurry, and conversed on technical
-subjects during the search.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There isn’t the sale for coloured candles that there
-used to be. Of course you may say as it is more the
-peg-top season, and that might account for it; but it
-doesn’t—not altogether, that is. Putting the Christmas
-trade on one side, boys don’t go for bull’s-eye
-lanterns as once they did—no, nor Chinese neither. It’s
-all iron ’oops, or roller skates nowadays, as you may
-say. Why, I dessay I sell as much as ten or a dozen
-’oops a week.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do you indeed?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Quite that. Let’s see! Candles! Ah, I think this
-is them.” And it was.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thank God!” exclaimed Wynne. “I want twenty-one.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He watched in an agony of suspense as she turned
-out precisely that number.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Five a penny,” she said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Lord!” he gasped. “I’ve only fourpence.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You can pay me the odd farthing when you are
-passing.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Greatly to the good lady’s surprise the extraordinary
-young man leant across the counter and planted a kiss
-upon her ample cheek, then seizing his purchases raced
-from the shop and scuttled down the street.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well I never!” she exclaimed—“must be a bit
-mad.” But nevertheless she rubbed the spot where the
-kiss had fallen with a kindly touch.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>VI</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Probably for the first time in his life Wynne felt
-the need of fine linen. It is a sorry happening to lay
-choice dishes on a bare board. A flash of memory provided
-an alternative, and he unearthed a roll of white
-wallpaper from a cupboard. Mindful of a trick performed
-by small boys at gallery doors, he folded and
-tore the paper to a rough presentment of a lace cloth.
-Quite imposing it looked upon the black surface of the
-old oak table.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>To the rim of a fine, but much-riveted blue-and-white
-plate he waxed the twenty-one candles, and in the
-centre, pedestalled upon an inverted soap-dish, he stood
-the birthday cake. The champagne and some glasses
-were placed on one side of this setpiece, the grapes on
-the other, while before it, squarely and precisely laid,
-were the two beautifully tied parcels of soap and scent.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>So wrapped up was he in the exquisite pleasure of
-his preparations that he was quite insensible to the
-deliberate symmetry he had brought about—a circumstance
-which may prove a great deal, or nothing at all.
-When he had done he fell back and surveyed his handiwork
-as an artist before a masterpiece.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>And outside rumbled the voices of the clocks saying
-the hour was eleven.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Eleven! She will be here in a moment,” he thought.
-A sudden nervousness seized him. He did not know
-why or what it was about. He touched his pocket to
-be sure the matches were there. He wondered if she
-were all right, and had crossed Long Acre and Oxford
-Street safely—they were busiest in theatre traffic at
-that hour, and private cars and taxis paid little heed
-to pedestrians. It would be so easy for her to be knocked
-down and run over. He could picture the curious,
-jostling crowds that would gather round, the blue helmets
-of the police in the centre—and the gaunt ambulance
-which would appear from nowhere.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“God! What a fool I am,” he exclaimed. “She’s
-all right—of course she is.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Yet, despite this guarantee of her safety, thoughts
-of possible disaster raced across his mind. Memory
-of his visit to the Morgue in Paris arose and would
-not be banished. He recalled what he had said that
-day: “Death is so horribly conclusive.” Conclusive!
-Suppose it were visited upon her?—something would
-die in him, too. He asked himself what that something
-would be, but could find no answer. It would
-be something so lately come to life that he did not
-know it well enough to name.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Once more his eyes fell upon the table, and the
-fears vanished. Of course she would come—of course
-nothing would happen to her. Even though it were
-against her will, she would be drawn by what he had
-prepared.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He blew out the lamp, and crossing the room opened
-the window and leant over the sill to wait.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was a sweet night, starred and silent. Smoke rose
-ghostily from the silhouetted stacks, and a faint, murmurous
-wind, which seemed to have stolen from a
-Devon lane, touched his hair to movement. North,
-south, east, and west stretched the roofs of London, and
-in imagination he could hear the soft rustle as the
-dwellers beneath tucked themselves in for the night.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A hundred times before he had leant out, as now,
-with thoughts which ran on the groundlings who ate
-and slept and worked and squabbled beneath that army
-of stacks and slates; and how, one day, his name should
-come to be as familiar with them as the pictures hanging
-on their walls. But tonight his feelings were different.
-He conceived these people in their relation to
-each other and not to himself. In each and all those
-myriad abiding-places there would be folk with gentle
-thoughts and kindly desires, even as his were then.
-They would be linked together by the common tie of
-doing something to please. Never before had it occurred
-to him that in pleasing another happiness was born
-in oneself. Hitherto he had only thought to please
-by the nimbleness of his artistry—the perfection of
-a style, the ability to express; but now he saw the surer
-way was to appeal to the heart—to minister to the
-true sentiment—to hand over sincerity from one’s simple
-best.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A footfall below, and the glimpse of a grey figure
-in the light of the street-lamp, brought him to immediate
-action. He drew back from the window, and,
-trembling with excitement, put a match to the circle
-of coloured candles.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A ring of fire leapt into being—a tiny flame for every
-year of her in whose honour they were burnt in offering.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Standing behind the lights, and almost invisible in
-the twinkling glare, Wynne waited breathlessly for the
-door to open.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She was drawing off her gloves as she came into the
-room, but she stopped, and her hands fell gently to
-her sides. Her eyes rested on every detail of the little
-scene, hovering over it with an exquisite increase of
-lustre. And slowly her lips broke into a smile of the
-purest child-happiness, as, with a little catch in her
-voice, she breathed:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How lovely and dear of you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was hard to find a reply.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re pleased?” he said. “I’m glad.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Pleased! Look! there are two presents for me—real
-champagne, with its livery all bright and goldy—and
-the bloom on the grapes, it’s—that’s a proper
-birthday cake, with ‘marzi’ inside—and twenty-one
-candles because I am twenty-one years old today.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She held out her hand, and he came to her and took
-it in one of his. For quite a while they stood in
-silence.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This is my first real birthday, and you’ve thought
-of it all for me. Oh, it is wonderful, you know.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You have done something more wonderful for me,”
-he said, in a voice that seemed unlike his own.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You smiled for me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Because you made me utterly happy.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“D’you think—I could—go on making you happy?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>For the first time she raised her eyes from the fairy
-candles to meet his.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do you want to?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>His reply was characteristic.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes—for I am happier now than I have ever been.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She laughed understandingly, and caressed his hand.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, here!” he said. “Sit down, I want to talk.”
-He almost thrust her into the chair and settled himself
-upon the arm. “All of a sudden you have become
-something that I want—must have. Spiritually I want
-you near me—you’re—you’re essential. Without you
-I am incomplete. If I lost you I should lose more than
-you—far more. D’you understand?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, I understand.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Together we could reach any heights, you and I,
-for you give me the atmosphere I need—the right
-essence. I used to believe the line, ‘He travels fastest
-who travels alone,’ but now I scout it—it’s lost its
-truth for me. I believe you are wrapped up in my
-happiness and my success; I believe without you they
-would be in jeopardy—in danger. D’you care for me
-well enough to take me on those terms?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Very slowly she replied:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I want you to have your happiness, Wynne, and
-your success—I want that to be a true dream.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then—?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll accept your spiritual offer—and give you all
-in return. But won’t you say just one thing more?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What have I left unsaid?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Did you say you loved me?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” he replied; “but, in God’s name, I believe I
-do.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“My dear,” she said, with a mother’s voice.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He broke away from her and started to pace the room
-feverishly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come back,” she pleaded. “I am so proud of that
-belief.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He threw up his head.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I was honest enough to offer all I possessed,” he
-cried. “A man would have taken you in his arms.
-God! I’m only half a man—a starveling—! You are
-beautiful—beautiful to me—beautiful—subtle—desirable—but
-I haven’t a shred of passion in my half-starved
-body.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yours is the better half, dear. The spirit counts,
-and the greatest possession a woman can have is all that
-her man can give. Let us keep our spirits bright together.”
-She rose, and he came toward her, and suddenly
-his face lost its tragic look, and the lines at the
-corners of his mouth pulled down in a whimsical smile.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What a triumph for Plato!” he said. “When shall
-it be?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She smiled back at him. “Whenever you wish.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Very delicious she looked in the dancing fairy light.
-A strangely new and elemental impulse seized him, and
-he gripped her shoulders fiercely.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You are wonderful,” he said. “We’ll work together
-for the Day. The Day shall be our <span class='it'>real</span> wedding;
-till then—partners.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Partners.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You shall help to make a success, and—a man; and
-when I’m a man I shall seek a man’s reward. We’ll
-pledge that! Come, let’s feast before the candles burn
-low.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The tiny bottle of champagne popped bravely, and the
-wine tinkled against the glass.</p>
-
-<div><span class='pageno' title='241' id='Page_241'></span><h1>PART SIX<br/> <span class='sub-head'>“HE TRAVELS FASTEST—</span></h1></div>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>I</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They were on their way to the registrar’s when
-Wynne stopped short and exclaimed, “Of
-course!” Then, in answer to an arched-brow
-inquiry from Eve: “Would you like to meet some one
-nice?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I have,” she smiled, for it was their wedding day,
-and future wives and husbands say pleasant things to
-each other on their wedding days, even though sometimes
-they forget to do so afterwards.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A man—in fact, an uncle of mine.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Uncle Clem?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. How did you know?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Guessed.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Have I spoken of him?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Once.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I want you to meet him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then I do too.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t know where he lives though.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let’s try a telephone directory.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They did—and successfully.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He would live in Kensington Square,” said Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Have you never been to see him before?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne shook his head.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But why not?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Did you never have that feeling of wanting to keep
-something back? How can I explain? If you are
-thirsty and at last you are within reach of a drink, have
-you never waited awhile instead of snatching it to your
-lips?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I know.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then that’s why. Only here and there has he entered
-my life, and somehow each time I felt the better
-for him. I’m not a very grateful individual, but I’m
-grateful to Uncle Clem—and I’m grateful <span class='it'>for</span> Uncle
-Clem, too. He sees things very agreeably. When I was
-a child I thought him a god—and I haven’t altogether
-outgrown that feeling.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then why do you avoid him?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“When one goes before the Presence one likes to have
-something to show.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I see.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He touched her hand lightly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Today I have something to show.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They climbed to the top of a bright red ’bus and
-journeyed to Kensington. At the church they descended,
-and dipped into the little side street which leads
-to the Queen Anne houses of Kensington Square.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There was a copper knocker on the door of Uncle
-Clem’s abode, with which Wynne very bravely tattooed
-his arrival.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, Mr. Rendall is in,” admitted the manservant
-who answered the summons. “Was he expecting you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Heavens! no,” said Wynne. “I’m his nephew—but
-let him find out for himself. We shouldn’t pocket the
-spoons if you invited us to come inside.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The man smiled. “I recognize the relationship in
-your speech, sir.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He opened the door of a white-panelled room, and,
-when they had entered, mounted the stairs to inform his
-master.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good, isn’t it?” said Wynne, his eyes roaming over
-the comfortable disorder and beautiful appointments.
-“Everything right. Hullo!” He halted abruptly before
-a large framed canvas on one of the walls, “The
-Faun and the Villagers.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He was standing so when the door opened, and Uncle
-Clem, dressed in quilted smoking jacket and a pair of
-ultra vermilion slippers, came in. He paused a moment,
-then out rang his voice:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ha! The young fellow! Ain’t dead, then? Let’s
-look at you!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne met the full smack of the descending hand in
-his open palm.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” he laughed. “Look here, instead,” and
-pivoted Uncle Clem so that Eve came in his line of sight.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Splendid!” said Clem, moving to meet her. “Used
-to tell him he’d do no good until he fell in love. May
-I kiss her?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t ask me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, may I?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Um!” said Eve.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>And he did, saying thereafter:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“First rate! I like it immensely. Sit down—take
-off your hat, or whatever you do to feel at home. That’s
-the way. Now let’s hear all about it. Are you married—or
-going to be? I see—going to be—no ring. Splendid!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Here’s the ring,” said Wynne. “It will be worn
-for the first time today.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Today! Today the best day in all the year! And
-you came to see me on the way to the church. Fine!
-Y’know, there is something in ’im after all, even though
-he’s devilish sporadic in coming to see me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s saving you up for the good time ahead,” said
-Eve; “and I can see why, now.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then give up seeing why, little lady. What’s your
-name, by the way? What is her name, young fellar?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Eve.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Eve—couldn’t be better. What was I saying? Ah,
-yes. Give up seeing <span class='it'>why</span> and come and see <span class='it'>me</span> instead.
-Rotten policy to save! (never saved a penny in my
-life). Fatal to save! Find out, when it’s too late,
-don’t want what you’ve been saving for—outgrown
-your impulses. Buried with your bankbook, and every
-one glad you’re dead. No—no. Spend while you are
-young. Get a hold on all the friendship and all the
-love within reach—and then, why then, when you’re
-old, at least memories will be yours as comforters.
-You agree, don’t you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, I agree,” said Eve.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And what about you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“All or nothing,” replied Wynne. “And I had
-rather keep the ‘nothing’ till I can claim the ‘all.’ ”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good stars!” exclaimed Clem. “What a speech for
-a wedding day!” Then, catching a glimpse of the
-growing colour on Eve’s cheeks:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t heed me, my dear. I’ve a reputation for
-saying things which, in the vernacular, I didn’t ought.
-But a man who speaks of nothing on his wedding
-day—?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne hesitated, then:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This isn’t altogether our wedding day,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Eh?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Today she and I are becoming—legalized partners.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What the devil are you talking about?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Partners. We shall join forces, she and I, and
-work together for success—think of, live for, and concentrate
-on that goal. Afterwards we⁠—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But Uncle Clem would not let him finish.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Rank folly!” he cried, jumping to his feet.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’ve read your Plato!” said Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Plato be damned! Well enough for an old philosopher
-to mumble his repressive theories from a dead
-log in the market-place—but for you at twenty-what-ever-it-may-be,
-tss—madness—rot—folly! My dear,
-dear girl, for God’s sake, tell him not to talk such utter
-damn nonsense.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You haven’t quite understood,” said Eve, very
-gently.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He speaks of success and denies love—he places
-success before love. Doesn’t he know—? Here! don’t
-you know,” twisting suddenly round, “that love is
-the only success worth having—that success is only
-possible through love?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Love is the reward,” said Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is not. It is no more the reward than rain is a
-reward to the ground, or air is a reward to the lungs.
-Love is a necessity—a primary necessity—and the fountain
-of all inspiration. If you can’t realize that, don’t
-marry—you have no right to marry. Don’t marry him,
-my dear. Keep away from him till he comes to his
-proper senses.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I think we have a greater knowledge,” said Wynne,
-moving to Eve’s side.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And I think you have no knowledge whatsoever—that
-you are throttling it at the main. Partners!”
-he threw up his head. “Oh, can’t you see what partners
-means—what it amounts to in practice? A staling
-of each other for each other—that’s all. A mutual
-day-by-day loss of conceit and regard. You can see
-it in the City, or wherever you choose to look. Listen
-to what any man says of his partner: ‘He’s all right,
-but getting old—losing his grip—isn’t the man he was,’
-so on and so forth. And why is it? Because they have
-no closer tie than their signatures on a piece of paper.
-Nature admits of no lasting partnership between man
-and woman save one—love.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Even that partnership is sometimes dissolved.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“By fools, yes, and by the blind, but not by those
-who can see. Knowledge is the keystone which holds
-up the archway of heaven, my boy—knowledge which
-has sprung from love. I may be no more than a talkative
-old bachelor, but, by God! I know that to be true.
