A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
A LADY OF 
 
 BY 
 
 ETHEL SIDGWICK 
 
 AUTHOR OF "pROJnSE," "hEHSELF," "SUCCESSION," ETC. 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY 
 
 PUBLISHERS 
 
/v 
 
 q^ 'tUi? 
 
 COPTRIOHT, 1914 
 
 By Small, Maynard & Company 
 
 (incorfoeated) 
 
 Second Printing, October, 1914 
 
 J. Parkhiil & Co., Boston, U.S.A. 
 
-X53L3 
 
 TO MY MOTHER 
 
 THIS ROMANCE OF YOUTH 
 IS DEDICATED 
 
 •4 O /?. 
 
 ^Z'] 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 I. GLASSWELL 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I The Rectory 3 
 
 II The Family 17 
 
 III The Rector 29 
 
 IV Charles' Memories 37 
 
 V Among the Peas 50 
 
 VI Visitors at Glasswell 63 
 
 VII Tale of Achilles 79 
 
 VIII The Schemer 95 
 
 IX The Visit Concludes 107 
 
 IT. LENNOXES 
 
 I The Sticking-place 119 
 
 II Enter Miss Eccles 136 
 
 III The Tale of a Wink 155 
 
 IV Women and Forewomen 175 
 
 V A Discovery 186 
 
 VI Charles Retaliates 199 
 
 VII Friends 209 
 
 VIII A Marquis Becomes of Interest . . . 225 
 
 IX A Studio Incident 245 
 
 X Growing Pains 259 
 
 vii 
 
viii CONTENTS 
 
 III. FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I The Disentangler 275 
 
 II Love-in-idleness 290 
 
 III Notes 302 
 
 IV Exit Peacock 316 
 
 V Miss Ashwin is Lazy 329 
 
 VI Rout of the Schemers 340 
 
 VII Mrs. Nickelby 356 
 
 VIII Alice has Enough 369 
 
 IV. HOME AFFAIRS 
 
 I Return to the Capital 385 
 
 II A Tiger-lily 395 
 
 III The Birthday 407 
 
 IV Inaugurates Revolt 430 
 
 V Claude Fails Brilliantly 442 
 
 VI Conclusion 459 
 
PART I 
 GLASSWELL 
 
A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 THE RECTORY 
 
 Glasswell is thirty miles out of London, in what 
 the occupants of Glasswell Rectory called the 
 Dickens direction. Annotated for the ignorant, this 
 means that Glasswell is in Kent. Those sentimen- 
 talists, chiefly foreign and transatlantic, who still 
 delight to honour our greatest imaginative writer, 
 and divert themselves yearly by visiting his shrines, 
 nearly always discovered Glasswell sooner or later 
 in their wanderings, and frequently took a meal at 
 the Rectory; for it was an unusually open house to 
 strangers, with a " show " garden attached. Also 
 the Rector's first wife had been a Dickens-lover, and 
 he had imbibed a large measure of her tastes. 
 
 On a certain day of late spring or early summer — 
 the Rector's double-cherry blossoms were brown, if 
 that conveys any evidence upon the question — 
 Miss Lois Lennox plodded to the Rectory to call on 
 her old friend Mrs. Gibbs. This was the second Mrs. 
 Gibbs, a person of much less romantic proclivities 
 
4 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 than the younger one, who many years before had 
 spouted Pickwick to her husband in preference to 
 Scripture texts; and she was quite lately installed 
 as a bride in her new home. Miss Lennox came to 
 see her for two reasons: firstly, she was spending 
 a few days in the neighbourhood, and had a natural 
 curiosity to realise her friend's surroundings; and 
 secondly because Mrs. Gibbs had promised to be 
 useful to her in her new capacity, and was fulfilling 
 the obligation with great promptitude, according to 
 her wont. The note which Miss Lennox carried in 
 her bag may be offered complete to the world in 
 illustration. 
 
 " My dear Lois, 
 
 " Certainly come Friday towards tea-time, it 
 will suit. I will keep my husband in if possible, but 
 you know his ways. I think I have just the thing 
 for you, but I cannot be sure. My stepdaughter 
 Margery is visiting at her uncle Dr. Ashwin's house 
 in London, and she writes that the Ashwin girl is 
 looking for a job. Whether the sort of girl will suit 
 the sort of work of course I cannot say, having no 
 first-hand evidence. You had better hear Margery's 
 report when you come, and talk to Maud. They are 
 both thoroughly sensible girls. 
 
 " Your affectionate friend, 
 " Henrietta Gibbs." 
 
GLASSVVELL 5 
 
 The back of the sheet contained directions, 
 necessarily complicated, for reaching the house, 
 which was why Miss Lennox had retained it. The 
 recurrence of the word " girl " on the face of it was 
 pleasing to her sympathetic mind; for her old 
 friend had a gift for the management of girlhood, 
 and fate had only granted her, by her former 
 marriage, a single son. Now, with two step- 
 daughters, both of the interesting age and reported 
 pretty, it was evident her natural talents would be 
 well bestowed. 
 
 As for Miss Ashwin, the young relative referred to, 
 Miss Lennox was in doubt, for she had met the 
 name, and had certain mental connections with it 
 that were unpromising. She was inclined to doubt 
 everything, poor woman, that promised at all well 
 for her advantage: wherefore it was delightful to 
 depend, in whatever degree, on dear Henrietta's 
 advice again. Miss Lennox had been hardly used 
 by fate, and was visibly battered by the necessary 
 resistance. The partner who had been the inspira- 
 tion of her little dressmaking establishment at 
 Battersea had lately married and migrated to India. 
 Nobody but Miss Lennox thought the partner 
 herself much loss, but, even in Mrs. Gibbs' cool 
 judgment, her credit was, and her capital. Wanting 
 the partner and her purse, Miss Lennox felt lonely 
 and unstable; and looking about her, she dreamed 
 
6. . ; ; .. \A tADY of leisure 
 
 of a nice girl with money whom she could instruct. 
 Now, a niece of the Reverend Arthur Gibbs could 
 hardly be other than nice, and a daughter of Dr. 
 Claude Ashwin must necessarily be wealthy. It 
 seemed a heaven-sent opportunity, — and yet it 
 seemed to fall almost too aptly with Miss Lennox's 
 desires to be attainable. This was her state, a not 
 uncommon state of patient depression and humility, 
 when she arrived at the Rectory gates. 
 
 Not long after she had passed them, owing to the 
 atmosphere of unhampered ease in the pleasant 
 house, and the impression made by Henrietta's 
 cheerful looks and strong accustomed tones. Miss 
 Lennox began to feel more hopeful. Henrietta's 
 new circumstances, — most thoroughly deserved, 
 too, — seemed ideal, and Miss Lennox commonly 
 found her happiness, faule de mieux^ in that of others. 
 Having seen the house from top to bottom, and 
 rather involved herself in its indiscriminate praises, 
 she was conducted to the drawing-room, and intro- 
 duced to Miss Gibbs, the Maud of the letter, a 
 quiet-mannered, pretty-for-all-practical-purposes girl 
 of five-and-twenty, and re-introduced to Charles 
 Shovell, Henrietta's own son, who was reclining 
 languidly on the low window-seat of the long room. 
 Miss Lennox had not enquired much about this 
 young gentleman in latter years, having vaguely 
 gathered that he was " unsatisfactory," and being 
 
GLASSWELL 7 
 
 exquisitely timid, especially with Henrietta, of 
 trespassing on painful ground. It was rather com- 
 forting, on the whole, to find him looking very 
 personable and prosperous, installed with a number 
 of magazines among innumerable cushions, and 
 being evidently pampered extremely by his step- 
 sister Maud. 
 
 During the consumption of tea and strawberries, 
 — at which daily duty Mr. Shovell shone, — pas- 
 sages from Margery's letters concerning Miss Ashwin 
 and her projects were read aloud, and Miss Lennox's 
 tired spirits rose a little more, for Margery was 
 evidently a nice girl too, and the letters lively 
 reading. 
 
 " In my opinion," Mrs. Gibbs commented on the 
 reading to her friend, " if the child really wants 
 work, she couldn't be in better hands. I should 
 think her mother would be relieved." 
 
 " Oh, Mamma," expostulated Maud. " Aunt 
 Evie does not care a snap what Violet does. It's 
 Violet herself I w~\ thinking about, — and Margery 
 too " 
 
 " Personally " said Charles from the win- 
 dow-corner where he was being temporarily 
 neglected. 
 
 " Oh, we all know what Charlie thinks," Maud 
 intervened with a sisterly laugh. 
 
 " Personally," said Charles, his dreamy monotone 
 
8 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 a trifle more incisive, " I can answer for Miss 
 Ashwin's not being offended by the proposal." 
 
 " Offended'? " cried Maud. " She made it her- 
 self." And his mother said, " My good Charles I " 
 
 " She is not easily offended," said Charles, looking 
 over Miss Lennox's head, " or Margery and Maud 
 and their father and my mother, holding prayer- 
 meetings perpetually over her in the drawing-room, 
 would long since have been definitely resented. Her 
 own mother is more tactful " 
 
 " Aunt Evie tactful I " ejaculated Maud. 
 
 " More tactful," pursued the patient Charles, 
 " because knowing her daughter, and respecting her 
 impulses, even though she may not always under- 
 stand them, she holds off, and lets Miss Ashwin be 
 sole judge in the things that concern her solely." 
 
 Having concluded this peroration in triumph, he 
 resumed his tea, Maud laughed openly at him, and 
 Mrs. Gibbs herself joined in the laugh, though she 
 seemed vexed. 
 
 "You would really think," she addressed the 
 visitor, " wouldn't you, Lois, that Charles was a 
 close connection of these Ashwins, and Maud and 
 Margery had no claim to speak on the subject. 
 Whereas the contrary is the case. Charles has met 
 the girl three times " 
 
 " Twice," said Charles gravely. 
 
 "Twice, — the second time between trains, as I 
 
GLASSWELL 9 
 
 happen to remember. And he has never set eyes on 
 the mother at all." 
 
 " I did," said Charles. " I saw her hat." 
 
 " Which doubtless gives you the right to patronise 
 her parental methods." 
 
 Mrs. Gibbs spoke in a bracing manner to which 
 Charles was well used. He only drooped a trifle 
 more, and sought for a more happy theme out of the 
 neighbouring window. 
 
 " The new gardener," he announced, " is among 
 the peas, studying the governor's little wind-mills. 
 He has a remarkably fine profile, well-defined at this 
 moment against the western sky. If you will come 
 exactly here, Maud " 
 
 But nobody wanted to take up the diversion, as 
 it happened. The Ashwins were a most fascinating 
 subject, and Miss Lennox had been by many degrees 
 more interested in her old friend's new family, on 
 learning of the connection. 
 
 " But do tell me," she said, strenuously sym- 
 pathetic, to Maud, " Of course, one has heard of 
 Mrs. Ashwin, I had no idea she was a relation of 
 yours, Miss Gibbs." 
 
 " For our sins," said Maud, looking down, for she 
 was shy. " She is rather an overpowering personage, 
 you know. As you see, her hat was enough for 
 Charlie. My uncle has titled patients by the string, 
 
lo A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 but she crushes them all. She beats everybody in 
 London — except Violet." 
 
 " Is your cousin uncrushable then? " said Mrs. 
 Gibbs. 
 
 " Well, at least by worldly splendour. Aunt Evie 
 is acutely worldly; and that's where Violet scores. 
 Isn't it, Charlie, dear?" 
 
 She looked towards her stepbrother, who smiled 
 a mystic smile. Charles could do this capitally, 
 having adaptable features and far-sighted eyes. The 
 smile implied that he could have found far better 
 language in which to present Miss Ashwin's circum- 
 stances to a heartless world, if he had been allowed 
 by fate and his mother to attempt it. As it was, he 
 smiled at the view in conscious superiority, and 
 watched the distant gardener, an object of interest 
 to Charles, since he was new. Miss Lennox was 
 new, of course; but Charles hardly thought she 
 would repay much study. She was known to his 
 mother by her Christian name, refused cream with 
 her strawberries, and wore drabby, tender-coloured 
 clothes, the clothes of an aesthetic female of the last 
 generation: so Charles preferred to let her remain 
 an abstraction, not a fact. Now, the gardener was 
 a handsome fellow, and looked unusual. He 
 promised interesting combinations and possibilities 
 in the near future, not unfathomable to a young man 
 who, from various ambushes in the house and 
 
GLASSWELL 1 1 
 
 grounds, might have him in view during the whole 
 of the long vacation. 
 
 Life, it may just be mentioned to cheer the reader, 
 was sweet to Charles. He had for weeks past been 
 coming to the conclusion that his mother, whose 
 success in life had hitherto been clearer to her than 
 to himself, had fallen into a soft place at Glasswell 
 Rectory, and that holidays of unusual comfort 
 stretched before him. He was not at least to be 
 hurried away to frowzy hotels in foreign places for 
 the good of his accent; nor was he bracingly 
 encouraged to seek invitations to the houses of 
 profitable friends. Those devices were things of the 
 past. His mother, a recent bride, and a stranger 
 like himself, was happily inclined to keep quiet and 
 to let him be; and he could lie on deck-chairs, 
 compare abstractions with realities, and relish life, 
 according to his private taste. 
 
 Yet, as things turned out, he was unable to let 
 his family flounder for ever on the subject they had 
 chosen, without at least one more effort to put them 
 straight. Unfortunately for Mr. Shovell's dignity, 
 he always had the most irresistible impulse to talk 
 when he most longed to be aloof and superior. For 
 instance, when Miss Lennox observed too gaily that 
 she was getting quite curious about the girl, Charles 
 said, "You will remain so," — very definitely; and 
 the family, who had forgotten him, jumped. 
 
12 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 Maud, feeling the comment was rude, explained 
 it away. 
 
 " Charlie thinks her rather supernatural, you 
 know," she said to Miss Lennox. " But she is not, 
 dear thing, the least." 
 
 " What is she'? " said Miss Lennox. 
 
 " Indefinable, obviously," said Mrs. Gibbs, in the 
 pause. " Come now, Maud," she encouraged the 
 girl. " Let us hear you paint a character." 
 
 " Margery tried to paint a rainbow last week," 
 murmured Charles, " but the rainbow faded before 
 she matched the green." 
 
 " Don't I " the girl said, laughing. The combined 
 stimulating gaze of her stepmother and Miss Lennox 
 disconcerted her. "Violet," she began, with an 
 effort, " is very pretty — and retiring " 
 
 " Like her name," Miss Lennox smiled. 
 
 "No; not modest, — nor reserved even, because 
 she can talk, can't she, Charlie^ " 
 
 " Fire and dew," said Charles. 
 
 "Oh, dear, isn't he tiresome"? Why don't you 
 tell Miss Lennox yourself, if you're so eloquent^ " 
 
 " Miss Lennox is concerned with her practical 
 qualities," said Mrs. Gibbs rather dryly. " No one 
 wants fire and dew in a workshop; it would rust 
 the needles." She looked surprised as they laughed. 
 Mrs. Gibbs had dealt largely with young females in a 
 quasi-professional capacity, and she found it hard 
 
GLASSWELL 13 
 
 to believe that her husband's niece was an exception 
 to ordinary laws, though she knew little of her 
 beyond what she gathered at intervals from Arthur 
 and the girls. But she suspended judgment on 
 principle until she had studied Violet Ashwin on her 
 own merits, apart from her rather disconcerting 
 parents. The elder Ashwins, far from being un- 
 definable, seemed to her acute judgment simple 
 enough. She wondered they should interest gossip 
 as much as they did, for she was sure she could 
 match them both by the dozen in London, and 
 probably their daughter too. She was rather 
 amused by what she privately considered her step- 
 daughters' " airs " on the subject of this connection; 
 but though naturally downright and penetrating, a 
 life of varied trouble had taught her patience, and 
 had given her at least a fair imitation of that much- 
 vaunted commodity, natural tact. 
 
 In short, Mrs. Gibbs waited ; and knitted a stock- 
 ing for Charles to fill up time. 
 
 " Is she thorough'? " asked Miss Lennox. " Does 
 she go through with things, I mean, Miss Gibbs? " 
 
 " She goes to the back of them," said Charles. 
 
 " Yes, — well, it's true," said Maud. " She might 
 seem to take up things rather at random. Miss 
 Lennox; but everything, in her hands, comes out the 
 same. She makes them herself, if you understand." 
 
 " It's not luminous," said Mrs. Gibbs, knitting. 
 
14 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 Miss Lennox set her lips oddly, for she possessed a 
 sense of humour. 
 
 " I don't know why I gathered from your note," 
 she said to her friend, " that the girl might not be 
 serious, — quite serious, — in her desire to work : 
 that she might be just one of the parrot-set, I mean, 
 who follow the fashion and repeat the cry." 
 
 " Which cry? " said Charles. 
 
 " The toilers' and spinners'," said his mother 
 crisply. " You would hardly have noticed it, my 
 dear; but it has been about the world, though not 
 perhaps at Cambridge." 
 
 " Oh, yes, yes," said Charles tolerantly. " I only 
 didn't know they cried." 
 
 " They don't if they are genuine spinners, Mr. 
 Shovell," said Miss Lennox. "And little Miss 
 Ashwin is quite in earnest, I gather. She really 
 wants to be a dressmaker." 
 
 The point, thus baldly stated, was effective at 
 least. It drew them instantaneously, all. 
 
 " Violet will make the most lovely dresses," said 
 Maud warmly. " Those she designs for herself and 
 her mother are dreams." 
 
 " Her work is neat enough," admitted Mrs. Gibbs, 
 who had seen specimens among her new possessions. 
 " Neat, if a trifle meticulous. She is not a common 
 incapable, Lois, anyhow." 
 
 " Don't let her prick her finger," said Charles. 
 
GLASS WELL 15 
 
 A pause succeeded this remark, which, intensely 
 as it was uttered, in its apparent imbecility cut 
 Miss Lennox adrift again. Young Mr. Shovell was 
 really too silly, she thought, and a couple of sensible 
 women such as these might stamp on him. But his 
 mother, rearranging the tea-cups, appeared to hear 
 nothing, and Maud sat smiling as though the allusion 
 was clear to her. So Miss Lennox (who had for- 
 gotten her fairy-tales) regretfully decided that, 
 Rector or none, she had better go. Miss Ashwin 
 herself, she learnt from Henrietta, was expected 
 with her father at Glass well on Sunday, and she 
 would be able, being kindly asked to join the party, 
 to do business directly with the doctor, and have 
 the benefit of a clergyman's counsel too. That was 
 the greatest boon in store, though Dr. Ashwin, 
 something of a celebrity, was interesting. Mr. Gibbs 
 had long ago had charge of the parish where Miss 
 Lennox worked at Battersea, and he had since loomed 
 god-like in Miss Lennox's eyes. Mr. Gibbs, it may 
 be mentioned, was rather wasted on the part, for 
 almost any pastor would have served as well. 
 
 She would have liked to have a few final words 
 with Henrietta alone; but as things emerged, she 
 was fated to be seen out by Charles, who always, if 
 mechanically, did the correct thing. When he ceased 
 lounging and stood upright, he was a handsome and 
 graceful youth; but Miss Lennox, deeply concerned 
 
i6 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 about serious questions, was singularly unobservant 
 of exteriors. 
 
 " Can you really see Mrs. Ashwin's daughter at 
 Battersea*? " she demanded of her escort on the door- 
 step, hoping to jolt him, as it were, into the truth. 
 
 " Battersea," said Charles, and his vague eyes 
 came to rest upon her. " Oh yes, it makes little 
 difference. I saw her the second time at Bletchley, 
 on the bridge." 
 
 " Her heart's not in Harley Street," was his final 
 observation, offered as the abstraction called Lennox 
 retreated down the steps. It may have been kindly 
 meant to reassure her, but it sounded more like the 
 refrain of a song. 
 
n 
 
 THE FAMILY 
 
 " You would really think Charles desired to be 
 thought half-witted," remarked Mrs. Gibbs, when, 
 finding her son had no intention of returning to the 
 drawing-room, she bade Maud shut the door. 
 
 She spoke soberly, and with perfect self-command; 
 for though Charles was a thorn in the side that 
 pricked her constantly, she was not at all the woman 
 to lay herself out for casual sympathy. She was 
 confiding in Arthur's girls by degrees, as their 
 sterling qualities became apparent to her: and she 
 thought that in time she would make a friend of 
 Maud; but she wished to let them get over the first 
 fascination of the uncomfortable Charles before she 
 started. 
 
 To her own mind, he was the one weak point of 
 her strong position at Glasswell Rectory, now of some 
 five months' establishment. She had made apologies 
 for him once and for all to Arthur, before she in- 
 truded her son upon his household, as a piece of 
 property which she could not defend, but of which 
 she saw no immediate prospect of getting rid. She 
 
i8 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 had warned Arthur that Charles would criticise 
 everything, and be entirely useless in parish, house, 
 or grounds. She had warned the girls, — Maud, that 
 is, since Margery was the danger, — that he would 
 probably fall in love with them, but they had better 
 take no notice. 
 
 Neither of her prophecies had come to pass; for, 
 firstly, Charles had been evidently impressed by his 
 stepfather's personality and social ideals, and knew 
 every child in the village by name at the end of the 
 first week; and secondly, far from being the object 
 of his fruitless sighs, Maud and Margery promptly 
 fell in love with him : interrupted their useful occu- 
 pations to listen to his airy rhapsodies, and showed 
 him off to all their acquaintance with the pride of 
 girls who had never had a brother, or studied a youth- 
 of his class at closer quarters than across a drawing- 
 room. 
 
 They were good, shy, earnest young women; and 
 their excitement over this new acquisition of theirs, 
 during the first weeks that succeeded their step- 
 mother's home-coming, was so naively apparent, 
 that there was serious danger of Mr. Shovell's being 
 finally and flatly spoiled. But, providentially for 
 all concerned, Charles was thinking of higher things ; 
 and his vague eyes seemed hardl)^ to notice them, — 
 or at least Maud. Margery fell under his gaze 
 occasionally, and more than once he condescended 
 
GLASSWELL 19 
 
 to intimate speech with her. But it was not her 
 handsome exterior that attracted him, nor even her 
 handsomely stored mind, for on each occasion his 
 subject in these interviews had been Margery's 
 cousin Violet, in whose remote existence, in her 
 fairy palace in London, his state of rapt interest 
 was such that Margery began to suspect he had 
 encouraged his mother in her new connection solely 
 in order to get nearer to the girl. Charles, for all his 
 grumbling at his mother's methods, and for all her 
 vigorous treatment of him, had such an air of man- 
 aging her and the world to his liking, that Margery 
 thought it not impossible; and she imparted the 
 private conviction to her sister, over hair-dressing, in 
 the seclusion of their common room. 
 
 " Is he in love with Violet? " asked Maud. 
 
 " Oh no," laughed Margery. " You mustn't even 
 suggest it, darling. It was all by moonlight, don't 
 you see? I think he confused her v/ith the moon." 
 
 They laughed : but their laughter was directed at 
 Charles, not at Violet, to whose moonbeam qualities 
 her cousins gave their due. Even to her own sex, 
 Violet was thrilling; and Margery in particular, the 
 contemporary and chosen confidante, was her sworn 
 adherent. It is true the adherence had to be mani- 
 fested largely on paper, for though the Rectory girls 
 lived but an hour from a London terminus, and were 
 Miss Ash win's most immediate kinswomen, they saw 
 
20 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 her in the life very seldom: for reasons which only 
 a closer acquaintance with the circumstances of both 
 families could make apparent to the enquirer. 
 
 Their mother, the first Margaret, who died when 
 Margery was ten, had been Dr. Claude Ashwin's 
 only sister, almost of his age, and closely bound to 
 him. Claude's marriage had been a passionate 
 though private grief to Mrs. Gibbs; and her deep 
 disappointment, and painful though resigned renun- 
 ciation of her favourite brother, had passed by re- 
 flection, as it were, to the girls. Maud especially 
 guarded the inherited grudge against " Aunt Evie," 
 who, contrary to the advice of her exclusive inner 
 ring, had known her own business so well as to 
 ensnare the rising doctor, and having caught, to cling 
 to her prey. It was thus Margaret Gibbs had 
 thought of the transaction, the preliminary stages 
 of which had passed beneath her eyes. After one 
 determined effort to outwit the ensnarer and save 
 Claude, she gave in to superior guile, and accepted 
 the inevitable, to all appearance, easily. She at- 
 tended the wedding with little Maud, witnessed 
 Claude's evident infatuation with a sisterly smile, 
 and performed fastidiously, to the end of her life, 
 her own part of the social exchange with the wealthier 
 house in Harley Street. She never consciously let 
 slip an ill-natured word on. the subject, above all in 
 the presence of the children; yet, as has been indi- 
 
GLASSWELL 21 
 
 cated, something of the dryness of her private j udg- 
 ment had passed to her elder daughter. Margery, 
 gayer by temperament, and seven years younger, had 
 shaken herself free of the grudge a little. Margery 
 was her father's girl, and had absorbed a measure 
 of his tolerant admiration for Eveleen, as for some 
 exotic bird of brilliant plumage that had settled at 
 the limits of the Rectory garden, and which it 
 pleased the Rector's simple heart to watch from 
 time to time. 
 
 Eveleen " knew her business," Mr. Gibbs ex- 
 plained, though he did not define exactly what that 
 business was. The independent celebrity to which 
 she attained, parallel with Claude's, as it were, and 
 as though competing with him, amused the Rector 
 persistently to contemplate. His occasional man- 
 ner of reading aloud, at the rectorial breakfast- 
 table, scraps of society gossip in the papers that 
 referred to her, was slightly shocking to earnest- 
 minded visitors, and decidedly puzzling to the 
 strong-minded lady who now sat at the head of 
 his board. 
 
 " Can't you see her*? " Mr. Gibbs would say, 
 looking about him for sympathy, having extracted 
 something quite unnecessarily frivolous about Mrs. 
 Claude Ashwin, in a setting of mauve orchids and 
 diamonds, for the delectation of his family. " The 
 diamonds were real, too; few but gene-wine, — 
 
22 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 weren't they? " And Margery would laugh and up- 
 hold him amid the general disapproval. 
 
 It was an attitude his first wife had encouraged; 
 he and Margaret had long since agreed, for want of 
 better opportunity, to treat the Ashwin menage in 
 this charitably rallying vein. Claude himself was 
 far too good a man, and too old a friend, to be 
 ignored or condemned, still less sentimentally com- 
 passionated. At the moment of mating he had 
 chosen strangely, but there was a strange element 
 in his composition, as there had been in his sister's, 
 and none admitted the fact more freely than Mr. 
 Gibbs. Mr. Gibbs judged men by their records; and 
 Claude Ashwin's record, daring and dazzling as were 
 the attainments scored, — " indecently successful," 
 as Margaret had said of him, — included a solid basis 
 of serviceable work. Beneath the man of fashion and 
 the scientist he was conscientious and generous, just 
 as Margaret had been; and the Rector, having 
 marked down these essential qualities, excused his 
 restlessness, overlooked his somewhat erratic scintil- 
 lations in dialogue, and allowed him as many con- 
 tradictory poses as he cared to assume. The Rector 
 had loved his Margaret earnestly, and learnt her 
 carefully, and by the time of her death he had got 
 far enough in the study to comprehend many things 
 in her brother also, which he could not naturally 
 have comprehended. Her death, indeed, had left 
 
GLASSWELL 23 
 
 him curious, and he would gladly have pursued 
 
 Claude's acquaintance, if only to satiate the curiosity, 
 had fate and their respective lives — and wives — 
 allowed it. But there lay the difficulty, a natural 
 barrier, which his simplicity never overstepped. 
 
 Eveleen, since the day of her marriage, never sent 
 a glance of encouragement in the direction of 
 Claude's sister's family. She had not stirred a finger 
 to bridge the gap across which Margaret's skilled 
 acting, and tireless activity, had thrown so many 
 tentative communications. At her sister-in-law's 
 death, urged in part, no doubt, by immediate 
 jealousy of Claude's overmastering grief, she had 
 kicked the last strand of intimacy with the Gibbses, 
 as it were, away: refused to attend the funeral, and 
 neglected even the decent garb of sympathy she 
 might have assumed by writing to the girls. Her 
 behaviour marked a definite attitude, in short, 
 which she had never been at the pains to mark 
 before; and Mr. Gibbs, who had known something 
 of her in life, and yet more of her through Margaret, 
 acquiesced in it, though for the sake of her husband 
 and daughter, regretfully. 
 
 Mr. Gibbs for his part had re-married, after some 
 seven years, deliberately and without a scruple. 
 Margaret had told him to do so, and he generally 
 took Margaret's advice in the end: but it was some 
 
24 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 time before he found the woman with whom he could 
 associate comfortably, after her. In the interval, he 
 moved out of town into the country, where a fat 
 living was offered him, which he accepted for his 
 children's sake. He much preferred the city work 
 himself, but he was informed by Maud that he was 
 growing too old for it, and, shaking his head sadly, 
 he submitted. Cheered by Margery on the way 
 down to Glasswell, he began to have an idea that 
 the country might prove interesting, and so it did. 
 He discovered deep within himself a gardener and 
 a farmer, and while he pottered among his pigs and 
 his peas, he began to wonder why Margaret, with all 
 her psychological penetration, had never planted him 
 in the country before. Within a year of settling in 
 Glasswell he found himself so happy that he became 
 ashamed: and rising up, he looked about him for 
 stimulating obligations. 
 
 As soon as he looked, he discovered he was a 
 parent, and obligations swarmed upon him. Maud 
 and Margery, those charming and sensible com- 
 panions, were grown girls and of an age to marry: 
 and he was selfishly detaining them at his side. 
 From the moment he began to envisage them as 
 young women, he made discoveries like thunder- 
 claps. Out of his own company, they were shy with 
 men; they saw nobody for months together but one 
 another, — they were prim even with the curate. 
 
GLASSWELL 25 
 
 They refused invitations on the plea that they were 
 too busy, — too busy with his, Arthur Gibbs' work I 
 Maud was concealing housewife's worries, and look- 
 ing worn beneath the eyes. Margery, returned from 
 boarding-school, was settling in a dreadful content- 
 ment to her painting of the village children, and 
 the care of fowls, — a healthy, clever girl who might 
 be at college, breaking the soft hearts of her unwary 
 tutors, just as Margaret Ashwin had long since 
 broken the Rector's. It was all as bad as it could 
 be, — terrible. Such a state of things must be most 
 summarily changed. 
 
 So the Rector, who was popular with all his 
 women parishioners, past and present, went to town 
 to call on a former one, Mrs. Shovell, whom he had 
 known in his first parish. She was a woman of good 
 provincial family herself, the relict of a younger son, 
 who had been through rather ghastly misfortunes as 
 a young married woman, and whom Margaret had 
 subsequently seconded in a vigorous struggle for 
 her livelihood, and the health of a young child. 
 Having seen her feet safely on the road, the busy 
 clerical pair had lost her, and it was by a chance that 
 Mr. Gibbs had re-discovered her, established and 
 prosperous, as the head of a hostel for girls in a good 
 quarter of the town. Mrs. Shovell had speculated 
 astutely on a tendency she had marked, the rising 
 flood of independent young womanhood; and being 
 
26 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 well-bred and most painfully experienced, was able 
 to advise them. She had useful connections, and 
 made herself a good position. She sent her boy to 
 school and college in triumph, and travelled with 
 him in the holidays. She and her benefactor Mr. 
 Gibbs met again on the warm terms of mutual con- 
 gratulation. They revived pleasant memories of 
 Margaret and the little girls, settled, since Mrs. 
 Shovell would have it so, a very ancient debt, and 
 could look calmly, from much the same standpoint 
 of dearly-won experience, upon life's present com- 
 plications. It was one easy slide, for the Rector's 
 optimistic nature, from these terms to matrimony. 
 The understanding was frank: it was simply an 
 alliance of friendly forces for mutual good, and was 
 regarded by both sides as such ; and the younger gen- 
 eration was happily in each case of such amiable 
 temper, that the clash was less than is apt to be fore- 
 told by the more suspicious critics of such unions. 
 " Mamma is quite nice," Maud wrote quietly to 
 an old school-fellow, " and has not upset more than 
 you would expect in a house like this. Of course, we 
 see much less of Papa than we did. . . . Mar- 
 gery is to go to Cambridge in the autumn, and 
 Mamma has let me be what I have long wanted to 
 become, a proper accountant to Papa for the farm. 
 I have been certain for ages that we were wasting 
 money, and Mamma agrees with me, and has made 
 
GLASSWELL 27 
 
 him see reason. I am thankful to be really useful 
 to him in a way I like at last." 
 
 " Charlie is the funniest dear," announced Mar- 
 gery the artist to an enquiring comrade of the brush, 
 " with blue, sleepy-looking eyes, and a haycock of 
 hair, and an absolutely perfect nose like a Gains- 
 borough portrait. When he attends at all to what 
 you say he looks surprised. He does not mind being 
 drawn the least, so long as he can smoke. I never 
 tried a man before, and it is thrilling. He seems 
 quite to have taken to Papa, and tells us remarkable 
 things about Cambridge after dinner, which cannot 
 all be true. . . . Things are certainly more 
 lively at Glasswell since they came." 
 
 " There are two girls here," Charles warned 
 Robert Brading, a Cambridge friend he asked to 
 tennis. " They seem rather diffident creatures, but 
 they enjoy tobacco : and though they laugh too much, 
 they have stopped following me about. They both 
 begin with M, the tall one finishing -argery, and the 
 short one -aud. Owing to the respective length of 
 their bodies, I find it easy to remember. Their father 
 is a soul-saver of the genial kind, a very grand old 
 buffer ; and he has lately been married by my mother 
 for his good." 
 
 These naive confessions best prove the fact that, 
 where many such artificially constructed households 
 creak, that at Glasswell produced a harmony not un- 
 
28 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 pleasing to the ear; but how much of this happy ac- 
 cord of chance materials was owing to the Rector 
 himself, — since nobody on the spot discovered — we 
 must leave the Rector's critics at their own leisure to 
 decide. 
 
 HPi 
 
Ill 
 
 THE RECTOR 
 
 It had not occurred to the new Mrs. Gibbs that her 
 one weak spot, her intense though contained anxiety 
 about Charles, would make her more, not less, open 
 to the sympathy of the " maidens," as the Rector 
 called his girls. As a fact, the natural maternal 
 weakness appealed, at least to Maud, more than 
 all the strong armament of her virtues. And when 
 she now, on Charles' departure from the drawing- 
 room, betrayed her dread of his being thought, by 
 the casual visitor, half-witted, Maud roused with 
 promptitude to his defense, and her support. 
 
 " Nobody really minds," said Maud. " Perhaps 
 it's only the Cambridge way to talk like that." 
 
 " Oh, I acquit Cambridge," said Mrs. Gibbs. 
 
 " He was reading his German book this morning," 
 said Maud, " though he did not want me to see. I 
 expect," she proceeded, gathering courage, " that 
 now Violet has determined to adopt a career, Charlie 
 will also discover the necessity." 
 
 " Humph," said Mrs. Gibbs. She laid down her 
 
30 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 knitting, and thought it out. " Then, as his mother,'* 
 she said, " I may trust, my dear, either that Violet's 
 somewhat visionary influence may fail altogether, 
 or that, when the moment comes for her to go off 
 at a tangent, Charles may not go off at a tangent in 
 imitation." 
 
 " Wait till you see her," said Maud, with perfect 
 good temper. " You will not be surprised at Charlie, 
 any more than we are, really." 
 
 " You forget I have seen your cousin," said Mrs. 
 Gibbs. " I was with Charles when they met." 
 
 " At Bletchley, on the bridged " Maud enquired. 
 " Or by moonlight, near the Backs'? " 
 
 " Both occasions, presumably," said Mrs. Gibbs. 
 " That is, I was present officially at all the picnics 
 in which Charles took part that week; though I 
 daresay I did not distinguish one girl from another. 
 But at the station I absolutely spoke to her. We 
 were thrown against her as we crossed the line. She 
 had got separated from her party, and seemed to be 
 either ignorant or indifferent about her train. We 
 happened to be in a hurry to catch ours, so I did 
 not stay long." 
 
