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 Temptations 
 
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 JOf^f 0L!VE1\ HOBBES 
 
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 /
 
 A STUDY 
 IN TEMPTATIONS 
 
 PSEUDONYM LIBRARY
 
 THE 
 
 PSEUDONYM LIBRARY. 
 
 Paper, 1/6 ; cloth, 2/-. 
 
 1. MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 2. STORY OF ELEANOR 
 
 LAMBERT. 
 
 3. MYSTERY OF THE CAM- 
 
 PAGNA. 
 
 4. THE SCHOOL OF ART. 
 
 5. AMARYLLIS. 
 
 6. THE HOTEL D'ANGLE. 
 
 TERRE. 
 
 7. A RUSSIAN PRIEST. 
 
 8. SOME EMOTIONS AND 
 
 A MORAL. 
 
 9. EUROPEAN RELA- 
 
 TIONS. 
 
 JO. JOHN SHERMAN. 
 
 11. THROUGH THE RED- 
 
 LITTEN WINDOWS. 
 
 12. GREEN TEA: A Love 
 
 Story. 
 
 13. HEAVY LADEN. 
 
 14. MAKAR'S DREAM. 
 
 15. A NEW ENGLAND CAC- 
 
 TUS. 
 
 16. THE HERB OF LOVE. 
 
 17. THE GENERAL'S 
 
 DAUGHTER. 
 
 18. THE SAGHALIEN CON- 
 
 VICT. 
 
 19. GENTLEMAN UPCOTT'S 
 
 DAUGHTER. 
 
 20. A SPLENDID COUSIN. 
 
 21. COLETTE. 
 
 22. OTTILIE. 
 
 23. A STUDY IN TEMPTA- 
 
 TIONS. 
 
 24. THE CRUISE OF THE 
 
 "WILD DUCK."
 
 JOHN OLIVER HOBBES i^^^^- 
 
 A STUDY 
 IN TEMPTATIONS 
 
 (j > y 
 
 by the author of 
 
 "Some Emotions and a Moral," " The Sinner's 
 Comedy.'' 
 
 '1 
 
 SECOND EDITION 
 
 LONDON 
 T. FISHER UNWIN 
 
 PATERNOSTER SQUARE 
 
 M Dccc xcni
 
 COPYRIGHT, 
 
 All rights reserved. 
 
 t ( 1 1 t 
 
 .tt etc tc<
 
 1 
 0^ 
 
 
 
 To A. 
 
 DESIDERIUM ANIM.B EJUS TRIBUISTI EI 
 
 DOMINE, ET VOLUNTATE LABIORUM 
 
 EJUS NON FRAUDASTI EUM. 
 
 VITAM PETIIT A TE, ET TRIBUISTI EI 
 
 LONGITUDINEM DIERUM IN 
 
 SjECULUM S^CULI. 
 
 February "Jth, 1892. 

 
 ' ' In order to judge whether what is said or 
 done by any character be well or ill, we are 
 not to consider that speech or action alone, 
 whether in itself it be good or bad, but also 
 by whom it is spoken or done, to whom, at 
 what time, in what manner, or for what 
 end. . . . 
 
 " To opinion, or what is commonly said to 
 be, may be referred even such things as are 
 improbable and absurd ; and it may also be 
 said that events of that kind are, sometimes, 
 not really improbable ; since, ' it is probable 
 that many things should happen contrary to 
 probability.' "— Aristot., Poet.
 
 AUTHOR'S NOTE. 
 *^ 
 
 In the brief sketches of Farmer Battle and 
 Miss Caroline Battle, the author's aim has 
 been to suggest, not to reproduce, a dialect ; 
 and by so doing he ventures to think he is 
 humbly following many great examples.
 
 PREFACE TO 
 SECOND EDITION. 
 
 ^^HIS little work has been 
 ^S^ received with such extra- 
 ordinary kindness, and the 
 author has beeti scolded 
 for its faults with such 
 generosity and grace, that 
 he could almost wish he might offend 
 his critics again, if 07ily for the honour 
 of being so wittily rebuked. There is 
 a story told of a man who begged his 
 wife to tell him his besetting sift, " In 
 07-der," said he, " that I may conquer 
 it, and so please you in all respects." 
 With much reluctance, and only after 
 many exhortations to be honest, the 
 lady replied that she feared he was 
 selfish. ^^ I am not perfect," said her 
 Misband, " and perhaps I am a sinful
 
 6 PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION. 
 
 creature, but if there is one fault 
 which I thank God I do not possess 
 it is selfishness. Anything but that / " 
 and as he spoke, he passed her the 
 apples — they tvere at luncheon — and 
 set himself to work on the only peach. 
 Now the author is in the saine frame 
 of mind with regard to the charge of 
 flippancy : he cannot bri7ig himself to 
 oiim that he is flippant : he longs to 
 be told his short- comings, he is most 
 eager to please his readers in all 
 respects, but he will not admit that he 
 is cyclical — anything but that. He is 
 by nature so extremely serious that, 
 like the good a?igel 7vho liked laughter, 
 he has thought it 7viser to curb his 
 dispositio7i at all events for the present. 
 \ A greater part of the book was com- 
 ' posed under the strain of bad health, 
 and all of it in circumsta?ices of pecu- 
 J liar aftxiety. If the author had 
 zvritteti as he felt and thought, the 
 result would have bee?i very far from 
 afnusing. And his sole ait?i has been 
 to amuse. In times of ilbiess, irrita- 
 bility, and grief, he has ofte?i cast 
 about him for some light readijig — 
 si?nple yet not altogether meaningless, 
 wireal yet ?iot impossible : he has 
 longed to draw a veil on actualities
 
 PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION. 7 
 
 and see a shadow-life frisking on tip- 
 toes^ foUoived by a dance of sorroivs 
 and a tnerty-making of cares. He 
 does not presume to say that he has 
 fulfilled his own desire in the following 
 pages, but the desire in question may 
 explain their tone. 
 
 In conclusion, this fantasia makes 
 no claim to the great title of novel, and 
 is, i?ideed, no more than it is called — 
 " A Study in Temptations " — and it 
 will be found that at least one for}n of 
 temptation, if fwt more, is dealt with 
 in each chapter.
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTA- 
 TIONS. 
 
 PROLOGUE. 
 
 WHICH CONTAINS ALL THE TRAGEDY 
 OF THE BOOK. 
 
 AJ? Y Cecilia ^aged seven- 
 teen y with whom lies 
 buried all the hope^all the 
 belief in God and good- 
 ness of her husband^ 
 Charles Sydney JenynsP 
 The grave-digger who spelled out 
 this inscription on the coffin, nudged 
 his companion, and they clambered 
 up the sides of the grave to stare 
 after a man, who, with dragging steps 
 and bent head, was slowly groping
 
 lO A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 his way out of the cemetery. He 
 avoided the path, and slunk round 
 and among the numerous mounds 
 and monuments, frequently stum- 
 bling, and often halting out- 
 right. 
 
 " Did you see 'is face ? " said the 
 elder of the grave-diggers ; " 'e ain't 
 a day more'n two-and-twenty. 
 'Tain't every one as marries so fool- 
 'ardy young as gits out of it so 
 easy ! " 
 
 His assistant, less philosophical 
 but more kindly, blinked his eyes 
 and gave a cheerless laugh. " 'E 
 pro'bly thinks," he said, " as 'e's 
 the 'ardest done-by in the 'ole 
 world. 'E don't see as it all 
 stands to reason, as you and me do, 
 bless yer. 'E only thinks as when 
 'e gits 'ome there won't be nobody 
 there ! " 
 
 " I knows some," said his senior, 
 with a grim smile, " as 'ud thank 
 the Almighty if they could go 'ome 
 and find the 'ouse empty ! They 
 wouldn't say nothink agin the 
 goodness of Gord, they wouldn't. 
 They wouldn't be writin' none of 
 this 'ere. They would be foldin' 
 their 'ands and sayin' as Gord's will
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 11 
 
 is for the best, and be-yaving their- 
 selves like Christians ! " 
 
 Then they resumed their work, 
 and in working forgot to morahse. 
 
 The object of their remarks, 
 meanwhile, having refused to drive 
 home in the soUtary mourning 
 coach which with the hearse had 
 formed the funeral procession, found 
 his strength so unequal to the task 
 of walking, that he sank on a bench 
 outside a public-house, which stood 
 conveniently near the entrance to 
 the cemetery. He was, as the grave- 
 digger had observed, quite young 
 and certainly not more than two- 
 and-twenty. He was tall, but some- 
 what bent — not that he stooped, 
 there was rather a leaning forward 
 of his whole body. His brilliant 
 eyes seemed to have burnt deep 
 into their sockets, and they cast a 
 flickering light on the pallor of his 
 cheeks, which looked the more pale 
 in contrast with his dark hair. 
 
 He was at an early stage of grief, 
 and he felt as though he were 
 two beings — one, speechless and 
 stricken ; the other, a mere spectator, 
 who philosophised, and mocked, and 
 wept, and laughed by starts and was
 
 12 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 only constant in watching. That 
 he was sorrowful, he guessed — but 
 what was sorrow ? He knew that 
 he had loved — yet what was love ? 
 He lived — and what was life ? Mary 
 was dead. Immortality might be, 
 but she once was. O lovely fact to 
 weigh against the ghost-like possi- 
 bility ! 
 
 To whatever end his thoughts 
 were tending, (and the way was 
 broad), they were diverted, for the 
 moment at least, by the potman, 
 who, moved by compassion, or 
 following his invariable custom in 
 dealing with mourners, came out to 
 tell him, that there was a private 
 room within, where he would find a 
 fire, writing materials, and the daily 
 papers. Jenyns, to his own amaze- 
 ment, but as the potman had fore- 
 seen, acted on the hint and followed 
 him into a small, musty room which 
 barely atoned for its stale odour, 
 its dismal light, and oppressive 
 warmth, by being empty. The 
 potman poked the fire, smoothed 
 out the Sportsman, stirred the ink 
 with the one quill in the pen-tray, 
 and, while thus exercising his hands, 
 had his eyes and his wits con-
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 1 3 
 
 centrated on the mysterious and 
 melancholy wayfarer. 
 
 The interest Jenyns had created 
 in the minds of the grave-diggers, 
 was slight compared with the sensa- 
 tion he had as unconsciously pro- 
 duced among the patrons of the 
 "Jolly Nell." (The original sign 
 had been the "Jolly Knell," but 
 this having been repudiated by the 
 present proprietor — an Irishman — as 
 Dutch spelling, the ^was painted 
 out.) Jenyns's bearing, appearance, 
 and expression were so unusual, and 
 his features so handsome, that had 
 the same gossips met him under 
 the most commonplace conditions, 
 they would still have paused to 
 guess his calling, or to wonder what 
 path lay before him. On this occa- 
 sion, however, the despair on his 
 countenance, the possible romance 
 connected with it, and the unlike- 
 ness between himself and the mean 
 — almost abject — circumstances of 
 the funeral, gave him a prominence 
 far greater, than if he had buried 
 his dead with every elegant sign of 
 still more elegant grief. 
 
 As the fendlady pointed out, had 
 he been really poor, he would have
 
 14 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 driven home in the carriage — a poor 
 man could not afford to miss such 
 chances ; further, he would not have 
 been alone, for his family, or at least 
 his neighbours, would have seized 
 the opportunity for a breath of fresh 
 air and a nice change : they would 
 have made it, in fact, a chastened 
 holiday-jaunt. She did not use 
 that particular phrase, but her nod 
 was to that effect. Her crowning 
 observation that he was a student, 
 or something of that, who had got 
 some young woman into trouble, and 
 the poor thing had died of a broken 
 heart, and he was being eat up by 
 remorse, was made in a whisper so 
 thrilling, that it pierced through the 
 thin door and reached Jenyns's sensi- 
 tive ear. He waited to hear no more, 
 but leaving half-a-crown (his last) 
 on the table, walked so quickly and 
 noiselessly out of the house, that 
 the group in the bar-room, who 
 were so eagerly discussing him, did 
 not notice his departure. 
 
 Once on the main road, he seemed 
 to gain a certain composure and 
 his strength of limb ; he walked 
 hurriedly and was, in fact, racing 
 against the thoughts which t-hreat-
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 1 5 
 
 ened every moment to outstrip and 
 overcome him. When he finally 
 halted it was nearly evening, and 
 he had reached a dingy dwelling 
 in one of the streets near King's 
 Cross. The neighbourhood was 
 poor and the door of the house 
 stood open — as doors may, when 
 there is little to offer friends and 
 nothing to tempt the thieving. 
 
 A small boy and his mother stood 
 by the area railings, and they both 
 looked after Jenyns as he passed 
 in. 
 
 " Mother," said the boy, tugging 
 at the woman's apron — " mother, 
 next time a lodger dies may I have 
 another half-holiday ? " 
 
 Jenyns heard the question, and, 
 smiling faintly, walked slowly up 
 the creaking staircase till he reached 
 a room on the fourth landing. He 
 crept in and gazed stupidly around 
 it : noticed that there was a cup- 
 board door half-open, a few medi- 
 cine bottles on the mantelpiece, 
 a pile of women's garments on a 
 chair, a white straw hat, trimmed 
 with ribbons, on the chest of drawers. 
 Inch by inch his eyes travelled 
 from the chair to the table, from
 
 1 6 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 the table to the floor, from the floor 
 to a pair of small, muddy shoes 
 with ridiculous French heels, from 
 the shoes to the bed, and there, as it 
 seemed to him, he saw her lying as 
 she had been for two days past, before 
 they lifted her into the coffin. 
 
 " God ! O God ! " he called. 
 
 But no God answered. 
 
 He bent over the imaginary form. 
 " Wake up ! " he whispered — "wake 
 up ! You are dreaming, that's all. 
 You have often dreamt before. 
 Wake up ! Mary ! Mary ! are you 
 so tired ? " 
 
 Outside the house he heard a 
 rustling, a strange shrieking and 
 wailing. Was it all the wind ? It 
 seemed to the half-crazed man a 
 Presence — a host of Presences 
 swarming in at the windows, down 
 the chimney, and gathering round 
 him. 
 
 " I do not fear you," he said ; 
 " there is no worse torment than 
 living. Where you are, Hell must 
 be, and you are everywhere. Pain 
 is nothing ; everything is nothing ; 
 You are nothing. But — damn you 
 — I will believe in you if you can 
 wake " — he pointed to the empty
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 1 7 
 
 bed — "if 3'ou can wake one oj 
 us:' 
 
 " I cannot," said a sorrowful voice. 
 Jenyns rubbed his eyes, and burst 
 out laughing. 
 
 " Oh, is it only you, Wrath ? " he 
 said. " What a fool I am ; I thought 
 you were the devil." 
 
 The man he addressed, and who 
 had followed him into the room 
 unperceived, was of middle height 
 and extraordinarily thin : his fea- 
 tures and form looked misty and 
 ill-defined, as though he stood 
 behind a cloud and were trying to 
 pierce through it. 
 
 "Would you have your wife live 
 again that she may die again ? " he 
 said, quietly — " that you may bury 
 her again ? " 
 
 " No, no," muttered Jenyns — " no, 
 no, not this again. A jump from 
 the window or a prick at my throat 
 would settle my mind for ever. If 
 there is a hereafter I would know it, 
 and if there isn't — well, I could not 
 feel the disappointment. Clay has 
 no illusions to lose. You see," he 
 added, " I have not called up the 
 devil for nothing ! " 
 
 Jenyns's idea of religion — picked 
 2
 
 1 8 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 from street-corners and Ingersoll — 
 began and ended with the doctrine 
 of Eternal Punishment. When he 
 was happy and thought himself an 
 enlightened believer in the possi- 
 bility of a Supreme Reason, he for- 
 got it ; when he was in trouble, he 
 could think of nothing else. Some- 
 times it filled him with panic, some- 
 times with desperation : more often 
 than all with a longing to be in the 
 Place of Torment — to know the 
 worst, to put an end to the tortur- 
 ing suspense and doubt. 
 
 " If the devil can answer your 
 curses," said Wrath, " why not 
 try whether God will answer 
 prayers ? " 
 
 " Cursing is quick," said Jenyns, 
 " and prayers are long. Call Satan 
 but under your breath and he comes. 
 But God — you may wear out your 
 knees and your voice before He wil 
 answer, and then He will give you 
 not peace but a sword, not ease but 
 a thorn in the flesh, not love but 
 chastisements ! The greater the 
 saint, the thicker the scourge! 
 Where's the fool who would pray 
 day and night for such blessings ? 
 Have I not grief enough and despair
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 1 9 
 
 enough but I must entreat for 
 more ? " 
 
 Wrath groaned. " Human nature 
 is so discontented!" he said: "I 
 have been starving for a month, and 
 I must own that this constant gnaw- 
 ing at one's vitals becomes tedious : 
 I would prefer a newer pain." 
 
 "Let us both pray for another 
 sort of anguish," said Jenyns, 
 " the good old monks were artistic : 
 they believed that variety was 
 beauty, so they occasionally skinned 
 a heretic before they boiled him ! " 
 
 Wrath accepted this as a sign or 
 returning cheerfulness. " The story 
 runs so well," he said, " I will not 
 be pedantic and press for your 
 authority. But it sounds like an 
 evangelical tract." He rose from 
 his seat and began to pace the floor. 
 Life to him was a pilgrimage, and 
 the fortunes and misfortunes of the 
 journey troubled him but little ; he 
 could not understand despair. 
 " Perhaps you are best alone," he 
 said ; " my mother used to say that 
 to be alone with grief was to live in 
 company with angels. I think she 
 knew ; she had a great deal to en- 
 dure. If I sell my picture we can
 
 20 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 run over to Venice together ; I 
 mean, of course, if you would care 
 to go with me. ... I do not wonder 
 this room is gloomy ; it has stolen 
 the odour of a dozen honest dinners. 
 Let us go down in the kitchen and 
 see the baby. I sketched her this 
 morning ; here it is : ' Study of 
 an Infant Genius : aged four 
 days.' " 
 
 " Don't talk of her," said Jenyns, 
 fiercely ; "I never wish to look 
 upon her face again. She killed 
 her mother. ... I see no God in 
 nature — only Hell, cruel, relentless, 
 hideous." 
 
 " Bah ! " said Wrath. " Don't get 
 your nose in an artificial manure 
 heap and think you are studying 
 nature. If you take Zola for your 
 gospel and the gospel for fiction, 
 God must help you. I cannot. 
 Where is your spirit ? " 
 
 "I do not want to be a hero," 
 said Jenyns, sullenly, " or a saint ; 
 I want my wife." 
 
 " Heroes and husbands are made 
 by the occasion," said Wrath ; " no 
 one is born a husband and no one 
 is born a pious, homicidal hero ! At 
 first he is just man — man with a
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 21 
 
 birthright of seven deadly sins and 
 one small conscience. There never 
 was a saint, you may rest perfectly 
 sure, but he might have fallen 
 twenty times a day, if he had not 
 fought the enemy with fine courage. 
 Why don't you howl because the 
 trees are bare ? Who would think 
 that such orrim skeletons could ever 
 be bright with leaves again, or look 
 just as they did last year ? Yet 
 they will ; and so, when the time 
 comes, you will see your wife ; you 
 have only buried the dead leaves of 
 a soul." At no time an eloquent 
 man but always one to whom 
 speech was even a painful effort, he 
 went out of the room after this out- 
 burst. With the inconsequence of 
 the artistic reason he had a sudden 
 idea for a picture he was then de- 
 signing. 
 
 Jenyns was once more alone. He 
 gave a feeble laugh and hurried to 
 the window ; it was open ; he looked 
 down and shivered. Then he looked 
 up at the dark sky. 
 
 " God," he said, " if you are 
 there, and if you know everything, 
 you must be sorry for me." 
 
 He climbed up on the sill, held
 
 2 2 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 out his arms, and with a sob leapt 
 into the night and eternity. 
 
 A second later Wrath re-entered. 
 He was breathless, and was reading 
 a letter. 
 
 " Now admit," he said, " there zs 
 a God who answers prayers. We 
 can go to Venice. Tooth has sold 
 my 'Antigone.' Three hundred 
 
 His only answer was a shout of 
 horror, a hum of voices, a sound of 
 hurrying in the street below. He 
 leaned out of the window and un- 
 derstood the confusion. 
 
 ''Mater DeiP' he cried. "Ah, 
 don't groan ! Lift him gently ! 
 Take care ! Five pounds — twenty 
 — to the man who is quickest with 
 the doctor ! " 
 
 A man looked up from the crowd. 
 " I should like to see the five pound 
 /?«A" he said. A faint titter 
 greeted his wisdom ; an old woman 
 sobbed. 
 
 " Come away ! " said a girl, who 
 was hanging on the arm of her 
 sweetheart ; " there is always some- 
 thing to spoil my evening out ! " 
 
 The titter and the sob, the sweet-
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 23 
 
 heart's retreating footsteps, and 
 Jenyns's death moan, each gave 
 their note to the great unceasing 
 murmur of the city.
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 up-at-battle's 
 
 HE family of Drawne was 
 '^'^' not distinguished till the 
 time of the Reforma- 
 tion, when one Richard 
 ^r^^ 1/' or Drawne was reAvarded for 
 ^cv.;^?*^ his holy zeal in the sup- 
 pression of monasteries, by a large 
 grant of confiscated chtirch property, 
 including the Abbey of St. Wilfred, 
 with the manor-house, monastery 
 and demesne lands of the same, 
 amounting to four thousand three 
 hundred acres. He did not live 
 long to enjoy his honours, but died 
 of a fever, leaving his daughter, 
 Anne, sole heiress. In the reign of 
 Edward VI. this lady married the 
 Earl of Warbeck, and thus brought 
 her great wealth to that ancient 
 house which had become sadly 
 
 24
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 25 
 
 impoverished for various but un- 
 interesting causes. The heiress, 
 however, was very tenacious of her 
 female right, and left no legal loop- 
 holes by which her property could 
 become one with the Warbeck peer- 
 age : the Drawne acres were an 
 inheritance past comparison with 
 any empty earldom. But during 
 three centuries of struggle and 
 change which followed, male heirs 
 in direct succession never failed, 
 and the Earls of Warbeck, by in- 
 nocently anticipating the miracu- 
 lous policy of the Vicar of Bray, 
 not only held their possessions, but 
 escaped the inconvenient glories of 
 persecution and martyrdom. 
 
 At the time of our story, Henry 
 Fitzgerald George Vandeleur Shan- 
 non was 15th Earl of Warbeck, 
 and one Jane Shannon stood in the 
 inconsiderable relation of niece to 
 his lordship. Jane's father had 
 been the fourth son of the late Earl 
 — a kinship in itself sufficiently con- 
 temptible from the standpoint of 
 the heir, but when the said fourth 
 son married the daughter of a 
 yeoman-farmer, he lost even the 
 small right he had to twinkle in the
 
 26 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 Warbeck heaven, and was considered 
 — not a fallen star, but no star at all. 
 
 Since the object of such just in- 
 dignation and scorn was unable to 
 earn his own bread (from the 
 fact, no doubt, that he had half- 
 killed himself writing a Prize 
 Essay — " De Lahore "), he lived 
 on the charity of his yeoman father- 
 in-law till, as he himself expressed 
 it, he left a world where he was not 
 wanted, to abide with that sleek 
 host, the worm. In other words, he 
 died of his own grim humour, 
 assisted by a certain difficulty in 
 breathing, a trouble in his liver, a 
 pain in his head, and a grip at his 
 left side. His wife, who was with 
 child at the time of his death, post- 
 poned breaking her heart till she 
 had brought forth her little one, 
 and then she turned her sad face to 
 the wall, and died also. The care 
 of the child thus fell to the yeoman- 
 farmer, who, by this time, may be 
 said to have some claim on the 
 reader's sympathy. 
 
 Samuel Battle — such was his name 
 — came of sound stock. One John 
 Battle and Matthew his brother 
 had fought under Cromwell. Their
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 27 
 
 descendants, under the Restoration, 
 had, with two exceptions, abandoned 
 the field of war for the more tran- 
 quil, if less conspicuous, honours of 
 farming. Of the exceptions, one 
 was a certain Anthony, a scholar 
 and wit, who wrote some love 
 verses and a comedy (compositions, 
 which, dying to posterity, had left 
 their reputation like some unhal- 
 lowed spirit to haunt the family 
 conscience) ; the other, Nicholas, 
 was one of the some two thousand 
 clergy who were expelled from their 
 parishes for Nonconformity in 1662. 
 It was from this Nicholas that 
 Samuel Battle, the yeoman-farmer, 
 took his descent. Jane Shannon 
 was heiress, therefore, to many con- 
 flicting dispositions. 
 
 Battle's farm, or, as it was known 
 in the district, " Up-at-Battle's," 
 lay some eight miles to the east of 
 Brentmore, a small watering-place 
 in the south of England, noted for 
 its scenery, its climate, and the 
 sleep-bringing mission of its air. 
 The farm-house was unpretentious, 
 and though presenting to a town- 
 trained eye an appearance of pic- 
 turesque antiquity, it was, in fact,
 
 28 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 an extremely ugly cottage of the 
 Victorian era, made to look rambling 
 and picturesque by means of the 
 numerous rooms, store-cupboards, 
 and outhouses added to it during 
 Battle's own lifetime. The pro- 
 perty, when he first came into 
 possession, had consisted of pasture- 
 land, a small orchard, and a large 
 yard. The greater part of the 
 original homestead (built about 
 1700) had been destroyed by fire, 
 and Battle's father, acting on the 
 advice of a young and second wife, 
 had completed the work of destruc- 
 tion, by building on its ruins the 
 aforesaid Victorian cottage. An 
 unkind rumour had it, that what 
 remained of the best parlour of the 
 first Mrs. Battle, could now be 
 recognised in the most retired por- 
 tion of the dwelling. 
 
 Samuel Battle, on coming into 
 his inheritance, was not slow to 
 show himself a man of singular 
 energy, perseverance, and shrewd- 
 ness : he was quick to see that 
 letting land was more profitable 
 than tilling it. He was also in 
 favour of small plots and short 
 leases — the advantages of which,
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 29 
 
 as he was careful to point out to 
 dubious tenants, cut both ways, 
 although they might occasionally 
 cut a bit deeper on one side than 
 on the other. An enigmatic saying, 
 which time and the increasing value 
 of the ground made clear. 
 
 His education, culled as it was 
 from the Scriptures, and guiltless 
 of School Board trimmings, gave 
 him a command of language, a 
 stern dignity and sterner refine- 
 ment, than could be found now in 
 younger men of his station, who 
 too often talk big words from their 
 favourite newspaper, mistake inso- 
 lence for independence, and swagger 
 for good breeding. Dr. Johnson's 
 saying that *' the Devil was the 
 first Whi.o: " was the first article 
 of Battle's political belief, and, a 
 staunch Nonconformist, he so far 
 availed himself of the right of 
 private judgment that where his 
 co-religionists read " Dozvn with 
 authority ^^'' he only discovered ex- 
 hortations to obedience. He was, 
 therefore, a Tory, but for no other 
 reason than because he did not 
 see how a professed Christian 
 could be anything else. From
 
 30 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 which it would seem that if Samuel 
 Battle did wrong he did it rightly. 
 
 At the time of which we write, 
 the inmates of the farm-house 
 numbered four, and were Battle 
 himself, his spinster daughter Miss 
 Caroline, his one grandchild Jane 
 Shannon, and a young boy named 
 De Boys Mauden, who was his 
 nephew by marriage — a relative as 
 distant as he was poor. 
 
 Jane Avas three years younger 
 than De Boys, and when he first 
 came to the farm-house, he was 
 seven, and she, four. He was hand- 
 some, but she was a plain little 
 creature, all eyes and legs, though 
 the eyes had fire, and the legs were 
 shapely. 
 
 The child as she grew up was 
 taught to read and write, to add 
 figures, to make butter and jam, to 
 do plain sewing, and to work 
 hideous patterns with Berlin wool 
 on blue canvas. When she was nine, 
 she was sent to a day-school, and 
 had lessons in drawing, French, 
 and music, and her education, on 
 the whole, was no less thorough 
 than that of many young ladies of 
 fashion. She could write, " The
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 3 1 
 
 gardener's wife has two children " 
 in a foreign language, and she, too, 
 in the course of time strummed 
 Heller's " Tarentella," the " Moon- 
 light " sonata, and Chopin's Valses. 
 She played them to De Boys long 
 before he had learnt the manners to 
 listen. 
 
 She was brought up as a Dis- 
 senter, but her father had been a 
 devout Catholic, and it had been 
 promised that when she arrived at 
 years of discretion, she would be 
 given every opportunity to hear 
 the claims of Catholicism. In the 
 meantime, however, no pains were 
 spared to warn her against Anti- 
 christ, the Mother of harlots, and 
 idolatry ; for the wives and daughters 
 of the deacons thought it a terrible 
 sign of more iniquitous practices to 
 come, when it was known that she 
 cherished her dead father's rosary 
 and crucifix. 
 
 Jane's instructor in the useful arts, 
 such as mending, darning, patch- 
 work, and the like, was her aunt, 
 Miss Caroline. Miss Caroline Battle 
 was what men call a sensible woman, 
 which is a way of saying that she 
 did not attach too much weight to
 
 32 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 their smiles, although she could 
 always smile in her turn. She was 
 comely, too, with soft brown eyes 
 and a pillow-like figure, which coun- 
 teracted the occasional sharpness of 
 her tongue. Miss Caroline, like 
 happy Peter Bell, beheld but did 
 not speculate : she tended her 
 garden, watched the stars, and 
 read two chapters of Scripture 
 every night of her life. She kept 
 hens, and ducks, and bees, and her 
 butter was the pride of the county. 
 vShe possessed a Maltese lace shawl, 
 and an illustrated Shakespeare, also 
 a set of Whitby jet ornaments, and 
 an amethyst brooch. These trea- 
 sures, however, she kept locked in 
 her wardrobe because they were 
 heirlooms, and as such were trea- 
 sured in silver paper. For light 
 literature she gave Jane " The Pil- 
 grim's Progress," "Lady Audley's 
 Secret," "Amy Herbert," "Paul 
 and Virginia," "Roderick Ran- 
 dom," "yEsop's Fables," "Robin- 
 son Crusoe," and, on Sunday after- 
 noons and anniversaries, Dante's 
 " Inferno," illustrated by Dorb. 
 The horrors of this last, while 
 they struck misery to Jane's soul,
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 33 
 
 were largely mitigated by the story 
 of Francesca de Rimini, which, 
 Miss Caroline thought, could only 
 be edifying, since, from all she 
 could gather, the whole Rimini 
 family were in Hell, and burning 
 examples of foreign immorality 
 and its just reward. Why so 
 gentle a being as Caroline Battle 
 should take satisfaction, so deep- 
 reaching that it amounted to plea- 
 sure, in a tale which for exciting 
 pity and terror is hardly to be 
 matched, can only be accounted 
 for on the ground, that Hell and 
 sin, as actualities, were so impos- 
 sible to her imagination, that she 
 believed in one and disapproved 
 of the other as a child swallows 
 medicine, and " hates " porridge. 
 
