[5200] PART IV
[5201]
[5202] I
[5203]
[5204] I HAVE, I am aware, told this story in a very rambling way so that
[5205] it may be difficult for anyone to find their path through what may
[5206] be a sort of maze. I cannot help it. I have stuck to my idea of
[5207] being in a country cottage with a silent listener, hearing between
[5208] the gusts of the wind and amidst the noises of the distant sea, the
[5209] story as it comes. And, when one discusses an affair--a long, sad
[5210] affair--one goes back, one goes forward. One remembers points
[5211] that one has forgotten and one explains them all the more minutely
[5212] since one recognizes that one has forgotten to mention them in
[5213] their proper places and that one may have given, by omitting
[5214] them, a false impression. I console myself with thinking that this
[5215] is a real story and that, after all, real stories are probably told best
[5216] in the way a person telling a story would tell them. They will then
[5217] seem most real.
[5218]
[5219] At any rate, I think I have brought my story up to the date of
[5220] Maisie Maidan's death. I mean that I have explained everything
[5221] that went before it from the several points of view that were
[5222] necessary--from Leonora's, from Edward's and, to some extent,
[5223] from my own. You have the facts for the trouble of finding them;
[5224] you have the points of view as far as I could ascertain or put them.
[5225] Let me imagine myself back, then, at the day of Maisie's death--or
[5226] rather at the moment of Florence's dissertation on the Protest, up
[5227] in the old Castle of the town of M----. Let us consider Leonora's
[5228] point of view with regard to Florence; Edward's, of course, I
[5229] cannot give you, for Edward naturally never spoke of his affair
[5230] with my wife. (I may, in what follows, be a little hard on Florence;
[5231] but you must remember that I have been writing away at this story
[5232] now for six months and reflecting longer and longer upon these
[5233] affairs.) And the longer I think about them the more certain I
[5234] become that Florence was a contaminating influence--she
[5235] depressed and deteriorated poor Edward; she deteriorated,
[5236] hopelessly, the miserable Leonora. There is no doubt that she
[5237] caused Leonora's character to deteriorate. If there was a fine point
[5238] about Leonora it was that she was proud and that she was silent.
[5239] But that pride and that silence broke when she made that
[5240] extraordinary outburst, in the shadowy room that contained the
[5241] Protest, and in the little terrace looking over the river. I don't
[5242] mean to say that she was doing a wrong thing. She was certainly
[5243] doing right in trying to warn me that Florence was making eyes at
[5244] her husband. But, if she did the right thing, she was doing it in the
[5245] wrong way. Perhaps she should have reflected longer; she should
[5246] have spoken, if she wanted to speak, only after reflection. Or it
[5247] would have been better if she had acted--if, for instance, she had
[5248] so chaperoned Florence that private communication between her
[5249] and Edward became impossible. She should have gone
[5250] eavesdropping; she should have watched outside bedroom doors.
[5251] It is odious; but that is the way the job is done. She should have
[5252] taken Edward away the moment Maisie was dead. No, she acted
[5253] wrongly. . . . And yet, poor thing, is it for me to condemn her--and
[5254] what did it matter in the end? If it had not been Florence, it would
[5255] have been some other . . . Still, it might have been a better woman
[5256] than my wife. For Florence was vulgar; Florence was a common
[5257] flirt who would not, at the last, lacher prise; and Florence was an
[5258] unstoppable talker. You could not stop her; nothing would stop
[5259] her. Edward and Leonora were at least proud and reserved people.
[5260] Pride and reserve are not the only things in life; perhaps they are
[5261] not even the best things. But if they happen to be your particular
[5262] virtues you will go all to pieces if you let them go. And Leonora let
[5263] them. go. She let them go before poor Edward did even. Consider
[5264] her position when she burst out over the Luther-Protest. . . .
[5265] Consider her agonies. . . .
[5266]
[5267] You are to remember that the main passion of her life was to get
[5268] Edward back; she had never, till that moment, despaired of getting
[5269] him back. That may seem ignoble; but you have also to remember
[5270] that her getting him back represented to her not only a victory for
[5271] herself. It would, as it appeared to her, have been a victory for all
[5272] wives and a victory for her Church. That was how it presented
[5273] itself to her. These things are a little inscrutable. I don't know why
[5274] the getting back of Edward should have represented to her a
[5275] victory for all wives, for Society and for her Church. Or, maybe, I
[5276] have a glimmering of it. She saw life as a perpetual sex-baffle
[5277] between husbands who desire to be unfaithful to their wives, and
[5278] wives who desire to recapture their husbands in the end. That was
[5279] her sad and modest view of matrimony. Man, for her, was a sort
[5280] of brute who must have his divagations, his moments of excess, his
[5281] nights out, his, let us say, rutting seasons. She had read few novels,
[5282] so that the idea of a pure and constant love succeeding the sound
[5283] of wedding bells had never been very much presented to her. She
[5284] went, numbed and terrified, to the Mother Superior of her
[5285] childhood's convent with the tale of Edward's infidelities with the
[5286] Spanish dancer, and all that the old nun, who appeared to her to
[5287] be infinitely wise, mystic and reverend, had done had been to
[5288] shake her head sadly and to say:
[5289]
[5290] "Men are like that. By the blessing of God it will all come right in
[5291] the end."
[5292]
[5293] That was what was put before her by her spiritual advisers as her
[5294] programme in life. Or, at any rate, that was how their teachings
[5295] came through to her--that was the lesson she told me she had
[5296] learned of them. I don't know exactly what they taught her. The lot
[5297] of women was patience and patience and again patience--ad
[5298] majorem Dei gloriam--until upon the appointed day, if God saw
[5299] fit, she should have her reward. If then, in the end, she should have
[5300] succeeded in getting Edward back she would have kept her man
[5301] within the limits that are all that wifehood has to expect. She was
[5302] even taught that such excesses in men are natural, excusable--as if
[5303] they had been children.
[5304]
[5305] And the great thing was that there should be no scandal before the
[5306] congregation. So she had clung to the idea of getting Edward back
[5307] with a fierce passion that was like an agony. She had looked the
[5308] other way; she had occupied herself solely with one idea. That
[5309] was the idea of having Edward appear, when she did get him
[5310] back, wealthy, glorious as it were, on account of his lands, and
[5311] upright. She would show, in fact, that in an unfaithful world one
[5312] Catholic woman had succeeded in retaining the fidelity of her
[5313] husband. And she thought she had come near her desires.
[5314]
[5315] Her plan with regard to Maisie had appeared to be working
[5316] admirably. Edward had seemed to be cooling off towards the girl.
[5317] He did not hunger to pass every minute of the time at Nauheirn
[5318] beside the child's recumbent form; he went out to polo matches;
[5319] he played auction bridge in the evenings; he was cheerful and
[5320] bright. She was certain that he was not trying to seduce that poor
[5321] child; she was beginning to think that he had never tried to do so.
[5322] He seemed in fact to be dropping back into what he had been for
[5323] Maisie in the beginning--a kind, attentive, superior officer in the
[5324] regiment, paying gallant attentions to a bride. They were as open
[5325] in their little flirtations as the dayspring from on high. And Maisie
[5326] had not appeared to fret when he went off on excursions with us;
[5327] she had to lie down for so many hours on her bed every afternoon,
[5328] and she had not appeared to crave for the attentions of Edward at
[5329] those times. And Edward was beginning to make little advances to
[5330] Leonora. Once or twice, in private--for he often did it before
[5331] people--he had said: "How nice you look!" or "What a pretty
[5332] dress!" She had gone with Florence to Frankfurt, where they dress
[5333] as well as in Paris, and had got herself a gown or two. She could
[5334] afford it, and Florence was an excellent adviser as to dress. She
[5335] seemed to have got hold of the clue to the riddle.
[5336]
[5337] Yes, Leonora seemed to have got hold of the clue to the riddle. She
[5338] imagined herself to have been in the wrong to some extent in the
[5339] past. She should not have kept Edward on such a tight rein with
[5340] regard to money. She thought she was on the right tack in letting
[5341] him--as she had done only with fear and irresolution--have again
[5342] the control of bis income. He came even a step towards her and
[5343] acknowledged, spontaneously, that she had been right in
[5344] husbanding, for all those years, their resources. He said to her one
[5345] day:
[5346]
[5347] "You've done right, old girl. There's nothing I like so much as to
[5348] have a little to chuck away. And I can do it, thanks to you."
[5349]
[5350] That was really, she said, the happiest moment of her life. And he,
[5351] seeming to realize it, had ventured to pat her on the shoulder. He
[5352] had, ostensibly, come in to borrow a safety-pin of her. And the
[5353] occasion of her boxing Maisie's ears, had, after it was over,
[5354] riveted in her mind the idea that there was no intrigue between
[5355] Edward and Mrs Maidan. She imagined that, from henceforward,
[5356] all that she had to do was to keep him well supplied with money
[5357] and his mind amused with pretty girls. She was convinced that he
[5358] was coming back to her. For that month she no longer repelled his
[5359] timid advances that never went very far. For he certainly made
[5360] timid advances. He patted her on the shoulder; he whispered into
[5361] her ear little jokes about the odd figures that they saw up at the
[5362] Casino. It was not much to make a little joke--but the whispering
[5363] of it was a precious intimacy. . . .
[5364]
[5365] And then--smash--it all went. It went to pieces at the moment
[5366] when Florence laid her hand upon Edward's wrist, as it lay on the
[5367] glass sheltering the manuscript of the Protest, up in the high tower
[5368] with the shutters where the sunlight here and there streamed in.
[5369] Or, rather, it went when she noticed the look in Edward's eyes as
[5370] he gazed back into Florence's. She knew that look.
[5371]
[5372] She had known--since the first moment of their meeting, since the
[5373] moment of our all sitting down to dinner together--that Florence
[5374] was making eyes at Edward. But she had seen so many women
[5375] make eyes at Edward--hundreds and hundreds of women, in
[5376] railway trains, in hotels, aboard liners, at street corners. And she
[5377] had arrived at thinking that Edward took little stock in women
[5378] that made eyes at him. She had formed what was, at that time, a
[5379] fairly correct estimate of the methods of, the reasons for, Edward's
[5380] loves. She was certain that hitherto they had consisted of the short
[5381] passion for the Dolciquita, the real sort of love for Mrs Basil, and
[5382] what she deemed the pretty courtship of Maisie Maidan. Besides
[5383] she despised Florence so haughtily that she could not imagine
[5384] Edward's being attracted by her. And she and Maisie were a sort
[5385] of bulwark round him. She wanted, besides, to keep her eyes on
[5386] Florence--for Florence knew that she had boxed Maisie's ears.
[5387] And Leonora desperately desired that her union with Edward
[5388] should appear to be flawless. But all that went. . . .
[5389]
[5390] With the answering gaze of Edward into Florence's blue and
[5391] uplifted eyes, she knew that it had all gone. She knew that that
[5392] gaze meant that those two had had long conversations of an
[5393] intimate kind--about their likes and dislikes, about their natures,
[5394] about their views of marriage. She knew what it meant that she,
[5395] when we all four walked out together, had always been with me
[5396] ten yards ahead of Florence and Edward. She did not imagine that
[5397] it had gone further than talks about their likes and dislikes, about
[5398] their natures or about marriage as an institution. But, having
[5399] watched Edward all her life, she knew that that laying on of
[5400] hands, that answering of gaze with gaze, meant that the thing was
[5401] unavoidable. Edward was such a serious person.
[5402]
[5403] She knew that any attempt on her part to separate those two would
[5404] be to rivet on Edward an irrevocable passion; that, as I have
[5405] before told you, it was a trick of Edward's nature to believe that
[5406] the seducing of a woman gave her an irrevocable hold over him
[5407] for life. And that touching of hands, she knew, would give that
[5408] woman an irrevocable claim--to be seduced. And she so despised
[5409] Florence that she would have preferred it to be a parlour-maid.
[5410] There are very decent parlour-maids.
[5411]
[5412] And, suddenly, there came into her mind the conviction that
[5413] Maisie Maidan had a real passion for Edward; that this would
[5414] break her heart--and that she, Leonora, would be responsible for
[5415] that. She went, for the moment, mad. She clutched me by the
[5416] wrist; she dragged me down those stairs and across that
[5417] whispering Rittersaal with the high painted pillars, the high
[5418] painted chimney-piece. I guess she did not go mad enough.
[5419]
[5420] She ought to have said:
[5421]
[5422] "Your wife is a harlot who is going to be my husband's mistress . .
[5423] ." That might have done the trick. But, even in her madness, she
[5424] was afraid to go as far as that. She was afraid that, if she did,
[5425] Edward and Florence would make a bolt of it, and that, if they did
[5426] that, she would lose forever all chance of getting him back in the
[5427] end. She acted very badly to me.
[5428]
[5429] Well, she was a tortured soul who put her Church before the
[5430] interests of a Philadelphia Quaker. That is all right--I daresay the
[5431] Church of Rome is the more important of the two.
[5432]
[5433] A week after Maisie Maidan's death she was aware that Florence
[5434] had become Edward's mistress. She waited outside Florence's door
[5435] and met Edward as he came away. She said nothing and he only
[5436] grunted. But I guess he had a bad time.
[5437]
[5438] Yes, the mental deterioration that Florence worked in Leonora was
[5439] extraordinary; it smashed up her whole life and all her chances. It
[5440] made her, in the first place, hopeless--for she could not see how,
[5441] after that, Edward could return to her--after a vulgar intrigue with
[5442] a vulgar woman. His affair with Mrs Basil, which was now all that
[5443] she had to bring, in her heart, against him, she could not find it in
[5444] her to call an intrigue. It was a love affair--a pure enough thing in
[5445] its way. But this seemed to her to be a horror--a wantonness, all
[5446] the more detestable to her, because she so detested Florence. And
[5447] Florence talked. . . .
[5448]
[5449] That was what was terrible, because Florence forced Leonora
[5450] herself to abandon her high reserve--Florence and the situation. It
[5451] appears that Florence was in two minds whether to confess to me
[5452] or to Leonora. Confess she had to. And she pitched at last on
[5453] Leonora, because if it had been me she would have had to confess
[5454] a great deal more. Or, at least, I might have guessed a great deal
[5455] more, about her "heart", and about Jimmy. So she went to Leonora
[5456] one day and began hinting and hinting. And she enraged Leonora
[5457] to such an extent that at last Leonora said:
[5458]
[5459] "You want to tell me that you are Edward's mistress. You can be. I
[5460] have no use for him." That was really a calamity for Leonora,
[5461] because, once started, there was no stopping the talking. She tried
[5462] to stop--but it was not to be done. She found it necessary to send
[5463] Edward messages through Florence; for she would not speak to
[5464] him. She had to give him, for instance, to understand that if I ever
[5465] came to know of his intrigue she would ruin him beyond repair.