 " Who was with her^ " said Maud. 
 
 " Her mother, whom she pointed out to Charles, 
 was engaged in a tete-a-tete below us." 
 
 " Oh, — was Uncle Claude there, then*? " 
 
 " No, my dear, — another gentleman. I really for- 
 
GLASSWELL 31 
 
 get what name your cousin mentioned, but it had a 
 handle to it." 
 
 " Then," said Maud, with decision, " Violet had 
 not got separated. She was hovering on the bridge 
 out of delicacy. " 
 
 " Possibly," said Mrs. Gibbs, and seized her knit- 
 ting again. " Disgraceful, a girl of that age," she 
 muttered. " No wonder she flirts herself, when she 
 gets an opportunity." 
 
 "Oh, Mammal" cried Maud. "Violet flirt! 
 What a good thing Charlie did not hear you I " 
 
 " You mean to say " said Mrs. Gibbs, but 
 
 stopped as a large form darkened the drawing-room 
 window. " Oh, what a pity, Arthur," she changed 
 the issue, " Lois Lennox has been here for nearly two 
 hours, hoping to see you. She had to be back by 
 half-past six." 
 
 " Really? " said the Rector. " I say, how's that? " 
 He extended a particularly fine pea-pod, slightly 
 ragged at one edge. " The hawfinches again, hey? 
 I shall have to get a gun." 
 
 " No, you won't, Papa," said Maud. " The haw- 
 finches know you." 
 
 " Lois is in trouble," said Mrs. Gibbs. 
 
 "Hey?" said the Rector, laying down the pea- 
 pod. The lines of his cheerful face changed slightly, 
 but the second expression was quite as attractive as 
 the first. " I thought she was out of the wood." 
 
32 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " She's lost clients since that selfish woman went," 
 his wife explained. " She must have someone to 
 join her, that's a fact. She wants capital." 
 
 " Everybody wants capital," said Mr. Gibbs, and 
 his eyes fell wistfully on the pea-pod an instant. 
 
 " Imagine," said Mrs. Gibbs. " Lois made the 
 partner's whole trousseau for nothing, and only a 
 girl to help. Something like fifty pounds' worth, 
 probably, m trimmings and trouble. I cannot see 
 why simply getting married should make people so 
 inconsiderate. Lois loses enough by her going with- 
 out that. A bride of thirty, too." 
 
 " It excites them more, at thirty," suggested the 
 Rector. " A greater upset to the mind." 
 
 " Well," said Mrs. Gibbs, " I was married at 
 twenty-one, and again at forty-five, and I believe I 
 kept my senses the second time as well as the first." 
 
 " Indubitably," said the Rector. As she did not 
 look up, he winked at Maud, for he liked to share a 
 joke. However, Miss Lennox's affairs had taken pos- 
 session of his mind, and he began to turn them over. 
 
 "What about Maud?" he said suddenly. 
 " She would be handy with linings and things; and 
 Miss Lennox is nice company. Besides — young 
 women — London town " He looked hope- 
 fully at Maud. She had assured him fifty times 
 that she detested London visits, but he never could 
 digest the unsuitable fact. 
 
GLASSWELL 33 
 
 " And my capital, Papa? " was all she said. 
 
 " Oh," said the Rector. " Well, we might man- 
 age something." He scratched his jaw and looked 
 at the pea-pod. 
 
 " Extra large peas," mocked Maud. " Warranted 
 Church of England, a penny each," 
 
 " Peas with a taste of q's in them," said the Rector. 
 " No, it won't quite do. She has advertised, Hen- 
 rietta, I suppose'? " 
 
 " She does not want to advertise. She particu- 
 larly wants a lady, a person of decided character, 
 she said, and yet rather more sympathetic than Miss 
 Moffat used to be, not too old or ugly, with original 
 ideas and an eye for colour, — and psychological 
 insight above all." 
 
 "Good gracious I" said the Rector, impressed. 
 " Is that necessary? " 
 
 " Quite necessary," said Maud. " Miss Lennox 
 explained that so many of her clients live at Kensing- 
 ton and Chelsea, and that though they are interest- 
 ing, you have to adapt yourself." 
 
 " Do you? Then what about the decision of 
 character? " 
 
 " They often have not the least idea what they 
 really want," said Maud. 
 
 "Humph! And money into the bargain." The 
 Rector pondered. " I begin to think, ladies, the 
 paragon will be harder to find." 
 
34 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " We thought of Violet," said his wife, after a 
 pause. 
 
 Mr. Gibbs' face changed, lengthened, and then 
 relaxed completely. 
 
 "Violet*? Ha, ha I Violet and Miss Lennox! " 
 He swung towards Maud. " Which of you maidens 
 thought of that^ " 
 
 "Why not as much as me and Miss Lennox V " 
 said Maud, demurely. " She is such nice company." 
 
 " No, but really I " protested the Rector. " Violet 
 among the Chelsea blue dragons, — fagging for them, 
 
 — pinning up their tails I Claude would never see 
 it, you know. Your uncle would never see it, Maud." 
 
 " She wants to be useful," said Mrs. Gibbs. " I 
 understood." 
 
 " Gracefully useful," said the Rector, gesticulat- 
 ing, " gracefully. Claude's an exquisite, you know, 
 
 — was so long before the duchesses got hold of him. 
 And Eveleen — oh, ye little fishes I Think of her I " 
 
 " I do," said Mrs. Gibbs, with emphasis. " I should 
 not wonder if the child was better out of the house, 
 for her own sake. I was saying so to Maud. Lois, 
 say what you like, Arthur, is a thorough lady, and 
 an able woman as well." 
 
 " To be sure," said Mr. Gibbs, turning grave. 
 "Oh, to be sure." But his eyes still dwelt on the 
 fancy picture of Eveleen, wistfully. " Miss Lennox 
 is a fine creature, — charitable too. She is capable of 
 
GLASSWELL 35 
 
 charity. She took in that girl whose mother drank — 
 Alice something-or-other; apprenticed her on spec, 
 don't you remember"? " 
 
 He appealed, in absence of mind, to Mrs. Gibbs. 
 Then, recollecting that she had nothing to do with 
 his former parish on the Surrey side, diverted his 
 eyes to Maud, who nodded. 
 
 " A handsome creature," he added gravely. " We 
 had a lot of trouble to get her placed. The big 
 shops, you know, — common show-rooms, — you 
 don't like sending a pretty maiden there." 
 
 " Lois mentioned an apprentice," said Mrs. Gibbs, 
 who had ceased her knitting, a sign of interest. " I 
 did not know she was handsome, or that her mother 
 drank. Not that it matters at all." 
 
 " It would," said the Rector. " It would, don't 
 you see, to Claude. Violet and a girl like that — it 
 couldn't do." His eyes appealed to each in turn. 
 
 " I never knew anyone so conventional as you. 
 Papa," said Maud impatiently. " As I am con- 
 stantly telling you, you have a completely wrong idea 
 of Violet; and I shouldn't wonder if you are just as 
 hard on Uncle Claude. He must be a broad-minded 
 person, really." 
 
 " Oh, well," said the Rector, abandoning argu- 
 ment, " talk to him on Sunday. He'll bring the girls 
 down by one-thirty, he says; but we are not to wait 
 lunch more than ten minutes, because he might be 
 delayed twelve at the other end." 
 
36 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " How elaborate," said his daughter, " and how 
 like Uncle Claude. I hope he won't be so busy 
 counting minutes, he'll forget Violet." 
 
 " He meant Violet would delay him," said Mr. 
 Gibbs. " Violet's six veils, he said. That's for 
 motoring, eh'? " 
 
 "What a shame of him I " said Maud warmly. 
 " Margery is more likely to keep him waiting. Violet 
 is as precise as he is, every bit." 
 
 " He's not the least precise by nature," said the 
 Rector, musing. " Nor was she. Lazy and luxu- 
 rious young dogs, the pair of them. He has learnt up 
 all his clockwork along with the professional patter 
 — that is why he is so keen to show it off. Claude's 
 really quite easy to see through, you know. She 
 copies him." 
 
 " Which she are you speaking of now? " said Mrs. 
 Gibbs. Her tone was dry, but her aspect was be- 
 nevolent, and she was knitting calmly again. After 
 all, she had known Margaret too, and no one could 
 be vexed with Arthur's ineptitudes. 
 
 " Violet, my dear. She copies her Pa in every- 
 thing. Artificial little minx, hey, Maudie?" 
 
 Maud cast him a double-edged look which said 
 she understood it to be teasing, and disdained to 
 reply; and the Rector, leaving Violet, began on a 
 subject nearer his heart — the new gardener. 
 
IV 
 
 CHARLES' MEMORIES 
 
 Charles, meanwhile, having Violet's note in his 
 pocket, with its promise of her third entrance on his 
 life, timed for Sunday next at half -past one precisely, 
 was too full of the resulting mixed emotions to 
 remain indoors, still less to fix his mind on so un- 
 gainly a thing as German. German, according to his 
 mother, was his duty, since Charles understood from 
 her that he was to teach it in the time to come. It 
 is impossible to cast the mind forward upon a pros- 
 pect such as this, especially on a fine evening, in 
 an admirable Kentish garden full to the brim of 
 early summer fragrances, with a new gardener some- 
 where in the middle distance requiring careful ob- 
 servation at intervals. Charles preferred to cast it 
 backward, and, while he fumbled with the letter- 
 sheets, for he had abstracted Margery's reports as 
 well, to con over in mind the valuable links which 
 knit the chain, now nearly perfect, of his connection 
 with Miss Ashwin. 
 
 The first meeting had occurred at a picnic, a com- 
 monplace vacation affair at Cambridge, long-drawn- 
 
38 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 out. Violet had not materialized for Charles till 
 the close of the day, though she had been present, she 
 assured him later, all the time. His mother, who 
 considered herself in charge of the young party, had 
 been perfectly intolerable, fagging Charles unmerci- 
 fully as was her wont, leaving him really no instant 
 of leisure to enjoy himself in his own way. Mrs. 
 Shovell had had, moreover, mirthless jests at his 
 expense with the other chaperon : taunting him — as 
 he considered — with his recent failure in an exam- 
 ination, perfectly natural if properly understood. 
 Charles was so used to her misjudging him that, if 
 she had not twitted him in the presence of girls, he 
 could have borne it. As things were, he ignored her 
 at first, then sulked, and finally withdrew to the mar- 
 gin of the stream, and fell into a melancholy ab- 
 straction, nicely suited to the twilight hour. 
 
 Now, for the first time, his eye fell on Miss Ash- 
 win, who seemed absent too. She was a mere child, 
 in Charles' condescending eyes, with waves of dark 
 hair tied back in a large bow. She was considered 
 evidently as too young for an}'one to notice much, 
 but Charles, having leisure to observe, found her 
 face worth attention. He listened, and every time 
 she spoke she said pretty unexpected things. Now 
 this, at a river picnic, is exceptional. Miss Ashwin 
 packed all the picnic hampers so well and featly that 
 the matrons retired in her favour, and began to 
 
GLASSWELL 39 
 
 discuss their respective districts, seated on the bank. 
 Charles, recovering rapidly from his sulks, and reclin- 
 ing among the ruins of the feast, was shown how to 
 wind the handles of the cups in hay. 
 
 He did it clumsily himself, but he was quite con- 
 tent to watch her little fingers at the game. He dis- 
 covered at leisure she was pretty, and in a fashion 
 only the elect would admire. He, Charles, was the 
 elect. On the return journey, he let the large punts 
 start, and with the help of Robert Brading, a useful 
 friend, he detached Miss Ashwin, and enticed her 
 into a fleet canoe. After the necessary dodgings and 
 diplomacy, the party moved away, the moon came 
 up, and there began, for Charles, an entrancing 
 evening. 
 
 They exchanged notes on nature and art, punc- 
 tuated by long significant silences. Charles could 
 not make out if she was disdainfully aloof, or tired, 
 or simply demure. She spoke little, really, though 
 she inspired him to speak much; but her use of 
 words, and singular aptitude in placing them, im- 
 pressed him even then at intervals; and whole sen- 
 tences remained strung, as he discovered later, in 
 memory. It was this completeness in her, from the 
 first, that abashed his manly superiority. 
 
 They came to confidence by degrees, and per- 
 suaded themselves rapidly — Charles did, that is, — 
 of a close resemblance in their situations. They were 
 
40 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 both oppressed and overlooked by their surround- 
 ings. They were both jarred and outraged by details 
 in daily life to which none but the elect gave heed. 
 
 " Perhaps we expect too much," admitted Charles. 
 " That is the worst of standards." Miss Ashwin 
 shrugged a little, and dabbled a hand in the stream. 
 
 " Aren't you the least trifle degoutee? " queried 
 Charles, with a bright thought: and she accepted it 
 with a smile. Now, there was not a single other girl 
 on that picnic, — and Charles had tried most of 
 them, — who would have passed the word, or failed 
 to interpret it as " disgusted " if they had! It was a 
 triumph of sympathetic insight. 
 
 Later, when the moon rose higher, the pair of 
 degoutes got further still. Violet was little over 
 seventeen then, and Charles not yet escaped from 
 one-and-twenty, so that excesses under the summer 
 moon may be excused. At least they never thought 
 of flirting, their range was far above that. They 
 spoke openly, Charles especially, each assuring the 
 other that they had never spoken openly before; 
 which in Violet's case was true, and in Charles' some- 
 what exaggerated. He had much to say of his life, 
 its discoveries and disappointments ; and she, reticent 
 about hers, listened sweetly. Later he realised that, 
 being a girl of wealth and leisure, she could hardly 
 have known such things. 
 
 " It is difficult to believe," said Violet vaguely, 
 
GLASSWELL 41 
 
 dripping water through her fine fingers, " that some 
 people have souls at all." 
 
 " My mother has not," said Charles. " She is one. 
 A good soul, don't you think'? " 
 
 The girl laughed a little, but said, " She 2S good," 
 — thinking of the vigorous debate upon districts, 
 probably. 
 
 " WTiat about yours?" said Charles, wondering 
 (since they had never been introduced) if he could 
 venture on Violet's name. " Is she a good soul too"? " 
 
 Miss Ashwin drooped her lashes. " Mother is not 
 good," she murmured. " Not even good." And 
 breathless silence descended. 
 
 " It is strange, isn't it," said Charles, growing rap- 
 idly happier, " that we should both be placed like 
 this." They agreed it was strange. Thus forced to 
 criticise their mothers, even to condemn, they were 
 quite cut off from the world, and the flirting portion 
 of it in the now distant punts. Obviously, every- 
 body else in the world either owned an ordinary 
 mother, or else had lost her decently. They were 
 unique; and fate, or rather Charles' diplomacy, had 
 thrown them together to discover it. Their friend- 
 ship, — it was friendship, — had a foundation out 
 of the world, behind time. A nebulous bond united 
 them, a bond which, being nebulous, neither had the 
 temerity, nor the ill-taste, to define. They were ridic- 
 ulous young people. 
 
42 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " Of course, if I see much of you," said Charles, 
 hunting his vision more ardently as the necessary 
 parting approached, "Mother, — being Mother, — 
 will think we want to be engaged." 
 
 Violet looked at him with large grey eyes. " Is she 
 like that? " she said. 
 
 *' She thinks I am like that," Charles explained. 
 " She has always mistaken my character. Tou^ no- 
 body could mistake, of course." He looked at her 
 face, pallid in the moonlight, reverentially. 
 
 " I should very much like a friend," Miss Ashwin 
 said in her gracious, rather mechanical tone. " But 
 you had far better forget about me, Mr. Shovell. I 
 really don't signify." 
 
 " You are the only person I ever met who signified 
 supremely," he returned. " I think you are the best 
 naturally, — and I can only try to be." 
 
 He thought of saying "strive," and then abandoned 
 it as a bookish word. It was only this girl who could 
 talk bookishly without seeming the least ridiculous. 
 His last speech was a confession that he felt her 
 sincerity, where other girls would have been aping 
 stagily. For himself, he could only endeavour not 
 to clash with the clear queer impression she made. 
 
 She gave him her little fingers at parting, — river- 
 cool, — and said : " I am afraid we shall not meet 
 again." The still tragedy of her tone, and the in- 
 
GLASSWELL 43 
 
 tensity of her grey eyes through the dusk, thrilled 
 Charles. 
 
 " Don't you appear by day? " he asked. 
 
 " Oh I " said Violet, with a breath of disdain. " It 
 is only — Mother and I go on to-morrow." 
 
 " But so do we I " cried Charles. However, there 
 coincidence failed. They were not going to the same 
 place, though both resided in London. Violet was 
 visiting, flitting from friend to friend. Charles was 
 taking his mother to the sea. So they had a parting, 
 perfect in every detail, and delightful in recollec- 
 tion : and then, owing to the intricacies of the English 
 railway system, met the next day at Bletchley Junc- 
 tion. 
 
 As Charles had indicated to Miss Lennox, Violet's 
 atmosphere had triumphed over Bletchley. She had 
 been exquisitely remote on the bridge, bewilderingly 
 sad and lonely, and Mrs. Shovell, when they pro- 
 ceeded, had called her a queer little thing. But 
 Charles, brilliantly inspired to be practical, had 
 taken a short excursion round the piles of Mrs. Ash- 
 win's luggage ; and when he returned, had the Harley 
 Street number safe in the innermost sanctuary of his 
 pocketbook. 
 
 This precaution, admirably managed as it was, 
 proved fruitless, for Violet was the first to write. Her 
 
44 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 behaviour in doing so was unassailable; for firstly, 
 she left Charles an interval of some seven months 
 in which to speculate upon her, tear up half-written 
 sheets, and track her name about London: the last 
 a cat-and-mouse game that pleased him peculiarly, 
 owing to the comparative notoriety of her name, and 
 the extreme elusiveness of her person. Even when 
 she wrote, she was urged above all by tact and pro- 
 priety, for the Shovell-Gibbs engagement had lately 
 been announced, and she wrote to Charles as a pro- 
 spective cousin. 
 
 The letter was short as it was admirable, in an 
 extremely pretty handwriting. It was accompanied 
 by one to the bride, written " for Mother," as it 
 appeared, recalling their former meeting in an ac- 
 customed manner of society, regretting that Violet 
 herself could not be present at the wedding, as she 
 was going to Cannes, — but dear Uncle Arthur was 
 to be informed that she had told Father to try. 
 
 Father had tried, and succeeded, turning up for 
 twenty minutes at Mrs. Gibbs' reception: but 
 Charles, ignorant of his identity till too late, had 
 made the mistake of overlooking him. Violet's notes, 
 however, mere forms as they were, offered him food 
 for much wondering thought. Only a very original 
 person, he decided with acumen, could afford to be so 
 correct. Spurred by a new sense of intimacy, and 
 simultaneously by the assurance Miss Ashwin was 
 
GLASSWELL 45 
 
 far, Charles sent six sheets, scrawled over impul- 
 sively, to the address her father had mentioned at 
 Cannes. He said in the course of them far more than 
 he had intended to say, and spoke about himself 
 exclusively. 
 
 After another demure interval, came another ad- 
 mirable note, a square sheet as before, written over 
 in the pretty formed hand, and stamped with an 
 initial in the corner. Charles sniffed the paper at- 
 tentively, but it had no smell. It was different, not 
 only in this but other respects, from the kind of letter 
 he thought girls wrote, on the evidence of friends at 
 Cambridge. The document, oddly enough, offered 
 little news of the writer, and was largely devoted to 
 the praises of Margery, whom Charles, in his devo- 
 tion to the highest, had seen fit on first acquaintance 
 to decry. But this was evidently not the way to 
 flatter Violet. 
 
 " You had better make a friend of Margery 
 Gibbs," wrote Violet. " You must be firm, — it is 
 only to conquer her shyness. She will be of far more 
 use to you than I. Personally, I am changing with 
 this life, and shall not long respect myself, — how 
 then be respected*? You had better forget me, as I 
 said." Ending on this characteristic note of despera- 
 tion, it left Charles resolved not to forget her, at 
 least. She was, under the circumstances, far too 
 ready to suspect him of infidelity. She evidently 
 
46 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 saw him slipping already from their airy bargain — 
 and slipping in Margery's direction- The highest art 
 of long-practised coquetry could not so have stirred 
 Charles' order of boyhood, which needed before all 
 to be pathetic, not prosperous. 
 
 He wrote back in a hurry, gathering the discarded 
 clouds of tragedy about him again, proving to his 
 own satisfaction how lonely he was amid the decep- 
 tive joys of Glasswell, how useless and downtrodden 
 by the world, and claiming her sympathy anew on 
 the common ground of their first meeting. 
 
 After the accustomed pause, she replied again, 
 and plainly he had gained a step, for though still 
 studied in form, the matter of the missive approached 
 to confidence. Yet again, for all its confiding, it cast 
 poor Charles to a great distance : for it consisted of a 
 kind of intermittent diary, studded with the names 
 of the fashionable party Mrs. Claude Ashwin hon- 
 oured by her adherence : figures of some social note, 
 described with the kind of childish dryness, — the 
 potpourri of spring flowers, — that was Violet's spe- 
 cialty. Yet there were indications, not only in the 
 vivid descriptive passages, of her energy of mind. 
 She was studying French with Madame so-and-so, 
 dressmaking with her mother's maid. Monsieur this 
 had explained his Oriental collections to her, or Lieu- 
 tenant that the mechanism of the cruiser in the bay. 
 Charles began to be jealous of her varied interests. 
 
GLASSVVELL 47 
 
 — cranks, as his mother called them ; and told him- 
 self bitterly that he had merely had a share of that 
 facile feminine sympathy, pliant to all comers, but 
 of no lasting worth to any. Having thus grumbled in 
 mind through the greater part of the missive, he had 
 to grant at the close that she was again too clever 
 for him; for, desperate anew, she renounced it all, 
 and flung the webs away. 
 
 " I cannot pass another winter like this. I have 
 accomplished it for Father, but it is too exhausting. 
 I might say, I am giving my youth away by handfuls, 
 and to Mother, who has no need for it. Mother is 
 greater than I, for she has no doubts: and I doubt 
 myself continually. She will tell Father she is sat- 
 isfied, I hope, and that will acquit me." 
 
 Soon after that, Violet was " acquitted " appar- 
 ently. That is, her health or courage failed, and Mrs. 
 Ashwin sent her home, wrecked with the effort of 
 being all things to all men, according to her exquisite 
 standard, in a series of smart hotels. Mrs. Gibbs, 
 who never lost a chance of kindly service, instantly 
 asked her down to Glasswell, to pass the time till her 
 mother's return, and for the benefit of the country 
 air. Charles spent twenty-four hours in restless 
 anxiety, for he found himself unaccountably dread- 
 ing the girl's actual apparition ; but it was labour of 
 mind quite wasted, for, true to her tradition, his 
 elusive maiden did not come. Her father came in her 
 
48 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 place, flying down in his motor for an hour of the 
 afternoon, to make her explanations to her would-be- 
 hostess. Charles attended curiously to the colloquy, 
 concealed behind the conservatory door, which 
 opened to the drawing-room. Dr. Ashwin, in a tone 
 oddly like Violet's, produced a series of what Mrs. 
 Gibbs called ornamental excuses, beautifully worded, 
 but offering no evidence on the surface of their 
 sincerity. He proceeded to propose, under orders 
 from Violet, apparently, to carry Margery back in 
 his car to town. Margery, overcome by timidity, 
 and the suddenness of the offer, ventured a few 
 excuses on her side; but Dr. Ashwin, though he 
 talked to fill up time to Mr. Gibbs, seemed to be 
 simply waiting for her to fall in with the will of his 
 invisible princess. 
 
 Charles, amused since he was not concerned, at- 
 tended to Margery's struggle and subsequent col- 
 lapse. At its last stage, her uncle was heard to ob- 
 serve sadly that it was friendly of her, and Margerj^ 
 retired abruptly to dress. 
 
 " It is only till my wife comes home," said Dr. 
 Ashwin to Mrs. Gibbs, still attentive and explana- 
 tory. " That will not be long now, I understand. 
 We cannot think it good for Violet to be so much 
 alone." 
 
 " Has she no friends^ " said Mrs. Gibbs, marvel- 
 ling at his manner. 
 
GLASSWELL 49 
 
 " Few girl friends, as it happens. And she is not 
 yet strictly in the world, though Eveleen let her see 
 something of society abroad. Eveleen hopes to bring 
 her out next spring, and to present her. Meanwhile, 
 she is on our hands, — and I have little time. I 
 will take care of Miss Margery," he added quickly, 
 as though foreseeing a last scruple. 
 
 " Extraordinary creature," Mrs. Gibbs exclaimed, 
 when Margery, wrapped in the doctor's costly furs, 
 had vanished into the night. " Why cannot he be 
 natural'? Of course, the fact is, the woman won't 
 let the girl grow up. She is putting off the evil day." 
 
 " I should not wonder," said the Rector, with that 
 odd touch of complacency he always showed on the 
 subject of Eveleen. " Claude's always very careful 
 of the decorums, though," he added. " She has been 
 bothering him, evidently, the scamp: that is what 
 makes him so feverish." 
 
 This last was not intended, naturally, for his step- 
 son's ears, and indeed it hardly reached them, for 
 Charles was wrapt in thought. Something in the 
 dialogue had recalled to him Violet's last letter, in 
 which she was giving her youth away by handfuls; 
 and, extreme as the phrase undoubtedly was, for the 
 first time the possibly genuine pathos of the girl's 
 situation flashed through by its means to his more 
 reasonable mind. 
 
AMONG THE PEAS 
 
 The impression did not last long, 
 
 Margery's first letter to her sister, kindly shown 
 to Charles by Maud, disposed of pathos, and once 
 more shook his whole conception. It consisted of an 
 enthusiastic description of Violet's wardrobe, which, 
 in accordance with the first duty of a hostess, had 
 been laid before her cousin's eyes. 
 
 This letter, if interesting, was elaborate; and 
 Charles, on reaching this point in his recollections, 
 was obliged to have recourse to documentary evi- 
 dence. He therefore looked about him, as he pa- 
 trolled the garden-paths, for a haven where he could 
 study the documents, so carefully preserved, in peace. 
 A haven was handy; he had reached on his wander- 
 ings the forest of garden-peas, which were the Rec- 
 tor's pride and joy, and of which the earlier sorts, at 
 least, were already of a sufficient size to conceal him. 
 Amid the orderly ranks of these, convenient to his 
 need, he discovered a wooden stool, probably deserted 
 by the gardener, for there was a pail half full of pods 
 beside it. Charles sat down willingly upon the stool, 
 
GLASSWELL 51 
 
 and in his cool green seclusion, drew the crumpled 
 letters from his pocket. 
 
 On her return from, the South and arrival in 
 London, it seemed, Violet had been prescribed for 
 very promptly by medical authority below stairs: 
 the prescription being to drive with Father in the 
 park, and go with him to private views and the first 
 nights of plays. Violet had been obliged to explain 
 vtT}' firmly to Father that, after the ravages of the 
 Riviera season, she had no clothes. She wished dear 
 Margery to support her, and laid the evidence, in 
 trails of disordered silk and muslin, at her feet. Then, 
 perched on the bed and clasping her knees, she looked 
 at Margery with piteous eyes across the wreck. 
 
 " Father liked her to be nice," was her response to 
 all Margery's arguments. She would give the whole 
 of that for one nice fresh muslin, like that Margery 
 had worn for dinner the first evening. Father had 
 been simply charmed with that. 
 
 " I don't believe he even glanced my way," wrote 
 reasonable Margery. " It is only Violet's polite 
 imagination. But I mentioned Miss Lennox had 
 made the dress, for I thought one might as well do 
 her a good turn. As a matter of fact, it was not Miss 
 Lennox, who was ill at the time, but Miss Lennox's 
 Miss Eccles, the one whose mother drinks. Papa will 
 remember her. I never quite liked that girl, she's too 
 managing; but she certainly cuts well. However, I 
 
52 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 did not mention her to Violet, only the things I 
 thought were useful, tell Papa." 
 
 The results of Margery's kind thought for Miss 
 Lennox evidently surprised herself. Violet seized 
 the idea of helping her, and helping in a sense which 
 Margery would never have ventured to suggest, and 
 used the utmost address and promptitude to push 
 through the plans she made. 
 
 " She seems serious, so far as I can see," wrote 
 Margery, rather disturbed in mind about the matter. 
 " It is always a little hard to know, with her way of 
 putting things. Her words are more wonderful than 
 ever, Maud, this time. She cannot, she says, face 
 another winter like the last. She will not absolutely 
 refuse to be presented, for she is terribly loyal, but 
 she says she would stand before her Sovereign's eye 
 with greater confidence if she stood in the work of her 
 hands. As if Aunt Evie would ever let her ! She is 
 the maddest thing, — but just as nice as ever. I am 
 really having the most wonderful time, and being 
 spoiled disgustingly. Violet makes me tell her all 
 sorts of things I ought not, about Papa, and you, and 
 everyone. I have no intention of gossiping, but when 
 she looks at me with those great eyes, I do. And 
 what I leave out with an effort, you know, she fills 
 up in her own words, while I am stammering. I had 
 to tell her all about the business in the end; and all 
 about Miss Lennox's trials with that hateful woman, 
 
 I 
 
GLASSWELL 53 
 
 and so on. And Violet said it was intensely inter- 
 esting, — though nobody could possibly call Miss 
 Moffat that, — and declared she was going to speak 
 to Father after dinner, — and she did." 
 
 The parental interview was the next thing, dra- 
 matically given, 
 
 " Uncle Claude was tired, having had duchesses 
 all day. He terrifies me, especially when he is 
 polite, but Violet takes him very calmly. She began 
 as soon as the man had taken out the coffee. ' Father 
 dear, are you very tired? ' ' Not the least,' said 
 Uncle Claude, who was half asleep. ' Well, have you 
 any objection to my being a dressmaker? ' ' Oh, not 
 at all, — it would reduce my bills,' said Uncle 
 Claude. (Violet and he always sound as if they were 
 rehearsing for theatricals, when they talk. Their 
 voices are just alike, and rather sad. It is killing to 
 listen to them.) ' Eventually I trust it would,' says 
 Violet, ' but I should want a fairish sum of money 
 to start with.' ' Do needles cost so much? ' says 
 Uncle Claude. * No,' says Violet, ' it is only I my- 
 self happen to be worth rather less than nothing.' 
 
 " W^ell, that startled him awake. ' W^hat next. 
 Pussy? ' he said. I ought to mention she was in 
 white silk and moonstones, looking a little more like 
 Juliet than usual. ' I mean, I should have to be ap- 
 prenticed,' says Violet. ' And that means, somebody 
 must be paid to have patience with me. Regard it 
 
54 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 calmly, Father, if you can: you needn't stop smok- 
 ing.' But he did, and fidgeted into the bargain, 
 looking very miserable. At last he did just what I 
 was expecting, he said — ' Is this Miss Margery's 
 idea"? ' and turned to me. ' Well,' says Violet, 
 ' Margery considers, as I do, that it's about the only 
 thing I am fit for. You know I am a bungler, don't 
 you. Father^ ' (She had been playing to us divinely, 
 just before.) ' But there are dozens of girls in Lon- 
 don who are bunglers, and make their way all the 
 same; especially if their Fathers make a silver path 
 for them.' 
 
 " He looked a little happier at that; and presently 
 he had an idea, and said, suppose she consulted 
 Mother about it. ' I will, when I next meet her,' 
 says Violet, as calmly as possible. ' Tuesday or 
 Wednesday, that will be, I suppose. Apropos, if 
 you find a lady called Lennox at Glasswell on Sun- 
 day ' ' I am not going to Glasswell on Sunday,' 
 
 says Uncle Claude. ' Oh yes : you are taking poor 
 Margery down. Wait a minute.' She took the en- 
 gagement-book he had in his hand, turned the leaves, 
 and actually wrote in it while he waited, with a 
 little pencil. ' There, that is readable,' she said. 
 ' Now, to resume, if you should meet this Miss Len- 
 nox, don't speak to her in your clicking tone, or in 
 the sleep-walking one that Margery minds still more ; 
 but just ask her quietly about her terms. You are 
 
GLASSWELL 55 
 
 bound to approve of her, because Uncle Arthur does. 
 Good night, Father darling, remember that I count 
 on you.' 
 
 " Well, he let her kiss him, though he looked a 
 little dazed; and then he remembered me, and got 
 up on springs, — you know the way. He does look 
 ridiculously young, Maud I He was probably wrath- 
 ful with me really, but he only seemed polite and 
 anxious. ' Kiss Margery,' said the little wretch, 
 making me absolutely jump. ' Then hers shall kiss 
 me on Sunday, in exchange.' ' Then you are coming 
 down with us, Pussy ^ ' he said, turning right around 
 when he had obeyed her. ' Oh,' says Violet from the 
 door, ' one is expected to show oneself on these oc- 
 casions, I believe.' ' Doesn't one also require a char- 
 acter'? ' says Uncle Claude. ' I have one,' says Violet, 
 ' from Leontine. Disappointing for you, dear Father, 
 isn't it? I have worked for Leontine several times, 
 when Mother was out. I have elegant French testi- 
 monials at call.' 
 
 " Well, then he gave her up, and collapsed against 
 the mantelpiece. ' You had better be careful of 
 your get-up, on the occasion,' he said, looking at her 
 in the doorway. ' I will do my best,' says Violet, 
 turning tragic. ' I remember that Cook, the one I 
 engaged at an office for Uncle Arthur's wife, had an 
 especially nice hat. I doubt if I can find such a nice 
 one as Cook's. Mine are all full of confetti.' ' Of 
 
56 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 what'? ' said Uncle Claude. ' From the Carnival, at 
 Mentone,' said Violet. ' No one can wear a hat that 
 is full of disgusting little paper things, can they? ' 
 ' If I accompany you to your ofBce,' says Uncle 
 Claude, ' I should wish you to do me credit. What 
 is the price of a respectable hat'? ' ' Can you bear 
 me in a bonnet*? ' says Violet, turning more tragic 
 still. * It is so much more comfortable, and Leontine 
 says my contours support it fairly.' 
 
 "He laughed at that, — he is just like Mother 
 when he laughs; and then he stood up suddenly, 
 and bundled us off to bed, because he had an article.'* 
 
 Charles had read this lively letter attentively 
 twice, eating peas the while out of the pail beside 
 him, when the new gardener appeared at the extreme 
 end of the verdant vista to the right. At the un- 
 expected sight of a young gentleman on his stool, he 
 hovered in doubt, and seemed ready to retreat again. 
 But he need have had no fear. Ever ready for 
 fresh discoveries upon the path of life, Mr. Shovell 
 stowed away the letters at once, and prepared to be 
 sociable. 
 
 " How are you*? " he said, leaning to get a view of 
 the gardener, who was dodging him at the end of the 
 alley. " Is this your pail ? I am afraid I have upset 
 a few, by inadvertence." 
 
 The new gardener said nothing, which seemed 
 
GLASSWELL 57 
 
 his principal characteristic; but he took the pail 
 Charles advanced in his direction, and began nip- 
 ping off the clustering pods, choosing the right ones, 
 among flowers and half-grown fruits, with wonder- 
 ful celerity and judgment. Charles picked per- 
 functorily also, chucking a pod from time to time 
 upon the pail, and missing it not infrequently. 
 
 " It seems to me," he said soon, " that I should 
 not earn my living at this game. What do you think 
 about it, John*? " 
 
 " Abel, sir," said the new gardener. His accent 
 was impeccable, Charles observed, and the " sir " 
 seemed, in his mouth, a graceful superfluity. 
 
 " Excellent," said Charles cordially. " Infinitely 
 more original than John, and Biblical too. But you 
 will never get them to call you that." 
 
 " No, sir^ " said the new gardener, busily picking. 
 
 " No," said Charles, watching him as busily. 
 " What other names have you now, I wonder*? " 
 
 The man glanced at him, as though with a shade 
 of suspicion : but said, in the same refined and quiet 
 accent, " Peacock, sir. Vane-Peacock." 
 