 To Jane, however, whose cha- 
 racter was of a very different cast 
 — for she saw everything through 
 the rainbow haze of her own 
 moods — the idea of being damned 
 for love became so familiar and so 
 fascinating, that to love without 
 losing one's soul (if, indeed, such a 
 thing were possible), seemed to 
 her dull, spiritless, monotonous, 
 and bumpkin like. To marry, to 
 
 3
 
 34 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS, 
 
 settle, to grow stout, and at the 
 last to be ^''Jane^ wife of the above ^ 
 aged 74. Until the day break and 
 the shadows flee away^ Unthink- 
 able prospect ! But to float in the 
 air through countless ages — a sight 
 to inspire poets and make them 
 swoon — that were a destiny worthy 
 the name ! She confided this 
 opinion to De Boys, who agreed 
 that it would be fine to swim in 
 the winds ; but he thought that a 
 girl hanging on his neck would 
 mar the gloriousness of the ex- 
 cursion. Such is the brutaHty of 
 man at fourteen. 
 
 Quite early De Boys had shown 
 a taste for learning, and had dreams 
 very far removed from the walls, 
 turnip-fields, and potato-beds of 
 Up-at-Battle's. He held very pro- 
 nounced views on literary style, and 
 wrote numerous sermons in the 
 manner of Gibbon, which Jane 
 considered far superior to any- 
 thing achieved by that historian 
 himself. In gayer moments he 
 attempted blank verse (in the Mil- 
 tonic strain), and composed two 
 acts of a tragedy — "Julius Caesar 
 in Britain " — in which Jane declared
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 35 
 
 that Julius Caesar sounded exactly 
 like De Boys, particularly in a fine 
 speech about women, which began, 
 " Hencc^ pampered minions^ born 
 of pride and folly^'' and ended, 
 "/ scorn such sof't-monthcd bab- 
 blers.'''' The third act (still un- 
 written) he assured her would be 
 the most tremendous of the five. 
 
 His own observation, helped by 
 hints from the neighbours, had 
 taught him very soon that he was 
 living on charity, and a sense of 
 gratitude to the Battles, no less 
 than his own self-pride, filled him 
 with a desperate ambition to be 
 independent, and make a name. 
 His father had been that sad 
 anomaly, an accountant with a 
 literary faculty ; his mother was a 
 poetess, who died in her effort to 
 rhyme "love" with "drudgery." 
 From both parents he inherited a 
 desire for the vague, and a disgust 
 for the tangible. 
 
 " Have you no pride ? " he said 
 to Jane one day, when she had 
 seemed more amused than awed 
 by his ambitious ideas. 
 
 " We must beware of pride," said 
 Jane, whohoped she sounded humble,
 
 36 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 " That is the right sort of pride 
 — to feel that you come of honest 
 people, and must bring no shame 
 to them," said the boy, hotly. "I 
 am not going to be the pauper of 
 the family ! " 
 
 " But you are a genius," said 
 Jane. " How can you expect to be 
 rich when you are a genius ? I 
 think you are very discontented." 
 De Boys sighed, but, remembering 
 her good qualities as a fighter, pitied 
 her weak sex and not her poor 
 spirit. 
 
 Some months after the foregoing 
 conversation, the curate of the 
 parish, driven to his wits' end by 
 the increasing wants of an in- 
 creasing family, was inspired to 
 offer young Mauden instruction in 
 the Classics, in exchange for Miss 
 Caroline's milk and butter. At 
 first she had shrunk from this 
 nefarious traffic in dairy produce 
 and the Pagan authors, but no 
 sooner had her common sense as- 
 sured her, that the plan was hugely 
 to the lad's advantage, than she be- 
 came as strongly convinced of its 
 innocence as she had been of its 
 impiety. She soothed her father's
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 37 
 
 unreasonable prejudices, which were 
 not in disfavour of learning as 
 learning, but of the time wasted in 
 its acquisition. If, as she pointed out, 
 De Boys worked at his books when 
 the rest of the family were sleeping, 
 and if the curate had no better 
 equivalent than Latin and Greek to 
 offer in exchange for food, and if 
 he was too proud to accept it as a 
 
 gift Her opening statement 
 
 alone occupied forty-five minutes. 
 Battle, who had set his face against 
 De Boys " poking out his eyes wi' 
 night work," and could find no 
 words to express his mean opinion 
 of the dead languages as weighed 
 against fresh butter, relented at the 
 first harrowing picture conjured up 
 to his imagination, by Miss Caro- 
 line's ingenious hints of the curate's 
 half-fed family. Her last mournful 
 prophecy that the unhappy man's 
 two girls would die of consumption 
 before the year was out, and the 
 baby have " rickets," was so soul- 
 piercing, that the worthy farmer 
 not only gave his consent to the 
 bargain in debate, but even ad- 
 mitted, that the curate might not 
 be a prophet in sheep's clothing of 
 
 ,i 4 V. «» < U' *■■*,
 
 38 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 the type we are so expressly warned 
 against in the Sermon on the Mount. 
 De Boys, whose burrs of know- 
 ledge picked up in the Town 
 Library, and in the local " Academy 
 for Young Gentlemen," had only 
 served to tease alike his intellect 
 and his spirit, saw a special Provi- 
 dence in the tutor, who was thus 
 dropped, as it were, from heaven 
 for his guidance. He hardly knew 
 whither his thoughts and plans were 
 leading him : the something ahead 
 was so vague in outline, and so far 
 away, that though he daily ap- 
 proached it nearer, it only seemed 
 part of the general distance, the 
 bit of high mountain beyond many 
 mountains, many roads and valleys. 
 For the present he only knew he 
 must work — work early and late, 
 never despairing, yet never hoping 
 too high — striving to do his best, 
 but leaving it for others to say how 
 good that best might be. Had he 
 a talent, and was it the one he 
 most coveted in the world? — 
 Would he ever be a scholar ? At 
 last one day, between blushes and 
 stammers, he asked his tutor whether 
 — after thirty years or so of close
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 39 
 
 application — he would know some- 
 thing. The Rev. FitzOrmond O'Nel- 
 ligan was one of those rare men, who, 
 void of personal pretensions, are 
 big with ambition for their friends. 
 He slapped his pupil on the back 
 with such force that had De Boys 
 been a student of the weakling 
 order, his earthly career would 
 have ended on the spot. 
 
 " You will be the foinest Grecian 
 in England," he said — " that is to 
 say, if ye'll only be patient. At the 
 Universitees now, the cry is all for 
 mere lads, and a text which Bentlee 
 would have approached with awe 
 and riverince, and given the best 
 years of his loife too, is now cobbled 
 up by any schoolboy in six weeks or 
 less. Avoid all such immoralitee. 
 Fasten your oies on the gloreeous 
 examples' of the past, and if you are 
 not noticed by this generation, there 
 will be some roise up in the future, 
 who will call your memoree blessed." 
 
 " What for ? " said De Boys, who 
 had fortunately mastered the art of 
 grinning inside. 
 
 " For being the one scholar," 
 said O'Nelligan, solemnly, "who 
 had the humanitee to keep his
 
 40 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 wisdom out of print, and who did 
 not regard the great masterpieces 
 of antiquitee as so many door-posts 
 for every dog to defile. The simile 
 is used by Erasmus." 
 
 This encouragement, delivered in 
 O'Nelligan's most impressive man- 
 ner (impossible to describe, and only 
 to be imagined by those who may 
 have encountered an Irishman with 
 the blood of two kings, eighteen 
 earls, and a Christian martyr in his 
 veins), gave De Boys the self-con- 
 fidence which he was too modest 
 to assume on his own warrant. It 
 must be owned, however, that his 
 tutor's instruction was, though 
 solid, excessively dull. The one 
 consuming passion of O'Nelligan's 
 life was grammar, and for his pupil's 
 leisure moments he had invented a 
 game on Comparative Syntax, which, 
 in his judgment, transcended chess 
 and threw whist on its death-bed. 
 Mauden felt, therefore, to his own 
 dismay, a something not wholly 
 unlike relief when, after three years 
 of hard reading, the excellent man 
 confessed that he had taught him 
 what he could, and that the time 
 was now come for him to show his
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 4I 
 
 mettle at the University. De Boys 
 rushed home, and with character- 
 istic impetuosity blurted out at the 
 dinner-table that he was going to 
 Oxford. 
 
 " What time do you start ? " 
 said the gentle Miss Caroline, who 
 wondered whether his journey could 
 have anything to do with the cow. 
 
 " To Oxford ! " thundered his 
 uncle. " To Oxford ! This comes 
 of listening to a curate's great 
 swelling words of vanity. You 
 know what the Apostle Paul saith, 
 that those who seemed to be some- 
 what, in conference added nothing 
 to him. Take heed by his experi- 
 ence. To Oxford ! And what will 
 you find there ? The lust of the 
 eye, the pride of life, and the vain 
 pursuit of vainer knowledge. The 
 wise using their wisdom to con- 
 found the weak, working, not to the 
 glory of God, but for the amazement 
 of the sinner ; each man a law unto 
 himself, and all in conflict with the 
 powers that be. Let me hear no 
 more blether about Oxford ! " 
 
 Having finished his harangue, 
 which he had delivered with such 
 fluency that Miss Caroline suspected
 
 42 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 it had long been prepared for some 
 such crisis, he left the room. De 
 Boys, a little pale but not less de- 
 termined in expression, went about 
 his usual afternoon employment, 
 which, since it had all to do with 
 the farm, made it seem as though 
 " Up-at-Battle's " were, after all, 
 the one reality in life, and his 
 dream of a University career, a 
 dream indeed, nay more, the very 
 town of Oxford a figment of his 
 imagination. At tea-time he did 
 not feel hungry ; he walked instead 
 to his favourite peak on the cliff, 
 and sat there, gazing gloomily at 
 the dancing sea. He was roused by 
 a tap on his shoulder : he turned 
 and saw Jane.
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 WHICH CONTAINS SOME SERIOUS 
 VANITY. 
 
 ■ ANE had started from 
 home with her hair in 
 a plait, but the wind, 
 her quick walking, and 
 jt^^^^f^l her natural impatience 
 of restraint, had shaken 
 it free, and it now hung, neither 
 curled nor crimped, yet far from 
 straight, in one lively, glimmering 
 mass below her waist. Her gown 
 was of white cotton, and was so 
 clean that it still smelt of the iron- 
 ing-board, and so outgrown that it 
 did not reach her ankles by an inch, 
 — perhaps more. The ankles, how- 
 ever, were innocent, and did not 
 fear the light of day. A wide- 
 brimmed hat concealed the upper 
 part of her face, and only left visible 
 the tip of a lift-upward nose, a 
 
 43
 
 44 A STUDY IN TEMrXATIONS. 
 
 round chin, and a finely-cut, but 
 still childish mouth. Her cheeks 
 and throat, though delicate in grain, 
 were well browned, and while by 
 no means rustic in mien, she looked 
 what indeed she was — a daughter 
 of the sun and rain. Jane was not 
 beautiful ; or rather, there was too 
 much strangeness in her beauty, to 
 make her seem so at first sight : 
 reddish hair and a dusky face make 
 an odd combination. There was an 
 atmosphere of strength and sweet- 
 ness about her which swept over 
 the heart-sick De Boys like a moun- 
 tain breeze ; he drew a long breath, 
 and wondered at the change in the 
 weather. 
 
 " It is time to go home," he said. 
 She swallowed her mortification : 
 she had sought him in order to 
 offer her sympath5^ 
 
 " Why don't you go, then ? " she 
 said, as promptly. 
 
 He made several thrusts at the 
 meek earth with his heavy walking- 
 stick. *' You know," he said, " your 
 grandfather does not hke you to be 
 out late." 
 
 "I can fight my own battles," 
 said Jane, tossing her head.
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 45 
 
 De Boys shrugged his shoulders, 
 and tried to frown down his rising 
 colour ; he also turned on his heel 
 and walked away. 
 
 " De Boys," she said, pursuing — 
 " De Boys ... I suppose you think 
 I am a cat ? " 
 
 " I hate cats," he said, evasively. 
 
 " Do you hate me f " 
 
 The pause which followed seemed 
 borrowed from eternity. 
 
 " I could hate you," he said ; 
 " but, as it happens, I do not." 
 
 " Do you think I am ugly ? All 
 the girls say I am a fright ! " Her 
 smile had a crook at each end : one 
 signified amusement, the other con- 
 tempt. 
 
 "I have never thought about 
 your looks," said De Boys, with 
 more honesty than discretion. "I 
 suppose you are all right. But in 
 any case I would never call you 
 hideous ! " 
 
 Jane had a longing to be thought 
 pretty. Her ideal was the sweet 
 portrait of a young lady (on porce- 
 lain) which hung in a photogra- 
 pher's window she knew of, and 
 which represented a divine creature 
 with blue eyes, pink checks, and
 
 46 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 blonde hair, waved and parted 
 Madonna- wise. If she might only 
 look like that ! She had a fatal 
 admiration for the conventional 
 type angelic, being neither old 
 enough nor experienced enough to 
 know, that holiness occasionally 
 treads the human countenance on 
 crow's feet. 
 
 " How do you like me best ? " 
 she said. " This way," (she showed 
 her profile), " or that way ? " (She 
 looked him straight in the face). 
 
 He gazed. *' Are your eyes blue 
 or brown ? '' he said : " in some 
 lights they are brown, but that may 
 be the effect of your lashes." 
 
 " I think," she said, " they are 
 blue." 
 
 " They remind me of purple 
 heather," said De Boys, with a 
 certain dreaminess. 
 
 " Good gracious ! " said Jane, 
 blushing. 
 
 " And your mouth," he went on, 
 warming to the subject, " is " 
 
 " My mouth is a straight line," 
 she said, sharply. " And now we 
 must make haste ! " She started 
 ahead and began to hum. The 
 first strains were a reminiscence of
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 47 
 
 " Pleasant are Thy courts below," 
 but, as the melody swelled, it found 
 words which were De Boys's own, 
 and which were these : — 
 
 " Love is a bubble, 
 Love is a trouble, 
 Love is a sigh, 
 And love is a grin. 
 Love is sweet honey, 
 Love is cold money, 
 Love is a lie, 
 And love is a sin. 
 
 Love is a jig — 
 
 So tread you a measure ; 
 Love is a dirge — • 
 
 vSo fill you with grief ; 
 Love is bright wine — 
 
 To quicken your pleasure ; 
 Love's the North Wind — 
 
 And Man the dead leaf." 
 
 This effusion had been rejected 
 by the editor of the Brcntmore^ 
 Haddington^ and Mertford Express 
 on the ground that it was "too 
 reckless " ; but Jane thought it 
 extremely fine. Once, and only 
 once in the course of her singing, 
 she stole a glance at her com- 
 panion. 
 
 De Boys was tall and straight, of 
 careless but not awkward bearing.
 
 48 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 In countenance he looked like a 
 cherub who had talked long hours 
 with Puck — his expression was at 
 once so subtle, so artless, and so 
 discreet. A chuckle lurked in the 
 deep recesses of his eye, but the imp 
 rarely ventured to the surface. His 
 nose had an eager and inquiring 
 air, as though it were ever scenting 
 for an undiscovered country ; his 
 beardless lips were pliant, and told 
 his kind, pleasure-loving, and gene- 
 rous disposition. 
 
 He was the first to make a re- 
 mark. " I have been thinking," he 
 said, "what your mouth is like," 
 he blushed — " it is like a kiss made 
 incarnate." 
 
 " I hate kissing," said Jane, 
 hurriedly. " I was not born under 
 a kissing star. Kissing is silly," 
 
 " I fear it is," sighed De Boys. 
 
 "There is nothing to fear^'' said 
 Jane. " But what does it mean, or 
 what is the use of doing things 
 which mean so little ? " 
 
 " I think," said De Boys, trying 
 to look unprejudiced, " kissing 
 might mean a great deal if — if the 
 people cared for each other." 
 
 " Have you ever kissed any one
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 49 
 
 and meant a great deal ? " said Jane, 
 with anxiety. 
 
 De Boys glanced up at the sky. 
 " The clouds are brooding," he 
 said. " I would not wonder if it 
 rained. No, it is not my custom to 
 kiss women. I hate it quite as much 
 as you do." 
 
 She seemed sceptical. " Ah," she 
 said, " but men are different." 
 
 " How do yoti know," he said, 
 quickly. 
 
 " I cannot say /lOw I know it," 
 she answered, " because I must have 
 known it ever since I was born." 
 
 " Let us talk of something else," 
 said De Boys. 
 
 *' You began this. Kisses and all 
 such nonsense never come into my 
 head. I — I always skip the love- 
 making in novels." She uttered 
 this astonishing falsehood with 
 cloudless eyes. 
 
 " Oh ! " said De Boys. 
 
 " Why do you say ' oh ' ? I suppose 
 you don't believe me. I do not 
 care ; if you wish to quarrel, 
 quarrel. I will not say another 
 word." She turned away her head, 
 but De Boys heard the tears in her 
 voice. 
 
 4
 
 50 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 " Jane," he said, " I told you a 
 lie just now. I once kissed Lizzie 
 Cass, but it was very long ago." 
 
 " When ? " said Jane. 
 
 " At the hay-making. She stood in 
 my way, and, somehow — well, you 
 know how these things happen ! " 
 
 " No, I don't ! " she said, with 
 indignation. 
 
 " She isn't at all pretty ; and it 
 was only her ear ! Your ears are 
 like pink shells. But, unhappily, 
 they never get in the way." 
 
 "I should hope not," said Jane ; 
 " T want no kisses spared from Lizzie 
 Casses ! " 
 
 " Then, if I had not " 
 
 "But you have," she said, "and 
 that ends it." 
 
 " It was months ago," murmured 
 De Boys, " and I have changed since 
 then. Life looks differently." 
 
 "After all," said Jane, " you were 
 very honest to own it. But as for 
 Lizzie Cass, I always said she was a 
 bold minx. She ought to be ashamed 
 of herself ! " 
 
 " Undoubtedly I was to blame. I 
 ought not to have done it. I should 
 have had more self-respect." 
 
 "Oh, well," said Jane, "it is a
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 5t 
 
 girl's part to behave herself. But 
 whenever there is kissing, either at 
 the hay-making or at any other time, 
 I have noticed that it is always 
 some girl who starts it." 
 
 " That," said De Boys, " may be 
 true. But you are not like other 
 girls." 
 
 " De Boys," she said, faintly ; 
 "please don't think I am better 
 than I am. I deceived you just 
 now ; I did not mean " 
 
 His face grew hard, his voice cold, 
 his eye was dismayed. " Do you 
 mean," he said, "that you have told 
 me a lie ? What was it about ? " 
 
 " Oh, forgive me," she said, half 
 crying ; " I cannot think what made 
 me say it. But it was not the truth 
 — I do not always skip the love- 
 making in novels." 
 
 He stalked on with darkened brows. 
 
 "You lied to me," he said ; " it is 
 the principle I am thinking of. I 
 never thought you could lie — even 
 for a good purpose." 
 
 Jane put her lips together. " It 
 was a little one," she murmured. 
 
 " Ah, but now I know you are at 
 least capable of deceiving me, how 
 can I ever trust you so absolutely
 
 52 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 again ? " His voice had a mourn- 
 ful cadence. 
 
 " I don't know," she said ; " but— 
 look at me." 
 
 To look at her were fatal, and he 
 knew it. He stared undaunted and 
 with resolution straight in front of 
 him. 
 
 " Look at me ! " she entreated. 
 " Why ? " 
 
 " I want to see whether you are 
 so angry as you sound." 
 
 " Angry is not the word," he said, 
 " but grieved and disappointed. You 
 were my Ideal." 
 
 She began to cry. " If you had 
 told me I was your Ideal," she said, 
 " I would have been more careful. 
 It is so much easier to be ideal when 
 you know that some one appreciates 
 you." 
 
 Jane had not yet grasped the 
 truth, that man is a spectacle for 
 angels, and that he can carry his 
 heroism, his noble sentiments, and 
 his virtue into a wilderness, and still 
 not feel that he is being heroic and 
 sublime for nothing — a suspicion, 
 hov/ever, which will assail him for 
 more causes than he would care to 
 count, if he look for mortal appraise-
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 53 
 
 ment only. But love is two-headed 
 egoism, and to Jane the Ideal meant 
 De Boys's ideas. 
 
 She continued — " I do not want 
 you to think me perfect ; because I 
 am not, and I could not be, even to 
 please you. I am just like other 
 girls." 
 
 "Well," said De Boys, at length, 
 " perhaps I ought to be glad of any- 
 thing that makes you more like me 
 — that puts you nearer my level." 
 
 Jane looked troubled ; she was 
 beginning to realise, though dimly, 
 the responsibilities of an Ideal. 
 
 " De Boys," she said, " did you 
 ever think that I was better than 
 yourself?" 
 
 " Better ! It was not a question of 
 comparison at all." 
 
 " And now," said Jane — "what do 
 you think now ? " 
 
 He hesitated. " And now ? " she 
 asked again. They had reached a 
 gate which led into a kind of shrub- 
 bery. As she passed through, her 
 skirt caught on one of the spikes. 
 He was awkward and slow at re- 
 leasing her, and when they started 
 to walk again, he lagged behind. 
 " Are you tired ? " said Jane,
 
 54 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Are you angry ? " 
 
 u Yes." 
 
 " Very well ; then we are not 
 friends. But I would rather be so 
 than have deceit between us. And 
 you may as well know the worst of 
 me at once. I am much plainer in 
 the face than you think. Take a 
 good look at me this way." 
 
 She pulled off her hat, tugged 
 back her magnificent hair, and in 
 her anxiety to appear at her worst, 
 all but made a grimace. De Boys 
 did not seem so repelled as she had 
 expected. 
 
 "Take a good look," she repeated, 
 faintly. " I shall never have the 
 courage to do this again." 
 
 " I am angry," he said, looking, 
 " because I hate myself and because 
 you are still as far above me as " 
 
 She advanced a step towards him. 
 " I am not above you, De Boys," 
 she said, " I am herey 
 
 He needed no second reminder, 
 but with the agility of a practised 
 lover, caught her in his arms and 
 kissed her at random, and with an 
 ardour, which, though wholly beyond 
 the measure of her own childish
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 55 
 
 affection, filled her with nameless 
 fear. 
 
 "There!" he said; "but don't 
 ask me to look at you again. That's 
 kissing." 
 
 Jane fixed her eyes on his with 
 something like reproach, " I was 
 happier before," she said ; " much 
 happier, I almost wish you had 
 not," 
 
 " But I love you," said De Boys, 
 
 "Still," said Jane, "I wish you 
 had not, I shall remember it." 
 
 " So shall I," said De Boys. 
 
 " But I only want to remember 
 that I love you," said Jane ; " and I 
 want to remember it without dis- 
 tractions, and without kisses, which, 
 after all, may only mean that I am 
 standing in your way." 
 
 " Dearest ! " 
 
 " Yet I am glad," she went on — 
 " I am glad God made me a 
 woman." 
 
 " Why ? " 
 
 " That you might love me." 
 
 Once more a spell was in the air, 
 but this time she had experience. 
 
 " Come," she said, quickly, "we 
 shall be late, and the geese will want 
 their supper."
 
 56 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 Even thus does prose trample on 
 the skirts of passion. They hurried 
 on into the gathering twihght, on 
 and on. At the hill they joined 
 hands and ran, kicking, in imagina- 
 tion, the world (of their imagination), 
 in front of them as they went.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 TOUCHING THE MASCULINE CON- 
 SCIENCE AND THE FEiMININE REASON. 
 
 FARMER BATTLE, mean- 
 while, had retired to the 
 solitude of his own 
 chamber, to review a 
 domestic situation, which, 
 as Miss Caroline had 
 rightly guessed, he had foreseen, 
 and to some extent prepared for. 
 It may be, however, that he had 
 overlooked the serious difficulties 
 of the case, in the seemly joy ot 
 composing a speech which would 
 crush it ; at all events, he saw 
 plainly enough now, that the 
 trouble, so far from being ended, 
 had only begun. The outlook 
 perplexed, worried, and distressed 
 him more then his dignity was 
 willing, but as his nerves soon 
 
 57
 
 58 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 forced him, to admit. His first 
 act, therefore, on reaching his 
 room was to pour out and swallow 
 a large dose of a noxious prepara- 
 tion known as Gjnnp''s Eh'xz'r, and, 
 as he was able to gulp this down 
 with comparatively few qualms, it 
 assured him, that his system could 
 still endure the most extraordinary 
 and violent shocks without sur- 
 render. 
 
 But though he could recall the 
 physical man to duty, his mind 
 remained in rebellion, and he sat 
 down, with his body forward, his 
 arms resting on his knees, and his 
 hands clasped, the picture of doubt 
 and embarrassment. He was a man 
 of governed but primitive emotions, 
 and knew nothing of the thousand- 
 and-one complications and com- 
 binations, which the cultured mind 
 can make out of one rough passion 
 chopped into polished fragments. 
 His love was love, and his hate was 
 hate, and his rage was rage : to 
 excite either one was like pulling 
 out the stop of an organ. 
 
 Like most proud men he was 
 extremely sensitive, and he had 
 been quick to notice his nephew's
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 59 
 
 want of interest in farm matters 
 and the comfortable home — the 
 home which Battle himself had 
 spent his days in making, and 
 which was the crown of his earthly 
 labours. The old man did not 
 desire — nor indeed could he con- 
 ceive — a greater happiness than to 
 stand in his porch, and see the 
 smoke rising from his tenants' 
 chimney-pots, to gaze at the line 
 barn (once a miserable cowshed), 
 at the dairy, and at the model hen- 
 house built after his own design, 
 with a patent door ! Every twig 
 and every stone on the estate had 
 its value and association for him ; 
 every inch of the ground knew his 
 tread ; every corner, nook, and 
 cranny stood for something in the 
 sum of his experience. But De 
 Boys could sit opposite the barn 
 with his nose in a book ; he accepted 
 the dairy as a matter of course ; he 
 talked of crops and prize bullocks 
 as though land which did not 
 yield crops, and bullocks which 
 did not win prizes were things un- 
 heard of ; he ate his good fare and 
 slept between linen sheets, not with 
 gratitude, but as though he would
 
 6o A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 have been very scurvily treated if 
 he did not have such luxuries. 
 
 All this was a never-failing source 
 of bitterness to the old man : what 
 he gave he gave liberally ; he only 
 asked, when his gifts were accepted 
 so freely, that he should be re- 
 membered with like readiness as 
 the giver. There was certainly 
 nothing unreasonable in this desire ; 
 it was a very natural craving for 
 some recognition of the toil and 
 endeavour, the heart-aches and 
 struggles which had gone to the 
 making of his — as it must to every 
 man's — success. The race is not to 
 the swift, nor the battle to the 
 strong, and if it is the weak and the 
 slow who win, how is it done save 
 by the most painful efforts, the 
 sternest self-discipline, the most 
 dogged courage, and the most 
 touching patience ? Battle, unable 
 to analyse his feelings, was only 
 conscious that he had fought a 
 hard fight for sixty odd years, was 
 still fighting, and not one member 
 of his family showed, nor ever had 
 shown, the smallest knowledge of 
 it. The women he forgave, for two 
 (his wife and his eldest daughter)
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 6 1 
 
 were dead, one was a careful house- 
 wife, and the other, a sHp of a girl, 
 but De Boys — he could not forgive 
 De Boys. That his experience was 
 the common one of many husbands 
 and fathers only aggravated the 
 wound : he wished, in pardonable 
 if foolish pride, to think that his 
 family were altogether exceptional, 
 patterns of goodness, sobriety, dis- 
 cretion and — quality so necessary to 
 domestic comfort — obedience. 
 
 Much, no doubt, was to be said 
 for the farmer, but De Boys was not 
 without defence. He had appeared 
 on the scene when things were 
 prosperous, and he was still an un- 
 travelled youth of twenty ; he was 
 therefore quite unable to contrast 
 the old farm with the new, or 
 properly estimate a force of 
 character which he could only 
 know to be uncommon, by mixing 
 with the world. In De Boys's 
 green judgment all elderly relatives 
 were severe, a shade despotic, and 
 a little too religious ; all women 
 mended socks, made incomparable 
 pies, and scolded incessantly ; all 
 girls spent too much time titiva- 
 ting^ were feeble in argument, yet
 
 62 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 pleasing enough in their way. 
 
 These opinions he expressed with 
 
 much confidence, and, boy-hke, was 
 
 so proud of his power of criticism, 
 
 that he forgot he was directing it 
 
 against the beings he loved best in 
 
 the world. Boy-like, too, he was 
 
 not only very shy of shoAving his 
 
 affection, but he did not even know 
 
 that he had it. Healthy-minded 
 
 lads do not sit brooding over their 
 
 instincts till they are hatched into 
 
 Christian virtues and deadly sins : 
 
 their conscience warns them which 
 
 to follow and which to shun, but 
 
 the why, the wherefore, and the 
 
 psychological meaning of it all does 
 
 not trouble them in the least. 
 
 Thus, while De Boys would have 
 
 defended his uncle with the last 
 
 drop of blood in his body, he would 
 
 not have been able to say just why. 
 
 From this it will be seen, how far 
 
 the farmer and the aspiring scholar 
 
 were from a mutual understanding. 
 
 Battle's strongest impulse, after 
 
 the scene at the dinner-table, was 
 
 to order an immediate bonfire of 
 
 all the Pagan authors in the house, 
 
 and if it had been in his power to 
 
 include the curate among them, it
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 63 
 
 is not hard to guess how he would 
 have dealt with that aimable gentle- 
 man. To think that De Boys should 
 prefer the example of a weak-kneed 
 parson (who could hardly keep his 
 own body and soul together), before 
 that of his lawful guardian, whose 
 flourishing circumstances were the 
 best possible proof of his fitness to 
 advise ! Yet De Boys was a clever 
 lad, apt and well-spoken — if he 
 liked books better than the fields, 
 he had inherited the taste from 
 his pitiable father. For a moment 
 Battle wavered. If he could call 
 to mind one, even one, scholar who 
 was able to show gumption at a 
 crisis and keep a family in comfort, 
 he would let the boy go his own 
 gait. He was searching his ex- 
 perience for such a prodigy when a 
 doubt assailed him : was not learn- 
 ing sinful ? He consulted the third 
 chapter of Genesis and read no 
 further. Evidently, knowledge was 
 not for man. 
 
 The farmer's relief was un- 
 bounded : he could not only make 
 a virtue of his own ignorance, but 
 stand opposed to his nephew on 
 the vantage-ground of a great
 
 64 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 moral principle. He had a text — 
 " Ye shall not eat of W'' ; he could 
 not be held responsible for the hard 
 sayings of Scripture, his only duty 
 was to expound, and, when neces- 
 sary, enforce them. His mind was 
 fixed : he had settled the matter 
 for ever — there should be no more 
 weak relenting, no more teasing of 
 conscience. He knelt down by his 
 bed, and, thanking God for giving 
 him light on the subject, was 
 studiously careful not to ask Him 
 for more : he even besought the 
 Almighty to restrain his eyes from 
 wandering to other texts, which 
 might seem to contradict the sound 
 doctrine of the one before him. He 
 wound up by hinting, that if the 
 Almighty saw fit to remove the 
 Rev. Fitz Ormond O'Nelligan to 
 another parish — or sphere — he 
 (Samuel Battle) could only admire 
 His divine wisdom and clemency. 
 Strengthened and refreshed by this 
 prayer, he rose from his knees, and, 
 almost smihng, opened the door at 
 which Miss Caroline had been softly 
 tapping for some seconds. 
 
 " Well ? " he said. 
 