-There are few enough spirits on this earthy old world
-of ours, and only through love comes the power to know
-them each by name.” He stopped and fiddled with
-a pipe on the mantelshelf. “This is a disappointment
-to me—a big disappointment. I’d looked to you young
-folk to open your hearts and tell me what was inside,
-and, instead, I’ve done all the talking, and told you
-what I think they ought to contain, and perhaps
-offended you both into the bargain.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, you haven’t,” said Eve. “I like you for
-it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“If I were offended,” said Wynne, “I should not
-ask you to come to the wedding—and I do.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Uncle Clem shook his head slowly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not I,” he said. “I’m an idealist—not a business
-man. I’d as soon watch a stockbroker signing
-scrip.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>On the doorstep, a few moments later, he touched
-Eve’s arm and whispered:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Run away—don’t do it—run away.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She shook her head. “I love him,” she said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In silence she and Wynne walked to the High Street
-and turned into Kensington Gardens.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s losing his grip—not the man he was—getting
-old,” quoted Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And yet,” she answered, “he is younger than we
-are.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They fell upon a second silence, then very suddenly
-Wynne said:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Are you unhappy?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Are you doubtful?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You do believe in me?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s—it’s not much of a wedding for you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There’s all the future.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. He was wrong, of course.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“If the future is to be ours.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It shall be ours. What’s it matter if we grope
-along the flats if at last we jump to the mountain top
-together?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I put all my faith in that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You shall never regret it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She hung close upon his arm. “No, you won’t let
-me regret it, will you? You won’t <span class='it'>ever</span> let me regret
-it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ’Course not.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I want to know, when you make that leap to the
-mountain top, that my arm will be through yours
-as it is now.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It will be then. I shall want to show my treasures
-to the world,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Her mouth broke into a smile.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nothing else matters,” she said.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>II</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A registrar is not, as a rule, an enlivening person.
-He is a dealer in extremities—to him a birth or a death
-is merely a matter of so many words written upon a
-page, and a marriage is no greater affair than a union
-of two people brought together for the purpose of providing
-him with subjects for his more serious offices.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The particular registrar who was responsible for making
-Wynne and Eve man and wife was no exception to
-the rule. He proved to be a man of boundless melancholy,
-who recited the necessary passages with a gloom
-of intonation better befitting a burial than a bridal. His
-distress was acute in that they had failed to import
-the required witnesses—and, indeed, at one time he
-seemed disposed to deny them the privileges of his
-powers. The apartment in which the ceremony took
-place smelt disagreeably from lack of ventilation, and
-the newly-wed pair were thankful to come into the
-sunshine of the street outside.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>So great was the oppression produced that neither
-one nor the other felt capable of saying a word, and
-it was only by a mighty effort Wynne was able to say:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We’re married.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Eve pressed his hand, and nodded.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Rather beastly, wasn’t it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She nodded again.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Doesn’t seem very real, does it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>And she replied, “Would you kiss me just to make
-it seem more real?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Rather awkwardly he stooped and brushed her cheek
-with a kiss.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Better?” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A bit.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He began to speak rather fast:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“After all, what’s it matter? This is only the beginning.
-We’ll count today as any other day—a working
-day. I’m no more to you—or you to me—beyond
-the sharing of a single name and a single roof. We
-won’t spoil our future by any foretaste of its good.
-Do you agree?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I agree.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then shake hands, partner.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“God bless you and let you win,” said Eve, as she
-laid her hand on his.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>By the doors of the British Museum they nodded a
-temporary farewell. He entered and made his way to
-the reading-room, and she walked home alone.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>III</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The moonlight streamed through the slanting window,
-pitching a dim ray upon Wynne as he lay asleep.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was dark in the lonely corner, on the far side
-of the room, where, very faintly, the outline of a slim
-white figure could be seen—a figure hugging her knees
-and resting her chin upon them. Very quiet it was—just
-the rise and fall of a man’s breathing and the
-muted, humming noises of the night.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The clocks of the City coughed and jarred the hour
-of three.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Presently the still white figure moved, and, bare-footed,
-crossed the floor between the two beds. For
-a little while she stood looking down upon the sleeping
-man; then, in answer to a human impulse too
-gentle, and yet too strong to be denied, stooped and
-laid her head beside his upon the pillow. Her breath
-was warm upon his cheek, but he made no movement;
-her hair tressed upon his arm, but it did not quicken
-to life and fold around her, as a husband’s might;
-her lips were almost touching his, but he did not move
-that they might meet in the darkness.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>With a little catch in her throat Eve lifted herself
-and crossed to the lonely shadows beneath the sloping
-roof.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>IV</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“May I read these?” asked Eve.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She had unearthed a box full of old manuscripts he
-had written and cast aside.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Burn ’em, if you like,” he replied.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She chose one from the pile, saying:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Have they been sent anywhere?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh yes, a few have been the round. They are true
-to the boomerang type, for they always returned to the
-point of departure.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She curled herself in the big armchair and began
-to read. The breakfast things had been washed up,
-the beds made, and the rooms tidied.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was an article she had chosen, and the subject
-was “Education.” Wynne had a singularly marked
-style of his own—his sentences were crisp and incisive,
-his views original and striking. When he chose he
-could write with a degree of tenderness that was infinitely
-appealing; but in odd contrast to this mood, and
-usually in immediate proximity to his most happy
-expressed phrases, occurred passages of satire and mordant
-wit which detracted immeasurably from the charm
-of the whole. They stood out like blots upon the page.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The same conditions prevailed in each of the other
-manuscripts which Eve read, with the result that the
-fine susceptibilities which had been awakened by his
-best, were wounded by the ill-humour of his worst.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why do you give all the butterflies stings?” she
-asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The question pleased him, and he smiled.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why not? Aren’t they mostly well deserved?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“By whom?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The public.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She had it in mind to say that it was not the public
-who felt the sting, but, instead, she replied:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“May I copy these out?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“If you like.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She did, and, with certain reservations and omissions,
-dispatched them to the kind of periodical which
-might be interested.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Three weeks later a letter arrived from <span class='it'>The Forum</span>
-accepting the essay on Education. “Payment of ten
-guineas will be made on publication,” said the letter.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But they refused it before!” exclaimed Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I made a few cuts, and altered it a little.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>His forehead flew into straight creases.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where? What did you cut?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She showed him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He shook his head and paced up and down the room.
-“Heavens above!” he reproached. “Those were the
-best passages.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They weren’t. They were bad, and destructive.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Revolutionary, if you like.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The wrong sort of revolution.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not at all. I wrote them with a purpose.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then the purpose was wrong.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thank God you cut them and not I. I should
-esteem myself a coward if I had done that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t. You will never heal by throwing vitriol.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne’s tenacity was tremendous, and he fought
-for every inch of ground before conceding it. The
-lesson, however, did him good, and thereafter, if not
-always with the best grace, he submitted his writings
-to her for approval.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Eve had a very sure literary sense, and her criticisms
-were as just as they were courageous. Wynne
-could never gauge to what extent a reader will allow
-the scourge of wit to fall upon his shoulders, but Eve,
-by some peculiar insight of her own, knew this to a
-nicety, and little by little forced him to her way of
-seeing.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As his writings began to be accepted he came to
-a silent acknowledgment of the value of her decisions,
-and, subconsciously, his mind, in certain directions,
-ran parallel with hers. By his sharp acquisitive
-sense he came to know how she arrived at her reasoning,
-and in learning this, the necessity to appeal to
-her diminished correspondingly. Once an idea was
-firmly implanted it became a part of his being, and
-very soon his pen lost its jagged edge and ran more
-smoothly over the pages.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>For nearly a year the partners worked together,
-each in their separate spheres, to the common end of
-success.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>That his mind might go free and unworried wheresoever
-it willed, Eve cooked and darned, and kept
-his house in order. It was a grey enough life, with
-little to raise it from the ruck of sordid domesticity.
-To all intent and purpose she was a general servant,
-privileged at rare intervals to wash her hands, sit at
-her master’s table and share his speech. Her reward
-was to hear an echo of some of her sweetness in his
-writings, and to see the results of her gentle care in
-his looks and bearing.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He had more colour, his step was springier than in
-the days before they had met, and this added vitality
-he converted into longer hours of labour. He never
-spared himself or relaxed, and his tireless energy, perseverance,
-and concentration were abnormal. Except
-when he needed her advice he appeared to be wholly
-detached, and scarcely aware of her presence. The
-cramped conditions in which they lived made it very
-difficult for Eve to conduct her household duties without
-disturbing him. He was very sensitive and exacting,
-and the sound of a rattled teacup would throw
-him out of line. Not the least of Eve’s achievement
-was the manner in which she contrived to do everything
-that was needful without disturbance, and at the
-same time to be ever ready to lay all aside in case he
-should want her.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A man will always give or find occupation for a
-woman, and in some small way or another the whole of
-Eve’s time was taken up in meeting his needs and wishes.
-She was obliged to forego many of the happy book
-hours she used to spend in order that the wheels could
-run smoothly and silently. This in itself was a very
-great sacrifice, for she had loved her reading, and grubbing
-with pots and pans, or bargaining with tradesfolk,
-was a sorry substitute.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But it’s only for a while,” she comforted herself.
-“One day—” and her thoughts floated out to the sun-lit
-hills and the sweeping purple heather of the moors.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>V</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>One evening Wynne arrived home and announced that
-he had left the stage.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I am going to write a play,” he said, “and I shall
-want all my time.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He had not taken into consideration that with the
-loss of his theatre salary their finances would be seriously
-crippled. Of late there had been rather more
-money than usual, and Eve had entertained the hope
-of engaging a maid to come in and do the rougher
-work, but with this announcement that happy prospect
-took immediate wings.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A play would certainly take several weeks to write,
-and probably months or even years to place. In the
-meantime there were three or four outstanding sales
-of stories and articles which would realize a total of
-thirty or forty pounds.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Yet, although these considerations arose very clearly
-in Eve’s mind, she only nodded and expressed enthusiasm
-for the idea.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>And so, with a great deal of energy and intention,
-Wynne attacked the play, and Eve rolled up her sleeves
-and washed the greasy plates, and blacked the stove
-and cooked the meals, and did the meagre housekeeping,
-and many things she liked not, on little more than
-nothing a week. It was strenuous work, but she carried
-it out cheerfully and unostentatiously, and contrived to
-provide enough to keep his mind from being worried
-with sordid considerations.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Sometimes—not so often as she wished—he read what
-he had written, and they talked over the human considerations
-that go to make a play. He himself was
-most enthusiastic about the work, and to a great extent
-she shared his belief. There was, however, a certain
-chilliness in his lines and expressed thoughts, which by
-the gentlest tact she strove to warm.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was a delicate enough operation in all conscience,
-for there is no machinery more difficult to guide than
-an artist’s mind, and none that demands overhaul more
-constantly. Hers was the task of tightening the bolts
-of a moving vehicle—one attended with grave risks
-to the mechanic. She took her satisfaction after the
-manner of a mechanic, by noting the smoother running
-and more even purr of the machine.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As they had determined upon their wedding day,
-the physical, and even the spiritual, side of their union
-was in abeyance. Of sweet intimacies and gentle understandings
-there were none. It was the work first, the
-work last, and the work which took precedence to all.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>For Eve it was a lonely life—a life of unceasing
-mental and manual exercise. She strove with head and
-hand that his spirit might talk with posterity.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Sometimes there were knocks, but she took them
-bravely, looking always to the future to repay.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>One morning in the early summer Wynne fretfully
-threw down his pen.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The whitey-gold sunshine was calling of bluebell
-woods and cloud shadows racing over the downs.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I must get out,” he said—“out in the fields somewhere.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Eve filled her lungs expectantly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let’s go to Richmond,” she said. “Do you remember
-the first night I came back, and we said we’d go
-there one day and eat apple turnovers on the way
-home?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, oh yes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’ud be gorgeous to have some fresh air, and we
-could make plans and⁠—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, but not today. I want to think today—I
-should be better alone.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was foolish to be hurt, and gently she answered:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I shouldn’t stop you thinking.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Some other day, then. This morning I’ll go alone.
-That last act is bothering me. I shall bring back a
-fierce hunger for you to appease.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>That was all. He reached for his hat and walked
-to the door. As he laid his hand on the knob she said:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Think of me bending over the gas-ring, Wynne.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He turned and looked queerly at her without replying.
-The angle of her speech was new and unexpected.
-Then his cleverness suggested:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I shall think of you as you’ll look when our honeymoon
-begins.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In an instant she was disarmed and had stretched
-out a friendly hand.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I wanted to be level with the future for one day,”
-she said. “Out in the fields we are as rich as we shall
-ever be.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He nodded.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The leaves would be no greener if all fame were
-ours,” he answered; and added, “but they’d seem
-greener. Come, if you like.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, I’ll stay.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She gave his hand a small pressure. He looked down
-on it as it lay in his palm. There was dirt upon her
-fingers from the scouring of pots and pans. As he
-noted this he laughed shortly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We must employ a Court manicurist when our Day
-dawns,” he said. “I could not worship a queen whose
-hands were soiled. Expect me about six.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He closed the door behind him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Who can pretend to fathom the deeps of a woman’s
-mind. Long after he had gone, Eve stood looking at
-her hands with solemn, frightened eyes.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>VI</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The manner of Wynne Rendall’s coming into prominence
-was fortuitous. It happened a little over two years
-after his marriage, and, broadly speaking, was engineered
-by Eve.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As a result of some unexpected sales to American
-publishers a few extra pounds slipped through the lodging
-letter-box, and Eve insisted he should spend some
-of these in joining a club of good standing.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’ve been in the dark too long, Wynne. A writer
-of plays must be known by the people who produce them,
-by the better actors and critics. They must get used
-to seeing you before they will believe in you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He raised no opposition to the idea. Of late he had
-felt cabined and confined, and the thought of broader
-horizons appealed to him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Uncle Clem would put you up for the Phœnician,
-wouldn’t he?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne shook his head irritably.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m not disposed to ask favours of Uncle Clem,”
-he replied.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why not?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It was evident enough he disapproved of my mode
-of life when last we met. It will be time to ask him
-to do things for me when he approves. Besides, there’s
-no need. A cousin of my mother’s is a member—I’ll
-ask him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Does he approve of your mode of life?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Probably not; but, since I have no interest in him
-one way or the other, it doesn’t matter. The man is
-rich and a fool.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I didn’t know you had a rich cousin.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It isn’t a thing to boast about. I rather believe I
-have a moderately rich father and mother somewhere—still
-it can’t be helped.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do you know,” said Eve, “you have never mentioned
-them before.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know what persuaded me to do so at all.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Tell me about them.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nothing to tell. They wanted me to accept a sound
-commercial position—whatever that may mean; in declining
-to do so I forfeited my birthright, and sacrificed
-my immortal soul to the flames.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Did you run away?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I walked away. They were too slow to render running
-a necessity.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I think you are rather callous,” said Eve.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Surely to God you don’t expect me to take off my
-hat, like a music-hall serio, when I speak of Home and
-Mother.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, that would be rather silly—still⁠—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“One must judge the value of things and persons
-on two counts—their service and their effect. If their
-service is negligible, and they produce no effect, it is
-clearly useless to have any further dealings with them.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t like that,” said Eve. “It’s a cold philosophy.
-You sponge the wine from the cellars and complain
-when the vats are empty.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t complain—I pass on. One must, or die of
-thirst.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is a false thirst.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That doesn’t matter so long as one feels it acutely.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She generally allowed him the luxury of supplying
-the phrase to round off an argument. It is a tribute
-to the gallantry of women that they will allow the
-vanquished to feel he is the victor, and as true of the
-best of them as the popular belief to the contrary is
-false.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne joined the Phœnician, and after a while came
-to spend much of his time there. It made, he said, a
-change from the never-ending sameness of their penny-threefarthing
-home.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was so long since he had foregathered with fellow-men
-that at first he spent his club hours in shy silence.
-He would sit, ostensibly reading a periodical, and actually
-listening to the conversation of those about him.
-In so doing he learnt many things in regard to the
-subjects which men will discuss one with another. The
-Phœnician was to a great extent a rabble club. The
-members were composed of professional men—artists,
-writers, actors, and those curious individuals who form
-a tail-light to the arts, being bracketed on as a kind
-of chorus. These latter always appeared to be well provided
-with money and ill provided with brains. They
-knew the names of many stage people, and reeled them
-off one after another as a parrot delivers its limited
-vocabulary. Seemingly they derived much pleasure
-from the practice, and their happiest conversational circumstance
-was to mention some one whose name they had
-never introduced before.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne made unto himself an enemy of this section
-of the rabble by a chance remark on an occasion when
-he happened to be in their midst.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I suppose,” he said, “you collect names as more
-intellectual folk collect cigar bands.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As invariably was the case he was rather pleased
-with himself for producing this remark. It suggested
-a line of thought, and shortly afterwards he produced
-an article entitled “Men and their Talk.” The article,
-which boasted a lemon wit, appeared in the <span class='it'>Monday
-Review</span>, and offended many people.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The average man,” he wrote, “has but four topics
-of conversation which he considers worthy of discussion.