 " You never mean it I " said Charles, almost stag- 
 gering off the stool. " Vane, — and Peacock too? 
 Mine is Shovell, — simply Shovell, you know. 
 Hadn't we better change? " The proposal was made 
 so earnestly as to take Mr. Peacock aback; but he 
 found nothing to do but to pick peas, so Charles con- 
 
58 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 tinued. " Shovell, you know, — spades. It's even 
 appropriate to the calling. I can't hear my mother 
 calling for Vane-Peacock. Where's Vane-Peacock*? 
 I suppose she knew it when she engaged you"? " 
 
 " She did not engage me," said the gardener, with 
 another look at Charles. He was a tall, imposing 
 figure of a man, but for all his physical stateliness, 
 his bearing had a touch of uncertainty about it. His 
 features, as Charles had noticed from the drawing- 
 room, were admirable, but the lips and chin, the lines 
 which testify to character, were obscured by a short 
 beard. 
 
 " Didn't she^ " said Charles. " Who did then,— 
 his Reverence? Ah, well, he's a Socialist, of course, 
 so it would strike him less." 
 
 During the long silence that ensued, he wondered 
 if Mr. Vane-Peacock was by any chance offended. 
 His own affability was sometimes apt to be mis- 
 interpreted; and this, by all outward signs, as well 
 as in name, was a remarkable fellow. 
 
 " I wonder," mused Charles, " if this is what they 
 call a gentleman gardener*? I ought to have asked 
 the governor before I started talking. It's so very 
 hard to make out nowadays ; and one would not want 
 to blunder at first acquaintance." 
 
 " You pick peas wonderfully fast," he said polite- 
 ly. "I suppose you studied your profession. Where 
 did you start life, now. London*? " 
 
GLASSWELL 59 
 
 " Staines," said Mr. Vane-Peacock. 
 
 " To be sure, — my mistake." Charles laughed 
 agreeably. " Not many market-gardens in the City, 
 are there'? It's a pretty stiff training, I suppose." 
 He tugged at the stalk of a pod. " What are the 
 qualities, in your opinion, one most requires"? 
 Patience ? " He abandoned the stiff pod, and pointed 
 it out to Peacock, who twitched it off and threw it 
 in the pail. " You see," he added gravely, " I am 
 thinking of taking up some sort of profession myself, 
 one of these days : and that might do." 
 
 Vane-Peacock set down the pail, turned round 
 upon Charles, and stared. Thus seen full-face, he 
 was certainly a very handsome man; though blank 
 astonishment is not the expression which sets off ad- 
 mirable features best. 
 
 " I am afraid, Vane-Peacock," said Charles, re- 
 fiecting aloud, " that Margery will want to paint you. 
 You have not yet met the younger Miss Gibbs, I be- 
 lieve. She is coming home on Sunday. Have you 
 ever sat for your portrait to a young lady"? "^hat 
 needs patience, if you like. But Margery swoops 
 upon everybody, regardless of their more regular oc- 
 cupations ; and I cannot think she will long let you 
 off. I only warn you," he added, " for your good." 
 
 " Thank you, sir," mumbled Mr. Peacock. 
 Charles thought he perceived him blushing, actually, 
 as he moved among the peas. 
 
6o A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " That last speech was an exact reproduction of 
 what I said to Bob Brading last Sunday," he re- 
 flected, " and Abel blushes in just the same fashion as 
 Bob. Now, Bob will be a baronight as soon as Di\ 
 Ashwin has finished off his father, and Abel studied 
 gardening at Staines. Of course, on some questions 
 the classes might resemble one another. It migh: be 
 simply the name Margery, — it's such a frightfully 
 feminine-sounding one. Any man of real self-re- 
 spect would shy at it a little." 
 
 " I don't suppose you have any sisters," said 
 Charles, raising his voice as the gardener retreated 
 down the row. " Five? Oh, that's all right. Pretty, 
 are they? — I expect so. You have cousins perhaps 
 as well? Female ones? On the Vane-Peacock side, 
 or the other? I say, I hope you don't mind my 
 gassing like this. It's only my way." 
 
 The new gardener did not mind it, apparently. 
 At least, he could easily have moved to the next rank 
 of peas if he had chosen. Charles watched him 
 wistfully, envying his power of dignified silence, but 
 quite incapable of imitating it. The sound of his 
 own voice among the peas was dear to him. Be- 
 sides, if he went into the house to his German, as 
 duty had for some time past been directing him, 
 Vane-Peacock would be so lonely. 
 
 " I hope you like the cook," said Charles, shifting 
 the stool a trifle in his wake. " She is Mother's 
 
GLASSWELL 61 
 
 choice: at least Mother approved of her. Miss 
 Gibbs' cousin, Miss Ashwin, chose her actually, at a 
 registry office in London." 
 
 At the name, the new gardener's shoulders started. 
 He stopped working, braced himself, and stood up- 
 right. " Miss Askw'm, sir? " he said. 
 
 " Violet Ashwin," said Charles airily, much 
 pleased by his attention. " Pretty name, isn't it'? I've 
 a letter from her here." He began to consider if, 
 pending the arrival of Margery, he could show the 
 letter to this quiet, sympathetic, distinguished-look- 
 ing man. But he decided he would not proceed with- 
 out more definite encouragement. A man so evi- 
 dently rich in sisters and cousins as Peacock might 
 even be disdainful of his dear possession. 
 
 "The hawfinches have been at these peas, sir," 
 said Peacock, after a pause, — much the longest 
 sentence he had yet pronounced. Charles longed to 
 congratulate him on the well-marked opening of the 
 word hawfinch, but fancied it might not be 
 acceptable. 
 
 " Hawfinches it is," he said, endeavouring not to 
 overdo the aspirate. " The windmills are supposed 
 to scare them. I saw you admiring them lately, out 
 of the drawing-room window. Did you have wind- 
 mills at Staines *? " 
 
 " No, sir," said Peacock. 
 
 " I thought as much. The governor made them, 
 
62 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 and Margery, I believe, chose the colours. Yet I 
 had my doubts if the sort of thing is done in hrst- 
 ciass gardens. To my mind the decoration is over- 
 done. I can imagine a hawfinch saying, — ' Quite a 
 pleasant breeze, my dear. Come along and eat peas, 
 and watch Mr. Gibbs' little windmills turning.' 
 But that's the gentleman-amateur all over, isn't it*? " 
 
 Charles thought this a neat trap, and watched 
 Vane-Peacock, or what he could see of him, through 
 the hedge. He thought he really must betray him- 
 self if he answered; and quite forgot that he might 
 choose the course of not answering at all. This nega- 
 tive quality in the man was disconcerting, and pro- 
 vocative. Charles decided that he would have to 
 talk to Peacock at every opportunity, or he would 
 really finish by respecting him. 
 
 " His manners are perfect," pronounced Charles. 
 " How little it needs, to be classed as well-mannered, 
 really. Peacock has hardly answered any of my 
 remarks, and when he does it is generally by a mono- 
 syllable or a repetition. Yet I defy a duke to behave 
 better than Peacock has done this half-hour, and he 
 has worked hard all the time. Of course, physical 
 magnificence is more than half the battle ; but a quiet 
 manner increases it. And I never in all my life met 
 a quieter manner than Peacock's." 
 
VI 
 
 VISITORS AT GLASSWELL 
 
 Charles saved up Peacock carefully as a subject 
 of conversation, when the motor-party arrived on 
 Sunday, for he felt he might be in want of subjects. 
 He had not yet met Dr. Ashwin face to face, and had 
 neglected him rather flagrantly at the wedding, not 
 being properly posted up as to his importance. 
 Charles hoped to the last that he would be prevented 
 from coming, persuading himself that doctors always 
 are prevented, generally on the doorstep, by a tele- 
 gram. In this case, Violet and Margery would arrive 
 alone, go about arm-in-arm as girls do, and could be 
 dealt with in the mass, as it were, with a pleasant 
 patter of brotherly chaff. Charles might be said to 
 shine at patter; but society conversation, in the glare 
 of publicity, and under his quasi-uncle's cool dark 
 eye, was quite another pair of shoes. 
 
 So indeed Charles found it : for the party turned 
 up complete, and punctual to the hour given, with- 
 out even the extra ten minutes Dr. Ashwin had al- 
 lowed for his daughter's veils at starting. Charles 
 heard the arrival from his room above the drive, and 
 
64 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 took stock of the family gathering carefully over the 
 banisters, before he strolled casually down into the 
 hall. 
 
 Dr. Ashwin had placed himself at his hostess's 
 elbow, and appeared to be behaving quietly, and not 
 glittering in any manner to annoy. He also very 
 evidently suffered from hay-fever, a tiresome and dis- 
 figuring ailment, so that Charles thought less of his 
 appearance than he had been led to expect by the 
 girls. Margery, a tall, pretty creature of eighteen, 
 was circled appropriately by the Rector's arm, and 
 leant against his shoulder, laughing shyly as usual at 
 the remarks of others. Margery was rather blowsed 
 and dishevelled by the wind; but Violet, having dis- 
 carded veils and other impedimenta, and touched her 
 hair to either side with two delicate decided hands, 
 emerged upon the world immaculate as when she 
 shrouded herself at starting. 
 
 Charles felt half exultant, half confused by her 
 completeness. They were a large mixed party with 
 whom Miss Ashwin had to deal, but, undismayed 
 by numbers after her recent practice at Mentone, 
 she met everybody correctly, with short emphatic 
 speeches. It had been too sad, Mrs. Gibbs was in- 
 formed, to refuse the invitation to Glasswell, and far 
 better than Violet deserved to have Margery. 
 " Father and I," Maud was privately assured, 
 thought Margery looking quite lovely, and so well ! 
 
GLASSWELL 65 
 
 Uncle Arthur was to tell Father at once what the 
 rose was by the gate, and see that he wrote it down, 
 because he was so careless. She gave Charles pre- 
 cisely the same hand-shake, — rather high, — that 
 she gave to Robert Brading, but she added a little 
 smile in Charles' case, demure and dimly appealing. 
 Mr. Shepherd the curate she bowed to gravely. 
 
 Charles thought he saw, and was triumphant in 
 the thought, that his mother disapproved on sight of 
 Violet. Mrs. Gibbs, superficially minded, would 
 naturally not penetrate to her finer qualities. Bob 
 Brading, on the other hand, saw and looked beyond 
 them; for though manifestly respectful to Miss Ash- 
 win, the daughter of a man he admired, and attentive 
 to all she said, his eyes did not dwell upon her. She 
 did not exist for him beside Margery Gibbs. 
 
 Robert, an excellently modest youth, thought that 
 he had fathomed the reason of Margery's apparent 
 indifference to his presence at Glasswell. He was 
 labouring in the matter under a misapprehension, the 
 fault of Charles. Robert had plenty of solid brain- 
 power, and had scored successively in all the exam- 
 inations where Charles had failed; but he was not 
 ingenious, and he was a prey to ingenuity. Charles 
 educated Robert by startling him frequently, and up- 
 setting him at intervals ; and he had been upset into 
 an absolute bramble-patch of delusion over the Ash- 
 win affair. 
 
66 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 Charles had started confidences, as usual, by 
 mentioning to Bob on a suitable twilight occasion, 
 that only one woman in the world had ever under- 
 stood him. He chose his hour and his tone of voice 
 so well, that Bob was persuaded the only womxan 
 was dead. Then, a little later, with the news of 
 Mrs. Shovell's engagement, a wave of excitement on 
 Charles' horizon became most apparent to his friends, 
 exhibiting itself by the strangest feverish symptoms ; 
 and Robert, much hustled by small hints, could only 
 suppose that the only woman had come to life again, 
 and was at present in the offing. Still under these 
 confused impressions, he went down to Glasswell on 
 a Saturday for tennis, — and saw Margery Gibbs. 
 There could be no further doubt of it, of course, — 
 unhappily for Robert. And he was only waiting 
 now, as he told himself firmly, to congratulate 
 Charles. 
 
 Great doubt, soul-searching, and suspense were 
 Robert's portion this day, owing to Margery's diffi- 
 dent and non-committal behaviour; and he was very 
 far at present from divining that the only woman, all 
 the time, for the admirable Shovell, was that slim 
 little girl with the waves of dark hair, who sat 
 daintily poised upon a blue sofa, and whose sole 
 fortune in life it was to be called cousin by Margery. 
 Thus are men made, and from this kind of wretched 
 groping are clever men not exempted. Meanwhile, 
 
GLASSWELL 67 
 
 Robert talked to both girls much more readily than 
 Charles; for Brading was one of those people, hated 
 by their wittier friends, with a store of nothings to 
 say on every occasion, and with no apparent con- 
 sciousness of the vanity of their conversation. 
 
 Charles, as he told himself, could not get a word 
 in edgeways, wished he had not invited Brading, and 
 began to sulk. He longed for somebody to snub 
 Brading, who had served every purpose he could 
 serve by breaking the first stiffness ; and whose plain 
 duty it now was to leave the field to others better 
 qualified for the game. 
 
 The first person, however, to come to our hero's 
 assistance was Dr. Ashwin, who had been sweeping 
 in the company methodically, while he fought his 
 threatened asthma, and talked to Mrs. Gibbs. When 
 the party re-grouped, he walked across to Robert, 
 and asked him how his father did. This, Charles 
 thought, would have done for most fellows, for Dr. 
 Ashwin was known to be one of the few authorities 
 in England on Sir Rupert Brading's disease. How- 
 ever, Bob had a commonplace all ready for him, as 
 it appeared, and the pair moved aside, speaking low. 
 
 Then Margery, warned by her cousin's hand 
 plucking at a stray curl, slipped to a glass to smooth 
 her hair, — and Charles had his tardy opportunity. 
 But alas ! the opportunity being unforeseen, and his 
 sulks half settled, he found nothing to say; and after 
 
68 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 a pause, Miss Ashwin obviously waiting for him 
 while she watched the point of her shoe, she had to 
 make the opening move. 
 
 " I am glad Mr. Brading's poor Father is better," 
 said Violet. 
 
 " Had you known Brading before, then'? " said 
 Charles. The speech was that of an ordinary young 
 man in a temper, simply. Violet glanced at him 
 surprised. 
 
 " Oh, no, — not this one," she said. " But we hear 
 of the old one so much. Father is always having 
 telegrams." 
 
 " I suppose he won't last out the winter," said 
 Charles, who knew very little of his friend's family 
 circumstances: though, it need not be mentioned, 
 Robert knew all his. 
 
 " If he would only trust Father altogether," said 
 Violet, with a bitter sigh. " But he only sends pan- 
 icky telegrams. Poor Mr. Brading I " 
 
 " I don't think Bob has much to be sorry for," 
 said Charles sarcastically. Then, owing to Violet's 
 silence, he wondered if the sarcasm was misplaced. 
 He could not explain to her that he had, as it were, 
 reserved her sympathy to himself, and that Brading's 
 family tragedies, however startling at first acquaint- 
 ance, bore no comparison with his. Argue it as you 
 would, old Brading's demise left Bob a baronet. Bob 
 would never have to choose among six revolting 
 
GLASSWELL 69 
 
 careers in order to make a living, like Charles. Such 
 details are not in taste to mention, but Violet might 
 give a passing thought to them. 
 
 Before they got any further, the Reverend Arthur 
 Gibbs approached their corner, bearing slowly down 
 upon them, in all his rectorial Sunday grandeur. 
 Violet beamed a demure welcome as he came. 
 
 " Mademoiselle est servie," remarked Mr. Gibbs, 
 not too loud, crooking his arm suggestively, and 
 cocking an eye at Violet. She seized the arm, button- 
 holing him. 
 
 " Oh, but surely, — Miss Lennox," she protested, 
 with her charming intensity, as of a fine hostess's 
 feelings outraged. 
 
 " I doubt it," said the Rector, "really. The Church 
 has an eye for the quality." He winked towards 
 \'iolet's father's back. " Next New Year, — you 
 mark my words." 
 
 " How vulgar I " said Violet, with such incisive- 
 ness that the doctor swung about, surprised. 
 
 " Sir Claude," said the Rector, on the instant, 
 " you will take my wife. Hurry, man, because we're 
 hungry. Margery, stop coyly curling your hair, and 
 take Brading. Miss Lennox will honour Charles. 
 Maud, — bother, where's the girl gone*? Well, she 
 will be found in the dining-room, fussing about. I 
 wish I'd called her Martha. She will sit by you, 
 Shepherd, eventually, if you follow patiently behind 
 
70 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 the flock. It's the shepherd's time-honoured posi- 
 tion," he added for his partner's benefit. 
 
 " Surely in front," said Violet. 
 
 " Don't show too much nasty learning," advised 
 the Rector, " or you'll frighten Charles. Shepherd 
 goes behind me^ naturally." 
 
 " Why? " said Violet, with innocence, smiling 
 sweetly over her shoulder at the curate. 
 
 Even the curate came in for her sympathy ! — it 
 was maddening. Charles had hoped at least to have 
 her ear at luncheon; but instead of that he was 
 snubbed by a light-minded stepfather, and given 
 Miss Lennox, who was wearing something like a 
 baby's robe, and was, in Charles' opinion, far too old 
 for it. He had seen Violet's eye rest for a thoughtful 
 moment on this garment, as she passed; and it had 
 given him his cue, for he was very heedful of her 
 expression. 
 
 By adroit management he did get a place next 
 her at table, and Brading, opposite, was happily 
 engrossed by Margery, for he had at last found a 
 subject, — art, — on which she would reply a little. 
 But Charles was baulked anew in confidence, by 
 Violet's undisguised interest in the dialogue between 
 the host and his brother-in-law, further down the 
 table; for the doctor sat at Miss Lennox's other 
 side, and engaged her very soon, in duty bound, on 
 the subject of hei industry at Battersea. Mr. Gibbs 
 
GLASSWELL 71 
 
 prompted for a time, and then, perceiving Claude's 
 smartness, desisted, 
 
 " Let him go," he soliloquised over his carving, 
 with the eye of amusement. " Tape and buttons 
 have no mysteries for him, have they? You and I 
 will talk of routs in the Metropolis, meanwhile." 
 
 " Thanks, Uncle Arthur," said Violet. " But do 
 you mind my listening? She is so interesting." 
 
 " Bother I " thought Charles. 
 
 " She's a good soul," said the Rector quietly. 
 " More sense than appears. She'll plant you some- 
 where, I'll warrant, if that's all you're wanting." 
 
 " It is not all," said Violet. " I have very definite 
 proposals, which I formulated to Father, coming 
 down." 
 
 " Humph I " said the Rector. 
 
 " Are you working against me? " enquired Violet. 
 "Ishe, Mr. Shovell?" 
 
 " Kindly notice those peas," said the Rector. " I 
 grew them." 
 
 " Where is Battersea exactly? " said Violet, clasp- 
 ing her hands on the table. 
 
 " Good Lord," said the Rector. " I christened you 
 there." 
 
 " I don't remember it," said Violet. " Have mercy 
 on my ignorance. I really know nrothing that side, 
 — except Waterloo." 
 
 " Waterloo," said the Rector, abstracted. " Well, 
 
72 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 there have been some Waterloos fought there, even 
 in my time." 
 
 " Won't you tell me some? " said Violet. He 
 glanced amusement at her, with an intent look, all 
 the same. 
 
 " You*? " he said. " Goodness, no. You eat your 
 dinner. Miss." 
 
 " You see what he thinks of me," said Violet, 
 plaintive but quite uncrushed, to Charles. " The 
 worst of churchmen is, they always think they know 
 what is suitable for people." 
 
 " Particularly girls," said Margery opposite. 
 
 " Of course, he has you and Maud," said Violet to 
 Margery. " That gives him more right to speak than 
 many men might have. But he probably takes your 
 usefulness for granted, and would have called you 
 lamentable exceptions if you had not been. Now, I 
 am an exception " 
 
 " But not lamented," said her uncle. 
 
 " Encouraged I " cried Violet. " Mother is en- 
 couraged too." She ate a pea and had an idea. 
 " Listen, Uncle Arthur. It was Margery's in- 
 fluence " 
 
 " Oh, Violet ! " interposed Margery, shocked. 
 
 " Her quiet influence," said Violet. " It was like 
 a ray of light in our house, — and even Father 
 felt it." 
 
 " Henrietta," complained Mr. Gibbs, " I am being 
 
GLASSWELL 73 
 
 hen-pecked. There's a Monstrous Regiment sitting 
 upon me. Why on earth do I have to preside at my 
 own table, with relatives to either side'? As well 
 be in the nursery," he grumbled. 
 
 " Arthur," said Mrs. Gibbs' weightiest tone. " Do 
 you hear what Lois is saying^ That Miss Eccles 
 thinks of leaving her, — again I Why can't the girl 
 be contented*? " 
 
 The host's attention was diverted. " Who is Miss 
 Eccles? " said Violet sotto voce to Charles. 
 
 " I don't know," said Charles, drawing in his chair 
 a little, " and I shouldn't ask." 
 
 But Violet did. Her elegant little eyebrows went 
 up at Margery across the table, for host and hostess 
 were conversing across her. Margery touched part 
 of the costume she was wearing. 
 
 " Forewoman, — she made it," signalled Margery. 
 
 " Very good," signalled Violet, with an emphatic 
 nod, and turned pensive for a considerable period. 
 The truth was, — and had better be hastily stated, — 
 that the first real discouragement in Miss Ashwin's 
 contemplated project had come, neither from her 
 father nor her uncle, nor even from Miss Lennox's 
 awkward manner and harassed face, — but from 
 Miss Lennox's Sunday gown below it. Dress was 
 to the point, even Violet's father could not deny; 
 also the mere sight of incompetence in such things 
 vexed Violet. The " silver path " on which her feet 
 
74 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 had been set in life had been such that the best, and 
 the best only, fell constantly beneath her view. The 
 second-best, the cheap, the dowdy, worried her 
 vaguely, even while her sense of duty found excuses 
 for it. She had that habit of the rich of believing 
 that such imperfections need not be. She did not 
 believe that Miss Lennox need look like that, with 
 proper attention: and she felt a sympathy, remote 
 but quite perceptible, with the forewoman of whom 
 Miss Lennox disapproved. 
 
 Quick of ear and eye, she thought she detected in 
 her father's manner, heed-fully suited to his society 
 as it always was, that Miss Lennox was not the 
 soaring ideal he had contemplated for his daughter, 
 on the strength of Margery's recommendation. 
 Violet could not catch all that passed, for Mrs. 
 Gibbs and her friend were both talking at the 
 doctor simultaneously; and the Rector's own share 
 in the colloquy, being distant, was largely short 
 replies, or glances of intelligence exchanged down 
 the table with his wife. 
 
 " Perhaps it's all for the best," he said quietly 
 once; and Violet gathered he was alluding to the 
 projected departure of Miss Eccles. She shut her 
 lips and made a resolution to look into this matter 
 later. Shortly after, by one of the inexplicable 
 coincidences of table dialogue, everybody seemed 
 
GLASSWELL 75 
 
 to be suddenly at the end of what they had to say, 
 and there was silence in the room. 
 
 It was Charles' long-looked-for opportunity. 
 Robert Brading opened his mouth, but Charles was 
 first in the breach. 
 
 " Our new gardener," he said, for everybody's 
 benefit, but as though continuing a conversation 
 with Violet, " is a strong, silent man." 
 
 " Charles, what nonsense," said Mrs. Gibbs. 
 
 " He has the manners of the ancien regime," said 
 Charles. 
 
 " England at its best," said the Rector, amused, 
 " and France at its worst. Go on, my boy." 
 
 '' And his name is Vane-Peacock," finished Charles. 
 
 It had all the effect he had contemplated. 
 " Impossible," said Dr. Ashwin's definite soft stac- 
 cato, just forestalling the laughter of the guests. 
 
 " Truth," said Charles, shaking his head, " is 
 stranger than fiction. Vane-Peacock is his name. 
 It has caused my mother sleepless nights, trying to 
 get over it, or round it, since he came. You see 
 
 " aside to Violet, — " her present name is 
 
 Gibbs." 
 
 " It really is a ridiculous combination, isn't it? " 
 said Mrs. Gibbs to her neighbour, ignoring Charles. 
 
 " It is an impossible one," said Claude Ashwin 
 again. 
 
76 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " Do you suggest, sir," said the Rector severely, 
 " that my gardener is masquerading'? " 
 
 " I do," said Claude. " Give me ten minutes' 
 private interview, and I promise I could at least 
 extract the Vane." 
 
 "Talks like a dentist, doesn't he*? " said Mr. 
 Gibbs, with a grimace in Violet's direction. Then 
 he leant back. " It's not to be thought of is 
 it, Claude'?" he jibed. "Double-barreled, — the 
 working-classes, — where are we getting to, hey?" 
 
 " Look here, will you introduce me? " said his 
 brother-in-law. 
 
 "And me?" cried Violet. 
 
 " Vane-Peacock is rather shy," objected Charles. 
 
 " So I should expect," said Claude. He leant a 
 second to look at Charles across the intervening 
 lady. Owing to chance combinations, the boy was 
 the one member of the company he had not yet 
 thoroughly investigated, and he seized the shifting 
 opportunity to make sure of him. These short 
 inspections were his habit, in connection, no doubt, 
 with the infallible notebook of his memory. But 
 Charles was not used to it, and he coloured up. 
 
 " He thinks Peacock a fraud, and you're in collu- 
 sion, Charles," said the Rector kindly. " And I'm 
 harbouring criminals, I shouldn't wonder. Sharp 
 men are so suspicious. The man's a capital worker, 
 Claude, — that should appeal to you." 
 
GLASSWELL 77 
 
 " With a Praxitelean profile," added Charles. 
 
 " He's certainly a handsome fellow," said the 
 Rector, with that manner of detachment that 
 is persuasive. " I say I " he added. " Margery's 
 drawn." 
 
 "So will he be," said Charles; and everybody 
 laughed, as the artist, whose shy aspect had changed 
 to eagerness for the moment, shrank back again, 
 blushing consciously. 
 
 Dr. Ashwin, having allowed a sufficient interlude 
 for the young people's chaffing, returned to his 
 neighbour Miss Lennox. 
 
 " I never knew but one man," he said to her in- 
 differently, " who really had the mask of a Greek 
 warrior; and he was one of the weakest characters I 
 ever met." 
 
 " Indeed'? " said Miss Lennox. " Where did you 
 meet him, Dr. Ashwin^ " 
 
 " He once fell under my care in hospital for a 
 time, for injuries to the neck." 
 
 " To the neck'? " said the host, his brow knitting. 
 Robert Brading's head turned sharply also. 
 
 " Oh, Father ! " gasped Violet, paling. One little 
 hand rose instinctively to her throat. 
 
 "An accident, I suppose?" said Mrs. Gibbs, 
 quietly sensible. 
 
 " Accidental, yes," said the doctor. " It was en- 
 tirely his own stupidity, as I informed him." The 
 
78 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 careless reply reached Violet, whose clenched hand 
 dropped on the table again. Her uncle, who had 
 been watching her in some anxiety, kept his mouth 
 shut, since Claude had given the lead. 
 
 " Did he die^ " blurted Robert, leaning forward. 
 He had failed to notice Violet's change of colour; 
 and Margery, who could have stopped him, was 
 puzzled. Some hitch in the natural sequence had 
 been apparent to the more intelligent members of 
 the company; and Margery, though not very 
 sensitive, was highly intelligent. 
 
 " No," said Claude to Robert. " Not that time." 
 
 Since the hostess made a movement, he rose with 
 decision, and drew back Miss Lennox's chair. As 
 his daughter passed him, he said something to her 
 low, which she only answered with an emphatic 
 little movement of her head and shoulders, perfectly 
 expressive of her sentiments. 
 
 As for Mr. Shovell, he strolled, carelessly as it 
 were, after the ladies; he stole the march on Robert 
 deliberately, though, if he had been consulted in the 
 matter, he would have preferred not to be obliged to 
 run the gauntlet of Violet's father's penetrating eyes 
 in doing so. He told himself, just at the moment of 
 passing, that he really failed to perceive what the 
 world in general, and Miss Ashwin in particular, saw 
 in this man, who had not said a single thing worth 
 listening to during the meal. 
 
VII 
 
 THE TALE OF ACHILLES 
 
 " Senile decay," announced the Rector, settling 
 squarely into his place when the feminine world was 
 gone. " I never knew you tell a pointless story, 
 Claude." 
 
 " I apologise," said his brother-in-law. " I 
 shouldn't have tried it. She is getting worse, I think." 
 The bar was in his brow, the bar that showed at once 
 on any reference to \'iolet. " I think," he added 
 cautiously, as he lit a cigarette, " that Miss Lennox 
 did not miss it." 
 
 "The point"? Oh, no, not she. But here's Robert 
 gaping simply; and you have a character to main- 
 tain. What was the true history of your Achilles'? " 
 
 " It's simple," said Claude, glancing in Robert's 
 direction. " The man was such a natural bungler 
 that he couldn't even cut an artery when he wished 
 to; and I made out he had wished to, quite 
 genuinely, for some minutes at least." 
 
 " Did you lecture him on the art? " said the Rector 
 rather grimly, 
 
 " I refrained," said Claude, his eyes on his cigar- 
 
8o A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 ette; " there's something so pitiful in real stupidity." 
 " I see, it was that that moved you." Mr. Gibbs 
 seemed content. His manner to this " indecently suc- 
 cessful " relative, several years his younger, was very 
 pleasant and elder-brotherly. " Go on, man," he 
 prompted, " Tell us what you did." 
 
 " I got the facts, so far as it was possible." 
 
 " Why wasn't it possible^ " 
 
 " Stupidity, I tell you. On my honour, he barely 
 knew his native tongue. Yet he was English, born 
 and bred. Did it ever occur to you, Arthur, that a 
 boy can come through all our board-schools, and not 
 know at the end of it how to speak? " 
 
 " The public schools," contended Mr. Gibbs, " are 
 just as bad. Do you mean he pronounced imper- 
 fectly*? " 
 
 " No. He had an ear, — just as he had a good pro- 
 duction, and beautiful teeth, — by no means always 
 the case in his class." 
 
 " What was his class *? " 
 
 " There you have me, — it was impossible to say. 
 I had him to the house later, and examined him, 
 to see if I could find out." 
 
 " Sheer curiosity," said the Rector, with satisfac- 
 tion. " All right, go on." 
 
 " I should think he had four or five dozen words 
 in his vocabulary; and no real morality at all." 
 
 " What do you mean by real morality*? " said Mr. 
 
GLASSWELL 8i 
 
 Shepherd the curate, waking : and his superior smiled 
 beneath his hand. 
 
 " He was governed by the need to be respectable," 
 said Claude, waking too. " He had chosen his words 
 with that view solely, and his clothes, with a kind 
 of admirable caution, — a self-protective instinct, 
 common to animals of the lower orders, — and fools 
 of the upper." 
 
 *' Oh, I say," protested Mr. Brading. 
 
 " The society touch," said Mr. Gibbs. " It's him- 
 self he's talking at. Bob, not you." 
 
 " But look here," urged Robert, " why had he tried 
 to cut his throat? That's not respectable, particu- 
 larly." 
 
 " No," said Claude, " but it was, to his fool's mind. 
 That is, it was more respectable than prison which 
 was the only remaining alternative." 
 
 " All right," said the Rector. " We don't flinch, 
 as you see. You can't make us jump by a little thing 
 like that. You'll tell us now prison is the natural 
 destination of gentlemen." 
 
 " Gentlemanly asses " 
 
 " A pity Charlie left us," said the Rector. 
 
 " And gentlemen out of place. Well, so it is," 
 said Claude. " They're safer there, at all events." 
 
 " Did you tell Achilles he'd have been better in 
 prison? You were never such a brute, Claude. 
 What had the poor fellow taken? " 
 
82 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " The poor fellow had taken a motor-car, the prop- 
 erty of a man at Staines." 
 
 " I say I — that's good " — from Robert. 
 
 " It might have been," Claude agreed. " But he 
 shilly-shallied over the business, as usual." 
 
 " You mean he hesitated," interposed the curate, 
 who, slightly flushed, was evidently up in arms for 
 the defence. The Rector, much entertained, de- 
 tected the jealousy of the professions, and sat by 
 amid his smoke, prepared to spur it if necessary. 
 
 " Yes," said the doctor. " He had a devil of hesi- 
 tation. He didn't even confess it straight. He told 
 me he had taken it for the afternoon, — for a run to 
 Oxford. Oxford struck me as good, — hey, Arthur? 
 Instinct again." 
 
 " You beastly cynic I " Mr. Gibbs was spurred to 
 take part. " Why shouldn't he have borrowed, and 
 intended to return it*? " 
 
 " I don't doubt he intended it, in his fashion; but 
 he couldn't have done it for his life. He would have 
 looked too nice inside." 
 
 " This is simply jealousy," said the Rector. 
 " What do you say, Shepherd"? I believe he defeated 
 you in argument, Claude." 
 
 " He defeated me utterly. I've never been so 
 tired," said Claude, " after any interview in my life. 
 I daresay he despises me to this day for my restless 
 curiosity. But I got all the history I wanted." 
 
GLASSWELL 83 
 
 " You supplied it," said the Rector. 
 
 " He supplied it, — on my honour, Arthur I In 
 the style of a spelling-book, — but comprehensible to 
 the merest philosopher.'' 
 
 " You anticipate me," said Mr. Gibbs. " Greats- 
 man, I was about to say, but yours sounds prettier." 
 
 " Was he nabbed, then"? " demanded Robert, 
 whose object was the story. 
 
 " He was traced to Oxford, — and left in a hurry, 
 with the car." 
 
 " For Staines," cried the Rector. " What did I 
 say? " 
 
 " Doubtless: but he overshot Staines, and arrived 
 in London: which was the first sensible thing he 
 had done." 
 
 " Sensible'? " said the curate. 
 
 " Certainly, — if he had decided to be a criminal. 
 But he hadn't decided anything. He took fright, — 
 his conscience awoke, as you would say, — left the 
 car in a public place, where it was reclaimed by the 
 police, and retired to cut his throat quietly in the 
 neighbourhood of a hospital." 
 
 " That shows prudence, at least," said Mr. Gibbs. 
 
 " The last infirmity of an ignoble mind," snapped 
 Claude. 
 
 Mr. Shepherd, recognising the quotation, laughed. 
 Then, facing the staggering fact of the story, he 
 said, " Poor fellow I " very gravely. 
 
84 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " Shepherd finds it rather admirable," said the 
 Rector. " I'm not sure I don't too. What about 
 you, Bob-?" 
 
 " He must have been rather a footler," said Mr. 
 Brading, after thought. 
 
 " Good, — it's the Church against the laity, then. 
 We're still waiting for the sequel, Claude. Having 
 saved the scamp's life, and taken his confession, 
 what did you do next? I suppose red-handed justice 
 was waiting for him round the corner." 
 
 " No, she was not. That's where you're wrong. 
 Justice won't look at fellows like that. Undeserved 
 clemency was waiting for him; sympathy and con- 
 sideration dogged his steps. The owner of the car, 
 who had known him, thought he was a very superior . 
 man, of very refined instincts, and he had done ex- 
 tremely wrong to let such a temptation as an empty 
 car stand in his way." 
 
 " Was he a Reverend too? " enquired Robert. " I 
 say, I'm sorry, Mr. Gibbs." 
 
 " No. He was a rose-grower, and a sentimentalist. 
 Perhaps all rose-growers are. He had the infernal 
 folly," said Claude, warming suddenly, " to write to 
 me — to me^ — suggesting kleptomania," 
 
 " It's said to be an upper-class malady," said Mr. 
 Gibbs, a twinkling eye upon him. Throughout, he 
 had been attending more to the man than the story 
 he told. That was the Rector's way. 
 
GLASSWELL 85 
 
 " I wish the term had never got beyond the dic- 
 tionary," said Claude, with a bitterness vividly re- 
 calling his daughter's tone. " I had already sent him 
 my opinion of the case, as clear as I could state it, — 
 just as I have stated it to you." 
 
 " Cheek," agreed Robert soothingly. " What did 
 you answer the rose-grower, sir'? " 
 
 " I said, if he showed any such symptoms of 
 nervous debility, quiet confinement was what he 
 needed." 
 