 Miss Caroline studied his face
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 65 
 
 with a half-fearful, half-imploring 
 expression. She had come to make 
 intercession for young Mauden, 
 
 " I want to say something about 
 the boy," she began. If the circum- 
 stances were ordinary, her heart, at 
 all events, was heroic, and it is the 
 heart which makes the situation, 
 
 "There is nothing to be said," 
 said her father, sternly ; " leave him 
 to me. There has been enough of 
 women's meddling as it is." 
 
 " I have a notion," she faltered. 
 
 " A notion ! The whole house 
 is swarming wi' notions. A man 
 cannot sleep nor eat for them : they 
 sour the milk and turn his bread to 
 ashes ; they confront him on his 
 threshold and break in upon his 
 converse with the Lord" — here he 
 fixed his iron-grey eye on Miss 
 Caroline — "they make his own 
 flesh and blood a heaviness and 
 his children's children as vipers I " 
 
 " The Lord forbid that a notion 
 o' mine should work such mis- 
 chief!" said Miss Caroline, drawingr 
 down her lip. 
 
 " I have no fault to find wi' you, 
 Carohne," said Battle, in a milder 
 tone, " but I do say that you ha' 
 
 5
 
 66 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 pampered that boy till he's fit for 
 nought, but to sip tea wi' curates, 
 and lose his liver seeking after lost 
 Niobes ! " 
 
 He had once overheard a brief 
 conversation between O'Nelligan 
 and Mauden, in the course of which 
 they had referred to the lost Niobe 
 of jEschylus. This mystery, Battle 
 had no doubt, was a heathen god 
 whom the world was all the richer 
 for losing. " The difference," he 
 went on, "so far as I can see 
 between a man wi' notions and a 
 man without 'em is this — the man 
 without ^ em pays the hill ! " 
 
 "I see no harm in book-learning," 
 said Miss Caroline, firmly ; "we are 
 told to add to faith, virtue, and to 
 virtue, knowledge, and " 
 
 Her father waved his hand. 
 " Beware of twisting the Word of 
 God," he said, hurriedly ; " there's 
 no telling what mischief may come 
 of perking up on a false meaning. 
 I don't hold wi' women quoting 
 texts," he added, " and I doubt the 
 wisdom of dragging Scripture in by 
 the ears whether it will or no. Ten 
 to one if it don't bite you for your 
 pains ! "
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 67 
 
 " Aye ! " said Miss Caroline, "and 
 for that reason ministers should 
 have learning." She drew a long 
 breath and flushed. "Why shouldn't 
 De Boys be a minister ? " 
 
 Battle plunged into thought. He 
 never, in his own phrase, " fooled 
 round the edge of an idea." 
 
 " A minister ! " he said, at last. 
 " What sort of a minister ? If De 
 Boys is the kind to be yanked 
 about by deacons he hasn't much 
 of the Battle stock in him ! " 
 
 "There's room for all in the 
 Church of England," said Miss 
 Caroline. "A doctrine or two 
 needn't stand in a man's way. 
 What's doctrine ? Why should 
 De Boys call himself a Dissenter 
 and spoil his chances, poor lad, 
 when he might just as well be Broad 
 and hold his own wi' the best ? 
 When folks begin to quarrel about 
 doctrine they are really spearin' at 
 politics. Any fool knows that ! " 
 
 " I will think it over," said Battle ; 
 "but I could never see bone of 
 my bone picked bare by deacons. 
 Whenever I see a deacon I always 
 think of the roaring lion seeking 
 whom he can devour. Look at
 
 68 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 Hoadley — a pleasant enough man 
 till they made him senior deacon. 
 There's very few men, Caroline, 
 that can bear authority if they 
 haven't been born with the shoul- 
 ders for it. If you gave a man 
 a nose who had never had one, he 
 would be blowing it all day. If De 
 Boys can see his way to do without 
 deacons — well, I will think it over." 
 Miss Caroline went downstairs, 
 scolded the dairymaid on general 
 grounds, called Jane to task for 
 tearing her frock the Sunday before, 
 hinted of dead parents turning in 
 their grave, made" a pudding with 
 as little sugar as possible, and finally 
 withdrew to her own room, where 
 she indulged in a good cry. Hero- 
 ism has a reaction. 
 
 Battle, however, had been so 
 fascinated by the idea of De Boys 
 entering the Church and " coming 
 the Rectory " on his own account, 
 that when his daughter had left 
 him, he once more opened his Bible 
 and found his thumb on the fol- 
 lowing sentence in Isaiah — " Their 
 strength is to sit stiliy 
 
 " The Lord's will be done," he 
 murmured. " It is not for me to
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 69 
 
 thwart the working of the Spirit. 
 If the boy's call is to the ministry, 
 he must obey it ! " 
 
 It would be tedious to recapitu- 
 late the numerous consultations, 
 plans, and hopes of which De Boys 
 was the object, not only for days, 
 but for weeks following. At first 
 he had been tempted to quarrel 
 with the profession so suddenly 
 forced upon him : his religion, like 
 the religion of the young, was an 
 untried force, and, as his idea of 
 God was somehow associated with 
 his Uncle Battle, it was largely 
 tempered with unutterable private 
 opinions. But though he had often 
 questioned the infallible justice of 
 the Almighty (with regard to fish- 
 ing on Sundays and the like), his 
 faith was so knit in his bones that 
 it was more valuable as a ruling 
 principle than any wider creed, 
 based on the mere mental accept- 
 ance of doctrinal truths. The fear 
 of God was before his eyes ; the 
 prospect, therefore, of becoming His 
 minister put no strain on his sin- 
 cerity. If it failed to stir his en- 
 thusiasm it was because his easy-
 
 70 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 going nature hung aloof from the 
 self-denial and hard work which, 
 oddly enough, he conceived to be a 
 clergyman's portion. 
 
 Where his books had formerly been 
 ordered aside for the most trivial 
 domestic duty, he was now frowned 
 at if he ventured to look up from 
 them ; if he showed the smallest 
 disposition to levity, the farmer 
 would remind him that it was time 
 to put away childish things and 
 reflect on the dignity of his calling : 
 at his approach gossip was silenced, 
 and Baptismal Regeneration, Pre- 
 destination, and Justification by 
 Faith became the lively topics of 
 conversation ; if he betrayed even the 
 mildest interest in " new trouser- 
 ings," references would be made to 
 Demas, who loved the things of this 
 world, and to the young man who 
 had great possessions. He began 
 to see that a reputation for virtue 
 and wisdom (however gratifying to 
 one's vanity), brings with it pains 
 and penalties so various, so exqui- 
 site, and so incessant, that Job him- 
 self would seem a false type of per- 
 secuted excellence, since he lived 
 longer than his plagues. De Boys's
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 7 1 
 
 patience, at no time of remarkable 
 endurance, would not have lasted 
 under the petty but fretting annoy- 
 ances which now formed his daily 
 lot, and which promised to grow in 
 severity as he advanced in grace, if 
 his determination to go to Oxford 
 had not been made with a firm 
 resolve to suffer all things rather 
 than fail to fulfil it. When the 
 time came to leave home, he went 
 with a sigh of relief so heartfelt, 
 that Miss Caroline mistook it for a 
 sob. 
 
 "The plum-cake is jvist inside the 
 bag," she whispered, " but the cur- 
 rant wine is at the bottom of the 
 box. I didn't put it on top because 
 — as you are going to be a minister 
 — it would not look well if the lid 
 flew open 1 " 
 
 He heard no more, for the driver 
 whipped up his horse, and, followed 
 by tears, blessings, exhortations, and 
 warnings, he rode off in the market 
 cart towards fame and the railway 
 station. He was so lost in fair 
 dreams of the future that he did 
 not notice Jane, who, by running 
 across the fields and jumping a few 
 ditches, had managed to reach a
 
 72 A STUDY IN TEMPTAtlONS. 
 
 certain tree which commanded a 
 fine view of the high-road. This 
 she had climbed, and there she sat 
 on a branch waiting for him to pass. 
 
 But while he did not see her for 
 dreaming, she could not see him for 
 tears. Thus her long run, and 
 her jumps, and her climb were for 
 nothing. 
 
 De Boys, however, had wished 
 her farewell the night before, and 
 he had felt the parting to the best 
 of his ability. He still felt it — dear, 
 sweet little Jane ! (she was tall) — but 
 now other matters were naturally 
 foremost in his mind. Jane, woman- 
 like, utterly unable to understand 
 this, thought him very unloving, 
 and decided to waste no more of 
 her affection where it was not 
 wanted. She was young — but seven- 
 teen in fact, impulsive, wilful, pas- 
 sionately fond of romances, but 
 singularly practical in her criticism 
 of life : weeping for her heroines 
 as heroines, yet scorning them not 
 seldom as fools, admiring the he- 
 roes, yet finding much to be said 
 for the villains, and displaying, for 
 her age, sex, and inexperience, an 
 unusual desire for strict — indeed
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 73 
 
 rigorous — justice. Even now, smart- 
 ing under De Boys's fancied indif- 
 ference, she blamed her own poverty 
 of attractions, not his callousness, 
 which, since she promised — to the 
 seeing eye — to be a beautiful woman, 
 was as wrong-headed and feminine 
 as it well could be. 
 
 As the days dragged on she rea- 
 lised how much De Boys had been 
 to her, how nmch of her supposed 
 independence had rested on his sup- 
 port, how much her courage had 
 fed on his sympathy, how every- 
 thing in her mind which gave her 
 the smallest satisfaction was not 
 her own at all, but borrowed from 
 him. And now he was gone, it 
 seemed as though the earth which 
 she trampled on as a right, had sud- 
 denly slipped away, and left her 
 without a footing, to sink, and sink, 
 and sink, as one does in a night- 
 mare. At first she saw a substitute 
 for De Boys in a tow-headed youth 
 who sang in the chapel choir, and 
 she talked to him of the books she 
 read, as she would to her lover, only 
 to grow absent-minded, however, 
 and wake to catch an unsympa- 
 thetic and wondering eye : phrases,
 
 74 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 jokes, and little words full of mean- 
 ing to herself and De Boys lost all 
 their point when exchanged with 
 her few friends in the village, and 
 very soon she learnt the absolute 
 dissimilarity in minds, and how 
 very little except weakness one 
 human being has in common with 
 another. 
 
 Jane had always found such balm 
 for all her small troubles in being 
 understood by De Boys, which 
 meant, no doubt, that he saw no 
 fault in her, and made a grace out 
 of every shortcoming — that is to 
 say, where her shortcomings affec- 
 ted others. He made nicer distinc- 
 tions in her offences against himself. 
 But in her dealings with the world 
 at large he always proved her in the 
 right, even when she knew herself 
 in the wrong, and thus when she 
 least agreed with him, he was most 
 consoHng. True, now he was absent, 
 he wrote to her, but the letters 
 were for family perusal, and even 
 though ^'' Do not forget the guinea- 
 pig^'' stood for " My very dearest^ how 
 I long to see you^'' it was a flimsy 
 substitute for a love-letter, her 
 own, and bristling with "dearests" in
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 75 
 
 plain English. Gradually restraint 
 showed itself in her replies: the 
 guinea-pig untimely died, De Boys 
 adopted a more learned tone, Jane 
 found him more difficult to answer, 
 she doubted whether she loved him, 
 and grew pale at the doubt ; spent 
 whole hours trying to prove that 
 she was perfectly happy without 
 him, and whole nights crying be- 
 cause she was not. 
 
 When she heard that he did not 
 intend to return home till the end 
 of his third term, she made no 
 comment, but brought her lips so 
 sharply together, that they lost their 
 look of childish indecision for all 
 time.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 IN WHICH ONE LADY TRIES NATURE, 
 WHILE TWO, DISCUSS HUMANITY. 
 
 [NE afternoon, in the fol- 
 lowing long vacation, a 
 lady Avas gathering honey- 
 suckle from a hedge in 
 a field near St. Albans. 
 She wore a pink cambric 
 confection^ artfully relieved with old 
 Honiton : with one hand she held 
 up her skirt and discovered a mo3t 
 elaborate silk petticoat ; on the 
 ground by her side was a lace 
 parasol and a pair of long kid 
 gloves. A hat, garnished with 
 velvet orchids and silk dandelions, 
 shaded her face, and was tied under 
 her chin with pale green ribbons ; 
 her hair, which was black and very 
 abundant, was loosely caught up by 
 a silver comb. In figure she was 
 tall and gracious, but one could 
 76
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. ^^ 
 
 have wished that her hips had more 
 of a jut and her shoulders less an 
 air of almost masculine resolution. 
 She had too much distinction to be 
 fashionable and too much style to 
 be stylish ; beyond any doubt she 
 was a personage. 
 
 She had filled her basket with 
 the flowers when her eyes fell on a 
 fine spray just beyond her reach. 
 The branch of a tree hung over the 
 hedge, and, by supporting herself 
 on this, she thought it might be 
 possible to clutch at the prize. She 
 was about to spring, when she was 
 startled by the sight of a young 
 man running towards her from the 
 adjoining paddock. Unobserved, he 
 had been watching her for some in- 
 definite space of time. 
 
 " Pardon me," he said, lifting his 
 hat, " but I fear you do not see that 
 the bough is broken." 
 
 " No," she said, with a baffling 
 smile, " I only saw the honey- 
 suckle ! " 
 
 He looked at her, knit his brows, 
 bit his hps, and then laughed. " So 
 you only saw the honeysuckle," he 
 said ; " your point of view is magni- 
 ficent ! " He had not intended to
 
 78 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 speak so familiarly, but she reminded 
 him so strangely, yet with so little 
 reason, of a certain Jane Shannon 
 he knew of, that he felt they were 
 already well acquainted. The lady, 
 however, unaware of her resem- 
 blance to Jane Shannon, gave him 
 a severe look. 
 
 " I never thought I could meet 
 any one," she said ; " I did not 
 know that there was any one in 
 Whetstone to meet. Besides, this 
 is not the high-road." There was 
 a note of haughtiness in her tone, 
 and her large, black eyes wandered, 
 apparently by chance, to a large 
 notice which faced them both — 
 " Trespassers will be Prosecuted.^'' 
 
 " I am a stranger here," said the 
 youth, flushing ; " they told me at 
 the station that I could get to The 
 Cloisters by crossing these fields. 
 I saw you were in danger, so I 
 spoke." 
 
 He took off his hat and turned 
 ever so slightly to go on. When a 
 man is at most pains to conceal his 
 admiration for a woman, he can be 
 most sure that she appreciates his 
 struggle to her finger-tips. The 
 lady instinctively pushed back her
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 79 
 
 hat, and gave him a longer, perhaps 
 a kinder, glance ; he remained. 
 
 She had a face of such spiritual 
 liveliness that its merely natural 
 charms of feature and colouring, 
 only seized on second thoughts. 
 They were the thin veil over a 
 sparkling radiance, which, whether 
 it were due to virtue, or wit, or 
 coquetry, was too dazzling for 
 Speculation — aged twenty-one and 
 a son of Adam. 
 
 " Did I understand you to say," 
 she said, " that you were on your 
 way to The Cloisters ? " 
 
 " Yes," he replied. 
 
 " Then you must be De Boys 
 Mauden." (He bowed.) "I am 
 Sophia Jenyns." 
 
 " What ! " he exclaimed, " the 
 new Lady Macbeth ? " 
 
 " The newest," she said, drily. 
 "You must know," she continued, 
 wondering at Mauden's extreme 
 astonishment, yet pleased, for she 
 could translate all things into flat- 
 tery — " you must know that I came 
 out to gather honeysuckle this after- 
 noon, because I wanted to see 
 whether I would be happier if 
 I were more like the primitive
 
 8o A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 woman. Every one is talking 
 about nature, so I thought I would 
 try it. I have been so bored : I 
 longed to be at home reading Hardy, 
 or St. Augustine, or Hegel, or 
 somebody.^'' 
 
 " Do you read Hegel ? " he said. 
 
 " I read everything," she replied, 
 " don't you ? " 
 
 " No," he said, and looked grate- 
 fully at heaven. 
 
 This young lad}' who was so far 
 from philosoph}' that she tried 
 nature, and so far from nature 
 that she longed for philosophy, 
 chuckled and picked up her flower- 
 basket. 
 
 " You Oxford men," she said, 
 " are more proud of what you have 
 vnt read than of what you have 
 read. Come, we can walk to The 
 Cloisters together. I hope you like 
 Lady Hyde-Bassett as well as I do." 
 
 " I should like her better if I 
 thought she had a heart : no woman 
 with a heart could have married Sir 
 Benjamin." 
 
 " Did you know him ? " said 
 Sophia. 
 
 " No," said De Boys ; " but every 
 one says he was the most disagree-
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 8 1 
 
 able man in the world ; so forbid- 
 ding and curt and imapproachable." 
 "I thought so once," said Sophia, 
 " till one day, when I was a child, I 
 heard him talking to Lady Hyde- 
 Bassett. I suppose they thought I 
 was too little to understand theni. 
 The}' were Avalking in the garden 
 and he asked her whether she would 
 rather be a pussy cat or a catty puss, 
 and she pinched his arm, and said he 
 was a good little thing, and it was a 
 pity that some of the old fossils he 
 knew could not hear him. And he 
 said, very solemnly, * God forbid ! ' 
 and she kissed his hand and said he 
 was an angel, but she wished he 
 would buy a new hat, although he 
 could only look lovely if he wore 
 pyjamas and a billy-cock ! And 
 he said, ' For God's sake, don't 
 talk so loud ! ' and she said, ' Let us 
 both say Damn with all our m.ight, 
 and then I will be quiet.' And they 
 said Damn, and she was quiet, and 
 then they began to talk about 
 Aristotle. That," she wound up, 
 " is a real celebrity really At Home. 
 So you see all scholars do not talk 
 like Casaubon in ' Middlemarch ' ; 
 they have their flippant moments, 
 6
 
 82 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 and get horribly tired of being 
 great ! " 
 
 No written account of Miss Sophia 
 Jenyns's artless prattle could convey 
 her melodious voice, grace of gesture, 
 dramatic force, and facial expression. 
 De Boys watched her, entranced ; it 
 was his first direct encounter with 
 spontaneous genius. And then her 
 fatal, too delicious resemblance to 
 Jane ! he could adore her for that 
 alone. She led the way and he 
 followed : a Will o' the Wisp would 
 have been a safer guide. 
 
 Lady Hyde-Bassett was an Ameri- 
 can by birth, and had received her 
 education in France. After much 
 travelling and many flirtations she 
 had married, at the age of two-and- 
 twenty,the distinguished invalid and 
 philologist, Sir Benjamin Bassett. 
 
 The Hyde was an inspiration 
 attached to a small property which 
 he had inherited towards the close 
 of his last illness. The marriage 
 had been eminently happy, but 
 before the Society of Antiquaries 
 had ceased to wonder at the devo- 
 tion of so young and modish a 
 woman to the apparently grim, the
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 83 
 
 certainly middle-aged, and, by in- 
 ference, dull hieroglyphic, he died. 
 His widow's grief was of the des- 
 perate order, but, possessing ample 
 means, she was able to wreak it by 
 building a marble tomb over his 
 bones, and founding a Hyde-Bassett 
 Scholarship for Greek Verse. To 
 perpetuate the deceased gentleman's 
 tolerant and unprejudiced temper 
 she also endowed, with equal gene- 
 rosity, a Roman Catholic School, a 
 Wesleyan Methodist Chapel, and 
 a Mission for the Suppression of 
 Secret Societies. When pressed to 
 give her reason for subscribing to 
 the latter, she said that Sir Ben- 
 jamin, to his sorrow, had belonged 
 to one. "But," she added, "the 
 rest is silence." With accomplish- 
 ments which only wanted an occa- 
 sion to reorganise Europe — or 
 destroy it — she preferred to live in 
 retirement and make matches, com- 
 parable only to Diocletian, who 
 found (if we may believe him) 
 greater happiness in planting cab- 
 bages than in ruling the Empire of 
 Rome. Her country house, knov.-n 
 as "The Cloisters, near St. Albans," 
 was, as it were, a home of rest for
 
 84 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 the most eminent in science, politics, 
 art, and literature of her day, for, 
 from her intimate knowledge of one 
 genius, she never committed the 
 error of making them seem common, 
 by entertaining more than one — of 
 his particular sphere — at a time. 
 The distinguished person, therefore, 
 who accepted her hospitality, never 
 laboured under the unspeakable ap- 
 prehension of encountering either 
 his nearest match, or worse, his 
 horrid better. 
 
 Now while Miss Sophia Jenyns, 
 of the Parnassus, was gathering 
 honeysuckle, her ladyship was read- 
 ing "The Logic of Hegel." The 
 room in which she sat was large, 
 and breathed a sweet odour of peace 
 and good housewifery. Its furni- 
 ture, hangings, and decoration, 
 though rich, were cf a modest and 
 even severe character, forasmuch as 
 the cushions, coverings, footstools, 
 screens, lamp-shades, photographs, 
 and gew-gaws appurtenant to a 
 modern boudoir were comfortable 
 and pleasing by their absence. 
 
 "i/«;2 is evil by nature,'^ she 
 read, "'and it is an error to 
 imagine that he could ever be
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 85 
 
 otherwise. To such extent as man 
 is and acts like a creature of 
 nature to that extent his whole 
 position and behaviour is wrong. 
 Nature is for man only the starting- 
 point which he must transform to 
 soinething better. The theological 
 doctrine of Original Sin is a pro- 
 found truths 
 
 She sighed, and looked up from 
 her book to gaze into a small silver- 
 framed mirror which stood on the 
 table by her side. Her complexion 
 was pale, her eyes brown, and her 
 hair prematurely grey. Some of 
 her lady friends said they believed 
 she thought she looked like Marie 
 Antoinette. Her years Avere thirty- 
 five, but a life of assiduous self- 
 discipline and self-culture (glorified 
 selfishness, in fact) had given her 
 the calmness and dignity associated 
 with the idea — if not the reality — 
 of old age. A woman so finished 
 in manner, dress, and bearing could 
 only be called artificial in compari- 
 son with the ordinary type, in the 
 sense that one might so describe a 
 sonnet as differing from a folk-song. 
 
 Meanwhile, the leaves of Hegel 
 were fluttering. Margaret, with a
 
 86 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 sigh, wrenched her eyes from the 
 mirror and fastened them once 
 more on " Original Sin." But 
 again she read no further, for a 
 lady entered the room. 
 
 Miss Bellarminewasnot a maiden 
 lady of that pathetic type who pour 
 out tea and who have once loved. 
 She was tall and of commanding 
 appearance : her figure was con- 
 sidered purely Greek. (Perhaps 
 this was because she had the good 
 taste to drape it with Parisian 
 millinery of modern date.) She 
 had really beautiful features if one 
 examined them separately, but as 
 a whole they appeared out of 
 drawing, as though they had been 
 picked off various antique divinities, 
 and stuck on her face at random. 
 Thus, her nose began too soon, and 
 her mouth ended too late ; whilst her 
 eyes, charming in colour and shape, 
 were so placed that they offered 
 one a constant temptation to shift 
 them either higher or lower. Her 
 expression was neutral, for her 
 character, like that of many 
 Englishwomen, slumbered behind 
 her countenance like a dog in its 
 kennel, to come out growling or
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 87 
 
 amiable as circumstances might 
 demand. She was highly accom- 
 plished, and spoke five languages 
 with one well-bred accent. The- 
 ology was her recreation, but Villon 
 the serious study of her life. Her 
 notes on this poet promised to be 
 the most exhaustive possible, and 
 "Bellarmine on Villon," it was 
 said, would be read like Coke on 
 Lyttleton, as much for the com- 
 mentary as the text. 
 
 " I am so glad to find you 
 alone," she said. " Sophia Jenyns 
 has gone out for what she calls 
 a prowl, and Wrath is playing 
 Bach in the music-room. What 
 a gifted man ! What is the re- 
 lationship between them, dear ? 
 I have heard every impossible 
 explanation." 
 
 Eliza Bellarmine was a discreet, 
 cold-blooded person who could 
 meet Nature face to face without 
 blushing, and wink at the frailties 
 of Culture. Lady Hyde-Bassett, on 
 the other hand, would only see evil 
 v.'here she wished to see it : when 
 she met unpleasant truths she rode 
 off on what she called her instincts, 
 and they carried her like Barbary
 
 88 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 mares. She did not reply to her 
 friend's question immediately. 
 
 " There is no truth in the story," 
 she said, at last. 
 
 "I have heard," said Miss 
 Bellarmine, "that there is more 
 than truth — there are diamonds ! " 
 
 " I thought, Eliza, you were 
 above such littlenesses ! Sophia 
 Jenyns is the most pure-minded 
 woman I know. She is not like 
 other geniuses — she is different." 
 
 " They are all different — with a 
 sameness. I have known thirty, 
 and they were all pure-minded, 
 and had, at least, three husbands 
 and an episode ! " 
 
 "We must not judge them," 
 murmured her ladyship ; " they are 
 so fascinating, and their husbands 
 are always so brutal." 
 
 " The artistic temperament," said 
 Miss Bellarmine, in measured tones 
 — " the artistic temperament is only 
 faithful for the purposes of local 
 colour — to experience fidelity, in 
 fact. Then the next step is to gain 
 some insight into infidelity. Unless 
 a genius is extremely religious she 
 is foredoomed to impropriety ! " 
 
 " Eliza," said Lady Hyde-Bassett,
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. Si) 
 
 "you have neither humour nor 
 imagination." 
 
 " None," said that lady, with 
 conscious pride. 
 
 " And yet you are editing a 
 poet ! " 
 
 The commentator smiled, which 
 the poet, could he have been 
 present, would not have done. 
 
 "But," said Miss Bellarmine, 
 who never left a subject unsifted, 
 "you have not explained the 
 relationship." 
 
 " Wrath adopted Sophia when 
 she was only four days old : her 
 father committed suicide, and her 
 mother died when she was born. 
 I blush for human nature when I 
 hear a man so maligned for a kind 
 action. He must have been very 
 poor at the time, for he had only 
 just sold his 'Antigone.'" 
 
 " I know all that," said Eliza ; 
 " and it was very noble on his part, 
 and all the rest of it. But Sophia 
 is no longer four days old ! " 
 
 " If they cared for each other, is 
 there any earthly reason why they 
 should not marry ? " 
 
 " Certainly. He may have a luna- 
 tic wife locked away somewhere, or,
 
 90 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 ill his extreme youth, he may have 
 married some low person who is too 
 respectable to divorce : nothing is 
 more likely. I am very sorry for 
 Sophia Jenyns, and more sorry for 
 him ; but I think they should either 
 be frank, or separate. If they think 
 they are wrong, they should bid 
 each other good-bye, but if they 
 feel they are right, they should have 
 the courage of their opinion. I 
 could respect them then, although 
 I might disagree with their con- 
 science. As it is — well, they evi- 
 dently know they are doing wrong, 
 since they dare not be candid. 
 And they must be wretched ! He 
 is far too honest a man not to be 
 miserable in a false position." 
 
 " I have listened, dear," said Lady 
 Hyde-Bassett, " because your senti- 
 ments are so excellent. But — first 
 swear you will never tell ! " 
 
 " I cannot give my word blindly." 
 " Then I will not tell you." 
 " Have I ever betrayed your 
 confidence ? " 
 
 " Never," said her ladyship ; " but 
 — this is a most profound secret." 
 
 " In that case perhaps you ought 
 not to repeat it."
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 9I 
 
 *' You are so aggravating, Eliza ! 
 Shall I tell you ? " 
 
 " That is a matter for your own 
 judgment." 
 
 " Never breathe it to a soul ! 
 Wrath and Sophia have been 
 married for two years." 
 
 " You astonish me," said Eliza, at 
 last, but without moving a muscle — 
 " you astonish me greatly. . . . But 
 I am inexpressibly relieved to hear 
 it. . . . Any children ? " 
 
 " No," said Lady Kyde-Bassett ; 
 "so it could not have been on that 
 account. . . . But now," she went 
 on, " we must talk of something 
 else : it would be very awkward if 
 either of them came suddenly in. 
 Have I told you about De Boys 
 Mauden ? He has just won my 
 scholarship : a most brilliant young 
 fellow ; they say he will be another 
 Porson. But he has been over- 
 working, and the doctor has insisted 
 on his taking a rest. So I have 
 made him come here. I sent the 
 brougham for him, but he told 
 Biffin he preferred to walk. He 
 cannot know the way, and, man- 
 like, would probably rather perish
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 ask 
 
 any 
 
 one to direct 
 
 than 
 him!" 
 
 " I shall be most interested to 
 make his acquaintance — most in- 
 terested. I know his name quite 
 well." She did not as a matter of 
 fact, but as a matter of principle 
 a commentator and an occasional 
 contributor to the learned reviews, 
 could not be ignorant of the 
 existence of a future Porson. 
 
 " He is very handsome," said her 
 ladyship ; adding, after a pause, 
 " when he has got his degree 
 I shall let him revise and aug- 
 ment all Benjamin's unpublished 
 manuscripts. I began them myself, 
 but my Greek is too Homeric ! " 
 
 "Mr. Mauden," announced the 
 footman.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 IN WHICH A LADY HAS A TANTRUM, 
 AND A GENTLEMAN PLAYS A FUGUE. 
 
 *'OPHIA 
 
 parted 
 
 JENYNS had 
 company with 
 De Boys in the hall, 
 and was now hurrying 
 towards the music-room, 
 where Wrath was playing 
 a fugue in masterly style. But 
 Sophia was in no mood for 
 harmony. She burst open the 
 door, flounced in, and put her 
 arms round her husband's neck. 
 
 "Tom," she said, "I have been 
 reconsidering what you said this 
 morning about making our marriage 
 public. I know myself so well that 
 I am sure I could never love you 
 again if you did. There is not a 
 correct bone in my body : it would 
 kill me to be called Mrs. Wrath — 
 simply kill me. I adore you and
 
 94 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 worship you and idolise you, 
 although you are my husband. 
 That I cannot help ; but to let 
 other people know it — oh, intoler- 
 able ! I will not be a British matron. 
 I will not be called virtuous. It is 
 no one's business whether I am 
 married or not — a lot of fussy, 
 prying, evil-minded old women — 
 let them talk ! I think of them 
 when I say, '/ heard the owl 
 scream and the crickets cry ' — no 
 wonder I make the whole house 
 creep ! Buh ! And, Tom — you 
 fascinating, lovely, wonderful 
 creature, I have just been flirting 
 with all my might, and by to- 
 morrow I shall be madly in love ! 
 Compared with you he is a 
 monster, but in your absence he 
 does very well. He is already 
 quoting Spenser, and his voice is 
 agreeable. Tell me you worship 
 me, and I will tell you the rest ! " 
 
 " Why don't you flirt with me, 
 dearest, and leave these young fel- 
 lows to their work ? " 
 
 " My soul," said his wife, " my 
 heart of hearts, you are the dullest 
 person to flirt with I ever met. I 
 never flirted with you in my life : I
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 95 
 
 half-tried it once by pretending to 
 love you. But I found it too easy 
 to pretend — hence our hideous, in- 
 artistic marriage certificate ! Never 
 refer to it if you have any regard 
 for my self-respect." 
 