-1. His relation to other men’s wives. 2. His
-prowess at sport. 3. The names of restaurants at which
-he would have us believe he dines. 4. His capacity
-for consuming liquor. Of these subjects Nos. 1 and 4
-are usually taken in conjunction. Thus, before we are
-privileged to hear the more intimate passages of his
-amours, we are obliged to follow the assuaging of his
-thirst from double cocktail to treble liqueur. A nice
-balance in self-satisfaction is proved by a man’s pride
-in what he drinks and how he loves.” Then, in another
-paragraph: “The average man is not proud of resisting
-the temptations of the flesh, but is always proud of
-yielding to them. Whenever men are gathered together
-you will hear them speak in admiration of what our
-moral code forbids, but you will not hear them boast of
-their fidelity. Many a faithful husband lies of infidelity
-that he may stand even with his fellows.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Of all the criticisms provoked by this article Wynne
-was best pleased by one from a brother member, who
-announced that it was “an infernal breach of confidence.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The club made serious inroads on Wynne’s finances,
-for no matter how abstemious a man may be, he cannot
-rub shoulders with his own kind without a certain
-amount of wear on his pocket linings. In consequence,
-Eve was obliged to cut things very fine and forego every
-atom of personal expenditure.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Possibly because he had had such small dealings with
-money, Wynne was not a generous giver. In these
-days he disbursed less toward the household account
-than ever before, but did not expect less to appear upon
-the table on this account. Neither did he expect Eve to
-appear before him in dresses which had lost all pretentions
-to attractiveness. Sometimes he would remark:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“When on earth are you going to throw away that
-dreadful old garment?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The artistic mind is apt to be unreasonable in its demands—a
-circumstance which Eve was obliged to keep
-very much before her eyes if she would stay the tear
-which sought to rise there.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>VII</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was some months before the club yielded a practical
-return.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne was seated in the hollow of a deep leather
-chair, and he overheard two men talking. One was
-Max Levis, London’s newest impresario, and the other
-Leonard Passmore, a producer of some standing, whose
-methods Wynne disapproved of very heartily.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’ve read the play?” queried Levis.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. I should say it was a certainty.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thought you would—that’s capital! Wanted your
-opinion before writing to Quiltan.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne knew Quiltan by reputation. His Oxford
-verses had caused a stir, and the rare appearances of
-his articles were hailed enthusiastically by press and
-public alike. Lane Quiltan besides being gifted, was
-exceedingly well off—a reason, perhaps, for his small
-literary output.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Max Levis played with the pages of a manuscript
-copy of the play.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Formed any views regarding the production?” he
-asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mr. Passmore had formed many views, and proceeded
-to expound them at some length. He held forth for the
-best part of half an hour, while Wynne, from the screen
-of his chair, silently scorned every word he uttered.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“God!” he thought, “and these are the men who
-cater art to the nation!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Presently the two men rose and walked toward the
-dining-room, heavy in talk. On the small table beside
-where they had sat lay the copy of the play. As the
-swing doors closed behind them Wynne picked it up and
-started to read.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Messrs. Levis and Passmore stayed long at their meat,
-and Wynne had read the play from cover to cover before
-they returned.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was not often his heart went out to a contemporary’s
-work, but this was an exception. What he read filled
-him with delight, envy, and admiration. “Witches”—for
-so the play was called—possessed the rarest quality.
-There was wit, imagination, and satire, and it was
-written with that effortless ease at which all true artists
-should aim.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As he laid the copy back on the small table Wynne
-gave vent to an exclamation of indignant resentment,
-provoked by memories of the proposals Passmore had
-made in regard to the manner in which he proposed
-to interpret the work. Here was a thing of real artistic
-beauty, which was to be subjected to commercial mutilation
-by a cross-grained fool who had made a reputation
-by massing crowds in such positions that the centre of
-the stage was clear for the principals.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>His feelings toward Mr. Passmore were not improved
-when that gentleman and Mr. Levis reoccupied their
-former chairs, and, warmed by wine, started to discuss
-their mutual follies.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>With silent irritation Wynne rose and left the club.
-He arrived home about nine o’clock, where he inveighed
-against managers and producers, and the dunces who
-dance in high places. In the course of the tirade he
-explained the cause of his anger.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There’s a real thing—and it’s good and right, and
-cram-jam full of exquisite possibilities. Those idiots
-haven’t begun to understand it—are blind to its
-beauty—haven’t a notion how good it is. In God’s
-name, why don’t they let me produce the thing?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Then Eve had an inspiration which sent Wynne forth
-into the night, and found him, twenty minutes later,
-ringing the bell of a house in Clarges Street.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Taking into consideration the clothes he wore, and
-his general look of dilapidation, his attitude when the
-door was opened by an important footman was praiseworthy
-and remarkable.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He simply said “Thank you,” and stepped into the
-hall. Then he removed his hat and gave it to the
-man, saying, “Mr. Wynne Rendall.” The bluff resulted
-in his being ushered into a drawing-room, in
-which were a number of ladies and gentlemen.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is always easy to recognize one’s host in a mixed
-gathering, provided he does not know you,” commented
-Wynne, as the door closed, “for he is the person whose
-face betrays the greatest perplexity. How do you do,
-Mr. Quiltan?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Lane Quiltan shook hands doubtfully, but not without
-interest. Out of politeness he said:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I seem to know your name.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s unlikely,” replied Wynne, “for I have been
-at some pains to keep it in the background. One of
-these days, however, you will know it very much better.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Did you come here to tell me so?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not altogether, although in a sense it is mixed up
-with my visit. To be frank, I came in the hope of
-finding you alone. Still, I suppose later on you will be.”
-He smiled engagingly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Quiltan scarcely knew whether to be annoyed or
-amused. In deference to his guests, he chose the latter
-alternative.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You seem to be an unconventional man, Mr. Rendall,”
-he laughed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come, I had not looked for a compliment so soon;
-but perhaps you use the term correctively?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is just possible, isn’t it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And yet my conduct is nothing like so unconventional
-as the central character in ‘Witches’ ”—a remark
-which startled from Lane Quiltan: “What on
-earth do you know about ‘Witches’?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne smiled agreeably.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I have relations of my own.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Doubtless, but I <span class='it'>would</span> like an answer to my question.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He did not get it, for Wynne only repeated the smile,
-with a shade more satisfaction.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I fear,” he said, “our conversation is proving very
-tiresome to your friends. Shall we talk in another
-room?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Extraordinary creature!” gasped a very splendid
-lady seated at the grand piano.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is what every one will be saying shortly,” returned
-Wynne, and won a laugh for the readiness of his
-wit.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I suppose, Lane,” assumed a man who was airing
-the tails of his dress-coat before the fire—“I suppose we
-ought to take the hint and depart, but your friend is so
-devilish amusing I vote in favour of remaining.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sir,” said Wynne, with very great solemnity, “if
-I vow to be devilish dull, will you in return vote in
-favour of going?” The laugh came his way again; and
-he proceeded, “I make the suggestion with the most
-generous motives, for if you remain with your coat-tails
-so perilously near the flame we shall be constrained to
-the inevitable necessity of putting you out.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A youngish man, who was sitting in a corner, rose
-and shook the creases from his trousers and glanced at
-the clock.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I at least have to go,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You needn’t hurry away!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne touched Quiltan on the arm. “Never stay a
-pioneer,” he implored. “ ‘For the rest shall follow
-after by the bones upon the way,’ to quote Kipling.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Ten minutes after his arrival he had cleared the room
-completely. The guests departed without apparent resentment:
-indeed, one lady gave Wynne her card, and
-said, “You positively must come and be amusing at one
-of my Thursdays.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Quiltan was wearing an expression of some annoyance
-when he returned after bidding farewell to the last
-of the company.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is all very well,” he said; “but what precisely
-do you want?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Before answering Wynne took an easy inspection
-of the man before him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Lane Quiltan was tall, well built, and very pleasant
-to look upon. His features were attractive and regular,
-his voice and expression were compelling of confidence.
-At a glance Wynne summed him up as a “good fellow,
-and a good deal more.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well?” said Quiltan.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Primarily I have succeeded in doing what I wanted,
-and that was to convince you that I am no ordinary
-man. Secondly, I want to produce your play, ‘Witches,’
-and if you will ask me to sit down for a minute I shall
-prove beyond argument why I am the only person who
-can do it justice.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Lane Quiltan gestured Wynne to a chair, and seated
-himself.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Fire away!” he said; “but I am afraid your
-chances are small. The play is already in the hands of
-Max Levis.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I know.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You seem pretty well acquainted with my affairs.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“On the contrary, I know nothing about them.
-I knew Levis had the play, because I borrowed his
-copy without permission while the fellow was feeding.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do you generally do things like that?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I have no general practices. I act as the inclination
-suggests. In this case it is fortunate for both of
-us that I did.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“For both of us?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Certainly, for I <span class='it'>mean</span> to produce ‘Witches.’ ”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Quiltan laughed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“At least you are persistent,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I am, and you are not. You take things too easily,
-because you’ve all this”—he made an embracing gesture.
-“You are too sure, Mr. Quiltan, I know. You write
-this play and direct it to Max Levis, and then, because
-fame and money are merely accessories in your life,
-you take no further interest in the matter.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How do you arrive at that conclusion?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Simply enough. Why did you send the play to
-Levis? Do you admire his work so inordinately?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I know very little about him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Exactly. Would you hand over a best child to be
-taught by some one who might be an idiot for all you
-knew? Two years ago Max Levis was a diamond buyer—what
-the devil should he know about plays?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He engages competent people to produce them.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And takes forty per cent. for doing so. Do you
-consider he is more qualified to engage competent people
-than you are?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I have never thought about it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then think about it now. Don’t spoil a fine work
-through artistic slackness and drift.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I like your enthusiasm.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’d like my production better. Now, look here,
-I overheard Levis talking to Leonard Passmore about
-your play tonight. These are some of Passmore’s ideas.
-Tell me if you like ’em.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Word for word he repeated the conversation of a
-couple of hours before.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Were those your intentions, Mr. Quiltan?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, not exactly.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What were?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m not a producer.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Of course you are not. You’re an author, and an
-author never knows where the good or bad in his own
-work lies. Your work is shining good—if the good
-can be brought out,—and you’d entrust it, without a
-thought, to a couple of merchants, with no more artistry
-or selection between ’em than a provincial auctioneer.
-Let me produce the play, and I’ll give you this⁠—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There was something dazzling in the sparkle of
-thoughts Wynne gave voice to as he discussed the possibilities
-of the play. He seemed to have grasped its
-living essence, and to have impregnated it with a spirit
-of higher worth than even the author had believed possible.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And you could do that?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I can always do as I feel.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Quiltan rose and paced the room excitedly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I believe in you,” he said. “I favour this co-operation.
-But what’d Levis say? He’d stick out for his
-own man.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good heavens! What do you want with Levis?
-Back the venture yourself.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I—but—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“God knows you’ve money enough.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I know nothing about theatres.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I know plenty.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Quiltan paused and bit his forefinger.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Take a theatre and do it ourselves?” he queried.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why not?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“By the Lord, why not indeed! It ’ud be tremendous
-fun.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It ’ud be tremendous earnest.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Either way, I’m game.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Settled, then?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, it’s settled.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne stood himself a cab from Clarges Street at
-three o’clock in the morning. He looked ten years
-younger as he burst into the room where Eve was waiting
-up for him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ve done it!” he cried. “I’ve done it! I’m on
-the road upward at last.”</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>VIII</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne was extraordinarily full of himself in the
-days which followed. Day and night he worked with
-feverish energy on schemes for the play. He went out
-and came in at all hours. In his excitement he entirely
-ignored Eve’s presence, except when he appealed to her
-on some delicate point dealing with the attitude of the
-women characters. Having secured what he wanted he
-would wave aside further discussion and plunge afresh
-into his thought-packed aloneness.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Once he jerked out the information that he was to
-receive a hundred pounds for the production and ten
-per cent. profits during the run of the piece.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ve engaged the cast and we shall arrange about
-the theatre in a day or two. Here, read that speech
-aloud—I want to hear what it sounds like in a woman’s
-voice. Yes, that’s it. Thanks! That’s all I want to
-know. You read it quite right. I believe you could
-have acted! Is there something to eat ready? I’m
-going out in ten minutes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It won’t be long.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Quick as you can, then.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As she laid the cloth, Eve ventured to say: “Don’t
-you think we might have a maid to do the grubby work?
-It would give me more time to help you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He seemed absorbed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, all right. Some day. You do everything I
-want, though.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, but—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Is that lunch ready?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Some clothes arrived for him a few days later, and
-for the first time Eve saw her husband well clad. The
-build of them gave an added manliness to his slender
-figure.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The business of taking a theatre being successfully accomplished,
-Wynne assumed instantly the guise of a
-commander-in-chief. He spoke with an air of finality
-on all subjects, and wrapped himself in a kind of remoteness
-not infrequently to be observed in actor-managers.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Oddly enough, his new importance possessed Eve with
-a desire to laugh and ruffle his hair. Had he taken himself
-less seriously she would have done so.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Once she asked if he would not like to give her a part
-in the play.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Heavens alive!” he said, “I’m pestered the day
-long with people who want engagements. Spare me
-from it at home.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was hardly a graceful speech, but it demonstrated
-his frame of mind with some accuracy. Perhaps he
-realized the remark was churlish, for he followed it with
-another:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Besides, you’ll have plenty to do. We’re going to
-get out of this. I took a flat this afternoon.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Without saying a word to me?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I said all that was needed to the agent.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yet you might have mentioned it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I was busy. After all, it only requires one person to
-take a flat. There, that’s the address. Fix up moving
-in as soon as you can.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Eve picked up the slip of paper he had dropped into
-her lap. Despite her disappointment she felt a thrill
-of excitement at the news:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How many rooms are there?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, four or five—a bedroom for each of us—I forget
-the number. Have a look at it in the morning.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We shall want carpets and some more furniture.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, but that can wait—can’t it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Take away the joy of planning from a woman and
-you rob the safe of half its treasure.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>IX</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There was no room in Wynne’s mind for further
-discussion. It was fully occupied with his great advertisement
-scheme, which, in a few days’ time, would
-fling his name upon every newspaper and hoarding in
-the metropolis. He had no intention of allowing his
-share in the production to lack prominence. The name
-Wynne Rendall was to take precedence of all other consideration
-in his campaign.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The public is to take this play through me,” he
-announced, “and me they shall have in large doses.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Eve visited the flat alone, and made what arrangements
-were needful for moving their few belongings.
-It was a sunny little flat, and with adequate appointments
-would have looked very charming. The small
-amount of furniture they possessed, however, seemed
-painfully inadequate spread over the various rooms.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>On the day of the move she worked like a galley-slave
-to put the place in agreeable order. She felt
-somehow that it was a great occasion, and that when
-Wynne returned from the theatre he would feel likewise.
-Together, perhaps, they would have a glorious
-talk about their nearing future, and a little house-warming
-of two.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But she was disappointed, for Wynne made no comment
-when he came in.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“My posters are out,” he cried. “Have you seen
-’em?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She shook her head.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I haven’t had a chance. I’ve been busy here all day
-getting straight.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She looked tired and rather grubby—her hair was
-tumbled, and her hands patched with floor-stain. For
-some reason her untidiness irritated Wynne. The girls
-at the theatre were smart and fresh, and their clothes
-were pleasant to see. A man expects his wife to be
-always at her best.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Um!” he remarked. “You look in rather a pickle.”