 " You did not," said the Rector. " That's only 
 the dinner-table version. You probably hushed the 
 scandal up, and started a collection." 
 
 " The parson at Staines had already done that," 
 his brother-in-law retorted. " And the rose-grower 
 followed, — and all the ladies of the parish rushed 
 to join." 
 
 " Then he was a regular attendant, I expect," said 
 Mr. Shepherd, quietly firm. 
 
 "Attendant? — ah, — perfectly regular, yes. It 
 was no credit to him," the doctor added hastily. 
 " He simply hadn't the originality to be otherwise." 
 
 There ensued an interval, during which the Rector 
 smoked, and pondered in silence, with an occasional 
 shake of his lion-head. He was subtracting Claude 
 from his story, as it were, and found the mathe- 
 matical result, though curious in its way, suggestive 
 of other and melancholy things which had occurred 
 
86 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 during his long experience. He had not the remotest 
 inkling at this stage of any intention on Claude's part 
 beyond that of entertaining them, in which he 
 generally succeeded. Peacock, with the ghosts of 
 the former conversation, had long since passed from 
 his mind. The Rector was an excessively easy 
 person to mislead, as a pair of young Ashwins, 
 twenty-five years previously, had discovered. One 
 had but to tempt him into the by-way of one of his 
 private interests, — and he was a man of many 
 harmless cranks and investigations, — for him to 
 ignore all other logical conclusions or sly suggestions 
 that might naturally be derived from the dialogue. 
 Bob Brading alone, by the light in the narrator's 
 eye, suspected that some seed of unsown diversion 
 still remained; and Bob was far too respectful to 
 his seniors to ask for it. He followed his own in- 
 genuous reflections on the case instead. 
 
 "Was there a girl in the business*?" he asked 
 abruptly. 
 
 The host rose, and Dr. Ashwin too, before he 
 answered. Then he said in his most expressionless 
 tone — 
 
 " Probably : but I did not press him." 
 
 Nor did he even glance at Robert in replying; 
 for, as eventually appeared in intimate conversation 
 with Mr. Gibbs, he had taken him in, and Margery, 
 and their whole situation, with its simple problem 
 
GLASSWELL 87 
 
 of honourable scruple on the one side, and intense 
 natural shyness on the other, in the ten minutes, 
 while he had both beneath his eyes before the meal. 
 
 Charles denied himself the men's time-honoured 
 privilege in vain: the ladies obviously did not want 
 him. He sulked for at least an hour down by the 
 peas, smoking and peering through the laurel hedge 
 at intervals, before he spied, and seized upon his 
 opportunity. 
 
 All that time. Miss Ashwin had been planted on 
 a cushion at Miss Lennox's feet, beneath the mul- 
 berry on the lawn, where, clasping her knees, she 
 had been listening sweetly to Mrs. Gibbs' opinions, 
 in the original version, and second-hand through the 
 mouth of her friend. Miss Lennox spoke the more 
 freely, but Violet, an expert in original documents, 
 recognised the authority very well, though she 
 directed her answers tactfully to Miss Lennox 
 every time. She looked very pretty and very 
 tranquil to Charles' attentive eye, whenever he 
 caught a glimpse of her through the hedge; and he 
 had every reason to hope that the grotesque idea of 
 her joining Miss Lennox in trade had been utterly 
 routed, long before the close of the conversation. 
 
 " I hope that old female has not been boring 
 you," he said, when he finally dislodged her, and 
 steered their course towards the rose-garden; for 
 
88 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 showing Miss Ashwin the roses had been his able 
 excuse. 
 
 *' Well, you see," said Violet, holding her hair with 
 both hands in the breeze, " that's what I came down 
 for." 
 
 "To be bored?" 
 
 " Mr. Shovell I To find out all I possibly could 
 about Miss Lennox, and her ideas: and to let her 
 make what she could of me." 
 
 " Well, I should say she'll use you to the v^orst 
 possible advantage," said Charles. " Look at her 
 get-up." 
 
 " I did, of course; but that's not a real sticking- 
 place. Mother is the real sticking-place, as your 
 mother very soon found out. Of course. Father has 
 given me his word to do what he can; but I really 
 think," said Violet, holding her hair and looking 
 worried, " Mother and Miss Lennox had better not 
 meet. They are such different types, you know." 
 
 " Won't they have to meet*? " said Charles. 
 
 " Well, there's a fighting chance, as Father would 
 say, that Mother may wash her hands of me." 
 
 " Would he say that? " said Charles, rather 
 staggered. 
 
 " No, no. Fighting chance is Father, Mr. Shovell ; 
 all the rest of it is me. And I," added Violet gently, 
 " would not have said it to anyone but you." 
 
 Charles glowed. Here was the bond he had missed 
 
GLASSWELL 89 
 
 all day I He came closer to her promptly, and felt 
 all her original glamour revive. 
 
 " It is easy to get vulgar in one's thoughts about 
 some people," pursued Violet. " But when they are 
 relations, you have to watch your words. I get so 
 tired of watching eternally, — my soul is craving for 
 Battersea. Oh, I hope she will let me go I " 
 
 The end was childish, but as characteristic as the 
 elaboration of the rest; and what was more im- 
 portant, she seized Charles' arm. Charles enjoyed 
 this, walking on air, until they reached the rose- 
 garden; when she dropped her hand with the same 
 ease that she had shown in placing it there, and 
 began to caress the roses. 
 
 " Shut your eyes tight," Charles advised, as she 
 laid her cheek against the cool curved petals, — 
 " breathe hard, and think of Battersea." 
 
 " I am thinking," she assured him. " Will you 
 recommend me, Mr. Shovell, and visit me some- 
 times? I am afraid I shall be rather a fixture." 
 
 " It won't be every day, I suppose," said Charles, 
 absently entranced by her proceedings. He thought 
 he had never seen anything so delicate as her manner 
 of flirtation with the flowers. It was hard to believe 
 that some of it was not meant for him; and yet, 
 granted a Londoner in the country, one could not be 
 sure. One never could be sure, with Miss Ashwin. 
 
 " Except Sunday," Violet informed him, " and 
 
90 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 Saturday afternoon. Miss Lennox's hours are very 
 kind ones, nine to seven with lunch and tea intervals. 
 I made her give me the girls' time-table exactly, 
 because vagueness in a matter like that is nonsense, 
 after all." 
 
 " But " Charles was staggered anew. " You 
 
 mean to say your mother's not bound to mind'? " 
 
 " Would yours? " said Violet sweetly. 
 
 " Of course not," countered Charles. " I'm im- 
 portant to mine, worse luck." He added illogically, 
 — " And you are of course a great deal more im- 
 portant than you will admit." 
 
 " No," said Violet. " Not this year, I mean. After 
 next March, Mother will have to notice me a little. 
 This spring, she simply put me through my paces at 
 Mentone, and I have reason to hope she was 
 satisfied." She sat down on the sun-warmed bank 
 of the tennis-court, and considered at leisure, 
 clasping her knees. " Mother," she said, " is coming 
 home by Paris, and we all know what that means. 
 For the first few days she will dazzle us terribly, and 
 we shall have all we can do to withstand her. But 
 Father is a business man, — and that means a man 
 of honour, doesn't it? — so he will catch Mother at 
 odd times. Father's resources, a la rigueur^ are for- 
 tunately inexhaustible; so I can only trust Mother 
 will ultimately decide to ignore me, and tell her 
 friends at tea that I am in the country." 
 
GLASSWELL 91 
 
 " But do you mean you will have no holidays'? " 
 persisted Charles, realising the thing slowly, as he 
 leant against a pillar of the pergola. 
 
 " Very generous ones," said Violet warmly. 
 " Miss Lennox gives fifteen days in August regularly, 
 turn about, of course ; and a week at Christmas, and 
 an occasional week-end. The weak-end sounds like 
 weakness, don't you think'? " She shot a look at 
 Charles side-long, of which Charles was just too late 
 to catch the expression. 
 
 " But look here," he said indignantly. " Aren't 
 you putting money into it? " He turned to face her. 
 
 " Father will insist, — and manage it probably, 
 said Violet. " I am afraid he may have a bother 
 with her. Miss Lennox is a person to be rather silly 
 about money, I should say, — I mean, when she likes 
 the people. I ought to have warned Father not to 
 be too fascinating, if I had thought of it. . . . 
 However, I gather Miss Eccles keeps Miss Lennox 
 in order, in that and other things. I have a certain 
 faith in our Miss Eccles, Mr. Shovell." 
 
 " I expect she is interesting," said Charles sarcas- 
 tically. 
 
 " I am sure she is," said Violet. " And she must 
 not go, because we cannot spare her. You see, Miss 
 Lennox calls her smart, and says she is a good girl at 
 the core, but attracts the wrong kind of customers; 
 by which Miss Lennox means the other kind. And 
 
92 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 her mother drinks, poor dear, and Miss Lennox 
 wants to persuade them to live in a Garden City. 
 Yes," said Violet, as Charles ejaculated, " it seemed 
 to me painfully mal a propos^ but I could not tell her 
 so. Her intentions are really all so excellent. As it 
 is. Miss Eccles lives at Brixton, wherever that is, — 
 and I am longing to make her acquaintaince." 
 
 " And her mother's*? " said Charles. 
 
 " She may be fond of her all the same," said Violet, 
 blushing faintly. She paused a moment. " I wish 
 Mother drank, — but she only dazzles. It is so much 
 more dangerous to the community." 
 
 " That's overdoing it," thought Charles. He was 
 capable to-day of noting Violet's faults, and he 
 thought she put it on a little," on the subject of her 
 mother. The last speech, at least, must have been 
 composed in advance, and intended to crumple him. 
 He refused to be crumpled, and preserved a superior 
 line. 
 
 He said, — looking at the view with his far- 
 sighted eyes, and looking extremely handsome and 
 sulky, — " I believe the old female discouraged you 
 thoroughly, only you won't admit it." 
 
 "Out of — what?" smiled Violet. 
 
 " Oh, feminine contumaciousness. I am sure your 
 governor didn't care for it, anyhow." 
 
 " So am I," said Violet. " I shall have to talk to 
 my governor again. He spoke in his clicking tone 
 
GLASSWELL 93 
 
 several times, and his sleepwalking once, and I could 
 see Miss Lennox's back hair trembling. From now 
 till Tuesday, Mr. Shovell, I shall enter on campaigns. 
 Won't you even wish me joy of them*? " 
 
 " Oh, I suppose so," said Charles. 
 
 But he felt rude and dissatisfied; and the occa- 
 sional glimpse of Violet's grey eyes, which, charming 
 as they were, had a glimmer of mischief at moments, 
 did not add to his general contentment. 
 
 She was not quite what he had thought her. He 
 could not longer conceal the sad fact from himself. 
 Not content to remain his private cynosure, a grace- 
 fully-shrouded mystery, she pushed through the 
 clouds he had provided, and challenged his judg- 
 ment in the paths of common life. This was rash of 
 her. Yet he was sure, still, that he knew her better 
 than her proceedings suggested she knew herself. 
 He could have warned her that in this pursuit she 
 was daring a fate, the fate of her own personality, 
 that must ultimately recoil upon her head. She 
 was young, of course ! — and very prettily impulsive, 
 as the mere man in Charles admitted; but his saner 
 discernment assured him, for his consolation, that 
 she could not possibly keep it up. The 7nal a propos 
 of the smart forewoman to Miss Lennox, or of her 
 red-nosed mother to a Garden City, was not more 
 striking, to Charles' mind, than the blank in- 
 appropriateness of Violet Ashwin to all or either. 
 
94 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 Long before that instructive walk was over, — and 
 they wandered for a considerable period, idly- 
 talking, about the grounds, — Charles, skilled in 
 quiet observation and analysis of Nature's diverse 
 phenomena, had Violet's character by heart, as his 
 chronicler need not say. 
 
 It is just possible that Dr. Ashwin's daughter had 
 his as well. 
 
VIII 
 
 THE SCHEMER 
 
 He was convinced that everybody saw as he did, 
 with the exception of the wilful heroine. 
 
 Charles easily saw things as he wished to see them ; 
 and when the wandering couples re-united, to take 
 early tea on the loggia in front of the garden entrance 
 to the house, he was soon able to mark a protest in 
 every attitude — even in that of Bob Brading, who 
 had probably been persuading Margery to take a 
 reasonable view of her cousin's caprices, during their 
 prolonged inspection of the fowl-run in the field. 
 Dr. Ashwin had also been dragged round the estate 
 by the enthusiast, his host, but Charles thought it 
 highly improbable that their conversation had been 
 of peas exclusively. However it may have been, the 
 bar on Claude's brow had disappeared; and though 
 his hay- fever was worse than ever, that mental fever, 
 which the Rector minded for him more, had abated 
 under the Glasswell influences. He looked, to those 
 who remembered, more like old days. 
 
 Mr. Shepherd had gone about his duties to church, 
 and Maud to hers among the school-children; but 
 
96 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 Mrs. Gibbs and Miss Lennox, left in close confabu- 
 lation under the mulberry-tree, had threshed out 
 everybody's affairs to admiration, and could greet 
 the re-assembling family, from their upper moral 
 level, with a benignant smile. 
 
 " He's a hopeless townee," the Rector was saying, 
 as he arrived upon the scene. " He thinks nothing 
 of my strawberry-pots, and he sneezes — literally — 
 at my hay." 
 
 " Did Peacock take you through the greenhouse? '* 
 said the hostess, as she handed the doctor his tea. 
 
 " Dear me, we forgot Peacock," said the Rector; 
 and the family laughed unkindly. Though the 
 Rector and his gardener were the best of friends, a 
 fierce rivalry was supposed, by the disrespectful, to 
 exist. 
 
 " It would have been useless, anyhow," Charles in- 
 formed him. " Violet — ah. Miss Ashwin — and I 
 called at the Vane-Peacock cottage in passing, but 
 the V-P was out, so we left a card." 
 
 " My card," said Violet. 
 
 " He had gone to church," said Charles, '' we 
 judged acutely, since his best hat was not there." 
 
 "I judged," said Violet. 
 
 " Well, I judged just after you," said Charles. 
 
 " Church? " said Robert Brading, with a singular 
 intonation. Looking round, his eye happened to 
 catch Dr. Ashwin's, which was half-obscured by his 
 
GLASSWELL 97 
 
 pocket-handkerchief, and he decided not to press the 
 point for the moment. He remained awakened and 
 attentive, however. Charles, having settled Violet, 
 ran on. 
 
 " When the governor had ascertained, in a lengthy 
 interview, that the V-P's attitude to pea-sticks was 
 all that could be desired, he had an afterthought, 
 turned back, and said he supposed he was a Church- 
 man. Only if the V-P, with his ineffable good- 
 breeding, had replied that his family had been 
 Parsees for generations, the governor would have 
 engaged him just the same." 
 
 " All gardeners are Parsees, I think," murmured 
 Violet, who, since Charles was occupied, was hand- 
 ing tea. 
 
 " Don't be ridiculous, Charles," said his mother, 
 *' and don't let Violet serve you like that. Of 
 course," she proceeded, turning to the doctor, " we 
 should not think of unduly influencing anybody ; but 
 if the man's respectable, and a regular attendant, it's 
 all to the good, I say." 
 
 " Certainly," said Claude, gazing fixedly at his tea. 
 He waited, expecting a comment from his brother- 
 in-law on the subject of his handsome gardener's 
 regular attendance, but none came. The Rector, in 
 a beehive chair, was looking absently benevolent, 
 and thinking, no doubt, of Peacock's impeccable atti- 
 tude towards garden produce. 
 
98 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " I should have liked terribly to talk to him," said 
 Violet plaintively. " And to look at him too." 
 
 " Why deprive others'? " said Claude, shifting his 
 glance on her an instant. " You came here to be 
 talked to, and to be looked at, — or so I understood." 
 
 " No, no," said the Rector quickly, awaking at the 
 tone. "Let her be, Claude; Miss, under my roof, 
 chooses her own company." 
 
 Violet's faint colour had risen, but her attentive 
 eyes, undismayed, moved from her father to her 
 uncle's kind face. It needed no effort, for one of her 
 blood, to read all that was there, indeed. She swept 
 it up, and acted without hesitation. Passing across 
 she sank down beside him upon the beehive chair. 
 
 " I sat between Aunt Henrietta and Miss Lennox 
 for more than an hour," she informed him, " and 
 they investigated me exhaustively. Aunt Henrietta 
 shook her head rather the most, but I have reason 
 to hope they have not ploughed me utterly, — oh, 
 mercy, plucked^ I mean. But I thought they needed 
 leisure to talk me over before they settled, do you 
 see'? So I went a walk with Charles." 
 
 The speech was delivered in her naturally soft 
 tone, but it reached the ears of the entire company. 
 Some quality in her neat detached utterance 
 always ensured attention, and lent importance, as it 
 were, to her easy use of the name. Mrs. Gibbs was 
 taken unaware, and her eyes fell consciously. She 
 
GLASSWELL 99 
 
 was still criticising Violet as a stranger, and was not 
 prepared to be adopted so readily, or wooed in such a 
 wistful little tone. She and Lois had reached the 
 conclusion, — she leading, — that this stylishly bred 
 girl was too ornamental to be profound. Violet's 
 manner was always against her with that large 
 utilitarian section of the community who suspect 
 decoration of concealing deficiency, and have no 
 inkling of that native need, appertaining to the 
 artistic, for finishing all things, even manners and 
 movements, to the last tolerable degree. Violet was 
 self-conscious : and self-consciousness is to be pitied, 
 by this standard, only when the results are unsuccess- 
 ful. When they are striking or original, it is con- 
 demned. And a pose of whatever sort implies under- 
 lying instability. 
 
 Now, challenged by the girl herself, in the very 
 manner they had been disparaging, they were both 
 evidently disturbed, and had to look to their 
 defences. Miss Lennox, blushing but dutiful, took 
 the word. 
 
 " We never had a doubt, my dear," she said, " that 
 you would do your best: or indeed, that your best 
 is very good. The question is really, if it is not 
 too good, — I mean, considering all our circum- 
 stances. I believe," — she smiled timidly in Dr. 
 Ashwin's direction, — " I believe your father is of my 
 opinion, kind though he is about it, really." 
 
loo A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 Violet's father was debarred from prompt reply 
 by a crisis of his disease : his daughter took an unfair 
 advantage of him. 
 
 " Father thinks as I do," she said calmly. " Or at 
 least, he will in an hour's time. You must make 
 allowances for him, Miss Lennox. He is naturally 
 low-spirited to-day, owing to the hay and other 
 causes " 
 
 " Look here, — I won't have it," Claude was heard 
 to articulate. 
 
 " He is almost an invalid," pursued Violet, gather- 
 ing intensity, " and I was perfectly selfish to drag 
 him down in all this dust. I am selfish, — born so, — 
 but he will feel better as soon as we enter the suburbs; 
 and by the time we reach Harley Street he will be 
 completely quite himself." 
 
 " And in your hands completely quite," said Mr. 
 Gibbs. "Well, well, Claude; we all fall a victim 
 to 'em, sooner or later." 
 
 In his heart, turning over his late conversation 
 with the victim of feminine guile, he thanked Provi- 
 dence that Claude, in the prolonged and profound 
 disillusion of his married life, had this child as 
 consolation. Eveleen was grand, no doubt, con- 
 sidered as a social institution; but she was no wife 
 for a man who had any claim to heart. That heart, 
 as soon as conquered, she had starved assiduously, 
 and had come as near as woman can to wrecking that 
 
GLASSWELL ioi 
 
 inner life, of which Mr. Gibbs thought more than 
 of the outer, by nature not profession. Margaret's 
 brother had escaped the sandy shoals of bitterness, 
 he perceived, by one of those tacks of which a 
 supple mind is capable; he was still exploring life 
 with untired curiosity, but the skies, as it were, were 
 changed; and it was that long losing battle for his 
 ideals, in Eveleen's company, that had indubitably 
 changed them. He had abandoned the contest, con- 
 quered creditably, and now sought the ideal else- 
 where : groped for it, the Rector would have said, if 
 anyone could have connected the idea of groping with 
 such as Claude. One of his rescued hopes in that 
 threatened catastrophe he had pinned to Violet ; and 
 though it was a slight one, Mr. Gibbs seemed to see 
 his cautious eye watching it from time to time. She 
 was not a son; but she was a girl of singular spirit. 
 The spirit that died so hard in the Ashwins was 
 revived, as it were, in her. She appeared subtle, 
 but it was no more than a trick of her femininity; for 
 the Rector, who had the natural eye for character it 
 was his wife's pride to have acquired, believed her to 
 be straight. 
 
 Her little speech from his chair, uttered fearlessly 
 before her differing critics, was a thrust straight for 
 the mark, and before he had time to criticise, he ap- 
 plauded it. Withal, it was kind, — like the Ashwins 
 again, — a personal kindness to him; for Violet had 
 
iDLi A LAPV OF LEISURE 
 
 penetrated his anxiety that his wife should be drawn 
 within the family ring, and had had the aptitude to 
 guess that she, her mother's representative, must 
 accomplish it. Till she spoke, the Rector had hardly 
 known his own desire. It was at once acute and 
 sweet, and, remembering Margaret, he could have 
 embraced her in acknowledgment of an effort so 
 worthy of her origin. That it had been an effort he 
 did not doubt, — he had been too near her when she 
 spoke, and had seen her slight hand clench upon 
 the chair. Such as Violet, it may be mentioned, are 
 not allowed to be shy ; but she was shy, as her father 
 was; and the Rector, happily exempt himself from 
 that curse of our society, did full justice to her while 
 his wife was doing half. He could only appeal to 
 that wife with his eyes to clinch the situation, and 
 take her accustomed lead. 
 
 "There is nothing for it," said Mrs. Gibbs, 
 pleasantly enough, "but for Violet to try in the 
 morning for a day or two, if her mother approves, 
 and see how she gets on." 
 
 The Rector's face cleared. " How's that, miss^ " 
 he said. 
 
 " Almost perfect," said Violet tranquilly. " Per- 
 fect, if the mornings I chose had afternoons attached, 
 starting from Tuesday next at nine o'clock, and 
 if Miss Eccles would spare one hour of her valuable 
 time to give me a lesson in machining." 
 
GLASSWELL 103 
 
 Dr. Ashwin's features twisted, and Miss Lennox 
 cleared her throat. Charles made a carefully audible 
 sound of disgust. The Rector, having looked round 
 him, expressed the general feeling. 
 
 " We can't think of you as a machine-maiden," 
 he told her. " An expensive handmaid, if you like." 
 
 " How — wonderfully — clever^" said Violet, 
 dwelling upon him with large eyes. " Was that what 
 you had meant*? " She turned about. 
 
 " I was thinking it out," said Claude. " I should 
 have said it presently." He produced his little 
 engagement-book, and toyed with it suggestively. 
 " Tuesday next is the Eton match," he said. " Had 
 you not promised the Blairs to go down? " 
 
 "Father dear, how feeble," said Violet, in a 
 piteous tone. " Of course I shall explain to Lady 
 Hilda, this evening, in a note." 
 
 "How*?" said nearly everybody. They seemed 
 quite relieved to concentrate forces upon a common 
 point. 
 
 " How I shall explain? " Violet looked at them 
 innocently, one by one. " Well, let me see: I shall 
 begin, dearest Lady Hilda, rather large, — I am 
 hideously sorry to be a broken reed, but, as I am 
 sure you understand, my work claims quite all my 
 time. And, if it was not for the hay. Father might 
 replace me, — since I happen to know he has marked 
 it carefully in his horrid little book. And then a 
 
104 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 little more imbecility, and then that our hearts will 
 be with the dear school always. And a squirly sig- 
 nature, — and Lady Hilda will think it quite all 
 right, because it is just the kind of thing she 
 would have written herself, if she had been in my 
 position." 
 
 " Or if she hadn't," said the Rector. 
 
 " I think," said Violet, " that would be circum- 
 stantial enough not to be classed as a mere excuse." 
 
 " Good Lord, — she is shattering." Mr. Gibbs 
 collapsed in his chair dramatically. " Then you 
 think your smart friends will give you up without a 
 struggle, do you? " he enquired, curling a tendril of 
 her hair. 
 
 " Of course I do," said Violet. " I am only a girl 
 to Lady Hilda, and people of her nature." She 
 thought a little. " Yes: I am probably a ' present- 
 able extra girl,' when she is making up lists with 
 Mr. Blair, since Mother's dressmaker is the same as 
 hers. Father, I am tolerably certain, is a presentable 
 extra man. Several people who live near Windsor 
 are like that — I am sure the poor King can't help 
 it " 
 
 " Stop her," said Claude definitely, putting away 
 his handkerchief and sitting up, " and order the car. 
 On the subject of the Monarchy, she is more than I 
 can bear, in my invalided condition. It is as much 
 as my position is worth to listen to it, really • " 
 
GLASSWELL 105 
 
 " She was only pitying him, Uncle Claude," 
 laughed Margery. 
 
 " That is the form her loyalty takes. She will be 
 pitying him audibly the day she is presented, 
 probably " 
 
 " I shall, indeed," said Violet, with feeling. " All 
 those hours, poor man, — and such quantities of 
 plainish girls." 
 
 " Well, pity me for a change," said the doctor, 
 rising. " Because unless we get off within nine 
 minutes, and you begin your last words instantly, I 
 shall have no time to dress " 
 
 " And will fail even to be presentable," said the 
 Rector. "Lord, lord: how thankful I am that I 
 have not to live up to your standards." 
 
 " The Church are always presentable," Violet 
 consoled him. " All they have to do, is to look 
 benignant. You could walk into a royal death-bed 
 just as you are, — couldn't he, Aunt Henrietta? Or 
 with just a friendly hand to put your tie straight." 
 
 " I should not wonder," said Mrs. Gibbs, rather 
 dismayed to be appealed to on such a subject; for 
 conscientious as she was, neither her imagination nor 
 her humour were equal to a sudden stretch, more 
 especially on Sunday afternoon. She rather won- 
 dered that Arthur tolerated such frivolities; but 
 Arthur's brow was still bland, and his eyes on the 
 girl rather thoughtful. He seemed to be seeing 
 
io6 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 more in her than Mrs. Gibbs' trained eye could see; 
 but then it was true, girls of Violet's stamp had not 
 often stepped her way. She supposed, — her imagi- 
 nation was just equal to it, — that the first Margaret 
 had been something like that; but if it was so, she 
 could not avoid thankfulness that " the girls," — her 
 girls, — resembled Margaret so little. 
 
IX 
 
 THE VISIT CONCLUDES 
 
 " She seems clever," said Mrs. Gibbs to Violet's 
 father when, summoned by the panting of the car, 
 the party moved at last towards the gate. " Have 
 you never thought of sending her to college*? Col- 
 lege life does so much for girls." 
 
 " So they tell me," he replied. He found it hard 
 to talk to Mrs. Gibbs, but screwed out phrases con- 
 scientiously. " I remember my sister enjoyed Newn- 
 ham. That was your college also, was it not^ I 
 went to see her once." 
 
 " Only once*? Surely you were up at the same 
 time*?" 
 
 " Equally up," he said dryly. " I'd have flown to 
 her if I could." He added for her enlightenment. 
 " The North Western service was no joke in those 
 days." 
 
 " Oh, Oxford," said Mrs. Gibbs, still superior. 
 " But — science at Oxford — I thought " 
 
 " I didn't read science," he inserted. Then, re- 
 marking that he had put her out more than he 
 intended, he harked back in a hurry to the former 
 
io8 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 point. " I don't know much of the young person, 
 naturally," he said. " But don't you consider, 
 sometimes, that life in the crowd rather swamps 
 personality? Especially at that age? It is true," 
 he added in haste, " Margaret recovered hers later 
 on; but she was of a firmer constitution altogether." 
 
 " Do you think Violet not strong, then? " said his 
 hostess presently. His rapid tacking in dialogue 
 puzzled her, as it had puzzled many before. He was 
 simply feeling for her level, had she known. 
 
 " There is room for anxiety," he answered 
 evasively, his brow showing the bar. As a rather 
 heavy silence fell between them, he made a new 
 eifort, and said, — " Eveleen calls me fussy," — and 
 then gave her a single glance of his dark eye that 
 seemed appealing. 
 
 Now, Mrs. Gibbs could naturally not imagine that 
 a married physician, with ten to twelve letters after 
 his name, could appeal to her on the subject of the 
 bodily health of his own offspring, — in which we 
 may perhaps admit that she betrayed her ignorance 
 of men and doctors. The result was that the short 
 interview left her confirmed in her impression of the 
 girl's instability; or, as she put it impressively to 
 her husband in their room that night, — that the 
 curse of Reuben shadowed her. 
 
 " But the Ashwins do excel, my dear," expostu- 
 lated the Rector. " That is just where they disturb 
 
GLASSWELL 109 
 
 all application of Biblical judgments. This one 
 excelled the lot of us to-day. Did you observe, the 
 minx came out top in the end, with actually the 
 promise of a ' little note ' from Miss Lennox to- 
 night? Now, I am sure Miss Lennox would never 
 have committed herself as far as that by your 
 advice. Though she is unbusiness-like from birth, 
 she must know the force of such engagements. And 
 if I know anything of the other side, the money 
 will change hands before the week's out. 'A long 
 telegram to Mother ' seems the only necessary 
 formality, — and that is formality simply." 
 
 " I can't countenance it, really," said Mrs. Gibbs, 
 with years of anxious responsibility for others mak- 
 ing lines in her brow. 
 
 " Nor can I, nor Claude, — nor Charles, to judge 
 by appearances. But I imagine Miss will dispense 
 with all our countenances, if necessary." 
 
 " She is wilful," said Mrs. Gibbs. " Spoilt girls 
 are often that." 
 
 " By the way," said the Rector, to turn the sub- 
 ject, " what is her position with Charles, do you 
 suppose*? " 
 
 " I suppose he admires her," said Mrs. Gibbs. 
 " She is not the first." 
 
 "Was Margery the next before*?" asked the 
 Rector, with some natural anxiety. 
 
 " No," said Charles' mother. " I believe we can 
 
no A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 congratulate Margery on her total escape. She in- 
 dulges the boy absurdly, that is all. However," she 
 added soon, " we must try to prevent the girls from 
 making a joke of his attachment to Violet, for that 
 is the way to turn him serious. I happen to know 
 Charles." 
 
 " I wouldn't dispute your knowledge of him," said 
 the Rector. " But I think for that very reason you 
 are hard on him sometimes. As I am still a mere 
 external acquaintance, I like the boy." 
 
 His wife answered nothing, but her face in the 
 glass wore its heaviest lines. 
 
 " My dear," said the Rector, " it simply does not 
 do to take some kinds of young men too seriously. I 
 have been one, and I know. With one's own chil- 
 dren, it is fatal, I was lecturing Claude on exactly 
 that this afternoon. He is absurdly sensitive about 
 Violet, — turns all colours of the rainbow when one 
 suggests she's looking thin. You're the same. You 
 give out to be a strong-minded pillar of your sex, 
 and I took you in faith as such; but on the subject 
 of that fellow downstairs, one could, at any minute, 
 knock you down with a feather." 
 
 " You're scolding me," said Mrs. Gibbs, with the 
 surprised complacency of one who has been driven 
 by circumstances for twenty years to keep the upper 
 hand, and then of her own will yielded up the reins. 
 
 " I am not: I am gracefully expostulating." He 
 
GLASSWELL in 
 
 touched her in passing to a drawer. " You see, I 
 prefer my pillars upright." 
 
 " And now you're flirting," said she, more com- 
 placently still. 
 
 " The way you misuse words," said the Rector. 
 " You ought to go to Violet to learn the language." 
 
 Presently her spirits rose enough to carry the war 
 into the enemy's country. " That young Brading 
 seems to get no farther with Margery," she said. 
 
 " It's uphill work for him," said the Rector. " She 
 gives him nothing but monosyllables, the tiresome 
 hussy. However," he added, more contentedly, 
 " Claude seemed to think it was all right." 
 
 " You mean you consulted him^ " cried Mrs. 
 Gibbs. 
 
 " No. He gave me his opinion. I hadn't even 
 noticed Robert was sweet on her, till he spoke. But 
 Claude has a high opinion of Bob, and he has an old 
 acquaintance with the family. It seems my young 
 gentleman called with a note from his father while 
 she was there in Harley Street, and Claude told him 
 the maidens were engaged. He's a proper chaperon 
 now, isn't he? " The Rector beamed. 
 
 " Perhaps he thought it was Violet," said Mrs. 
 Gibbs. 
 
 "No, he didn't; he made sure it was Margery, 
 though how, I forget. His unmanly subtleties are 
 beyond me. I should say," added the Rector, turn- 
 
112 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 ing absent, " that between the pair of them, they'll 
 marry Violet well." 
 
 " The Ash wins? I should hope so, — if they get 
 her off their hands at all. That's what I wouldn't be 
 sure of." 
 
 " Wouldn't you*? " thought the Rector; and pon- 
 dered on the subject of maternal jealousy; for he 
 knew Henrietta's real feelings to Charles. 
 
 " Eveleen's got a French marquee for Violet up 
 her sleeve," he observed, with another effort to be 
 worldly, after an interval. 
 
 " Good gracious, — poor girl I " said Mrs. Gibbs, 
 with such genuine and heartfelt fervour, that it put 
 an end to the conversation. 
 
 As a matter of fact, Violet did not talk at all to 
 her father on the way to London; for he was in a 
 hurry, and chose to drive. 
 
 He explained to his chauffeur that he was used 
 to the cross-roads in that part of the country, but 
 the chauffeur, though he accepted the excuse, knew 
 better. Dr. Ashwin kept his servants up to the 
 mark by habitually excelling them in their special 
 lines. In the rush of the season he out-worked his 
 secretary, out-talked his counsel when he went to 
 law, and entirely out-manoeuvred the agent of his 
 country estate. He drove quite as well as the expert 
 he employed, and with far more studied reckless- 
 
GLASSWELL 113 
 
 ness; and he had only brought him upon the Glass- 
 well expedition because he had ladies, — that is, his 
 niece and daughter, — to entertain. 
 
 Violet was well used to his pretensions, and saw 
 him mount in front of her without much surprise. 
 She merely exchanged a large-eyed look of sympathy 
 with the ousted professional, when he came round, 
 according to directions, to tuck her comfortably into 
 her seat behind. 
 
 " Does he mean to scorch, Joliffe^ " she said in her 
 plaintive tone. 
 
 " Short time, miss," said Joliffe. " So I under- 
 stand." 
 
 " Well, it's not my fault this time," said Violet. 
 " All the last words were his. Please tell the police 
 that, if necessary." 
 
 " I'll see to it," said Joliffe, with exquisite pro- 
 priety. " Tou'll be all right. Miss Violet. Nothing 
 further, is there*? " 
 
 Violet thanked him, and subsided among her 
 cushions and rugs. It was noticeable that neither she 
 nor Joliffe thought of an accident, — merely of the 
 police. Accidents did not figure in those situations 
 of which " the doctor," had control. Lofty, impene- 
 trable, feminine security hedged about Violet, with 
 those two determined and devoted figures on the seat 
 before her. For all her emotional inward sufferings, 
 she was accustomed in life to such security. 
 
114 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 Only one hitch in their journey actually occurred, 
 and that was near the outset. Turning the second 
 of the sharp angles in the road leading out of the 
 village to the highway, the party encountered a 
 man. He was a tall man, very well and quietly 
 dressed, who had stopped in the middle of the road 
 to whistle to a large black dog. At Dr. Ashwin's 
 peremptory warning, the dog hurried out of the way ; 
 but the man did not move instantly; and when he 
 did, was only just beyond reach of the wheels in time. 
 It was a sharply anxious moment for all parties, till 
 they saw him safe. 
 
 " The d — d fool ! " ejaculated JolifEe at the cru- 
 cial moment, moved out of his stately calm. Claude 
 merely grimaced viciously as the car shot by. As 
 for the man, he stood on the pathway, gazing after 
 it in dignified reproach, and holding his dog, a pre- 
 caution which, as a mere glance at the animal showed, 
 was quite unnecessary. 
 