[5466] And it complicated matters a good deal that Edward, at about this
[5467] time, was really a little in love with her. He thought that he had
[5468] treated her so badly; that she was so fine. She was so mournful
[5469] that he longed to comfort her, and he thought himself such a
[5470] blackguard that there was nothing he would not have done to
[5471] make amends. And Florence communicated these items of
[5472] information to Leonora.
[5473]
[5474] I don't in the least blame Leonora for her coarseness to Florence; it
[5475] must have done Florence a world of good. But I do blame her for
[5476] giving way to what was in the end a desire for
[5477] communicativeness. You see that business cut her off from her
[5478] Church. She did not want to confess what she was doing because
[5479] she was afraid that her spiritual advisers would blame her for
[5480] deceiving me. I rather imagine that she would have preferred
[5481] damnation to breaking my heart. That is what it works out at. She
[5482] need not have troubled.
[5483]
[5484] But, having no priests to talk to, she had to talk to someone, and as
[5485] Florence insisted on talking to her, she talked back, in short,
[5486] explosive sentences, like one of the damned. Precisely like one of
[5487] the damned. Well, if a pretty period in hell on this earth can spare
[5488] her any period of pain in Eternity--where there are not any
[5489] periods--I guess Leonora will escape hell fire.
[5490]
[5491] Her conversations with Florence would be like this. Florence
[5492] would happen in on her, whilst she was doing her wonderful hair,
[5493] with a proposition from Edward, who seems about that time to
[5494] have conceived the naïve idea that he might become a
[5495] polygamist. I daresay it was Florence who put it into his head.
[5496] Anyhow, I am not responsible for the oddities of the human
[5497] psychology. But it certainly appears that at about that date Edward
[5498] cared more for Leonora than he had ever done before--or, at any
[5499] rate, for a long time. And, if Leonora had been a person to play
[5500] cards and if she had played her cards well, and if she had had no
[5501] sense of shame and so on, she might then have shared Edward
[5502] with Florence until the time came for jerking that poor cuckoo out
[5503] of the nest. Well, Florence would come to Leonora with some
[5504] such proposition. I do not mean to say that she put it baldly, like
[5505] that. She stood out that she was not Edward's mistress until
[5506] Leonora said that she had seen Edward coming out of her room at
[5507] an advanced hour of the night. That checked Florence a bit; but
[5508] she fell back upon her "heart" and stuck out that she had merely
[5509] been conversing with Edward in order to bring him to a better
[5510] frame of mind. Florence had, of course, to stick to that story; for
[5511] even Florence would not have had the face to implore Leonora to
[5512] grant her favours to Edward if she had admitted that she was
[5513] Edward's mistress. That could not be done. At the same time
[5514] Florence had such a pressing desire to talk about something. There
[5515] would have been nothing else to talk about but a rapprochement
[5516] between that estranged pair. So Florence would go on babbling
[5517] and Leonora would go on brushing her hair. And then Leonora
[5518] would say suddenly something like:
[5519]
[5520] "I should think myself defiled if Edward touched me now that he
[5521] has touched you."
[5522]
[5523] That would discourage Florence a bit; but after a week or so, on
[5524] another morning she would have another try.
[5525]
[5526] And even in other things Leonora deteriorated. She had promised
[5527] Edward to leave the spending of his own income in his own
[5528] hands. And she had fully meant to do that. I daresay she would
[5529] have done it too; though, no doubt, she would have spied upon his
[5530] banking account in secret. She was not a Roman Catholic for
[5531] nothing. But she took so serious a view of Edward's unfaithfulness
[5532] to the memory of poor little Maisie that she could not trust him
[5533] any more at all .
[5534]
[5535] So when she got back to Branshaw she started, after less than a
[5536] month, to worry him about the minutest items of his expenditure.
[5537] She allowed him to draw his own cheques, but there was hardly a
[5538] cheque that she did not scrutinize--except for a private account of
[5539] about five hundred a year which, tacitly, she allowed him to keep
[5540] for expenditure on his mistress or mistresses. He had to have his
[5541] jaunts to Paris; he had to send expensive cables in cipher to
[5542] Florence about twice a week. But she worried him about his
[5543] expenditure on wines, on fruit trees, on harness, on gates, on the
[5544] account at his blacksmith's for work done to a new patent Army
[5545] stirrup that he was trying to invent. She could not see why he
[5546] should bother to invent a new Army stirrup, and she was really
[5547] enraged when, after the invention was mature, he made a present
[5548] to the War Office of the designs and the patent rights. It was a
[5549] remarkably good stirrup.
[5550]
[5551] I have told you, I think, that Edward spent a great deal of time, and
[5552] about two hundred pounds for law fees on getting a poor girl, the
[5553] daughter of one of his gardeners, acquitted of a charge of
[5554] murdering her baby. That was positively the last act of Edward's
[5555] life. It came at a time when Nancy Rufford was on her way to
[5556] India; when the most horrible gloom was over the household;
[5557] when Edward himself was in an agony and behaving as prettily as
[5558] he knew how. Yet even then Leonora made him a terrible scene
[5559] about this expenditure of time and trouble. She sort of had the
[5560] vague idea that what had passed with the girl and the rest of it
[5561] ought to have taught Edward a lesson--the lesson of economy. She
[5562] threatened to take his banking account away from him again. I
[5563] guess that made him cut his throat. He might have stuck it out
[5564] otherwise--but the thought that he had lost Nancy and that, in
[5565] addition, there was nothing left for him but a dreary, dreary
[5566] succession of days in which he could be of no public service . . .
[5567] Well, it finished him.
[5568]
[5569] It was during those years that Leonora tried to get up a love affair
[5570] of her own with a fellow called Bayham--a decent sort of fellow.
[5571] A really nice man. But the affair was no sort of success. I have
[5572] told you about it already. . . .
[5573]
[5574] II
[5575]
[5576] WELL, that about brings me up to the date of my receiving, in
[5577] Waterbury, the laconic cable from Edward to the effect that he
[5578] wanted me to go to Branshaw and have a chat. I was pretty busy at
[5579] the time and I was half minded to send him a reply cable to the
[5580] effect that I would start in a fortnight. But I was having a long
[5581] interview with old Mr Hurlbird's attorneys and immediately
[5582] afterwards I had to have a long interview with the Misses Hurlbird,
[5583] so I delayed cabling.
[5584]
[5585] I had expected to find the Misses Hurlbird excessively old--in the
[5586] nineties or thereabouts. The time had passed so slowly that I had
[5587] the impression that it must have been thirty years since I had been
[5588] in the United States. It was only twelve years. Actually Miss
[5589] Hurlbird was just sixty-one and Miss Florence Hurlbird fifty-nine,
[5590] and they were both, mentally and physically, as vigorous as could
[5591] be desired. They were, indeed, more vigorous, mentally, than
[5592] suited my purpose, which was to get away from the United States
[5593] as quickly as I could. The Hurlbirds were an exceedingly united
[5594] family--exceedingly united except on one set of points. Each of the
[5595] three of them had a separate doctor, whom they trusted
[5596] implicitly--and each had a separate attorney. And each of them
[5597] distrusted the other's doctor and the other's attorney. And,
[5598] naturally, the doctors and the attorneys warned one all the
[5599] time--against each other. You cannot imagine how complicated it
[5600] all became for me. Of course I had an attorney of my
[5601] own--recommended to me by young Carter, my Philadelphia
[5602] nephew.
[5603]
[5604] I do not mean to say that there was any unpleasantness of a
[5605] grasping kind. The problem was quite another one--a moral
[5606] dilemma. You see, old Mr Hurlbird had left all his property to
[5607] Florence with the mere request that she would have erected to him
[5608] in the city of Waterbury, Ill., a memorial that should take the form
[5609] of some sort of institution for the relief of sufferers from the heart.
[5610] Florence's money had all come to me-- and with it old Mr
[5611] Hurlbird's. He had died just five days before Florence.
[5612]
[5613] Well, I was quite ready to spend a round million dollars on the
[5614] relief of sufferers from the heart. The old gentleman had left
[5615] about a million and a half; Florence had been worth about eight
[5616] hundred thousand--and as I figured it out, I should cut up at about
[5617] a million myself. Anyhow, there was ample money. But I
[5618] naturally wanted to consult the wishes of his surviving relatives
[5619] and then the trouble really began. You see, it had been discovered
[5620] that Mr Hurlbird had had nothing whatever the matter with his
[5621] heart. His lungs had been a little affected all through his life and
[5622] he had died of bronchitis. It struck Miss Florence Hurlbird that,
[5623] since her brother had died of lungs and not of heart, his money
[5624] ought to go to lung patients. That, she considered, was what her
[5625] brother would have wished. On the other hand, by a kink, that I
[5626] could not at the time understand, Miss Hurlbird insisted that I
[5627] ought to keep the money all to myself. She said that she did not
[5628] wish for any monuments to the Hurlbird family. At the time I
[5629] thought that that was because of a New England dislike for
[5630] necrological ostentation. But I can figure out now, when I
[5631] remember certain insistent and continued questions that she put to
[5632] me, about Edward Ashburnham, that there was another idea in her
[5633] mind. And Leonora has told me that, on Florence's dressing-table,
[5634] beside her dead body, there had lain a letter to Miss Hurlbird--a
[5635] letter which Leonora posted without telling me. I don't know how
[5636] Florence had time to write to her aunt; but I can quite understand
[5637] that she would not like to go out of the world without making
[5638] some comments. So I guess Florence had told Miss Hurlbird a
[5639] good bit about Edward Ashburnham in a few scrawled words--and
[5640] that that was why the old lady did not wish the name of Hurlbird
[5641] perpetuated. Perhaps also she thought that I had earned the
[5642] Hurlbird money. It meant a pretty tidy lot of discussing, what with
[5643] the doctors warning each other about the bad effects of
[5644] discussions on the health of the old ladies, and warning me
[5645] covertly against each other, and saying that old Mr Hurlbird might
[5646] have died of heart, after all, in spite of the diagnosis of his doctor.
[5647] And the solicitors all had separate methods of arranging about
[5648] how the money should be invested and entrusted and bound.
[5649] Personally, I wanted to invest the money so that the interest could
[5650] be used for the relief of sufferers from the heart. If old Mr
[5651] Hurlbird had not died of any defects in that organ he had
[5652] considered that it was defective. Moreover, Florence had certainly
[5653] died of her heart, as I saw it. And when Miss Florence Hurlbird
[5654] stood out that the money ought to go to chest sufferers I was
[5655] brought to thinking that there ought to be a chest institution too,
[5656] and I advanced the sum that I was ready to provide to a million
[5657] and a half of dollars. That would have given seven hundred and
[5658] fifty thousand to each class of invalid. I did not want money at all
[5659] badly. All I wanted it for was to be able to give Nancy Rufford a
[5660] good time. I did not know much about housekeeping expenses in
[5661] England where, I presumed, she would wish to live. I knew that
[5662] her needs at that time were limited to good chocolates, and a good
[5663] horse or two, and simple, pretty frocks. Probably she would want
[5664] more than that later on. But even if I gave a million and a half
[5665] dollars to these institutions I should still have the equivalent of
[5666] about twenty thousand a year English, and I considered that Nancy
[5667] could have a pretty good time on that or less. Anyhow, we had a
[5668] stiff set of arguments up at the Hurlbird mansion which stands on
[5669] a bluff over the town. It may strike you, silent listener, as being
[5670] funny if you happen to be European. But moral problems of that
[5671] description and the giving of millions to institutions are
[5672] immensely serious matters in my country. Indeed, they are the
[5673] staple topics for consideration amongst the wealthy classes. We
[5674] haven't got peerage and social climbing to occupy us much, and
[5675] decent people do not take interest in politics or elderly people in
[5676] sport. So that there were real tears shed by both Miss Hurlbird and
[5677] Miss Florence before I left that city. I left it quite abruptly. Four
[5678] hours after Edward's telegram came another from Leonora, saying:
[5679] "Yes, do come. You could be so helpful." I simply told my
[5680] attorney that there was the million and a half; that he could invest
[5681] it as he liked, and that the purposes must be decided by the Misses
[5682] Hurlbird. I was, anyhow, pretty well worn out by all the
[5683] discussions. And, as I have never heard yet from the Misses
[5684] Hurlbird, I rather think that Miss Hurlbird, either by revelations or
[5685] by moral force, has persuaded Miss Florence that no memorial to
[5686] their names shall be erected in the city of Waterbury, Conn. Miss
[5687] Hurlbird wept dreadfully when she heard that I was going to stay
[5688] with the Ashburnhams, but she did not make any comments. I was
[5689] aware, at that date, that her niece had been seduced by that fellow
[5690] Jimmy before I had married her--but I contrived to produce on her
[5691] the impression that I thought Florence had been a model wife.
[5692] Why, at that date I still believed that Florence had been perfectly
[5693] virtuous after her marriage to me. I had not figured it out that she
[5694] could have played it so low down as to continue her intrigue with
[5695] that fellow under my roof. Well, I was a fool. But I did not think
[5696] much about Florence at that date. My mind was occupied with
[5697] what was happening at Branshaw. I had got it into my head that
[5698] the telegrams had something to do with Nancy. It struck me that
[5699] she might have shown signs of forming an attachment for some
[5700] undesirable fellow and that Leonora wanted me to come back and
[5701] marry her out of harm's way. That was what was pretty firmly in
[5702] my mind. And it remained in my mind for nearly ten days after my
[5703] arrival at that beautiful old place. Neither Edward nor Leonora
[5704] made any motion to talk to me about anything other than the
[5705] weather and the crops. Yet, although there were several young
[5706] fellows about, I could not see that any one in particular was
[5707] distinguished by the girl's preference. She certainly appeared illish
[5708] and nervous, except when she woke up to talk gay nonsense to
[5709] me. Oh, the pretty thing that she was. . . .
[5710]
[5711] I imagined that what must have happened was that the undesirable
[5712] young man had been forbidden the place and that Nancy was
[5713] fretting a little. What had happened was just Hell. Leonora had
[5714] spoken to Nancy; Nancy had spoken to Edward; Edward had
[5715] spoken to Leonora--and they had talked and talked. And talked.
[5716] You have to imagine horrible pictures of gloom and half lights,
[5717] and emotions running through silent nights--through whole nights.
[5718] You have to imagine my beautiful Nancy appearing suddenly to
[5719] Edward, rising up at the foot of his bed, with her long hair falling,
[5720] like a split cone of shadow, in the glimmer of a night-light that
[5721] burned beside him. You have to imagine her, a silent, a no doubt
[5722] agonized figure, like a spectre, suddenly offering herself to
[5723] him--to save his reason! And you have to imagine his frantic
[5724] refusal--and talk. And talk! My God!