-His eyes wandered round the room: “Seems very bare,
-doesn’t it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It seemed bare to her, too, but she would have taken
-it kindly if he had not said so.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“With some curtains it would be better—and a few
-more chairs.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. Still, it’s the address that matters at the
-moment. The rest can wait till we see how the play
-goes. Just now I need all the money I can get for
-my own pocket. It’s essential. It’s bare and uncomfortable;
-but I have the club, so it doesn’t really
-matter.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I haven’t a club,” flashed Eve, and repented the
-words almost before she had spoken them.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne looked at her fixedly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Lord!” he exclaimed, “we are not going to start
-that sort of thing, are we?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Something in the quality of his voice struck her with
-startling force. It was so much more a “married” tone
-than she remembered to have heard before. The
-petulant child note had disappeared, and with its disappearance
-the mother note in her own voice wrapped itself
-up in sudden hardness.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She held his eyes with hers.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I bargained for a share,” she said. “Am I getting
-it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He wilted, and his head tossed from side to side.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What is all this about?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Am I getting my share?” repeated Eve, more
-kindly. “You know if I am. Answer ‘Yes,’ if you
-honestly think so.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m tired,” he countered.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not too tired to say ‘Yes.’ ”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, very well! If you want furniture and things,
-buy them. I rather thought you could see deeper than
-that. Still, if you⁠—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Stop! Don’t say any more—please don’t.” She
-pressed her hand quickly and nervously to her lips; then,
-with a half-laugh, “Oh, how silly I am; but you frightened
-me. You—you were laughing, Wynne, when you
-said that—weren’t you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He looked at her perplexed, and saw she was in deadly
-earnest.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, yes,” he answered. “I was laughing—’course
-I was.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But to tell the truth, Wynne Rendall, Master of Psychology,
-was sorely out of his depth.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s all right,” said Eve, and crossed to the little
-fireplace, where she stood awhile thinking. “I’ll fetch
-your dinner now.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She laid the cloth and placed the dishes upon it.
-There was an awkwardness between them as they took
-their places, and very little disposition to talk.
-Wynne’s thoughts were mixed with wondering at her
-attitude and with intentions for the play. Hers were
-back to the birthday party of nearly three years before.
-It had been a night so full of promise. Everything
-had seemed so likely then. Then it had seemed
-good that the love and sunshine for which her spirit
-prayed should be rendered on the deferred payment
-system. Was it possible those goods would be outworn
-before the debt was discharged? She shivered and
-looked up under her lids at Wynne. He had changed
-so much; he seemed bigger—more like a man! The frail
-boy body and restless spirit were no longer upon the
-surface. He looked to have more ballast—to stand more
-firmly as a man among men.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>His voice broke in upon her thoughts:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re extraordinarily mine, aren’t you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” she nodded, and after a pause, “are you
-glad?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He did not give a direct answer.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You should know. Look! small wife, this is a between-while
-with us, and I want you to sympathize with
-the position. I’m all out to win—and I shall win—but
-I haven’t won yet. Until I do it isn’t possible for
-us to stand side by side. There’s barely enough to keep
-one afloat, and that one must be myself. You admit
-that, don’t you? I’m meeting all sorts of alleged big-wigs,
-and I must meet ’em level. As things are it is
-only just possible to do so. To raise the scale at one
-side, t’other must be kept down. But it won’t be for
-long, and afterwards it will be you and I—understand.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Of course I do.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Keep on helping, then, all you can.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Of course I will.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s all right.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>And so the best of us fulfil our obligations and justify
-our consciences.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>X</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Eve sat by herself in the second row of the stalls.
-Her eyes were glorious with hope. On her lap lay the
-program of the piece, with Wynne’s name ringing from
-the page.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The printing was a stupendous piece of self-sufficiency.
-She had noted, half-fearful, half-amused, the hum of
-conversation which had gone round the theatre as the
-audience noted the persistent large-type booming of a
-single unknown personality.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This young man is taking responsibilities upon his
-shoulders,” observed one newspaper critic to another.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The other smiled sardonically. Already he was tasting
-in anticipation several phrases he proposed to level
-against Mr. Wynne Rendall.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But who is he anyway?” seemed to arise from the
-general buzz of voices.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>From where she sat Eve could see the profile of Lane
-Quiltan. His box seemed very full—a circumstance
-which made her glad, for Wynne had refused to offer
-her a seat there. “He won’t want to be bothered with
-introductions on a first night; besides, there are lots of
-people who must be invited. I want you to be in the
-body of the house and feel the pulse of the audience.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>So it came about she was alone with none to talk
-with, and none to admire the pretty frock she wore.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It had not occurred to Wynne she would want a dress
-for his first night—she had not expected that it would;
-but, nevertheless, she was beautifully clad.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The possession of the evening dress and a wrap
-marked her first deliberate step toward rebellion. She
-had ordered it from a first-class West End dress-maker.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Send the bill to Mr. Wynne Rendall at the Vandyke
-Theatre,” she had said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Never before had Eve possessed so sweet a frock, and
-the touch of it sent a pleasurable thrill through her body.
-When she had finished dressing, every vestige of the
-drab, houseworking little figure had been transformed
-into a simple expression of fragile and delicious womanhood.
-Very gloriously she had felt this to be so as she
-stood before the mirror waiting for Wynne to return
-and take her to the theatre.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But he did not return. A messenger boy came instead,
-with a scribbled note asking for his “dress things,
-as I shan’t have time to get back before the play begins.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Thus Eve was denied even a moment to wish him well,
-and took her stall unnoticed and alone.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As she looked at Lane Quiltan’s profile she wondered
-how he felt at being forced to take a second place to
-Wynne in every point of prominence. For some reason
-she conceived that he would not be troubled over-much.
-There was a repose and stability in his looks which suggested
-a mental balance not easily disturbed by small-weight
-issues.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At long range she liked and felt the wish to know
-him better.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Steadfast, substantial,” she reasoned; “very unlike
-Wynne. He is hoping for the success of the play, not
-of himself. He won’t mind sacrificing himself to get
-it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It came to her that both she and Quiltan were contributing
-their share toward the making of Wynne
-Rendall, and both she and Quiltan were being left a little
-behind in the doing of it.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The curtain rose, and half an hour later Eve knew
-that Wynne had made good all he boasted he would do—and
-more. The spirit of the play shone through the
-lines with a truth of definition that was truly remarkable.
-The values of the human emotions portrayed were
-perfect. It was an example of the purest artistry and
-the surest perception. Not an idea was blurred—not an
-inflection out of place. Through an infinity of natural
-detail, rendered with mirrored exactitude, ran the soul
-and intention of the play, like the dominant theme of a
-great orchestral fugue. Even the veriest tyro in matters
-dramatic realized that no mere assembly of actors and
-actresses, however brilliant, could have achieved so faultless
-an effect without a master hand to guide them.
-What Wynne had learnt in the Paris ateliers years before
-he had set upon the stage. The words of the old
-Maitre had soaked in: “To we artists the human figure
-exists in masses of light and shade. It is not made up of
-legs and hands, and breasts, and ears and teeth. No,
-by the good God, no!” Wynne had remembered, and
-here was the distillation of the words. Here was his
-canvas with its faithful <span class='it'>chiaroscuro</span> of life.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But of all the people in the house that night only
-Eve knew the palette whereon the colours had been
-mixed. One by one she recognized and silently named
-them, and sometimes she glowed with pride, for many
-owed their brilliance and their being to herself.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well done, Wynne! Oh, well done!” she breathed,
-as the curtain fell.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We are seeing things tonight,” said an important
-critic as he and a contemporary passed toward the foyer.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Eve rose and followed them, and during the interval
-she moved from group to group and listened to what the
-audience had to say.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There was no doubt Wynne Rendall had come into
-his own, for although every one praised the play it was
-his name which came first.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I shall let him off a scathing over the press campaign,”
-said a representative of one of London’s dailies.
-“It’s the best production I’ve seen in years.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Eve noticed and recognized from Wynne’s descriptions,
-some of the tail-lights to the arts. They were busy
-adding his name to their lists. They were boasting of
-alleged friendship with him. One of the more venturesome
-spoke of him familiarly as “old W. R.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A man who leaps from obscurity to initials in a single
-night is getting a move on.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At the final curtain there was an ovation. The author
-and Wynne responded to “author’s call” together, then,
-as the applause continued, Wynne came down to the
-footlights alone. He seemed very collected, and twisted
-an unlighted cigarette between his forefinger and thumb.
-For the first time Eve thought he looked young—young
-and care-free, as though he had stepped into the element
-he had searched for for so many years. In this new
-element he moved with an ease and assurance that surprised
-her. She had thought he would show feverishness
-or excitement, but there was no trace of either in his
-bearing.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Speech! speech!” shouted the gallery.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He looked up at them with a winning smile, and replied,
-“Of course.” There was a fresh burst of applause
-and a wave of laughter, and when it died away
-he began to speak in the manner of a man chatting with
-friends about a fireside:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s a charming play, isn’t it? Very charming.
-Tomorrow my learned critics will be saying so. They
-will say, perhaps, ‘The play’s the thing’; but I trust
-they won’t forget that the manner of its interpretation
-is possibly an even greater thing.” He stopped, smiled
-and said, half under his breath, “Render unto Cæsar—Good-night,
-everybody.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Eve waited in the foyer, her cheeks aglow with excitement.
-Presently she saw Wynne come through an
-iron door into the press of congratulation. Half the
-important stage people in London were thronging round
-him. His composure was remarkable. Under the influence
-of success he seemed to have grown up and moved
-as a man among men. A pretty, rather elaborate girl
-pressed forward to greet him with adulation, and Eve
-noted how he touched her cheek with a kind of possessive
-patronage, and turned aside to speak to some one else.
-The action was very unlike her preconception of his
-character. Presently he noticed her, and nodded a smile
-across the crowded room.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Like it?” his lips framed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>And her eyes flashed back the answer.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Seemingly this satisfied him, for he moved away. A
-little later on he noticed her again.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t wait for me,” he said. “I’m sure to be late.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Eve walked out of the theatre alone.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Get me a cab,” she said to the commissionaire.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m sorry, madam, but there are very few tonight.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That one,” she pointed to a taxi standing by the
-curb.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That is being kept for Mr. Rendall, madam.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, is it?” said Eve, and walked toward the Tube.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>XI</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As she turned into Jermyn Street a middle-aged man,
-walking briskly in the same direction, came level with
-her. He was in evening dress, and his coat was open
-to the night air. He wore a soft hat, and a pipe projected
-from his mouth at a jaunty angle. As he walked
-he sang to himself as one who is glad.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Eve caught a glimpse of his features, and gave a little
-exclamation, whereupon the man turned and looked at
-her.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hallo!” he said, “I know you—but—good heavens!
-I’ve got you. But what in blazes are you doing here by
-yourself, tonight of all nights?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m walking home, Uncle Clementine.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then, begad! it’s meself will walk with you. Always
-talk Irish when I’m excited—at least I believe I do;
-but what’s it matter? I’m excited enough to talk double
-Dutch tonight—aren’t you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Rather,” responded Eve, for Uncle Clem awoke an
-echo of his mood in others.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I should think you were. Splendid! Top-hole!
-Lord! Lord! Lord! What a production! Aren’t
-you proud?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Very.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s away, that young fellar of yours—he’s up and
-away. Always knew he had the stuff, from the day
-when I ran off with him in a station fly and talked
-fairies under the trees. He’s learnt—knew he would,
-and he has. Oh! he’s learnt well! Wouldn’t mind laying
-a fiver he’s taken a share of his knowledge from
-you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s nice of you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not a bit—common sense! Tell you what, though—’tween
-us two—that speech was a mistake. Cheap and
-nasty! Drop him a hint, there’s a clever girl, to cut all
-that stuff right out.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Eve smiled. “Have you ever tried to drop Wynne
-hints about things like that?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ve thrown him a slab of wisdom from time to time.
-Not that kind, perhaps. But that’s what I say—<span class='it'>you</span> tell
-him. You’ve the opportunity. Ha!” He threw up his
-head. “That’s one of the good things in life that I’ve
-missed.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What is?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“To have some one who, in the night, will touch
-my foot with her littlest toe and breathe over the pillow
-all the naughty mistakes I’ve made during the
-day.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I see,” said Eve.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Something in her tone discouraged him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ’Course that mayn’t be the way it’s done; I’ve no
-experience, but I’ve fondly imagined it was so.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“So have I,” said Eve; “but, like yourself, I have
-no experience.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What d’you say?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“If I stretched out my littlest toe I should bump it
-against the partition wall. That would be very sad,
-wouldn’t it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Uncle Clem stopped short.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Are you serious?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. Don’t you remember our wedding talk?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Remember it!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He began to walk very fast, so fast that she could
-scarcely keep pace with him. At last he jerked out the
-question:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That travesty holds good, then? That’s why, on
-the night of his success, you’re walking home alone
-’stead of feasting at a top-notch restaurant. Good God!
-And I’ve been shaking hands with myself these four
-hours past that my gloomy forebodings hadn’t come true—but,
-damn it! they have.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” exclaimed Eve, “you mustn’t say that; it isn’t
-so.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But it is.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. The success was to come first. You remember
-we said so that day.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, what’s wrong with tonight’s success?—and
-you’re walking home alone.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, tonight he has found himself.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And left you behind.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t want to say that. I beg you not to say things
-like that. They hurt so.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In an instant he was all sympathy.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why, my dear, don’t heed me. You understand
-the boy, and I’m only an onlooker who gets a
-glimpse here and there. That’s how it seemed to
-me at a snapshot glance—but I may be wrong. I
-don’t know what I’m talking about half the time.
-I love that husband of yours, he has such a splendid
-pluck.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, he’s been so splendid, Uncle Clem—you must
-believe that. Never for an instant has he spared himself.
-He’s worked—worked—worked. That’s why he
-came out so finely tonight.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I know. But though a man does not spare himself
-he must always spare others—that’s the great science
-of life. Haven’t you worked too?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We’ve been partners, as we said we’d be until success
-was ours. And now he’s made the success, and⁠—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Success as an artist, and he’s going to share it as
-a man?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I believe so—oh, I do believe so.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Uncle Clem walked awhile in silence. When he began
-to talk it was almost as if he were speaking to himself.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Queer trusting folk, we mortals,” he said. “And
-we set ourselves such wonderful tasks. How old Dame
-Nature must laugh at us and all our philosophies.
-Fancy two young people locking up the spark of love
-which had sprung between them, packing it away in a
-secret safe, and believing it could be brought to life when
-convenience allowed. How old Dame Nature must
-laugh! Can’t you imagine her peeping into the safe to
-see how the spark is getting along?” He turned suddenly
-upon Eve. “How is it getting along?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I keep it locked up here.” She pressed her hand
-upon her heart.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Wonderful you!” said Uncle Clem. “God bless
-your trust. Hullo! This where you live?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Can I come up for awhile?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not tonight.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No—no—no. Of course not. He’ll come back with
-his pockets full of champagne, and his heart come to
-life. I like you, you know. I think you’re fine.
-You’re so damn good to look at, too. Ever hear of the
-purple patch?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. Why?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Just thinking you’ve the leading light in your eyes
-that should guide a man there. Good-night.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good-night, Uncle Clem.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At two o’clock Eve took off her pretty frock, put on
-her plain cotton nightdress, and went to bed.</p>
-
-<div><span class='pageno' title='289' id='Page_289'></span><h1>PART SEVEN<br/> <span class='sub-head'>—WHO TRAVELS ALONE”</span></h1></div>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>I</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In the weeks following it was made clearly evident
-that Wynne Rendall was taking no precautions that
-his wife should share his new prosperity. Conceivably
-he thought that the mere sharing of his name—a
-name which had sprung into such instant prominence—was
-adequate compensation for any woman.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The newspapers had given him unsparing praise, and
-already he had been approached by several managements
-with a view to undertaking their productions. To these
-offers he shook his head, replying that he was a writer
-by profession and not a producer.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In an interview he told the reporter that he only
-worked in the direction of his ambitions, and for the
-moment his ambitions were satisfied.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>This was, of course, mere persiflage, but several members
-of the reading public thought it very fine.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He was asked everywhere—but only accepted invitations
-which appealed to him. At the functions he attended
-he usually contrived to fire off at least a couple
-of startling phrases which were remembered and repeated
-by those persons who unintentionally work inside
-advertising for the would-be great.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Being out and about so much he did not bother to
-alter the conditions of life at home. It is true he left
-rather more money for Eve to use, but since he showed
-no disposition for her to take a place beside him on the
-new plane she found no incentive to change the old
-régime.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>On the morning after the play was produced, with
-all the notices before her, Eve had stretched out a hand
-to him, and said:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’ve won—absolutely you’ve won. My dear, I am
-so proud.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, I’ve made a start. There’s a long way to go
-yet.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>With a chilly sense she felt that he had not said this
-from any modesty, but rather to delay admitting the
-success for which they had fought their battle.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She was conscious afterwards that he shunned the
-topic of his success, and kept the conversation on impersonal
-lines.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>That glorious moment to which all her hopes had been
-pinned and all her labours consecrated did not mature
-into reality. It seemed that he was floating out of her
-life as a steamship passes a yacht at sea. And so, with
-the measure of his success, there came about in Eve a
-corresponding stagnation.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It would have been easy then to have engaged a servant
-to do the housework, to have bought furniture, linen,
-and the many delightful things she had planned to do;
-but somehow the inclination to do so had gone. It was
-preferable to have occupation of some sort, if only to
-keep her thoughts from brooding on these disappointments.