 Having passed without mishap. Dr. Ashwin 
 slackened at once, and turned round to his daughter. 
 Violet had half risen from her seat, and was gazing 
 backward along the road, her loosened veils fluttering 
 behind her. 
 
 " No harm done," her father called to her. 
 
 " It isn't that,'' Violet called back, a note of strong 
 emotion in her tone. 
 
 " Good," said her father, and resumed the pace. 
 
GLASS WELL 115 
 
 Presently the man beside him ventured on a re- 
 mark, for the figure on the pathway had impressed 
 him at a second scrutiny. 
 
 " Near thing, sir," he suggested. 
 
 " Saved his skin that time," said the doctor lightly. 
 
 " Gentlemen should know better," said Joliife. 
 
 "Gentlemen should," his master agreed; and 
 Joliffe, glancing at him, surprised a smile upon his 
 face. It was a relief to his conscientious mind; for 
 he was more than a little afraid of " the doctor"; 
 and if it really was a gentleman his master had 
 so nearly killed, Joliffe had used an unguarded 
 adjective. 
 
 " Will you tell your poor Gardener," Violet wrote 
 to Margery, " I am very sorry that Father frightened 
 him in the road. And since I am sure he is not the 
 kind of person to boast of it, I had better mention he 
 saved Erasmus from a viole^it death. I am not the 
 least surprised, knowing what dear Erasmus is to 
 you all, that he (Peacock) looked absolute Daggers 
 at Father, whose carelessness is rapidly becoming 
 proverbial, and will certainly culminate in Trans- 
 portation for someone, though probably not for him. 
 The criminal's identity was Masked; but I called 
 out to Peacock how sorry I was, and I believe 
 Joliffe did too. And if P. did take our number in his 
 natural resentment, ask him for the Family's sake, 
 
ii6 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 darling, not to prosecute. I hope he did not have to 
 trample on Erasmus's dear toes. The bridge of his 
 nose (P.'s) is a dream, as Charles observed, and the 
 way his hair grows at the side a Revelation. You 
 must simply do his portrait for the Pastellists in 
 October, or never more call me friend. 
 
 " Yours, very lonely without you, 
 
 " V. L A." 
 
PART II 
 LENNOXES 
 
'» -~-«lti'iii^ 
 
THE STICKING-PLACE 
 
 Mrs. Claude Ashwin arrived at Victoria, some six 
 days later than the date first indicated to her house- 
 hold, with two gentlemen in attendance, one of whom 
 was French. 
 
 " Oh, my husband seems to be there," she men- 
 tioned as the train drew up; and disappointment 
 overspread the Frenchman's countenance, though 
 the Englishman's was blank. They could only vie 
 with one another to extract her smaller baggage 
 from the train, and even so she did not thank them, 
 being occupied in mentioning a few intensely im- 
 portant particulars concerning the larger trunks' 
 contents to her husband's private ear. The doctor 
 was a stranger to the younger of the pair of escorts, 
 though the other seemed to know him slightly. He 
 received, on the part of the foreigner, a very pene- 
 trating scrutiny, to which, though he knew precisely 
 what it portended, it would have been impossible 
 for man to appear more indifferent. 
 
 " There," said Eveleen, when all the men, porters 
 included, had finished skirmishing about her, and 
 
120 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 calm was restored, — " I meant to introduce you to 
 M. de Fervolles, but he seems to have disappeared." 
 She appeared barely to regret the oversight. 
 
 " I daresay he will turn up within the week," said 
 Claude. " Did you give him your address? " 
 
 " Good gracious no," said Eveleen. " He can find 
 it if he wants to. He knows London as well as you 
 do," she added. 
 
 " His English ought to be better then," said 
 Claude. 
 
 " Oh well, — I said you would speak French if he 
 wanted." Mrs. Ashwin settled back in the carriage, 
 her fine eyes following the familiar movement of the 
 London streets. " He plays billiards," she added, to 
 help matters a little. 
 
 Her husband laughed, which put her out. She had 
 saved this last fact carefully, as likely to appeal 
 to Claude, if he chose to be disagreeable on the 
 subject of the Marquis de Fervolles. He did not 
 seem exactly disagreeable, and he was always 
 attentive, but he never behaved quite as Eveleen 
 expected. 
 
 Her only reply to the misplaced laugh was slightly 
 to roll out her lower lip, a facial trick of hers that 
 became her. Eveleen had never been called pretty, 
 or even charming, and people only used the word 
 beautiful about her doubtfully. That is, people in 
 London did. Other societies across the Channel 
 
LENNOXES 121 
 
 were prodigal of discriminating epithets, never less 
 than appreciative. The Transatlantic hit the mark 
 still more simply with the epithet " stunning," which 
 certainly suited her best of all. Since nature had 
 made her stunning, Mrs. Ashwin did not put herself 
 out much to improve on it, except by devoting a 
 certain portion of her attention to matters of dress. 
 And even that portion was barely necessary, if one 
 made arrangements to pass through the " right 
 places " in Paris twice a year. Choosing, in those 
 temples of taste, was fortunately superfluous; one 
 merely had to show oneself, and approve, — or dis- 
 approve, — according to the circumstances. The 
 " right places " delighted in Eveleen, and Eveleen 
 was made for them. Even her thrift amused the 
 officiating priests within them: for she frequently 
 emerged with all she wanted, and having spent half 
 as much as her less contented friends. This time 
 she had been economical, as she told Claude when 
 he remarked on the contents of her purse. He 
 would never have asked to see them, of course, but 
 that the car happened to pass a convenient office, 
 and she gave him her money to change. 
 
 " A pound of that is de Fervolles'," she observed 
 carelessly. " You might remind me when I see him : 
 or pay him yourself." 
 
 " Right," said Claude, and went about her busi- 
 ness. She leant back in the car, looking at the street, 
 
122 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 and a certain contentment crept over her face. When 
 he returned, she had a smile for him. 
 
 " It's rather nice to be back, you know," she ex- 
 plained it. " There's nowhere like London, really." 
 
 " You come to it fresh," said he. " That's right, 
 Joliffe, — home." 
 
 " Are you tired"? " said Eveleen, after an interval, 
 with a glance at his face, which she had hardly yet 
 observed. 
 
 " No; but the season is, rather," he said. " If I 
 were you, I should get out of it soon. There are 
 loads of invitations." 
 
 " Yours or mine? " 
 
 " Both," he answered gravely. " You can choose." 
 
 She considered a little, her lip rolled slightly. 
 " Have you answered any of them? " 
 
 " No. I waited for directions." 
 
 " Well, I have no wish to move. I am particularly 
 well, as it happens." 
 
 His eyes had already told him that, and it was 
 inconceivable for Evie to be otherwise; yet the saying 
 relieved his mind, for it was a sign of her general 
 satisfaction with life, and he asked no more than to 
 satisfy her. He still held her money absently and 
 was only reminded when she extended her hand. 
 
 " I have saved all that," she said complacently, 
 when he poured the gold into her glove. She closed 
 
LENNOXES 123 
 
 her hand upon it, considering. " I wish there was a 
 decent dressmaker in London," she said. 
 
 Her serenity was so perfect that he asked — 
 " Ideally or practically *? " 
 
 " I want her," said Eveleen simply. " They make 
 in Paris, they don't make over. I shan't touch those 
 new things till the autumn, naturally," she pursued. 
 
 " Aren't we worthy of them*? " he protested. 
 
 " No." She fixed him with her fine eyes. " Per- 
 haps, if de Fervolles dined with us — but even so 
 " Diverting her eyes, she pondered. 
 
 " Isn't that girl you have any good'? " said Claude, 
 after an interval of consideration on his side. 
 " Where is she, by the way*? " 
 
 " Leon tine? She's not bad. She stopped behind 
 at Argenteuil with her ridiculous family." 
 
 " Good gracious I Why"? " He was roused, for he 
 minded much more than she did the machinery of 
 the house being disturbed. 
 
 " Oh, she seemed seedy one day, and was useless, 
 so I let her go to them. I couldn't be bothered. 
 She developed something — what did they call it 
 
 ? " He had made an anxious movement, and, 
 
 playing with him as a cat plays, she feigned to forget 
 the word. " Fluxion, that's it. I've no notion what 
 it means, but I supposed it was not infectious, or they 
 would have told me." 
 
124 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " No," he simply said. 
 
 After a pause in the half-light, she laughed softly. 
 " Frightened, weren't you, Claude," she said. " Was 
 it for me, or Violet*? " 
 
 She still got no answer, so, with something the 
 annoyance of a feline at such neglect, she held her 
 wrist to him. 
 
 " Feel it, do," she invited. " Sometimes it amuses 
 me." 
 
 She meant his physician's manner; and, obedient 
 to the challenge, he felt her velvet wrist. Eveleen 
 knew, by the touch of his fingers, for all their com- 
 posed, accustomed movements, that he was still her 
 helpless prey. Why she had chosen to enslave him, 
 she could hardly say, — or perhaps, she had forgotten. 
 It might have been because he was one of the men 
 who have no natural taste to be enslaved, and who 
 would have been quite content in studious solitude 
 unmated. He had been on the edge of slipping from 
 the struggle when Eveleen found him, with all his 
 laurels, University and otherwise, still unfaded at 
 his feet. This would have been a thousand pities, 
 since his brains were of the kind that have a market 
 value. So Eveleen married, and employed him in 
 her interest, not to mention the world's, with quite 
 remarkable success. Society should certainly have 
 been grateful to her, and doubtless was; at least, 
 society talked of him freely, flocked to his door, gilt 
 
LENNOXES 125 
 
 his doorstep in the usual manner in the mornings, 
 and not infrequently, during the afternoon, fell in 
 love with his wife. 
 
 Eveleen's judgment in material things was sure, 
 and she had never been tempted to regret the step she 
 had taken in marrying him, though it had been con- 
 sidered a throw so risky as to verge on the romantic, 
 by her more sober advisers. She had her choice of 
 titles even then, — but what are titles, seriously 
 regarded*? They save little trouble in life, and not 
 uncommonly add to it. Claude saved her trouble in 
 all directions, diverted her in her duller intervals, 
 and was most creditable and convenient. A whole 
 group of people in the Olympian upper walks of Lon- 
 don society, undoubtedly superior, and traditionally 
 rather inattentive to feminine charms, smiled upon 
 Eveleen because of Claude. He was well-derived 
 too, as she had discovered with surprise since her 
 marriage, and had family records to show of which 
 no one adopting the name need be ashamed. Eveleen, 
 in short, rather plumed herself on the alliance as 
 time went on, and her discontented connections, very 
 wisely, shut their mouths, and allowed its accustomed 
 meed to her flair and foresight. 
 
 She liked to tease Claude occasionally, of course; 
 teasing a clever man is so amusing. She had sus- 
 pected, by various accounts not his own, that he 
 had enjoyed his bachelorhood of late; whereas she, 
 
126 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 in the tiresome business of the maid, had actually 
 felt the want of him. She intended therefore to 
 revenge herself a little, before they settled into their 
 peculiar partnership again. He was tired to-night, 
 which made his emotions the easier to play upon. 
 
 She had touched the emotion by the mention of 
 his daughter's name, and he merely waited her 
 pleasure to reach that subject. It was bound to 
 come; for, though Eveleen envisaged circumstances 
 slowly, she had now had nearly a week to take in 
 the elaborate telegram he and his daughter in collu- 
 sion had despatched. 
 
 It came at last. " How's Violet? " said Eveleen, 
 on the tail of a slight yawn, as they were nipped in 
 the nightly traffic of Bond Street, and their lordly 
 course delayed. 
 
 " She is as usual," said Claude. " She was dis- 
 appointed not to hear from you." 
 
 "Oh, of course, I supposed it was all right; that 
 you would see to it, I mean. Girls are like that 
 nowadays," she added, looking out. 
 
 " Not all of them," he retorted. 
 
 " The majority. Violet is not the least singular, 
 really; she only requires to be thought so." A pause. 
 " I daresay you indulged her," said Eveleen. 
 
 " In thinking that? I do think her singular, yes. 
 There is only one of her in the world." 
 
 " Claude, I won't have it," she said sharply. She 
 
LENNOXES 127 
 
 alluded to his " sleep-walking " tone, to which she 
 objected even more than Margery Gibbs. She had 
 said so more than once. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," he said, waking. " We will 
 talk things over this evening. The child is longing 
 to start." 
 
 " Has she not started *? The telegram said Tues- 
 day." 
 
 " It also said, she was waiting for your consent." 
 
 " My silence was consent, I suppose." 
 
 " I supposed that too. But you must have known 
 she would not accept it as such. She wants the 
 maternal signature." 
 
 Eveleen laughed again. " Well, who made her a 
 tiresome little prude ^ — I didn't," she said lazily. 
 
 " That means you sign, then? " he pressed her 
 swiftly: too swiftly a little, and as though aware 
 of the pressure, she drew in her feelers at once. 
 
 " You are never really ' rasant,' " she observed, 
 "except on this one subject. What does it matter 
 if I sign, as you call it, or not? She'll do it all the 
 same." 
 
 He left it there, with the expert's instinct, and 
 let her turn the subject to trivialities. Though he 
 never confessed it to himself, he knew Eveleen's 
 mind through and through, and managed it perfectly, 
 allowing unconsciously for a certain absolute slow- 
 ness it had in grasping new material. The news of 
 
128 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 Violet's mild revolt might even possibly have shocked 
 her, and she be unwilling to betray the emotion. He 
 watched for such natural stirring in his wife, as he 
 would have watched for muscular movement in a 
 paralysed patient; but as yet she would not even 
 show annoyance. She looked about her with 
 untroubled eyes, and saw the world to which she 
 was accustomed. He admired, as often before, that 
 splendid healthy impassivity, a quality of the gods, 
 taking all and giving nothing, letting others grope 
 and batter themselves against its rock-like front in 
 vain. 
 
 Gnce in youth, during a phase of classical re- 
 searches, Violet had asked him what Helen of Troy 
 was really like; and he had replied unhesitatingly, 
 " Like your mother." Then he had regretted it, for 
 the twelve-year-old child had looked at him, without 
 replying, and with a certain delicate reproach. 
 
 Violet was waiting for them now, when they 
 reached the house. Graceful as usual, and consid- 
 erate of people's tastes, she made no disturbance. 
 She dawned like a white spirit on the background 
 of the hall as her mother entered, and greeted her 
 with decorum. Eveleen kissed her placidly, touch- 
 ing with approbation the arrangement of her hair. 
 She did not really object to Violet, who took the 
 post provided for her on the stage of her mother's 
 social success with discretion, and filled it adroitly; 
 
LENNOXES 129 
 
 or, to put it more in Eveleen's manner, who gener- 
 ally looked nice in the right places. 
 
 " Dinner is at eight-fifteen," observed Violet. " I 
 hope that will give you time'? " She seemed earnest 
 and anxious, as a good hostess might have seemed. 
 
 Violet on her side did not dislike her mother, 
 unless in passing flashes, when her father was badly 
 worried: but from the age of ten years she had 
 despised her tranquilly. She never gave Eveleen the 
 slightest indication of this attitude, for she obeyed 
 her with attention, and addressed her with the same 
 plaintive politeness she showed to all the world. She 
 would have been horrified if anyone had accused her 
 of deceit, but her precocious pent-up wits were natu- 
 rally subtle, and she had hitherto deceived her mother 
 as easily as she had circumvented her father: the 
 isolation that resulted forming her private tragedy. 
 It was a genuine tragedy enough, for a child of her 
 age, and had comprised for a sensitive child, seasons 
 of very genuine suffering; but of late years, as she 
 thrust the childhood she disdained behind her, her 
 acquaintance, rapidly growing, with her father's 
 mind, and his unfailing care and tenderness for her, 
 mind and body, had made isolation far more 
 tolerable, to say the least. 
 
 At present she was merely anxious for the credit 
 of her housekeeping, and trusted she had allowed her 
 mother time to dress. 
 
130 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " Is anyone coming? " said Eveleen, picking up a 
 letter or two. 
 
 " Only one of Violet's old men," said Claude, as 
 he hung up his coat. " Lucas Warden." 
 
 " I thought you would like a fourth," deprecated 
 Violet. " And Mr. Warden is harmless. Besides, he 
 can play billiards: at least, Father says he does to 
 practice on, faute de mieux.'" 
 
 " Is he listening*? " enquired Eveleen, glancing 
 through the letter she had picked up. Her expressive 
 lip had rolled out slightly. 
 
 " I left him in the drawing-room," said Violet. 
 " The door is shut." 
 
 " Then I won't have billiards to-night," said the 
 mistress of the house. 
 
 " Mr. Warden will be thankful," said Violet 
 gravely. She glanced at her father, half in sympa- 
 thy, half challenging him to resist. He did not 
 always resist, she considered, sufficiently; though he 
 was quite capable, at need, of overturning such petty 
 tyranny. 
 
 " We have weighty matters to discuss," he said, 
 putting his hand behind her hair. It was exactly 
 the same gesture that his wife had made, but Violet 
 felt the difference. 
 
 " Oh ! " Her brows went up. " Then shall I tell 
 Mr. Warden he is de trop? I quite thought Mother 
 would be too tired to-night." 
 
LENNOXES 131 
 
 " I am not the least tired, child," said Eveleen, 
 frowning slightly. Any hint of managing her 
 brought that frown, and Violet sometimes betrayed 
 a slightly spinsterish gift of management. As to 
 her daughter's " old men," she had no objection to 
 them; especially to the present one, a gay bachelor 
 publisher of forty-nine, a frequent habitue of the 
 house, and an avowed admirer of her own. She 
 was, however, jealous of Claude's billiards, as of 
 most of the keen interests that caught or claimed 
 his passing attention; and she had not the least 
 desire for a tete-a-tete with the "child," who in- 
 herited the tiresome tongue of her father's family, 
 and might very probably dodge or defeat her, if she 
 summoned no men to her support. For this reason 
 Eveleen gathered the men, her accustomed phalanx, 
 about her, during the meal and afterwards; pro- 
 longing her sojourn in the dining-room with her 
 usual grand deliberation in pursuit of her private 
 aims; and had no difficulty in holding their atten- 
 tion, whether she talked or not. 
 
 But she had not reckoned with Violet's resources. 
 Violet had on her own part summoned Mr. Lucas 
 Warden, gaily surnamed her god-papa, to her service 
 in advance. Plotting was rife at all times in Mrs. 
 Ashwin's household; her presence seemed to inspire 
 it. Mr. Warden knew all the circumstances in this 
 instance, and was immensely tickled by them. The 
 
132 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 idea of Violet pretending to be a working-woman 
 was amusing to begin with ; the idea of her outfacing 
 her mother with such a preposterous proposal was 
 more delicious still ; and the idea of her demanding 
 his collaboration in these projects was the best joke 
 of all. Mr. Warden, an agreeable gamboller along 
 the paths of life, took life's duties in general very 
 easily; but he found he had to disturb himself 
 seriously in Miss Ashwin's interest, before the end of 
 the meal. 
 
 Old or " oldish " men invariably liked Violet, and 
 in quite early youth she had owned a small circle of 
 such. Mr. Warden was her own friend, appropriated 
 to herself by ingenious effort as follows. 
 
 He had first fallen under her notice when he had 
 been kind enough, at the instance of the lady who 
 taught them, to show her and four friends, at the 
 age of fifteen, round the collections in the British 
 Museum. Greek art had not till then occupied Miss 
 Ashwin's attention; but in its new connection with 
 Mr. Warden's grey curls, brusque movements, wide 
 sweet smile, and pleasant fashion of answering you 
 seriously when you least expected it, — Greek art 
 became a thing to be assimilated, first-hand and as 
 rapidly as possible. 
 
 So Violet assimilated, ravaging the shelves of her 
 father's library when he was out, and complaining 
 
LENNOXES 133 
 
 bitterly to the servants of the dust which was thus 
 transferred from the volumes to her hands. Having 
 cut the pages of the cleanest book with a silver 
 knife, read an introductory chapter, and looked at 
 all the illustrations, she put the volume aside, shut 
 her lips, and wrote out a list of questions in a care- 
 ful round hand. This she took the earliest oppor- 
 tunity of laying before her father's eyes. 
 
 " I expect you really know," she told him, " if you 
 consider a little. You have been twice to Athens, 
 and anyhow boys always learn those things at 
 school." 
 
 Dr. Ashwin continued writing in a black notebook 
 with a vulgar shining cover which was Violet's enemy, 
 and said he required notice of the question. 
 
 " You are not considering," said Violet reproach- 
 fully. " You think I am teasing as usual, instead of 
 trying, in the teeth of opportunity, to learn. If I 
 have chosen the wrong minute, you know you have 
 only to tell me so." 
 
 The elaboration of this, together with its neat 
 utterance, suited Claude's taste exactly. He turned 
 to her, apologised, offered her his whole attention for 
 two minutes, gave her half her answers with 
 decision, and admitted his ignorance of the rest. 
 
 " But if it's serious. Puss," he added, " I will write 
 to Warden. He's the best man I can think of on 
 the spur of the moment." 
 
134 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 Violet coloured with pleasure at this unexpected 
 coincidence, and, though she thanked her father 
 gravely, never betrayed it was exactly what she 
 wanted. Claude, who had known Lucas Warden 
 slightly in college days, revived the acquaintance 
 at their common club without difficulty, during one 
 of his " odd moments " ; and Violet, with even less 
 delay, cemented the connection. 
 
 " Father's so absurdly busy, you know," she told 
 him, " and I am always wanting to know things. I 
 hope you don't object to bothering." 
 
 Lucas Warden was far from objecting; indeed, 
 few men of approaching fifty could have resisted 
 Violet Ashwin at fifteen. When they did not see 
 one another, they corresponded solemnly. Violet 
 possessed a genuine gift for the literary letter, which 
 would not have escaped notice and appreciation in 
 the days of her great-grandmother, and which, like 
 her manner of talking, sent Mr. Warden off his grey- 
 curled head with delight. Among her own gen- 
 eration, which admired bluntness, her studied speech 
 was noted by girls as " mincing," and had a marked 
 power to scare and outrage all mankind under thirty 
 years. Only men already comfortably launched be- 
 yond the forties seemed to enjoy these flowers of 
 utterance, as they fell from Violet's lips; men such 
 as her father, her Uncle Arthur, and Mr. Warden 
 above all. 
 
LENNOXES 135 
 
 The publisher, who, compared with the doctor, 
 seemed to have a singular number of odd and other 
 times to spare, invited himself often to his old friend 
 Ash win's house, found him a less stilted fellow than 
 he recollected, his dinners admirable, his wife a 
 picture, and his daughter a mine of innocent diver- 
 sion. Violet was quite impossible, he told Ashwin 
 in his gay manner, and only to be met with in books. 
 She spoke in print, and moved in half-tone pictures. 
 She was perfect natural refreshment from the obvious 
 " vital " girl imposed by the age. She was civilised, 
 sophisticated, attenuated, new to art. She was her 
 own discovery, re-discovery rather. She must have 
 looked herself up in the back of the book-shelves. 
 Mr. Warden was, in fact, as enthusiastic on his side 
 as his " god-daughter " was on hers. And the absurd 
 appearance they presented together, and the serious 
 partnership they professed, diverted Claude contin- 
 ually, though it seemed rather to annoy his wife. 
 
 \ 
 
II 
 
 ENTER MISS ECCLES 
 
 Violet sat now at the head of the table, for her 
 mother abdicated calmly, preferring to face the 
 guest, with whom she also almost exclusively con- 
 versed. Having registered the introduction of Mr. 
 Warden into her social scheme as a success, Violet 
 as housekeeper had no further doubts, for the cook 
 was perfect, and a little earnest talk with that func- 
 tionary at an early hour had provided for a faultless 
 meal. She listened to the talk, helping herself at 
 languid intervals to food, and smiling slightly at her 
 father now and then. 
 
 Dr. Ashwin, though he inserted a few words in the 
 dialogue whenever Warden, in the character of the 
 lady's man, became too provocatively silly, was 
 'rather silent too, and took in Violet across the table 
 very thoroughly, in an occasional piercing glance. 
 He trusted she was not so unhappy as she appeared. 
 That air of yearning misery she had at times, he 
 told himself, was merely a trick of her face in repose, 
 a chance interplay of pensive lashes and drooping 
 lips. He supposed, since his wife told him so, she 
 
LENNOXES 137 
 
 was not pretty, but he liked her appearance. Her 
 forehead and eyes were Margaret's. There was 
 nothing classical in her features, but there was 
 something pleasing, — vaguely wild amid her sur- 
 roundings of solid comfort. Claude tried conscien- 
 tiously at moments to lay aside all pre-disposition in 
 the case of Violet, and see her through the eyes of 
 other and younger men. He quite thought some- 
 times he had accomplished it, but he never did. 
 
 Violet, who had been convinced for whole days 
 of despair that she was hideous, and only returned to 
 temporary life when her hat was a success, or some 
 stranger looked twice at her with the eye of approba- 
 tion, felt the reassurance of her father's eyes upon 
 her now. His taste, after all, was to be trusted. She 
 drooped less and came to life as the meal went on. 
 Lucas Warden had been gambolling idly for Eve- 
 leen's benefit, and enjoying an unusually free field. 
 Violet began to slide dry little sallies into the con- 
 versation, and give him the provocation he needed 
 to produce his best retorts. Claudr, also turning his 
 attention that way, discouraged Lucas's conclusions 
 systematically, and discounted his statements ; until, 
 thus prodded by both, Mr. Warden began to drive his 
 hair up with his fingers and roll his eyes at them in 
 turn, as though recollecting that something was ex- 
 pected of him that he had half forgotten, in the 
 lustre of Mrs. Ashwin's transcendent neighbourhood. 
 
138 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " Won't that do*? " he enquired of Violet in a 
 pause, having finished a particularly neat sentence. 
 
 " Yes," said Violet, as though summing up his 
 conversational efforts, " that will about do. Now 
 suppose we drop literature, and talk geography. 
 Mother likes it just as well. They may smoke, I 
 suppose. Mother, mayn't they*? " 
 
 " Goodness yes," said Eveleen, rousing. " I've 
 only my old clothes." 
 
 " They have been waiting to be reassured, poor 
 dears," said Violet. " Because they can't be expected 
 to know, can they*? Mr. V^arden can date anything 
 up to the second century, but in the latter years of 
 our era, he is quite at sea." 
 
 " I can't date you, I told your father so," said 
 Warden. " All I am sure of is, you're out of date." 
 
 "An anachronism^" said Violet. "Oh, thank 
 you: how nice it feels. Well, now, to turn to 
 geography. It may be news to you. Father, that 
 Mr. Warden and I, being both for different reasons 
 out of work, went exploring to-day." 
 
 " I wasn't out of work," interposed Warden. " I 
 had loads, but I neglected it." 
 
 "Where did you explored " said Claude. " Not 
 to the City again"? I thought you said you had fin- 
 ished the churches. Warden." 
 
 " So we have. Strictly speaking, your daughter 
 now knows her native town. To-day we went afield, 
 
LENNOXES 139 
 
 to the neighbouring villages." Mr. Warden, now 
 smoking happily, waved a hand. 
 
 " We discovered Battersea," said Violet gently. 
 " Do you know where Battersea is, Mother dear*? " 
 
 " It's a pretty little place," Lucas murmured. 
 
 " I have seen the name written," said Eveleen, 
 with deliberation. 
 
 " On a telegram? " Violet leant forward. " And 
 before that on buses'? Well, that was exactly the 
 extent of my own knowledge also. But first Uncle 
 Arthur, and then Miss Lennox, and then Mr. 
 Warden, stimulated my imagination to such an ex- 
 tent, that we took one of the buses to-day, and pushed 
 on — until we found it." 
 
 " Why not the carriage *? " said Eveleen. 
 
 " Oh, — because a well-known society doctor 
 was monopolising it; and we thought his researches 
 might be more important than ours. Besides, a 
 yellow omnibus is quite delicious, really." 
 
 " I assure you, I never knew of the plan till this 
 minute, Evie," said Claude. " Or I'd have taken 
 steps." 
 
 " As it was, we took them," said Warden. " I've 
 not walked so much for years. The village, if re- 
 mote, is extensive, unluckily." 
 
 " I took great care of Mr. Warden," said Violet. 
 " Except just crossing the bridge, when the view was 
 really so wonderful that I forgot him." 
 
140 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " The river Thames," Warden struck in, " beyond 
 which Battersea — er — nestles, — came quite as a 
 surprise to Miss Violet. Yet I pointed out it flows 
 in sight of our town, and I had even hinted there 
 was another side to it. On either side the river, I 
 told her, lie the broad bus routes to Peckham Rye 
 
 " You did not," said Violet. " You said there was 
 nothing to look at that way worth a twopenny fare." 
 
 " Well, you proved there was," said Lucas. " I 
 admit that. Good gracious," — he combed his curls 
 gently, — " I can't get over that girl." 
 
 "Girl^" said Eveleen, stirring. "Was it girls 
 you went exploring for, then^ " 
 
 " Not a bit of it, Mrs. Ashwin, on my word. I 
 shut my eyes, and let Miss Violet call the tune. Her 
 erratic impulses seemed to have a guiding star some- 
 where unseen, and, though she walked me off my legs, 
 and consulted any number of policemen, I trusted 
 her blindly. Result: I turned up an old friend, 
 and as pretty a girl as you could see on a summer's 
 day. And weren't they fighting just," he added to 
 Violet. " Oh no. For all their subsequent civility 
 to us, the fur had been flying about that room. I saw 
 little bits of it, lying round." 
 
 " Oh dear me," said Violet bitterly, " how badly 
 you tell a story. I wish I had not left it to you. I 
 don't wonder poor Mother looks harassed, fol- 
 
LENNOXES 141 
 
 lowing." The staid tranquillity of Mrs. Ashwin's 
 face was so perfect that, before he could prevent him- 
 self, Lucas threw back his head and laughed. 
 
 " Miss Lennox," said Violet, " the same that wants 
 me to join her on Monday next, is a dear old friend 
 of Mr. Warden's, Mother dear: a friend of his youth- 
 ful days. He says she kindled a flame he yet de- 
 plores, but I notice he says that of most people whose 
 back histories I am not likely to know about. He 
 must have been terribly — what's the word? — in- 
 flammable." 
 
 " I was, — and am," said Lucas. 
 
 " He's proud of it," said Violet. " But I feel for 
 the other side. It must be such nervous work kindling 
 rather large men unexpectedly. Hateful, I should 
 think, — if true. Now, I propose myself to tell you 
 the tale " 
 
 " Right," said Warden, " and I'll interrupt you 
 with impertinence. Off you go." 
 
 "Well, I don't know at all what Mr. Warden 
 means by an atmosphere of warfare in the room, 
 for they were perfectly sweet to us, both ot them, 
 considering we interrupted their morning's work most 
 terribly. Well, they were working, Mr. Warden, 
 — yards of it. Untidy it might be called a little, but 
 Miss Eccles rolled everything up before Miss Lennox 
 had finished explaining they were not prepared for 
 visitors. I entreated not to be visitors. I said, I only 
 
142 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 knew how she must be feeling about this absurd 
 delay, which will happen when people are traveling; 
 and that the least I could do was to call and explain, 
 — which was obvious. And then Mr. Warden 
 remembered her suddenly, — I suppose he had been 
 pondering which she M^as, — and they said sweet 
 nothings about their early life. And in the interval 
 I went to the window. And while I stood there, 
 trying hard to remember a verse of Henley's, and 
 astounded at the multiplicity of chimneys ingen- 
 iously fitted in to take up every inch of sky, and 
 so prevent dressmakers earning the salaries they 
 deserve " 
 
 " I seldom cavil at your style," said Warden. 
 " But that sentence is too long." 
 
 " It's my strong feelings," said Violet, slightly 
 flushed. " F lease do not interrupt me. While I 
 stood there drinking in the chimneys, — I heard Miss 
 Eccles snifF." 
 
 " Sniff, or sigh"? " enquired Claude. " It's not the 
 same." 
 
 " Sniff, Father dear. The sound that means the 
 most compassionate kind of contempt, for circum- 
 stances or for people you can't help." 
 
 " What was the circumstance in this instance, — 
 you*? " 
 
 " I could not be sure, of course. But it interested 
 me at once. You see, till that moment I had only 
 
LENNOXES 143 
 
 thought Miss Eccles was the ordinary kind of person 
 in black, with a waist," said Violet. 
 
 " Had you"? " said Lucas Warden. 
 
 " Yes." She turned on him in a flash. " Because 
 I am a woman. Mother will tell you the same thing. 
 Ev^erywhere we go, in shops and theatres and tea- 
 places, waisted people in black go sliding about. 
 Often when you look at them by chance they are 
 lovely, and that was the case to-day. I simply had 
 not thought of looking at her." 
 
 " I can give you a better reason for the neglect," 
 said Warden. " She kept her back turned con- 
 tinuously." 
 
 " And who wonders? " said Violet warmly. " She 
 feels me an abominable intruder, and suspects me of 
 snatching at her well-earned gains. She feels I am 
 an amateur — highly-skilled people always do, — 
 and she knows Miss Lennox is unfairly prejudiced 
 in my favour, by no virtue of mine, but because of 
 Father's beautiful behaviour to her at the Gibbs's 
 party." Eveleen's fine eyes turned in Claude's 
 direction, and he feared an interruption; but Violet 
 skimmed on. 
 
 " Ladies' pretensions in trade must necessarily 
 seem to her ridiculous, and exasperation with Miss 
 Lennox all this year must have been her daily bread. 
 As for Mr. Warden," — she turned to that gentle- 
 man, and paused dramatically. " I forget," she 
 
144 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 said innocently. " Does one read Dickens now, or 
 does one not'? " 
 
 " One does," said Dr. Ashwin. 
 
 " One does not," said Lucas Warden simulta- 
 neously. 
 
 " Thank you," said Violet. " Then I appeal to 
 Father only. He will remember the incident about 
 poor Kate Nickleby, and the ancient men who 
 crawled into the shop to ogle her " 
 
 " Rather than the elegant ladies they escorted," 
 Claude supplied. 
 
 " Just so, Father dear. You have such a comfort- 
 ing memory. Understand me," said Violet, stretch- 
 ing a hand, " it was Miss Eccles' startling beauty, 
 and the thought of a thoroughly inferior mother in 
 the background, that set me thinking of poor Kate. 
 Not at all the character of her face, for Kate's 
 features were ninnyish probably, for all their charm." 
 
 " Nor the striking resemblance of Miss Lennox to 
 the Mantalini, I should imagine," said Claude. 
 
 " Nor that," agreed his daughter. " Oh dear me, 
 I wish she was." She leant her chin on her palm 
 and reflected sadly. 
 
 " That girl has the temper of a pole-cat," said Mr. 
 Warden, taking his cigar out. 
 
 " Yes, poor dear," said Violet. " When her won- 
 derful eyes dropped from me to my clothes, I was 
 so relieved. I felt they were just worth looking at 
 
LENNOXES 145 
 
 possibly, and I did not mind their being burnt alive." 
 
 " Has she any style*? " said Eveleen carelessly. 
 
 " Yes, Mother," said Violet, suddenly meek. 
 " It's a pity you can't see some things she did for 
 Margery Gibbs. When I lent her my blue Italian 
 regimental coat to copy at home " 
 
 " You never were so frantic," said Eveleen, moved 
 a little. " Is the person respectable"? " 
 
 " Well," said Violet. " Her mother drinks a little, 
 — but only on third or fourth-hand evidence." 
 
 " I hope you don't propose to get first-hand," said 
 Mr. Warden. 
 
 " How you read my thoughts I " said Violet, 
 turning on him again. " I wonder now, is there 
 anything especially fascinating about the Brixton 
 part of London? " 
 
 " Except that most of the music-hall population 
 lives there, — nothing particular." 
 
 " Violet," said her father. " I warn you I shall 
 draw the line." 
 
 "You are all interrupting me terribly," said 
 Violet, sinking back with an expression of bitter re- 
 proach. ' ' Mother is waiting for the end of a sentence 
 I started minutes ago." 
 