[5725]
[5726] And yet, to me, living in the house, enveloped with the charm of
[5727] the quiet and ordered living, with the silent, skilled servants
[5728] whose mere laying out of my dress clothes was like a caress--to
[5729] me who was hourly with them they appeared like tender, ordered
[5730] and devoted people, smiling, absenting themselves at the proper
[5731] intervals; driving me to meets--just good people! How the
[5732] devil--how the devil do they do it?
[5733]
[5734] At dinner one evening Leonora said--she had just opened a
[5735] telegram:
[5736]
[5737] "Nancy will be going to India, tomorrow, to be with her father."
[5738]
[5739] No one spoke. Nancy looked at her plate; Edward went on eating
[5740] his pheasant. I felt very bad; I imagined that it would be up to me
[5741] to propose to Nancy that evening. It appeared to me to be queer
[5742] that they had not given me any warning of Nancy's departure--But
[5743] I thought that that was only English manners--some sort of
[5744] delicacy that I had not got the hang of. You must remember that at
[5745] that moment I trusted in Edward and Leonora and in Nancy
[5746] Rufford, and in the tranquility of ancient haunts of peace, as I had
[5747] trusted in my mother's love. And that evening Edward spoke to
[5748] me.
[5749]
[5750] What in the interval had happened had been this:
[5751]
[5752] Upon her return from Nauheim Leonora had completely broken
[5753] down--because she knew she could trust Edward. That seems odd
[5754] but, if you know anything about breakdowns, you will know that
[5755] by the ingenious torments that fate prepares for us, these things
[5756] come as soon as, a strain having relaxed, there is nothing more to
[5757] be done. It is after a husband's long illness and death that a widow
[5758] goes to pieces; it is at the end of a long rowing contest that a crew
[5759] collapses and lies forward upon its oars. And that was what
[5760] happened to Leonora.
[5761]
[5762] From certain tones in Edward's voice; from the long, steady stare
[5763] that he had given her from his bloodshot eyes on rising from the
[5764] dinner table in the Nauheim hotel, she knew that, in the affair of
[5765] the poor girl, this was a case in which Edward's moral scruples, or
[5766] his social code, or his idea that it would be playing it too low
[5767] down, rendered Nancy perfectly safe. The girl, she felt sure, was
[5768] in no danger at all from Edward. And in that she was perfectly
[5769] right. The smash was to come from herself.
[5770]
[5771] She relaxed; she broke; she drifted, at first quickly, then with an
[5772] increasing momentum, down the stream of destiny. You may put it
[5773] that, having been cut off from the restraints of her religion, for the
[5774] first time in her life, she acted along the lines of her instinctive
[5775] desires. I do not know whether to think that, in that she was no
[5776] longer herself; or that, having let loose the bonds of her standards,
[5777] her conventions and her traditions, she was being, for the first
[5778] time, her own natural self. She was torn between her intense,
[5779] maternal love for the girl and an intense jealousy of the woman
[5780] who realizes that the man she loves has met what appears to be the
[5781] final passion of his life. She was divided between an intense
[5782] disgust for Edward's weakness in conceiving this passion, an
[5783] intense pity for the miseries that he was enduring, and a feeling
[5784] equally intense, but one that she hid from herself--a feeling of
[5785] respect for Edward's determination to keep himself, in this
[5786] particular affair, unspotted.
[5787]
[5788] And the human heart is a very mysterious thing. It is impossible to
[5789] say that Leonora, in acting as she then did, was not filled with a
[5790] sort of hatred of Edward's final virtue. She wanted, I think, to
[5791] despise him. He was, she realized gone from her for good. Then
[5792] let him suffer, let him agonize; let him, if possible, break and go
[5793] to that Hell that is the abode of broken resolves. She might have
[5794] taken a different line. It would have been so easy to send the girl
[5795] away to stay with some friends; to have taken her away herself
[5796] upon some pretext or other. That would not have cured things but
[5797] it would have been the decent line, . . . But, at that date, poor
[5798] Leonora was incapable of taking any line whatever.
[5799]
[5800] She pitied Edward frightfully at one time--and then she acted
[5801] along the lines of pity; she loathed him at another and then she
[5802] acted as her loathing dictated. She gasped, as a person dying of
[5803] tuberculosis gasps for air. She craved madly for communication
[5804] with some other human soul. And the human soul that she
[5805] selected was that of the girl.
[5806]
[5807] Perhaps Nancy was the only person that she could have talked to.
[5808] With her necessity for reticences, with her coldness of manner,
[5809] Leonora had singularly few intimates. She had none at all, with
[5810] the exception of the Mrs Colonel Whelen, who had advised her
[5811] about the affair with La Dolciquita, and the one or two religious,
[5812] who had guided her through life. The Colonel's wife was at that
[5813] time in Madeira; the religious she now avoided. Her visitors' book
[5814] had seven hundred names in it; there was not a soul that she could
[5815] speak to. She was Mrs Ashburnham of Branshaw Teleragh.
[5816]
[5817] She was the great Mrs Ashburnham of Branshaw and she lay all
[5818] day upon her bed in her marvellous, light, airy bedroom with the
[5819] chintzes and the Chippendale and the portraits of deceased
[5820] Ashburnhams by Zoffany and Zucchero. When there was a meet
[5821] she would struggle up--supposing it were within driving
[5822] distance--and let Edward drive her and the girl to the cross-roads
[5823] or the country house. She would drive herself back alone; Edward
[5824] would ride off with the girl. Ride Leonora could not, that
[5825] season--her head was too bad. Each pace of her mare was an
[5826] anguish.
[5827]
[5828] But she drove with efficiency and precision; she smiled at the
[5829] Gimmers and Ffoulkes and the Hedley Seatons. She threw with
[5830] exactitude pennies to the boys who opened gates for her; she sat
[5831] upright on the seat of the high dog-cart; she waved her hands to
[5832] Edward and Nancy as they rode off with the hounds, and every
[5833] one could hear her clear, high voice, in the chilly weather, saying:
[5834] "Have a good time!"
[5835]
[5836] Poor forlorn woman! . . .
[5837]
[5838] There was, however, one spark of consolation. It came from the
[5839] fact that Rodney Bayham, of Bayham, followed her always with
[5840] his eyes. It had been three years since she had tried her abortive
[5841] love-affair with him. Yet still, on the winter mornings he would
[5842] ride up to her shafts and just say: "Good day," and look at her with
[5843] eyes that were not imploring, but seemed to say: "You see, I am
[5844] still, as the Germans say, A. D.--at disposition."
[5845]
[5846] It was a great consolation, not because she proposed ever to take
[5847] him up again, but because it showed her that there was in the
[5848] world one faithful soul in riding-breeches. And it showed her that
[5849] she was not losing her looks.
[5850]
[5851] And, indeed, she was not losing her looks. She was forty, but she
[5852] was as clean run as on the day she had left the convent--as clear in
[5853] outline, as clear coloured in the hair, as dark blue in the eyes. She
[5854] thought that her looking-glass told her this; but there are always
[5855] the doubts. . . . Rodney Bayham's eyes took them away.
[5856]
[5857] It is very singular that Leonora should not have aged at all. I
[5858] suppose that there are some types of beauty and even of youth
[5859] made for the embellishments that come with enduring sorrow.
[5860] That is too elaborately put. I mean that Leonora, if everything had
[5861] prospered, might have become too hard and, maybe, overbearing.
[5862] As it was she was tuned down to appearing efficient--and yet
[5863] sympathetic. That is the rarest of all blends. And yet I swear that
[5864] Leonora, in her restrained way, gave the impression of being
[5865] intensely sympathetic. When she listened to you she appeared also
[5866] to be listening to some sound that was going on in the distance.
[5867] But still, she listened to you and took in what you said, which,
[5868] since the record of humanity is a record of sorrows, was, as a rule,
[5869] something sad.
[5870]
[5871] I think that she must have taken Nancy through many terrors of the
[5872] night and many bad places of the day. And that would account for
[5873] the girl's passionate love for the elder woman. For Nancy's love
[5874] for Leonora was an admiration that is awakened in Catholics by
[5875] their feeling for the Virgin Mary and for various of the saints. It is
[5876] too little to say that the girl would have laid her life at Leonora's
[5877] feet. Well, she laid there the offer of her virtue--and her reason.
[5878] Those were sufficient instalments of her life. It would today be
[5879] much better for Nancy Rufford if she were dead.
[5880]
[5881] Perhaps all these reflections are a nuisance; but they crowd on me.
[5882] I will try to tell the story.
[5883]
[5884] You see--when she came back from Nauheim Leonora began to
[5885] have her headaches--headaches lasting through whole days, during
[5886] which she could speak no word and could bear to hear no sound.
[5887] And, day after day, Nancy would sit with her, silent and
[5888] motionless for hours, steeping handkerchiefs in vinegar and water,
[5889] and thinking her own thoughts. It must have been very bad for
[5890] her--and her meals alone with Edward must have been bad for her
[5891] too--and beastly bad for Edward. Edward, of course, wavered in
[5892] his demeanour, What else could he do? At times he would sit
[5893] silent and dejected over his untouched food. He would utter
[5894] nothing but monosyllables when Nancy spoke to him. Then he
[5895] was simply afraid of the girl falling in love with him. At other
[5896] times he would take a little wine; pull himself together; attempt to
[5897] chaff Nancy about a stake and binder hedge that her mare had
[5898] checked at, or talk about the habits of the Chitralis. That was when
[5899] he was thinking that it was rough on the poor girl that he should
[5900] have become a dull companion. He realized that his talking to her
[5901] in the park at Nauheim had done her no harm.
[5902]
[5903] But all that was doing a great deal of harm to Nancy. It gradually
[5904] opened her eyes to the fact that Edward was a man with his ups
[5905] and downs and not an invariably gay uncle like a nice dog, a
[5906] trustworthy horse or a girl friend. She would find him in attitudes
[5907] of frightful dejection, sunk into his armchair in the study that was
[5908] half a gun-room. She would notice through the open door that his
[5909] face was the face of an old, dead man, when he had no one to talk
[5910] to. Gradually it forced itself upon her attention that there were
[5911] profound differences between the pair that she regarded a her
[5912] uncle and her aunt. It was a conviction that came very slowly.
[5913]
[5914] It began with Edward's giving an oldish horse to a young fellow
[5915] called Selmes. Selmes' father had been ruined by fraudulent
[5916] solicitor and the Selmes family had had to sell their hunters. It
[5917] was a case that had excited a good deal of sympathy in that part of
[5918] the county. And Edward, meeting the young man one day,
[5919] unmounted, and seeing him to be very unhappy, had offered to
[5920] give him an old Irish cob upon which he was riding. It was a silly
[5921] sort of thing to do really. The horse was worth from thirty to forty
[5922] pounds and Edward might have known that the gift would upset
[5923] his wife. But Edward just had to comfort that unhappy young man
[5924] whose father he had known all his life. And what made it all the
[5925] worse was that young Selmes could not afford to keep the horse
[5926] even. Edward recollected this, immediately after he had made the
[5927] offer, and said quickly:
[5928]
[5929] "Of course I mean that you should stable the horse at Branshaw
[5930] until you have time to turn round or want to sell him and get a
[5931] better."
[5932]
[5933] Nancy went straight home and told all this to Leonora who was
[5934] lying down. She regarded it as a splendid instance of Edward's
[5935] quick consideration for the feelings and the circumstances of the
[5936] distressed. She thought it would cheer Leonora up--because it
[5937] ought to cheer any woman up to know that she had such a
[5938] splendid husband. That was the last girlish thought she ever had.
[5939] For Leonora, whose headache had left her collected but miserably
[5940] weak, turned upon her bed and uttered words that were amazing
[5941] to the girl:
[5942]
[5943] "I wish to God," she said, "that he was your husband, and not mine.
[5944] We shall be ruined. We shall be ruined. Am I never to have a
[5945] chance?" And suddenly Leonora burst into a passion of tears. She
[5946] pushed herself up from the pillows with one elbow and sat
[5947] there--crying, crying, crying, with her face hidden in her hands
[5948] and the tears falling through her fingers.
[5949]
[5950] The girl flushed, stammered and whimpered as if she had been
[5951] personally insulted.
[5952]
[5953] "But if Uncle Edward . . ." she began.
[5954]
[5955] "That man," said Leonora, with an extraordinary bitterness, "would
[5956] give the shirt off his back and off mine--and off yours to any . . ."
[5957] She could not finish the sentence.
[5958]
[5959] At that moment she had been feeling an extraordinary hatred and
[5960] contempt for her husband. All the morning and all the afternoon
[5961] she had been lying there thinking that Edward and the girl were
[5962] together--in the field and hacking it home at dusk. She had been
[5963] digging her sharp nails into her palms.
[5964]
[5965] The house had been very silent in the drooping winter weather.
[5966] And then, after an eternity of torture, there had invaded it the
[5967] sound of opening doors, of the girl's gay voice saying:
[5968]
[5969] "Well, it was only under the mistletoe." . . . And there was
[5970] Edward's gruff undertone. Then Nancy had come in, with feet that
[5971] had hastened up the stairs and that tiptoed as they approached the
[5972] open door of Leonora's room. Branshaw had a great big hall with
[5973] oak floors and tiger skins. Round this hall there ran a gallery upon
[5974] which Leonora's doorway gave. And even when she had the worst
[5975] of her headaches she liked to have her door open--I suppose so
[5976] that she might hear the approaching footsteps of ruin and disaster.
[5977] At any rate she hated to be in a room with a shut door.
[5978]
[5979] At that moment Leonora hated Edward with a hatred that was like
[5980] hell, and she would have liked to bring her riding-whip down
[5981] across the girl's face. What right had Nancy to be young and
[5982] slender and dark, and gay at times, at times mournful? What right
[5983] had she to be exactly the woman to make Leonora's husband
[5984] happy? For Leonora knew that Nancy would have made Edward
[5985] happy.
[5986]
[5987] Yes, Leonora wished to bring her riding-whip down on Nancy's
[5988] young face. She imagined the pleasure she would feel when the
[5989] lash fell across those queer features; the plea sure she would feel
[5990] at drawing the handle at the same moment toward her, so as to cut
[5991] deep into the flesh and to leave a lasting wheal.
[5992]
[5993] Well, she left a lasting wheal, and her words cut deeply into the
[5994] girl's mind. . . .
[5995]
[5996] They neither of them spoke about that again. A fortnight went
[5997] by--a fortnight of deep rains, of heavy fields, of bad scent.
[5998] Leonora's headaches seemed to have gone for good. She hunted
[5999] once or twice, letting herself be piloted by Bayham, whilst
[6000] Edward looked after the girl. Then, one evening, when those three
[6001] were dining alone, Edward said, in the queer, deliberate, heavy
[6002] tones that came out of him in those days (he was looking at the
[6003] table):
[6004]
[6005] "I have been thinking that Nancy ought to do more for her father.
[6006] He is getting an old man. I have written to Colonel Rufford,
[6007] suggesting that she should go to him."
[6008]
[6009] Leonora called out:
[6010]
[6011] "How dare you? How dare you?"