 " Sophia, seriously " 
 
 "I will not be glared at, nor 
 frowned at ! How handsome you 
 are ! If you were not my husband 
 I would elope with you to-morrow. 
 What a mercy I met you before I 
 saw any one else. If I had met you 
 too late — oh, if I had met you too 
 
 late " She paused. " I am 
 
 afraid I would not have called it too 
 late ! " 
 
 "This is all very pretty," said 
 Wrath, "and you are, no doubt, 
 very adorable. But you must be- 
 have yourself ; other people do not 
 understand you as I do." 
 
 He was about eight-and-forty, 
 and looked older. His features, 
 though fine, were irregular ; his 
 poetic brow, his large and eminently 
 practical nose, the unrest in his dark 
 eyes, and the stillness about his 
 mouth betokened him the possessor 
 of an unusually complex disposition. 
 He was an extremely handsome
 
 g6 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 man, yet such was his simplicity, 
 that not all his wife's flatteries could 
 convince him that he was other 
 than plain. The absence of personal 
 vanity in an eminently self-conscious 
 age, when every hero sings his own 
 epic, had the curious effect of making 
 many people accept him at his own 
 estimate : they argued, from their 
 own experience, that a person who 
 was not his own greatest admirer 
 could not possess admirable charac- 
 teristics. 
 
 " But seriously," he said, secretly 
 enjoying his wife's brilliant, ever- 
 varying countenance — from the 
 artistic point of view she was a 
 constant joy — "quite seriously. You 
 must be guided by my knowledge 
 of the world. I must announce the 
 marriage, and so put an end to this 
 revolting gossip ! " 
 
 " Revolting gossip does not matter : 
 only facts are fatal — simply disas- 
 trous. Do not expose me to the hu- 
 miliation of being publicly branded'^ 
 as an honest woman ! " 
 
 His mouth twitched : there was 
 always too much sadness in Sophia's 
 jesting to make it downright laugh- 
 able.
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 97 
 
 " While people can talk about us," 
 she went on, " we give them an 
 opportunity to show their charitable 
 views of human nature, and so they 
 encourage us ; but if they once knew 
 the truth, no one would care to see 
 me act, and your pictures would be 
 called dull, I know ! " 
 
 "Where," he said, " do you learn 
 this cynicism ? It afflicts me beyond 
 words : it is utterly false, utterly 
 corrupt, utterly disgusting. You 
 certainly do not hear it from Lady 
 Hyde-Bassett." 
 
 She glanced at him swiftly, and 
 as swiftly glanced away. He had 
 coloured a little — no doubt from 
 annoyance. 
 
 "Lady Hyde-Bassett has not lived 
 my life," she said, catching her 
 breath ; " she was not born a pauper ! 
 Her father was not starved out of 
 his wits, and her mother did not 
 dance herself to death for a pound 
 a week." 
 
 " Sophia ! " 
 
 " Oh, I know you have always 
 been very kind to me. I am not 
 ungrateful." 
 
 " Do you talk of gratitude — to
 
 98 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 " I will talk of anything I like to 
 anybody ! . . . Have you asked 
 Margaret to sit for the Madonna ? " 
 " I have asked her to give me a 
 sitting or two — yes. But it is 
 merely for the shape of her face : it 
 would not be a portrait. Pray be 
 careful how you refer to the matter, 
 because I was studiously careful to 
 explain that I could not paint the 
 Madonna from any woman in the 
 world. It merely struck me that 
 
 Marg that Lady Hyde-Bassett's 
 
 face was peculiarly " 
 
 "Fiddlesticks!" 
 
 " If you are going to be peevish, 
 I think we had better not talk." 
 
 " You are very unkind to me. 
 And I have a frightful headache : I 
 can hardly see. 1 am sure this 
 place is unhealthy. ... I was only 
 thinking, why trouble Margaret to 
 sit, if you are not going to make the 
 picture like her ? What weald be 
 her object in sitting ? — she might as 
 well be a lay-figure at once. I am 
 afraid she will feel insulted." 
 
 *' She seemed to perfectly realise 
 what I meant, and was very amiable 
 about it." 
 
 " Naturally ! She could hardly let
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 99 
 
 you see that she was annoyed — in 
 her own house, and when you are 
 a guest ! . . . Why can't I sit for 
 you ? " 
 
 "Your type, you know, dearest, 
 is — is not conventionally religious. 
 You are most beautiful, but " 
 
 " I would do very well, I suppose, 
 for the Woman taken in Adultery ! " 
 
 " I have never seen you like this 
 before." 
 
 " Perhaps not. Thank God, I 
 don't sit witli my mouth screwed in 
 one perpetual simper, looking re- 
 ligious, and wondering whether my 
 new gowns will fit ! I want you to 
 understand that I have got a soul ! 
 and a mind I and individuality ! " 
 
 He sighed and returned to his 
 playing ; but there was no spirit in 
 his performance. 
 
 " You are not to tell Margaret of 
 our marriage," said Sophia, sud- 
 denly ; " when I get ready, I will 
 tell her myself." 
 
 He flushed again, and this time 
 more decidedly. Unfortunately, he 
 had informed her ladyship of his 
 happy condition that very after- 
 noon — in a burst of friendly confi- 
 dence — after she had promised to
 
 lOO A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 sit for the Madonna. Could the 
 circumstances be more awkward ? 
 
 " Do you think she suspects ? " 
 said Sophia. But women have a 
 fatal genius for answering their own 
 questions. Before her husband could 
 reply she went on, " I do not see 
 how she can ; I have always been 
 very careful." 
 
 "Sophia," he began, intending 
 to make a clean breast of the 
 matter, " the fact is " 
 
 She stamped her foot — a beauti- 
 ful foot, too, another artistic joy. 
 " I loathe facts ; I will have my 
 own way about it. You promised 
 me that I could keep it a secret as 
 long as I wished." 
 
 " I know that," he replied, " but 
 you said this morning " 
 
 " I am always being told what I 
 said this morning ! Never mind 
 what I said six hours ago : it is the 
 afternoon now. I suppose I may 
 change my mind." 
 
 " But," he said, " I am heartily 
 sick of all this absurd mystery. 
 I — I am rather proud. I cannot 
 explain it, but it affects your 
 honour. These reports you find 
 so amusing are gross insults. I
 
 i 
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. lOI 
 
 was mad to make such a fool's 
 promise." 
 
 " No," said Sophia, " you were 
 not mad, you were in love with me, 
 that's all. You would have pro- 
 mised anything ! " It was most 
 indiscreet to remind him of this 
 mournful truth. Wrath received it 
 Avith sublime (if highly coloured) 
 indignation. 
 
 " I was never m love with you," 
 he replied, angrily. " I detest the 
 phrase. Wife to me is a sacred 
 name. . . . But few women under- 
 stand a man's best feelings, and 
 least of all on the subject of love. 
 They do not realise that even the 
 vilest of us would rather think that 
 the woman he loves is a bit of 
 divinity. . . . But it is very seldom 
 that she will let him think so— very 
 seldom. . . . Are we quarrelling ? " 
 he said, abruptly ; " once I thought 
 we could never quarrel. This is 
 terrible ! " 
 
 "This," she said, " is marriage ! " 
 
 "You speak as though you re- 
 gretted " 
 
 " You recognise regret as though 
 you were long acquainted with it ! " 
 A woman always handles sarcasm
 
 I02 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 with the point towards her own 
 breast. Sophia turned pale at her 
 own words. 
 
 "You do regret," she said. 
 
 " I regret anything that makes 
 you unhappy." 
 
 " This is equivocation : you never 
 did speak out and you never will. 
 A man so guarded in his words 
 must have very treacherous thoughts. 
 Why do you look at me like that?" 
 she said, passionately. " I repeat, you 
 are ver}^ difficult to understand. I 
 have been with you ever since I was 
 born, and I have always done all 
 the talking ! " He did not attempt 
 to deny this, but still kept his eyes 
 on her with the patient, touching, 
 and Avistful expression of the collie 
 dog in " The Shepherd's Chief 
 Mourner." 
 
 " One has to take you on trust or 
 not at all," continued his wife ; " the 
 most exasperating man God ever 
 made ! It is a most unfortunate 
 thing that we ever met : you are 
 naturally secretive, and I am natu- 
 rally suspicious. Why did you not 
 let them take me to the workhouse ? 
 And why did you make love to me? 
 You know you did : I cannot re-
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. I03 
 
 member one single word you ever 
 said, but you have got an artful 
 way of implying everything under 
 the sun without uttering a syllable ! 
 You never even asked me to marry 
 you : all I know is, that I am married 
 and I wish I wasn't." And she 
 wept. Sophia never exhausted her- 
 self by restraining her emotions ; 
 tears now sprang to her eyes and 
 rolled down her cheeks so softly 
 and sweetly, that to see her one 
 would have thought that weeping 
 were as easy as breathing. It was a / 
 pretty study in highly cultivated "' 
 sorrow. 
 
 " My dearest," said Wrath, " you 
 are not well. But this is all my 
 fault : I have been a beast. How 
 can you like such a great, clumsy, 
 ill-natured brute ? It is a very 
 flimsy excuse, but I think I worked 
 too long this morning. Margaret 
 was reading aloud and I did not 
 like to " 
 
 " What was she reading ? " said 
 Sophia. 
 
 " Some new novel : I forget the 
 title, but," he added, "the cover 
 was green ! " 
 
 " What was it about ? "
 
 I04 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 He grabbed at the opportunity 
 to amuse her, and detailed the plot 
 with elaborate care — drawing how- 
 ever rather from his imagination 
 than his memory. The result was 
 an adaptation of " Red Cotton Night- 
 cap Country," " Wilhelm Meister," 
 and "Gil Bias." He might have 
 made some fame as a novelist. 
 
 When he had finished, Sophia 
 coughed. "How well you remember 
 it," she said ; "you must have Hstened 
 very attentively ! " 
 
 Then, remarking that she felt 
 better, she left him. He heard her 
 singing " I know that my Redeemer 
 liveth " as she went up the stairs, 
 and rejoiced that he had cured her 
 headache, and could resume his 
 fugue. -^ 
 
 So little do men know their wives.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 IN WHICH A LADY LOOKS GRATEFUL. 
 
 )RATH had been playing 
 in ineflFable contentment 
 for some thirty minutes, 
 when the door was opened 
 softly and Lady Hyde- 
 Bassett walked in. Her 
 gait was peculiar — not goddess-like, 
 defiant, and untrammelled in the 
 manner of Sophia, but agreeably 
 suggestive of moneyed leisure, a 
 certain feminine timidity, and cling- 
 ing draperies. She was already 
 dressed for dinner, and was looking 
 her best in violet silk and amethysts. 
 Here it may be a fitting opportunity 
 to mention that she was ever attired 
 in beautiful garments : " How can 
 I make myself a fright," she told 
 Eliza Bellarmine, " when I know 
 X05
 
 Io6 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 that my dearest is watching me 
 from heaven ? It would make him 
 so unhappy to see me growing 
 dowdy ! " Which, EUza thought, 
 would have been impious had it not 
 been American. 
 
 Margaret and Wrath had known 
 each other for many years. She had 
 often given him motherly advice in 
 his attempt to bring up Sophia 
 (who was her junior by some ten 
 Ijirthdays), and their friendship, 
 which had been somewhat solemn 
 during Sir Benjamin's lifetime, was 
 now stepping the enchanting mea- 
 sures of an intellectual jig. It may 
 be that if Lady Hyde-Bassett had 
 not vowed perpetual widowhood, 
 and if Miss Jenyns had not suddenly 
 grown from a tiresome schoolgirl 
 into a maddening but all-compelling 
 woman but why dwell on might- 
 have-beens ? Wrath, however, had 
 very nearly loved her once, and 
 as he was not a man who cast his 
 affection on what was unlovely, 
 where he bestowed it, there it re- 
 mained. He was quite conscious 
 that he had a kind regard for Mar- 
 garet, but the difference between 
 that kind regard and his overmas-
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 107 
 
 tering, limitless devotion to his wife 
 was so immeasurable that it never 
 even occurred to him to compare 
 them. One woman occupied his life, 
 and the other an occasional thought, 
 and even that thought would be, as 
 it were, a ripple on a whole ocean 
 of Sophia. 
 
 " It ii) wicked to interrupt you," 
 said her ladyship, as she entered, 
 " but I must steal a moment just to 
 tell you about my new genius — 
 young Mauden." 
 
 " A new genius ? " he said, lifting 
 his eyebrows. 
 
 " I am not overrating him, I 
 assure you. Once you had more 
 confidence in my judgment ! " 
 
 " Naturally," said Wrath. " That 
 was when /was your new genius." 
 " Ah, why refer to my past 
 follies ? " said Margaret, which was 
 certainly an adroit way of suggesting 
 them. She was a coquette before 
 she was a widow. 
 
 " I own," he said, " it is not plea- 
 sant to be reminded of one's mis- 
 takes." 
 
 " I never mistook jvow," she mur- 
 mured : " I was only mistaken in 
 myself."
 
 Io8 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 " I can remember," he began — " I 
 can remember " 
 
 " Do not remind me," said Mar- 
 garet. She was wondering how she 
 could ever have allowed herself to 
 even vaguely contemplate the im- 
 possible possibility of marrying 
 again. It was her only consolation 
 to think, that for at least six months 
 after Sir Benjamin's death she had 
 not been in her perfect mind : chaos 
 was come and the reign of irresponsi- 
 bility. " It wanted a Shakespeare," 
 she thought, " to make the Lady 
 Ann accept Richard III. over her 
 husband's coffin : it must have been 
 then or never ! " 
 
 " Do not remind me," she said 
 again. 
 
 "Is it only men who should have 
 the burden of remembering ? " said 
 Wrath, surprised at his unusual 
 power of repartee, and deciding that 
 it was inspired by the twilight. 
 
 " I remember too well too many 
 errors," she sighed. 
 
 *' Ah ! " said he, " women only 
 confess the sins they have left tm- 
 done ! " 
 
 " It was a man who prayed for a 
 talent of forgetting ! "
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 109 
 
 " He prayed in vain," said Wrath, 
 now thoroughly exhausted and 
 wishing to Goodness that Sophia 
 would come in and " do the talking." 
 Half-unconsciously he turned an 
 ivory button in the wall, and lo ! 
 the room was illuminated by the 
 discerning beams of the electric 
 light. 
 
 " What a useful invention ! " he 
 exclaimed. 
 
 " Most useful ! " said her ladyship, 
 no less heartily. 
 
 " Bye the bye," he said, " Sophia 
 has retracted her promise that I 
 might announce our marriage. She 
 is sublime ! As she is suffering 
 from neuralgia," he went on, " I 
 did not tell her " 
 
 " I will be as silent as the grave," 
 said Margaret, divining his whole 
 difficulty at a guess. 
 
 He could only gaze his gratitude, 
 admiration, and wonder. " I never 
 tease her when she is studying a 
 new part," he explained ; " she is 
 much too sensitive to be able to do 
 good work under the stress of an- 
 noyance. And to a woman of her 
 nervous temperament a small fret is 
 more distressing than a serious
 
 IIO A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 calamity : her patience is too 
 mighty for trivialities. Paper boats 
 cannot sail in the north wind 1 " 
 He smiled, and was evidently fully 
 alive to what the world called the 
 ciissedness of the divine Sophia : 
 only he did not call it cussedness ; it 
 was to him the last magnificent 
 touch to her colossal spirit. 
 
 " But when do you try her 
 patience ? " said Lady Hyde-Bas- 
 sett. " If every woman of genius had 
 such a husband ! Ido not wonder that 
 she worships the ground you walk 
 on : that is a secret which she cannot 
 keep. Oh, Avhen a man is unselfish, 
 no woman — not even the best — can 
 compare with him. Splendid ! 
 splendid ! I have only known one 
 man like you, and that was Sir 
 Benjamin." The sudden remem- 
 brance of her own desolation was so 
 afflicting that her eyes filled with 
 tears. 
 
 " Do not mention us in the same 
 breath," said Wrath; "you know 
 what I think about him." 
 
 It had been his appreciation for 
 Sir Benjamin which had assailed 
 her heart so perilously in what we 
 may call the If period. " It is such
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. Ill 
 
 a comfort to me," she said, " to 
 know that at least one of my hus- 
 band's friends had some conception 
 of the man apart from his attain- 
 ments. I must have loved him, if 
 he had only been a sausage-seller ! " 
 It was, no doubt, very touching, 
 and perhaps an occasion when her 
 ladyship could throw an affectionate 
 glance at her guest with perfect 
 propriety. 
 
 But Sophia, who happened to 
 come into the room at that moment, 
 and who had not heard the p.'-e- 
 ceding remark, did not understand 
 it. 
 
 " Oh," she said, lightly, " I am 
 looking for young Mauden. Such 
 an intelligent boy ! I promised to 
 show him the conservatory." 
 
 Without looking at Wrath — or at 
 least, without appearing to look, for 
 we may be quite sure that she had 
 nicely observed every line of his 
 countenance — she wheeled round 
 and went out. 
 
 " How lovel}'^ she looks in that 
 yellow crepe ! " said Margaret, not 
 enviously, yet with a sigh. " It is 
 nice to be young ! " 
 
 Wrath felt that it would ill be-
 
 112 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 come him to be unreservedly en- 
 thusiastic on the subject, seeing his 
 close relation to the lady. But he 
 walked to the door and watched the 
 incomparable creature sail down the 
 corridor. 
 
 As he went upstairs to dress for 
 dinner, he wondered what he had 
 done to deserve the love of such a 
 woman, and, lest any cynical reader 
 should assume that so excellent and 
 kind-hearted a man was thanking 
 Heaven for a blessing which he did 
 not possess, let us hasten to add that 
 Sophia was no less often astonished, 
 on her part, that she was blessed 
 with such a husband. For, to do 
 her justice, she knew his strength 
 and her own weakness : if he in- 
 dulged her beyond reason, the fact 
 was due to his magnanimity and 
 not her superior will. He might 
 have crushed her but did not. 
 Hence, his charm. 
 
 But on that particular afternoon 
 Sophia's heart was usurped by feel- 
 ings very unlike gratitude : vague 
 anger, clear discontent, and mother- 
 less desperation — the three witches 
 of a woman's soul — were doing their 
 best to work mischief. To be sus-
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. II 3 
 
 picious of Margaret was unfriendly ; 
 to distrust Wrath was something 
 not very far removed from base — so 
 kind a husband, so devoted a lover, 
 so upright a man — yet she could 
 not forego the luxury of a grievance. 
 Besides, in spite of all argument, 
 common sense, and justice, she really 
 was jealous. 
 
 Why should her husband paint 
 Margaret Hyde-Bassett as the Ma- 
 donna, and why should Margaret 
 Hyde-Bassett roll her eyes at Wrath ? 
 
 8
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 SHOWING HOW SOME VERY NECES- 
 SARY INFORMATION MAY SEEM 
 LIKE A DIGRESSION. 
 
 T is an obvious truism that 
 love in all human rela- 
 tions is, in the very 
 nature of things, selfish ; 
 those who love unselfishly 
 only do so by living in 
 a state of constant warfare with 
 their meaner instincts. The natural 
 desire is to absorb every thought 
 and moment of the loved being ; to 
 begrudge every interest, and dislike 
 all things and anything which 
 would seem to distract the You from 
 incessant dependence on the Me. 
 This is the undisciplined, raw 
 desire : many conquer it — Wrath, 
 for instance ; more, like Sophia, do 
 not. 
 
 Yet she was not an exacting 
 
 »X4
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. I15 
 
 woman — the self-repression was by 
 no means all on his side : she 
 suffered her husband's interest in 
 his pictures with silent heroism ; 
 she often remained away from his 
 studio lest she should interrupt his 
 work ; she concealed many of her 
 professional worries for fear of 
 causing him needless anxiety — for a 
 creature so wayward and naturally 
 heedless of others, her thoughtful- 
 ness where he was concerned was 
 even pathetic. But it is only one 
 more paradox from that nest of 
 paradoxes — the human heart — that 
 only love is strong enough to sub- 
 due love, and affection had worked 
 its great miracle in Sophia's wilful 
 nature. When Wrath was in ques- 
 tion she was capable of any sacri- 
 fice, could have made herself as 
 though she was not, would have 
 renounced all things and followed 
 him gladly — did he wish it — into 
 obscurity and the suburbs. It was 
 because she honestly believed that 
 his social position would suffer if 
 their marriage were made known, 
 that she pretended to hold such 
 eccentric and unfeminine views on 
 the subject of a fair name. How 
 
 y
 
 Ii6 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 the poor creature winced and ached 
 under the looks and whisperings 
 she daily noted and overheard, it 
 would be impossible to say. A 
 woman who is really living an 
 immoral life always feels, like a 
 condemned criminal, that the ver- 
 dict is, if hard to bear, certainly 
 just. But to Sophia, conscious of 
 her innocence and only too proud 
 to be the wife of the man she loved 
 and honoured above all others, the 
 mud pellets aimed at her reputa- 
 tion, stuck like knives in her heart. 
 That she was suffering for an 
 absurd reason has nothing to do 
 with it : death in grotesque cir- 
 cumstances is none the less death, 
 and the martyr to a fool's cause is 
 still a martyr. As we have said 
 before, it is the heart that makes 
 the occasion. 
 
 It had transpired, after Wrath was 
 elected a Royal Academician, that 
 his family was most distinguished : 
 his uncle the Cabinet Minister, his 
 cousins the Wrath-Havilands of 
 Wrath, his mother's aunt, the 
 Marchioness of Welby, and his 
 connections, the Granville-Coxes of 
 Somerset, to say nothing of his
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. II 7 
 
 Step-brother, General Gorm-Gorm, 
 and his step-sister-in-law, Lady 
 Gertrude Gorm-Gorm, &c., &c. 
 To Wrath himself the whole thing 
 was too ludicrous to be contemp- 
 tible, but Sophia — poor Sophia — 
 was undeniably impressed. The 
 early teaching of a certain excellent 
 governess, whose papa was a retired 
 colonel, had done its work, and the 
 gods of Sophia's childhood, (be- 
 ginning with a Duke and ending 
 with a Chancery Barrister), re- 
 mained her gods, although she had 
 seen their altars destroyed, and them- 
 selves profanely called humanity. 
 She would not have it said, that 
 Wrath had married beneath him ; 
 she could not see the Duchesses who 
 now flattered him, presently shoot- 
 ing cold glances because he had 
 married an actress. Possibly Sophia 
 did not reason without syllogisms, 
 although the word itself would have 
 caused her considerable alarm. 
 
 Her fight for success, (and she did 
 not wake up one morning to find 
 herself famous — she had served her 
 dreary apprenticeship with the rest), 
 had been waged more in the hope 
 of making herself, at least in some
 
 Il8 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 small degree, his intellectual equal, 
 than because she had great ideas 
 about Art, or a longing for public 
 applause. She loved her profession, 
 of course, and would have been an 
 accomplished actress had she never 
 known Wrath — for talent does not 
 rest on the accident of forming a 
 certain friendship or meeting such 
 and such a person, but he was her 
 audience, the historic one in a vast 
 multitude, whom every artist singles 
 out as the critic of all others to 
 please. If Wrath approved of her 
 performance all was well ; but if he 
 found fault, not all the praises of the 
 world could have given her the en- 
 couragement she needed. Perhaps 
 this was not as it should be from an 
 aesthetic point of view, but Sophia's 
 art was not the result of cultivation 
 but instinctive : she was, in fact, most 
 artistic when she was least scholarly. 
 The poet Gray once wrote of a 
 tragedy that Aristotle's best rules 
 were observed in it, in a manner 
 which showed the author had never 
 heard of Aristotle. Miss Jenyns's 
 acting had the same unpremeditated 
 excellence. The polite world, how- 
 ever, was doing its best to make her
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. II9 
 
 think that her readings were the 
 result of laborious thought, that 
 she spent hours over the nice lifting 
 of an eyelid and devoted months 
 to the right inflexion of a syllable, 
 but Wrath, with his usual bluntness, 
 having declared that " all such 
 twaddle made him sick," she dared 
 not assume prodigious airs in his 
 presence. But she found it humili- 
 ating to reflect that she had so very 
 little to do with her own ability — 
 that she was, after all, a sort of 
 puppet controlled by an invisible 
 power, who made her do wonderful 
 things when she thought she was 
 simply acting on a chance idea. 
 
 Now young Mauden, fresh from 
 Oxford, with much learning and no 
 wisdom, with Plato in his brain, the 
 Odyssey next his heart, and Aristo- 
 phanes in his portmanteau — Mau- 
 den, who could find the whole of 
 Aristotle in a pause, was exactly the 
 sort of clever youth to persuade a 
 fresh woman into a dull pedant. 
 Already, after one conversation with 
 De Boys on the Irony of Shake- 
 speare contrasted with the Irony 
 of Sophocles, a brief discussion on 
 the respective characters of Lear
 
 I20 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 and CEdipus, with hints at Dumas, 
 so local but so witty, and Augier, 
 whose humour deserted him in a 
 big situation, Sophia was beginning 
 to feel, that Wrath as a dramatic 
 critic lacked culture : he talked too 
 much about work and common 
 sense, and not enough about the 
 True, the Universal, and Objectivity. 
 Yet he, too, was an Oxford man, 
 and well read : so differently do 
 men apply their knowledge. 
 
 And here let us judge kindly of 
 Sophia ; she had been much spoiled, 
 she was young, beautiful, and had 
 great talents. For even less cause 
 many poor mortals have been led 
 into vainglory, and have suffered 
 much vexation of spirit. She had 
 not yet that great gift of self- 
 knowledge which, though a painful 
 blessing, is still our greatest and 
 the one to be prayed for beyond 
 all others ; for the man who knows 
 himself in all his great imperfections 
 and small virtues, suffers more under 
 praise than he ever could under 
 censure — which, at worst, can only 
 remind him of what his too-willing 
 conscience has forgotten. 
 
 We have said that when Sophia
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 121 
 
 left the music-room she was, in 
 spite of all reason and duty, jealous ; 
 it followed therefore that her vanity 
 was all the more sensitive. The 
 long glance of reverential but in- 
 tense admiration which fell from 
 the fine eyes of Mr. De Boys 
 Mauden, when she met him in the 
 conservatory, warmed her chilled 
 soul. She smiled divinely, blushed 
 celestially, and murmured, for no 
 earthly reason, " I am late ! " 
 
 De Boys, reconsidering the meet- 
 ing afterwards, wondered how he 
 found strength to resist the impulse 
 to cry out "Jane!" and kiss her. 
 Her likeness to Jane — Jane, whom 
 he passionately worshipped, and 
 whom, in all devotion, he hoped to 
 make his adoring wife — was too 
 bewildering. 
 
 It is just possible that Odysseus 
 would have gone to greater lengths 
 than the faithful Penelope, on the 
 reasonable argument of a strong 
 resemblance.
 
 CHAPTER Vm. 
 
 SHOWING HOW TRAGEDY IS NOT 
 ALWAYS IN FIVE ACTS. 
 
 ^ISS ELIZA BELLAR- 
 MINE, all this time, was 
 sitting in front of the 
 looking-glass in her bed- 
 room, wondering whether 
 _ her eyes showed the 
 
 effects of weeping. She wept so 
 seldom that when she did, her face 
 for some time afterwards Avould be 
 irresistibly suggestive of the beach 
 after a storm. 
 
 " It is hard," she said, staring at 
 herself, " that one woman should 
 have so much, and another, nothing. 
 Who could blame Wrath ? " 
 
 From which the intelligent reader 
 will at once gather, that the learned 
 and austere Miss Bellarmine had 
 bestowed her heart on one who 
 had never sought it : on one whom 
 
 122
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 1 23 
 
 she had just learnt was the hus- 
 band — and the devoted husband — of 
 another woman. So strange is the 
 feminine mind, that while she had 
 quailed under the gossip Avhich 
 associated Wrath and Sophia in a 
 more than charitable alliance, her 
 position did not seem quite desper- 
 ate. He would arise one day, assert 
 his higher self, and cast about him 
 for chaste society, coupled with 
 moderate charms. But now — O 
 heavy fate ! — this could not be : he 
 had married the daughter of Heth. 
 Eliza had not the temperament 
 of those who consume with idleness 
 and call it hopeless passion ; her 
 love was wholesome and honest, 
 and worked for good, not evil. She 
 was only too well aware that she 
 had no smallest claim on Wrath's 
 consideration : he had given her no 
 encouragement — indeed, it would 
 have been hard to find a man who 
 had less of the drawing-room gallant 
 in his manner with any woman. 
 So marked was his deficiency in the 
 elegant art of disrespectful atten- 
 tions that many fashionable ladies 
 declared they could not endure the 
 rude monster, and were he not
 
 124 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 supposed to be wonderfully clever, 
 (although they could see nothing in 
 his pictures), they would never 
 even notice the wretch. Eliza, 
 therefore, like many of us in un- 
 happy circumstances, had only her 
 own foolishness to blame, and that 
 she knew this was not the least 
 bitter of her several pangs. But 
 already she had put Wrath out of 
 her heart for all time. 
 
 " Never, never, never, never ! " 
 This was her solemn incantation, 
 and lo ! even as she spoke the onl}' 
 romance of her dull life shivered, 
 sobbed, and vanished. She could 
 have cut off her hand with the 
 same unhesitating precision had 
 it seemed necessary. But such 
 triumphs, whether over the will or 
 the body, are not cheaply won : 
 decisive moments are not realised 
 by time, and what is done in sixty 
 ticks of the clock the soul must 
 remember or regret for eternity. 
 
 Eliza, having mastered a great 
 situation in her life, was only 
 conscious that she felt much older 
 and very tired. She bathed her 
 eyes, ordered herself some tea, and 
 sat down to read Arckenholz on
 
 A STUDV IN TEMPTATIONS. li$ 
 
 Christina of Sweden — four porten- 
 tous volumes which she had chosen 
 from Sir Benjamin's hbrary as 
 Hght, yet useful reading. And 
 although it might have been more 
 dramatic if she had indulged instead 
 on a long soliloquy on the hollow- 
 ness of life, the injustice of God, 
 and so on, there are those who 
 might think it was more heroic to 
 blow her despised nose and study a 
 tedious historian. 
 
 Half an hour later when Eliza 
 entered the drawing-room she dis- 
 covered Wrath and Lady Hyde- 
 Bassett playing chess, and Sophia, 
 (who hated games of every descrip- 
 tion), engaged in a most animated 
 conversation with De Boys Mauden. 
 No one seemed to notice her en- 
 trance except Margaret, who gave 
 her a swift smile and indicated with 
 her eyes a new book on the side- 
 table, as much as to say, " That will 
 interest you more than either of 
 these men." Eliza sighed, but drifted 
 towards the volume. Literature 
 was still her friend. 
 
 " How I should like to paint her 
 as St. Martha," said Wrath, in a
 
 126 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 low voice to Lady Hyde-Bassett ; 
 "she has just that expression of 
 kind, yet terrible energy St. Martha 
 must have had ! " 
 
 *' How a love affair would im- 
 prove her ! " said Margaret ; " every 
 woman should have at least one 
 love affair." 
 
 " But she is a nice creature," 
 said Wrath. " I am very fond of 
 her. She is a good but inaccessible 
 angel." 
 
 " I am going to marry her to 
 Claverhouse Digges," said her lady- 
 ship, confidently, "I shall arrange 
 it all next autumn ! " 
 
 Artistic chess is a game beyond 
 the petty restrictions of science.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 WHICH INTRODUCES A DOWAGER AND 
 A PEER, 
 
 ^BtafHE Dowager Countess of 
 Warbeck awoke one 
 morning at eight o'clock 
 and discovered that she 
 could not fall asleep again. 
 _ She rang for her maid, 
 
 complained that she had passed an 
 extremely bad night (for she usually 
 slept till nine), and arose from her 
 bed. 
 