-Besides, she took an almost cynical interest in
-wondering how long he would allow her to remain as a
-drudge who worked for him with her two hands.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne himself was cheerfully indifferent to the trend
-of her thoughts. He was in excellent spirits, enthusiastic
-for the present, and full of plans for the future.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>When “Witches” came to an end he said he proposed
-to put on a play of his own. Lane Quiltan would
-supply the capital.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Have you asked him?” said Eve.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not yet.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Wouldn’t it be better to do so before being too
-sure?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He tossed the idea aside with:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Some things one can take for granted. I am as confident
-of his support as I am confident that at least five
-young ladies in the company are wondering when I shall
-invite them to Brighton for the week-end.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>With rather an effort, Eve replied:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Only five?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I said in the company,” he very rapturously retorted.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The suggestion of these words struck a peculiar chord
-of memory in Eve. They recalled very vividly a vulgar
-little cousin of hers—a boy scarcely out of his teens—who
-had boasted, with considerable pride, of a liaison
-with a young lady at a tobacconist’s. It was an unpleasant
-parallel, but she could not clear it from her
-mind.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Hitherto the physical side of Wynne had been so dormant.
-She had nursed the shell which held his spirit,
-and nourished it to a manlier form. As he stood there
-before speaking she realized that in body he was a man
-of different fibre, capable of passions not only of the
-mind. It would be tragic and pitiable if these were to
-be awakened by the same vulgar instincts which attack
-the little Lotharios of nineteen.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>This was the man who had starved for a week to buy
-a copy of Walter Pater.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She fell to wondering whether, had their first meeting
-been now instead of then, she could have sat the night
-through in his rooms without fear of consequence.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>And while she wondered upon these matters, Wynne’s
-eyes travelled critically over her face and figure.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re rather drab,” he thought; “you haven’t much
-colour. If your hair were dressed differently it would
-be an improvement, perhaps. That is certainly a deplorable
-dress—and your hands!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A man whose function is to produce plays acquires
-a ready knack of judging possible qualities by external
-indications. The habit is not one to be recommended in
-the home, for in practising it he is apt to overlook many
-essentials and ignore grave liabilities.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A just man would not accuse a sweep of possessing a
-blackened soul because his face was sooted from sweeping
-the flues. The instance may sound trivial enough,
-but it is no less trivial than the train of thought running
-through Wynne’s lightly-poised mind as he contemplated
-the wife of his own making. His eyes were
-deceived by petty superficiality, and blinded to the
-beauty veiled behind a screen of three years’ unremitting
-toil. He did not bother to speculate if that beauty
-would leap to glorious life at the touch of the hand that
-swept the screen away. To follow his thoughts to their
-inglorious anchorage, he was sensible to a wave of self-pity.
-It seemed rather ill-luck, with the ball of success
-at his feet, a fresh glow of manhood ripening in his veins,
-that he should be tied to a woman who had lost the fine
-edge of her desirability.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I see,” said Eve at last; “and do you propose to
-disappoint them?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne dropped his cigarette into the grate.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I never know what I propose to do. The greatest
-mistake in the world is to cut the picnic sandwiches before
-knowing what the weather will be.”</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>II</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was more to please his humour than from any liking
-for the lesser grades of courtship that Wynne came to
-amuse himself at the theatre by talking perilous rubbish
-to a highly unimportant young lady of the cast.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Never before had he indulged in this particular sport,
-and never, until lately, had the temptation to do so
-allured him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>To tell the truth, he was not a little flattered by the
-success of his early attempts at love badinage; although,
-had he chosen to look beneath the surfaces of the very
-shallow waters which were ruffled by his wit, he would
-have found little cause for self-congratulation.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Esme Waybury, the favoured, had an ax to grind.
-In her trivial soul was ambition to get on (“getting
-on” implying the receipt of a salary large enough to
-satisfy her tastes in shoe-leather and millinery). A little
-moral laxity is sometimes a short road to the realizations
-of these trifles. Favours, artfully bestowed in the right
-quarter, are often more fruitful of success than is
-genuine talent.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>To her, Wynne Rendall was a power in the land—a
-power which, with a little tact, might easily be diverted
-toward herself. Without being affected by prickings of
-conscience, she decided, if occasion offered, she would
-compromise herself with him, and step lightly from the
-wreckage of her virtue to spheres of extravagance hitherto
-unattainable. To the furtherance of this ignoble
-end, she pouted, smiled, and performed those various
-verbal and facial evolutions which, for a hundred centuries,
-have served to divert mankind from the straight
-and narrow path.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Esme was one of those pouting darlings who look
-infinitely sad at the smallest word, with that quality of
-sadness which provokes thoughts of remedial kisses in the
-male mind.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Eve produced her first pout at an understudy rehearsal
-taken by Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You know,” he had said, “you are very bad in this
-part.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Esme then pouted.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, aren’t you?” continued Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Esme added four quick blinks to the pout very
-adroitly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>That was all, but when Wynne passed through the
-stage door Esme and her pout were there—a vision to
-disturb dreams.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne smiled as he walked up the street. It was
-pleasant to reflect that by half a dozen words he could
-cause a pout to be produced of so enduring a nature.
-As an observer, he considered the elements which go to
-make a good pout. Undoubtedly Esme’s pout had been
-a good one. Her lips were of a sweet red, and moist
-with the dews of grief. With a good pout one saw ever
-such a little more of lips than one was accustomed to see.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>No man can think long of this subject without considering
-the possibilities thereof, and for the first time
-Wynne was consciously drawn to the idea that it must
-be a sweet enough task to kiss a pair of pretty lips.
-Further to this line of thought, he deemed that it might
-be pleasanter still to kiss a pair of pouting lips. And
-here his investigation stopped short in a sharp surprise
-that such considerations could find a place in his over-stocked
-brain.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Clearly he must have changed in some important
-features. Was it a sign of age or youth? he asked himself.
-He became aware that his feet rang heartily upon
-the pavement, and when he filled his lungs with good air
-the life quickened in his veins.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s youth,” he said aloud—“youth!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>To the astonishment of a passer-by he stretched out
-his arms luxuriously and laughed:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m young—young!” Then with a wave of self-pity:
-“Lord! I’ve worked hard!”</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>III</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Even the most virtuous of men are conscious of a
-foolish elation when marked for favour from a woman’s
-eyes. They do not, as a rule, inquire over-deeply into
-the value of the glances bestowed upon them. In theory
-Wynne Rendall was not in the least virtuous. At the
-club he had frequently remarked that, if lack of virtue
-were not such a general failing with mankind, he would
-certainly have been a very devil of a fellow. But this
-and many similar statements had been mere phrase-making,
-designed to fit the wall-space of a conversation.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>To adopt a cynical attitude toward human frailty was
-part of his mental routine, and in no way sprung from
-a natural distaste for sin. Until now sex had left him
-unmoved and apathetic. He had watched others
-flounder in the toils of emotion, himself unstirred by
-curiosity or desire.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>With the discovery of Esme’s pout and his own youth
-arose the opportunity to direct the currents of his stored
-wisdom upon himself. And, after the fashion of most
-men since the world began, he did no such thing. He
-made no attempt to consider whither these thoughts led,
-or where they drifted, but contentedly let himself gravitate
-toward the enchanting vortices so lately revealed to
-him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>And so, on the night on which he had told his wife
-that he never knew what he proposed to do, he engaged
-Miss Esme in trivial conversation, and found in the
-practice a new and amusing diversion.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He was sufficiently entertained to mention some of the
-passages which had occurred between them at breakfast
-next day, and thereafter the name Esme—always referred
-to in the lightest manner—recurred with some
-frequency in his conversation.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But, if he were pleased with the affair, Miss Esme
-deplored its tedious progression, and did her noblest to
-smarten up the course of events. In this, however, she
-met with ill-success. Wynne was amused, but no more,
-and made no attempt to encourage a closer intimacy.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There are few women who would have undergone
-those first months of Wynne’s success as courageously
-as did Eve. There are few who would have followed
-so particularly, and with such understanding, the mental
-processes through which he passed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>To the Esme affair she attached no great importance.
-She realized that any healthy-bodied youngster would
-have outgrown the Esme period as he passed from his
-teens. That Wynne had failed to do so was a natural
-consequence of the starved, brain-fagging life he had
-led.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How old Dame Nature must laugh at us and all our
-philosophies,” Uncle Clem had said. Very clearly Eve
-saw the meaning he had sought to convey. Dame Nature
-must be laughing now—laughing at the natural reaction
-of nature denied.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A woman will always make allowances for the man
-she loves, and she forced herself to believe that the period
-through which Wynne was passing would prove
-transient. When it had passed the real metamorphosis
-might come about—and the future promised to each
-other.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>One of the greatest mercies is the survival of the
-hoping habit. In imagination it still seemed possible
-Wynne would turn to her with the light of pride and
-possession, and call her to his side because he needed her
-there.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>So once more she harnessed her soul to wait, though
-the collar galled as never before.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>IV</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>One night Wynne said:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I shall tackle Quiltan tomorrow about backing my
-play. I would have spoken at the club tonight, but some
-one always interrupts. Think you could provide a
-decent meal if I asked him to lunch here?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Eve’s spirits leapt.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Of course I could,” she said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At last, and for the first time, he was bringing his
-interests home. Unimportant though his words may
-have seemed they were full of the most glorious possibilities.
-It meant so much more than asking a man to lunch.
-It meant that, at a critical point, he and she would be
-side by side to discuss a great step in his future—in their
-future. Besides, it would be so splendid to meet Quiltan—to
-know and be known by a friend of Wynne’s. She
-suddenly realized in the three years of their married
-life there had been no friends—nothing but work and
-their partnership to relieve the grey monotony of existence.
-At the mere suggestion of Quiltan’s coming she
-was bubbling over with excitement.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What’s the matter?” asked Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know—only I’m awfully, awfully glad. It’s—I
-haven’t met many people lately—and your asking
-him—here, I— What would you like for lunch?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Heaven knows! Any notepaper? I’ll drop him a
-line.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>That night Eve lay awake and her thoughts were good
-to own. They began nowhere and travelled everywhere—out
-into the unknown and beyond. And because of a
-sudden intense happiness she forgot all manner of doubts
-which of late had oppressed and haunted her.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She rose early and took a pretty dress from a drawer—a
-dress which, because he seemed not to care about these
-things, she foolishly had never worn before him. When
-she returned from the shops she was laden with parcels,
-and light of heart.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne was standing in the sitting-room with an expression
-of some displeasure upon his face. The spring
-sunshine coming through the windows emphasized the
-shabbiness of the furniture and appointments. A
-golden shaft caught Eve’s face as she entered, and made
-her radiant. But Wynne did not look toward her. His
-eyes rested on the tufts of horsehair projecting from the
-upholstery of the old armchair—the sunken springs, and
-the threadbare dilapidation of the carpet.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ve bought a sole,” said Eve, “and some cutlets and
-peas, and I’ll make an omelette with apricot jam⁠—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes—all right,” said Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But I must hurry, for there’s a fearsome lot to do.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Away she went to the kitchen, where she donned an
-apron, rolled up her sleeves, and got to work.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Never since the early days of her marriage had she
-set about her duties so happily.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“God’s going to be good to me soon,” she said to the
-frying-pan. “I know He is—I know He is.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The sunshine thrilled her veins with a new sense of
-life. Two affectionate sparrows set up a lover-like duet
-on the kitchen window-sill. The air was full of young
-spring. All was right with the world.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hallo!” It was Wynne’s voice calling. “I say, I
-can’t possibly ask Quiltan to this shabby old place. It
-would bias any one. I’ll ring him up and tell him to
-meet me at the club. G’bye.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A moment later the front door slammed. The sound
-scared the sparrows at their courtship and sent them
-fluttering to a tree below.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Then Eve sat down, and resting her head on the
-kitchen table, cried as if her soul were broken in two.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>V</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne rang up Quiltan’s number, and was answered
-by the manservant, who said:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Very good, sir. I will tell him.” But when he
-went to do so he found his master had already gone out.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Lane Quiltan was somewhat surprised when the door
-of Wynne’s flat was opened by a girl who by no stretch
-of imagination could be thought to belong to the servant
-class. She wore a coarse apron, her sleeves were rolled
-up, and there was a redness about her eyes that could
-only have come from tears.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I beg your pardon,” he said; “is this Mr. Rendall’s
-flat?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Is he—at home?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” replied Eve. Then, as she realized what had
-happened, a smile broke the tragical lines of her expression.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He asked me to lunch,” said Quiltan. “May I
-come in?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, please do.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He followed her to the shabby sitting-room.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m afraid,” said Eve, “my husband won’t be back
-to lunch. He was telephoning to ask you to meet him
-at the club instead.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Your husband?” He looked at her in surprise.
-“I didn’t know Rendall was married.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She bit her lip—it was rather an unkind stab. He
-noticed this, and hastened to say:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That is, he never told me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why should he?” she answered quickly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He looked at her for a longish while before replying:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I can see quite a number of reasons.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The words were spoken with simple sincerity, and
-they brought a glow of bright colour to her cheeks.
-Thinking perhaps he had offended, he said:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, since he has gone to the club, I suppose I
-had better follow him there. I don’t want to go a bit,
-and I’m sorry we shan’t be lunching together.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“So am I,” she nodded.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why aren’t we?” he asked, unexpectedly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I suppose there is no great harm telling you—since
-you are here. This was to have been a business
-meeting, and Wynne thought the surroundings might
-prove—unproductive.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh!” He hesitated; then: “When did he think
-that?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“An hour ago.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then,” said Quiltan, with quick intuition, “the
-lunch must have been partially prepared?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It was.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He took a deep breath.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Isn’t it a pity to waste it? I mean, don’t you
-think I might be invited to share it with you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There was something very attractive in the tentative
-manner in which he made the proposal.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do you want to stay?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Very much indeed.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do stay, then—please stay. I was rather— I mean,
-it would make a difference if you stayed. But I haven’t
-finished cooking yet. You’d have to wait a little.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“So much the better.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll be as quick as I can. There are plenty of books
-here.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He made a wry face.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Of course, if I must read I will,” he said; “but
-I’d much rather help cook.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You can if you like.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s jolly of you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He threw his overcoat over the back of a chair, and together
-they made their way to the kitchen.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I had no idea a sole had its face powdered before
-being put in a fry-pan,” he observed, and made her
-laugh merrily.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It goes in like a white Parisian, and comes out a
-sunburnt Spaniard,” she returned.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You look as if some sun would do you no harm.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I dare say it wouldn’t. Haven’t tried the experiment.