[6012]
[6013] The girl put her hand over her heart and cried out: "Oh, my sweet
[6014] Saviour, help mel" That was the queer way she thought within her
[6015] mind, and the words forced themselves to her lips. Edward said
[6016] nothing.
[6017]
[6018] And that night, by a merciless trick of the devil that pays attention
[6019] to this sweltering hell of ours, Nancy Rufford had a letter from her
[6020] mother. It came whilst Leonora was talking to Edward, or Leonora
[6021] would have intercepted it as she had intercepted others. It was an
[6022] amazing and a horrible letter. . . .
[6023]
[6024] I don't know what it contained. I just average out from its effects
[6025] on Nancy that her mother, having eloped with some worthless sort
[6026] of fellow, had done what is called "sinking lower and lower".
[6027] Whether she was actually on the streets I do not know, but I rather
[6028] think that she eked out a small allowance that she had from her
[6029] husband by that means of livelihood. And I think that she stated as
[6030] much in her letter to Nancy and upbraided the girl with living in
[6031] luxury whilst her mother starved. And it must have been horrible
[6032] in tone, for Mrs Rufford was a cruel sort of woman at the best of
[6033] times. It must have seemed to that poor girl, opening her letter, for
[6034] distraction from another grief, up in her bedroom, like the laughter
[6035] of a devil.
[6036]
[6037] I just cannot bear to think of my poor dear girl at that moment. . . .
[6038]
[6039] And, at the same time, Leonora was lashing, like a cold fiend, into
[6040] the unfortunate Edward. Or, perhaps, he was not so unfortunate;
[6041] because he had done what he knew to be the right thing, he may
[6042] be deemed happy. I leave it to you. At any rate, he was sitting in
[6043] his deep chair, and Leonora came into his room--for the first time
[6044] in nine years. She said:
[6045]
[6046] "This is the most atrocious thing you have done in your atrocious
[6047] life." He never moved and he never looked at her. God knows
[6048] what was in Leonora's mind exactly.
[6049]
[6050] I like to think that, uppermost in it was concern and horror at the
[6051] thought of the poor girl's going back to a father whose voice made
[6052] her shriek in the night. And, indeed, that motive was very strong
[6053] with Leonora. But I think there was also present the thought that
[6054] she wanted to go on torturing Edward with the girl's presence. She
[6055] was, at that time, capable of that.
[6056]
[6057] Edward was sunk in his chair; there were in the room two candles,
[6058] hidden by green glass shades. The green shades were reflected in
[6059] the glasses of the book-cases that contained not books but guns
[6060] with gleaming brown barrels and fishing-rods in green baize
[6061] over-covers. There was dimly to be seen, above a mantelpiece
[6062] encumbered with spurs, hooves and bronze models of horses, a
[6063] dark-brown picture of a white horse.
[6064]
[6065] "If you think," Leonora said, "that I do not know that you are in
[6066] love with the girl . . ." She began spiritedly, but she could not find
[6067] any ending for the sentence. Edward did not stir; he never spoke.
[6068] And then Leonora said:
[6069]
[6070] "If you want me to divorce you, I will. You can marry her then.
[6071] She's in love with you."
[6072]
[6073] He groaned at that, a little, Leonora said. Then she went away.
[6074]
[6075] Heaven knows what happened in Leonora after that. She certainly
[6076] does not herself know. She probably said a good deal more to
[6077] Edward than I have been able to report; but that is all that she has
[6078] told me and I am not going to make up speeches. To follow her
[6079] psychological development of that moment I think we must allow
[6080] that she upbraided him for a great deal of their past life, whilst
[6081] Edward sat absolutely silent. And, indeed, in speaking of it
[6082] afterwards, she has said several times: "I said a great deal more to
[6083] him than I wanted to, just because he was so silent." She talked, in
[6084] fact, in the endeavour to sting him into speech.
[6085]
[6086] She must have said so much that, with the expression of her
[6087] grievance, her mood changed. She went back to her own room in
[6088] the gallery, and sat there for a long time thinking. And she thought
[6089] herself into a mood of absolute unselfishness, of absolute
[6090] self-contempt, too. She said to herself that she was no good; that
[6091] she had failed in all her efforts--in her efforts to get Edward back
[6092] as in her efforts to make him curb his expenditure. She imagined
[6093] herself to be exhausted; she imagined herself to be done. Then a
[6094] great fear came over her.
[6095]
[6096] She thought that Edward, after what she had said to him, must
[6097] have committed suicide. She went out on to the gallery and
[6098] listened; there was no sound in all the house except the regular
[6099] beat of the great clock in the hall. But, even in her debased
[6100] condition, she was not the person to hang about. She acted. She
[6101] went straight to Edward's room, opened the door, and looked in.
[6102]
[6103] He was oiling the breech action of a gun. It was an unusual thing
[6104] for him to do, at that time of night, in his evening clothes. It never
[6105] occurred to her, nevertheless, that he was going to shoot himself
[6106] with that implement. She knew that he was doing it just for
[6107] occupation--to keep himself from thinking. He looked up when
[6108] she opened the door, his face illuminated by the light cast
[6109] upwards from the round orifices in the green candle shades.
[6110]
[6111] She said:
[6112]
[6113] "I didn't imagine that I should find Nancy here." She thought that
[6114] she owed that to him. He answered then:
[6115]
[6116] "I don't imagine that you did imagine it." Those were the only
[6117] words he spoke that night. She went, like a lame duck, back
[6118] through the long corridors; she stumbled over the familiar tiger
[6119] skins in the dark hall. She could hardly drag one limb after the
[6120] other. In the gallery she perceived that Nancy's door was half open
[6121] and that there was a light in the girl's room. A sudden madness
[6122] possessed her, a desire for action, a thirst for self-explanation.
[6123]
[6124] Their rooms all gave on to the gallery; Leonora's to the east, the
[6125] girl's next, then Edward's. The sight of those three open doors,
[6126] side by side, gaping to receive whom the chances of the black
[6127] night might bring, made Leonora shudder all over her body. She
[6128] went into Nancy's room.
[6129]
[6130] The girl was sitting perfectly still in an armchair, very upright, as
[6131] she had been taught to sit at the convent. She appeared to be as
[6132] calm as a church; her hair fell, black and like a pall, down over
[6133] both her shoulders. The fire beside her was burning brightly; she
[6134] must have just put coals on. She was in a white silk kimono that
[6135] covered her to the feet. The clothes that she had taken off were
[6136] exactly folded upon the proper seats. Her long hands were one
[6137] upon each arm of the chair that had a pink and white chintz back.
[6138]
[6139] Leonora told me these things. She seemed to think it extraordinary
[6140] that the girl could have done such orderly things as fold up the
[6141] clothes she had taken off upon such a night--when Edward had
[6142] announced that he was going to send her to her father, and when,
[6143] from her mother, she had received that letter. The letter, in its
[6144] envelope, was in her right hand.
[6145]
[6146] Leonora did not at first perceive it. She said:
[6147]
[6148] "What are you doing so late?"
[6149]
[6150] The girl answered: "Just thinking."
[6151]
[6152] They seemed to think in whispers and to speak below their breaths.
[6153] Then Leonora's eyes fell on the envelope, and she recognized Mrs
[6154] Rufford's handwriting.
[6155]
[6156] It was one of those moments when thinking was impossible,
[6157] Leonora said. It was as if stones were being thrown at her from
[6158] every direction and she could only run. She heard herself exclaim:
[6159] "Edward's dying--because of you. He's dying. He's worth more than
[6160] either of us. . . ."
[6161]
[6162] The girl looked past her at the panels of the half-closed door.
[6163]
[6164] "My poor father," she said, "my poor father." "You must stay
[6165] here," Leonora answered fiercely. "You must stay here. I tell you
[6166] you must stay here."
[6167]
[6168] "I am going to Glasgow," Nancy answered. "I shall go to Glasgow
[6169] tomorrow morning. My mother is in Glasgow."
[6170]
[6171] It appears that it was in Glasgow that Mrs Rufford pursued her
[6172] disorderly life. She had selected that city, not because it was more
[6173] profitable but because it was the natal home of her husband to
[6174] whom she desired to cause as much pain as possible.
[6175]
[6176] "You must stay here," Leonora began, "to save Edward. He's dying
[6177] for love of you."
[6178]
[6179] The girl turned her calm eyes upon Leonora. "I know it," she said.
[6180] "And I am dying for love of him."
[6181]
[6182] Leonora uttered an "Ah," that, in spite of herself, was an "Ah" of
[6183] horror and of grief.
[6184]
[6185] "That is why," the girl continued, "I am going to Glasgow--to take
[6186] my mother away from there." She added, "To the ends of the
[6187] earth," for, if the last months had made her nature that of a
[6188] woman, her phrases were still romantically those of a schoolgirl.
[6189] It was as if she had grown up so quickly that there had not been
[6190] time to put her hair up. But she added: "We're no good--my
[6191] mother and I."
[6192]
[6193] Leonora said, with her fierce calmness:
[6194]
[6195] "No. No. You're not no good. It's I that am no good. You can't let
[6196] that man go on to ruin for want of you. You must belong to him."
[6197]
[6198] The girl, she said, smiled at her with a queer, far-away smile--as if
[6199] she were a thousand years old, as if Leonora were a tiny child.
[6200]
[6201] "I knew you would come to that,' she said, very slowly. "But we
[6202] are not worth it--Edward and I."
[6203]
[6204] III
[6205]
[6206] NANCY had, in fact, been thinking ever since Leonora had made
[6207] that comment over the giving of the horse to young Selmes. She
[6208] had been thinking and thinking, because she had had to sit for
[6209] many days silent beside her aunt's bed. (She had always thought of
[6210] Leonora as her aunt.) And she had had to sit thinking during many
[6211] silent meals with Edward. And then, at times, with his bloodshot
[6212] eyes and creased, heavy mouth, he would smile at her. And
[6213] gradually the knowledge had come to her that Edward did not love
[6214] Leonora and that Leonora hated Edward. Several things
[6215] contributed to form and to harden this conviction. She was
[6216] allowed to read the papers in those days--or, rather, since Leonora
[6217] was always on her bed and Edward breakfasted alone and went out
[6218] early, over the estate, she was left alone with the papers. One day,
[6219] in the papers, she saw the portrait of a woman she knew very well.
[6220] Beneath it she read the words: "The Hon. Mrs Brand, plaintiff in
[6221] the remarkable divorce case reported on p. 8." Nancy hardly knew
[6222] what a divorce case was. She had been so remarkably well
[6223] brought up, and Roman Catholics do not practise divorce. I don't
[6224] know how Leonora had done it exactly. I suppose she had always
[6225] impressed it on Nancy's mind that nice women did not read these
[6226] things, and that would have been enough to make Nancy skip
[6227] those pages.
[6228]
[6229] She read, at any rate, the account of the Brand divorce
[6230] case--principally because she wanted to tell Leonora about it. She
[6231] imagined that Leonora, when her headache left her, would like to
[6232] know what was happening to Mrs Brand, who lived at
[6233] Christchurch, and whom they both liked very well. The case
[6234] occupied three days, and the report that Nancy first came upon was
[6235] that of the third day. Edward, however, kept the papers of the
[6236] week, after his methodical fashion, in a rack in his gun-room, and
[6237] when she had finished her breakfast Nancy went to that quiet
[6238] apartment and had what she would have called a good read. It
[6239] seemed to her to be a queer affair. She could not understand why
[6240] one counsel should be so anxious to know all about the
[6241] movements of Mr Brand upon a certain day; she could not
[6242] understand why a chart of the bedroom accommodation at
[6243] Christchurch Old Hall should be produced in court. She did not
[6244] even see why they should want to know that, upon a certain
[6245] occasion, the drawing-room door was locked. It made her laugh; it
[6246] appeared to be all so senseless that grown people should occupy
[6247] themselves with such matters. It struck her, nevertheless, as odd
[6248] that one of the counsel should cross-question Mr Brand so
[6249] insistently and so impertinently as to his feelings for Miss Lupton.
[6250] Nancy knew Miss Lupton of Ringwood very well--a jolly girl, who
[6251] rode a horse with two white fetlocks. Mr Brand persisted that he
[6252] did not love Miss Lupton. . . . Well, of course he did not love Miss
[6253] Lupton; he was a married man. You might as well think of Uncle
[6254] Edward loving . . . loving anybody but Leonora. When people were
[6255] married there was an end of loving. There were, no doubt, people
[6256] who misbehaved--but they were poor people--or people not like
[6257] those she knew. So these matters presented themselves to Nancy's
[6258] mind. But later on in the case she found that Mr Brand had to
[6259] confess to a "guilty intimacy" with some one or other. Nancy
[6260] imagined that he must have been telling some one his wife's
[6261] secrets; she could not understand why that was a serious offence.
[6262] Of course it was not very gentlemanly--it lessened her opinion of
[6263] Mrs Brand. But since she found that Mrs Brand had condoned that
[6264] offence, she imagined that they could not have been very serious
[6265] secrets that Mr Brand had told. And then, suddenly, it was forced
[6266] on her conviction that Mr Brand--the mild Mr Brand that she had
[6267] seen a month or two before their departure to Nauheim, playing
[6268] "Blind Man's Buff" with his children and kissing his wife when he
[6269] caught her--Mr Brand and Mrs Brand had been on the worst
[6270] possible terms. That was incredible.
[6271]
[6272] Yet there it was--in black and white. Mr Brand drank; Mr Brand
[6273] had struck Mrs Brand to the ground when he was drunk. Mr Brand
[6274] was adjudged, in two or three abrupt words, at the end of columns
[6275] and columns of paper, to have been guilty of cruelty to his wife
[6276] and to have committed adultery with Miss Lupton. The last words
[6277] conveyed nothing to Nancy--nothing real, that is to say. She knew
[6278] that one was commanded not to commit adultery--but why, she
[6279] thought, should one? It was probably something like catching
[6280] salmon out of season--a thing one did not do. She gathered it had
[6281] something to do with kissing, or holding some one in your arms. .
[6282]
[6283]
[6284] And yet the whole effect of that reading upon Nancy was
[6285] mysterious, terrifying and evil. She felt a sickness--a sickness that
[6286] grew as she read. Her heart beat painfully; she began to cry. She
[6287] asked God how He could permit such things to be. And she was
[6288] more certain that Edward did not love Leonora and that Leonora
[6289] hated Edward. Perhaps, then, Edward loved some one else. It was
[6290] unthinkable.
[6291]
[6292] If he could love some one else than Leonora, her fierce unknown
[6293] heart suddenly spoke in her side, why could it not be herself? And
[6294] he did not love her. . . . This had occurred about a month before
[6295] she got the letter from her mother. She let the matter rest until the
[6296] sick feeling went off; it did that in a day or two. Then, finding that
[6297] Leonora's headaches had gone, she suddenly told Leonora that
[6298] Mrs Brand had divorced her husband. She asked what, exactly, it
[6299] all meant.