 " Will your ladyship have break- 
 fast earlier than usual ? " said the 
 maid. 
 
 " No," said her ladyship, who did 
 not feel hungry ; " but tell Dawson 
 to sound the gong for prayers at 
 half- past eight." She therefore put 
 her bad night to excellent account 
 by reading her assembled house- 
 hold three lessons instead of one. 
 
 137
 
 128 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 Would that all good Christians 
 killed their time with so much 
 profit — to others ! 
 
 When the domestics had solemnly 
 filed out of the big dining-room, 
 the Dowager turned to her grand- 
 son — the one prop of her declining 
 years — with an air of almost tragic 
 appeal. 
 
 " I suppose," she said, " I must 
 go to Brentmore and see this 
 Battle — or Cattle — person ? " 
 
 " It would look more friendly, if 
 you did," said her grandson, " but I 
 have no wish to urge anything of 
 the kind upon you, if you feel un- 
 equal to it." 
 
 " I never allow myself to feel un- 
 equal to a duty, Warbeck. But the 
 position is heart-breaking." 
 
 The position which her ladyship 
 found so distressing was briefly 
 this : she had been the second 
 wife of the 14th Earl, by whom 
 she had one son, the father of the 
 present Warbeck. The late Earl, 
 however, had had four other sons 
 by his previous marriage, the 
 youngest of whom (Edmund), he 
 had disowned for marrying a yeo- 
 man's daughter. Not to detain the
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 1 29 
 
 reader with tedious particulars it 
 will be sufficient to say that Destiny 
 had played many sad and unlooked- 
 for tricks with the three elder sons 
 and their children, and now, with 
 the not uncommon irony of human 
 affairs, Jane Shannon, the daughter 
 of the cast-off Edmund, was heiress 
 to the great estate. The Dowager's 
 grandson had the peerage, but the 
 cream of the property — the famous 
 " Drawne acres " of that Anne 
 whom we mentioned in the first 
 chapter — had fallen to Jane. No 
 wonder the Countess could not 
 sleep for bitterness of spirit, and 
 no wonder Warbeck was leaving 
 England that very morning for the 
 Continent. 
 
 " After all these tlioiisaiids of 
 years, to see a Warbeck reduced to 
 poverty ! " groaned the Dowager — 
 " I repeat, poverty ! Heversham 
 Place is the sort of residence for 
 a superior cottage hospital, and 
 Graylands is only fit to let to some 
 American, or to a Colonial. Yozc can- 
 not possibly live there. No Earl of 
 Warbeck has had his foot inside it 
 since 1550. Drawne estates, indeed ! 
 Who would have heard of them if 
 9
 
 130 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 Anne Drawne had not married a 
 Shannon ? Who fought for them, 
 bled for them, died for them ? No 
 Drawnes, but the Earls of Warbeck. 
 And now this Cattle person is to 
 have them all — and Grosvenor 
 Square, too ! " This was her mag- 
 nificent manner of referring to the 
 town mansion, as though only one 
 house in London could justly claim 
 that address. " Grosvenor Square, 
 too," she repeated ; " and you with 
 no roof over your head. Fiftee7i 
 thousand a year. What is that ? 
 Far more than you need ? It is not 
 a question of need^ it is a ques- 
 tion of what you require — what is 
 decent. And as for calling this Cattle 
 
 person. Lady Jane " Words 
 
 failed her. 
 
 Her grandson smiled patiently : 
 he knew this harangue by heart. 
 But he never permitted himself — 
 even in solitude — to fall below the 
 Stoic ideal. He wore a hair-shirt 
 under his fine linen, and took his 
 rule of life from Sir Thomas More, 
 but, unlike that saint, he suffered 
 religious doubts. It was said that 
 if he had written something touch- 
 ing against Christianity, or some-
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 13I 
 
 thing pretty about Moll Flanders, 
 he would have been a Superior 
 Person. But Superior Persons do 
 not wear hair-shirts. There are 
 good men who yet bear on their 
 countenance the scars of many 
 battles lost and won ; their know- 
 ledge of good is ever shadowed by 
 their knowledge of evil ; they are 
 all things to all men that they may 
 by all means save some. But 
 Warbeck was not of these. Sir 
 Launcelot may have died an holy 
 man, but Sir Galahad lived hoHly 
 also. It was the latter knight who 
 had most fired the young peer's 
 imagination. His was so self-con- 
 scious virtue, however ; at times he 
 even affected airs of worldly cynicism 
 which reminded his grandmother of 
 the Miltonic Archangel who tried 
 to explain heavenly mysteries in 
 earthly language — and blushed red 
 in the attempt. He was, too, a 
 powerful fellow — no weakling, who 
 made a virtue of debility, but a man. 
 " What a fish for the Church 1 " 
 said a bishop, who had his eye upon 
 him. 
 
 Warbeck had all that longing of 
 a strong nature to help some one —
 
 132 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 to feel that he was of some use in 
 the world ; and he would have 
 undergone any suffering or hardship 
 if he had once persuaded himself 
 that his pain would promote 
 another's peace. But to suffer to 
 no purpose ; to study for hours 
 with no other desire than the accu- 
 mulation of barren knowledge ; to 
 pour weak advice into unwilling 
 ears ; to offer dumb praise to a 
 deaf God ; to spend his time, as a 
 witty philosopher has said, milking 
 a he-goat into a sieve — these were 
 things he could not do. He knew 
 that he was considered promising 
 by those friends whose judgment he 
 could not choose but value, and 
 his University career had more than 
 fulfilled their expectations. Yet the 
 self-distrust was there — a haunting 
 thought lest, in the end, he would 
 not only disappoint those who were 
 dear to him on earth, but that 
 possible God who had a way of 
 asserting His authority in the form 
 of a still, small conscience. Youth 
 is naturally impatient, and is not 
 content to remain blind for even 
 three days like St. Paul, nor can 
 young enthusiasm believe readily
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 1 33 
 
 that those also serve who only stand 
 and wait. The impulse is to rush 
 into the fray, to kill or be killed, 
 but both or either without loss of 
 time or hindrance. Vanity, too, 
 and ambition, no less than a zeal of 
 serving the Almighty and humanity, 
 may have something to do with the 
 fierceness of this desire, so easy is it 
 to flatter the soul that the glorifica- 
 tion of self is all to the glory of 
 God. These and similar thoughts, 
 while they restrained Warbeck from 
 any active participation in public 
 affairs, were silently working for 
 good, strengthening his judgment, 
 and giving him some insight into 
 his own heart and human perplexi- 
 ties. He would know his work in 
 due season ; but the time was not 
 yet come. Already he had heard 
 the whispers of a calling, though 
 the voice was dim and far off, not 
 yet to be perfectly known. So he 
 tried to be patient. 
 
 When the Countess of Warbeck's 
 carriage drove up to " Up-at- 
 Battle's" that same afternoon, 
 (Brentmore is about three hours' 
 railway journey from London),
 
 134 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 Miss Caroline was what she called 
 tnrfu'ng out the. sitting-room. Both 
 she and her niece had dusters pinned 
 round their heads, and wore big 
 aprons. Although the preceding 
 night had brought a lawyer's letter 
 telling Jane of her extraordinary 
 change of fortune, she had not 
 realised its full meaning — nor, in- 
 deed, had Miss Caroline. They 
 were both simple-minded beings, 
 and had been brought up to think 
 that their daily tasks must be per- 
 formed, even though the heavens 
 were falling. It was the day for 
 the parlour, and though Jane had 
 inherited all England, the room had 
 to be swept and garnished by some 
 one, and as Jane was on the spot, 
 she was, of course, the some one to 
 do it. 
 
 Jane opened the door herself, and 
 found the footman standing — almost 
 gingerly, as though he were treading 
 on very doubtful substance — on the 
 front step. 
 
 " Is Miss Battle at home ? " said 
 he, saying Battle with difficulty, for 
 his tongue did not take kindly to 
 trashy syllables. (The Dowager 
 had made up her mind that she
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 1 35 
 
 would first ask to see the aunt, and 
 thus avoid the unspeakable Lady 
 Jane Shannon. "Fiddle-de-dee on 
 courtesy ! " she had told her grand- 
 son.) 
 
 The footman assisted his aged 
 mistress out of the carriage with 
 respectful sympathy. 
 
 " Have I the pleasure of address- 
 ing ? " began Lady Warbeck, 
 
 feeling for the first time in her life, 
 and very much against her will, that 
 it is not the apron Avhich makes the 
 servant. 
 
 "I am Jane," said the girl ; "will 
 you come into the kitchen, for the 
 sitting-room is full of dust ? " 
 
 The Countess, in spite of her 
 eccentricities, was a well - bred 
 woman — one who had travelled 
 much, observed much, and read 
 much. She was, too, so absolutely 
 sure of her own excellent social 
 position that she suffered none of 
 those fears so common to mushroom 
 nobility, lest she might not be taken 
 for the exalted being she was. She 
 could, if necessary, adapt herself to 
 any scene or any society ; she did 
 not look less a countess because 
 she sat in a kitchen. Good breed-
 
 136 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 ing does not require a background. 
 She always held, however, that 
 nervousness in her august presence 
 showed very proper feeling, so she 
 looked at Jane very hard for seem- 
 ing so unembarrassed. Jane met 
 her look modestly, and with the 
 respect which instinct taught her 
 was due to one who was so many 
 years her senior, but with no more 
 fear than if her great relative had 
 been — as her ladyship wrote to 
 War beck — "a tabby cat on a 
 wall." 
 
 Miss Caroline appeared from the 
 scullery, where she had been wash- 
 ing her hands, and greeted her 
 visitor with much old-fashioned 
 grace, but, it must be owned, little 
 style. That is to say, she neither 
 tittered nor stared, nor assumed an 
 unnatural voice, but spoke and 
 acted exactly as she always did when 
 there was no one in sight and hear- 
 ing save Battle and Jane. 
 
 " I suppose," said Lady Warbeck, 
 when she had learnt that they were 
 both quite well and did not find the 
 weather trying — " I suppose you 
 are making your preparations to 
 come up to town. But Grosvenor
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. I37 
 
 Square is a little sombre just at 
 present." 
 
 " It must be dreadful," said Jane, 
 with much sympathy, " so soon 
 after a death." 
 
 " Shocking ! " said her ladyship — 
 " Shocking ! It has been a matter 
 of national regret ; the Queen sent 
 me three telegrams." 
 
 Their thoughts were disjointed 
 and confused ; these three wonder- 
 ing women — one young, two simple, 
 and one neither young nor simple 
 — had all kind hearts, although 
 education, experience, and rank 
 had set very different seals on 
 each. 
 
 Miss Caroline looked at the 
 Countess, and saw more than an 
 elderly lady in a bonnet and mantle. 
 
 " Poor thing ! " she said, and her 
 honest eyes filled with tears. 
 
 Lady Warbeck did not know how 
 to explain that by no possible effort 
 of her imagination could she think 
 of herself as a Thing. So she pre- 
 tended not to hear. 
 
 " I cannot yet trust myself to 
 speak of these painful events," she 
 went on. " I hope I am resigned. 
 'Man that is born of woman '
 
 138 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 It is not for us to question the in- 
 scrutable decrees of Providence." 
 Then she turned to Jane. "It 
 would give me much pleasure if you 
 would spend a week or so with me, 
 and I think, in the peculiar circum- 
 stances, it would be the most proper 
 course to pursue." 
 
 "I think so too," said Miss 
 Caroline. "I have been worrying 
 ever since last night — when we 
 heard — because I knew no one who 
 could really advise her and tell her 
 just what to do. Girls are so 
 thoughtless." 
 
 " So much depends on one's 
 bringing-up," murmured her lady- 
 ship. " I daresay you are looking 
 forward with immense delight to 
 your future life, and your first 
 season, and your new frocks, and so 
 on ! " (The Dowager was most 
 serious when she seemed flippant.) 
 Jane had all a girl's love for 
 beautiful clothes, and already she 
 had certainly dreamt of a heavenly 
 gown, soft-hued, with straight back 
 seams and a train. She had also 
 designed a black silk dolman for 
 her Aunt Caroline. She therefore 
 blushed a little at Lady Warbeck's
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 139 
 
 question, and owned that she had 
 thought of ordering a new dress. 
 
 " Can you return with me to- 
 morrow?" said Lady Warbeck, ven- 
 turing a smile ; " there are a great 
 many tiresome legal matters to go 
 through, but our man of business — 
 he will be yours as well now," she 
 added, with a sigh — the sigh was 
 absolutely necessary — " is most con- 
 siderate. Everything, no doubt, 
 will adjust itself in the most satis- 
 factory manner." 
 
 As a matter of fact, she began to 
 see possibilities as many and great 
 and tall as the Anakims. Warbeck, 
 happily, was still unmarried. . . . 
 She had decided that Jane only 
 needed to have her hair done pro- 
 perly, and to be generally over- 
 hauled by a good maid. For the 
 rest, she was even pleasing ; she 
 was uncommon, and uncommon 
 girls were in demand ; that was why 
 those Americans married so well. 
 
 " You must keep your delightful 
 country ideas," she said, pleasantly, 
 remembering Lord Warbeck's love 
 of the unaffected. *' I hope London 
 will not make you cynical. Men 
 hate cynical girls."
 
 140 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 " Why should London change 
 her? " said Miss Caroline, wonder- 
 ing whether *' cynical " was a new 
 epidemic : something of an asth- 
 matic nature. 
 
 " Well, I hardly know how to 
 explain," said the Countess. " It is 
 one of those things one takes for 
 granted." 
 
 Miss Caroline looked anxiously at 
 Jane. Everything in the nature of 
 change alarmed her. 
 
 " Do you think," she said, at last, 
 "that London will be good for 
 Jane ? " 
 
 " London is very healthy," said 
 Lady Warbeck. " My doctor tells 
 me that even the fogs are whole- 
 some — if your lungs can stand 
 them." 
 
 " It is not the fogs I fear," said 
 Miss Caroline, " it's the folk." 
 
 " The folk ? " said Lady Warbeck, 
 " the folk f I understand. I know 
 very little about them. They keep 
 in the East End. Once or twice 
 my dear stepson lent them Gros- 
 venor Square for a meeting. But 
 we were all out of town at the 
 
 time." 
 
 " Aunt Caroline calls everybody,
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 14! 
 
 folk," explained Jane, colouring in 
 her effort not to laugh. 
 
 " Really ? " said the Countess. 
 " Of course there is no such thing 
 as everybody — that is a newspaper 
 vulgarism. One is either a some- 
 body or a nobody — irrespective of 
 rank or profession. The next best 
 thing to a somebody, is a nobody in a 
 good set ! " 
 
 She smiled as she spoke, for there 
 were few pleasures she enjoyed so 
 much as expounding the truths 
 that be — as she understood them. 
 Had she been born in a humbler 
 sphere she would, no doubt, have 
 been the principal of a ladies' col- 
 lege. Women who possess what 
 Mr. Joe Gargery called a " master 
 mind," like to manage men, but they 
 like to manage other women still 
 better ; it is a greater triumph 
 from an artistic point of view. Lady 
 Warbeck promised herself unalloyed 
 joy in directing the unsophisticated 
 being Heaven had dropped in her 
 way. 
 
 She had to endure several pangs, 
 however, as she drove to the hotel, 
 (where she was spending the night), 
 for she could not persuade herself
 
 142 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 that because Jane was unassuming 
 she was necessarily meek. And 
 meekness in a protege is an essen- 
 tial, if one is to be a patroness with 
 any degree of comfort or satisfac- 
 tion. The Dowager was by nature 
 a kind woman. If she was ap- 
 proached with what she considered 
 proper respect, she was often found 
 even heroic. She would put her- 
 self out to do amiable things : she 
 arranged meetings between people 
 who wanted or were wanted to 
 make each other's acquaintance ; she 
 found berths for younger sons ; she 
 assisted mothers with their daugh- 
 ters ; she begged unscrupulously 
 from the rich ; she pushed young 
 talent (she encouraged all the arts) ; 
 she recommended governesses, and 
 dressmakers, and orphan homes, and 
 hospitals, and hotels, and deserving 
 cases — indeed, to sum up her virtues 
 in a sentence, she never missed an 
 opportunity of doing something to 
 her credit. And now she had taken 
 a fancy to Jane — which was the 
 highest possible credit to both of 
 them. For her ladyship had good 
 taste and was not easily satisfied.
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 143 
 
 " The child is neither good form 
 nor bad," she wrote to Warbeck. 
 " She is no form at all, and would 
 be called original. (I do not mean 
 that she swears like Lady Bun- 
 tynge.) She is very innocent, and 
 has, I assume, no accomplishments. 
 But really, dear, I cannot help 
 thinking that is an advantage. 
 Nowadays every one wants to per- 
 form and no one will listen, and a 
 nice quiet girl who can merely 
 appreciate would be much sought 
 after. She must take up some 
 serious interest, and I shall advise 
 Greek — it is better than philan- 
 thropy, because it does not let 
 one in for bazaars. I shall also 
 urge the engagement of a governess- 
 companion — that sweet, lady-like 
 person whom the dear Baroness was 
 telling me of would be just the 
 creature. In appearance your 
 cousin (for she is your cousin, after 
 all) is most pleasing, her features 
 and bearing reminded me in the 
 uioit painful manner of your grand- 
 father." (^The deceased peer in 
 question had been distinguished for 
 his moral rather than his physical 
 charms. His wife, however, may
 
 144 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 have discerned him spiritually^ 
 " Imagine my hotmdless relief to be 
 so agreeably disappointed. She is 
 vmch handsomer than Tunborough's 
 scraggy Lady Marian. Bye the bye, 
 I hear that Lady Marian's photo- 
 graphs are for sale in all the shop- 
 windows, and that they sell better 
 than those of that Granada person, 
 who has such fine legs and jumps. 
 Lady Dundry, Marian's godmother, 
 is so upset about it that she has 
 turned Roman Catholic. Poor 
 dear ! " {Lady War beck divided 
 the human race into dears^ poor 
 dears., and persons.) " I will write 
 more fully in a day or two, but 
 remember that I am getting old and 
 cannot be with you much longer. 
 " Your affectionate grandmother, 
 
 " A. Warbeck." 
 
 " That little hint about my age," 
 she thought, " will bring him home 
 at the end of the month." 
 
 And she slept more soundly that 
 night than she had for many weeks. 
 
 Jane, on the morrow, when she 
 found herself actually seated in the 
 train and gliding out of the little
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 1 45 
 
 Station at Brentmore, hardly knew 
 whether to laugh or cry. She had 
 not shed tears over her parting with 
 her grandfather and Aunt Caroline, 
 for she was coming back to see them 
 again so shortly, and they had both 
 seemed in such good spirits at her 
 wonderful fortune. (Fortunately, 
 Jane was not hard to deceive, for 
 neither old Battle nor his daughter 
 were adepts at concealing their 
 emotions.) But now she felt lonely ; 
 the Countess had warned her that 
 she always slept when she was 
 travelling, and never attempted to 
 talk, so Jane stared out of the win- 
 dow, and found her only comfort in 
 thinking that now she was rich she 
 could send De Boys anonymous 
 bank-notes and so enjoy the rare 
 distinction of helping a genius. 
 For she no longer thought of him 
 as her lover : a very dear friend, 
 that was all, a sort of relation, 
 almost a brother — but more inte- 
 resting. If he ever married and 
 had children she would be their 
 godmother and try to like his wife. 
 She might also build him a church, 
 and in the meantime she would do 
 all she could for poor Mr. O'Nelli-
 
 146 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 gan, the curate, who had been his 
 tutor. 
 
 When she thought of herself she 
 was at once both eager and fearful 
 to learn what the Future would be : 
 as if there is not always still another 
 Future — when one Future has be- 
 come a Past — to fear and yet rush 
 into ! Her personal experience of 
 the world was slight to the point of 
 nothingness, but from a long course 
 of incessant and unsystematic read- 
 ing she had gathered such a variety 
 of (more or less uncertain) know- 
 ledge, from metaphysic to the 
 Greek drama, that she was, as she 
 told her aunt, prepared for any- 
 thing. In imagination, she had 
 walked in courts and market-places, 
 in ancestral halls and suburban 
 villas ; poets, scholars, and wits 
 were her constant companions, not 
 to mention kings and archbishops ; 
 for one accustomed to such company, 
 the Dowager Countess of Warbeck, 
 and even a row of flunkies, had no 
 terror. When she saw the big 
 drawing-rooms at Queen's Gate (the 
 Dowager's town residence) she 
 thought that the kitchen at Up-at- 
 Battle's was more cheerful. Even
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 1 47 
 
 the piano, which had ebony legs 
 and was elegantly draped in an 
 Indian shawl, seemed to cry out for 
 a sympathetic touch. Jane in her 
 grey alpaca felt very sorry for it. 
 Lady Warbeck had been fully pre- 
 pared to see her trip over the rugs, 
 slide off the brocaded chairs, and 
 dazzled by the unaccustomed splen- 
 dour of her surroundings. It was 
 disappointing in some respects that 
 she did not, yet, on the whole, satis- 
 factory. 
 
 " To-morrow," said her ladyship, 
 " I suppose you would like to see 
 Grosvenor Square ? " 
 
 " Any day you think best, grand- 
 mama ! " said Jane. 
 
 The Dowager had told her that • 
 she preferred this mode of address. 
 But, as her maid told the house- 
 keeper, " Her lad'ship was not born 
 yesterday — she knew what she was 
 about, bless you ! " 
 
 "Trust her," said the housekeeper, 
 " she's got the brains of the whole 
 fam'ly ; she'll marry Lady Jane to 
 his lordship — mark my words ! " 
 
 Thus profanely do hirelings dis- 
 cern the hidden motives of the 
 mighty.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 IN WHICH A YOUNG GENTLEMAN DE- 
 FINES DUTY AND OTHER UNCER- 
 TAINTIES. 
 
 ^IVEN two young people, 
 \\ idleness, and a week, and 
 the sum total is Folly ; 
 add the artistic tempera- 
 ment and a pretty gift 
 for philosophic discussion, 
 and you get Sympathy ; multiply 
 by a sound knowledge of the Classic 
 amorists, and the result is Romance. 
 De Boys had been at The Clois- 
 ters one week when he received 
 tidings of Jane's altered position. 
 He felt at once that whatever hopes 
 he had formed with regard to their 
 marriage, would now be idle, nay, 
 more — presumptuous. Such in- 
 stant surrender, it may be, showed 
 modesty and good taste, but for a 
 lover he was, perhaps, resigned too 
 148
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. I49 
 
 soon. Resignation is an heroic 
 virtue, but it best displays its spirit 
 after a sharp tussle with despair. In 
 this instance, however, it seemed as 
 though the two giants had merely 
 yawned at each other. Mauden had 
 not the smallest doubt of his great 
 love for Jane, notwithstanding he 
 wrote so seldom and a cold tone 
 had crept into her replies — all that 
 sort of thing could be put right in 
 a single interview, when the time 
 came for a serious understanding, — 
 or, at least, it might have been put 
 rio-ht, if she had not inherited this 
 beastly money — and the beastlier 
 title. He had already made up his 
 mind not to enter the Church, and 
 had his eyes fixed on a professorial 
 chair. Professor Mauden and Lady 
 Jane Mauden did not, in his opinion, 
 sound well. By a confusion of ideas, 
 too, Jane Shannon seemed the sha- 
 dow and Sophia Jenyns the reality, 
 and while he composed his pretty 
 speeches to Jane, he rehearsed them 
 (with appropriate expression) to 
 Sophia. It must be remembered, 
 he was quite unaware that the 
 actress was Wrath's wife. 
 
 Wrath had begun his Madonna,
 
 150 A STUDY IN TEMPtATIONS. 
 
 and when he was not painting, he 
 would sit in rapturous thought. 
 The Madonna, too, not to speak 
 irreverently, had Margaret's nose — 
 and Sophia's nose had a far finer 
 shape than Lady Hyde-Bassett's. 
 Sophia shed bitter tears over the 
 agonising pettiness of the whole 
 trouble ; but, in the first place, she 
 was feeling ill, and secondly, as she 
 told herself, straws show which way 
 the wind blows. That her husband 
 made his picture like Margaret, 
 against his will — indeed, uncon- 
 sciously — Avas a significant and ap- 
 palling fact : his very St. Joseph had 
 a look of her. Yet Wrath fondly 
 imagined that his work was purely 
 ideal, flatly opposed to realism, all 
 composed from the unearthly ma- 
 terial of his religious instinct. These 
 reflections and a constant headache 
 were as frank in their villainy as the 
 stage-direction — " Enter, attendant, 
 with two murderers." No creatures 
 for compromise, these ! 
 
 Sophia was strolling in the garden 
 with De Boys one afternoon, and 
 found herself thinking that love was 
 a mistake — it made one too un- 
 happy ; friendship, on the other
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 151 
 
 hand, was soothing and agree- 
 able. 
 
 "Social conventions," De Boys 
 was saying, "are the greatest nui- 
 sance. I would banish them with 
 a fiery sword. There were none 
 such in the Garden of Eden ! " 
 
 " Ah, but in the Garden of Eden 
 there was only one woman ! " sighed 
 Sophia. 
 
 "Why," he said, in an injured 
 voice, " do you always pretend to 
 be so cynical ? I do not see why we 
 cannot go back to — to the sort of 
 existence — I mean the idyllic and 
 perfect state of Adam and Eve 
 before the Fall. Merely viewed 
 as a philosophical experiment it 
 might at least be attempted. If it 
 proved successful, it would en- 
 courage others " 
 
 " But if it failed " said 
 
 Sophia. 
 
 He cleared his throat. "You 
 must let me translate for you some 
 tremendous passages from the 
 'Phaedrus,'" he replied. "Plato 
 deals with the whole question as 
 only a poet can — for he was a poet. 
 And I think you will say with me 
 that it is a poet's subject ; its philo-
 
 152 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 sopliy is not of this world, but is, as 
 it were, a figure of the True, and 
 musical, as is Apollo's lute. I can- 
 not agree with Browning when he 
 speaks of — 
 
 " ' The heroic for earth too hard, 
 The passion that left the world to lose itself 
 in the sky.' 
 
 Why give so much consolation to 
 those who have failed to realise their 
 ideals — who have merely aspired, and 
 utter no word of praise to those who 
 have actually attained to Higher 
 Things ? All the teaching of the 
 present day seems to assume that 
 no man or woman ever yet accom- 
 plished a purpose, or thoroughly be- 
 lieved in anything or anybody ! " It 
 is so delightful to be young, and 
 long-winded, and able to believe, at 
 least, in oneself ! " A hero, nowa- 
 days," he went on, "need not fight: 
 he has only to say he would like to 
 fight if he could ! " 
 
 "You have so much moral cou- 
 rage," said Sophia, " and I have 
 none ! " 
 
 *' If I may say so, I think you are 
 the most courageous woman I have 
 ever met. You have not only the 
 power to Will— but to Do."
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 153 
 
 " I fear you are mistaken. I have 
 too much Do and too little Will — if 
 you understand me." 
 
 " A little impulsive, perhaps." 
 
 " I can only resist one impulse by 
 yielding to another," said Sophia. 
 "I know my own character too 
 well. I need a restraining force." 
 
 De Boys drew himself up, and 
 would have made a fine allegorical 
 study for any of the heroic virtues. 
 
 " You," he said, " may need a 
 restraining force in the same way 
 that a highly poetical imagination 
 requires discipline : noble desires 
 and fine thoughts must not be 
 wasted on that ' chartered libertine,' 
 the air." The breeze stirred a mad- 
 dening curl which fluttered on the 
 nape of Sophia's neck, and the 
 young man sighed. So far, air had 
 the advantage of philosophy. 
 
 " A woman like you," he said, "so 
 extraordinarily gifted — I speak quite 
 impersonally — might do so much by 
 refusing ta accept the low standard 
 of existing morality. We want some 
 beautiful and witty saint : what 
 Wrath might call 'a saint in draw- 
 ing.' It is such a cruel wrong to 
 give people the idea that only sin-
 
 154 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 ners are amusing or good-looking. 
 There is sublime beauty, no doubt, 
 in the mere expression of a pure- 
 minded being : but when a fine 
 spirit is set in fair material, and she 
 can flavour her chaste conversation 
 with Attic salt, her influence must 
 undoubtedly cover a larger field 
 than if she looked dowdy and talked 
 banalities. And, I take it, a woman 
 who did not accept life in its vanity, 
 would find no possible pleasure in 
 the adornment of her own person : 
 she would simply regard it as a duty 
 which she owed to society — one 
 which, I think, would come under 
 the head of honouring the king ! " 
 
 Sophia felt her enthusiasm rising 
 towards sainthood : De Boys had a 
 perfectly charming view of moral 
 obligations. 
 
 "You think," she quavered, "it 
 is a duty to try — and look — decent ! " 
 Two hours and a half spent over her 
 toilette that morning needed some 
 slight justification. 
 
 De Boys's eyes wandered over her 
 face and figure. 
 
 " Unquestionably," he said, with 
 what resembled, but was not, calm- 
 ness ; " unquestionably, a duty."
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 155 
 
 " How," said Sophia, " should one 
 begin if one wished to rebel against 
 existing low standards of morality? " 
 
 "By the silent but convincing 
 force of example," he replied — " by 
 your actions." 
 
 "What kind of actions?" she 
 asked. " You know — I have — " 
 she blushed — " a soup kitchen." 
 
 Delicious simpleton ! and with it 
 all, a genius ! 
 
 " Soup kitchens," he said gravely, 
 " are excellent ; but, morally speak- 
 ing, they do not convey anything 
 but soup." 
 
 Their eyes met, and the result was 
 a duet in laughter. 
 
 "You shall not make fun of me," 
 she said at last. 
 
 " Make fun of you ! As if I could 
 make fun of you ! " 
 
 "I often laugh at myself," she 
 said. " I am always ridiculous ; even 
 when I am unhappy I am perfectly 
 absurd. All my tragedy is in my 
 acting ; my real life is a burlesque." 
 
 " But when are you unhappy ? " 
 he said, in a voice of unfeigned con- 
 cern, and with a fierce glance at the 
 imaginary offender. " When are 
 you unhappy ? "
 
 156 A STUDY IN 1 EMPTATIONS. 
 
 " Often," said Sophia ; " in fact, 
 always. I am so tired of being 
 treated like a buffoon ! Even Wrath 
 himself — even Wrath, my first and 
 dearest friend " she paused. 
 
 " Of course," said De Boys, swal- 
 lowing envy, hatred, malice, and all 
 uncharitableness at one gulp, "he 
 must be your dearest friend." 
 