 Eveleen lifted her eyebrows, and the gentlemen 
 held their breath; for no one in their hearts doubted 
 the leadership in this artlessly instituted controversy. 
 Evidently the crisis impended now. 
 
146 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " When I lent Miss Eccles my blue Italian regi- 
 mental coat, which is the apple of my eye, to copy 
 at home," said Violet, " I asked her to be so kind as 
 to bring it back in person, with some specimens of 
 her work, for Mother's sake, enclosed in one of the 
 art-green boxes which are part of Miss Lennox's 
 stock-in-trade." 
 
 " The largest part," said Warden. 
 
 He received no encouragement from his host's 
 daughter, only a withering glance. Remembering 
 instructions received concerning the line to be 
 adopted in this interview, he scratched his head and 
 retracted. It was easy enough, with Eveleen, to 
 retract: for she had not attended to the discussion, 
 so aptly aimed at her, in great detail. Only one 
 answer, indeed, — a mere assent from her daughter, 
 — really stuck. Violet was a crazy Ashwin, but her 
 instinct for the remote quality called style ap- 
 proached Eveleen's own. It was the one solitary 
 point of contact of their characters. She clutched 
 that floating straw of fact therefore, and stored it as 
 likely to be serviceable. 
 
 As for the talking, she let it flow past her. She 
 soon grew tired in debate, and could not tolerate 
 reflection. If events fell, fortunately, one need not 
 further disturb one's mind; if unfortunately, no 
 amount of witty commentary really improved them. 
 If Violet was inclined to meddle with " rasant " 
 
LENNOXES 147 
 
 affairs and uninteresting people, Eveleen was well 
 enough pleased to shake her temporarily off, and 
 trust her to the luck of the Ashwins to make her 
 mark, and even reflect some credit on others at a 
 later stage. Claude had often made such a plunge, 
 under the cloud of her blank disapproval, and 
 emerged again, amazingly for Eveleen, with every- 
 one shaking him by the hand. He had probably 
 encouraged the girl in this, and, during his wife's 
 absence, got the affair in hand. She trusted so, f^r 
 his sake and Violet's. The one thing she asked 
 was that her daughter should not be drawn among 
 dowdies. Common girls with intemperate mothers 
 were as nothing, compared with the horror of that. 
 Such persons could easily be disposed of later, — 
 dowdies could not. Mrs. Ashwin, as Violet judged 
 acutely, would not for worlds have had Miss 
 Lennox upon her visiting-list. But here was Miss 
 Lennox neatly introduced as Lucas Warden's early 
 love, — and attached to a girl with style. It was a 
 very happy combination, worthy of Violet's intelli- 
 gence; and it had, by the usual slow degrees, the 
 effect that Violet hoped and intended. 
 
 Quite late that night, when he least expected it, 
 Eveleen concluded the girl's affair with Claude. 
 
 She began, so indirectly as to mislead him, on the 
 subject of Warden, who had at last left the house, 
 
148 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 having shown himself more entertaining than usual, 
 — to the others, that is. Eveleen had been bored. 
 
 " I wish Violet would not fasten her eyes on 
 people in that silly manner," she observed. " Men 
 like it even less than women." 
 
 " I like it," said Claude. " It's a mark of at- 
 tention." 
 
 "It is not," said Eveleen. " It's a mark of in- 
 attention quite as often. Besides," she added, " it's 
 perfectly possible to attend without." Her own eyes, 
 far from offending in the manner to which she 
 alluded, were on her husband's sleeve, where the 
 slightest mark of chalk was visible. " I wish," she 
 said, with unusual liveliness, " if you must play low 
 games, Claude, you would not go about looking like 
 a billiard-marker." 
 
 Dr. Ashwin snicked the chalk off absently. He 
 had been graciously allowed his game, though 
 rather late, and he felt the better for it. Billiards 
 was one of his rare diversions, as it was also one of 
 the half-dozen directions in which he was assured 
 he might have made his fortune, had he wished. 
 
 " Better low games of skill than high ones of 
 chance," he suggested in his deliberate tone. " You 
 ought really to be thankful my tastes are so in- 
 nocuous." Having waited for any comment in vain, 
 he proceeded. " Warden is a bore, of course, but no 
 harm in him. You had not wanted me to do any- 
 
LENNOXES 149 
 
 thing about anything, had you? Puss enjoys her 
 perambulations." He looked at her anxiously rather. 
 Some matters he really had to leave to her. 
 
 "' It's silly," said Eveleen. " However, I suppose 
 she will go on doing it. No, there's no harm." 
 Claude was relieved. *' We can't hire Warden to 
 take her down there every morning, however," said 
 Eveleen, examining her nails. 
 
 " To Battersea*? " His mind leapt in front of 
 hers. " Oh, that can be managed. You think she 
 might do it, then? " 
 
 " She's not a baby," said Eveleen. " And if she 
 must have fads and fancies, she had better get 
 through with them. Later on, she'd only have them 
 worse." 
 
 "Would she?" The doctor looked at her ex- 
 pectantly: thus stated, the case of Violet sounded 
 more familiar than he had feared. " I think I can 
 answer for her doing it thoroughly," he said, " if she 
 does it at all. But — she's at the age for discoveries, 
 you know. It will colour her." He spoke in jerks, 
 still watching his wife in quick flashes, — glances 
 that asked for help. 
 
 " I suppose it's a clean place," said Eveleen. 
 
 " I shan't suppose anything without seeing k," 
 he answered brusquely. "The woman has some 
 hygienic ideas, I made sure of that. As for exercise, 
 I stipulated for her starting at ten. Then, if she 
 
ISO A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 rides in the morning, as she proposes, and retires 
 early, she'll do pretty well." He turned his back to 
 his wife on the hearth, and paused. " One knows 
 what the craving is for anything mechanical," he 
 said. " Well-regulated. We ill-regulated people 
 need it most of all. That part of it I followed easily, 
 from the first. But the rest, — it's a flat business, — 
 ugly. And once in the wood you can't escape. There 
 was Margaret, — she lived wincing, — I should know. 
 And she had Gibbs to fall back on, at the worst." 
 
 " You're making too much of it, I should say," 
 remarked Eveleen. 
 
 " I hope so," he said fervently. " Perhaps." 
 Another interval ensued, broken again by him. 
 " That Eccles girl she mentioned," he said. " I asked 
 Arthur Gibbs about her, — got all he knew. There's 
 no harm there, — trouble, but no harm. She's a girl 
 with a grievance against society, — not what you 
 suppose." He had not seen Eveleen move her head, 
 — could not possibly, indeed, since his back was 
 turned. " Her father was an honest mechanic, and 
 married a well-bred goose. Society can't prevent its 
 happening, unfortunately. She ran away with her 
 bicycle teacher, — it may often have occurred, for all 
 I know. I daresay he never ceased regretting it, 
 nor his daughter after him." 
 
 " Nor the wife, I should think," said Eveleen. She 
 
LENNOXES 151 
 
 had no objection to hearing stories, even told in such 
 a snappy, disconnected fashion, " Turn round and 
 talk properly, Claude," she said. " If you mean to 
 talk." 
 
 He turned obedient to direction. Eveleen studied 
 his figure with gratification. The bar the considera- 
 tion of Violet caused was in his brow. He looked, 
 as his daughter had looked at dinner, exaggeratedly 
 miserable. But even to Eveleen's eye, which habit- 
 ually overlooked the unusual in face and form, he 
 was a " smart " man, — astonishingly young-looking 
 for all his multifarious agitations. 
 
 " The wife's a tragi-comedy," he informed her. 
 " Puss was right: it's not so far from the Nickleby 
 situation. I have not gone into it very deeply, of 
 course " 
 
 " Have you at all^ " said Eveleen, passingly 
 amazed. Claude's fragments of information, shot 
 at her at all seasons, were so unaccountable. 
 
 " Oh, well, — Gibbs said drink, you know, and 
 that's nasty. I thought you wouldn't stand that. 
 Luckily, I learnt it had been a hospital case: so 
 I investigated easily." 
 
 " Oh," said Eveleen, with vague disgust. " I'm 
 not sure I want to know." 
 
 " Not if I promise you entertainment? It's un- 
 heard-of, for sheer oddity, in my experience. The 
 
152 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 mother is a silly die-away woman, a poor curate's 
 daughter, Gibbs heard, — one of twins in a large 
 family " 
 
 " Goodness, Claude I What can that matter*? " 
 
 " I thought it might help a little, — I own it's not 
 the point. The point is that she does drink, — tea. 
 She overdrinks it. Not but what it's dangerous," he 
 added swiftly. " But perfectly refined, as a failing. 
 That's the point." 
 
 " It seems to have amused you," said Eveleen, 
 after a pause. 
 
 " Well, you see, I had been a little vexed in mind," 
 he apologised. " Doesn't it strike you the girl — the 
 daughter — must be something of a character? The 
 charge rests on her assertion." 
 
 " You mean she goes round saying her mother 
 drinks?" 
 
 " That's what I mean. She told her employer so, 
 and the Rector's wife some years back: quarters, 
 do you see, where it was bound to damage her, — she 
 with her living to get. What she means by it, I 
 should really like to know. Perhaps Violet will find 
 out." 
 
 " I'm sure I hope she won't," said Eveleen. She 
 had ceased to be astonished at what the Ashwins 
 found amusing. It may have been in the same 
 category as their superannuated taste for Dickens. 
 However, she made an effort of memory, just to be 
 
LENNOXES 153 
 
 up to him. "That's the girl Warden admired, is 
 it? " she said. " The one he had known in youth." 
 
 " No — no, — no I " he said, with surprising vivac- 
 ity. " Excuse me. You are contusing the two 
 cases. The one Warden had known in youth was the 
 plain and irreproachable Miss Lennox, who is hedged 
 about on all sides with clerical relations." 
 
 " Oh, then I was wrong," said Eveleen. " Not 
 that it matters." 
 
 " Not at all," said he, relapsing. 
 
 " I wonder you're so excited," she said. " I sup- 
 pose it's that game." 
 
 He broke down and laughed. " If you had seen 
 the game," he protested. " It really can't be that.'* 
 
 "Well then, you are fussing, as usual. What's 
 the good *?" 
 
 " No good. I fuss to no account. It's my des- 
 picable nature." He smiled at her, his pleasant 
 youthful smile. " But I'll tell you one thing, Evie: 
 the idea of Miss Kate attracts me." 
 
 "Kate'?" 
 
 " Yes. Nickleby, you know. I'd give something 
 to see Miss Eccles." 
 
 " Well, you won't if I can help it," said Eveleen: 
 but she said it in the depths of her clear and quiet 
 soul. " Come to bed, Claude," she said aloud, sweep- 
 ing in her wandering skirts after an interval. " I'm 
 tired anyhow, and you ought to be. Of course, I 
 
154 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 know you can never stop talking — when you're 
 relieved." 
 
 " Relieved'? " he ejaculated, as she rose. 
 
 " Yes," said Eveleen, rolling out her lip with her 
 slow smile, her back half turned to him. " You are 
 so absurd. You go chattering by the yard together, 
 you and Violet. What you ought to do is to thank 
 me, — both of you, — for letting you off so easily." 
 
Ill 
 
 THE TALE OF A WINK 
 
 Lucas Warden was wrong. 
 
 Miss Lennox and Miss Eccies, — the young lady 
 " in black with a waist," — had not been quarrelling 
 the day Miss Ashwin and her escort came upon 
 them so suddenly; for Miss Lennox, the so-called 
 proprietress of the business at Battersea, was, and 
 had been for long, as wax in her forewoman's hands. 
 
 Lennoxes, to use the term the staff applied to it 
 invariably, consisted of a single long room on the 
 upper floor of a respectable house, jammed between 
 two shops in a crowded street of the suburb. It was 
 a hot room in summer, facing south; but the de- 
 parted Miss Moffat had chosen, and Miss Lennox 
 adored it. It had a top-light, which is always an 
 artistic asset, but which was of singularly little profit 
 to the workwomen, since the light was shut out by 
 an art green blind. The blind failed entirely, on 
 the other hand, to shut out the heat, which in the 
 dog-days was apt to be stifling. 
 
 Miss Lennox, living up to the top-light, had added 
 a plain linoleum and tinted walls, with a blue vase 
 
156 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 on the table, which Miss Eccles, who had connec- 
 tions in the gardening profession, kept daily supplied 
 with flowers. The room was divided half-heartedly 
 into two with a flimsy curtain, on the door-side of 
 which the clients interviewed the principal, upon a 
 limited piece of carpet. On the window-side the 
 staff, consisting of Miss Eccles and a short girl 
 called Sally Pepper, sat and sewed; in the company 
 of one of those headless beauties, whose claim to 
 admiration consists of a fair human semblance to 
 the waist-line, and fashion in the abstract beneath 
 it, in the form of a wire cage. On the mantelshelf, 
 in headless, silent rivalry, stood a cast of the winged 
 Victory, to cheer Miss Lennox's young woman with 
 ideals of drapery. Miss Eccles, if her eye chanced 
 to fall on it in the course of her vigorous and varied 
 labours, could hardly ever avoid a sniff. 
 
 Alice Eccles had been taken in the original instance 
 " for charity " ; from which date, as may frequently 
 happen with a young person of spirit in the cir- 
 cumstances, she never let Miss Lennox forget it, or 
 failed to make her feel her resentment. Alice, 
 transfixed in a lady-like studio at Battersea, was 
 good, in her own opinion, for far better things. 
 Nature had turned her out a healthy animal, tall, 
 elastic, charged to the finger-tips with youthful 
 magnetism and powerful grace. Nature, being in an 
 indulgent mood, no doubt, when Miss Alice was 
 
LENNOXES 157 
 
 in the cradle, had added what was barely necessary 
 for strictly trade purposes, a fine oval face, with 
 straight features, straight brows, and a pair of 
 brilliant long brown eyes. Alice, a bright girl, had 
 supplemented Nature vigorously on her own account. 
 Catching hints at intervals from her mother, who' 
 kept the relics of a delicate training, Alice had cul- 
 tivated an accent and a manner, — a wonderful 
 manner, — warranted to pulverise the ordinary West 
 London buyer in a fashionable shop. On the strength 
 of these attributes alone, she would have been taken 
 " like a shot," — so she assured Miss Lennox, — for a 
 first-floor department, by any enterprising manager 
 to whom she presented herself; and she was ready 
 with lists of young ladies in high departmental posi- 
 tions, who could not be said, at least by Miss Eccles, 
 to possess a quarter of her own advantages. 
 
 But fate was against Alice. She had been, as she 
 confided to Violet towards the close of the second 
 week, " wrecked on respectability." She had spared 
 Miss Lennox, who was what Alice called " twittery " 
 about some things, an introduction to this striking 
 phrase; but to her own mind it represented, as was 
 evident, the summary of her whole career, from ten 
 years' old when she first took charge of her mother, 
 to her present mature age of twenty. 
 
 " I'm made to work with men," confided Alice. 
 " Men take to me naturally, and I'd have stood no 
 
158 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 nonsense from them, if I'd been let my way, and 
 given my chance. But do you think, brought up as 
 I've been, I'd be allowed to look one of 'em in the 
 eyes? Oh, my dear I" 
 
 Violet was Alice's dear at quite an early stage o^ 
 their intercourse, not so much from affection, as for 
 effect. Violet, as Charles had found, was a perfectly 
 charming listener; and Alice, who had grievances 
 stored up and running over, could not long resist an 
 ear offered from a girl of her own age. She stood on 
 her dignity and sniffed at intervals through the first 
 week or so of Violet's apprenticeship; and having 
 thus had leisure to sum up all her mincing absurdities, 
 with exaggeration, for the benefit of four or five 
 young ladies who travelled daily with her in the 
 tram from Brixton, she relented suddenly: turning 
 right-about-face in the course of a single morning, in 
 a manner of which only such a powerfully cock-sure 
 young person could have been capable. 
 
 This singular revolution began in an almost in- 
 voluntary fashion, by a wink: a wink while Miss 
 Lennox, in the further part of the room, was inter- 
 viewing a customer. This wink arose from what 
 might be called subjective emotion, and might have 
 been directed anywhere; only, granted Violet's 
 presence within three feet of Miss Eccles, and de- 
 murely sewing, it was more natural to wink at her 
 than at Sally Pepper, or the furniture. Miss Ashwin 
 
LENNOXES 159 
 
 replied with a glance, not visibly humorous, more 
 of a kind of din, far-reaching despair, and com- 
 bined with a pretty slight movement of the shoulders. 
 But the understanding thus instituted could not be 
 entirely ignored in their subsequent relations. The 
 frozen surface shivered, so to speak: and ere long 
 the pent-up flood of Alice's confidence was smashing 
 the remaining icicles in all directions. 
 
 Violet, with beautiful tact, remained demure. 
 She would not assume, merely because Alice ceased 
 sniffing and talked to her, that she was loved by 
 Alice. Indeed it was only too obvious that, on many 
 counts. Miss Eccles still despised her heartily. So 
 Violet, feeling despicable, naturally, in the wilder- 
 ness of her ignorance of " bindings," braids and 
 " bias," and of the petty meannesses of customers in 
 the matter of remnants, preserved the forms with 
 practised social knowledge, keeping a guiding hand, 
 for all Miss Eccles' plunging, on their intercourse 
 unseen. 
 
 Violet was " my dear " three times during the 
 morning of the wink; and Miss Lennox, overhear- 
 ing the appellation, was rather shocked. Miss 
 Lennox was a working-woman, and, in theory, a 
 leveller; but it did not seem right or natural to her 
 that poor Alice Eccles should patronise Miss Ashwin. 
 Alice, for all her managing instincts, and the un- 
 tameable brilliance of her presence, remained " poor 
 
i6o A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 Alice " to Miss Lennox, by virtue of her circum- 
 stances. 
 
 Miss Lennox was one of those astonishing women 
 who seem absolutely blind to physical glory, in 
 whatever form. It was not that she had Puritan 
 objections to thinking of such things, it was simply 
 that she did not see them. When Mr. Gibbs had 
 called Alice in her presence pretty, which was quite 
 the mildest term society, even clerical, could have 
 applied to her. Miss Lennox had been surprised. 
 She was a nice, bright, healthy sort of girl, of course, 
 and Miss Lennox saw all her character very clearly, 
 penetrating promptly, as Mr. Gibbs should have 
 done, to the Alice within. She saw her wisely, in 
 short, — not well. 
 
 That character, as she had earnestly assured Mr. 
 Gibbs and Dr. Ashwin, included some excellent 
 qualities. Poor Alice was admirably honest, for 
 instance, almost invariably cheerful, and, — if her 
 way of speaking of her mother was p>eculiar at times, 
 — a tolerant and loyal daughter. Yet more im- 
 portant in Miss Lennox's eyes, she seemed to under- 
 stand propriety, had crowds of girl acquaintance, of 
 whom she chattered very amusingly, — and never 
 spoke of gentlemen at all. Miss Lennox could not, 
 of course, tell of what she was thinking, during the 
 long periods of silence in the workroom, while Alice 
 snatched at the cotton, and sniffed occasionally. One 
 
LENNOXES 161 
 
 does not (if one is Miss Lennox) follow, or want 
 to follow, all a young girl's thoughts. It was the 
 rarest thing, naturally, for a gentleman to come 
 into the workroom ; but the day Mr. Lucas Warden 
 had walked in with Violet, Alice's behaviour, in her 
 principal's eyes, had been singularly perfect. In 
 fact. Miss Lennox had not been aware of her in the 
 room at all, during the interview with her old ac- 
 quaintance; and Mr. Lucas Warden had been equally 
 oblivious of her presence, as was right. 
 
 Miss Lennox watched the two girls in her charge, 
 of course, like a faithful hen; and except during 
 the process of shuffling consequent upon lunch and 
 tea intervals, — for it was against her conscience 
 ever to leave the workroom empty, in case cus- 
 tomers might call, — she was always in their society. 
 A dear friend of Miss Lennox's, who was also an 
 earnest woman, kept a small lunch-and-tea shop but 
 a few steps from her door. The few steps were across 
 a crowded noisy street ; but Miss Lennox was accus- 
 tomed to the idea of Miss Eccles making those few 
 steps in safety. So she let Miss Eccles go alone, 
 and subsequently escorted Violet. 
 
 Violet had been introduced to the earnest lady 
 of the tea-shop, and her plain daughter, and had 
 thought everything on the premises " quite delicious," 
 with an emphasis that delighted both. Indeed, all 
 Miss Lennox's " nice arrangements " had been 
 
i62 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 thoroughly appreciated by Violet, and were, the 
 head of the firm had reason to think, reassuring the 
 home circle rapidly. Miss Lennox wrote to Mrs. 
 Gibbs, proclaiming Miss Ashwin a sweet girl, and 
 really so simple. Confidence, during work- time " in- 
 tervals " flowed between the pair; and many of Miss 
 Lennox's private sufferings, excellent impulses, and 
 unnecessary abnegations, became transparent to 
 Violet during the hour while tea cheered and liberty 
 united them. 
 
 But, on the day of the wink, the fine social equilib- 
 rium preserved in this trio of ladies changed. Till 
 then, Violet had been Miss Lennox's young friend, 
 and Alice their attribute. From the moment that 
 notable signal was exchanged, Violet became Alice's 
 confederate, and Miss Lennox their well-meaning 
 patroness. Who shall say, amid the war of classes, 
 and the tussle of age and youth, how these things 
 occur? 
 
 It was a mere chance, of course, that at lunch- 
 time, — much the longer interval of the two, while 
 Alice was putting on her hat, a tooth of Alice's, 
 which was in an interesting condition to which she 
 had alluded at intervals that morning, should " stab " 
 her suddenly, causing momentary, but evidently ex- 
 quisite, pain. 
 
 " Poor girl ! " said Miss Lennox, much fussed. 
 " What ought we to do*? " 
 
LENNOXES 163 
 
 " You ought to have it out," said Violet quietly, 
 in the character of the doctor's daughter. " Let 
 me see." 
 
 Alice displayed a very white tooth, near the front, 
 complacently. " Wouldn't have it out for worlds," 
 she said. " Not me. Spoil my beauty for life. I'll 
 tell you what I'll do, — drop into the chemist oppo- 
 site and get him to advise me something." The eye- 
 lid of her left eye sank very slightly, as Miss Ashwin 
 fixed her with a grave regard. Miss Lennox, fussing 
 still more, said she would go with Alice. She made 
 elaborate and impracticable plans and combinations, 
 at great length. 
 
 " No, I will go," said Violet, soothing but definite, 
 " because I know what to ask for exactly. It's rather 
 a new thing. Miss Lennox, and it must be put on at 
 once. Would you terribly mind lunching alone just 
 for to-day *? " 
 
 Miss Lennox did mind, though not terribly; but 
 she saw no better way. Two girls can consult a 
 chemist with propriety; and when she feebly sug- 
 gested going to seek the new remedy herself, Violet 
 produced a name for it so long and latinised that 
 Miss Lennox's memory was unequal to retaining it. 
 It seemed, in fact, most simple for. the girls to go out 
 in company : and Violet and Alice went. 
 
 " You rose to that," said Miss Eccles with ap- 
 proval on the stairs, " as smooth as sneezing." This 
 
i64 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 was one of Alice's home-grown phrases, and implied 
 a natural or impulsive-seeming action, to which she 
 was addicted, and which in others she admired. 
 " My tooth's feeling better now, my dear," she pro- 
 ceeded as they attained the street, " so, if it's all the 
 same to you, we'll cross straight over to Casselses." 
 
 Cassilis was the name of Miss Lennox's earnest 
 friend; but as no girl can be expected to add another 
 sibilant to such a word, Alice had telescoped the 
 title. They crossed straight over, as proposed, Alice 
 taking Violet's arm protectingly. 
 
 As soon as seated, in the elegant privacy of 
 Casselses' upper room, they began at once to talk of 
 their employer. That was, so to speak, in the bond. 
 
 "What's Loyce'?" said Alice. "I never heard 
 of it." 
 
 " Lois, it is called," said Violet. " I believe it 
 comes in the Bible." 
 
 " It doesn't then," said Alice. " I ought to know 
 my Bible, if anyone ever did. Mum is alwa5's drop- 
 ping bits of it. She's a dab at Bible-reading, I can 
 tell you. We've texts in every room at home." 
 
 " Well, I will ask Father," said Violet. " But I 
 believe it is somewhere in an epistle; and that's 
 where Scotch people go to find their babies' names." 
 
 " Loyce was never a baby more than at present," 
 said Alice. " Not according to me." 
 
LENNOXES 165 
 
 "She is a dear, isn't she?" said Violet. "But 
 don't call her that upstairs, or I shall laugh." 
 
 " Is your father a preacher? " said Alice. " I 
 shouldn't have thought it, to look at you." 
 
 " Oh no, — Father's a doctor. What on earth 
 made you think that? I see," she added quickly, 
 " the Bible name. But Father knows everything, — 
 it's simply a weakness of his. He is always trying 
 to conceal it." 
 
 " Ton know a few things, I shouldn't wonder," 
 said Alice. " You've been at several finishing 
 schools, haven't you now?" She sniffed, though 
 mildly, as she picked up a radish by the leaves, and 
 bit it with every appearance of health in the teeth 
 that attacked. 
 
 Violet gravely shook her head. " I am afraid," 
 she said, " I never even -wanted to go to school. It's 
 rather awful. Miss Eccles, but I feel I should so 
 have disliked the other girls." 
 
 " You do hate 'em," said Alice reflectively, " until 
 you learn to work them to your purposes. They're 
 ready enough to admire, I'll say that for them; but 
 unless you give them a sharp lead, they'll run and 
 admire the wrong people. The sights I've seen set 
 up as graven images, — you never did." 
 
 It was true Violet had never done; she looked 
 at Alice yearningly. 
 
i66 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " But men," she said, " are not the same." 
 
 " No, men are different. I give you that," said 
 Alice graciously. Slowly, very slowly, in the seconds 
 that ensued, she smiled upon Violet. " Oh, men ! " 
 she said. " I can't help it, my dear, — they do 
 beat all." 
 
 From that point her real confidence started. 
 Violet had found the key on sight, as it were, to all 
 the things Miss Lennox was least likely ever to know. 
 Violet herself did not get them all at once, of course; 
 that between any pair of girls would be impossible; 
 but she started by instinct on the right lines, giving 
 Alice's good sense and good faith, as well as her 
 superb attractions, their due. With that appear- 
 ance, she must know life; and she was naturally to 
 be the talker, while Miss Ashwin was content to com- 
 ment and enquire. Just because it was the last atti- 
 tude Alice expected on her part, she fell a victim to 
 the guile more easily. 
 
 All the autobiography of which we proceed to give 
 extracts was not, of course, collected the first day; 
 only, since it is impossible to follow girls' divaga- 
 tions in dialogue, it shall be collected for the student 
 of Miss Eccles at this point. 
 
 Born with a love of adventure, Alice had had, as 
 she declared cheerfully, " no luck." Everything was 
 against her, her birth most of all; for there is no 
 stickler for the conventions like the weak woman 
 
LENNOXES 167 
 
 who has committed herself by a social imprudence, 
 and been left clinging, as it were, to the brink. 
 " Thou shalt not," had been multiplied exceedingly, 
 for the bicycle-maker's daughter. 
 
 " I never had a scrap of fun," said Alice, " except 
 at school. If I'd had a brother now, — but no such 
 luck. My brother died a baby : at that point, Mother 
 lost her health and got religion rather badly, — and 
 simultaneously, Father struck. Men can strike, you 
 may have noticed, Miss Ashwin, when they have 
 had enough of muddling, — women can't. I was left 
 to make the best of Mother and the texts. She re- 
 proached everyone with that baby's death, except 
 herself: but I could never see how it could have 
 been Dad's fault, anyhow. But everything always 
 was his fault, since his original sin in marrying her. 
 Mum was the romantic kind, if you understand; 
 never believed awkward things till they were forced 
 down her throat. She said he had loved her, — well^ 
 so he had, of course. But I could have told her 
 he would not stand her grizzling for ever, — but 
 then, I know what men are by nature, better than 
 she does. It must be by nature," said Miss Eccles, 
 *' because she never let me get experience of my own. 
 And her experience, which she's never tired of giv- 
 ing me, is that you marry the first man you mash, 
 or who mashes you, and toddle into a life as pretty 
 as a musical comedy. Well, you don't. I wonder," 
 
i68 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 said Alice grimly, " what would have happened to 
 her, if I had followed out that plan'? She carried 
 out the first part all right, but both of us together 
 couldn't bring off the second. The music was want- 
 ing, — Mum changed a bit, — and Father, as was 
 natural, changed too. He was a jolly man, Father, 
 a thorough good sort. Good at his trade too, — sold 
 capital stuff. At home he was sulky. I could have 
 managed him if she'd let me; but she said he was 
 growing coarse, and tried to keep him from me. I 
 lost my temper at last, and gave up interfering be- 
 tween them. Whereupon Dad walked off for good, 
 and was killed in a motor smash soon after. That 
 was bad luck for me too " 
 
 " Bad luck*? " gasped Violet, paling. 
 
 " Well, you know what I mean. No, you don't," 
 Alice corrected sharply, " because you're fond of 
 your father, and I shouldn't have said it. You 
 needn't faint anyhow, Miss Ashwin, it's not worth 
 it. W^hat I mean is, I had just begun to get control 
 of Mother before it happened, but as a widow she 
 recovered all her glory." 
 
 " Glory*? " said Violet, at sea. Alice nodded. 
 
 " Mother's sort is like that : nothing really sets 
 them up in life like a widow's veil. I can't explain 
 it, because personally I'd sooner have the man: but 
 that's my vulgarity." Alice stopped and looked at 
 her vis-a-vis. 
 
LENNOXES 169 
 
 "Yes? "said Violet. 
 
 "Well,— isn't it'?" 
 
 " It may be. I agree with you. Memories alone, 
 to live with, are rather selfish things." 
 
 " They are," said Miss Eccles, and sighed. " One 
 would have thought you'd lived with Mother, saying 
 that. She doesn't think much of other people." The 
 girl frowned a minute. " I'm not sentimental a 
 scrap," she said, " but I'd like to live a bit in my way. 
 Though my way isn't hers, by chalks." 
 
 " Mothers are strange things," said Violet pen- 
 sively. " Interesting. I should like to meet Mrs. 
 Eccles." 
 
 " As a kind of society proper-thing-to-say," said 
 Alice. She turned a gleam on Violet. " But you 
 wouldn't, you know, — Mother drinks." 
 
 There was a pause. Violet's brow knit painfully, 
 and the faintest flush appeared. Then she lifted her 
 eyes to Alice. 
 
 " How sad," she said. " Can't you stop her*? " 
 
 " No, nor want to," said Alice. " She's that dis- 
 agreeable when I do." 
 
 " I think," said Violet gravely, " that you are a 
 frightfully satirical person, Miss Eccles. I hardly 
 know if you're sincere." 
 
 " Don't you, my pretty pet," said Alice playfully. 
 " Well, so long as I do, I can't see it matters. Now, 
 listen here, and I'll tell you. I always tell people 
 
170 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 this at first go off, just to see how it strikes them, 
 and prove all their nice instincts. Mother drinks 
 more than she ought to. She's absolutely dependent 
 on it, and gets cunning and silly when she's pre- 
 vented. All that's a fact. Doctor's forbidden her 
 to exceed a certain quantity, or she'll pay for it. 
 That's a fact, too. She pays money out for the stuff, 
 — my money, — but if she goes on she'll pay some- 
 thing more than that, — you understand? She's 
 been in hospital once. And she goes on in spite, — 
 she's mad on it, lost all conscience and command. 
 She says she'd sooner die than stop. There I Ever 
 come across that situation, in your set? " 
 
 " Not exactly. Not with drinking, I mean," said 
 Miss Ashwin thoughtfully. " With smoking of 
 course I have. Some women I know " 
 
 "Women?" Alice was momentarily aghast. 
 Evidently, that form of vice was unknown at Brix- 
 ton, and for an appreciable instant the tables were 
 turned. Then she snatched the lead again. " Well, 
 that's my Mother," she said. " Never mind the other 
 people. Nice look-out for me, don't you think, with 
 that tied on to me? " 
 
 " It does seem hard on you," said Violet. 
 
 " She's a nice woman, you know," said Alice 
 swiftly. "A thorough lady; stayed with a Bishop 
 once. There's nothing else against her, anywhere. 
 
LENNOXES 171 
 
 She won't mix with the neighbours, but what do 
 you expect? She never let me accept an invitation 
 in the neighbourhood. She only lives there because 
 it is Father's house, and she'd never be able to let 
 it. She knows no one but the clergyman, who's got 
 no family. It was through him I got this job, and 
 a precious fuss there was about my taking it, I 
 promise you I I was ashamed, the trouble she gave 
 him and Mr. Gibbs about it — Mr. Gibbs had this 
 parish then. I suppose you'd have heard all that. 
 Mr. Gibbs answered to Mum for Loyce's character 
 and habits • " 
 
 Miss Eccles concluded by a slight but perfectly 
 eloquent contortion of her features. 
 
 " It's delightful your knowing Uncle Arthur," said 
 Violet. " I had forgotten that. Did you know Aunt 
 Margaret too? " 
 
 " Mum did. I never saw her to remember. I 
 remember your uncle though, — he seemed sensible 
 enough." 
 
 "Didn't my aunt?" 
 
 " I can't say. Mum seemed to think her skittish 
 — I mean for a parson's wife. Mum disapproved of 
 her — what are you laughing at, Miss Ashwin? I 
 hope Mum told them truth about me, — but of course 
 I couldn't be sure." She looked enquiring. 
 
 " You want to know what he said about you? 
 
172 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 Let me think," said Violet. " He chiefly remem- 
 bered you were pretty, of course ; but I think he was 
 a little bit anxious for Miss Lennox." 
 
 Alice smiled. " For the china"? " she enquired 
 sarcastically. " I remember now, I was in a temper 
 the day he came to call. I take you to witness, Miss 
 Ash win, I've broken nothing in the workroom yet. 
 Those are the same ornaments we've had since I 
 came. The angel on the mantelpiece is broken 
 already, but that's not my fault, — she was born so. 
 By the way, what's the sense of that, do you happen 
 to know"?" 
 
 " The angel ^ " Violet's forehead lifted. " Oh, 
 you mean the Nike of Samothrace. Don't you think 
 she's rather beautiful ? " 
 
 " She might be," said Alice. " On the other hand, 
 she might not. It leaves you doubtful, not having 
 the head." There was a pause, and the course of 
 the dialogue hung uncertain for a minute or so; 
 then, since Miss Ashwin refused to lead, Alice had 
 to start fresh, — on a slightly lower plane, perhaps. 
 But Miss Eccles, for all her high-handedness, was 
 only twenty. 
 
 She tilted her head a little to the side, folded her 
 hands, and said, — " So your uncle thought me 
 pretty, did he?" 
 
 " He used stronger expressions, when pressed," 
 said Violet. " And I naturally pressed him." 
 
LENNOXES 173 
 
 Alice looked down at her hands, exhibiting a fine 
 array of eyelashes as she did so. "I take after my 
 father," she explained. " It's not my fault, and I 
 don't see why it should be thrown up at me con- 
 tinually. No one entering on life could look at Mum 
 and Dad and have a minute's doubt which was the 
 line to follow in looks. Dad's was a handsome 
 stock: the cousins I used to go to see in Devonshire 
 were the same. Farmers they were, — once I stayed 
 there a month, and came back as fat — Mum was 
 ashamed of me. She would never let me go again, 
 though the}' were kind — my word I " A pause. " I 
 do love the country," said Alice. 
 
 "I knew that already," said Violet. "I knew 
 when I watched you arranging those roses yesterday 
 in Miss Lennox's blue bowl." 
 