[6300]
[6301] Leonora was lying on the sofa in the hall; she was feeling so weak
[6302] that she could hardly find the words. She answered just:
[6303]
[6304] "It means that Mr Brand will be able to marry again."
[6305]
[6306] Nancy said:
[6307]
[6308] "But . . . but . . ." and then: "He will be able to marry Miss Lupton."
[6309] Leonora just moved a hand in assent. Her eyes were shut.
[6310]
[6311] "Then . . ." Nancy began. Her blue eyes were full of horror: her
[6312] brows were tight above them; the lines of pain about her mouth
[6313] were very distinct. In her eyes the whole of that familiar, great
[6314] hall had a changed aspect. The andirons with the brass flowers at
[6315] the ends appeared unreal; the burning logs were just logs that
[6316] were burning and not the comfortable symbols of an indestructible
[6317] mode of life. The flame fluttered before the high fireback; the St
[6318] Bernard sighed in his sleep. Outside the winter rain fell and fell.
[6319] And suddenly she thought that Edward might marry some one else;
[6320] and she nearly screamed.
[6321]
[6322] Leonora opened her eyes, lying sideways, with her face upon the
[6323] black and gold pillow of the sofa that was drawn half across the
[6324] great fireplace.
[6325]
[6326] "I thought," Nancy said, "I never imagined. . . . Aren't marriages
[6327] sacraments? Aren't they indissoluble? I thought you were married .
[6328] . . and . . ." She was sobbing. "I thought you were married or not
[6329] married as you are alive or dead." "That," Leonora said, "is the
[6330] law of the church. It is not the law of the land. . . ."
[6331]
[6332] "Oh yes," Nancy said, "the Brands are Protestants." She felt a
[6333] sudden safeness descend upon her, and for an hour or so her mind
[6334] was at rest. It seemed to her idiotic not to have remembered Henry
[6335] VIII and the basis upon which Protestantism rests. She almost
[6336] laughed at herself.
[6337]
[6338] The long afternoon wore on; the flames still fluttered when the
[6339] maid made up the fire; the St Bernard awoke and lolloped away
[6340] towards the kitchen. And then Leonora opened her eyes and said
[6341] almost coldly:
[6342]
[6343] "And you? Don't you think you will get married?"
[6344]
[6345] It was so unlike Leonora that, for the moment, the girl was
[6346] frightened in the dusk. But then, again, it seemed a perfectly
[6347] reasonable question. "I don't know," she answered. "I don't know
[6348] that anyone wants to marry me."
[6349]
[6350] "Several people want to marry you," Leonora said.
[6351]
[6352] "But I don't want to marry," Nancy answered. "I should like to go
[6353] on living with you and Edward. I don't think I am in the way or
[6354] that I am really an expense. If I went you would have to have a
[6355] companion. Or, perhaps, I ought to earn my living. . . ."
[6356]
[6357] "I wasn't thinking of that," Leonora answered in the same dull tone.
[6358] "You will have money enough from your father. But most people
[6359] want to be married."
[6360]
[6361] I believe that she then asked the girl if she would not like to marry
[6362] me, and that Nancy answered that she would marry me if she were
[6363] told to; but that she wanted to go on living there. She added:
[6364]
[6365] "If I married anyone I should want him to be like Edward."
[6366]
[6367] She was frightened out of her life. Leonora writhed on her couch
[6368] and called out: "Oh, God! . . ."
[6369]
[6370] Nancy ran for the maid; for tablets of aspirin; for wet
[6371] handkerchiefs. It never occurred to her that Leonora's expression
[6372] of agony was for anything else than physical pain.
[6373]
[6374] You are to remember that all this happened a month before
[6375] Leonora went into the girl's room at night. I have been casting
[6376] back again; but I cannot help it. It is so difficult to keep all these
[6377] people going. I tell you about Leonora and bring her up to date;
[6378] then about Edward, who has fallen behind. And then the girl gets
[6379] hopelessly left behind. I wish I could put it down in diary form.
[6380] Thus: On the 1st of September they returned from Nauheim.
[6381] Leonora at once took to her bed. By the 1st of October they were
[6382] all going to meets together. Nancy had already observed very fully
[6383] that Edward was strange in his manner. About the 6th of that
[6384] month Edward gave the horse to young Selmes, and Nancy had
[6385] cause to believe that her aunt did not love her uncle. On the 20th
[6386] she read the account of the divorce case, which is reported in the
[6387] papers of the 18th and the two following days. On the 23rd she
[6388] had the conversation with her aunt in the hall--about marriage in
[6389] general and about her own possible marriage, her aunt's coming to
[6390] her bedroom did not occur until the 12th of November. . . .
[6391]
[6392] Thus she had three weeks for introspection--for introspection
[6393] beneath gloomy skies, in that old house, rendered darker by the
[6394] fact that it lay in a hollow crowned by fir trees with their black
[6395] shadows. It was not a good situation for a girl. She began thinking
[6396] about love, she who had never before considered it as anything
[6397] other than a rather humorous, rather nonsensical matter. She
[6398] remembered chance passages in chance books--things that had not
[6399] really affected her at all at the time. She remembered someone's
[6400] love for the Princess Badrulbadour; she remembered to have heard
[6401] that love was a flame, a thirst, a withering up of the vitals--though
[6402] she did not know what the vitals were. She had a vague
[6403] recollection that love was said to render a hopeless lover's eyes
[6404] hopeless; she remembered a character in a book who was said to
[6405] have taken to drink through love; she remembered that lovers'
[6406] existences were said to be punctuated with heavy sighs. Once she
[6407] went to the little cottage piano that was in the corner of the hall
[6408] and began to play. It was a tinkly, reedy instrument, for none of
[6409] that household had any turn for music. Nancy herself could play a
[6410] few simple songs, and she found herself playing. She had been
[6411] sitting on the window seat, looking out on the fading day. Leonora
[6412] had gone to pay some calls; Edward was looking after some
[6413] planting up in the new spinney. Thus she found herself playing on
[6414] the old piano. She did not know how she came to be doing it. A
[6415] silly lilting wavering tune came from before her in the dusk--a tune
[6416] in which major notes with their cheerful insistence wavered and
[6417] melted into minor sounds, as, beneath a bridge, the high lights on
[6418] dark waters melt and waver and disappear into black depths. Well,
[6419] it was a silly old tune. . . .
[6420]
[6421] It goes with the words--they are about a willow tree, I think: Thou
[6422] art to all lost loves the best The only true plant found.
[6423]
[6424] --That sort of thing. It is Herrick, I believe, and the music with the
[6425] reedy, irregular, lilting sound that goes with Herrick, And it was
[6426] dusk; the heavy, hewn, dark pillars that supported the gallery were
[6427] like mourning presences; the fire had sunk to nothing--a mere
[6428] glow amongst white ashes, . . . It was a sentimental sort of place
[6429] and light and hour. . . .
[6430]
[6431] And suddenly Nancy found that she was crying. She was crying
[6432] quietly; she went on to cry with long convulsive sobs. It seemed to
[6433] her that everything gay, everything charming, all light, all
[6434] sweetness, had gone out of life. Unhappiness; unhappiness;
[6435] unhappiness was all around her. She seemed to know no happy
[6436] being and she herself was agonizing. . . .
[6437]
[6438] She remembered that Edward's eyes were hopeless; she was
[6439] certain that he was drinking too much; at times he sighed deeply.
[6440] He appeared as a man who was burning with inward flame; drying
[6441] up in the soul with thirst; withering up in the vitals. Then, the
[6442] torturing conviction came to her--the conviction that had visited
[6443] her again and again--that Edward must love some one other than
[6444] Leonora. With her little, pedagogic sectarianism she remembered
[6445] that Catholics do not do this thing. But Edward was a Protestant.
[6446] Then Edward loved somebody. . . .
[6447]
[6448] And, after that thought, her eyes grew hopeless; she sighed as the
[6449] old St Bernard beside her did. At meals she would feel an
[6450] intolerable desire to drink a glass of wine, and then another and
[6451] then a third. Then she would find herself grow gay. . . . But in half
[6452] an hour the gaiety went; she felt like a person who is burning up
[6453] with an inward flame; desiccating at the soul with thirst;
[6454] withering up in the vitals. One evening she went into Edward's
[6455] gun-room--he had gone to a meeting of the National Reserve
[6456] Committee. On the table beside his chair was a decanter of
[6457] whisky. She poured out a wineglassful and drank it off. Flame
[6458] then really seemed to fill her body; her legs swelled; her face grew
[6459] feverish. She dragged her tall height up to her room and lay in the
[6460] dark. The bed reeled beneath her; she gave way to the thought that
[6461] she was in Edward's arms; that he was kissing her on her face that
[6462] burned; on her shoulders that burned, and on her neck that was on
[6463] fire.
[6464]
[6465] She never touched alcohol again. Not once after that did she have
[6466] such thoughts. They died out of her mind; they left only a feeling
[6467] of shame so insupportable that her brain could not take it in and
[6468] they vanished. She imagined that her anguish at the thought of
[6469] Edward's love for another person was solely sympathy for
[6470] Leonora; she determined that the rest of her life must be spent in
[6471] acting as Leonora's handmaiden--sweeping, tending,
[6472] embroidering, like some Deborah, some medieval saint--I am not,
[6473] unfortunately, up in the Catholic hagiology. But I know that she
[6474] pictured herself as some personage with a depressed, earnest face
[6475] and tightly closed lips, in a clear white room, watering flowers or
[6476] tending an embroidery frame. Or, she desired to go with Edward
[6477] to Africa and to throw herself in the path of a charging lion so that
[6478] Edward might be saved for Leonora at the cost of her life. Well,
[6479] along with her sad thoughts she had her childish ones. She knew
[6480] nothing--nothing of life, except that one must live sadly. That she
[6481] now knew. What happened to her on the night when she received
[6482] at once the blow that Edward wished her to go to her father in
[6483] India and the blow of the letter from her mother was this. She
[6484] called first upon her sweet Saviour--and she thought of Our Lord
[6485] as her sweet Saviour!--that He might make it impossible that she
[6486] should go to India. Then she realized from Edward's demeanour
[6487] that he was determined that she should go to India. It must then be
[6488] right that she should go. Edward was always right in his
[6489] determinations. He was the Cid; he was Lohengrin; he was the
[6490] Chevalier Bayard.
[6491]
[6492] Nevertheless her mind mutinied and revolted. She could not leave
[6493] that house. She imagined that he wished her gone that she might
[6494] not witness his amours with another girl. Well, she was prepared
[6495] to tell him that she was ready to witness his amours with another
[6496] young girl. She would stay there --to comfort Leonora.
[6497]
[6498] Then came the desperate shock of the letter from her mother. Her
[6499] mother said, I believe, something like: "You have no right to go
[6500] on living your life of prosperity and respect. You ought to be on
[6501] the streets with me. How do you know that you are even Colonel
[6502] Rufford's daughter?" She did not know what these words meant.
[6503] She thought of her mother as sleeping beneath the arches whilst
[6504] the snow fell. That was the impression conveyed to her mind by
[6505] the words "on the streets". A Platonic sense of duty gave her the
[6506] idea that she ought to go to comfort her mother--the mother that
[6507] bore her, though she hardly knew what the words meant. At the
[6508] same time she knew that her mother had left her father with
[6509] another man--therefore she pitied her father, and thought it
[6510] terrible in herself that she trembled at the sound of her father's
[6511] voice. If her mother was that sort of woman it was natural that her
[6512] father should have had accesses of madness in which he had struck
[6513] herself to the ground. And the voice of her conscience said to her
[6514] that her first duty was to her parents. It was in accord with this
[6515] awakened sense of duty that she undressed with great care and
[6516] meticulously folded the clothes that she took off. Sometimes, but
[6517] not very often, she threw them helter-skelter about the room.
[6518]
[6519] And that sense of duty was her prevailing mood when Leonora,
[6520] tall, clean-run, golden-haired, all in black, appeared in her
[6521] doorway, and told her that Edward was dying of love for her. She
[6522] knew then with her conscious mind what she had known within
[6523] herself for months--that Edward was dying--actually and
[6524] physically dying--of love for her. It seemed to her that for one
[6525] short moment her spirit could say: "Domine, nunc dimittis, . . .
[6526] Lord, now, lettest thou thy servant depart in peace." She imagined
[6527] that she could cheerfully go away to Glasgow and rescue her
[6528] fallen mother.
[6529]
[6530] IV
[6531]
[6532] AND it seemed to her to be in tune with the mood, with the hour,
[6533] and with the woman in front of her to say that she knew Edward
[6534] was dying of love for her and that she was dying of love for
[6535] Edward. For that fact had suddenly slipped into place and become
[6536] real for her as the niched marker on a whist tablet slips round with
[6537] the pressure of your thumb. That rubber at least was made.
[6538]
[6539] And suddenly Leonora seemed to have become different and she
[6540] seemed to have become different in her attitude towards Leonora.
[6541] It was as if she, in her frail, white, silken kimono, sat beside her
[6542] fire, but upon a throne. It was as if Leonora, in her close dress of
[6543] black lace, with the gleaming white shoulders and the coiled
[6544] yellow hair that the girl had always considered the most beautiful
[6545] thing in the world--it was as if Leonora had become pinched,
[6546] shrivelled, blue with cold, shivering, suppliant. Yet Leonora was
[6547] commanding her. It was no good commanding her. She was going
[6548] on the morrow to her mother who was in Glasgow.
[6549]
[6550] Leonora went on saying that she must stay there to save Edward,
[6551] who was dying of love for her. And, proud and happy in the
[6552] thought that Edward loved her, and that she loved him, she did not
[6553] even listen to what Leonora said. It appeared to her that it was
[6554] Leonora's business to save her husband's body; she, Nancy,
[6555] possessed his soul--a precious thing that she would shield and
[6556] bear away up in her arms--as if Leonora were a hungry dog, trying
[6557] to spring up at a lamb that she was carrying. Yes, she felt as if
[6558] Edward's love were a precious lamb that she were bearing away
[6559] from a cruel and predatory beast. For, at that time, Leonora
[6560] appeared to her as a cruel and predatory beast. Leonora, Leonora
[6561] with her hunger, with her cruelty had driven Edward to madness.
[6562] He must be sheltered by his love for her and by her love--her love
[6563] from a great distance and unspoken, enveloping him, surrounding
[6564] him, upholding him; by her voice speaking from Glasgow, saying
[6565] that she loved, that she adored, that she passed no moment
[6566] without longing, loving, quivering at the thought of him.
[6567]
[6568] Leonora said loudly, insistently, with a bitterly imperative tone:
[6569]
[6570] "You must stay here; you must belong to Edward. I will divorce
[6571] him."