 " All my life," she faltered—" all 
 my life — my friend ; but even he 
 tells me that I act well only because 
 I must. And is not that in itself 
 sufficient to prove that he regards 
 me as an irresponsible being — a 
 marionette with a faculty of speech ? 
 I know my words are often very 
 silly, but my thoughts are terribly 
 serious. Oh, if he knew how 
 serious ! " 
 
 De Boys himself was surprised at 
 her change of manner — although it 
 had never occurred to him that she 
 was absolutely flippant. He had ex- 
 plained away her whimsicalities and 
 nonsense as the vagaries of genius. 
 What would have looked like af- 
 fectation in a woman of common- 
 place attainments, seemed, at least, 
 pardonable in one who had so many 
 atoning qualities ; she was not, how-
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 157 
 
 ever, attractive because of her foolish- 
 ness, but in spite of it. Young and 
 inexperienced as Mauden was, he 
 felt all this no less than the middle- 
 aged Wrath, who had loved Sophia 
 too long, and loved her too deeply, 
 not to love also with wisdom. The 
 difference between these two men — 
 the one who loved her and the one 
 who thought he loved her — was 
 shown in the fact that, while Wrath 
 helped her, as delicately as he could, 
 to overcome her faults, Mauden en- 
 couraged them. Yet such is the 
 contrariety between effects and in- 
 tentions, that neither Wrath nor 
 Mauden, nor, be it said, any human 
 creature, could give Sophia the one 
 thing needful — peace of heart. She 
 chafed alike under praise or blame : 
 no one understood her, no one knew 
 what she really meant or really 
 wanted ; even her nearest, best, and 
 dearest misconstrued her ten times 
 a day. 
 
 " If he only knew," she repeated, 
 " how serious I am ! " 
 
 " You must remember," said 
 Mauden, " there are a great many 
 years between you ; Wrath pro- 
 bably regards you still as a small
 
 158 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 child. It was and is exactly the 
 same in my own home : my uncle — 
 the kindest and most generous man 
 in the world — never can understand 
 that my days for leading-strings are 
 past." 
 
 Sophia caught her breath : De 
 Boys had plucked up the very root 
 of the matter. She was no com- 
 panion for Wrath : he thought her 
 too young — perhaps she wearied 
 him, just as children occasionally 
 tire even the fondest of their rela- 
 tives. It was only natural that he 
 should find Margaret Hyde-Bassett's 
 society so pleasant : they were 
 nearer in years, they had both lost 
 their sensitiveness to mere impres- 
 sions, and were now rather re-colour- 
 ing their old experiences than 
 gaining fresh ones. 
 
 " I never thought of that before," 
 she said, " but now you speak of it, 
 I see the reasonableness of the idea. 
 It explains everything." 
 
 "But," said De Boys, "we are 
 both young : we can never seem 
 children to each other. We both 
 know that we are responsible beings, 
 that we are masters of our fate : that 
 we are under the law of liberty."
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 1 59 
 
 *' Masters of our fate," repeated 
 Sophia ; " do you believe that ? " 
 
 " How can I disbeheve it," he 
 said, *' when I hve and have the evi- 
 dence of each day to convince me." 
 
 Sophia turned her face towards 
 him. " Tell me," she said, "what I 
 must do. I am tired of thinking. 
 The world seems so unreal some- 
 times, and words and people and 
 things lose all meaning. But I 
 could be obedient, I could do what 
 I was told, and I think — I could be 
 happy that way. I want to escape 
 from my own commands : I — I am 
 too merciless a tyrant." 
 
 " Sophia ! " said Mauden. He 
 had never called her Sophia before : 
 it was a great step for him, but she 
 was too preoccupied to notice it. 
 " Sophia," he said, again, " can we 
 not both be obedient to our best in- 
 stincts ? can we not follow them — 
 together ? " 
 
 " What are they ? " said Sophia ; 
 " and can we trust them ? " 
 
 Before he could reply the sound of 
 Wrath's deep, rare laughter came 
 through the windows which opened 
 on the lawn. Was it thus that 
 Madonnas were painted ?
 
 l6o A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 "Finish," said Sophia, turning 
 pale — " finish what you were going 
 to say — when he laughed." 
 
 " I think I could write it better," 
 said De Boys. 
 
 " Do you, too, write ? " she said. 
 " A — a friend of mine had — a friend 
 who never told her anything, but he 
 wrote beautiful letters — oh, such 
 letters ! and then he would walk up 
 and down the room while she read 
 them." Her head drooped and her 
 voice trembled ; these reminiscences 
 were heart-breaking. " But," she 
 said, looking up, " you are not at all 
 like the man who did that : you are 
 quite — quite different. I should have 
 thought yo7i could have spoken out." 
 
 "I can," cried De Boj^s, on his 
 mettle — "I can! I will, now that 
 you have told me — I may." 
 
 " Of course you ;;z«jv," said Sophia, 
 " because my knowledge of you as- 
 sures me that you will not say any- 
 thing — silly. I mean something 
 which ought not to be said — or 
 written." 
 
 " Friendship," said De Boys — 
 " perfect friendship casteth out fear. 
 Between friends there ought to be 
 no dread of giving offence."
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS, l6l 
 
 " N — no ! " said Sophia ; " but 
 at the same time we must not 
 think that our friends are the only 
 people we can treat rudely, and with 
 unkindness." 
 
 " Unkindness ! " said De Boys. 
 " How can you so misunderstand 
 me!" 
 
 " I was not thinking of you," she 
 said. ''At that moment I had 
 other friends in my mind — women 
 friends." 
 
 This was only a half-truth, 
 and it flashed across her mind 
 that it was not easy to be saintly 
 even in the course of a most inno- 
 cent conversation : one could lie in 
 all circumstances and for the most 
 trivial reason — indeed, for no reason 
 in the world. 
 
 "The ideal union," began De 
 Boys — " the union we have already 
 discussed " 
 
 " The Before-the-Fall ideal," she 
 said quickly. " I know." 
 
 " Why could not we — would you 
 be willing — I should say — would 
 you mind very much — being called 
 my wife ? " 
 
 " My dear De Boys ! " she mur- 
 mured, with maternal pity and 
 II
 
 1 62 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 affection — "My dear De Boys" — 
 and she looked at him, smihng 
 helplessly — " My dear De Boys ! " 
 
 Anything more chilling to lover- 
 like aspirations is not to be ima- 
 gined. Long years afterwards the 
 echo of that motherly " My dear De 
 Boys ! " could bring an east wind on 
 the warmest day. 
 
 "It is my turn," he said, hotly, 
 " to be treated like a buffoon when 
 I am serious ! " 
 
 " Don't say that," said Sophia ; 
 " but — but the idea startled me ! " 
 
 " Is that all ? " he said, eagerly ; 
 " because, in that case, you might 
 become accustomed to it." 
 
 "First," she murmured, at last, 
 " let us clearly understand what the 
 idea is." 
 
 " We should remain, just as 
 we are — friends," said the young 
 man, " only truer friends than the 
 world understands by the term ; 
 but, as a concession to propriety, we 
 would go through the ceremony of 
 marriage. It — it is rather difficult 
 to explain in detail : the ideal never 
 does lend itself to definition ! " 
 
 "There would be no love-making 
 — nothing silly," said Sophia, " no-
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 1 63 
 
 thing commonplace, and ridiculous, 
 and domestic ! " 
 
 " Certainly not." 
 
 "Then," said the lady, "suppose 
 we tried it for a little before we 
 actually bound ourselves by any re- 
 ligious and legal form ? " 
 
 He saw immediately the countless 
 advantages of this suggestion, and, 
 as they unrolled themselves he grew 
 pale at the ^zj'advantages of his first 
 plan. It is the memory of peril and 
 not peril itself which is so appalling. 
 De Boys looked back at the last ten 
 minutes as he might have glanced 
 at a thunderbolt which had missed 
 him by an inch. 
 
 " We must, of course, do nothing 
 rash," he said, " because rashness 
 would mar the harmony of the 
 action. To do things decently and 
 in order is the very rhythm of exis- 
 tence." 
 
 " I will think it well over," said 
 Sophia, " and let you know my de- 
 cision on Monday ; but until then 
 do not refer again to the subject. If 
 we talk, it must be as though this 
 conversation had never taken place." 
 
 " But on Monday," said De Boys, 
 '' I must leave."
 
 164 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 " Then," said Sophia, calmly, " I 
 will tell you in good time, so that 
 you may make the necessary pre- 
 parations — whether I have decided 
 to accompany you." 
 
 " But," he stammered, " might 
 not that look odd ? Your guardian 
 
 " I am not Wrath's ward," she 
 said ; " I am my own mistress. 
 Leave everything to me." 
 
 A long silence followed : they 
 sauntered, one of them quite blindly, 
 towards the house. 
 
 " I fancy," he said, " I heard the 
 dressing-gong." 
 
 Sophia thought, that although he 
 was a better conversationalist than 
 Wrath he did not wear so well : 
 two hours seemed to exhaust the 
 fund of his ideas. Now Wrath 
 could maintain an interesting silence 
 from year's end to year's end. 
 
 " Oh ! the difference of man and 
 man ! " 
 
 Gentler ladies than Goneril have 
 ]iad occasion to utter the same 
 lamentation.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 IN WHICH ANOTHER YOUNG GENTLE- 
 MAN DEFINES DUTY. 
 
 ^^^HE Dowager Countess of 
 Warbeck found Jane more 
 interesting each day ; she 
 was so quiet in manner, 
 so sweet - tempered, so 
 thoughtful, so sensible — 
 in fact, the Dowager's letters to her 
 dear friends the Marchioness of 
 Dayme and the Lady Dundry, were 
 always overweight during that 
 period. Her notes to her grandson, 
 however, were brief, telling much 
 of her own ill-health and very little 
 of Jane. The Countess never made 
 the fatal mistake of supposing that 
 the rest of mankind were fools, and 
 she alone had wisdom ; she gave 
 every creature credit for a certain
 
 1 66 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 amount of perception and a great 
 deal of cunning. For this reason 
 her machinations usually proved 
 successful. She was extremely care- 
 ful not to drop a word which might 
 excite Warbeck's suspicion of her 
 darling scheme ; she even wrote 
 him a glowing account of a new 
 debutante who, she declared, had 
 exactly the kind of beauty he 
 admired. Her heart swelled with 
 a diplomatist's pride when she 
 received a telegram from the young 
 peer announcing his sudden return 
 to England. " Let him once see 
 Jane," she thought, " and the rest 
 is inevitable." 
 
 In the meantime, his portrait, 
 (painted by Wrath ,the Academician) , 
 was placed in a better light, and 
 Jane was occasionally reminded that 
 although the work in question was 
 an excellent likeness, it did not do 
 the original full justice. " No 
 artist," said the Dowager, " could 
 ever catch his smile ! " 
 
 " He is certainly very handsome," 
 said Jane. " Grandfather's nephew," 
 she added, after a little pause, " is 
 also handsome. The one, you 
 know, who is so clever and who is
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 1 67 
 
 now at Oxford. Would you like to 
 see his photograph ? " 
 
 "I would," said her ladyship, 
 drily. To her horror, Jane un- 
 fastened her gown at the throat and 
 displayed a small locket and chain. 
 She opened the locket and handed 
 it, with a blush, to her grandmama. 
 
 " Not a bad-looking person — for his 
 kind," said the Dowager, " not at all 
 bad-looking. He has a look of 
 Spence " (Spence was the head 
 footman). " I am sure he is most 
 worthy. But I would not wear him 
 in a locket ! It might give stupid 
 people the idea that you were in 
 love with him — and there are so 
 many stupid people ! Besides, if it 
 came to his ears he might think 
 the same thing. Young men are so 
 conceited." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Jane, "I should not 
 like him to think that. I — I do 
 not see how he could. He — he 
 isn't conceited, and — and he is not 
 a bit like Spence ! " 
 
 " My dear," said her ladyship, 
 " what would you say yourself, if 
 you saw a young girl wearing a 
 man's photograph on her neck ! It 
 is not maidenly — in fact, with no
 
 1 68 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 desire to hurt your feelings, it is 
 immodest. I appreciate your childish 
 and innocent sentiment in the matter 
 — affection and gratitude are always 
 charming, even when sadly mis- 
 placed ; but you are no longer a 
 little girl running wild in the fields. 
 The only person you could wear in 
 that fashion would be your husband, 
 or, in conceivable circumstances, 
 your future husband. But as you 
 have neither one nor the other at 
 present, it is more seemly that your 
 neck should be unfettered. Enjoy 
 your liberty while you may." She 
 smiled her sweetest — and the 
 Dowager could smile like an angel 
 when she chose — but Jane sighed. 
 The chain, however, and the photo- 
 graph were slipped into her pocket ; 
 she could not be immodest, and, no 
 doubt, her grandmama had spoken 
 sound sense. 
 
 " Play me that exquisite Presto J'' 
 said the Countess. " I doat on 
 Beethoven when he escapes from 
 that terrible diddledy - diddledy- 
 diddledy in the bass. The Brent- 
 more person really taught you ex- 
 tremely well. Take it at a good 
 pace."
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 1 69 
 
 One has not much time to muse 
 on the absent if one is playing a 
 Presto, and an active lady marks 
 the time with her cane. 
 
 Warbeckwas expected to luncheon 
 that same day, and the Countess 
 had given orders that he was to be 
 shown into the library, as she wished 
 a few moments' private conversation 
 with him. Jane, therefore, was 
 half-way through the Presto when 
 his lordship's arrival was announced. 
 
 " Don't stop pla^ang, my dear," 
 said the Dowager. " I so like to 
 hear music in the distance." 
 
 Then she went dovv'n to her 
 grandson. 
 
 The young man came forward as 
 she entered the room, and seemed 
 surprised, delighted, and relieved to 
 see her walking. 
 
 " You must be much better," he 
 said ; " I have been so anxious about 
 you. I hardly dared hope that you 
 were even on the sofa ! " 
 
 " I am almost myself, dear," said 
 his grandmother. " I began to 
 improve from the instant I received 
 your telegram. Sir Claretie says 
 he considers my recovery a miracle. 
 But you are not looking well,"
 
 170 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 He was thinner and paler than 
 he had been a fortnight since, and 
 had, in some way, a new expression, 
 an even greater seriousness of 
 manner. 
 
 "You have something on your 
 mind," said her ladyship, suddenly ; 
 " you are going to tell me that you 
 are engaged ! " 
 
 Warbeck smiled, but shook his 
 head. " Chcrchez la fenwie is such 
 stale doctrine," he said. 
 
 " There is no newer doctrine for 
 the old Adam ! " said the Dowager ; 
 " but if there is no woman in your 
 news, then it has something to do 
 with religion. Do not say that you 
 have been reading Hooker, and 
 Laud, and the rest of them, and 
 have become High Church ! " 
 
 "I read Hooker and Laud long 
 ago," he said, " but I am not a High 
 Churchman." 
 
 "Then," she said, "you are a 
 Higher Pantheist. Oh dear ! " 
 
 " To save you further suspense," 
 he said, " I am still — nothing. But 
 I have joined a Celibate Brother- 
 hood." 
 
 The Countess did not look shocked, 
 but her aspect was certainly grave,
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 171 
 
 " It means, of course, the end of 
 everything — from an ambitious point 
 of view," she said, slowly. 
 
 "I think," said Warbeck, "it 
 means the beginning of everything 
 — from the only point of view worth 
 considering." 
 
 " Quite so," said her ladyship — 
 " quite so. But there is neither 
 wisdom nor virtue in renouncing 
 marriage unless you fully realise 
 what marriage is and what it has to 
 offer. In my opinion it is far more 
 difficult to be a married saint than 
 a saint in the cloisters ; Bishop 
 Taylor has pointed this out with 
 much eloquence. Do you think 
 you will never wish to marry ? " 
 
 Warbeck laughed with the buoy- 
 ancy of a mortal who has never 
 loved. Before he could reply, the 
 Countess checked him. 
 
 "I see," she said, "you know 
 nothing about it. I should feel 
 better satisfied if I knew that you 
 had had some romantic experience. 
 Because if it does not come early 
 — it will come late. And then 
 what trouble ! I have seen such 
 unhappiness come of people as- 
 suming that because they never
 
 172 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 have cared for any one, they never 
 will." 
 
 "You see," said Warbeck, serenely, 
 " if a man knows that he is under a 
 vow of celibacy the question of sex 
 becomes a dead letter. A woman 
 is merely an individual ! The effect 
 of a vow is almost miraculous." 
 
 The Countess groaned. "The 
 great thing," she said, "is to be 
 saved from oneself, and oneself so 
 easily passes for a great conviction ! 
 See how many young people gabble 
 off the marriage vows : and their 
 effect is by no means miracu- 
 lous." 
 
 "Well," said Warbeck, naively, 
 "when you consider what a large 
 proportion of humanity take them, 
 you must admit that, on the whole, 
 they observe them very faithfully. 
 Society is so small and the world is 
 so large, one must look at the 
 marriages of the world." 
 
 " This brotherhood," she said, 
 " this society, or whatever it is, you 
 have joined, is not, I understand, 
 religious ? " 
 
 If it was not religious, she 
 thought, one could wriggle out of 
 its ridiculous regulations, and even
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 1 73 
 
 if it was, one could, in an emergency, 
 change one's religion ! She was a 
 lady who only considered impedi- 
 ments for the purpose of destroying 
 them. 
 
 "Oh, no," said Warbeck, "its 
 work is purely secular. Dawes, of 
 Balliol, founded it — you know 
 Dawes, of course ? " 
 
 " Dawes ? " said the Countess. 
 " Do you mean the person who lives 
 at Shoreditch and writes to the 
 Times about the Athenian Demo- 
 cracy ? " 
 
 Warbeck nodded his head. " He 
 is a tremendous swell," he said ; " he 
 is the sort of genius who lives in 
 seclusion and animates a great pub- 
 lic movement. There must always 
 be a grand character of that kind, 
 who can despise fame and use am- 
 bitious men as tools." 
 
 " Dear me ! " said the Dowager ; 
 " so you, I presume, are in this Mr. 
 Dawes's tool-basket?" 
 
 This was not the Avay to express 
 an unselfish young man's devotion 
 to a noble cause ; he felt this, and 
 was deeply hurt. 
 
 "If you like to put it that way," 
 he said, flushing a little, "yes — I
 
 174 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 am in Dawes's tool-basket. I hope, 
 however, it is not because I am 
 vulgarly ambitious. I only wish to 
 perform my highest duties in the 
 best way. My only object in taking 
 the vow was this — to serve the 
 public well one should have no 
 private interests. In any great 
 governmental crisis one is too often 
 reminded of the man in the parable 
 who had married a wife. It is time 
 some one realised, that self-sacrifice 
 is the only sure foundation for 
 permanent success." 
 
 " H'm," said the Dowager ; " very 
 high-minded and most interesting. 
 But the British Constitution does 
 not present any opportunities for 
 martyrdom ; at present, no politician 
 can be offered a worse humiliation 
 than a peerage ! But that is bad 
 enough, I admit. I have once or 
 twice thought very seriously of 
 dropping my title ; it has lost all 
 meaning, and now it is so much 
 more distinguished to be a com- 
 moner ! But come, I want to 
 introduce you to Jane. She will 
 be charmed with your views ; shej 
 too, is full of heroic nonsense."
 
 A SttJDV tN TEMPTATIONS. 1^5 
 
 Jane was still playing when the 
 Dowager and Warbeck came upon 
 her. 
 
 "This," said the Dowager, "is 
 your cousin Warbeck."
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 IN WHICH A LADY SPEAKS HER 
 MIND. 
 
 )HEN Warbeck dropped 
 his cousin's hand, he gave 
 a half-sigh. He never 
 shook hands with either 
 men or women when he 
 could possibly avoid it : 
 he regarded the act as a sign oi 
 friendship or affection — not one to be 
 heedlessly given. This idiosyncrasy 
 had made him many enemies, but 
 enemies so created are not to be 
 greatly feared. 
 
 Jane's hand was one of her 
 charms ; it was white, delicate in 
 shape, and, what was more, firm, 
 and, what was more than all, very 
 womanly. It seemed made to bestow 
 blessings. Warbeck Avas extremely 
 sensitive to moral atmosphere : 
 some people made him choke, 
 176
 
 A STUDVr IN TliMPTATlONS. I77 
 
 Others gave him new life. He was, 
 therefore, quick to appreciate the 
 young girl's grace and purity, and 
 to appreciate her was to remember 
 his vow. So he half-sighed. 
 
 Jane was already what she had 
 promised to be when De Boys left 
 Brentmore — a girl of singular beauty. 
 She had all the brilliance without 
 the self-consciousness of Sophia 
 Jenyns, and for that reason she was, 
 perhaps, less striking at first sight. 
 Sophia never permitted herself to 
 escape attention. Jane did not care 
 whether she was noticed or ignored ; 
 she knew that she was far from 
 plain, (for the pretty girl who is 
 ignorant of her own comeliness does 
 not exist), but since she had resolved 
 not to think of De Boys as a lover, 
 she had lost all interest in her ap- 
 pearance. At one time, certainly, 
 she had longed to find favour in his 
 sight and so, no doubt, had sent 
 many foolish wishes after the 
 perishable and fleeting attractions 
 of feature and complexion. But 
 this was a weakness of the past — 
 she would never be so vain again — 
 ah, never ! At the same time, when 
 she saw her new cousin, she was 
 
 12
 
 178 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 rather glad that she happened to 
 be wearing her most picturesque 
 gown. 
 
 But in spite of the agreeable im- 
 pression each had produced on the 
 other, the Dowager found them 
 both very dull during luncheon. 
 Warbeck talked on prosaic subjects 
 and rarely addressed himself to Jane. 
 The Countess observed, too, with 
 consternation, that he never once 
 looked at his cousin, but kept his 
 eyes fixed on his plate. She had 
 never seen him so stupid. As for 
 Jane, her shyness was most natural 
 and becoming ; she was a girl who 
 could hold her peace without sink- 
 ing into inanity. It was Warbeck 
 who caused her ladyship uneasiness. 
 Like most determined women she 
 could only be discouraged by time 
 — by the wearing off of enthusiasm, 
 mere facts could not shake her pur- 
 pose, nor opposition, her courage. 
 The shortest-lived of her projects at 
 least died a natural death, and was 
 immediately succeeded by a direct 
 descendant. Having made up her 
 mind that Warbeck' s marriage with 
 his cousm j ane should take place in 
 the autumn, her ladyship regarded
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 1 79 
 
 his celibate vow as a mere piece of 
 foolery ; it had absolutely no bear- 
 ing on the matter in point. But 
 why was he so depressing in his 
 manner? Had he no eyes? no ears? 
 no taste ? no manliness ? With all 
 his heroics had he so little of the 
 hero that he remained like a stock 
 or a stone in the presence of girl- 
 hood and beauty ? If this was the 
 influence of Dawes of Balliol, the 
 sooner that person was given a 
 colonial appointment the better. 
 He was not wanted in London. 
 
 When luncheon was at an end, 
 Jane was obliged to leave them, as 
 she had an engagement to drive in 
 the Park with another new relation 
 — a lady who need not detain us, 
 since she was only remarkable for 
 her visiting list. Warbeck coloured 
 a little when he wished Jane good- 
 bye. " I am afraid, too," he added, 
 "we shall not meet again for some 
 time. As my grandmother is so 
 much better, I shall return to 
 France to-morrow." He held the 
 door open for her, and again half- 
 sighed, as, having wished him a 
 pleasant journey, she passed out. 
 
 " Warbeck ! " said the Dowager,
 
 l8o A STUDY IN TEMI'XATIONS. 
 
 " surely you do not mean that ? 
 You are not going away again ? " 
 
 " I have a great deal of work on 
 hand," he said, with some awkward- 
 ness. " I am preparing one or two 
 speeches and a short pamphlet, and 
 I find I get fewer interruptions in 
 Veronne. It is such a dull little 
 village. There is only one man 
 there I can talk to — Pere Villard, 
 the historian. And he is also there 
 for quiet, so we only meet to argue ! " 
 
 " But," said her ladyship — " but 
 what do you think of Jane ? " She 
 could scarcely conceal her impatience. 
 
 "Your letters," said Warbeck, 
 after some hesitation, " had given 
 me no idea — but I have exchanged 
 so few words with her. I certainly 
 did not expect to see so — so — tall a 
 girl ! " 
 
 Lady Warbeck had frequently ob- 
 served that a man's language be- 
 came ambiguous as his sentiments 
 grew unmistakable. She gathered 
 fresh hope. 
 
 " I wonder you think her plain ! " 
 This was a stroke of genius. It 
 surprised him into candour. 
 
 "On the contrary, I think her 
 lovely."
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. l8l 
 
 " H'm ! But she is not silly with 
 it — she is most intellectual." 
 
 "I am sure of it." 
 
 The Dowager looked at the ceiling. 
 At some moments one can claim 
 sympathy even from the inanimate. 
 
 " She will no doubt marry very 
 well." 
 
 The young man frowned. " She 
 is so young yet," he said. " Do not 
 let her make any rash engagement, 
 if you can possibly keep her free. 
 It is so easy to bind oneself, and — 
 and so impossible to escape the con- 
 sequences. I mean, a promise may 
 be made in all sincerity and after 
 the most serious consideration, yet 
 
 without fully realising " He 
 
 paused. " I am only saying this," 
 he said, at last, " because a girl takes 
 so much risk — even in the most 
 favourable circumstances — when she 
 marries. Her very innocence is, in 
 a measure, against her." 
 
 "It seems to me," said the Coun- 
 tess, drily, " that innocence is against 
 a great many people." 
 
 " Not a great many^ my dear 
 grandmother," he replied, with equal 
 dryness. He got up from his chair 
 and walked to the window. Jane
 
 l82 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 at that very moment came out of 
 the house and stepped into the 
 carriage. He watched her drive 
 away. 
 
 " Yes," he said. " I can work 
 much better at Veronne." 
 
 The Countess began to wonder 
 whether a celibate vow might not 
 be a more calamitous invention than 
 she had at first suspected. 
 
 " Warbeck," she said, " you will 
 surely think better of — of this 
 arrangement you have made with 
 Dawes ? " 
 
 "Think better of it ! " he repeated. 
 " The time for thinking about it is 
 past. It is now an accomplished 
 fact. My word has been given." 
 
 " But I am certain you will 
 regret " 
 
 " It is not a step I would ever 
 allow myself to regret, nor would I 
 place myself in a situation where I 
 might be even tempted to regret it. 
 I made it with the full knowledge 
 that it might possibly involve some 
 slight self-sacrifice. Dawes has been 
 through the mill : he was most 
 careful not to conceal any probable 
 difficulty." He spoke firmly and 
 fixed his eyes on hers with an
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 1 83 
 
 expression which she recognised as 
 the family stubbornness. 
 
 " Ah," said the Countess, quickly, 
 "you think it would be safer to 
 avoid your cousin Jane. That is 
 why you are going back to Veronne ! ' ' 
 
 " What an absurd idea," said her 
 grandson. "You must think me 
 very susceptible." 
 
 " The Shannons are all alike," 
 said her ladyship ; " they are icebergs 
 to all women till they meet the right 
 one. And then they melt at a 
 glance. Look at Jane's father — 
 poor Edmund. He saw this Battle's 
 daughter hanging clothes on a line, 
 and fell in love with her on the 
 spot. Nothing would make him 
 reconsider it ; his obstinacy was 
 simply criminal. But in your case 
 matters are very different. Jane is 
 desirable from every point of view ; 
 there is no reason " 
 
 "There is every reason," said the 
 young man, " why we must change 
 the subject. You must forgive me, 
 but I cannot discuss it further." 
 
 "I will speak my mind," said 
 the Dowager. "You are ruining 
 your whole life for a whim — a fad — 
 a piece of arrant coxcombery. It is
 
 184 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 not even religious — you have ad- 
 mitted as much. What can I call 
 it, then, but affectation ? In a year's 
 time — ^less — ^you will be ashamed 
 to remember it. But in the mean- 
 while " 
 
 "In the meanwhile," said War- 
 beck, " I can at least be honourable. 
 And now I think we have talked 
 enough, my dear grandmother. You 
 will be very tired." 
 
 " Tired ? I am perfectly ill. You 
 have given me my death-blow ! " 
 She sank back in her chair, and 
 was evidently far from well. War- 
 beck knelt down by her side and 
 took her hand. 
 
 " You would not have me behave 
 dishonourably," he said ; *' you don't 
 seem to understand. It — it is not 
 always so easy to do one's duty ; 
 is it fair to make it harder ? But 
 it must be done in any case." 
 
 " Duty ! " she said, peevishly. 
 " It will soon be heroic to wear no 
 collar ! Foppery ! twaddle ! That 
 a man in your position, with your 
 responsibilities, with an unblemished 
 title to support, should stoop to 
 such indecent, mawkish, hysterical 
 balderdash/ It is scandalous ! " She
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 1 85 
 
 sank back again, but svimmoned her 
 remaining strength for one last 
 blow. " I have lived too long ! " 
 
 " You are very cruel." 
 
 "I have lived too long!" she 
 repeated. 
 
 " In a calmer moment, you will 
 see how you have wronged me ! " 
 
 " Too— long." 
 
 " Shall I ring for your maid ? " 
 
 He was really alarmed — she had 
 changed so much in the last ten 
 minvites. 
 
 " Twenty maids could not help 
 me ! Warbeck — you have not 
 meant — what you have been — 
 Of ? " Her voice was weak ; 
 
 to 
 
 saym_ 
 
 she looked a very old and very feeble 
 woman. And he loved her dearly. 
 " Tell me — you did not— mean it," 
 she repeated. 
 
 " I meant it," he said. " I must 
 always mean it." 
 
 "But in the circumstances," she 
 gasped, "this Dawes — he would 
 absolve you from — your — promise." 
 
 " Dawes ! " said Warbeck. " I 
 do not make vows to Dawes — nor 
 swear by Dawes. As I have said, 
 you do not understand how ex- 
 tremely serious a vow of this kind is."
 
 1 86 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 "You distinctly said it had 
 nothing to do with rehgion," she 
 murmured. " How can it be serious 
 when it has nothing to do with 
 rehgion ? " Her faihng eyes were 
 only weak in sight : they could still 
 pierce like needles. 
 
 " I can respect religious scruples," 
 she went on, " but I have no patience 
 with any Daweses of Balliols 1 It 
 is noble, it is saintly to kill your 
 aged grandmother for a Dawes. 
 You do not believe in a God, but you 
 will ruin your family for a Dawes 
 who lives at Shoreditch ! I am 
 tired of life ! " Once more she 
 bowed her white head. " The 
 country is going to the dogs — and 
 Daweses ! " 
 
 " My dear grandmother, will you 
 listen to reason ? " 
 
 « ' Reason ? " she groaned. * ' Every 
 bone in my body fairly aches with 
 reason. Ring for Coleman, that I 
 may get to bed ! " 
 
 He had his hand on the bell 
 when Jane entered : she had re- 
 turned with some message for the 
 Dowager. When she saw her lady- 
 ' ship's paUid face and Warbeck's 
 distress she looked from one to
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 1 87 
 
 the Other and grew pale her- 
 self. 
 
 " Grandmama," she faltered, " are 
 you feeling ill ? " 
 
 " He has killed me," said the 
 Countess, pointing to her grandson, 
 "he has given me my death-blow. 
 I shall never recover." She rose 
 with some difficulty from her chair, 
 and drew herself up to her full 
 height. 
 
 " Lean on me," said Jane, with a 
 nice disregard of Warbeck. 
 
 "No," said the Dowager ; "hence- 
 forth I lean on no one. My staff 
 has failed me when I needed it most. 
 When I can no longer support my- 
 self, I must fall. Where I fall, 
 there let me lie. Remain where 
 you are, my dear, I will not be 
 followed. Solitude now is my only 
 refuge ! " and this marvellous invalid 
 walked out of the room with grave 
 and majestic steps, leaving Jane and 
 her cousin Warbeck face to face, 
 and alone.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 IN WHICH ANOTHER LADY SPEAKS 
 HER MIND. 
 