 Miss Eccles looked at her, a wavering look. It 
 meant, more to come when confidence should be ripe. 
 " Yes," she said. " Well, what was I saying'? I 
 chose to take after the Eccles side, and Mum's never 
 quite forgiven me. I've done everything she told 
 me to, kept myself low, minced my walking, flattened 
 my hair. I can talk uppishly, can't I, now? You 
 heard me at Mrs. Fellowes to-day. I've worn weeds 
 as long as Mum did, like any blessed widow; but 
 it couldn't be supposed at sixteen I'd look like one, 
 could it*? Father died in my sixteenth year. What 
 would you feel like, Miss Ashwin, wearing rusty 
 
174 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 black, when a bit of yellow was your private taste *? " 
 " You would look lovely in yellow," said Violet. 
 " Primrose yellow : and so very few people really 
 can." 
 
 " I look well in black, if it comes to that," said 
 Alice, sniffing. " But it's not Mum's fault if I don't 
 look like a walking slop-shop. That's what would 
 satisfy her. She and Loyce would agree nicely, — 
 Nikky on the mantelpiece is their line. Mum lives 
 herself in a dressing-gown, — ways I hate. 
 Well, what was I saying, my dear, before we touched 
 on this?" 
 
IV 
 
 WOMEN AND FOREWOMEN 
 
 And about here it may be mentioned, once for all, in 
 order not utterly to revolt our more serious readers, 
 that these two young persons " touched on " clothes 
 in their converse not infrequently. One has met 
 other girls of eighteen to twenty who did the same; 
 and with one of these two at least it was a pro- 
 fessional interest. 
 
 Alice was an artist born. Since the days when she 
 snipped stuff to fit her dolls, her true vocation had 
 summoned her. Her artist's eye unclothed the 
 human model, judged and refitted them with the 
 colours and draperies their " points " demanded. She 
 acted unconsciously and on inspiration in the matter, 
 and like all true artists, who have not the critic's 
 gift to explain the intangible canons of taste, she 
 was desperately impatient with those who failed to 
 see as she did instantly. 
 
 Miss Lennox, — Loyce, as she continued mis- 
 chievously to call her, — had caused Alice, as she had 
 caused Violet, genuine pain; for Alice had an 
 affection for Miss Lennox at the root, though she 
 
176 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 refused to recognise the presence of gratitude among 
 its ingredients. It was Alice, " between ourselves, 
 my dear," who had made the reputation of Lennoxes; 
 and it was " Loyce " who was constantly betraying 
 their common undertaking by her inappropriate 
 appearance, and unskilful advice to customers. 
 Countless times, according to Miss Eccles, she had 
 stepped in at a critical moment, averted incredible 
 colour-schemes which the customers ordained, and to 
 which Miss Lennox smilingly agreed, proposed the 
 possible compromise, and reached it by skilful flat- 
 tery; or, at the worst, lent such distinction by her 
 own clean cutting and smart workmanship to an 
 ungrateful and ugly order, that Lennoxes need not 
 blush in sending it out. 
 
 " I've done everything for her," said Alice of 
 Loyce, on the day of the wink, when they sat together 
 lunching at Casselses, " and what, after all, has she 
 done for me*? Paid me the skimpy half of what 
 I should be getting in a good shop. Driven me wild 
 and spoilt my temper with her twittering and second 
 thoughts where there's only one thought possible, 
 and that's different from hers. Wheedled me back 
 against my conscience when I'd given notice: pre- 
 tended I'd not insulted her when I had. Given me 
 green walls and the lower half of a Greek statue to 
 look at, to raise my tone. Kept me a lady, — hasn't 
 she? Why, at this minute she's twittering at the 
 
LENNOXES 177 
 
 idea of our hobnobbing for half an hour, and won- 
 dering what your uncle would say about it. Don't 
 I know I Fine lot of lady about me, anyway, — 
 ask anyone who really knows. Or, if you don't want 
 the trouble, — look in that glass over there at me 
 and you." 
 
 " I had rather look at you,"" said Violet quietly. 
 " I had rather not see myself beside you, if it's all 
 pretty as a musical comedy. Well, — you don't. I 
 the same to you. Miss Eccles. I am facing the light, 
 which is never becoming, and the tip of one's nose 
 is hardly dependable in this heat. . . . Instead, 
 I want most terribly, — I simply ache to set you 
 right about some things, and give you a bit of my 
 mind on certain subjects. Only, I am afraid if I do, 
 you will return to your original Arctic altitude." 
 
 " My what^ " said Alice. 
 
 " Your high horse. What I may call the Mrs. 
 Fellowes manner, which reduces me to dust." 
 
 " Come off," said Alice, smiling. " You don't get 
 at me that way. What do you mean'? " 
 
 "You wouldn't think I was a Terror, would 
 you*? " said Violet, still in the softest tone. " But 
 then I so seldom say all I think. I am naturally con- 
 ceited and imperious and impertinent, with a rather 
 vicious temper " 
 
 "Come off," Alice murmured again, her smile 
 fading. 
 
178 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " A rather vicious temper well under control. No 
 one ever saw me out of temper, I may tell you in 
 confidence " 
 
 " So I should suppose," said Alice. 
 
 " So I shall spare you the exhibition for the 
 present. But if you ever suggest again that Miss 
 Lennox, or the Gibbses, or anyone but myself have 
 any right to choose the friends I make, I shall prob- 
 ably surprise you. You know what independence is, 
 Miss Eccles, naturally. But you don't know what 
 newly-acquired independence is, and the tremendous 
 advantage it gives you, owing to suppressed excite- 
 ment, all the time. Have I looked excited, this last 
 week^ " 
 
 " As prim as a pussy-cat," said Miss Eccles. 
 
 " No harm inme^ " 
 
 "Not an ounce. Fine-missyish a trifle, looking 
 down on the rest of us." 
 
 Miss Ashwin smiled at Alice. " I ^/« a little dis- 
 contented," she said in confidence. "That's the 
 truth. I am afraid I am ambitious, Miss Eccles." 
 
 " What? " Alice's look of amusement vanished 
 completely. "Not for the business, you don't 
 mean*? " 
 
 "For the business, yes. It has the elements of 
 prosperity, hasn't it'? But I have an uncomfortable 
 feeling, — I may be wrong, — of advantages being 
 frittered away." 
 
LENNOXES i8i 
 
 " Twittered," Alice improved it. " Look here, — 
 are you in earnest? " 
 
 Miss Eccles' appearance had completely changed 
 from her former easy humour. She was another 
 person, cautiously measuring the girl who faced her. 
 
 "I am a perfect idiot at figures," said Violet 
 plaintively, resting her head on her hand, " with a 
 thoroughly untidy mind. I have no natural capacity 
 for business at all; but to judge by Father's marked 
 success in acquiring one, at a comparatively 
 advanced age, I do not despair of myself. At least, 
 I am observant; and living all day in that place, one 
 can't help noticing things." A pause. " Why, for 
 instance, have we only the one room"? — Mother's 
 dressmaker, not a rich woman, and close-fisted like 
 the French, has all the floor. And rents are higher 
 at Knightsbridge, probably." 
 
 " I should think so," Alice jerked. 
 
 " Miss Lennox," proceeded Violet, " to my real 
 surprise, has quite as large a clientele " 
 
 " Don't use foreign words," said Alice, primming 
 her lips, " it reminds me of the deficiencies of my 
 education." 
 
 " It is a silly habit," said Violet bitterly, " when 
 our language is one of the richest in the world. Miss 
 Lennox has quite as many regular customers, is what 
 I mean." 
 
 " I knew you did, dear," said Alice. " Go on." 
 
178 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " The room opposite ours, with a nice paper, and 
 some illustrated fashion-sheets about — not to men- 
 tion original designs in pencil with a personal note — 
 would improve our position at once. People do so 
 like a quiet corner to discuss their ideas with some- 
 body, don't they^ " 
 
 " So they do," said Alice. " The drawback is, 
 somebody — if it's Loyce — always wants, sooner 
 or later, to refer to me." 
 
 " Naturally," said Violet. " But need it be the 
 drawback^ I don't believe poor Miss Lennox enjoys 
 it really. Think of her agitation this morning, for 
 instance, — when you attracted my attention. It 
 was pitiful." She drooped a moment, holding the 
 edge of the lunch-table with her slight, clever hands. 
 Miss Eccles was considering too. 
 
 " I never tried to cross her about that," she said, 
 "because rights are rights, according to me: and 
 those that hold the capital keep the direction. See'? 
 Not to mention she doesn't really trust my manners, 
 with the silly ones. She thinks I should bully and 
 offend them, and she's right. Indeed, I have offended 
 one or two." 
 
 " I know," said Violet. " You can't suffer fools 
 gladly, and no more, really, can I. But I can act, 
 and pretend to, at need. And anyhow, it's an ex- 
 cellent thing to practice patience." 
 
 " I shall believe your father is a preacher soon," 
 said Alice. 
 
LENNOXES 181 
 
 " Oh, excuse me, — I am talking at myself. I was 
 thinking of myself entirely. You see, in Mother's 
 society, you meet quantities of silly women, and learn 
 how to dodge them in conversation, and how to 
 manage them too. And as to trusting me. Miss 
 Eccles, I may mention without boasting that Miss 
 Lennox has been growing fonder of me all this week. 
 She very nearly loves me now." 
 
 Alice paused, staring at Violet. She took her time. 
 
 " Well," she said presently, " you are a nice little 
 cat, and no mistake. That's what you're after, isn't 
 if? You want to capture the interviews, as you 
 call them — get them out of her hands. . 
 Not but what she'd be thankful. But perhaps I had 
 better mention, — / am called the forewoman. Miss 
 Ashwin." 
 
 " Oh dear," said Violet, pained. " And what does 
 that mean exactly, — I never know." 
 
 " I suppose it means, — being English, — that I'm 
 to the fore. Which means, in front of you. . . . 
 Don't imagine I'm objecting," she proceeded at 
 leisure, as Violet seemed utterly prostrated. " I've 
 no natural turn for palavering, I'm quicker at seeing 
 and handling things. I know my own points, thank 
 you, without your telling me. And I've a notion we 
 could work together, come to that; because I like 
 your style, generally speaking. I mean, of course, if 
 you'll avoid being too cattishly clever, which puts 
 me out." 
 
i82 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " I simply can't help it," said Violet, looking 
 desperate. " You must put up with me. Miss Eccles, 
 as I am. I mean, if we are to keep together at all. 
 I can only hope I've shown you the worst of me in 
 this interview. I have tried — but I hardly know." 
 
 "The worst of you?" said Alice, with a laugh. 
 " Oh well, that's all right, then, — we shall get along. 
 Don't look like crying, for mercy's sake, or Casselses 
 will be on us, asking what's up, and reporting me to 
 Lennoxes for maltreating the apprentices. Blest if 
 I'm not adopting your style in talk. Miss Ashwin. 
 I'm sure I hope you'll excuse me," added Alice, with 
 propriety, glancing round her. 
 
 " I'm so worried about Miss Lennox, to tell the 
 truth," said Violet, lowering her tone, for Mrs. 
 Cassilis, the proprietress, was passing. " She looks 
 so tired." 
 
 " She's never got over Miss Moffat's behaviour in 
 the spring. Talk of terrors, she was one. Good 
 gracious I " 
 
 " We will not go into that," said Violet, lifting a 
 hand. " Miss Lennox has told me all about it, — 
 and more than she thinks. If there's one phenomenon 
 in the world that outrages me, Miss Eccles, it is a 
 good, kind woman taking up with a mean, merciless 
 Trampler, and giving her the name of friend." 
 
 " You do palaver well," admitted Alice. " I'll say 
 that for you. That's Miss Moffat to the life." 
 
LENNOXES 183 
 
 " I am serious," said Violet. " I do wish dear 
 Miss Lennox would go right away, — don't you*? 
 For a time, I mean, of course: to the sea or some- 
 v/here. I think I shall talk a little to Mrs. Cassilis 
 about that. She has an influence with Miss Lennox, 
 — hasn't she*?" 
 
 " Anyone has an influence with Loyce," said Alice. 
 She bit her lip; then she lifted her eyes to the 
 clock. "Miss Ashwin," she said, "look here: you 
 have got all sorts of scheming notions in your little 
 noddle, and I've simply not time to worry them out. 
 They may be worth worrying, or they may not. 
 But I'll tell you one thing, straight. I shall leave 
 this place in two minutes, with your company or 
 without." 
 
 " Is it really time? " cried Violet, swerving to the 
 clock. " It does seem so short." 
 
 " It's my time," said Alice. " You and Miss 
 Lennox, when you go out together, take longer." 
 
 " Oh," the girl cried, " it's not true ! " 
 
 "True'? Do you think Sally and I don't time 
 you? But I tell her, she needn't be surprised. 
 You're not brought up to regular habits like her 
 and me." 
 
 " I am annihilated," said Violet. " Ironed out. 
 And talking of natural cunning, Miss Eccles, I'm very 
 much afraid you've been saving that up." 
 
 Alice admitted the charge with a cheerful smile. 
 
i84 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 It was not till the pair were in the street that she 
 said brusquely — " The park is just down that way. 
 You go down there for half an hour and see the 
 flowers. I'll explain to Loyce so she won't bother 
 about you." 
 
 Miss Ashwin crossed the street, in two sections, 
 at her side before she answered. " Are you speaking 
 as forewoman," she then enquired, " or as friend? " 
 
 " Whichever you like. I don't mind ordering you, 
 if you prefer it." 
 
 " Then I am not offended," said Violet, " but I 
 shan't obey. When shall I next talk to you"? " 
 
 " Goodness knows. Loyce will never repep.t this 
 process," said Alice sagely. 
 
 " Mayn't I drive you part of the way this evening*? 
 It's the small car, but Joliffe's bringing it, and he's 
 discreet." 
 
 " No, you don't," said Alice. " Likely I'd be seen 
 with you, isn't? " 
 
 " You do need talking to." Violet turned to gaze 
 at her, large-eyed. " Do you never accept lifts in 
 life from anybody? Or is it that your people would 
 think us fast? " 
 
 " I shall slap you in a minute," said Alice. 
 " Don't provoke me, I advise you." 
 
 " I am thinking," said Violet desperately. " May 
 I come and see you some time at Brixton, or is that 
 equally out of the question? " 
 
LENNOXES 185 
 
 " All right," said Alice after consideration. " If 
 you come without the car." 
 
 " Is it Joliffe you're afraid of ^ " asked Violet. 
 " He's a married man, with a baby. Perhaps that 
 makes no difference. Oh dear, what nice teeth you 
 have when you smile. By the way, here's the chemist 
 close at hand, we're passing him. . . . Would 
 Sunday week do, I wonder? This one we're on the 
 river, with the Marquis." 
 
 " The what? " Alice cried. 
 
 " A friend of Mother's, — French. I think there's 
 nothing the Sunday after. I hope not. If there is, 
 I'll let you know." 
 
 " Let me know in any case," said Miss Eccles 
 briefly. " I'd sooner know for certain if you're com- 
 ing, and when." 
 
 " Of course," said Miss Ashwin hastily. " Yes, 
 I'll telegraph." 
 
 " Better send a halfpenny card," said Alice. 
 " Telegrams frighten Mother." 
 
 Violet submitted again. As they turned into the 
 entrance of Lennoxes' building, she was asking her- 
 self if she would ever get used to snubs. She was 
 not used to them, and they caused a disproportion- 
 ately painful shock to her system. Miss Eccles 
 seemed to cast these shattering missiles round her 
 so lightly, too. Violet hardly wondered poor Miss 
 Lennox shrank at times. 
 
A DISCOVERY 
 
 *' I KNOW all about Miss Eccles now," wrote Violet 
 some weeks later to Margery Gibbs, " and she's 
 Thrilling. I dare tell you no more than that, since 
 I hear Charles reads these letters, lest he fall in 
 love with her simply on description. I have to go 
 carefully, of course; but I think some time she is 
 going to let me know her quite well. She is a per- 
 fectly wonderful girl, — she even impresses Mother. 
 " On Sunday last she brought my coat back, — the 
 one made of Italian military cloth Father broke the 
 law for in Italy. I was delighted to see it again, 
 especially as I wanted it for the river, and Father 
 was fussing about shawls. Don't you loathe shawls, 
 Margery darling? M. de Fervolles recognised the 
 cloth at once, would you believe it, and said the idea 
 of making war under other colours was charming, and 
 wouldn't I try the French uniform instead? Dear 
 man, it was almost the only time he noticed me, 
 but his little scenes of suppressed emotion with 
 Mother were wonderful to watch, and his asides 
 with Father almost too complicated for common use. 
 
LENNOXES 187 
 
 Mother did not trouble about them ; but I had simply 
 to rack my brains to follow the sous-entendu of their 
 conversations, and longed to ask for Notes. What 
 with that, and the sun dazzling us all day, I have 
 seldom returned from a river-party so exhausted. I 
 prefer Charles' sort, tell him, a Thousand times." 
 
 After this short summary of the expedition, which 
 rang faintly with Violet's accustomed desolation to 
 the sympathetic ear, she returned with evident de- 
 light to Miss Eccles, her own discovery and intro- 
 duction. There was something healthy, girlish and 
 eager in her manner of dealing with this new friend, 
 that Charles found, for once, a trifle commonplace; 
 and he skipped the interview of Alice and Mrs. 
 Ashwin, which had evidently amused Violet. 
 Charles did not care for comedy, lacking the tragic 
 touch. The wit of the grave-diggers appealed to 
 him, nothing Pickwickian or burlesque. His step- 
 father, however, was different. Mr. Gibbs never 
 forgot one lamb of his scattered flock, and he was 
 evidently struck by this unexpected light on Alice. 
 This, together with his ever-fresh relish for the fair 
 Eveleen's proceedings, lent interest for him to the 
 portion Charles avoided. 
 
 " You see," explained Violet. " Mother is living 
 without her maid, and words cannot say what that 
 means to the rest of us. I had personally never any 
 idea what Leontine is to us all, or the formidable 
 
i88 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 gap that pleurisy in such a person would leave in a 
 household. It is evident Mother misses her more 
 than she could, in any circumstances, miss me; 
 though I do my best in little things, such as Button- 
 ing, to replace her. If All is Lost, darling, I can still 
 take a post as ladies' maid; but of course I am 
 nothing, in natural Power, compared with Miss 
 Eccles. 
 
 " The day she arrived with my coat in the nick of 
 time. Mother was preparing to be several minutes 
 too late for the train we had promised at Padding- 
 ton, and was simply splendidly furious with every- 
 body, — the kind of White anger I adore. Father 
 and I were ready hours before, of course, and consol- 
 ing one another in the hall. Father was just ob- 
 serving that at the worst he could make some ex- 
 traordinary combination or other with the car, when 
 Miss Eccles walked into the hall from the servant's 
 corridor, and laid my coat down on a chair. Father, 
 quite overcome by the splendid apparition, stopped 
 his combining manoeuvres and got up. So I intro- 
 duced them, and apologised for Mother, explaining 
 our desperate plight. 
 
 " ' Could I be of any assistance. Miss Ahswin, I 
 wonder^ ' says Alice, in what I call her customer-y 
 manner, — unequalled on any Stage. Father said she 
 was too obliging, but he feared only Heaven or a 
 change of time-table could help us now. Miss Eccles 
 
LENNOXES 189 
 
 did not sniff precisely, but she put him in his place; 
 and in two minutes, following orders as usual, I was 
 showing her to Mother's room. 
 
 " I wish I knew, dear Margery, in what the quality 
 of Greatness consists. Personally, I can only recog- 
 nise and bow to it. Mother has moments of it cer- 
 tainly, — her state that morning was of spurning 
 earthly things. Everybody had done their best to 
 please her, and everybody had failed. The extra 
 girl, reduced to remnants, was crying. Mother and 
 Miss Eccles took one another's measure on sight — 
 it was a sort of Field of the Cloth of Gold. I was 
 quite too dazed to see how Miss Eccles did it, — all 
 I know is. Mother was finished in time, and, owing 
 to Father's usual luck in killing nobody in the 
 Marylebone Road, we caught the train for Goring 
 we had promised. 
 
 " I have not ventured yet to get Mother's opinion 
 of Miss Eccles, — she may be raging under unaccus- 
 tomed snubs for all I know; but Miss Eccles evi- 
 dently thinks the better of me for being so closely 
 related to Mother. I had to tell her every detail 
 about the picnic party, — she says she knows Goring 
 well. It is a relief to me when she deigns to meet 
 me on any common ground — or water. Generally 
 she despises our doings utterly, and seems to be 
 marvelling silently that we don't know better how 
 to amuse ourselves. Yet her ideas must be largely 
 
190 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 visionary, for beautiful as she is, she has never had 
 a chance of fun. I do so long to bring her down 
 to Glasswell for a nice long day; she has a passion 
 that is pathetic for country things, and a real respect 
 for flowers that would be a bond with your Father, 
 I am sure. Yet at present I simply dare not pro- 
 pose it, though I hope to be on terms to attempt it 
 in time." 
 
 *' Ex-traordinary," was Mr. Gibbs' comment, 
 " but I might have known." 
 
 " I suppose it's the attraction of opposites," said 
 Margery dubiously. " I can't say I quite like it, 
 Papa." 
 
 " I can't bear it," said Charles, with manly dignity. 
 
 " Girls at school," said Mrs. Gibbs, " get enthu- 
 siasms for one another. I have known several who 
 carried it too far. Violet never was at school, so I 
 suppose she never worked off that phase, and is going 
 through it now." 
 
 " That is tenable," said the Rector. " But why 
 not a real friendship, — a staying thing? That 
 would be a godsend to the girl." He looked from 
 face to face of the table at which he sat. 
 
 " Because it is impossible," said Charles. 
 
 Mr. Gibbs' eyes rested on him, and he asked, 
 "Are you jealous, Charles'?" 
 
 " No, governor," said Charles. " But I have what 
 Mark Twain calls an invincible antipathy to the 
 
LENNOXES 191 
 
 name. Eccles I Speckles, — freckles, — I ask you, 
 children I " 
 
 His stepfather laughed. " There's a lack of 
 nobility about it possibly," he admitted. 
 
 " It can't," argued Charles, " be written anywhere 
 near to Ashwin in the stars. If they have come 
 
 across one another, it can only be a chance con 
 
 Margery, what's the word I want^ " 
 
 " Conjunction," said Margery. 
 
 " I thank you," said Charles. " Conjugation came 
 more naturally to my mind. I have rather forgotten 
 my astrology, — a pity to let one's early studies slide. 
 Give me the sugar, Maud, and change the subject." 
 
 Charles was jealous, nevertheless: and the arrival 
 of Violet's next letter did not improve matters in 
 any degree. It was directed to him, and marked 
 " private " with three dashes conspicuously, which 
 would at ordinary times have consoled him for much 
 that it contained; but having read it to its last 
 corner, seeking for any phrase that was personally 
 flattering to him, he felt more injured than ever. 
 What on earth were these girls for, if not to encour- 
 age him? He was working very hard, entirely be- 
 cause Violet had suggested it. The result was, he 
 was loathing the prospect of German tutorships more 
 every day, and being more definitely attracted to 
 gardening, which was his own original idea. He 
 
192 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 foresaw a striking moment in the near future when 
 he would toss the book aside, and say amid the 
 assembled family, " Mother, I have decided to be a 
 gardener." It would have a great effect, and beat 
 Violet's weaker feminine efforts on the same lines 
 hollow. 
 
 He was running through details of this scene in 
 the early life of Charles Shovell, when Violet's letter 
 arrived. It began by announcing great news, and 
 Charles was led on to expect dramatic confidences 
 about Violet's self, and a difficulty in which his 
 advice should be demanded ; and then had the shock 
 of discovering that the " great news " concerned 
 another pair of people altogether. 
 
 It was, however, charmingly written, as were all 
 the documents he received from her hands; and 
 though she dealt with unsuitable and even unsavoury 
 things, the story was treated in a manner he could not 
 but admire. 
 
 The bald facts seemed to be, first, that Violet had 
 made the acquaintance of the Eccles mother, and was 
 shocked and horrified at the family's destitution ; and 
 secondly, that she was more than a little shocked 
 and horrified with Alice, for painting an interest- 
 ing and pathetic mother much blacker than she need. 
 
 " I am afraid Alice was a little angry with me," 
 said Violet innocently, " for calling about an hour 
 sooner than I said. But it gave me the chance of a 
 
LENNOXES 193 
 
 quiet talk with poor Mrs. Eccles, who seems a 
 terrible invalid, before Alice came in from her walk. 
 She seemed in great awe of her daughter, poor 
 woman ; but she was evidently so longing for her tea, 
 that I assured her visitors were always an Excuse. 
 Then, when Alice appeared, I found that had been 
 the wrong thing too. She and her mother were 
 clearly cross with one another about something, so 
 I did not stay long. Alice took me a walk instead 
 on Clapham Common, which is entirely new to me. 
 She saw me to a tram, and forgave me a little before 
 we parted. But the remarkable coincidence occurred 
 before that, in one part of the long history her mother 
 told me. 
 
 " She (Mrs. Eccles) is a woman of the lachrymose 
 order, constantly mourning the inevitable, — slightly 
 resembling the Mock Turtle in conversation. I 
 think, though friendly, she can never have been 
 more than milk-and-waterish, and the Eccleses, as 
 I know to my cost, are peppery. Alice corrected a 
 few of her mother's details later, but most of it she 
 finally admitted was quite true. 
 
 " Mrs. Eccles had tried, it appeared, during the 
 first months of her widowhood, never to let her 
 daughter see a man, lest the wrong sort should pounce 
 on her. That is the way, owing to her bringing 
 up, the poor woman looks on life. She was terribly 
 severe for a period, — a kind of Maria-Theresa and 
 
194 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 Catherine of Russia combined: and then gave way 
 suddenly. It seemed to me characteristic of Mrs. 
 Eccles that in the April after her husband's death 
 she boxed Alice's ears for accepting an apple from 
 a grocer's man who called her a nice little bit of 
 colour, — and that in August of the same year she 
 let her go to stay on a Farm in Devonshire, with a 
 cousin of her husband's, who had nine extremely 
 handsome children, four of whom were sons. It 
 seemed to surprise Mrs. Eccles immensely that two 
 of the said sons instantly fell in love with Alice; 
 because she is a person whom anything natural and 
 inevitable would surprise: whereas outrageous com- 
 binations such as Alice and Miss Lennox she takes 
 as a matter of course. She is not what I may call 
 sensitive to personality, — but you at least know 
 what I mean." 
 
 This was an instance of the kind of crumb Violet 
 cast to the patient Charles at intervals, and which 
 helped him through the impersonal mazes of her 
 description. The next paragraph, however, did 
 startle him a good deal. 
 
 " Now I come to the part where you can help me, 
 Charles. I will shorten the surprising history as 
 much as I can, for I know you are too busy to be 
 bothered. The farmer Mr. Eccles' cousin married 
 was called Peacock, and the rivals for Alice's 
 favour were called respectively Abel and Kit. [Not 
 
LENNOXES 195 
 
 Cain, I was glad to be reassured.] Kit was Alice's 
 favourite, and Abel, as usual, cared most for her. 
 Alice had evidently represented Kit to her mother 
 as a dangerous person, and gone about with an 
 elaborately broken heart. After I had talked to her 
 for quite a long time about the Peacock family on 
 Clapham Common, I discovered that the said Kit 
 was ten years old. 
 
 " I will not enlarge on the Kit part of the story, 
 which merely illustrates one of Alice's peculiarities. 
 Because you and dear Margery and the others are 
 bound to be more excited about Abel. It could be 
 no Abel but yours, I was convinced, having seen his 
 features once with my own eyes ; but with a mighty 
 effort I said nothing whatever to hint at a suspicion, 
 either to Mrs. Eccles, or to Alice. I thought it better 
 not, for reasons. ... I may add that I am 
 afraid Father is right about the Vane being no part 
 of the name originally, so for the good of his Soul I 
 shall tell him nothing of it either. . . . But I 
 am safe with you." 
 
 Charles swallowed the second crumb; and his in- 
 terest being now really engaged, proceeded eagerly. 
 
 " I warn you I have now told you practically all I 
 know, and what is left is largely feminine surmise. 
 I think there is a strong probability, having definitely 
 ruled out Kit, that Alice cared for Abel more 
 than she will confess. Her peculiarity, to which I 
 
196 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 alluded, is always to make herself out more flatly 
 insensible and less finely delicate by nature than she 
 is. Perhaps her mother being so finicking about 
 things has pushed her into Caricature. At least, I 
 observe that any hint of exaggerated refinement, 
 even dropped by inadvertence, sends her flying in- 
 stantly to grotesque extremes. I shall inform her 
 this is a weakness, when I dare. . . . Examples 
 of the above : she says her mother drinks, which I am 
 unable to believe, having seen the woman, even with 
 the coincidence of a rather red nose: and she said 
 she was gone on Kit Peacock, and even more com- 
 promising expressions, when he eventually turned 
 out to be ten years old. So I ask you, how is one to 
 believe without reserve her statements about Abel"? 
 
 " I allowed for a little pique when Alice said Abel 
 aped his betters, because it is exactly the last thing 
 in the world she would do herself. In fact she does 
 the contrary. Then she said he was a dunderheaded 
 Turnip, which seemed to refer partly to his pro- 
 vincial origin, and partly to imply he had not gone 
 about his wooing in the manner she approved. But 
 I see it would be so easy to run upon the Rocks in 
 proposing to Alice, that I feel for poor dear Peacock 
 more than ever. 
 
 " He was most persistent in his suit, making him- 
 self the laughing-stock of the district, according to 
 Alice, as long as she stayed down there. He left 
 
LENNOXES 197 
 
 home soon after she did, and took work near London, 
 doing, as even Alice admitted, extremely well. He 
 is the eldest of the Peacocks, and by no means to be 
 despised, really, though Alice despises him. He 
 came to call in Brixton every single Sunday, making 
 himself most acceptable to Mother, as Alice sarcas- 
 tically said, and bringing her presents of green tea. 
 And the more Airs. Eccles was taken by his appear- 
 ance and manners, the more unmercifully Alice dealt 
 with him. Having seen Alice and her mother, you 
 can imagine the kind of way it came about. Alice, 
 you can tell on sight, demands spirit in a man before 
 all. Poor Abel naturally found it hard to speak of 
 what lay on his heart, and, though they met so often, 
 never got any nearer to it. Alice said she could not 
 stand his stuttering at last, and performed the pro- 
 posal for him. And then the horrid girl had the 
 cruelty to tell him she had accepted one of his 
 brothers the year before, leaving him to wonder 
 which I (It appears Kit actually had asked her to 
 marry him, on a gate.) 
 
 " What happened after this, I cannot say. Alice 
 only told me he went off his head, what was left of it, 
 and shut her mouth. The whole thing occurred three 
 years ago, when she was seventeen. Of course, I 
 understand her attitude to men much better now, for 
 the Peacock affair exasperated her, for some reason, 
 almost past bearing. I incline to think it is Mothers, 
 
198 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 Charles, as usual; and that in her heart Alice regrets 
 her own behaviour, she speaks about it in such an 
 odd, defiant way. These misunderstandings between 
 excellent people are piteous things, I am sure you 
 will agree with me. I want to work on Fate a 
 little, — will you not help me"? It seems such an 
 opportunity, you at Peacock's elbow, and I at hers, 
 and I hope not too romantic to be feasible. Will 
 you tell me what you think, and not be too masculine 
 and crushing about it'^ I quite suspect you are deep 
 in his confidence by now." 
 
 " You see," Violet added, as an afterthought, " I 
 love Miss Eccles, and am ready to love Mr. Peacock, 
 very nearly, for loving her. She is a Great Artist, 
 and a wonderful girl." 
 
VI 
 
 CHARLES RETALIATES 
 
 In this manner, the train was started. Charles en- 
 joyed conspiracy of any kind, at least as much as 
 Violet; and was mildly flattered at being asked to 
 help her, even in another man's affairs. He was not 
 of course the least " romantic " about Violet's Miss 
 Eccles, whom he had never seen. But firstly, it 
 was a relief to his jealous soul to know that this 
 grasping personage was interested in another than 
 Violet; secondly, he was by no means above 
 curiosity; and thirdly, the quest offered an occu- 
 pation, even a kind of duty, which diverted him 
 from the study of the Teutonic tongue, and offered 
 also by the way, an excellent opportunity for teasing 
 Robert Brading. 
 
 Of course, nothing would induce him to betray 
 Violet's confidence; with all those dashes under the 
 word " private " on her envelope, that was under- 
 stood. Still, the day after the letter's arrival, 
 since Brading happened to be spending a night at 
 the Rectory, he could not resist the temptation of 
 
200 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 throwing a bomb among the unsuspecting family 
 at tea-time by observing — 
 
 " I have reason to believe, my brethren, that our 
 Vane-Peacock is in love." 
 
 Margery blushed instantly and deeply, which de- 
 lighted Charles, and deeply annoyed Mr. Brading. 
 Charles had already taken occasion to inform Bob 
 that, since his last visit to Glasswell, Margery had 
 been painting Mr. Peacock, morning, noon, and 
 night. This could not, on the face of it, be taken 
 literally; but Robert, owing partly to Margery, and 
 partly to home affairs to which he never alluded, 
 was in a nervous and depressed condition, and such 
 information was not likely to make him any happier. 
 If he had made the smallest appeal for sympathy on 
 either count, it need not be said, Charles would not 
 have teased him, for he was as soft-hearted as he 
 was light-headed. But Bob was a reserved person, 
 and had been growing more so of late; though he 
 seemed, silent as he was, to enjoy the air of Glasswell 
 Rectory more than that of any house in the various 
 neighbourhoods he frequented. 
 
 After the customary request from his mother not 
 to be absurd — 
 
 " In love," Charles repeated. " Not necessarily 
 with Margery, for all her flattering attentions. 
 More probably with some fair unknown." 
 
 "And what reason have you for thinking so?" 
 
LENNOXES 201 
 
 said Mrs. Gibbs sharply; for she never knew if 
 Charles was serious or not. 
 
 " Well, he does up some of the governor's flowers 
 every other day to send to her," 
 
 "Charlie I Really!" Protesting cries arose. 
 
 " Yes," said Charles, pleased by the stir he had 
 produced. " He does it openly too, which proves the 
 divine all-disregarding passion is upon him. Cupid 
 scoffs at the Commandments, — except of course the 
 one about loving your neighbour, which he occa- 
 sionally approves, for want of better opportunity." 
 
 Mrs. Gibbs begged him not to be so profane, and 
 Maud besought him to be more accurate. The 
 Rector, who had entered during the last sentence, 
 laughed. The gist of the conversation was naturally 
 repeated to him. 
 
 " I gave the man leave to send a few flowers to 
 his mother at Deptford," he said, looking over all the 
 heads towards his wife. " That's such a flowerless 
 quarter." 
 
 " Worse and worse," said Charles, looking pained. 
 " I happen to know from another authority that his 
 mother lives in Devonshire, a quarter where flowers 
 abound." 
 
 "What authority?" cried a chorus; and Charles 
 woke to find, as not infrequently in casual conversa- 
 tion, that his secret was in imminent danger of 
 escaping his control. 
 
202 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " Of course," he said, shifting the issue, " the V-P 
 regards the governor's roses as his own. That's the 
 first rule in the gardening manual. Also, the gov- 
 ernor takes no trouble to conceal from him that the 
 flowers, compared with certain other fruits of the 
 earth that shall be nameless, are of no importance, 
 and Peacock is a very literal person. A spade is a 
 spade to Peacock, — a Shovell likewise. " Having 
 thus obscured the issues to his own satisfaction, he 
 said impressively, — " I now leave the field to Mar- 
 gery." 
 
 " I have nothing to say," she said, " with 
 marked gentleness. Bob Brading was watching her 
 anxiously. 
 
 " Haven't you"? " said Charles, with reproach. 
 " I thought during your long lonely interviews, at 
 rosy morn and dewy eve, he would have told you 
 all about it. You are a woman, after all, which I 
 never pretended to be. Why, the mere fact that 
 the fellow made no bones about sitting to you 
 suggests that he's engaged, — or at least well- 
 accustomed to feminine society. When I told him 
 you would be at college in the autumn, and so out 
 of his way, he said, — " Indeed, sir," in a manner 
 which implied j^ou were less than nothing to him: 
 and suggested simultaneously that another girl is 
 more than something, — which proves my original 
 con 
 
LENNOXES 203 
 
 He received at this point a cushion in the mouth 
 from Mr. Brading, who had for some time been 
 wanting to speak. 
 