[6572]
[6573] The girl answered:
[6574]
[6575] "The Church does not allow of divorce. I cannot belong to your
[6576] husband. I am going to Glasgow to rescue my mother."
[6577]
[6578] The half-opened door opened noiselessly to the full. Edward was
[6579] there. His devouring, doomed eyes were fixed on the girl's face;
[6580] his shoulders slouched forward; he was undoubtedly half drunk
[6581] and he had the whisky decanter in one hand, a slanting candlestick
[6582] in the other. He said, with a heavy ferocity, to Nancy:
[6583]
[6584] "I forbid you to talk about these things. You are to stay here until I
[6585] hear from your father. Then you will go to your father."
[6586]
[6587] The two women, looking at each other, like beasts about to spring,
[6588] hardly gave a glance to him. He leaned against the door-post. He
[6589] said again:
[6590]
[6591] "Nancy, I forbid you to talk about these things. I am the master of
[6592] this house." And, at the sound of his voice, heavy, male, coming
[6593] from a deep chest, in the night with the blackness behind him,
[6594] Nancy felt as if her spirit bowed before him, with folded hands.
[6595] She felt that she would go to India, and that she desired never
[6596] again to talk of these things.
[6597]
[6598] Leonora said:
[6599]
[6600] "You see that it is your duty to belong to him. He must not be
[6601] allowed to go on drinking."
[6602]
[6603] Nancy did not answer. Edward was gone; they heard him slipping
[6604] and shambling on the polished oak of the stairs. Nancy screamed
[6605] when there came the sound of a heavy fall. Leonora said again:
[6606] "You see!"
[6607]
[6608] The sounds went on from the hall below; the light of the candle
[6609] Edward held flickered up between the hand rails of the gallery.
[6610] Then they heard his voice:
[6611]
[6612] "Give me Glasgow . . . Glasgow, in Scotland . . I want the number
[6613] of a man called White, of Simrock Park, Glasgow . . . Edward
[6614] White, Simrock Park, Glasgow . . . ten minutes . . . at this time of
[6615] night . . ." His voice was quite level, normal, and patient. Alcohol
[6616] took him in the legs, not the speech. "I can wait," his voice came
[6617] again. "Yes, I know they have a number. I have been in
[6618] communication with them before."
[6619]
[6620] "He is going to telephone to your mother," Leonora said. "He will
[6621] make it all right for her." She got up and closed the door. She
[6622] came back to the fire, and added bitterly: "He can always make it
[6623] all right for everybody, except me--excepting me!"
[6624]
[6625] The girl said nothing. She sat there in a blissful dream. She
[6626] seemed to see her lover sitting as he always sat, in a round-backed
[6627] chair, in the dark hall--sitting low, with the receiver at his ear,
[6628] talking in a gentle, slow voice, that he reserved for the
[6629] telephone--and saving the world and her, in the black darkness.
[6630] She moved her hand over the bareness of the base of her throat, to
[6631] have the warmth of flesh upon it and upon her bosom.
[6632]
[6633] She said nothing; Leonora went on talking. . . .
[6634]
[6635] God knows what Leonora said. She repeated that the girl must
[6636] belong to her husband. She said that she used that phrase because,
[6637] though she might have a divorce, or even a dissolution of the
[6638] marriage by the Church, it would still be adultery that the girl and
[6639] Edward would be committing. But she said that that was
[6640] necessary; it was the price that the girl must pay for the sin of
[6641] having made Edward love her, for the sin of loving her husband.
[6642] She talked on and on, beside the fire. The girl must become an
[6643] adulteress; she had wronged Edward by being so beautiful, so
[6644] gracious, so good. It was sinful to be so good. She must pay the
[6645] price so as to save the man she had wronged.
[6646]
[6647] In between her pauses the girl could hear the voice of Edward,
[6648] droning on, indistinguishably, with jerky pauses for replies. It
[6649] made her glow with pride; the man she loved was working for her.
[6650] He at least was resolved; was malely determined; knew the right
[6651] thing. Leonora talked on with her eyes boring into Nancy's. The
[6652] girl hardly looked at her and hardly heard her. After a long time
[6653] Nancy said--after hours and hours:
[6654]
[6655] "I shall go to India as soon as Edward hears from my father. I
[6656] cannot talk about these things, because Edward does not wish it."
[6657]
[6658] At that Leonora screamed out and wavered swiftly towards the
[6659] closed door. And Nancy found that she was springing out of her
[6660] chair with her white arms stretched wide. She was clasping the
[6661] other woman to her breast; she was saying:
[6662]
[6663] "Oh, my poor dear; oh, my poor dear." And they sat, crouching
[6664] together in each other's arms, and crying and crying; and they lay
[6665] down in the same bed, talking and talking, all through the night.
[6666] And all through the night Edward could hear their voices through
[6667] the wall. That was how it went. . . . Next morning they were all
[6668] three as if nothing had happened. Towards eleven Edward came to
[6669] Nancy, who was arranging some Christmas roses in a silver bowl.
[6670] He put a telegram beside her on the table. "You can uncode it for
[6671] yourself," he said. Then, as he went out of the door, he said: "You
[6672] can tell your aunt I have cabled to Mr Dowell to come over. He
[6673] will make things easier till you leave." The telegram when it was
[6674] uncoded, read, as far as I can remember: "Will take Mrs Rufford
[6675] to Italy. Undertake to do this for certain. Am devotedly attached to
[6676] Mrs Rufford. Have no need of financial assistance. Did not know
[6677] there was a daughter, and am much obliged to you for pointing out
[6678] my duty.--White." It was something like that. Then the household
[6679] resumed its wonted course of days until my arrival.
[6680]
[6681] V IT is this part of the story that makes me saddest of all. For I ask
[6682] myself unceasingly, my mind going round and round in a weary,
[6683] baffled space of pain--what should these people have done? What,
[6684] in the name of God, should they have done?
[6685]
[6686] The end was perfectly plain to each of them--it was perfectly
[6687] manifest at this stage that, if the girl did not, in Leonora's phrase,
[6688] "belong to Edward," Edward must die, the girl must lose her
[6689] reason because Edward died--and, that after a time, Leonora, who
[6690] was the coldest and the strongest of the three, would console
[6691] herself by marrying Rodney Bayham and have a quiet,
[6692] comfortable, good time. That end, on that night, whilst Leonora sat
[6693] in the girl's bedroom and Edward telephoned down below--that
[6694] end was plainly manifest. The girl, plainly, was half-mad already;
[6695] Edward was half dead; only Leonora, active, persistent, instinct
[6696] with her cold passion of energy, was "doing things". What then,
[6697] should they have done? worked out in the extinction of two very
[6698] splendid personalities--for Edward and the girl were splendid
[6699] personalities, in order that a third personality, more normal,
[6700] should have, after a long period of trouble, a quiet, comfortable,
[6701] good time.
[6702]
[6703] I am writing this, now, I should say, a full eighteen months after
[6704] the words that end my last chapter. Since writing the words "until
[6705] my arrival", which I see end that paragraph, I have seen again for
[6706] a glimpse, from a swift train, Beaucaire with the beautiful white
[6707] tower, Tarascon with the square castle, the great Rhone, the
[6708] immense stretches of the Crau. I have rushed through all
[6709] Provence--and all Provence no longer matters. It is no longer in
[6710] the olive hills that I shall find my Heaven; because there is only
[6711] Hell. . . .
[6712]
[6713] Edward is dead; the girl is gone--oh, utterly gone; Leonora is
[6714] having a good time with Rodney Bayham, and I sit alone in
[6715] Branshaw Teleragh. I have been through Provence; I have seen
[6716] Africa; I have visited Asia to see, in Ceylon, in a darkened room,
[6717] my poor girl, sitting motionless, with her wonderful hair about
[6718] her, looking at me with eyes that did not see me, and saying
[6719] distinctly: "Credo in unum Deum omnipotentem. . . . Credo in
[6720] unum Deum omnipotentem." Those are the only reasonable words
[6721] she uttered; those are the only words, it appears, that she ever will
[6722] utter. I suppose that they are reasonable words; it must be
[6723] extraordinarily reasonable for her, if she can say that she believes
[6724] in an Omnipotent Deity. Well, there it is. I am very tired of it. all.
[6725]
[6726]
[6727] For, I daresay, all this may sound romantic, but it is tiring, tiring,
[6728] tiring to have been in the midst of it; to have taken the tickets; to
[6729] have caught the trains; to have chosen the cabins; to have
[6730] consulted the purser and the stewards as to diet for the quiescent
[6731] patient who did nothing but announce her belief in an Omnipotent
[6732] Deity. That may sound romantic--but it is just a record of fatigue.
[6733]
[6734] I don't know why I should always be selected to be serviceable. I
[6735] don't resent it--but I have never been the least good. Florence
[6736] selected me for her own purposes, and I was no good to her;
[6737] Edward called me to come and have a chat with him, and I
[6738] couldn't stop him cutting his throat.
[6739]
[6740] And then, one day eighteen months ago, I was quietly writing in
[6741] my room at Branshaw when Leonora came to me with a letter. It
[6742] was a very pathetic letter from Colonel Rufford about Nancy.
[6743] Colonel Rufford had left the army and had taken up an
[6744] appointment at a tea-planting estate in Ceylon. His letter was
[6745] pathetic because it was so brief, so inarticulate, and so
[6746] business-like. He had gone down to the boat to meet his daughter,
[6747] and had found his daughter quite mad. It appears that at Aden
[6748] Nancy had seen in a local paper the news of Edward's suicide. In
[6749] the Red Sea she had gone mad. She had remarked to Mrs Colonel
[6750] Luton, who was chaperoning her, that she believed in an
[6751] Omnipotent Deity. She hadn't made any fuss; her eyes were quite
[6752] dry and glassy. Even when she was mad Nancy could behave
[6753] herself.
[6754]
[6755] Colonel Rufford said the doctor did not anticipate that there was
[6756] any chance of his child's recovery. It was, nevertheless, possible
[6757] that if she could see someone from Branshaw it might soothe her
[6758] and it might have a good effect. And he just simply wrote to
[6759] Leonora: "Please come and see if you can do it."
[6760]
[6761] I seem to have lost all sense of the pathetic; but still, that simple,
[6762] enormous request of the old colonel strikes me as pathetic. He was
[6763] cursed by his atrocious temper; he had been cursed by a half-mad
[6764] wife, who drank and went on the streets. His daughter was totally
[6765] mad--and yet he believed in the goodness of human nature. He
[6766] believed that Leonora would take the trouble to go all the way to
[6767] Ceylon in order to soothe his daughter. Leonora wouldn't. Leonora
[6768] didn't ever want to see Nancy again. I daresay that that, in the
[6769] circumstances, was natural enough. At the same time she agreed,
[6770] as it were, on public grounds, that someone soothing ought to go
[6771] from Branshaw to Ceylon. She sent me and her old nurse, who
[6772] had looked after Nancy from the time when the girl, a child of
[6773] thirteen, had first come to Branshaw. So off I go, rushing through
[6774] Provence, to catch the steamer at Marseilles. And I wasn't the
[6775] least good when I got to Ceylon; and the nurse wasn't the least
[6776] good. Nothing has been the least good. The doctors said, at
[6777] Kandy, that if Nancy could be brought to England, the sea air, the
[6778] change of climate, the voyage, and all the usual sort of things,
[6779] might restore her reason. Of course, they haven't restored her
[6780] reason. She is, I am aware, sitting in the hall, forty paces from
[6781] where I am now writing. I don't want to be in the least romantic
[6782] about it. She is very well dressed; she is quite quiet; she is very
[6783] beautiful. The old nurse looks after her very efficiently.
[6784]
[6785] Of course you have the makings of a situation here, but it is all
[6786] very humdrum, as far as I am concerned. I should marry Nancy if
[6787] her reason were ever sufficiently restored to let her appreciate the
[6788] meaning of the Anglican marriage service. But it is probable that
[6789] her reason will never be sufficiently restored to let her appreciate
[6790] the meaning of the Anglican marriage service. Therefore I cannot
[6791] marry her, according to the law of the land.
[6792]
[6793] So here I am very much where I started thirteen years ago. I am the
[6794] attendant, not the husband, of a beautiful girl, who pays no
[6795] attention to me. I am estranged from Leonora, who married
[6796] Rodney Bayham in my absence and went to live at Bayham.
[6797] Leonora rather dislikes me, because she has got it into her head
[6798] that I disapprove of her marriage with Rodney Bayham. Well, I
[6799] disapprove of her marriage. Possibly I am jealous. Yes, no doubt I
[6800] am jealous. In my fainter sort of way I seem to perceive myself
[6801] following the lines of Edward Ashburnham. I suppose that I
[6802] should really like to be a polygamist; with Nancy, and with
[6803] Leonora, and with Maisie Maidan and possibly even with
[6804] Florence. I am no doubt like every other man; only, probably
[6805] because of my American origin I am fainter. At the same time I am
[6806] able to assure you that I am a strictly respectable person. I have
[6807] never done anything that the most anxious mother of a daughter or
[6808] the most careful dean of a cathedral would object to. I have only
[6809] followed, faintly, and in my unconscious desires, Edward
[6810] Ashburnham. Well, it is all over. Not one of us has got what he
[6811] really wanted. Leonora wanted Edward, and she has got Rodney
[6812] Bayham, a pleasant enough sort of sheep. Florence wanted
[6813] Branshaw, and it is I who have bought it from Leonora. I didn't
[6814] really want it; what I wanted mostly was to cease being a
[6815] nurse-attendant. Well, I am a nurse-attendant. Edward wanted
[6816] Nancy Rufford, and I have got her. Only she is mad. It is a queer
[6817] and fantastic world. Why can't people have what they want? The
[6818] things were all there to content everybody; yet everybody has the
[6819] wrong thing. Perhaps you can make head or tail of it; it is beyond
[6820] me.
[6821]
[6822] Is there any terrestial paradise where, amidst the whispering of the
[6823] olive-leaves, people can be with whom they like and have what
[6824] they like and take their ease in shadows and in coolness? Or are
[6825] all men's lives like the lives of us good people--like the lives of
[6826] the Ashburnhams, of the Dowells, of the Ruffords--broken,
[6827] tumultuous, agonized, and unromantic, lives, periods punctuated
[6828] by screams, by imbecilities, by deaths, by agonies? Who the devil
[6829] knows?
[6830]
[6831] For there was a great deal of imbecility about the closing scenes of
[6832] the Ashburnham tragedy. Neither of those two women knew what
[6833] they wanted. It was only Edward who took a perfectly clear line,
[6834] and he was drunk most of the time. But, drunk or sober, he stuck
[6835] to what was demanded by convention and by the traditions of his
[6836] house. Nancy Rufford had to be exported to India, and Nancy
[6837] Rufford hadn't to hear a word of love from him. She was exported
[6838] to India and she never heard a word from Edward Ashburnham.