 JANE was now able to ob- 
 serve the young man 
 more critically than had 
 yet been possible, and the 
 more she observed him, 
 the greater effort it re- 
 quired to maintain her just indig- 
 nation at his conduct. For, of 
 course, he must have behaved most 
 brutally. Had not his too fond 
 grandmother implied as much ? 
 And if she had said so, what could 
 a less partial witness think ? 
 
 "I suppose," said the girl, in a 
 severe voice, " you will at least re- 
 main in London until she is well 
 enough to see you again ? You can- 
 not part like this."
 
 A STUDY IN TP:MPTaTIONS. 1 89 
 
 " It is a most painful misunder- 
 standing," said Warbeck, 
 
 " It is not for me to dictate," said 
 Jane, in a tone of command, *' but 
 if it is a misunderstanding you will 
 surely lose no time in making it 
 clear. She is too old for these 
 violent scenes. And she has had a 
 great deal of sorrow and anxiety 
 lately : perhaps she is not so patient 
 as those who are young, and have 
 nothing to worry them but their 
 own want of thought ! " 
 
 This authoritative and elderly 
 tone in one so young and gentle 
 astonished the Earl, no doubt, but 
 he was so far from feeling any 
 resentment, that he experienced 
 some difficulty in hiding his ad- 
 miration. 
 
 " I have been trying to make it 
 all clear," he said, quietly, "ever 
 since I arrived this noon. The only 
 trouble is, that she refuses to listen. 
 I have tried to be patient, and I 
 hope I have not spoken harshly. 
 But I must do my duty whether 
 she understands it or not. The 
 quarrel has arisen — I fear we must 
 call it a quarrel — about a question 
 of duty — of honour."
 
 1 90 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 Jane's cheeks began to burn : she 
 feared he might think she was 
 inquisitive. And inquisitiveness 
 was not one of her faults. 
 
 " Please," she stammered, " please 
 do not " 
 
 But he, too, was sensitive, and 
 had very delicate feelings. 
 
 "I quite understand you," he 
 said ; " I am only afraid you will not 
 understand vie. My dear grand- 
 mother has a genius for misrepre- 
 sentation : she can describe what 
 she sees with perfect truthfulness, 
 but she does not see things as they 
 are. In this particular instance it is 
 most unfortunate. For honour has 
 only one aspect : it is not a matter 
 of opinion, but an incontrovertible 
 fact." 
 
 " But she is so honourable her- 
 self," said Jane, eagerly ; " if you 
 are in the right she must agree with 
 you — she must. Are you quite — 
 quite sure that you are right ? It 
 is almost as easy to do wrong for a 
 good motive, as to do right for a 
 bad one. There are always so many 
 reasons why we should follow our 
 own wishes." 
 
 " On the whole," said the young
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. I91 
 
 man, slowly, " I may say there is no 
 danger of any such confusion aris- 
 ing in this case : it is not a matter 
 where my duty is — is perfectly my 
 inclination. If it were not a ques- 
 tion of principle — of moral obliga- 
 tion, I — I might surrender." 
 
 " May I tell her that you will re- 
 consider it ? " said Jane. " There 
 could be no harm in saying that, 
 because the more you consider what 
 is right, the Tighter it seems." 
 
 " I cannot re-consider it," he 
 answered, looking away — "I cannot, 
 indeed ; I only want to forget it all 
 as soon as possible." 
 
 " Don't be angry with me," said 
 Jane, "but for you — that sounds 
 rather — rather cowardly. Oh, I 
 ought not to have said that. I do 
 not know the circumstances. I am 
 always saying something thought- 
 less. Indeed, I did not mean it." 
 
 " You are quite right," he said, 
 " and I am cowardly. But it is one 
 advantage that I know my own weak- 
 ness : I do not attempt feats beyond 
 my strength." Yet he did not look 
 weak, this man with a square chin 
 and a firm mouth : anything rather 
 than weak. Jane was bewildered.
 
 192 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 "My grandmother knows my 
 address," he went on ; " but I will 
 find means to hear how she is, 
 even if she does not care to write to 
 me. And — and tell her just this : 
 if it were possible to accept her 
 view, I would be more glad than 
 I could say. But we are nowhere 
 taught that duty is invariably 
 delightful. Good-bye." 
 
 " Good-bye," said Jane. 
 
 When she looked again, he was 
 gone. And she was sorry ; for he 
 had a winning countenance. If she 
 had never seen De Boys she would 
 have thought him ideally hand- 
 some. But De Boys was a king to 
 him — although he was poor and not 
 a person one might wear in a locket !
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 IN WHICH TWO LADIES ACT WITH- 
 OUT THINKING. 
 
 ^OPHIA had resolved to 
 make some appeal to 
 Wrath before the decisive 
 Monday, but she could 
 not resolve on a grievance. 
 To assign jealousy as the 
 cause of her discontent was out of 
 the question. And, as a matter of 
 fact, she did not want to analyse 
 her feelings : she feared calmness 
 as fire might dread water. She 
 only cared to survey her imaginary 
 wrongs with a poetic contempt for 
 base details ; she did not choose to 
 torture her heart with questionings, 
 nor demonstrate her husband's 
 innocence by proving herself a fool. 
 So, on Sunday afternoon, she wrote 
 two notes — one to De Boys, the 
 other to her husband. 
 
 13 193
 
 194 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 This was the one to De Boys, 
 which she gave him with her own 
 hands, between the decorous covers 
 of an hymn-book, the same even- 
 ing :— 
 
 " You must tell them that you 
 intend to walk to Barnet station 
 early to-morrow morning, and leave 
 by the eight o'clock train. Your 
 portmanteau and things can be sent 
 after you later. This will save you 
 from the breakfast-table and tedious 
 good-byes. I will meet you at the 
 cross-roads, and we can discuss our 
 future plans during the journey to 
 London. Leave everything to me. 
 For the present, of course, you must 
 return to Oxford and complete your 
 education. — S. J." 
 
 This was the letter to her hus- 
 band : — 
 
 " I have discovered a new mean- 
 ing in life and a new duty. (Never 
 believe that I will disgrace you.) 
 My weakness — I had almost written 
 my sin — has been my love for 
 yourself. But we were not sent 
 into the world to love. Subjectivity 
 
 I
 
 a 
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 195 
 
 is fatal to Art : all great i\rt is 
 objective. And love is subjectivity 
 in its lowest phase. I use these 
 philosophical terms because they 
 are convenient, and because they 
 are sufficiently comprehensive to 
 cover all subtle — and perhaps 
 agonizing — distinctions. I hope 
 the Madonna will prove your 
 greatest work. I will write to 
 Margaret from town. Please tell 
 her this. — Your unhappy Sophia. 
 
 " P.S. — I shall consult Sir Claretie 
 Mull the moment I reach London. 
 I am perfectly certain that I am 
 consumptive. But do not worry 
 about my health. I feel no pain — 
 only a great sense of approaching 
 peace r 
 
 She wept very much over this 
 letter, and felt extremely like the 
 heroine of a psychological romance. 
 To complete the illusion she had 
 taken care to attire herself in flame- 
 coloured silk, made a la sainte 
 martyre^ with silver cords knotted 
 round her waist, and opals scattered 
 on her breast. She put out the 
 light, and let the moonbeams 
 stream in upon her. It was a
 
 196 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 grand situation. Musing on her 
 own sublimity and suffering, she fell 
 sound asleep on the couch. Fortu- 
 nately, it was in the summer-time. 
 
 When she awoke it was morninsf 
 — Monday morning — and half-past 
 six. At that very moment, De 
 Boys, no doubt, was leaving the 
 house. She threw off her garments, 
 plunged in a cold bath, (which, per- 
 haps, was unlike a psychological 
 heroine), and dressed herself in 
 clinging black. A large hat and a 
 thick veil gave the final touches to 
 her unimpeachably correct costume. 
 Any fairly well-read observer would 
 have known at once, that she was a 
 misunderstood and cruelly injured 
 woman, about to elope with her 
 only friend. 
 
 She opened her bedroom door 
 and peeped out : there was no one 
 in sight. The servants, too, even 
 did she meet them, were accustomed 
 to the habits of celebrities on a 
 visit. At The Cloisters nothing 
 was remarkable but the common- 
 place. She passed two maids and 
 an under-footman on her way to 
 the room, which had been tempo- 
 rarily arranged as a studio for
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. I97 
 
 Wrath. But neither the maids nor 
 the footman showed the smallest 
 surprise when they saw her. 
 
 Sophia left her letter on the 
 mantelpiece, and fled from the 
 room through the French case- 
 ment. Wrath had done well, she 
 thought, to turn his odious picture 
 to the wall : she could never have 
 passed it else — the fascination of 
 recognising Margaret's nose was too 
 engrossing. Under its enchantment, 
 hours sped like minutes. 
 
 As she crossed the lawn she cast 
 a glance over her shoulder at 
 Wrath's window. The curtains 
 were not yet drawn : he was pro- 
 bably sleeping — sleeping while 
 she 
 
 A sob — and then for the cross- 
 roads, De Boys, and the Ideal. 
 
 Miss Eliza Bellarmine, having 
 much to say on the burning ques- 
 tion of Milton's precise meaning 
 when he spoke of a "two-handed 
 engine at the door " (a phrase so 
 beautifully imitated by a modern 
 poet in the striking lines ; — 
 
 " At the door two hands are knocking — ■ 
 Hands of locomotive might "). —
 
 198 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 Miss Eliza Bellarmine, having 
 much to say on this great matter, 
 had arisen at crack of dawn to com- 
 mit her criticism to foolscap. By 
 half-past seven she had explained 
 Milton for all time, and disposed of 
 his modern imitator as " a person of 
 vigourous imaginative faculty, but no 
 education." Her task finished, she 
 strolled out into the garden. It 
 had been raining during the night, 
 and she found herself observing 
 footmarks on the gravel path. 
 The marks were small, and had un- 
 doubtedly been made by Sophia 
 Jenyns. No one else in the house 
 wore such preposterous French 
 shoes. 
 
 Now Miss Bellarmine was a lady 
 who could put two and two to- 
 gether, and make any required 
 number. She had not been blind 
 to the sympathetic relations which 
 existed between Mr. De Boys Mau- 
 den and Mrs. Wrath. (She was 
 always studiously careful to think 
 of the actress as Mrs. Wrath). As 
 a consequence, she had thought her- 
 self prepared to see footprints — 
 anywhere. Eliza had very cynical 
 and, of course, very mistaken ideas
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 1 99 
 
 about the artistic temperament. 
 But in her secret heart, and very 
 much against that grim adviser — 
 her better judgment — she was 
 strongly attached to the bUthe 
 Sophia, and now she saw that the 
 footmarks had their ridiculous toes 
 pointed towards the carriage-drive, 
 she was filled with an unreasonable, 
 but very real alarm. She hurried 
 into the studio by the same window 
 that Sophia had left it some little 
 time before, and her quick eyes 
 went straight to the letter on the 
 mantelpiece. She read the initials 
 " T, W,," which were written on 
 the envelope in an irresolute, child- 
 ish hand. 
 
 A woman's instinct is rarely at 
 fault ; it is only when she attempts 
 to argue with it that she blunders. 
 Fortunately Eliza trusted her 
 instinct at that particular moment. 
 She knew that De Boys had left The 
 Cloisters that morning and after a 
 somewhat mysterious fashion. Had 
 Sophia gone with him ? If she 
 had, she would surely repent before 
 she reached London. She had 
 been unusually erratic lately, and 
 Miss Bellarmine held her own pri-
 
 200 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 vate opinion with regard to Sophia's 
 state of health. It was extremely 
 interesting — no doubt, trying — but 
 not dangerous ; Lady Hyde-Bassett 
 had the same private opinion ; so, 
 too, had all the women of the 
 household — from the housekeeper 
 to the scullery-maid. But these, 
 not knowing of Miss Jenyns's 
 marriage, could only hope that the 
 Lord would forgive them if they 
 were mistaken — a pious wish which 
 they repeated many times a day, 
 together with their possibly wrong 
 surmise. 
 
 Eliza's fingers wandered to the 
 envelope. What folly might it 
 contain ? what mischief might it 
 cause, which neither repentance or 
 explanation could unsay or undo ? 
 What right had Sophia — in no 
 matter how interesting a condition 
 — to play such dangerous pranks on 
 a man like her husband ? Did she 
 deserve to be forgiven ? Eliza 
 heard Wrath's voice in the distance, 
 and without further hesitation she 
 slipped the envelope under the 
 clock. She would give the little 
 fool a chance. If she did not return 
 within two — three — at the most,
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 20I 
 
 four hours, Eliza knew that she 
 could easily find means of bringing 
 the note to light. And then she 
 left the room, smiling. Perhaps 
 she had been able to render Wrath 
 a small act of friendship, and, 
 although he himself could never 
 know of it, this would be a great 
 happiness for her to remember. 
 
 A few minutes later she peeped 
 in at the window. He had entered 
 the room and was looking at a 
 sketch of Sophia which hung on 
 the wall. Eliza stole away, feeling 
 like a conspirator.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 IN WHICH THE NEW EVE AND THE 
 NEWER ADAM GROW ABSENT-MINDED. 
 
 JE BOYS Stood waiting at 
 the cross - roads when 
 Sophia appeared in sight. 
 He hastened to meet her, 
 his countenance showing 
 the decent, temperate, and 
 subdued enthusiasm which befitted 
 the pioneer of a great philosophical 
 experiment. Sophia, most un- 
 reasonably, thought his manner 
 cold — not that she would have seen 
 him otherwise. The Ideal was 
 founded on ice — eternal, Arctic, 
 
 " We are fortunate in our day," 
 she said, in a quaking voice ; " it 
 is delightful walking. But I am 
 rather tired. Is there any place 
 where I can rest ? " 
 
 De Boys looked about him ; it
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 203 
 
 was obviously impossible that she 
 could rest on the ground, and on 
 either side of them were high 
 hedges. 
 
 " If you can manage to go on a 
 little further," he said, "we may 
 find a cottage — or something ! But 
 I am afraid we have not much time. 
 The train " 
 
 " But there are lots of trains," 
 said Sophia, wearily, " and there is 
 no hurry." 
 
 " Will you take my arm ? " said 
 De Boys. " We shall not meet any 
 one, and if we do " 
 
 She shrank back ; the only arm 
 she ever permitted herself to rest 
 on, was Wrath's. 
 
 " Oh, no ! " she said, " I hate 
 taking people's arms ! " 
 
 The young man coloured, and, in 
 an aggrieved tone, murmured an 
 apology. 
 
 " I do not wish to take a gloomy 
 view of things," she said, with a 
 certain severity, " nor do I want to 
 be disagreeable, but I hope we are 
 acting wisely. I hope we are not 
 doing wrong ! " 
 
 " I hope not," he said, with ap- 
 palling seriousness.
 
 204 A STUDY IN TEMPTAtlONS. 
 
 She shivered, although it was a 
 warm morning. 
 
 " Of course," he went on, " I 
 obeyed your instructions, because 
 a woman's tact is generally ac- 
 knowledged to be the best in such 
 matters. But I will not conceal 
 from you that I could wish it might 
 have been arranged a little more 
 openly : I mean, without giving it 
 this clandestine air which — which is 
 not altogether pleasant. It looks 
 too much like running away — and 
 running away is low ! Your note 
 was most characteristic : it reminded 
 me of our first meeting. Do you 
 remember it ? when you told me 
 that you only saw the honey- 
 suckle ! " 
 
 He glanced at her sideways and 
 thought she was not looking so 
 much like Jane as usual. But she 
 was still lovely — he could forgive 
 her a great deal. Such is the mag- 
 nanimity of the wise gander in his 
 judgment of the endearing, if in- 
 consequential, goose. 
 
 " Do not think," he said, " that I 
 fail to appreciate your courage. 
 You are only too dauntless ! You 
 do not see the dangers which would
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 205 
 
 appal a — a more ordinary mortal. 
 Oddly enough, after you had left 
 the drawing-room last night Wrath 
 said he had hoped to paint you as 
 Alcestis — the ideal, courageous 
 woman, you know, who died in her 
 husband's stead." 
 
 "Oh!" said Sophia, faintly, 
 " what— what else did he say ? " 
 
 " He did not say anything else," 
 said Mauden. 
 
 " How did he look when he said 
 it?" 
 
 " He was looking at your photo- 
 graph," said De Boys. His thoughts 
 had wandered to the time when he 
 had last walked on a country road 
 at that hour in the morning. Jane 
 had been with him then. How 
 long ago it seemed ! Did it seem 
 so long to Jane ? Was she, like all 
 women, fickle ? Had she forgotten 
 him, in the pomp and circumstance 
 of her new position ? He drew a 
 deep sigh. 
 
 "I mean," said Sophia, "was 
 Wrath looking happy, or tired, or 
 interested, or anything ? " 
 
 "I think he was rather sleepy," 
 said De Boys, "or at least I was. 
 . . . Did I ever tell you how much
 
 206 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 you remind me of a Miss Shannon ? 
 She is Lady Jane Shannon now. 
 But at one time I knew her very 
 well." 
 
 "Really?" said Sophia. "You 
 must tell me about her. ... I sup- 
 pose it would be considered a com- 
 pliment to — to be asked to sit for 
 Alcestis ? " 
 
 " Undoubtedly," said De Boys — 
 "undoubtedly. . . . Yes, as I was 
 saying, you bear the most extra- 
 ordinary resemblance to Jane. But 
 while your hair is black, hers is a 
 kind of russet gold " 
 
 " Russet gold ? How lovely ! 
 and so fashionable. . . . What did 
 Margaret say when Wrath said he 
 intended to paint me ? " 
 
 " I don't think she said anything. 
 ... I wish you could know Ja — 
 Lady Jane. She has so much 
 originality. I am sure you would 
 become great friends." 
 
 " Ye — es. ... I suppose Margaret 
 looked as though he ought to have 
 asked her to be Alcestis f " 
 
 But De Boys did not hear : he 
 was wondering whether Jane and 
 Sophia really could become great 
 friends. Would Jane quite grasp
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 207 
 
 the Before-the-Fall Ideal ? Would 
 there be any difficulty in explain- 
 
 ing- 
 
 "Of course," said Sophia, sud- 
 denly, "women must feel flattered 
 when Wrath wants to paint them. 
 To begin with, he is a very hand- 
 
 some man." 
 
 " Very handsome indeed ! " sighed 
 Mauden. He was thinking of Jane. 
 
 "He gives one such an idea of 
 power," said Sophia ; " the moment 
 you see him you feel ' Here is some 
 one to trust.' " 
 
 "Jane is the sort of girl, you 
 know," said De Boys, "that — that 
 you meet once and never forget. 
 It is not merely because she is 
 beautiful. Her beauty — which is 
 very great — is her least charm." 
 
 " Indeed ! I can well believe it. 
 It is only within the last two years 
 that I have realised how very hand- 
 some Wrath is. Is it not absurd ? 
 when I have been with him ever 
 since I was born ! But if you — care 
 — for people, and, of course, I — care 
 for him " 
 
 "Naturally," said Mauden; "and 
 it is very singular, but if you love 
 people, you don't know what you
 
 208 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 iove them for until you lose them. 
 
 And then " 
 
 *' Don't say until you lose them," 
 faltered Sophia, " that sounds so — 
 so awful ! " 
 
 " It does, doesn't it ? " said Mau- 
 den ; " the sense of loss, of being, 
 as it were, eternally separated, is 
 very terrible. And death is not 
 the only veil : sometimes our own 
 folly . . . and when we have only 
 our own folly to blame it — it is so 
 hopeless and so much harder to 
 
 bear than " Where was his 
 
 fluency ? his command of language ? 
 Could it be that as thoughts be- 
 came real, words grew meaning- 
 less? 
 
 " We— that is Jane and I — grew 
 up together," he went on ; " we are 
 not related, but it always seemed as 
 though we were. I don't mean to 
 say that we were like brother and 
 
 sister, but " 
 
 "I understand," said Sophia, 
 eagerly, " it is the same with Wrath 
 and myself. It is true that I have 
 never regarded him as my father, 
 but, as you say, a sort of relation- 
 ship " 
 
 " Have you left him any word —
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 209 
 
 any explanation ? " said De Boys, in 
 a low voice. 
 
 "I wrote him a letter," said 
 Sophia. " Not exactly the sort of 
 letter one would write to a guardian, 
 you know, but nicer ! Do you think 
 he will consider me ungrateful not 
 to have " 
 
 "lamafraid he may," said Mauden. 
 
 " I cannot tell you how generous 
 he has always been," she said. " I 
 would not like him to think me un- 
 grateful. . . . Mr. Mauden." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "If you don't mind," she said, 
 weakly, " I think I won't go to 
 London to-day." 
 
 The young man tried not to look 
 indecently thankful. 
 
 " But," he said, " you cannot go 
 back alone. And your letter ? " 
 
 " Luckily," she answered, " I did 
 not mention your name in the 
 letter. I can explain all that. He 
 won't be angry with me." She 
 burst into tears. "He has never 
 been angry with me in his life ! I 
 wish now he had given me one or 
 two good shakes. I am so wicked ! 
 He has brought me up very badly 
 — everybody says it ! " 
 
 14
 
 2IO A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 " Don't cry," said Mauden. 
 
 " I can't help it, . . . And I feel 
 so ill. I haven't had any breakfast. 
 I am not fit to be alone. My father 
 was just the same : he killed him- 
 self; he never would think things 
 over, and I am just like him ; 
 Wrath has always said so." 
 
 Mauden did not feel in a mood to 
 gainsay Wrath's opinion. In fact, 
 his reverence and admiration for 
 Wrath's saintliness and long-suffer- 
 ing were increasing every moment. 
 
 " Suppose," he said, " we both go 
 back to him and make a clean 
 breast of it ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ! " said Sophia, " you 
 mustn't come. I would not have 
 Margaret know a word about it for 
 the world." 
 
 " I must see you safely within the 
 gates, at all events," said Mauden, 
 with firmness. She had already 
 turned and was walking at a rapid 
 pace. Her fatigue was no longer 
 apparent. 
 
 " You are not to come with me,'' 
 she said, with her eyes fixed in the 
 direction of The Cloisters. 
 
 " Pardon me," said De Boys, 
 *' but I must."
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 21 1 
 
 " I insist," said Miss Jenyns, " on 
 returning alone. I will not be made 
 ridiculous ! " 
 
 He halted, took off his hat, and 
 waited until she had advanced some 
 yards in front of him. At this dis- 
 creet distance, he followed. 
 
 " I will write to you," she called 
 over her shoulder ; " but I have 
 made a great mistake. I shall be 
 extremely ill after this ! " 
 
 He bowed again, but still followed. 
 
 " Do you wish," she said, at last, 
 " to compromise me ? " 
 
 " I cannot leave you unprotected," 
 said Mauden, getting pale. He, 
 too, had a temper. 
 
 " I came here alone, and I pre- 
 sume I can return alone. Please 
 do not make me angry." 
 
 Matters were at this unhappy 
 stage when they heard the rumble 
 of wheels. Presently a grocer's cart 
 appeared at the far end of the road. 
 
 " I will ask this man to drive me 
 back," said Sophia. Then she gave 
 Mauden a fiery glance. " We shall 
 be the talk of the county ! " 
 
 "Possibly, too, of London," he 
 observed. 
 
 *' You should not have exposed
 
 212 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 me to this," she went on ; " it was 
 unkind. Consumption is in my 
 family, and it is well known that 
 consumptives are not responsible 
 for their conduct ! " She hailed 
 the grocer with a royal gesture. 
 
 " I have walked too far," she said, 
 when he stopped, " will you kindly 
 take me to The Cloisters ? " 
 
 When she found herself actually 
 seated in the cart, her customary 
 good-humour returned. She lifted 
 her veil and flung an artless smile 
 to heaven. 
 
 " How my husband will laugh 
 when I tell him ! " she said. 
 
 Even months afterwards, Mau- 
 den was unable to explain her 
 motive in making this astounding 
 remark at that particular moment. 
 When, however, in later years he 
 confided the whole episode — to- 
 gether, of course, with every other 
 episode of his bachelor career — to 
 the wife of his bosom, (who, for the 
 present, shall be nameless), she ex- 
 plained it without an instant's hesi- 
 tation. 
 
 " She referred to her husband," 
 said the lady, "entirely for the
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 213 
 
 benefit of the grocer's man ! She 
 was not even thinking oi you I " 
 
 At which he could only look in- 
 credulous. But he was neverthe- 
 less impressed by the truth of her 
 assertion.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 IN WHICH A FARCE IS PLAYED VERY 
 SERIOUSLY. 
 
 REAKFAST was always 
 
 (^ Sm))& s^^^'^^ punctually at nine 
 ^ S^ o'clock at The Cloisters. 
 ^^"^ As the clock chimed the 
 hour, Lady Hyde-Bassett 
 would descend the stairs, 
 and woe to the guest who was not 
 there to observe her freshness and 
 vivacity. On this one point, she 
 was as unreasonably severe as all 
 malleable men and women are, who 
 make up their minds to be un- 
 yielding on, at least, one subject. 
 When she entered the breakfast- 
 room, therefore, on that eventful 
 Monday morning, and saw no 
 Sophia Jenyns, her eyebrows 
 began to twitch. Wrath was 
 reading the Trmes^ and Miss 
 
 314
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 215 
 
 Bellarmine was studying a new 
 novel, which dealt with the evolu- 
 tion of the soul from protoplasm 
 to immortality — a work to be 
 attacked when the mind was not 
 predisposed to slumber. 
 
 " Where is Sophia ? " said 
 Margaret, having wished them 
 both good morning. 
 
 "To be sure," said Wrath. 
 "Where is she?" 
 
 "I think," said EHza, slowly, 
 " she has gone for a short walk." 
 
 " At this hour," said Margaret, 
 " and without her breakfast ? " 
 
 " Are you quite sure ? " said 
 Wrath. 
 
 "I believe," murmured Eliza, 
 " she said last night that she in- 
 tended to try an early prowl. Did 
 you not hear her say so ? " 
 
 It was very extraordinary, but 
 neither of them had heard Sophia 
 make the remark. 
 
 " But young Mauden " began 
 
 Lady Hyde-Bassett. 
 
 She caught a beseeching glance 
 from Eliza, and felt a sharp step on 
 her toe. They were now sitting at 
 the table. 
 
 " Young Mauden," she went on,
 
 2l6 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 calmly, "was very wise to go by 
 that eight o'clock train." 
 
 " I wish," said Wrath, suddenly, 
 " Sophia would not wander about 
 the country like a Tom o' Bedlam. 
 I know she is studying Ophelia, 
 but all the same, it is most an- 
 noying ! " 
 
 The two women dared not look 
 up. But they were holding a con- 
 versation without words, which is 
 not a difficult feat — although few 
 mortals seem aware of it — when 
 minds are sympathetic, and ordi- 
 nary means of communication are 
 impossible. To explain this mental 
 phenomenon, however, is work for 
 the metaphysician. We can only 
 say that Lady Hyde-Bassett under- 
 stood Miss Bellarmine so perfectly, 
 that she lost her appetite for break- 
 fast. 
 
 " Could not some one be sent 
 to her room to inquire ? " said 
 Wrath, rising from his seat, and 
 oblivious alike of manners, his two 
 companions, and general facts. 
 Thought was swallowed up in 
 sensation, and he recognised the 
 sensation as fear. 
 
 " I will go," said Eliza.
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 21 7 
 
 " Thank you," he said ; " you arc 
 very good. Thank you." 
 
 When she had gone out of the 
 room, he turned to Lady Hyde- 
 Bassett. " Margaret," he said, " do 
 you think I have been bhnd this last 
 fortnight ? Do you think I have 
 seen nothing ? " 
 
 " Seen — nothing ? " she repeated ; 
 "how?— what?" 
 
 "Do not act," he said; "be a 
 woman — be honest. You have seen 
 all that I have seen — perhaps more." 
 
 " No ! no ! not more ... it was 
 all very innocent ... a childish 
 flirtation. ... I thought it best 
 to ignore it. ... I would not allow 
 myself to give it consideration." 
 
 "Ah ! that is what I thought. 
 . . . The question is — Was I 
 wrong ? Should I have spoken ? " 
 
 " No, no. You were right to 
 trust her. The dreadful things we 
 are both fearing are an insult — an 
 injustice. Mauden is the soul of 
 honour. Sophia is light-hearted, 
 but — trust her. Only trust her ! " 
 
 "I do . . . but . . where is 
 she now ? " 
 
 " Do not ask me ! Do not ask 
 yourself ! "
 
 2l8 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 *' Is she with Mauden ? " 
 
 " No ! no ! no ! how can you say 
 it ? " 
 
 " Why not ask me how I can 
 say it — and Hve ? " 
 
 She took his hand. " Tom," she 
 said, " I would swear that she was 
 innocent even if she told me with 
 her own lips " 
 
 " Innocent ! " he said, angrily. 
 " Am I so vile already ? I want no 
 man or woman to assure me of my 
 wife's innocence. You know," he 
 went on, after a painful pause, " I 
 am naturally jealous. I — I try to 
 conquer this. ... I am so many 
 years older than she is, and she is 
 so . . . there is every reason why 
 I must love her, and there are none 
 why she should care for me ... it 
 would be absurd to expect her to sit 
 gazing at me all day — me, bald, 
 dull, plodding. . . . Mauden is her 
 own age, and amusing. ... It was 
 a crime to marry her : she was a 
 child. She knew nothing about 
 love. She has no idea how much 
 she is to me. I could not tell her, 
 it would frighten her . . . the re- 
 sponsibility " 
 
 " Ah ! " said Lady Hyde-Bassett,
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 2I9 
 
 " why did you not speak out and risk 
 the frightening ? " 
 
 " I was selfish," he went on, not 
 hearing, " and thought only of my 
 own happiness. And 1 persuaded 
 
 her Don't you understand how 
 
 I must hate myself ? Innocent ! 
 She is only too innocent. It is 
 I who am guilty ! " 
 
 "I wish," said Lady Hyde- 
 Bassett — " I wish Eliza would make 
 haste." 
 
 " She will not come back," said 
 Wrath, " because she has found the 
 room empty, and because she, too, 
 thinks " 
 
 Then he left her. And Margaret 
 could only sit with her hands 
 clasped, trying her best not to 
 think. For thinking was not to 
 be trusted at that moment. Faith 
 — "the substance of things hoped 
 for, the evidence of things not 
 seen " — was her only refuge. For 
 there is no virtue so sublime that it 
 cannot be used with advantage even 
 in a comedy situation. 
 
 When the grocer stopped his 
 horse at the main entrance to The 
 Cloisters, Sophia got down, gave
 
 220 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 the man a tip, and lurked under 
 a tree until he had driven out of 
 sight. Then she went out into the 
 road again, and walked to a certain 
 side-door which was cut in the wall 
 of the kitchen-garden, and which 
 was rarely used except by the 
 servants and the men employed 
 on the estate. She opened this 
 door and found herself face to face 
 with the head-gardener. 
 
 "How unlucky ! " she exclaimed. 
 " I had just come in to steal some 
 strawberries. Please don't give me 
 any of them, because that would 
 not be the same thing ! " And, 
 laughing gaily, she sauntered up 
 the path. The gardener stroked 
 his beard and stared after her. 
 Had not his wife kept him awake 
 the whole of the preceding night, 
 with her " firm beliefs " and " dying 
 breaths " on the subject of Miss 
 Sophia Jenyns ? And now she was 
 hankering after strawberries. He 
 whistled. 
 