-Would you like to be useful and lay the table
-in the front room?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, can’t we eat here?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“If you’d rather, we can.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Much rather. Everything piping hot, and you won’t
-be everlastingly running off to fetch dishes, will you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was so long since any one had minded what she
-did that Eve caught her breath in a half-sob.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What’s the matter?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nothing.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It had seemed rather cruel that this five minutes’
-friend should say the very things Wynne never bothered
-to say.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But you—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I did. I do silly things sometimes, but I’m not
-really hysterical.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I know.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How can you know?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I seem to know you very well. That remarkable
-husband of yours contrived to put a lot of you into the
-characters of my play. I used to puzzle about it—used
-to wonder where his extraordinary intimate knowledge
-came from.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Eve was all enthusiasm in a second.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You really mean that?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ’Course. He used to show the women what to do
-in the most amazing way. Now I can see the source
-of his wisdom.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s made me happy. It’s nice to feel one is of
-use, isn’t it? There are some knives and forks in the
-box there, and the plates are in the dresser.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was because she could feel his eyes resting inquiringly
-upon her that she gave him this sudden direction.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Presently they sat down to the first course.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This is jolly,” said Quiltan.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s a change for you. I wonder—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Only whether you would think it quite so jolly if
-it were all.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>For awhile he made no reply, then he laid down his
-knife and fork.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say,” he said, “shall we be friends?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I am sure we shall be.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I mean— Well, this meeting of ours was never
-really intended, so one might excusably assume that
-it had never taken place. Wouldn’t we be justified,
-then, in talking to one another as we might have talked
-to ourselves if we had been alone?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Eve shivered. “It might not be a happy conversation.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Even so—why not? We could be as honest as
-dreams are, and what we said could be as easily forgotten.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m frightened of dreams,” said Eve. “They never
-come true.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Won’t you tell me one that hasn’t come true? If
-it hasn’t come false there is hope for it yet.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I suppose there is.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Won’t you tell me that dream?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“If you promise to wake up and forget it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Tell me first.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>And so, rather haltingly, but with growing confidence,
-Eve told the stranger of her hopes:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I can see clearly now, it was a companion Wynne
-needed, that’s all—a mental companion. Had I been
-a man I might have entered more deeply into his life.
-You see, we fought to rise out of this rut, and now
-he has begun to rise he finds that I am part of the rut—something
-to be left behind. I believe a man and
-woman were not intended to live together as we have—there
-was no fire, you see—we were just partners.
-The marriage link cannot be welded without fire. I
-wonder—do you understand what I mean?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He nodded gravely.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Wynne’s was all mental fire. The embers of his
-love for me have never glowed into a flame.” She
-laughed to smother a sob. “They are out—out altogether—dead
-and cold! At least it seems so. I have
-been like a book to him—an information bureau and
-debating society in one. Ever ready to supply the
-thoughts that were not self-revealing. And now I have
-been read from cover to cover, and it’s foolish, I suppose,
-to expect a place in the new library.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What a damnable story!” said Quiltan, with sudden
-fierceness. “I feel like—kicking him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t feel like that. Everybody has wanted to
-kick Wynne. It was the first thing which drew me
-toward him. And when you look at it all from his
-point of view, you <span class='it'>can see</span>.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“<span class='it'>You</span> find excuses for him?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Easily.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How—how?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I love him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Still?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. And I’d go through just such another three
-years if I thought that he would love me at the end—gladly
-I would.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But suppose he never does love you! What then?
-How long can you last out like this? Don’t you want
-to live?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, yes, I want to live.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well then?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But all the folk who want to live can’t have their
-way. Perhaps I shall just go on wanting till even the
-want dies.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s unthinkable.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But very possible.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She became suddenly aware of the intensity of his
-expression. The sinews of his close-shut hands showed
-white, and in his eyes burnt a strange fire. An odd
-fear seized her, and to cover her nervousness she quoted
-at random.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t you remember the Browning lines:</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>“ ‘Some with lives that came to nothing,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Some with deeds as well undone,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Death came tacitly and took them where they never see the sun.’ ”</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='pindent'>He seized on the purport of a single line, and said:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Isn’t the alternative better, perhaps, than this?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Death?” she queried.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Some with deeds as well undone.’ ”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He spoke with a queer hoarseness.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>For a moment she held his eyes steadily, then with
-quick colour turned away her head.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I thought,” she said, “we were to be friends.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Haven’t you had enough of friendship?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She had thought he would recover himself at the
-rebuke, but if anything his voice was more insistent.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Haven’t you?” he repeated.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There is no need for you to make love to me, Mr.
-Quiltan.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How do you know?” he retorted. “How can you
-possibly say that?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She rose and moved some plates to the dresser.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I suppose you were sorry for me, and thought that
-the kindest way to show it. You were wrong.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>His reply was unexpected:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How can you possibly say I was wrong? You don’t
-know—you don’t know what may have happened to
-me since I came here. If I made you think I am a
-lover by trade I apologize—for it’s the last thing I
-would have you believe.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She scarcely knew what to answer, but there was no
-need, for he started afresh:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“D’you know, I have never been in love with any
-one before. I have never even made love to any one;
-but, by God! I want to make love to you. The instant
-you opened the door I knew something had happened
-to me. I’m in love with you—do you understand?—absolutely.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Despite the startled fear these crazy words awoke,
-Eve could not but feel a sudden impulse of warmth.
-In the midst of the passionless monotony of her life—at
-a time when her every thought was doubting if she
-possessed any one quality to endear—came this sudden
-avowal, backed by a sincerity that could not be misunderstood.
-The very surprise written on his face testified
-that he meant all he had said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>So they looked at each other with the greatest perplexity,
-and only the silliest, most conventional phrase
-found its way to Eve’s lips.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m married,” she said. “You forget. You
-mustn’t speak so.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I deny your marriage, so why shouldn’t I speak
-as I feel? I must speak.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“When I ask you not?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>His hands fell to his sides.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why do you ask me not? Is it nothing to hear of
-love, even though you may not need it? Oh, I⁠—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Please.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He took a step toward her, then turned sharply away.
-Presently he laughed:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ha! I said we’d be as honest as dreams are—and
-we have been. You know how dreams go—leaping from
-rock to rock—clearing all difficulties—you and the
-subject to the predestined end.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What is the predestined end?” said Curiosity.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“To make you happy.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Is that a part of love?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“All of mine,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She stretched out her hand.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, you’re rather good. I’m glad you came, you
-have given me back what I had lost.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’ve given me hope.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I wish I could give you reality.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hope is better, New Friend.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Until it dies.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It shan’t die,” said Eve, with a sudden fierceness.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But if it should, would not reality help you to forget?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How would you know if hope had died?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“If—if he failed me altogether,” she slowly answered.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I understand,” said Quiltan.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>VI</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne Rendall was not a little irritated at Quiltan’s
-failure to keep the appointment. He lunched alone
-at the club, and for want of better occupation strolled
-round to the theatre afterwards. He walked on to the
-stage at the very moment Miss Esme was beginning
-her scene, and, observing him, this young lady very
-promptly gave up all attempts to proceed, and said:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I do wish you wouldn’t come to rehearsals—you
-frighten me most dreadfully.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come along, Miss Waybury,” insisted the stage
-manager.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But Wynne held up his hand.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Wait a bit. We’ll go over it together. Take the
-rest through, Henson, and read for Miss Waybury.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He led the way to a comfortable office which had
-been set aside for his use, and nodded Esme toward
-one of the big leather chairs.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Now then, what’s the matter with you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You frighten me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do I?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Umps!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t believe it,” said Wynne. “You’re up to
-some mischief, you are.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Esme pouted and looked at him demurely for just
-the right length of time.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m not.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, yes you are.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Esme hesitated. “Well, I can’t help liking you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Heroic announcement of an infatuated young lady.
-And now what good purpose do you suppose that will
-serve?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No good.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“At the first guess!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Because you’re so stand off.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Would the purpose be any better if I weren’t?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, think.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. You’re horrid—you’re trying to tie me up.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Believe me!” Wynne negatived.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, in words—and I can’t talk.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Eloquent in other ways?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m not.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, yes. That pout, for instance.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You <span class='it'>are</span> horrid.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But I like the pout. You pout ever so much better
-than you act—you should stick to pouting. Pout
-now!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I shan’t.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come, just a little one—one small pout.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I insist.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You can’t make me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m waiting.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Esme covered her mouth with her hand. “Now what
-are you going to do?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Wait—go on waiting.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Very slowly she lowered her hand, and for a short
-second he saw the little red lips screwed up in obedience
-to his command. Absurd as it may seem, the foolish
-conquest gave him a perplexing thrill.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Again,” he said. “It was too short.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” said Esme, shaking her head. “I shan’t do
-it again. You’re laughing at me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She rose and moved a little toward him and the door.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And what’s wrong with that?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t want to be laughed at—not by you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I doubt if you know what you do want.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ’Tany rate I shan’t tell you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Wonderful independence!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll go back now, please.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Never neglecting her studies for an instant!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Esme came level with him and laid her hand on the
-door knob.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sometimes,” she began, “I think—I think⁠—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I think you are a very good little boy.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She opened the door, but as quickly he closed it
-again.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What do you mean by that?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Her eyes rested on the pattern of the carpet. There
-was brighter colour on Wynne’s cheeks as he repeated:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What do you mean by that?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Just what I said.” Her eyes were still lowered.
-“ ’Course I don’t blame you—some people are born
-good—some people can’t help it—some people aren’t
-plucky enough to be anything else.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They stood without moving, while new and insane
-senses started to pulse in his side and throat.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Then very slowly Esme raised her chin and looked
-at him, her eyes half hidden by their lids, her lips
-curled in a moist, mocking pout.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In an instant Wynne’s arms fastened round her, but
-she pressed away from him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You mustn’t kiss me—you mustn’t. If you did I
-don’t know what would happen.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t care,” said Wynne, madly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>So having won her pretty little battle she struggled
-no more, but put her lips where best they might be
-reached.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>VII</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Five minutes later he was speeding northward in
-a taxi. He had given the driver his home address,
-but he said a second later:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No; drive me out Hampstead way—keep going—any
-old where.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Then he lay back and let the wind rush through his
-hair, while his thoughts ran riot.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>His last words to Esme had been:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“In a few days—I’ll arrange something.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He had meant it—he meant it still. She was nothing
-to him—only youth. But youth was splendid. What
-did anything else matter? He felt like some wild young
-thing of the forests when the “spring running” was
-in the air. A great sense of release possessed him. It
-was unlike any other sensation he had ever known. He
-was amazed it should have sprung from so trivial a
-source, but ignored to inquire more deeply into this
-line of thought. Had he but known it, the change that
-had come about in him—that curious, half-wicked ecstasy—was
-of the same emotional coinage that attacks the
-average boy when first he kisses a pretty chambermaid
-in the dark of a dormitory corridor.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As the taxi climbed the Hampstead hill his thoughts
-turned to Eve, and he wondered how he should approach
-her in the telling of the affair. After all, there was
-nothing to tell yet—but later there would be.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In his insane exuberance he decided that he would
-make no attempt to mask his actions. If he were not
-ashamed he would not act as though he were. Emphatically
-not. Let people say what they might, he would
-steer his own course—go his own way for all the world
-to see.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Would Eve mind a great deal? Why should she?
-After all, there was but a partnership of brain and
-work which bound each to each. He wondered even
-if there would be any infidelity in what he proposed
-to do.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But what had infidelity or partnership, or obligation
-or anything else, to do with it? He was an artist,
-unruled by law or convention. If he desired an excess
-of the brain he had indulged the desire—why not, then,
-an excess of the body.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In the middle of the Heath he left the taxi, and
-tramped across the soft turf. He walked fast and in
-a large circle. As he went he sang to himself, and
-once, hat in hand, chased a butterfly as a schoolboy
-might have done. In the little clearing among the trees
-he came upon some boys and girls playing a boisterous
-laughing game. The girls were flappers with short
-skirts, and cheeks rosy with running. He stayed to
-watch them, and, fired by enthusiasm, shouted encouragement
-to pursuer and pursued. One of the bolder shouted
-back that he should join in, and without a thought he
-threw aside his coat and was racing and laughing with the
-rest. The game was postman’s knock, and as postman
-he caught the prettiest after a spirited chase, and kissed
-her as they collapsed into the tangled brambles.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Still laughing and breathless, he picked up his coat
-and followed his way.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The sun was falling red, and the chill evening air
-tasted like champagne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Champagne—yes—he would go to the club and drink
-champagne—lots of it. He wanted to hear men talk—listen
-to and applaud their tales of adventure. He had
-laughed at them—hurled at their frailty lampoons
-through the press, and yet tonight he would laugh with
-them—yes, with them, for they were right, and he, for
-all his wisdom, had been wrong—wrong—wrong.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>God gave unto each man one life—to make the most
-of. That was the wise man’s creed.</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;“Of making many books there is no end:</p>
-<p class='line0'>and much study is a weariness of the flesh.”</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='pindent'>He arrived at the club about seven o’clock, and was
-informed that a gentleman was waiting to see him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t want to see anybody. Who is he?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The page produced a card bearing the name, “Mr.
-Sefton Wainwright,” and below, “New British Drama
-Association.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Every one had heard of the New British Drama Association.
-It was rumoured that it would be the greatest
-and most progressive theatrical enterprise in England.
-The scaffold-poles of the façade of their splendid new
-theatre were already being taken down, and it was said
-that the opening would be in the coming autumn.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How long had he been waiting?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nearly an hour, sir.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then he deserves to see me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mr. Wainwright was very affable, also he was very
-businesslike.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We want three producers on our permanent staff—a
-business producer, a classic producer, and one with a
-<span class='it'>flair</span> like yourself. We mean to do things at our theatre,
-Mr. Rendall!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Aha.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, what about it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m a writer.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“So much the better. You’ll have plenty of time.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I believe I’m a mercenary too.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A thousand a year any good?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne smiled.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I have lived on less,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then I repeat, what about it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“If you’ll do a play of mine I’ll think more kindly
-of the offer.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Send it right along. And in the meantime⁠—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You let me know about the play and I’ll let you
-know about the producing.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Very well—today is Friday. Shall we say Friday
-week?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll come and see you at eleven o’clock.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And you like the idea?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I like everything. I’m in love with the world today.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At dinner Wynne drank a large quantity of champagne,
-and insisted that every one else in the immediate
-neighbourhood should do likewise. As he drank his
-spirits rose, and so also did his voice. There was a great
-deal of laughter and much wit—and the wit was accorded
-more laughter than it deserved. After dinner there
-were brandies and sodas and more wit—lots of wit—so
-much wit that every one was witty at once and missed
-their neighbour’s scintillations. Under the influence of
-the brandies and sodas wit ripened to adventure. Many
-and glorious were the adventures recited, and it seemed
-that all save Wynne had adventured deeply. He leaned
-against the mantelshelf and looked at the brave with
-bright eyes.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, you marvellous Lotharios!” he cried. “To
-think that you, Anson—and you, too, Braithwaite—should
-have adventured along paths denied to myself.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Many wise heads were shaken at this improbable
-suggestion.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, no, no, I assure you—innocent, my lords and
-gentlemen—hand on heart I say it” (much laughter
-and ironical cheers). “But I will turn over a new leaf.
-The spring is in the air—the call! Guide me with your
-wise lights to glades of Eros, for honestly”—he dropped
-into the commonplace—“if I ran away with a girl I
-shouldn’t know where to run. Tell me, some one.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Depends on how secret you wish to be,” the some
-one replied.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Secret no—to hell with subterfuge!” cried Wynne,
-who had many drinks beneath his waistcoat. “Love
-is for the light, the sunshine, and the sea.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nothing for it but the Cosmopolis, Brighton.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Right—every time. Marvellous Lotharios! Every
-time right. The Cosmopolis, Brighton. I shan’t forget—write
-it down, some one, ’case I do. Hullo, that
-you Quiltan?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Lane Quiltan, who had entered the room five minutes
-earlier, nodded.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Made an appointment, and you didn’t turn up.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Lost a fine chance! Might have had an interest in
-something of mine.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Might I?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Had your chance—didn’t take it. Too late now!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Is it?” said Quiltan.</p>
-
-<div><span class='pageno' title='321' id='Page_321'></span><h1>PART EIGHT<br/> <span class='sub-head'>THE LEAP</span></h1></div>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>I</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Clementine Rendall lay in bed and
-watched the sun-patterns of the string-coloured
-pile carpet. The birds on the lettuce-green
-trees of Kensington Square sang gaily of summer and
-their adventurous flights from the roof of John Barker’s
-to the happy hunting ground of Earl’s Court. It was
-a good day, he reflected, a day full of scent and harmony,
-and yet for some reason he felt oppressed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Parsons,” he said, as his man entered with a small
-tea-tray. “Parsons, I have an impression that I am
-not going to enjoy myself.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I hope that won’t be so, sir.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“So do I, Parsons; but I fear the worst. How old
-am I?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Fifty-one and three months.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s not very old—but it’s too old!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“For what, sir?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know. But I should like always to be young
-enough to go courting when summer’s here. Dreadful
-thing when one loses the inclination to court, isn’t it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I couldn’t say, sir.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then you’re not fifty-one.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That was not my meaning.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Seems to me, if one can’t go courting oneself one
-should show the lanes to others. Know any one, Parsons,
-to whom I could show the lanes? I’d be an awful good
-guide.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I rather fancy, sir, young folk find ’em pretty easy
-without help.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re wrong there—they don’t—least some don’t;
-they stick to the barren moor and the wind-swept places.