[6839]
[6840] It was the conventional line; it was in tune with the tradition of
[6841] Edward's house. I daresay it worked out for the greatest good of
[6842] the body politic. Conventions and traditions, I suppose, work
[6843] blindly but surely for the preservation of the normal type; for the
[6844] extinction of proud, resolute and unusual individuals.
[6845]
[6846] Edward was the normal man, but there was too much of the
[6847] sentimentalist about him; and society does not need too many
[6848] sentimentalists. Nancy was a splendid creature, but she had about
[6849] her a touch of madness. Society does not need individuals with
[6850] touches of madness about them. So Edward and Nancy found
[6851] themselves steamrolled out and Leonora survives, the perfectly
[6852] normal type, married to a man who is rather like a rabbit. For
[6853] Rodney Bayham is rather like a rabbit, and I hear that Leonora is
[6854] expected to have a baby in three months' time.
[6855]
[6856] So those splendid and tumultuous creatures with their magnetism
[6857] and their passions--those two that I really loved--have gone from
[6858] this earth. It is no doubt best for them. What would Nancy have
[6859] made of Edward if she had succeeded in living with him; what
[6860] would Edward have made of her? For there was about Nancy a
[6861] touch of cruelty--a touch of definite actual cruelty that made her
[6862] desire to see people suffer. Yes, she desired to see Edward suffer.
[6863] And, by God, she gave him hell.
[6864]
[6865] She gave him an unimaginable hell. Those two women pursued
[6866] that poor devil and flayed the skin off him as if they had done it
[6867] with whips. I tell you his mind bled almost visibly. I seem to see
[6868] him stand, naked to the waist, his forearms shielding his eyes, and
[6869] flesh hanging from him in rags. I tell you that is no exaggeration
[6870] of what I feel. It was as if Leonora and Nancy banded themselves
[6871] together to do execution, for the sake of humanity, upon the body
[6872] of a man who was at their disposal. They were like a couple of
[6873] Sioux who had got hold of an Apache and had him well tied to a
[6874] stake. I tell you there was no end to the tortures they inflicted
[6875] upon him.
[6876]
[6877] Night after night he would hear them talking; talking; maddened,
[6878] sweating, seeking oblivion in drink, he would lie there and hear
[6879] the voices going on and on. And day after day Leonora would
[6880] come to him and would announce the results of their
[6881] deliberations.
[6882]
[6883] They were like judges debating over the sentence upon a criminal;
[6884] they were like ghouls with an immobile corpse in a tomb beside
[6885] them. I don't think that Leonora was any more to blame than the
[6886] girl--though Leonora was the more active of the two. Leonora, as I
[6887] have said, was the perfectly normal woman. I mean to say that in
[6888] normal circumstances her desires were those of the woman who is
[6889] needed by society. She desired children, decorum, an
[6890] establishment; she desired to avoid waste, she desired to keep up
[6891] appearances. She was utterly and entirely normal even in her
[6892] utterly undeniable beauty. But I don't mean to say that she acted
[6893] perfectly normally in this perfectly abnormal situation. All the
[6894] world was mad around her and she herself, agonized, took on the
[6895] complexion of a mad woman; of a woman very wicked; of the
[6896] villain of the piece. What would you have? Steel is a normal,
[6897] hard, polished substance. But, if you put it in a hot fire it will
[6898] become red, soft, and not to be handled. If you put it in a fire still
[6899] more hot it will drip away. It was like that with Leonora. She was
[6900] made for normal circumstances--for Mr Rodney Bayham, who
[6901] will keep a separate establishment, secretly, in Portsmouth, and
[6902] make occasional trips to Paris and to Budapest.
[6903]
[6904] In the case of Edward and the girl, Leonora broke and simply went
[6905] all over the place. She adopted unfamiliar and therefore
[6906] extraordinary and ungraceful attitudes of mind. At one moment
[6907] she was all for revenge. After haranguing the girl for hours
[6908] through the night she harangued for hours of the day the silent
[6909] Edward. And Edward just once tripped up, and that was his
[6910] undoing. Perhaps he had had too much whisky that afternoon.
[6911] She asked him perpetually what he wanted. What did he want?
[6912] What did he want? And all he ever answered was: "I have told
[6913] you". He meant that he wanted the girl to go to her father in India
[6914] as soon as her father should cable that he was ready to receive her.
[6915] But just once he tripped up. To Leonora's eternal question he
[6916] answered that all he desired in life was that--that he could pick
[6917] himself together again and go on with his daily occupations if--the
[6918] girl, being five thousand miles away, would continue to love him.
[6919] He wanted nothing more, He prayed his God for nothing more.
[6920] Well, he was a sentimentalist.
[6921]
[6922] And the moment that she heard that, Leonora determined that the
[6923] girl should not go five thousand miles away and that she should
[6924] not continue to love Edward. The way she worked it was this:
[6925]
[6926] She continued to tell the girl that she must belong to Edward; she
[6927] was going to get a divorce; she was going to get a dissolution of
[6928] marriage from Rome. But she considered it to be her duty to warn
[6929] the girl of the sort of monster that Edward was. She told the girl of
[6930] La Dolciquita, of Mrs Basil, of Maisie Maidan, of Florence. She
[6931] spoke of the agonies that she had endured during her life with the
[6932] man, who was violent, overbearing, vain, drunken, arrogant, and
[6933] monstrously a prey to his sexual necessities. And, at hearing of the
[6934] miseries her aunt had suffered--for Leonora once more had the
[6935] aspect of an aunt to the girl--with the swift cruelty of youth and,
[6936] with the swift solidarity that attaches woman to woman, the girl
[6937] made her resolves. Her aunt said incessantly: "You must save
[6938] Edward's life; you must save his life. All that he needs is a little
[6939] period of satisfaction from you. Then he will tire of you as he has
[6940] of the others. But you must save his life."
[6941]
[6942] And, all the while, that wretched fellow knew--by a curious
[6943] instinct that runs between human beings living together--exactly
[6944] what was going on. And he remained dumb; he stretched out no
[6945] finger to help himself. All that he required to keep himself a
[6946] decent member of society was, that the girl, five thousand miles
[6947] away, should continue to love him. They were putting a stopper
[6948] upon that.
[6949]
[6950] I have told you that the girl came one night to his room. And that
[6951] was the real hell for him. That was the picture that never left his
[6952] imagination--the girl, in the dim light, rising up at the foot of his
[6953] bed. He said that it seemed to have a greenish sort of effect as if
[6954] there were a greenish tinge in the shadows of the tall bedposts that
[6955] framed her body. And she looked at him with her straight eyes of
[6956] an unflinching cruelty and she said: "I am ready to belong to
[6957] you--to save your life."
[6958]
[6959] He answered: "I don't want it; I don't want it; I don't want it."
[6960]
[6961] And he says that he didn't want it; that he would have hated
[6962] himself; that it was unthinkable. And all the while he had the
[6963] immense temptation to do the unthinkable thing, not from the
[6964] physical desire but because of a mental certitude. He was certain
[6965] that if she had once submitted to him she would remain his for
[6966] ever. He knew that.
[6967]
[6968] She was thinking that her aunt had said he had desired her to love
[6969] him from a distance of five thousand miles. She said: "I can never
[6970] love you now I know the kind of man you are. I will belong to you
[6971] to save your life. But I can never love you."
[6972]
[6973] It was a fantastic display of cruelty. She didn't in the least know
[6974] what it meant--to belong to a man. But, at that Edward pulled
[6975] himself together. He spoke in his normal tones; gruff, husky,
[6976] overbearing, as he would have done to a servant or to a horse.
[6977]
[6978] "Go back to your room," he said. "Go back to your room and go to
[6979] sleep. This is all nonsense."
[6980]
[6981] They were baffled, those two women.
[6982]
[6983] And then I came on the scene.
[6984]
[6985] VI MY coming on the scene certainly calmed things down--for the
[6986] whole fortnight that intervened between my arrival and the girl's
[6987] departure. I don't mean to say that the endless talking did not go
[6988] on at night or that Leonora did not send me out with the girl and,
[6989] in the interval, give Edward a hell of a time. Having discovered
[6990] what he wanted--that the girl should go five thousand miles away
[6991] and love him steadfastly as people do in sentimental novels, she
[6992] was determined to smash that aspiration. And she repeated to
[6993] Edward in every possible tone that the girl did not love him; that
[6994] the girl detested him for his brutality, his overbearingness, his
[6995] drinking habits. She pointed out that Edward in the girl's eyes, was
[6996] already pledged three or four deep. He was pledged to Leonora
[6997] herself, to Mrs Basil, and to the memories of Maisie Maidan and
[6998] to Florence. Edward never said anything.
[6999]
[7000] Did the girl love Edward, or didn't she? I don't know. At that time I
[7001] daresay she didn't though she certainly had done so before Leonora
[7002] had got to work upon his reputation. She certainly had loved him
[7003] for what I call the public side of his record--for his good
[7004] soldiering, for his saving lives at sea, for the excellent landlord
[7005] that he was and the good sportsman. But it is quite possible that
[7006] all those things came to appear as nothing in her eyes when she
[7007] discovered that he wasn't a good husband. For, though women, as
[7008] I see them, have little or no feeling of responsibility towards a
[7009] county or a country or a career--although they may be entirely
[7010] lacking in any kind of communal solidarity--they have an
[7011] immense and automatically working instinct that attaches them to
[7012] the interest of womanhood. It is, of course, possible for any
[7013] woman to cut out and to carry off any other woman's husband or
[7014] lover. But I rather think that a woman will only do this if she has
[7015] reason to believe that the other woman has given her husband a
[7016] bad time. I am certain that if she thinks the man has been a brute
[7017] to his wife she will, with her instinctive feeling for suffering
[7018] femininity, "put him back", as the saying is. I don't attach any
[7019] particular importance to these generalizations of mine. They may
[7020] be right, they may be wrong; I am only an ageing American with
[7021] very little knowledge of life. You may take my generalizations or
[7022] leave them. But I am pretty certain that I am right in the case of
[7023] Nancy Rufford--that she had loved Edward Ashburnham very
[7024] deeply and tenderly.
[7025]
[7026] It is nothing to the point that she let him have it good and strong as
[7027] soon as she discovered that he had been unfaithful to Leonora and
[7028] that his public services had cost more than Leonora thought they
[7029] ought to have cost. Nancy would be bound to let him have it good
[7030] and strong then. She would owe that to feminine public opinion;
[7031] she would be driven to it by the instinct for self-preservation,
[7032] since she might well imagine that if Edward had been unfaithful
[7033] to Leonora, to Mrs Basil and to the memories of the other two, he
[7034] might be unfaithful to herself. And, no doubt, she had her share of
[7035] the sex instinct that makes women be intolerably cruel to the
[7036] beloved person. Anyhow, I don't know whether, at this point,
[7037] Nancy Rufford loved Edward Ashburnham. I don't know whether
[7038] she even loved him when, on getting, at Aden, the news of his
[7039] suicide she went mad. Because that may just as well have been for
[7040] the sake of Leonora as for the sake of Edward. Or it may have
[7041] been for the sake of both of them. I don't know. I know nothing. I
[7042] am very tired. Leonora held passionately the doctrine that the girl
[7043] didn't love Edward. She wanted desperately to believe that. It was
[7044] a doctrine as necessary to her existence as a belief in the personal
[7045] immortality of the soul. She said that it was impossible that Nancy
[7046] could have loved Edward after she had given the girl her view of
[7047] Edward's career and character. Edward, on the other hand,
[7048] believed maunderingly that some essential attractiveness in
[7049] himself must have made the girl continue to go on loving him--to
[7050] go on loving him, as it were, in underneath her official aspect of
[7051] hatred. He thought she only pretended to hate him in order to save
[7052] her face and he thought that her quite atrocious telegram from
[7053] Brindisi was only another attempt to do that--to prove that she had
[7054] feelings creditable to a member of the feminine commonweal. I
[7055] don't know. I leave it to you. There is another point that worries
[7056] me a good deal in the aspects of this sad affair. Leonora says that,
[7057] in desiring that the girl should go five thousand miles away and
[7058] yet continue to love him, Edward was a monster of selfishness. He
[7059] was desiring the ruin of a young life. Edward on the other hand
[7060] put it to me that, supposing that the girl's love was a necessity to
[7061] his existence, and, if he did nothing by word or by action to keep
[7062] Nancy's love alive, he couldn't be called selfish. Leonora replied
[7063] that showed he had an abominably selfish nature even though his
[7064] actions might be perfectly correct. I can't make out which of them
[7065] was right. I leave it to you.
[7066]
[7067] it is, at any rate, certain that Edward's actions were perfectly--were
[7068] monstrously, were cruelly--correct. He sat still and let Leonora
[7069] take away his character, and let Leonora damn him to deepest
[7070] hell, without stirring a finger. I daresay he was a fool; I don't see
[7071] what object there was in letting the girl think worse of him than
[7072] was necessary. Still there it is. And there it is also that all those
[7073] three presented to the world the spectacle of being the best of
[7074] good people. I assure you that during my stay for that fortnight in
[7075] that fine old house, I never so much as noticed a single thing that
[7076] could have affected that good opinion. And even when I look
[7077] back, knowing the circumstances, I can't remember a single thing
[7078] any of them said that could have betrayed them. I can't remember,
[7079] right up to the dinner, when Leonora read out that telegram--not
[7080] the tremor of an eyelash, not the shaking of a hand. It was just a
[7081] pleasant country house-party.
[7082]
[7083] And Leonora kept it up jolly well, for even longer than that--she
[7084] kept it up as far as I was concerned until eight days after Edward's
[7085] funeral. Immediately after that particular dinner--the dinner at
[7086] which I received the announcement that Nancy was going to leave
[7087] for India on the following day--I asked Leonora to let me have a
[7088] word with her. She took me into her little sitting-room and I then
[7089] said--I spare you the record of my emotions--that she was aware
[7090] that I wished to marry Nancy; that she had seemed to favour my
[7091] suit and that it appeared to be rather a waste of money upon tickets
[7092] and rather a waste of time upon travel to let the girl go to India if
[7093] Leonora thought that there was any chance of her marrying me.
[7094]
[7095] And Leonora, I assure you, was the absolutely perfect British
[7096] matron. She said that she quite favoured my suit; that she could
[7097] not desire for the girl a better husband; but that she considered
[7098] that the girl ought to see a little more of life before taking such an
[7099] important step. Yes, Leonora used the words "taking such an
[7100] important step". She was perfect. Actually, I think she would have
[7101] liked the girl to marry me enough but my programme included the
[7102] buying of the Kershaw's house about a mile away upon the
[7103] Fordingbridge road, and settling down there with the girl. That
[7104] didn't at all suit Leonora. She didn't want to have the girl within a
[7105] mile and a half of Edward for the rest of their lives. Still, I think
[7106] she might have managed to let me know, in some periphrasis or
[7107] other, that I might have the girl if I would take her to Philadelphia
[7108] or Timbuctoo. I loved Nancy very much--and Leonora knew it.