 Sophia, meanwhile, went on her 
 way, rejoicing that she had been 
 able to make such a plausible 
 excuse for entering the grounds 
 by a back-door. She hugged the
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 22 1 
 
 elusive hope that Wrath had not 
 yet seen her nonsensical letter, and 
 she was now wondering how she 
 could get round to the studio, 
 where, perhaps, if the Fates were 
 kind, she would find the envelope 
 with its seal unbroken. She glanced 
 at the big clock which smiled from 
 the archway of the stable-yard : it 
 was exactly nine. They would all 
 be at the breakfast-table : she could 
 cross the lawn without the smallest 
 risk of meeting either Wrath, or 
 Margaret, or Eliza Bellarmine. 
 Sophia caught up her skirt and 
 ran. Once started, she did not 
 seem able to stop ; she had only 
 a frantic notion that she was 
 chasing her own head. The chase 
 ended, however, when she reached 
 the studio window. Her limbs 
 grew heavy and her sight dim ; 
 she stumbled over the threshold, 
 and groped her way to the mantel- 
 piece. The letter was gone. She 
 tore off her veil and stared helplessly 
 about the room. Then something 
 made her look under the clock. It 
 was there, after all. She thrust the 
 hateful thing into her pocket, and 
 fell.
 
 222 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 Wrath found her senseless on the 
 floor when he entered the studio 
 a few moments later.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 IN WHICH A YOUNG GENTLEMAN 
 OWNS HIS UNWORTHINESS. 
 
 -^^HE Dowager Countess of 
 Warbeck was confined to 
 her bed for some days 
 after the unhappy dis- 
 agreement with her 
 grandson. Sir Claretie 
 Mull did not, however, find in her 
 symptoms any grave cause for alarm, 
 and he told the young Earl as much, 
 adding, that if he thought of leaving 
 England, there was no earthly reason 
 why he should not do so. His lord- 
 ship, therefore, wrote the Dowager 
 an affectionate adieu, expressing his 
 regret that she would not see him, 
 and assuring her of his unalterable 
 love. With kindest regards to his 
 cousin. Lady Jane, he remained 
 ever her devoted grandson. War- 
 beck. 
 
 333
 
 2 24 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 " Never mention his name in my 
 presence," said the Countess to Jane, 
 after she had read this ; " when he 
 repents of his impious conduct, I 
 will forgive him. But until then 
 my only course is to forget." 
 
 On the following Monday, she 
 was still weak, but able to lie on 
 the sofa. Jane was reading aloud 
 to her when a visitor was announced 
 in the person of "Mr. Mauden." 
 He had asked to see Lady Jane 
 Shannon. 
 
 "You cannot see him to-day," 
 said the Countess, sharply ; " it would 
 be most improper. Tell him to 
 come when I am strong enough to 
 receive visitors." 
 
 " I am afraid I must see him, 
 dear grandmama," said Jane, with 
 a fine blush, " whether it is proper 
 
 or not." 
 
 " What ? " said the Dowager. « A 
 little louder, my love. This attack 
 has affected my hearing." And her 
 blue eyes looked black. 
 
 " I said," repeated Jane, without 
 flinching, " I am afraid I must see 
 Mr. Mauden whether it is proper or 
 improper. He is a very old friend." 
 
 " Oh ! " said her ladyship—" oh !
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 225 
 
 I remember now who he is. The 
 farmer person who is going to be a 
 schoolmaster. See the good crea- 
 ture, by all means ! " 
 
 The Countess was always most 
 triumphant when she was most de- 
 feated. 
 
 As Jane ran downstairs to the 
 drawing-room she lost a little of her 
 colour, but when she opened the 
 door, and saw De Boys actually 
 standing on the hearthrug, she 
 grew quite white. He, on his part, 
 blushed as he came forward to meet 
 her. 
 
 She gave him her right hand and 
 he took the other. Thus he held 
 them both, nor did he seem anxious 
 to release either. 
 
 " Jane," he said, " why have 
 you got this beastly money ? and 
 why are you living at this awful 
 Queen's Gate ? and — why have you 
 forgotten me ? " 
 
 " I haven't ! " 
 
 "But you have. Here is your 
 last letter — all about the South 
 Kensington Museum and Greek 
 vases. I don't want to hear about 
 Greek vases ; I want to hear about 
 you. Dear, dear, dearest, why have 
 
 15
 
 226 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 you got SO cultured ? why do you 
 quote Browning ? why do you write 
 about ideals and all such tiresome 
 rubbish ? I would not give your 
 old letters about the guinea-pig for 
 the whole of Tennyson ! And you 
 have got your hair done differently. 
 Let me see whether I like it ? Yes, 
 T do. Are the sleeves meant to 
 look like a bishop's ? Jane, may I 
 kiss you ? " 
 
 " No," said Jane. 
 
 Perhaps he did not hear. At all 
 events, it made no difference. And, 
 indeed, she did not seem to think 
 that it would. His kisses were 
 becoming (from his own point of 
 view) agreeably indefinite when she 
 asked a question. This was the 
 question — 
 
 " Did you leave The Cloisters 
 very early this morning ? " 
 
 " Shall we sit over there by that 
 green dragon ? " he suggested, 
 gravely. 
 
 He chose a chair with its back to 
 the light. Jane sat opposite with 
 the sun shining in on her face. 
 This, he felt, was as it should be. 
 He did not like to see women afraid 
 of the sun.
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS, 227 
 
 " I left The Cloisters this morn- 
 ing," he said, "and I return to 
 Oxford this afternoon." 
 
 She checked a sigh ; she certainly 
 could not expect him to waste his 
 time with her. 
 
 "Do you like Lady Hyde-Bas- 
 set ? " she said, trying to look 
 cheerful. 
 
 " Very much," said De Boys ; 
 " she is charming. But she is 
 whim-ish, of course, like most 
 women." 
 
 " And that Miss Bellarmine you 
 mentioned in your last letter ? " 
 
 "She has a fine figure, but she 
 jaws too much. No one can get a 
 word in, when she takes up an 
 argument. I cannot bear these 
 blue-stockings, myself. Fielding's 
 Amelia is, in my mind, the highest 
 type of woman ! " 
 
 " You used to say she was in- 
 sipid." 
 
 " Ah, that was a schoolboy's ver- 
 dict." 
 
 " And what about that Miss 
 Sophia Jenyns you mentioned in 
 your first letter ? She must have 
 been the most interesting of them 
 all."
 
 2 28 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 " Yes, I think one would call her 
 interesting. In the beginning she 
 reminded me — in a very faint degree 
 — of you. But you have really no- 
 thing in common." 
 
 " I suppose she is very beautiful ? " 
 she sighed. " Grandmama says she 
 is the loveliest actress in Europe." 
 
 " She z's lovely — for an actress," 
 he said ; " there is a glamour about 
 her which some people might find 
 very attractive. . . . But I have 
 nothing to say against her. She is 
 rather uncertain in temper : not a 
 woman one could depend on. She 
 has no feeling. And what is a 
 woman — no matter how pretty she 
 may be — unless she has feeling ? 
 I would call Miss Jenyns an egoist ; 
 very fascinating, but for all that, an 
 egoist. And egoism is, I think, the 
 eighth deadly sin. It is the special 
 sin of this century. But, Jane, don't 
 let us talk of -Isms and -Ivities. 
 I am sick of them, dearest. One 
 heard of nothing else at The 
 Cloisters. An enervating atmo- 
 sphere ! If I had been there 
 another week I should have lost all 
 ambition. I feel as though I had 
 stepped from a window conserva-
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 229 
 
 tory into the fresh woods. In God's 
 name, let us be natural ; let us drop 
 jargon ; let us only remember that 
 we love each other — for nothing else 
 matters." 
 
 " Are you sure you won't get tired 
 of me ? I am not clever and intel- 
 lectual. I understand you, dear, 
 but I cannot answer properly. It — 
 it is horrid to feel so ignorant when 
 you find yourself talking to — to 
 some one who is accustomed to meet 
 geniuses, and men — and women — 
 who can say something about every 
 thing, and just in the right way. 
 Now I suppose if I tried I could say 
 something, too, but it wouldn't 
 sound a bit like the conversation in 
 novels. I always think in such 
 short words ! " 
 
 " The perfection of literary style 
 — or of conversational style — is to 
 be simple," said De Boys — " sim- 
 plicity is delicious, and lamentably 
 rare. I should hate a wife who 
 could turn me into an epigram." 
 
 " A wife ! " she murmured. 
 
 " Dearest, you are the only 
 woman in my world. The rest are 
 your reflection ; when I see any 
 beauty or charm in a woman it
 
 230 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 is because she reminds me of 
 you." 
 
 Jane blushed. "I think I can 
 understand that," she said, "be- 
 cause, after you had left Brentmore, 
 I used to talk to Henry Burkett — 
 the one who sings in the choir — and 
 — and sometimes I used to forget, 
 and think he was you. But I soon 
 found the difference. You are not 
 angry with me ? " 
 
 " Burkett is such a smug ! " 
 
 " But I missed you so terribly ! 
 And I never looked at him when I 
 could help it. When I did look I 
 used to half-close my eyes. That 
 made him more indistinct." 
 
 " Still, I do not care to think that 
 you have flirted with men. If any 
 one else had told me " 
 
 " It wasn't flirting, De Boys. We 
 only talked about books, and poetry, 
 and religion, and things like that. 
 I hope you don't think " 
 
 "I am quite sure, dearest, that 
 your intentions in the matter were 
 beyond reproach. At the same 
 time, religion is rather an intimate 
 subject ; I mean, it covers every- 
 thing or anything. If you begin 
 a conversation on rehgion there is
 
 A STUDY IN TEMfTAtlONS. 2^1 
 
 no saying how it will end. It would 
 entirely depend on the view you 
 happened to take. For this reason, 
 it is not a subject for a young girl to 
 discuss with strange men ; nor, in 
 fact, with any man except her hus- 
 band — or some clergyman of whom 
 he approved." 
 
 "A girl must say something," 
 said Jane, whose meekness had its 
 limit ; " what did Miss Jenyns talk 
 about ? She is only two years older 
 than I am." 
 
 *' Miss Jenyns," said Mauden, " is 
 a woman of the world. Some day 
 I will tell you more about her. 
 But now I want to hear about 
 you. I must leave in half an 
 hour." 
 
 " So soon ? " said Jane. " I wish 
 you had told me you were coming. 
 I should have had so much happi- 
 ness watching for you." 
 
 " I — I came here on impulse, my 
 dearest. I — I — did not know myself 
 that I was coming to see you when 
 I left The Cloisters this morning. 
 But when I reached London, I 
 found I could not leave it until I 
 had " He stopped short, strug- 
 gled with his conscience, and then
 
 2 7.2 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 blurted out — " Jane, I want you 
 to forgive me for something." 
 
 " Forgive you ? " she said, "what 
 have you done ?" and she kissed his 
 hand. 
 
 " I am the meanest beast that 
 walks," said her hero, blushing to 
 his finger-tips — " I am, indeed. I do 
 
 not deserve " She smiled into 
 
 his face with angelic disbelief. " I 
 do not deserve you," he said, " and 
 I have always known it." He 
 sighed — ** I am afraid we cannot 
 marry for a year or two ? " 
 
 " Not for ages ! " 
 
 " And then, there is your 
 money ! " 
 
 " I can give most of it to the 
 poor relations. It will soon go that 
 way. They want ever so many 
 more things than I do ! But you 
 will be rich, too, when you are a 
 Professor and write learned books. 
 Or, if you are not exactly rich, you 
 will be famous — which is much 
 better." 
 
 "You have always believed in 
 me. But if I fail " 
 
 " You would never fail ; you 
 might be unfortunate. But then I 
 could only love you more than ever."
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 233 
 
 " Write to me every day, dearest, 
 and tell me that." 
 
 " How much do you love me ? " 
 •'I don't know," he said, solemnly ; 
 " and that has been the cause of all 
 my trouble." 
 
 " What trouble ? " 
 " The trouble I want you to for- 
 give." 
 
 She put her arms round his neck. 
 " Didn't you say," she said, " that 
 nothing mattered so long as we 
 loved each other ? " 
 
 " It would never have happened," 
 he stammered, "if she had not 
 looked so much like you." 
 
 " I know all about it," she said ; 
 " don't tell me any more — unless you 
 like." 
 
 " But — how do you know ? " 
 "I saw it in your face — when I 
 came in." 
 
 "I shall never understand 
 women ! " exclaimed De Boys. 
 
 " I suppose," she said, " we arc 
 rather difficult." 
 
 "I never told her," he mur- 
 mured, " that I loved her. It — ■ 
 it was only sympathy. . . . And, 
 Jane — never write me cold letters 
 again."
 
 234 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 *' Do you think I could — after 
 this ? " said his affianced. 
 
 And so, I think, we may leave 
 them.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 IN WHICH SOPHIA WAKES UP. 
 
 ►ANY hours of pain and 
 several weeks of danger- 
 hK ous illness were the re- 
 ) d suit of Sophia's bite at 
 the Ideal — a result which 
 must not surprise us, 
 since the psychological mystery she 
 tasted is, as all pious souls know, 
 the modern development of the 
 antediluvian apple. But Sophia 
 was young and had much to live 
 for — much, too, to atone for. Tears 
 had washed the dust from her eyes 
 as only tears can, and, as she wept 
 over her own folly, she knew that 
 she was really crying for the first 
 time in her life. Crystal drops shed 
 over our own excellence are nothinsr 
 
 O 
 
 in the world. They may, however, 
 have their use in the city that is 
 paved with good intentions. 
 
 235
 
 236 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 Wrath watched day and night 
 by the bedside of his wife. Their 
 relationship was no longer concealed, 
 for Nature, who hates false appear- 
 ances, and is, in fact, a very blab to 
 those who have ears to hear, had 
 made straightforwardness necessary. 
 And Wrath, in spite of his anxiety, 
 was happier than he had been, even 
 at his happiest moments, since the 
 day of the secret marriage. He 
 held his breath at the shortness of 
 time before him in which to re- 
 trieve the two past years of dis- 
 simulation, of double - facedness. 
 As all penitents, he longed to be 
 born again, that he might wage a 
 new life with the arts of an old 
 experience. He blamed himself less 
 for keeping his promise to Sophia 
 than for making it. The weakness, 
 the moral cowardice of the matter 
 lay, in his judgment, in the submit- 
 ting to such a condition. It brought 
 him no ease of mind to remember 
 that the lunatic, the lover, and the 
 poet were admitted by a charitable 
 world to be more or less irrespon- 
 sible for their follies. With all his 
 faults he was not a man to lie plea- 
 santly to his own conscience. He
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS, 237 
 
 had acted wrongly, and he knew it ; 
 what was more, he had been per- 
 fectly aware that he was acting 
 wrongly when he gave the miser- 
 able promise. He had made up his 
 mind to marry Sophia, and he had 
 not been willing to run any risk of 
 losing her. There was no condition 
 so unwise, so ill-considered, or so 
 desperate but he would have ac- 
 cepted it, rather than forfeit even 
 one of her smiles. Such was the 
 truth. (If a man cannot be a hero 
 to his hired valet, we must not 
 wonder if he looks small in the / 
 presence of his free conscience.) 
 Fear, for the enormities he might 
 have committed, was the other side 
 of his remorse for the wrong, he 
 had actually done. It was an 
 awkward subject viewed from any 
 point of consideration. But awk- 
 ward as it was, it was even grateful 
 in comparison with another matter, 
 which haunted him constantly, and 
 which seemed past forgiveness or 
 hope. This matter was his con- 
 versation with Lady Hyde-Bassett 
 on that never-to-be-forgotten Mon- 
 day morning. It was contemptible 
 enough, God knew, to have sus-
 
 238 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 pected his saintly wife of having 
 eloped with Mauden ; but to have 
 expressed the despicable thought in 
 words, to have allowed the curbed 
 jealousy of a lifetime to break away 
 from all bounds just when control 
 was most necessary — what could 
 he call himself? To think of all 
 this in the long hours of the night, 
 when Sophia was lying half-uncon- 
 scious, or in pain, was a terrible 
 punishment for his injustice, but he 
 would not own that it was terrible 
 enough. 
 
 One afternoon Sophia woke up 
 from a sleep and found Wrath 
 watching her. It was a daily ex- 
 perience, but on that particular 
 afternoon she seemed to see him 
 more distinctly than usual. He 
 was looking old and careworn, and 
 was so changed, that she found her- 
 self wondering whether she had not 
 lost all idea of time, and whether 
 her illness had lasted — not a few 
 weeks as she imagined — but many 
 years. She asked Wrath for a 
 hand-glass, — she thought her hair 
 must be grey. 
 
 He gave it to her in silence. She
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 239 
 
 looked from the mirror to her hus- 
 band, and from her husband to the 
 mirror. Her face had not suffered 
 so much from illness as his, from 
 anxiety. She was pale in the 
 cheeks, and a little dark round 
 the eyes, but otherwise she seemed 
 even younger for her suffering. 
 She might have been a girl in 
 her first teens. 
 
 " Tom," she said, " are you very 
 tired ? " 
 
 " Tired ? Oh, no." 
 
 " Then talk to me. Tell me what 
 you are thinking about." 
 
 " T am thinking of you," he said, 
 quietly. 
 
 " Don't think about me — I am 
 horrid." 
 
 This was quite in her old manner, 
 and for a moment he smiled. It was 
 a long-established custom between 
 them, that she should call herself 
 names, while he expressed his horror 
 at the blasphemy. It was the usual 
 prelude to most of their conversa- 
 tions. 
 
 " But I really mean it to-day," 
 she said. This guileless and un- 
 conscious admission of the usual 
 insincerity of her self-depreciation
 
 240 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 made them both laugh. It was 
 Sophia's saving grace that she could, 
 at times, survey herself from a dis- 
 tance. When she was not the first, 
 she would at least be the second, to 
 mock at her own extravagancies. 
 But it may be that she carried this 
 self-ridicule to excess, and saw her 
 actions in a ludicrous light when 
 they were rather sad than funny. 
 Thus she had gradually lost all 
 belief in her own earnestness. 
 Sometimes it seemed that her love 
 for Wrath was a jest, that life and 
 death were alike jests, that the 
 world itself was the Creator's big 
 joke with mankind. Everything 
 was so grotesque, so badly rehearsed, 
 the curtain went up too soon and 
 came down too late ; parts were 
 mumbled, or shouted, or gabbled, or 
 left unspoken ; cues were disre- 
 garded ; heroes were knock-kneed, 
 and heroines had thick ankles ; 
 fools made mirth with such a 
 solemn air, and the wise were 
 solemn so foolishly ; men and women 
 seemed not themselves, but fheir 
 caricatures ; it was all wildly comic, 
 farcical, unnatural, and inartistic. 
 The only sad part was, that one
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS, 24 1 
 
 ached from laughing till one cried 
 at the pain. But this, too, was a 
 joke. 
 
 There was something inhuman, 
 almost cruel, in Sophia's humour 
 which made Wrath unhappy— all 
 but fearful. Men, moreover, do not 
 like their wives to have too clear a 
 perception of the ludicrous — it is 
 a masculine theory that laughter 
 must be on the male side only. A 
 man knows when laughter is a 
 spoil-sport : he can postpone it 
 when necessary. But a woman will 
 laugh — if she know how — at the 
 right moment or the wrong, usually, 
 too, when a man would prefer to 
 see her demure. 
 
 Although Wrath joined in his 
 wife's merriment on this particular 
 afternoon, it did not seem to him 
 that the occasion was especially 
 amusing. 
 
 " Things are still ridiculous," she 
 said, suddenly, "but they are not 
 ridiculous in quite the same way as 
 they used to be. When I laugh 
 now, I do not feel so much like crying. 
 I know that what looks so absurd 
 at present, will one day be very 
 grand and beautiful. Some kinds 
 16
 
 242 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 of knowledge you cannot study — 
 you find them when you are looking 
 for something else. I have learnt 
 all this by accident. I cannot tell 
 you how. But I have learnt it so 
 well that I can never forget it. . . . 
 I shall never again be so foolish — so 
 obstinate as I was. You will see 
 such a difference in me ! And, Tom 
 — I want to tell you about my walk 
 — that morning." 
 
 " No, no ! " he said ; " let me tell 
 you something first. Will you ever 
 forgive me ? I — I thought you were 
 with Mauden ! " 
 
 The clock had never ticked so 
 loudly : Sophia could hear nothing 
 else. Or was it her own heart ? 
 
 *' I thought you were with Mau- 
 den," he repeated. " I thought you 
 had gone to London with him. I — 
 I was brutally jealous " 
 
 "Tom!" 
 
 '■' I knew it was infamous. Do 
 you think I will ever forgive my 
 self?" 
 
 "But, Tom " What would 
 
 he say if he knew the whole truth ? 
 She could atone for her folly none 
 the less because he knew nothing 
 about it. Besides, he would lose all
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 243 
 
 respect for her if she told him. He 
 would despise her : perhaps his love 
 would change to dislike. Men, even 
 the best, were not so forgiving as 
 women. 
 
 " Tom," she said, desperately, 
 " you — you were quite right. I was 
 with Mauden — I was going to Lon- 
 don with him, but — but I changed 
 my mind ! It was all a mistake. I 
 thought — you were tired of me ! " 
 
 She trembled for his answer. He 
 had grown so pale ; he looked so 
 stern. 
 
 " You were going to London with 
 Mauden ? " he said. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Why did you change your 
 mind ? " 
 
 " Because — I remembered ^ow." 
 
 " You remembered me ! That 
 was thoughtful." He drew his hand 
 across his brow and bowed his head. 
 We have surely never such need to ^ 
 show humiliation as when we are in 
 the presence of a fallen idol. 
 
 It is not the god, which was no 
 god, that suffers, but its former j 
 worshipper, who sees what appeared \^ 
 divinity, corruption, and what looked 
 strength, rottenness. And, in at
 
 244 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 least some slight degree, this terrible 
 contemplation must be made by all 
 mortals who place their entire faith 
 in mere flesh-and-blood : who love 
 the creature, which has beauty that 
 we may desire it, more than the 
 Creator whom no man hath at any 
 time seen. One who wrote of 
 human affection with a tenderness 
 and understanding past comparison 
 — who knew its infinite power and 
 no less infinite weakness — one who 
 has taught that by loving man we 
 best learn how to love his Maker, 
 has also warned us — " Keep your- 
 selves from idols." 
 
 Wrath, in his hour of disillusion, 
 had no words : the tragedy in com- 
 mon life lies in the thinking — not 
 in the speaking. 
 
 The sound at last reached him of 
 a woman, crying ; he looked, and 
 though he no longer beheld a 
 heavenly spirit, infallible and sin- 
 less, he saw his wife. 
 
 " You forget — the circumstances," 
 sobbed Sophia. "I was not well. 
 And think how ill I have been ! " 
 
 His frown vanished, but it left 
 its scir. "My dearest," he said, 
 gently, " whatever has happened.
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 245 
 
 I know it has all been my fault ! 
 My fault entirely ! I shall never 
 cease to reproach myself." 
 
 " Let me tell you all about it," 
 said Sophia ; and then between 
 laughter and tears she confessed the 
 whole story. " Poor young Mauden 
 is not to blame," she wound up, 
 "because he did not know I was 
 married ! " 
 
 " My fault entirely ! " repeated 
 Wrath. And what a relief it was 
 to shift all her burden on his own 
 shoulders ! He was the transgressor 
 — the brute beast with no under- 
 standing — she was still his angel of 
 light. 
 
 " You are so good to me," she 
 whimpered, " but I will never be so 
 wicked again." 
 
 " There shall be no more of 
 these detestable circumstances," he 
 said. 
 
 " I don't mind them so much, if I 
 know what they mean," said Sophia, 
 " and next time, of course, I shall 
 know ! Some day I want to have a 
 son, and I want him to be just like 
 you ! " 
 
 " It is impossible to look into the 
 future," said Wrath; "but if— by
 
 246 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 any chance — we had a son, I think 
 he would be rather remarkable." 
 
 " He would be a genius," said 
 Sophia. 
 
 "But he must have your face," 
 said Wrath. 
 
 " No," said Sophia, " if he is not 
 exactly like you, I shall be disap- 
 pointed." 
 
 " I think," said Wrath, " we must 
 make him a lawyer. He might be- 
 come Lord Chancellor." 
 
 " Or he might be a Cardinal. 
 Wouldn't that be nicer ? " 
 
 At which moment, Lady Hyde- 
 Bassett came in with some flowers 
 for the invalid. 
 
 *' Margaret," said Sophia, " if you 
 had a son, would you rather see him 
 a Cardinal or a Lord Chancellor ? 
 Because we were just saying " 
 
 Wrath strode away to the window. 
 And looking out, he saw a fair 
 world. How wrong it was to be 
 cynical ! As if there was no such 
 thing as earthly happiness. Away ! 
 away ! ye philosophers of the mud- 
 heap. The soul of man is a garden 
 where, as he sows, so he shall reap. 
 If ye would gather roses, do not sow 
 rotten seeds. Away ! away !
 
 EPILOGUE. 
 
 )HEN Lady Jane Shannon 
 attained her one-and- 
 twentieth year she mar- 
 ried the briUiant young 
 scholar De Boys Mauden 
 who, at present, is editing 
 Plato as he has never been edited 
 before, and never will be, again. As 
 this magnificent enterprise will oc- 
 cupy some nine hours of each day 
 for the next thirty years of his life, 
 we may safely assume that much 
 fame will accrue to his literary 
 executors. 
 
 The Earl of Warbeck astonished 
 society by becoming first a Roman 
 Catholic, and then a priest. This 
 did not kill his grandmother, as 
 many people feared it might, but 
 she lived many years to enjoy the 
 pleasure of writing wills in his favour, 
 and revoking them at the rate of 
 three a month. He also dined with 
 
 .847
 
 248 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 her frequently, because, as she told 
 her friends, she would never despair 
 of converting him back to Chris- 
 tianity and the usual number of 
 commandments. 
 
 Farmer Battle and Miss Caroline 
 Battle are still living, and rank next 
 in Jane's heart after De Boys and a 
 certain small edition of De Boys. 
 This young gentleman already holds 
 a decided opinion on the due sub- 
 jection of women to their lords : an 
 opinion which Jane has her own 
 method of refuting — a method so 
 subtle, however, that Mauden has 
 never yet been able to perceive it. 
 He is only conscious that his wife's 
 will looks so much like his own, that 
 he is never able to tell which is 
 which. He, at all events, gives the 
 word of command and she always 
 wears an air of the most charming 
 obedience. Why analyse such an 
 harmonious condition of things ? 
 
 Lady Hyde-Bassett lived long 
 enough to see her dear Eliza married 
 to Mr. Claverhouse Digges, the edi- 
 tor of the Argus. It was the last 
 match Margaret made, and, as she 
 declared, the most satisfactory. She 
 died very peacefully — if rather sud-
 
 A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS. 249 
 
 denly — and her last words were, that 
 she had never been so happy. It 
 was quite impossible to mourn over 
 one who showed such relief at leav- 
 ing this world, and who enjoyed such 
 a full and perfect assurance of the 
 next. Her great wealth was left as a 
 bequest to be used for the support of 
 such scholars, authors, and artists, 
 who professed to do good work for 
 nothing, than bad work for large 
 fees. The bequest is now managed 
 by a committee, and it has not been 
 of service to those for whom her 
 ladyship intended it. But her inten- 
 tions were good, and the starving 
 scholars, authors, and artists who see 
 the prosperous, incompetent, and 
 dishonest making off with their 
 treasure, have, let us hope, none the 
 less gratitude for Lady Hyde-Bas- 
 sett's benevolent design. 
 
 Wrath and Sophia have a small 
 daughter, and now they wonder why 
 they wanted a son. She is such an 
 amazing and unique creation. They 
 have named her " Margaret,'' after 
 one they both loved — but Wrath 
 especially. Had she not believed in 
 Sophia when even he himself had 
 doubted her ?
 
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 CHILWORTH AND LONDON.
 
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 Mr. TJnwin has pleasure 
 in announeing that he will 
 publish early in March, the 
 first volume of UjYWIX'S 
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 Tauchnitz Series. The stiff cover is possibly an improve 
 ment on the Tauchnitz paper." — Spectator. 
 
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 of get VL^)."— Birmingham Daily Post. 
 
 1. GLADYS FANE. By T. Wemyss Reid, 
 
 Author of " The Life of the Right Hon. 
 W. E. For star." [March. 
 
 2. MRS. KEITH'S CRIME. By Mrs. 
 
 W. K. Clifford, Author of "Aunt Anne." 
 
 [April:, 
 
 3. ISAAC ELLER'S MONEY. By Mrs?^ 
 
 Andrew Dean, Author of " A Splendid 
 Cousin." [May{ 
 
 4. CONCERNING OLIVER KNOX. By^i 
 
 G. CoLMORE, Author of "The Conspiracj^^ 
 of Silence." [June. 
 
 The illustrated cover is a special feature oC. 
 
 the Novel Series, the publisher having invited^ 
 prominent artists to contribute to each novelj 
 their ideal of the heroine of the story.
 
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 INDEPENDENT NOVEL SERIES. 
 
 Demy \2mo, cloth, 7,$. 6d, each. 
 
 THE 
 
 SHIFTING OF THE FIRE. 
 
 By FORD H. HUEFFER, 
 Author of " The Brown Owl," " The FeatJur" &'c. 
 
 A PHANTOM FROM THE 
 EAST. 
 
 By PIERRE LOTI 
 Translated by J. E. Gordon. 
 
 JEAN DE KERDREN 
 
 By PHILIPPE SAINT HILAIRE, 
 
 Author of " Colette,'' 
 
 Translated by Mrs. Waugh. 
 
 STORIES FROM GARSCHINE 
 
 Translated by Alice Voynich. 
 With Critical Introduction by Sergius Stepniak. 
 
 POOR LADY MASSEY. 
 
 By H. RUTHERFURD RUSSELL. 
 
 London : 
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 By H. A. Page, Author of " Golden Lives." 
 
 [Ninth Edition. 
 
 2. WISE WORDS AND LOVING 
 
 DEEDS: 
 
 A Book of Biographies for Girls. 
 
 By E. CoNDER Gray. [Seventh Edition. 
 
 3. MASTER MISSIONARIES: 
 
 Studies in Heroic Pioneer Work. 
 
 By A. H. Japp, LL.D. [Fourth Edition. 
 
 4. LABOUR AND VICTORY, 
 
 By A. H. Japp, LL.D. [Third Edition, 
 
 5. HEROIC ADVENTURE. 
 
 Chapters in Recent Explorations and Discovery. 
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 6. GREAT MINDS IN ART: 
 
 With a Chapter on ART AND ARTISTS. 
 By William Tikebuck. 
 
 Many Portraits. [Second Edition. 
 
 7. GOOD MEN AND TRUE, 
 
 By A. H. Japp, LL.D. [Second Edition. 
 
 8. THE LIVES OF ROBERT AND 
 
 MARY MOFFAT, 
 
 By their Son, John Smith Moffat. 
 
 [Ninin Edition. 
 
 9. FAMOUS MUSICAL COM- 
 
 POSERS. 
 
 By Lydia J. Morris. [Second Edition. 
 
 London 
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