-Not very good tea this morning, Parsons.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m sorry, sir.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ’Twouldn’t have been good, anyhow. I’m in for
-a bad day. I can feel it in my bones.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Parsons laid out a tweed suit and a cheerful necktie,
-and placed a silk dressing-gown over the bedrail.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ready for your bath, sir?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, turn it on.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Parsons retired and returned a few moments later
-with the announcement:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A gentleman has called to see you, sir. I told him
-you wasn’t up, but he asked permission to wait.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Who is he?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Mr. Lane Quiltan, sir.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Quiltan, oh, yes—yes, wrote that play at the—.
-What’s he after?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know, sir. Looked a bit worried, I thought.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh! I don’t know the fellar. What’s he like?
-Think he’d care for me in my dressing-gown?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I could ask, sir.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, ask, and tell him if he wants me in a suit he
-can’t have me at all.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Clementine Rendall swung his feet to the floor as
-the door closed and felt for his slippers. He pulled
-on the bandanna dressing-gown, lit a cigarette, and
-combed his hair. As he did so he sang cheerfully a
-song written to the occasion:</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>“I don’t know the fellar,</p>
-<p class='line0'>I don’t know the fellar,</p>
-<p class='line0'>I don’t know the fellar,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Or who the hell he is.”</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='pindent'>At the conclusion he became aware of the reflection
-of a stranger in the mirror.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hullo! Mr. Quiltan,” he said. “Excuse my song—went
-with the comb strokes. Liked your play no end—top
-hole! Sit down, won’t you. What you come to
-see me for, eh?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Quiltan hesitated.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s difficult to answer,” he replied, “for really I
-don’t know.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s the style. Just a friendly visit.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not altogether. I want to talk to some one—and I
-chose you. I’m in love.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I envy you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You needn’t, for I’m as miserable as hell.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s all a part of it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And I don’t know what to do.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s all a part of it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t you want to know with whom I’m in love?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Does it concern me?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“In a way it does.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Fire ahead.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Wynne Rendall is your nephew, isn’t he? I’m in
-love with his wife.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Clementine shot a quick, fierce glance at his visitor.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh! Well, hadn’t you better get over it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m not sure that I want to. Not at all sure.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then I’m glad you came to see me. Why did you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Your name occurred last night. She said that you
-understood. Well, I want you to understand, that’s
-all; to understand that, if anything goes wrong, it’s her
-husband’s fault, not hers.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And not yours?” The question was very direct.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, by God, I believe not mine either. I want her
-to be happy—I think of nothing else.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And isn’t she?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You know the life she’s led!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Doesn’t that answer the question? He treats her as
-if she didn’t exist. I verily believe he isn’t even conscious
-of her.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Is she in love with you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Quiltan hesitated. “Not yet—but I think I could
-make her.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ha! Make her love you that you may make her
-happy, eh? Roundabout scheme, isn’t it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“She shall be happy. I’m determined on that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re very sympathetic.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I am.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Clem’s voice softened.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I believe you are,” he said. “Tell me—what’s the
-trouble there?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s cheated her, and used her as a ladder to climb
-from her world. It’s a damnable enough story—d’you
-want to hear it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No—no—no. I can fill in the gaps. But look here!
-D’you think a lover will make up for what she’s lost?
-And are you sure she has lost? That’s the point to decide.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say he ignores her—isn’t conscious of her⁠—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But imagine what might happen if he were.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He never will be.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re very sure.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Absolutely.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How long have you known her?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We met first last Friday.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And today’s Thursday. Six days?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We’ve met every day since.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Does he know that?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Tell him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why should I?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You said you wanted her to be happy.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I do, but why should I tell him?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Love is a light sleeper—who wakes very easily.
-Tell him—wake him up. The boy is drunk with success—blind
-drunk. Are you going to steal from a blind
-man?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I shan’t tell him,” said Quiltan, slowly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, because you’re a coward. Frightened of losing
-ground. Her happiness! You don’t give a damn for it
-beside your own.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s not true. If I refuse to tell him, it’s because
-he wouldn’t care if I did. God! he isn’t even faithful
-to her.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Clementine Rendall sprang to his feet and dropped a
-hand on Quiltan’s shoulder.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re inventing it—inventing it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. He boasted at the club the other night of a girl
-he would take to Brighton.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He was drunk.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He had been drinking.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Who listens to a drunken man?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He was sober enough to mean it. Besides, it’s true.
-I know the girl—Esme Waybury, a pretty, flaxen little
-strumpet—week-end wife to any bidder—understudying
-at the theatre. You needn’t doubt the facts. Half the
-company knows by this time.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Clem rapped his closed fist upon the table.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I hate this,” he exclaimed, “hate it! What will she
-do—Eve?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“God knows. It’ud be the last knock. God knows
-how she’ll take it. Anything might happen—she’s extraordinary,
-and she’s counted on him so much—built
-up a future of hopes. It’s pitiable. If he fails her altogether⁠—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“If?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“As he will tomorrow night.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Tss!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sounds sordid enough, doesn’t it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, what then?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“As I said—anything. She might jump off a bridge.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Or fall into your arms, eh?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They are waiting.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>For a moment or two Clementine paced the floor of
-the bedroom, his brows creased and his chin down.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where’s it all going to lead? How are we going to
-pull ’em out?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Them?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. For the boy’s worth saving when he comes to
-life. I’m sorry for him—damn sorry.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Think he’s worth it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Worth it? Of course he’s worth it. One can see—you
-can’t, perhaps, but I can—why this has happened.
-She knows too. One gets a true perspective right down
-the aisle of all those straining, striving years through
-which he struggled. A boy of no physique, whose mind
-was a great question-mark, and a mighty desire to find
-the answer. That was all that mattered—Nature could
-go hang. He’s dragooned that body of his to carry the
-mind to the places where the answers might be found—worked,
-toiled, sweated, starved for that ideal, asking
-no help, accepting no charity, driving, driving forward
-on the fuel of his own brain. Then she came—the all-understanding
-she—and took half the burden from his
-shoulders, and built up his neglected body to the likeness
-of a man. Nature was coming back! She knew
-his ideals, and wanted him to realize them—gave up herself
-that he might realize them, for there was a promise
-in his eyes that she and the ideals might be one.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Will it come true?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“God knows; but He does not put promises there for
-nothing. It’s all outside their reach now. Now Nature
-is taking a hand—cruel, tempting, thrilling old Nature.
-She’s found the untried subject, and is whispering her
-thousand impulses in his ear. Take your mind back,
-Quiltan. Can’t you remember how it was? Can’t you
-recall the first pretty face you kissed, for no better reason
-than a whisper of Nature’s that today it would be
-different from what it had been before. And wasn’t
-it different? And didn’t Nature whisper to you that
-night of a thousand other differences? And didn’t you
-tremble and wonder, and wasn’t curiosity alive in you?
-Oh, man, it comes to all of us sooner or later, and the
-later it comes the more devil there is to pay. A boy
-is young enough to be afraid and old enough to live
-clean; but a man is not afraid, and when his passions
-come to life they rule him through and through, and
-no damned power on earth can turn them aside.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There isn’t much hope, then, for her.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It looks like that. But we’ve got to try.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Are you going to see him?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not for an instant.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then what?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t know. Perhaps something will turn up. But
-you’ll give her her chance?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Quiltan hesitated.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on, man!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Very well.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Word of honour?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Word of honour.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good. Where can I find you tomorrow?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’ve got my card. I’ll stop in all day.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There’s a good chap.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Quiltan rose and moved toward the door.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good-bye, then.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ’Bye.”</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>II</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne rose from the breakfast table and took a step
-toward the window. Then he turned abruptly, as a man
-will who has something important to say.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” said Eve.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He shook his head. “Nothing. I—er. No, nothing.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was the first time he had spoken that morning.
-They had sat opposite each other in silence, and three
-times he had opened his lips as if about to speak, only
-to close them again.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They were both near, perilously near, saying many
-things to each other, but that unexplainable conversational
-barrier which holds up the traffic of speech had
-risen between them. For six days it had been thus, six
-days in which they had not expressed a word that was
-not commonplace.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>That night at the club it had seemed easy enough to
-Wynne to come and tell his wife that red blood was
-coursing in his veins, and white carelessness had thrown
-an arm about his shoulders. It had seemed a simple
-and an honest confession. She was concerned in him,
-and had a right to know. Yet try as he would his pluck
-broke down before the ordeal. He could do no more
-than look at her furtively and postpone.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne hated himself when he shirked a deed. Want
-of courage galled him, and the knowledge that he lacked
-the temerity to put his intentions into words seemed
-to clip the wings of the new mad impulses which possessed
-him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>All the while Eve knew there was something he
-wanted to say, but she could not fathom what manner
-of thing it might be. Thus from his silence grew her
-own, each waiting for the other to begin.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The day before he had telephoned to the Cosmopolis
-for rooms. He and Esme were going down by the 9.15
-that night. As an understudy it was easy for her to be
-released from appearing at the theatre on the Saturday.
-If Eve were to be told it would have to be at once,
-for the appointment with the British Drama Association
-was at eleven o’clock.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He put a cigarette in his mouth and tapped his pocket
-for matches.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Empty,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll get you some.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Doesn’t matter.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m going to the kitchen with these things.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As she went from the room carrying the tray he
-noticed how shabby she was. He was not irritated, but
-it seemed wrong, somehow. Presently she returned and
-laid a box of matches on the table.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thanks. I—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I shall want a box. I’m just going out.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I see.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Got to—er—see some people. Might be rather good.
-Do my play, perhaps, and a big production job. Quite
-good, it might be.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m glad.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. ’Pointment at eleven. There’s—er—. Didn’t
-you want some furniture for this place?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” said Eve.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thought you said—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I may have done—but—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No reason why you shouldn’t have it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A vague hope took shape, but it was too vague to risk
-encouraging him to say more. Often before the hope
-had arisen, only to fall to dust.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She made no answer.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No reason at all why you shouldn’t have it,” he repeated,
-“or any clothes you want. Don’t you want
-some clothes? You do.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Still she made no answer.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I want clothes—yes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, get them, I mean.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Is that all—all you mean?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, I think so.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t want any clothes,” said Eve.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He looked at her uneasily, then at his watch.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I ought to be off.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She nodded.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Shall you be back?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He hesitated.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Probably; but don’t keep anything for me if I’m
-late. I may—be late.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As the door closed Eve said, very gently:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, we’re having a hell of a life.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne went to his bedroom and pulled out a drawer.
-He threw a shirt or two and some collars on to the bed,
-then rummaged for a suit case behind the dressing-table.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Damn the things, I can buy what I want,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Eve heard the front door slam a moment later.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>III</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At the offices of the New British Drama Association
-Wynne met some important gentlemen, and the words
-they spoke acted upon him like good red wine.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s an astonishing play,” said Mr. Howard Delvin,
-who was not given to encomiums. “So astonishing that
-we propose to use it for our opening event.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I thought <span class='it'>you’d</span> like it, Mr. Delvin,” said Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t like it—I dislike it very much indeed. I
-said it was an astonishing play, and that is exactly what
-I meant. Your wit is positively polar, there is no other
-word; and your philosophy is glacial—with all the hard,
-clear transparence of ice. My personal inclination is
-to put the whole play in a stewpan and boil it, for if
-any man were clever enough to raise its temperature to
-blood heat he would have achieved a play—I say it
-in all sincerity—of incomparable worth. However,
-we’re satisfied, and now well see if we can satisfy
-you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>When Wynne departed from that erudite circle he felt
-almost sublime—like nightingales sang their words of
-praise. A wild elation prompted him to sing, to dance,
-to fill his lungs with the thin air of the high peaks to
-which he had leapt. With youth in one hand and success
-in the other there were no limits to the achievements
-which might be his.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He felt a frenzied desire to celebrate—to celebrate
-wildly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He lunched at Scott’s, and ordered a lobster, because
-its livery was scarlet, and a rare champagne, because
-it beat against the glass. He pledged himself and the
-future—the broad, untrammelled future—and drank
-damnation to the cobwebs of dull care.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The wine fired his brain and imagination, restocked
-his courage, and set his heart a-thumping.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Paper and an envelope and some Napoleon brandy,”
-he called to the waiter. And when these were brought:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I was a waiter once—just such a fellow as yourself—a
-very devil of a waiter. Here’s a sovereign. Go
-and be happy.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The white paper lay before him, and he dashed a
-dozen careless words across its surface. The envelope
-he addressed to his wife.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Here,” he cried, “send that along in an hour or
-two. God bless you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He rose and pushed his way through the swing doors.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>IV</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Clementine Rendall spent the morning in a peculiar
-fashion. He first called on his banker, and, armed with
-many banknotes, took a cab to the Vandyke Theatre.
-At the stage door he inquired for Miss Esme Waybury.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Just gone,” said the doorkeeper, “half an hour
-ago.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Unfortunate. Now I wonder when I could see her.
-Comes out about eleven at night, I s’pose?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Get out ’bout nine. Understudyin’, she is.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I wonder if you could ask her to wait a little tonight.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The doorkeeper negatived the idea: “Wouldn’t be
-any good. She’s a-goin’ to Brighton by the 9.15, and
-won’t be back till Monday. Ast me to have a cab
-ready.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I see. ’Safternoon I’m engaged. But you could
-give me her address, no doubt.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Couldn’t. ’Tisn’t allowed.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nonsense. I’m her uncle. Right to know.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He produced silver in generous quantities, to which
-the doorkeeper succumbed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Miss Esme had a flat in Maida Vale, whither Clementine
-Rendall proceeded with all dispatch.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In the taxi he reflected that he had set himself a foolish
-and a hopeless task. Even supposing he succeeded in
-buying off Miss Esme, nothing would have been
-achieved. To postpone a crisis is not to avert it. Accordingly
-he thrust his head from the window and addressed
-the driver:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Look here—I don’t want to go to Maida Vale.
-Drive me to Whatshisname Mansions—one of the turnings
-off Baker Street. I’ll rap on the glass to show
-you.” And as he subsided on the cushions again:
-“Heaven knows what I shall do when I get there.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He found a porter, who directed him to Wynne’s
-flat, and though assailed by many doubts, he beat a
-cheerful tattoo upon the knocker.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hullo!” he exclaimed, when Eve opened the door.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Can you do with a visitor?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Without waiting for the answer he kissed her very
-cordially, and putting a friendly arm round her
-shoulders carried her off to the sitting-room.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“As you never come and see me I came to see you,”
-he announced. “Well, how’s things?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, they are all right.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There was a restraint in her manner, which even his
-cheeriness was unable to break down. He could feel a
-sense of crisis in the atmosphere.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And Wynne?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s out.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Out to lunch?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Brain storm!—we’ll go out too.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You and I?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“As ever is! Get yer hat.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Eve hesitated. “I—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t tell me you haven’t a hat.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She laughed. “No; but it’s so long since I went out
-to lunch, probably I shouldn’t know how to behave.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I never could,” he answered. “Eat peas with my
-knife, talk with my mouth full—never was such a fellar
-as me. Come on—lively does it. What ’ud you like to
-do afterwards?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Anything.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ’Cos I’ve an idea—more’n that, I’ve the means of
-carrying it out. Listen to the program: Taxi; a sole
-and a cutlet at the Berkeley Grill, with just a little
-Rhine wine to help it along. Then what? I suggest
-a picture gallery, and you nod—I suggest a theatre, and
-you nod a bit more agreeably. Finally, I suggest a
-shopping excursion up Bond Street and down Regent
-Street, with a taxi rolling from door to door to carry
-the parcels; at this you nod vigorously—and perhaps
-you smile. You shall have a Crême de Cacao after
-your ice, and then you <span class='it'>will</span> smile. The third and last
-proposal is carried unanimously, and before we start
-we make out a complete trousseau on the back of the
-menu card. Outside and inside we’ll get the lot. What
-do you say?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Eve leant over and touched his hand.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It sounds so lovely,” she said in a trembling voice;
-“but what do I want with a trousseau?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Want with it? Every one wants a trousseau.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“If anybody cared how you looked in it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Uncle Clem’s forehead clouded, and his eyes rested
-upon her. As he looked he noted how sadly she was
-dressed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Little Eve,” he said, “has he ever seen you in a
-trousseau? I mean—look here, my dear, we men are
-such poor trivial, sleepy beings. We only wake up when
-something bangs us in the eye. Have you never thought
-it might be worth while to bang him in the eye with all
-that beauty of yours in the setting it deserves? You see
-we get used to things as they are, and never bother
-our heads with things as they might be. Don’t answer.