[7109] However, I left it at that. I left it with the understanding that Nancy
[7110] was going away to India on probation. It seemed to me a perfectly
[7111] reasonable arrangement and I am a reasonable sort of man. I
[7112] simply said that I should follow Nancy out to India after six
[7113] months' time or so. Or, perhaps, after a year. Well, you see, I did
[7114] follow Nancy out to India after a year. . . . I must confess to
[7115] having felt a little angry with Leonora for not having warned me
[7116] earlier that the girl would be going. I took it as one of the queer,
[7117] not very straight methods that Roman Catholics seem to adopt in
[7118] dealing with matters of this world. I took it that Leonora had been
[7119] afraid I should propose to the girl or, at any rate, have made
[7120] considerably greater advances to her than I did, if I had known
[7121] earlier that she was going away so soon. Perhaps Leonora was
[7122] right; perhaps Roman Catholics, with their queer, shifty ways, are
[7123] always right. They are dealing with the queer, shifty thing that is
[7124] human nature. For it is quite possible that, if I had known Nancy
[7125] was going away so soon, I should have tried making love to her.
[7126] And that would have produced another complication. It may have
[7127] been just as well.
[7128]
[7129] It is queer the fantastic things that quite good people will do in
[7130] order to keep up their appearance of calm pococurantism. For
[7131] Edward Ashburnham and his wife called me half the world over
[7132] in order to sit on the back seat of a dog-cart whilst Edward drove
[7133] the girl to the railway station from which she was to take her
[7134] departure to India. They wanted, I suppose, to have a witness of
[7135] the calmness of that function. The girl's luggage had been already
[7136] packed and sent off before. Her berth on the steamer had been
[7137] taken. They had timed it all so exactly that it went like clockwork.
[7138] They had known the date upon which Colonel Rufford would get
[7139] Edward's letter and they had known almost exactly the hour at
[7140] which they would receive his telegram asking his daughter to
[7141] come to him. It had all been quite beautifully and quite
[7142] mercilessly arranged, by Edward himself. They gave Colonel
[7143] Rufford, as a reason for telegraphing, the fact that Mrs Colonel
[7144] Somebody or other would be travelling by that ship and that she
[7145] would serve as an efficient chaperon for the girl. It was a most
[7146] amazing business, and I think that it would have been better in the
[7147] eyes of God if they had all attempted to gouge out each other's
[7148] eyes with carving knives. But they were "good people". After my
[7149] interview with Leonora I went desultorily into Edward's gun-room.
[7150] I didn't know where the girl was and I thought I mind find her
[7151] there. I suppose I had a vague idea of proposing to her in spite of
[7152] Leonora. So, I presume, I don't come of quite such good people as
[7153] the Ashburnhams. Edward was lounging in his chair smoking a
[7154] cigar and he said nothing for quite five minutes. The candles
[7155] glowed in the green shades; the reflections were green in the
[7156] glasses of the book-cases that held guns and fishing-rods. Over the
[7157] mantelpiece was the brownish picture of the white horse. Those
[7158] were the quietest moments that I have ever known. Then,
[7159] suddenly, Edward looked me straight in the eyes and said:
[7160]
[7161] "Look here, old man, I wish you would drive with Nancy and me
[7162] to the station tomorrow."
[7163]
[7164] I said that of course I would drive with him and Nancy to the
[7165] station on the morrow. He lay there for a long time, looking along
[7166] the line of his knees at the fluttering fire, and then suddenly, in a
[7167] perfectly calm voice, and without lifting his eyes, he said:
[7168]
[7169] "I am so desperately in love with Nancy Rufford that I am dying of
[7170] it."
[7171]
[7172] Poor devil--he hadn't meant to speak of it. But I guess he just had
[7173] to speak to somebody and I appeared to be like a woman or a
[7174] solicitor. He talked all night.
[7175]
[7176] Well, he carried out the programme to the last breath.
[7177]
[7178] It was a very clear winter morning, with a good deal of frost in it.
[7179] The sun was quite bright, the winding road between the heather
[7180] and the bracken was very hard. I sat on the back-seat of the
[7181] dog-cart; Nancy was beside Edward. They talked about the way
[7182] the cob went; Edward pointed out with the whip a cluster of deer
[7183] upon a coombe three-quarters of a mile away. We passed the
[7184] hounds in the level bit of road beside the high trees going into
[7185] Fordingbridge and Edward pulled up the dog-cart so that Nancy
[7186] might say good-bye to the huntsman and cap him a last sovereign.
[7187] She had ridden with those hounds ever since she had been
[7188] thirteen.
[7189]
[7190] The train was five minutes late and they imagined that that was
[7191] because it was market-day at Swindon or wherever the train came
[7192] from. That was the sort of thing they talked about. The train came
[7193] in; Edward found her a first-class carriage with an elderly woman
[7194] in it. The girl entered the carriage, Edward closed the door and
[7195] then she put out her hand to shake mine. There was upon those
[7196] people's faces no expression of any kind whatever. The signal for
[7197] the train's departure was a very bright red; that is about as
[7198] passionate a statement as I can get into that scene. She was not
[7199] looking her best; she had on a cap of brown fur that did not very
[7200] well match her hair. She said:
[7201]
[7202] "So long," to Edward.
[7203]
[7204] Edward answered: "So long."
[7205]
[7206] He swung round on his heel and, large, slouching, and walking
[7207] with a heavy deliberate pace, he went out of the station. I
[7208] followed him and got up beside him in the high dog-cart. It was
[7209] the most horrible performance I have ever seen.
[7210]
[7211] And, after that, a holy peace, like the peace of God which passes
[7212] all understanding, descended upon Branshaw Teleragh. Leonora
[7213] went about her daily duties with a sort of triumphant smile--a very
[7214] faint smile, but quite triumphant. I guess she had so long since
[7215] given up any idea of getting her man back that it was enough for
[7216] her to have got the girl out of the house and well cured of her
[7217] infatuation. Once, in the hall, when Leonora was going out,
[7218] Edward said, beneath his breath--but I just caught the words:
[7219]
[7220] "Thou hast conquered, O pale Galilean." It was like his
[7221] sentimentality to quote Swinburne. But he was perfectly quiet and
[7222] he had given up drinking. The only thing that he ever said to me
[7223] after that drive to the station was:
[7224]
[7225] "It's very odd. I think I ought to tell you, Dowell, that I haven't any
[7226] feelings at all about the girl now it's all over. Don't you worry
[7227] about me. I'm all right." A long time afterwards he said: "I guess it
[7228] was only a flash in the pan." He began to look after the estates
[7229] again; he took all that trouble over getting off the gardener's
[7230] daughter who had murdered her baby. He shook hands smilingly
[7231] with every farmer in the market-place. He addressed two political
[7232] meetings; he hunted twice. Leonora made him a frightful scene
[7233] about spending the two hundred pounds on getting the gardener's
[7234] daughter acquitted. Everything went on as if the girl had never
[7235] existed. It was very still weather.
[7236]
[7237] Well, that is the end of the story. And, when I come to look at it I
[7238] see that it is a happy ending with wedding bells and all. The
[7239] villains--for obviously Edward and the girl were villains--have
[7240] been punished by suicide and madness. The heroine--the perfectly
[7241] normal, virtuous and slightly deceitful heroine--has become the
[7242] happy wife of a perfectly normal, virtuous and slightly deceitful
[7243] husband. She will shortly become a mother of a perfectly normal,
[7244] virtuous slightly deceitful son or daughter. A happy ending, that is
[7245] what it works out at.
[7246]
[7247] I cannot conceal from myself the fact that I now dislike Leonora.
[7248] Without doubt I am jealous of Rodney Bayham. But I don't know
[7249] whether it is merely a jealousy arising from the fact that I desired
[7250] myself to possess Leonora or whether it is because to her were
[7251] sacrificed the only two persons that I have ever really
[7252] loved--Edward Ashburnham and Nancy Rufford. In order to set
[7253] her up in a modern mansion, replete with every convenience and
[7254] dominated by a quite respectable and eminently economical
[7255] master of the house, it was necessary that Edward and Nancy
[7256] Rufford should become, for me at least, no more than tragic
[7257] shades.
[7258]
[7259] I seem to see poor Edward, naked and reclining amidst darkness,
[7260] upon cold rocks, like one of the ancient Greek damned, in
[7261] Tartarus or wherever it was.
[7262]
[7263] And as for Nancy . . . Well, yesterday at lunch she said suddenly:
[7264]
[7265] "Shuttlecocks!"
[7266]
[7267] And she repeated the word "shuttlecocks" three times. I know what
[7268] was passing in her mind, if she can be said to have a mind, for
[7269] Leonora has told me that, once, the poor girl said she felt like a
[7270] shuttlecock being tossed backwards and forwards between the
[7271] violent personalities of Edward and his wife. Leonora, she said,
[7272] was always trying to deliver her over to Edward, and Edward
[7273] tacitly and silently forced her back again. And the odd thing was
[7274] that Edward himself considered that those two women used him
[7275] like a shuttlecock. Or, rather, he said that they sent him backwards
[7276] and forwards like a blooming parcel that someone didn't want to
[7277] pay the postage on. And Leonora also imagined that Edward and
[7278] Nancy picked her up and threw her down as suited their purely
[7279] vagrant moods. So there you have the pretty picture. Mind, I am
[7280] not preaching anything contrary to accepted morality. I am not
[7281] advocating free love in this or any other case. Society must go on, I
[7282] suppose, and society can only exist if the normal, if the virtuous,
[7283] and the slightly deceitful flourish, and if the passionate, the
[7284] headstrong, and the too-truthful are condemned to suicide and to
[7285] madness. But I guess that I myself, in my fainter way, come into
[7286] the category of the passionate, of the headstrong, and the
[7287] too-truthful. For I can't conceal from myself the fact that I loved
[7288] Edward Ashburnham--and that I love him because he was just
[7289] myself. If I had had the courage and virility and possibly also the
[7290] physique of Edward Ashburnham I should, I fancy, have done
[7291] much what he did. He seems to me like a large elder brother who
[7292] took me out on several excursions and did many dashing things
[7293] whilst I just watched him robbing the orchards, from a distance.
[7294] And, you see, I am just as much of a sentimentalist as he was. . . .
[7295]
[7296] Yes, society must go on; it must breed, like rabbits. That is what
[7297] we are here for. But then, I don't like society--much. I am that
[7298] absurd figure, an American millionaire, who has bought one of the
[7299] ancient haunts of English peace. I sit here, in Edward's gun-room,
[7300] all day and all day in a house that is absolutely quiet. No one visits
[7301] me, for I visit no one. No one is interested in me, for I have no
[7302] interests. In twenty minutes or so I shall walk down to the village,
[7303] beneath my own oaks, alongside my own clumps of gorse, to get
[7304] the American mail. My tenants, the village boys and the
[7305] tradesmen will touch their hats to me. So life peters out. I shall
[7306] return to dine and Nancy will sit opposite me with the old nurse
[7307] standing behind her. Enigmatic, silent, utterly well-behaved as far
[7308] as her knife and fork go, Nancy will stare in front of her with the
[7309] blue eyes that have over them strained, stretched brows. Once, or
[7310] perhaps twice, during the meal her knife and fork will be
[7311] suspended in mid-air as if she were trying to think of something
[7312] that she had forgotten. Then she will say that she believes in an
[7313] Omnipotent Deity or she will utter the one word "shuttle-cocks",
[7314] perhaps. It is very extraordinary to see the perfect flush of health
[7315] on her cheeks, to see the lustre of her coiled black hair, the poise
[7316] of the head upon the neck, the grace of the white hands--and to
[7317] think that it all means nothing--that it is a picture without a
[7318] meaning. Yes, it is queer.
[7319]
[7320] But, at any rate, there is always Leonora to cheer you up; I don't
[7321] want to sadden you. Her husband is quite an economical person of
[7322] so normal a figure that he can get quite a large proportion of his
[7323] clothes ready-made. That is the great desideratum of life, and that
[7324] is the end of my story. The child is to be brought up as a
[7325] Romanist.
[7326]
[7327] It suddenly occurs to me that I have forgotten to say how Edward
[7328] met his death. You remember that peace had descended upon the
[7329] house; that Leonora was quietly triumphant and that Edward said
[7330] his love for the girl had been merely a passing phase. Well, one
[7331] afternoon we were in the stables together, looking at a new kind
[7332] of flooring that Edward was trying in a loose-box. Edward was
[7333] talking with a good deal of animation about the necessity of
[7334] getting the numbers of the Hampshire territorials up to the proper
[7335] standard. He was quite sober, quite quiet, his skin was
[7336] clear-coloured; his hair was golden and perfectly brushed; the
[7337] level brick-dust red of his complexion went clean up to the rims
[7338] of his eyelids; his eyes were porcelain blue and they regarded me
[7339] frankly and directly. His face was perfectly expressionless; his
[7340] voice was deep and rough. He stood well back upon his legs and
[7341] said: .
[7342]
[7343] "We ought to get them up to two thousand three hundred and
[7344] fifty." A stable-boy brought him a telegram and went away. He
[7345] opened it negligently, regarded it without emotion, and, in
[7346] complete silence, handed it to me. On the pinkish paper in a
[7347] sprawled handwriting I read: "Safe Brindisi. Having rattling good
[7348] time. Nancy."
[7349]
[7350] Well, Edward was the English gentleman; but he was also, to the
[7351] last, a sentimentalist, whose mind was compounded of indifferent
[7352] poems and novels. He just looked up to the roof of the stable, as if
[7353] he were looking to Heaven, and whispered something that I did
[7354] not catch.
[7355]
[7356] Then he put two fingers into the waistcoat pocket of his grey,
[7357] frieze suit; they came out with a little neat pen-knife--quite a
[7358] small pen-knife. He said to me:
[7359]
[7360] "You might just take that wire to Leonora." And he looked at me
[7361] with a direct, challenging, brow-beating glare. I guess he could
[7362] see in my eyes that I didn't intend to hinder him. Why should I
[7363] hinder him?
[7364]
[7365] I didn't think he was wanted in the world, let his confounded
[7366] tenants, his rifle-associations, his drunkards, reclaimed and
[7367] unreclaimed, get on as they liked. Not all the hundreds and
[7368] hundreds of them deserved that that poor devil should go on
[7369] suffering for their sakes.
[7370]
[7371] When he saw that I did not intend to interfere with him his eyes
[7372] became soft and almost affectionate. He remarked:
[7373]
[7374] "So long, old man, I must have a bit of a rest, you know."
[7375]
[7376] I didn't know what to say. I wanted to say, "God bless you", for I
[7377] also am a sentimentalist. But I thought that perhaps that would not
[7378] be quite English good form, so I trotted off with the telegram to
[7379] Leonora. She was quite pleased with it.
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