-I know it’s all quite indefensible, and I know you know
-it too. But just for fun—for a lark—a spree, let’s go
-out and do this thing. He’ll be in later, yes?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He said he would come to dinner.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then we’ll fill in the time between then and now,
-and I’ll take charge.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Eve stood up suddenly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why—why do you always make me feel it will be
-all right?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It will. There, be off and get your hat.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Very well.” At the door she turned. “I have a
-frock if you’ll let me put it on. You won’t have to
-take me out in this old thing.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Have you worn it for him?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Silly girl. Wear it for me, then. I’ll wait.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As the door closed he muttered to himself:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Wonder why the devil I’m buoying up her hopes.
-Wonder where we’ll be this time tomorrow?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Clementine Rendall was a wonderful host, and he
-ordered the most delicious luncheon. He and monsieur,
-the faultless monsieur, laid their heads together and
-made decisions over the menu with a deliberation Downing
-Street might have envied. Monsieur would touch
-the title of some precious dish with the extreme point
-of pencil, and Clem would nod or query the suggestion.
-At last the decision was made, brought up for amendment,
-and finally approved.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The cooking was incomparable, and Uncle Clem
-matched his spirits to its perfection. Gradually he
-drew Eve out, and by the time the last course was set
-before them she was full of exquisite plans for the things
-they would buy together. The harmony of the surroundings,
-the attention, the good food, and the subtle
-white wine worked a miracle of change. Her eyes softened
-and took fresh lustre, her cheeks glowed with a
-gentle colour, and her voice warmed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Noting these matters Uncle Clem was glad, but feared
-greatly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Now for the shops,” she said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They had scarcely turned the corner of Piccadilly before
-he rapped against the glass of the taxi.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Barrett’s!” he cried; “we mustn’t pass poor old
-Barrett’s without giving them a look in.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Next instant they were in those pleasant leather-smelling
-showrooms, and an attentive assistant was directing
-their gaze to rows of dressing bags, both great
-and small.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Make your choice—mustn’t lose time.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Am I really to have one of those bright bottley
-things?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ’Course you are; what’s old Barrett run the place
-for? Choose, and quick about it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Long economy prompted Eve to decide upon the
-smallest and cheapest. Whereupon Clementine pointed
-to another with his stick, and cried:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sling it in the taxi—you know me! Right! On
-we go.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But he did not go on before he had purchased a great
-spray of malmaisons at Solomon’s.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hats, dresses, and all the rest of it! Bond Street,
-cabby.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In Bond Street he was at his best. He insisted on
-following Eve through all manner of extraordinary departments.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, go on with you. I’m old enough to have been
-married years ago. I’ll look out of the window if you
-like—but if the bill ain’t big enough I shall turn round.
-Get busy!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Infected by his enthusiasm Eve got busy, and two
-great boxes of exquisite frillies floated down to the
-taxi.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“When we’ve filled this cab we’ll get another,” he
-declared as they clambered in and took their seats.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At Redfern’s, in Conduit Street, he showed that he
-was a man of discrimination. He paraded the <span class='it'>mannequins</span>,
-and bought four dresses after a deal of inspection
-and deliberation.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But four’s such a heap!” said Eve.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nonsense. I’ll make it six if you say another word.
-Here, bundle off and put on that fawn thing—know it’ll
-suit you—want to see how you look! I’ll go and choose
-hats. I’m a whaler on hats.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>So while she changed he went off hatting, to the great
-joy of the department, and returned with many.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Eve was very quick, and as she came from the little
-changing-room he had a wild desire to cheer.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Lord! You look lovely! Here, try some of these.
-Ain’t I a chooser? This one! Ain’t it a tartar—the
-very devil of a little hat.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He was right.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It!” he cried. “It! Clicks with the dress every
-time! Keep it on. Here, some of you kind young
-ladies, this lot for the taxi. Bill! Splendid.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He shovelled out a handful of notes and they followed
-their purchases to the street.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No more,” begged Eve, between laughter and tears.
-“Not any more today.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Gloves—shoes—’brollies must be bought.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He was inexorable, and it was six o’clock before the
-laden taxi rolled them to the door of the Mansions.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’ve given me my most wonderful day,” she said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You child!” he answered, and pressed her hand.
-“There are lots more wonderful days ahead—remember
-that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Then he and she, and the driver, each burdened sky-high
-with packages, mounted the stairs to the flat.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As Uncle Clem paid the fare, Eve stooped and picked
-up a note from the door-mat. She opened it as he closed
-the door.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“God!” she said, in a very little voice.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He took the note and read it.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>V</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Twenty minutes later Clementine Rendall was hammering
-on Quiltan’s front door.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He had seen what to do. It had come to him very suddenly
-with all the force of a strong white light. He
-had made no attempt to comfort Eve—she had not
-needed that. Wynne Rendall’s note had done its work
-strangely. At the death of her hopes Eve had laughed
-a careless, wanton laugh. It was the laugh which gave
-him the idea.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Mr. Quiltan—at once!” he said to the servant who
-opened the door.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well?” said Quiltan.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re in love with Eve?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Will you run away with her—now?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Now?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“At once. Go and make love to her. Don’t be
-frightened, it will be quite easy. She knows. Then
-take her away.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But I don’t understand.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Have you got a car?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Order it. Pack her inside and get away to
-Brighton.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Brighton?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I said so—the Cosmopolis.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But good God! he’s going there.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“She doesn’t know that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Have you gone mad?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thought you wanted her to be happy?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I do.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thought you were prepared to give her the chance.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, but—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then do as I say. Take her to Brighton. She’ll
-go—give her supper in the public room at 10.30. Don’t
-look so blank, man. After all, it’s ten to one against,
-and the odds are with you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Quiltan hesitated. “It’s so extraordinary.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Quiltan! if you refuse to do this thing I’ll shoot
-you—by God! I believe I will.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Quiltan rang the bell.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I want the car,” he said—“immediately—and—and
-a suit case.”</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>VI</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Eve scarcely spoke in the car as they drove over the
-long, undulating road to Brighton. When Quiltan came
-to the flat he found her with a queer hard light in her
-eyes. She nodded in a detached kind of way when he
-told her he knew. In the same detached way she
-listened to his half-scared, wholly genuine, protestations
-of love. She even allowed him to kiss her.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I want you to come with me,” he had said—“to come
-away now.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>And with a fierceness which astonished him she had
-answered:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes—yes— I don’t care—I will—will. Seems
-rather funny to me! All right. I’ve heaps of clothes—I’ll
-come—yes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At Crawley a tyre burst, and it took nearly an hour
-to wake up a garage and procure a new outer cover.
-It was after 10.30 when they drew up before the Cosmopolis,
-with all its naughty lights winking at the sea.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Eve laughed as they stood in the foyer, and the porter
-brought in her beautiful new suit case.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t,” said Quiltan.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>For the first time she seemed aware of his presence,
-and turned with kindlier light in her eyes.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m sorry. I’m not playing the game, am I? But
-it <span class='it'>does</span> seem funny. I suppose we have supper now.
-Will you wait, and I’ll run up and put on a pretty frock
-for you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He would have stopped her, but she was gone with the
-words.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Rather nervously he entered the great dining-hall and
-ordered a table for two. There were many guests
-present, and his eyes travelled quickly from table to
-table. Wynne was nowhere to be seen, and with this a
-sudden intolerable excitement seized him. It was short-lived,
-however, for his next glance lighted on the fluffy
-head of little Miss Esme, her eyes demurely lowered over
-a dessert plate. Facing her, with his back to Quiltan,
-sat Wynne. They were some distance away, and while
-the room was crowded it was impossible to see them from
-the table he had taken.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Quiltan took a cigarette from his case and passed out
-to wait for Eve.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As she stepped from the lift he thought her the most
-wonderful being he had ever seen. Fragile—adorable—desirable—everything
-to set a man’s heart on fire.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>With a passion he could not control he whispered:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You dear, beautiful—beautiful dear!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Her answering smile seemed to come from a long way
-off.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They took their places, hers looking in the direction of
-Wynne’s table, and a busy waiter approached:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ah, in one minute the supper. Wine? Cliquot
-ver’ good.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Champagne?” queried Quiltan.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I suppose so—yes, of course.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He gave the order.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A <span class='it'>consommé</span> was brought in little cups. Presently a
-cork popped into a serviette and the creaming wine
-tinkled into the glasses. A few guests at the neighbouring
-table rose and left, one or two others following
-their example.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The company began to thin out, and vistas occurred
-through which one could see people in other parts of
-the room. The conversation lost its general constant
-hum and became isolated and more individual.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>VII</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You are a quiet old boy, aren’t you?” whispered
-Miss Esme.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne started and raised his head.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What—what’s that?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say you are quiet.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, yes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Funny old boy!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He called a waiter.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Get me some more cigarettes—these little boxes hold
-none at all.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You smoke too much.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He played with a cold cigarette-end upon his plate.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You simply haven’t stopped.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say”—she whispered it—“isn’t it lovely being
-down here—just we two?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Um.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He crumbled a piece of bread, then swept the crumbs
-to the floor. He shot a quick glance at her, lowered
-his eyes, picked up the cigarette-end again, and drew
-with it upon his plate.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Wish that waiter would do what he is told.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Esme sighed and stole a shy glance at the clock.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Isn’t it getting late?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Is it? I don’t know—I’m a late person. Ah, that’s
-better!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He took the cigarettes from the waiter and lighted
-one.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>When the man had gone, Esme remarked:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Everybody seems to be going away. Nobody left
-soon—but us.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“H’m.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I love Brighton. Don’t you love the sea? I do—and
-the hills—oh, I love the hills!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Quite suddenly Wynne said:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Must you talk such a lot?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh,” said Esme, “you old cross patch.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A party of people at a round table in the centre of
-the room rose and moved toward the door.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>VIII</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Eve and Quiltan sat in silence as course after course
-was brought to them. His few efforts to talk had broken
-down, and all he could do was to look at her—look at
-this woman who <span class='it'>might</span> become his.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As the party from the round table passed them by
-he said:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Emptying now.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Eve roused herself, and her eyes wandered round the
-room. Suddenly she leant forward with a sharp little
-gasp in her throat.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What is it?” said Quiltan, although he knew.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She ignored his question. Her eyes were wide open
-and bright. Then she laughed a cold, quick laugh.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m glad,” she whispered—“yes, I’m glad—glad.
-Look!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She did not notice if he acted well or ill when he
-saw the sight he had expected to see.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What are you going to do?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know—don’t care.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She did not move her eyes from Wynne’s table, and
-after a moment a puzzled look came into her face. She
-had recognized his attitude. He always sat like that,
-with his head down and his fingers fidgeting, when he
-was irritated. But why now? A sudden insane desire
-possessed her to spring to her feet and cry aloud.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Then Esme’s eyes, wandering once more toward the
-clock, met hers, and in an instant Eve smiled and
-bowed. Esme looked surprised, and Eve smiled again.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Some one over there knows me,” said Esme, “but
-I don’t know her. No, you mustn’t look, ’cos she’s too
-pretty.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne turned slowly in the direction indicated, and
-saw. His napkin dropped to the floor, and unsteadily
-he rose to his feet. He rubbed one hand over his eyes
-as though to clear the vision. He took a few quick
-steps to the centre of the room—stopped—then came
-on again.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>And all the while Eve kept her eyes on his.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Beside her table he stopped, and looked from one to
-the other, his mouth twitching and his face strangely
-white.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes—well?” he said, as if expecting they would be
-ready with explanation.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What are you doing here?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Or you?” she answered.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What’s <span class='it'>he</span> doing?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Or <span class='it'>she</span>?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Can’t you see?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We said when we took the leap we’d take it together.
-We are.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Quiltan rose and moved a little away.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I shall want you,” whispered Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, you won’t,” said Eve.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Quiltan walked from the room. In the hall he waited
-indecisively. Then he remembered the flash of a light
-seen in Wynne’s eyes—a light of possession—wild, primal,
-outraged possession. He drew a quick conclusion.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m no good,” he thought. Then, turning to the
-porter, “I want that car of mine.” He waited in the
-porch until it came.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Wynne jerked his head toward the door.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Out of this,” he said. “Can’t talk here.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He moved to the half-light of a deserted winter garden
-beyond the dining-hall, and suddenly he spoke, very
-fast and hoarsely:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You and that fellar—wasn’t true!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes it was.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“God!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why not?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“God! But you’re mine.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You say that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Mine.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“In what possible way?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You are—you are! My woman—mine!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And that other one?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That! Nothing—it’s you—you!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He clenched and unclenched his hands. Then caught
-at a random hope:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You knew I was here—came because of that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She shook her head.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You did.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I came with him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>His hands fell on her shoulders and shook her fiercely.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“For Christ’s sake! no, that’s not the reason!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The wild agony in his voice started the honest answer:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I came because of what you’re doing.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He stopped, caught his breath, took fresh fear, and
-sobbed out:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But—but you’ve never looked—like this before—you
-never looked like this for <span class='it'>me</span>.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Did you ever want me to look like this for you?
-Did you ever—— Oh—oh—oh!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She turned, covered her eyes with her hands, and
-fell sobbing on to a chair.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>And he fell on his knees beside her, and fought to
-draw away her hands, calling:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, God! I haven’t lost you! For God’s sake!—for
-Christ’s sake!—I haven’t lost you!”</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>IX</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Miss Esme sat at her table wearing an expression of
-absolute amazement. A slight but growing tendency
-toward tears emphasized itself in her small and brittle
-soul. She, of all the guests, remained in the room.
-Presently the lights were lowered one by one, and presently
-an elderly gentleman detached himself from a
-shadowy seat in a window corner and came toward her.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t you think you’d better be going?” he said,
-in the kindliest possible way.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Esme started.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I beg your pardon—n-no, I must wait for my husband.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Dear me! I shouldn’t do that, because—I mean—after
-all—you haven’t one—and he has a wife already.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh!” she exclaimed, “then that—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Quite so. Splendid, isn’t it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But—who are you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Just a friend.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Of course,” said Esme, trying to recover a grain of
-lost prestige. “I hadn’t any idea he was married.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ’Course not. Not in the least to blame.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Fancy his being married!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m doing that,” said Clem, with rather a wonderful
-expression on his face. “But, look here, suppose
-we do the rest of our fancyin’ in the 12.30 to town?
-Nice time to catch it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, I can’t stop here, can I?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Wouldn’t do.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They had a first-class compartment all to themselves,
-and Uncle Clem made a most favourable impression
-upon Miss Esme. She thought him such a nice old gentleman.
-He talked of such pleasant things in such a
-pleasant way. He wasn’t a bit prudish, and seemed
-to think she had done perfectly right in coming away
-with Wynne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Still, I do think it was very wrong of him, as he
-was married,” she said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes—yes—yes. Still, it’s a queer world. You see
-he may have forgotten he was married—some folk do.
-He may never really have known—but he <span class='it'>will</span> know.
-My dear, it isn’t until we realize the wonder of another
-that we become wonderful ourselves. You don’t know
-what you’ve done for that young man.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Somehow I don’t believe I should like to have married
-him,” said Esme, thoughtfully.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You don’t! No! Well, there you are, you see!
-Yet somebody is always wanted by somebody else, and
-that somebody else can always make that somebody into
-something. Victoria! Wouldn’t be any harm to kiss
-you good-night, would it? ’Course not! That’s right
-Splendid!”</p>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:2em;'>THE END</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk100'/>
-
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