 " What led you to suppose, Shovell, that his 
 parents lived in Devonshire^ " he demanded in- 
 cisively. 
 
 " He seemed to think nothing of our cream," said 
 Charles, with the most fluent promptitude. But 
 Robert was not so easily thrown out. 
 
 " I am going to guess," he declared. " Was it Dr. 
 Ashwin*?" 
 
 " Dr. Ashwin'? " said Charles, gaping ingenuously. 
 "Lord no, my dear fellow, why should it be'?" 
 He was relieved at the false scent, for Brading was 
 rather sharp, and he did not care to be driven into 
 flat mendacity, even for Violet's sake. 
 
 "' All right," said Robert briefly. " I retire." He 
 glanced swiftly at his host's benevolent face, on 
 which a slow, faintly puzzled frown had appeared. 
 The Rector seemed seeking some lost thread in his 
 memory. 
 
 Seeing this expression, Robert was reminded that 
 he alone, of all the party that met that Sunday at 
 lunch, had perceived the possible connection between 
 the church-going criminal in Dr. Ashwin's story, 
 and the upright and impassive man who now 
 attended to the Rector's peas. Robert would have 
 
204 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 been a little ashamed of his prompt suspicion, if he 
 had not caught an electric spark from Dr. Ashwin's 
 eye that betrayed he shared it. Peacock's avoidance 
 of the Ashwin party by the natural-seeming ruse of 
 attending church had chanced to be the very step 
 that drew suspicion upon him. 
 
 What Robert could not recollect, though he teased 
 his memory, was whether Peacock and the Ashwin 
 party had ever come face to face. As soon as he 
 got Margery alone, he solved this question easily, — 
 they had. They must have done so, at the moment 
 when the gardener barely escaped the motor-wheels. 
 Robert left Margery, who seemed too willing to be 
 left, and retired, greatly vexed in his grave and 
 orderly mind. 
 
 " I wonder if I ought to do anything about it^ " 
 thought Robert. " The man may be pilfering here 
 for all I know. That story about his taking flowers 
 — Shovell was fooling probably, but I don't quite 
 like it all the same." 
 
 A thing he liked even less he would hardly admit 
 to himself, for it was to his kind and rather con- 
 ventional nature, an almost desecrating thought. But 
 Margery's blush haunted him, and the reports of her 
 long morning interviews with the straight-featured 
 scoundrel drove him, at intervals, to grind his teeth. 
 He would not confess his jealousy to himself, and 
 so, naturally, suffered the more. 
 
LENNOXES 205 
 
 He pondered if he would throw dignity to the 
 winds, and speak to Charles, or go straight to the 
 Rector at headquarters. He was sure of a fair 
 hearing, however absurd he seemed to himself, for 
 Mr. Gibbs was fond of him. Yet — each course 
 seemed to have its drawbacks, and all courses to be 
 rather low. He resolved to settle the one uncertain 
 issue first, that of the man's identity, and wrote a 
 note to Dr. Ashwin consisting of a single line. He 
 received by return of post a note consisting of a 
 single word, — " Yes." 
 
 After that. Bob took the situation to pieces anew, 
 painfully and conscientiously. Evidently Dr. Ash- 
 win's unwritten opinion was that the man should be 
 given his chance, free from the black mark tem- 
 porary insanity had set against his name. Dr. Ash- 
 win was his mother's old friend, and Robert respected 
 him. Also, he had implied clearly in the telling of 
 his tale, that the insane fit was connected with a 
 girl, — and in that matter Robert felt for Peacock, 
 as man for man. Girls were the very deuce when 
 they once took thorough possession of the mind. 
 Margery Gibbs, this little country clergyman's 
 daughter, was absolutely trampling upon his heart. 
 He could not keep away from her, and kept coming 
 back and back, though she had given him no en- 
 couragement whatever, and seemed rather to avoid 
 him than otherwise. He had freed himself of fears 
 
2o6 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 about Charles' intentions with regard to her only to 
 be filled anew, against his better judgment, with this 
 absurd unfounded jealousy of a handsome gardener. 
 Margery was an artistic girl, — art is charming. 
 What on earth had come to Robert that he could not 
 let her dabble her little water-colour studies in peace'? 
 
 He courted his torment that evening by asking to 
 see the contents of Margery's portfolio. Complicated 
 torture it held for him indeed : Peacock in every atti- 
 tude : head, body and legs of Peacock, distant, immi- 
 nent, side, front and back. The intolerable ass 
 seemed to be equally picturesque from either side, 
 and from every point of the compass. He seemed 
 to be a willing model : some of the studies even ap- 
 peared to exhibit a simper of gratification. 
 Margery's little fingers trembled with pride and 
 shyness in showing Bob the sketches. She even 
 talked to him a little. Peacock was such a good 
 sitter — statuesque. She did so hope Mr. Brading 
 thought she was getting on. She did so love doing 
 figures — better than flowers, yes. 
 
 And she had never asked Robert to sit to her, — 
 ah, furies I 
 
 Charles, having found out little or nothing about 
 Peacock's past during several very enjoyable inter- 
 views, bristling with his own ingenuous hints and 
 surmises, and punctuated by arid monosyllables from 
 the other party, felt he must find something to tell 
 
LENNOXES 207 
 
 Molet, and so informed her of the Abel-Margery 
 complication. He thought it rather amusing, and 
 worded it with some audacity in the style of the 
 special number of a Cambridge University magazine ; 
 and he forgot, as witty young men will do, that 
 Molet loved Margery, as well as Alice, the other 
 girl indirectly concerned; and that every word he 
 wrote would stir her sensibilities, and penetrate 
 through any armour to her heart. 
 
 "Charles, — oh, Charles, — how terrible!'' her 
 next letter to him began. " Do, do reassure me that 
 it is not as you say I You must be joking, aren't 
 you ■? At first I refused to think it possible, and then 
 I began just to see how such a thing could occur. 
 There is something about strength and beauty un- 
 vexed by foolish emotion and the currents of modern 
 Thought quite dreadful in its silent magnetism. I 
 flashed by Peacock, that Sunday in the car, but I 
 felt even in that second of time the man's singular 
 fascination. Isn't it natural for people like us, who 
 are teased perpetually by our brains, to ask ourselves 
 at times — what do brains matter after all? I am 
 much afraid girls are like that anyhow. I am much 
 afraid Margery may be. I always loved Hermes 
 and Apollo more, not less, for their contented silly 
 faces, — precisely as you love the expression in cats 
 and cows. And picture an Apollo, for poor Margery, 
 come to life ! I am miserable thinking of it. You 
 
2o8 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 have distressed me exceedingly. I thought Mr. 
 Blading and darling Margery were so safe^ yes, there 
 is the truth I I am Snobbish on the subject, anything 
 you like. I cannot allow you to treat the tragedy 
 you hint at lightly. Tear this up." 
 
 Charles tore it unwillingly, for he thought it a 
 charming letter, and more like those ideal " kind of 
 things girls wrote " than any he had ever yet received 
 in Violet's hand. He was glad, too, she was capable 
 of that pleasant feminine weakness of being indiffer- 
 ent about brains in man, so long as man was person- 
 able, strong and socially presentable. All this was 
 just as it should be; and indeed, he had suspected 
 it, for all her evident wish to dazzle the world on 
 paper. 
 
 Charles smiled and whistled a good deal as he 
 walked about the house and garden, on the morning 
 of the arrival of that letter. 
 
VII 
 
 FRIENDS 
 
 It is hard to determine at what exact stage of their 
 intercourse Miss Eccles discovered that Miss Ashwin 
 had a " friend." In the circles of the young ladies 
 from Brixton who travelled daily with Alice by 
 tram and poured into either ear their triumphs and 
 sorrows alternately, to have a " friend " was correct 
 and natural. A friend (of the male sex understood) 
 was the consequent adjunct of maturity. The young 
 ladies walked with theirs, on affable or stately terms 
 according to their nature, they rode or rinked with 
 him, teased or tiffed with him, took him or were 
 taken to theatres and picture palaces. The friend 
 was liable to change, naturally: sometimes he 
 changed suddenly, in " Sturm und Drang," some- 
 times he slid into another combination or set piece, 
 like a kaleidoscope. More rarely he disappeared or 
 " behaved badly," and the young lady wore the 
 willow. Her manner of doing this, whether silently, 
 significantly, or showily, was the surest mark of her 
 breeding. 
 
 Alice Eccles, for instance, was known to have had 
 a friend, — possibly several : but one in especial to 
 
210 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 whom she " made a point of never alluding," even 
 under the most lively provocation. This behaviour 
 was perfect, and marked Alice down as the " real 
 sort," a type most of the Brixton young persons 
 would fain have imitated, but generally speaking, 
 could not. They could never avoid, when confidence 
 was pushed to extremes, a little abuse of the default- 
 ing gentleman, or at least, some ornamental self- 
 defence. Alice, in their society, never abused hers. 
 Her designation of him as a " turnip " to Violet was 
 exceptional. For firstly, on that occasion the con- 
 fidence had already been given away, and Alice's 
 remark a commentary and corrective, more or less 
 humorous, to her mother's story; and secondly, 
 Alice's terms of acquaintance with Violet were ad- 
 mittedly quite different from those easy bonds that 
 connected her with her travelling companions. 
 
 How these terms came about, neither girl quite 
 knew. They were not alike, save in a certain un- 
 compromising turn, and love of a definite issue, 
 whether in life or talk. They shared a contempt for 
 dilator}' or " fluffy " ways. Humour they shared 
 too, though of a differing flavour; and curiosity. 
 The opportunity of looking into one another's lives 
 had the charm of novelty half-suspected, of partially 
 imagined facts. Lastly the valuable ingredient of 
 partisanship united them, the understanding they 
 shared regarding the head of the firm. 
 
LENNOXES 211 
 
 Violet had been quite successful in her cunning 
 schemes as regarded Miss Lennox. With the 
 timely co-operation of Casselses, that lady had been 
 practically driven out, first to a doctor, and then 
 to Ramsgate for a month. Shop, properly so called, 
 was shut while she was away; but she was inspired 
 by natural kindliness and careful prompting to leave 
 Miss Eccles the key of the studio, that she might 
 use it for her private work. This suited Alice pre- 
 cisely, for she had small space or leisure at home. 
 Apart from the business of the firm, she accepted, 
 on her own account, trousseau and under-linen orders, 
 to fill in Lennoxes' slack times ; for, though Alice took 
 a special pride in those cutting and tailoring talents 
 which verge upon the man's department, and sniffed 
 a little at the feminine " white work," she really 
 enjoyed it for a change, especially when she had a 
 companion. She was engaged now on a large double 
 order at short notice, and when Violet proffered her 
 services, Alice accepted them gratefully, and without 
 scruple ; for in the purely feminine department, even 
 she admitted Miss Ashwin's " meticulous " fairy fin- 
 gers were of value. 
 
 Their friendship flourished, encouraged by the 
 common interest. Two girls cannot sew together, 
 especially at the delicate wardrobes destined for 
 birth and marriage, without a constant inspiration 
 to intimate chatter; and Alice was soon telling Violet 
 
212 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 things she had never breathed to a girl before. She 
 was aware she got less confidence than she gave, not 
 by any design on Violet's part, but because such 
 reticence belonged to her self-knowledge and sus- 
 ceptibility. Violet had the fear of herself that results 
 from habitual, life-long introspection; she did not 
 easily betray the inner stores she had counted so 
 often and so carefully. She greatly preferred to 
 listen to, and comment on other histories. 
 
 So Alice enlarged on the theme of friends, — mas- 
 culine preferred, — and tried with practised guile to 
 find out more about Mr. Shovell. The terms on 
 which Violet and this gentleman appeared to be 
 beat everything Alice had ever heard of, in history 
 or fiction. She and Miss Ashwin, for a long time, 
 seemed to be in danger of an utter failure to adjust 
 their ideas on the subject, though they, or rather 
 Alice, hammered at it constantly. 
 
 " Either you're fond of him, or you're not," said 
 Alice. " That's only sense." 
 
 "Of course I'm fond of Charles," said Violet. 
 " He is a quite delightful person. He is something 
 like a nice baby. If you saw him once, you'd under- 
 stand." 
 
 "How old did you say he was*?" said Alice. 
 " Twenty- three*? Well, you know what you're after 
 at twenty- three, according to my experience." 
 
 " I won't misunderstand you," said Violet. " You 
 
LENNOXES 213 
 
 mean he is after me. But you are mistaken, Alice. 
 Now, let me consider: I won't call him friend, be- 
 cause that seems to have a quite untieard-of significa- 
 tion. Admirer, I suppose, is worse." 
 
 " Much the same," said Alice, biting a thread. 
 " Admirer is down the scale a bit, and follower is 
 lower still." 
 
 " Please don't tell Father I have a follower," said 
 Violet. 
 
 ''Well," said Alice, "he followed you here. 
 Monday he called, and you went down to see him, 
 wasn't it'? " 
 
 " Yes. He brought me a note from his sister." 
 
 " Oh yes I " said Alice. 
 
 " I wish," said Violet, " I had asked him up; but 
 he was a little shy of disturbing us." 
 
 " He would be," said Alice. Silence between the 
 pair. 
 
 " I am afraid, Alice, you are deficient in imagina- 
 tion," said Violet. " It would perhaps not be possible 
 to you to have a Charles. Still, you had a Kit once, 
 I remember. Turn your mind upon Kit, and then 
 imagine, — hard." 
 
 " It's no good imagining men are the same at ten 
 and twenty-three," said Alice, " because they're not. 
 If anyone's imagination is off it, it's yours, my dear." 
 
 " Was Kit clever*? " said Violet sweetly. 
 
 " Rather I " said Alice, glowing. " Sharp as they're 
 
214 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 made. All the Peacocks were, but Abel. It's a 
 wonder to me Abel ever learnt to speak. I don't see 
 what this has to do with the subject." 
 
 " I am trying to project my idea of friendship 
 upon your mind, that's all. Did other people under- 
 stand Kit's nature, or only you"? " 
 
 " There were nine people besides me," said Alice, 
 reflecting on the matter, " ten counting the char- 
 woman, who spoilt him regularly. His mother was 
 silly about him, being the last. I told her he'd go to 
 the bad, if they all went on at the rate they were 
 going; but I couldn't help kissing him when he sat 
 upon my knee." 
 
 Violet admitted sadly that the case was not the 
 same. Alice had stopped work, thinking of Christo- 
 pher Peacock, her early love. Her face, as she 
 dreamed on him, rocking in Miss Lennox's chair, was 
 beautiful. Violet, having looked at her for an 
 instant, hid her own face in her hands. 
 
 " What's the matter, deary'? " said Alice, starting 
 round. 
 
 " Oh," said Violet, " it's only so wicked you should 
 be here, and not in a beautiful farm, with children. 
 Of course that's where you ought to be." 
 
 " Not other people's children, thank you," said 
 Alice. 
 
 " Not other people's, no — your own. Alice, 
 listen. I am going to be terribly impertinent. Could 
 
LENNOXES 215 
 
 you not forgive Abel, if you found him again, and he 
 still cared for you^ " 
 
 " Come to that, I know he cares," said Alice. 
 
 " Do you*? " said Violet quickly. " How ^ " 
 
 " See those flowers'? " Alice nodded to the bunch 
 of roses in Miss Lennox's blue vase. " Where do you 
 suppose they come from to me regularly, twice a 
 week"? " 
 
 Miss Ash win looked blank a moment. Con- 
 spirators are prepared for most things, but this 
 stroke was unexpected. She had innocently admired 
 a rose in the bunch that morning, because it re- 
 minded her of Uncle Arthur's garden at Glasswell. 
 What if the flowers really did come thence *? What a 
 painful suspicion to drop on a hero of romance I 
 
 "Tell me a little more," she said to Alice dis- 
 creetly. 
 
 " The one thing Abel and me always agreed about, 
 was flowers," said Alice. " Down there at the farm, 
 the way he kept his mother's garden was a sight. 
 Later he had an allotment near London, and sent to 
 me straight from there. I suppose, wherever he is, 
 he has got one now." 
 
 " But don't you know where he is, — by the 
 boxes'?" 
 
 " No," said Alice briefly. " He brings 'em up, I 
 suppose, or sends them by hand. Abel was sly about 
 nothing, always; that's the way of blockheads." 
 
2i6 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 "And you accept them'?" said Violet, her eye- 
 brows up. " I only want to know, dear, — is that all 
 right?" 
 
 Alice grinned at her cheerfully. " All correct," 
 she said. " He directs to Mother, with a line inside, 
 hoping she'll accept, from hers respectfully. 'J'kafs 
 done in the best circles." 
 
 Violet leant back in her chair again. Really, the 
 situation was rather comic, but she dared not laugh. 
 Perhaps Uncle Arthur had given Peacock leave to 
 send. Poor Mrs. Eccles was his cousin, after all, 
 and a kind of invalid. All might be well, though it 
 looked a little shady on the surface. And it was 
 nice (though funny) of Peacock to remember Alice 
 with such clockwork regularity, when she had re- 
 jected him with crushing scorn. 
 
 " It's a great thing," she said delicately to Alice, 
 " To have a taste in common, isn't it? I think roses 
 are a charming attention. Now that sort of thing, 
 Alice, my friend Mr. Shovell omits to do. Mightn't 
 that be a fine distinction between the sorts? " 
 
 " I daresay," said Alice. " He's a gentleman, — 
 the genuine article." 
 
 "That is not what I meant; please don't be dis- 
 agreeable. I meant a distinction between the sort 
 of friend Charles is, and will always be, to me, and 
 Abel is, or would fain be, to you." 
 
 Alice laughed. " As you like," she said. " It may 
 be the other thing I said as well." 
 
LENNOXES 217 
 
 " No," said Violet. " For a lover, it is correct, if a 
 little old-fashioned. There is the Marquis de Fer- 
 volles, who is as fine a gentleman as anyone would 
 wish to see." 
 
 " Does he send you flowers? " said Alice sharply. 
 
 " No. He sends lovely nosegays to Mother, 
 though, — which I put in water. Not the least the 
 same as your case," she added hastily. " No compli- 
 ment at all to me intended. He is simply Mother's 
 follower, not mine, do you see? Of that I have 
 evidence and to spare." 
 
 " I don't like that word in your mouth," observed 
 Miss Eccles. " I wish I hadn't used it. Everyone 
 should talk their own way, unless they want to be 
 mistaken. I don't like the insinuation either. Miss 
 Ashwin, to tell the truth. I don't know much of 
 Marquises and their doings, naturally. But even if 
 it's the case as you say, she's your mother, and it 
 doesn't seem to me you ought to " 
 
 " You are perfectly right, Alice," said Violet 
 piteously. " But didn't I tell you we were fast I I'm 
 hardly fit to consort with. I thought you would be 
 prepared." 
 
 " I saw your mother," said Alice, gathering dig- 
 nity. " And naturally, I knew what to expect. Very 
 well. You know me, and you can leave me to gather 
 the rest, without making what I might call glaring 
 statements. That's what the newspapers do, — the 
 cheaper ones. Personally " 
 
2i8 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " Personally, you call it questionable taste," said 
 Violet. " I know you do, dear. So do L So does 
 Charles, probably. But that's just ?7ie^ all over.." 
 
 "You mean you speak to him about it"?" Miss 
 Eccles' severity grew blank. She ceased work to gaze 
 at Violet. 
 
 " I am afraid I do, and have done from the first 
 meeting. Does that make me quite impossible *? " 
 
 "And you call yourself reticent," said Alice, 
 scoring with a thimble on the table. " Fine lot of 
 reticence about that." 
 
 " But, Alice, listen." Miss Ashwin leant forward 
 to reason with her critic. " When it's a glaring fact, 
 why not a glaring statement *? " 
 
 "Because," — Alice walked over her calmly, — 
 " when it's your mother, you gloss it over. Facts and 
 statements alike, you do. Mothers are mothers, and 
 I'll hear nothing against that view." 
 
 Another pause. There was a weak place in Miss 
 Eccles' admirable armour, and Violet was wondering 
 whether she had courage to attack it. She gathered 
 courage, consciously and by degrees. 
 
 " Alice," she said. " Tou told me once that your 
 mother drinks." 
 
 Miss Eccles blushed charmingly. " So she does," 
 she said hastily, " but that's a kind of joke, and 
 different." 
 
 " I don't believe," said Violet with melancholy 
 
LENNOXES 219 
 
 intensity, " it's even true. I think it far worse to 
 make charges against your mother that are false, 
 than even to make true ones. There I " 
 
 " Is that your opinion^ " said Alice. 
 
 " It is," said Violet. Silence. 
 
 " Sometimes I've wondered," said Alice, " if I 
 would tell you about that, some time. But then I've 
 thought, better not. You might not understand me. 
 It's a joke with vexation at the root of it, like so 
 many jokes." 
 
 " Dear Alice," murmured Violet. " No, you must 
 not trouble to tell me. I believe I know the greater 
 part." 
 
 " Abel's at the bottom of it," said Alice. " Did you 
 guess that? Oh no, little darling, not you I I don't 
 know what it was in Abel that rubbed me up con- 
 tinually, making me do and say what I'd rather not. 
 Well, perhaps you saw through the drinking puzzle, 
 being such a clever pussy," 
 
 " I have regretted ever since," said Violet, " that 
 I let her drink so much that day. I put two and two 
 together, which is a thing mere Board-school children 
 can do, very soon after that. I thought it funny of 
 you not to warn me, since you knew strong tea was 
 dangerous for her. I have found out about the 
 craving from Father, and the possible results, and 
 almost torn my hair to think I did not follow your 
 meaning more readily. It seem« 'J^ innocent, doesn't 
 it, in the early stages." 
 
220 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " So it does," said Alice. " You mean to tell me, 
 you went and talked to a doctor about such things^ " 
 She shuddered, quite genuinely. " I wouldn't have 
 thought it of you." 
 
 " I wanted to know," said Violet. " And Father 
 is beautifully clear, even when he treads among 
 Horrors. Of course there are some things — I often 
 wonder how he can bear it himself." 
 
 " Oh, men," said Alice. 
 
 " Father is not quite a man," said Violet. " No, — 
 stop, — I won't hear you on that subject." She held 
 up a hand, and Alice laughed. Alice had seen fit to 
 judge Dr. Ashwin far too hastily, on the evidence of 
 her one meeting with him, the day he was being 
 slowly forced to miss a train. As Violet contended, 
 no one can be at their best on such an occasion. 
 " Tell me how Abel was responsible for the drinking- 
 puzzlement," she said, to shift the subject. 
 
 " I'll try to," said Alice, stopping work. " I can't 
 use your words. I told you Abel drove me mad by 
 always setting up to be better than he was. Some 
 people admire that; Mum, for instance, but I can't 
 stick pretension. The trouble with Abel all along 
 was, he took in Mother too easily. And he thought, 
 no doubt, in the cunning way of silly people, if he 
 could diddle Mum, she being the genuine article, he 
 could diddle me. He did it well, I can tell you ! At 
 times I got tired, teasing him to no purpose. I 
 
LENNOXES 221 
 
 couldn't catch him oft" his guard, and he wouldn't 
 lose his temper, nor would he take a glass, for all my 
 pressing him. A blue ribbon, church-going man, my 
 dear, and one of Nature's gentlemen, — that's what 
 Mother said, so as to get round the little drawback 
 of the name. He read the Bible to her before he 
 left, — might have been a blessed curate by his 
 soapy voice — no, I couldn't stick it anyhow. I 
 believed there was something behind, some devil, 
 and my devil got awake in me longing to bring it 
 out. I told him Mother drank, that day we had it 
 out together, when he was singing her praises. I 
 said it just to see him blink and stop. But even then 
 he didn't lose his temper. I don't know if he be- 
 lieved it, I'm sure, — I don't know if he even took 
 it in, — but that's what suggested the fashion of 
 speech to me, in the beginning. I didn't mean ex- 
 actly to be funny, but it relieved me somehow. She 
 does drink," finished Alice, as though arguing with 
 herself. 
 
 " And you never found a devil in the poor man, 
 after all," said Violet. 
 
 "Didn't I'?" said Alice grimly. "All right." 
 She turned to her work. 
 
 " You might at least have sent him away for 
 three years, to prove himself worthy of you," argued 
 Violet in Abel's interest. " Like the stories." 
 
 " Yes, I might," said Alice, working hard. 
 
222 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " Instead of that I sent him away for three months, 
 and he spent 'em in disgracing his father's name." 
 
 " Alice ! " 
 
 " Yes? " 
 
 "Is that true *?" 
 
 Miss Eccles lifted her proud head on her fine neck, 
 and as she gazed full at Violet, her beautiful long 
 eyes were full of tears. 
 
 " I ought never to have told you, of course," she 
 said. " I don't know how you drag things out, I'm 
 sure. But I don't think you'll let it go further. 
 That's why I broke with Abel, really. A police 
 officer called — never mind for what. Mum said it 
 was my fault, called me names, — she was half 
 frantic with the shame of it, — no wonder! I was 
 frightened to death, thinking of his mother. She'd 
 been so good to me. ... If you'd seen him, 
 sitting week after week in our front room, like an 
 image in his clean collar, you'd have been frightened 
 too. It's his collar I kept thinking of . . . 
 it's not fair to turn on a girl like that." She had 
 covered her eyes with her hand, striving to find 
 words, but unable, evidently. " Oh, my God, that 
 night I — and I was only seventeen. That taught 
 me what men are, once for good. I'd never trust 
 them now." 
 
 " They set him on his legs again," she resumed 
 
LENNOXES 223 
 
 after a period, when \'iolet had consoled her. " He 
 fell very soft, considering. He didn't deserve half 
 he got. The Peacocks do get round people, same 
 way my little Kit did once. I'll never see Kit again, 
 nor them down there. Not that they'd really think 
 I'm answerable, — they're blessed good folk, — but I 
 couldn't face them, not with that on my mind. I 
 remember it at nights sometimes, — the hot nights 
 like that one was. . . . To see the viciousness 
 spring out of a man's face, my dear, — all the bad 
 of him at once, — I hope you never may. He'd been 
 so quiet up to then, nice-spoken and all." She waited, 
 mastering her emotion steadily. " Oh well," she 
 said, " I expect he'll marry a lady. That's what he's 
 fitted for best, and w^hat I told him to do." 
 
 " Alice I " Violet implored. " You don't know 
 what you're saying." 
 
 " Don't I, dear? You never saw him. Abel's all 
 right. He's not a bad fellow really. He did behave 
 badly, but I think he learnt his lesson. He's a finer 
 man to look at than my father was, and Father 
 made a good marriage, I mean according to that 
 standard. Mum's father was a bishop's chaplain, 
 and if that's not all right, what is?" 
 
 By this time she had winked her tears away, and 
 smiled at Violet through the mist that remained. 
 She looked exquisitely lovely, and the other girl. 
 
224 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 still and attentive, could not draw her eyes away. 
 It has a nobility all its own, that resignation of a 
 proud spirit to lasting self-reproach. 
 
 " When Abel was on his feet again," she told 
 Violet gently, " I wrote a line, just to say I was glad 
 to hear. It was just all I could manage. He never 
 answered it." 
 
 " Except by flowers," said Violet. She mused a 
 little longer, her chin supported on her hand, her 
 grey eyes resting upon Alice. " Peacock's Farm," 
 she said, " I suppose his home is called." 
 
 " Holybrook Farm, near Barnstaple," said Alice 
 quickly. " But he's not there, I know that. They 
 wouldn't have him. His father drew the line, after 
 — what I was telling you. Jem'U get the farm, — 
 the next. That's justice." She bit her lip. 
 
 " Poor Abel," said Violet softly. She turned her 
 eyes upon her work, which had lain untouched for 
 ten minutes at least. " Darling, I have set this 
 sleeve all wrong," she observed, with the same air of 
 pensive detachment, her head still resting on her 
 hand. " It looks extraordinary, even for the 
 youngest child." 
 
 Alice snatched it from her to examine. " It's ail 
 right," she said, after a moment. But the talk 
 turned upon technicalities, whither it is not necessary 
 to follow it further. 
 
VIII 
 
 A MARQUIS BECOMES OF INTEREST 
 
 Matters had not advanced much further than 
 this, when Violet broke down. It was a very hot 
 season, and Alice had warned her that she would, 
 if she persisted in doing without a holiday. Violet 
 replied that nothing but regular occupation saved 
 her from suicide, in the conditions of accumulating 
 horror at home; and Alice pointed out sensibly that 
 such misleading exaggeration was a symptom. 
 
 As a fact, the girl looked whiter every day during 
 their period of busy seclusion, and the state of 
 desperation to which she was always subject at 
 intervals seemed to have become a permanency. 
 Fortunately, as she told Alice, her " off times " and 
 her father's were the same, — thus making it possible 
 to Violet to exist amid horror, apparently, in order 
 to be at his^ide. 
 
 One morning she walked in with the news that 
 Lennoxes was honoured with an order from Mrs. 
 Claude Ashwin, and that the forewoman of the 
 said concern was to go up and see about it immedi- 
 ately. Alice allowed herself an objurgation for the 
 
226 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 sake of appearances; but she pinned on her hat 
 with a spark in her eye which suggested some private 
 interest in the prospect. She had never forgotten 
 Mrs. Ashwin, and mentioned her at intervals as 
 though, like Mr. Gibbs, she was permanently ready 
 for further light on the subject. She mounted the 
 car, therefore, looking extremely haughty for 
 Joliffe's benefit, and swirled away in state to Violet's 
 home, where she and Eveleen had a short armoured 
 controversy. 
 
 Miss Eccles arrived very soon at the gist of the 
 affair, for all Mrs. Ashwin's languor in detailing it. 
 There was nothing abstruse in the idea, indeed, being 
 Eveleen's. She had pretended to want a morning- 
 gown, but what she really wanted was a maid. She 
 desired also to save money, and replace Leontine on 
 cheaper terms. She was going to stay at a smart 
 country place, with some grandees at whose title Alice 
 schemed to arrive in vain. The little London girl 
 who had hitherto " managed " for her was not 
 sufficient to support Mrs. Ashwin's dignity in these 
 surroundings; and she had done Miss Eccles the 
 honour of thinking of her in Fanny's stead. Nothing 
 was to come of it eventually, so far as Alice could 
 discover, but Mrs. Ashwin's convenience, — a thing 
 for which, in her own household, the gods did strive. 
 
 Whereupon, — having collected all the evidence 
 conscientiously, that she might be sure of wasting 
 
LENNOXES 227 
 
 no effect, — Alice uprose in all her young splendour, 
 and told Mrs. Ashwin what she thought. What 
 Alice thought we cannot presume to put down, for 
 she considered herself insulted by the proposal, and 
 that was a situation that suited her and her best 
 vocabulary to perfection. She had whole phrases 
 ready-made and stored against the necessity, some 
 of which had languished long unuttered; for there 
 was sufficient vivacity in Alice's outer aspect to check 
 insult, as a rule, on the brink. Her speech, though 
 lively, was not long; but the result was, as Alice had 
 hoped, to " do Mrs. Ashwin's business " completely. 
 It also did Alice's, by the way. The fact was, 
 nobody had ever so treated Eveleen before, and the 
 noval sensation stirred her rather agreeably. She 
 had genuinely thought the girl would jump at the 
 opportunity of exchanging that stuffy little hole at 
 Battersea for Dering Park, one of the finest places 
 in England. Since she did not jump, however, 
 Eveleen abandoned it calmly, and recurred to the 
 question of costumes. In these matters, her instinct 
 was sure; and, as a result of Alice's eloquence, and 
 the somewhat prolonged contemplation of Alice's 
 clothes and figure that eloquence allowed, Eveleen 
 gave her more commissions than she had intended, 
 one the remodeling of an important theatre-cloak. 
 
 " I am going down to the country this afternoon," 
 she observed, as Miss Eccles gathered up the things 
 
228 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 to depart. " Do you happen to know if Violet in- 
 tends to come with me"? " 
 
 " I presume she does not, Mrs. Ashwin," said 
 Alice in her customer-y manner, " since I left her 
 settling in for a day's work at Battersea. I've no 
 doubt she'd be the better for it, though. If I were 
 you, I'd make her go." 
 
 Eveleen did not answer at once, and Alice, charged 
 as she was in advance, rather trembled for the effects 
 of her own insolence. 
 
 "Is she doing it out of obstinacy'?" said the 
 mother at last, as though to herself. 
 
 " You never thought she would keep it up, did 
 you*?" said Alice. "I dare say it rather puts you 
 out." 
 
 "What's she looking like?" said Eveleen. "I 
 have hardly seen her lately," she added, as the girl 
 swung round upon her to glare. 
 
 " Oh, — she's looking thin and pretty as usual. 
 Tired a bit, — she feels the heat." 
 
 " Her clothes are all right," murmured Eveleen. 
 
 " Looks like hers don't keep," said Alice cheer- 
 fully. " She's the kind that looks ugly after a bad 
 night." 
 
 Eveleen turned, her chin resting upon a ringed 
 hand. " What do you call her, may I ask"? " 
 
 Alice set her lips. " Miss Ashwin, I call her. She 
 calls me Alice." 
 
LENNOXES 229 
 
 " Why don't you call her Violet? " 
 
 " 'Cause I won't," said Miss Eccles; adding 
 haughtily, " and because I can't pronounce it." 
 
 "You can't?" 
 
 " No: none of us Cockneys can." 
 
 Eveleen left the point, as though satisfied, and 
 mentioned that she would be coming through town 
 again on such a day, and could be fitted at such a 
 time, if convenient to Miss Lennox. 
 
 " We'll make it convenient," said Alice, calmly, 
 and appended as a happy afterthought, " I am your 
 height and shape, more or less, so Miss Ashwin can 
 fit, provisionally, on me." Then she took her de- 
 parture, and drew a breath when she got outside. 
 
 " I cheeked your mother, dear," she explained to 
 Violet. " I'm bound to, or I should be afraid of her. 
 I hope she's not offended, for your sake. She didn't 
 show any sign." 
 
 " She never does," said Violet. " That is Mother's 
 secret. I only wish to goodness I could imitate it, 
 and Father too; but for the life of us both, we 
 can't." 
 
 As it happened, however, Eveleen was less con- 
 tent with life than her cool appearance had led 
 Alice to expect. She had made up her mind to have 
 Violet with her for this visit, and for more reasons 
 than one. In the first place, the old master of Bering 
 Park had sent a personal request for the girl, who 
 
230 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 was a favourite with him, and it is worth while in 
 life to pay attention to requests from such quarters. 
 So Mrs. Ashwin had allowed it, though doubtfully, 
 the first place in her considerations. Next, owing to 
 Miss Eccles' recent show of spirit, she was now con- 
 demned to go without assistance, and her daughter's 
 clever hands were better than nothing, as she had 
 frequently proved. Violet was both adroit and 
 obliging, like Claude, and she naturally had more 
 experience than Claude in details of feminine toilette. 
 This was worth consideration, beyond any doubt at 
 all. To conclude, and say all in a word, she was 
 taking M. de Fervolles with her in Claude's place, — 
 uninvited; and though she had no instant's doubt 
 she could extend her segis to him, and make anyone 
 she chose to bring in her train acceptable to her 
 hosts, it did seem preferable even to Eveleen, — since 
 she intended to exhibit him as a pretendu for 
 her daughter, — that the daughter in question should 
 be on view. 
 
 These practical thoughts swam slowly across 
 her horizon at intervals during the peaceful morn- 
 ing hours, and affected, beyond any doubt, the 
 trend of subsequent events: which, with due respect 
 to Mrs. Ashwin's mental methods, we detail in 
 order. 
 
 The Marquis did not appear to lunch, though an 
 empty place proclaimed he had been expected. After 
 
LENNOXES 231 
 
 the meal, finding herself for once alone with her 
 husband, Eveleen curled herself sidelong in a chair 
 in an attitude that signified she was in a mood to 
 converse. The girlish attitude was charming, and 
 Claude might have been not unwilling on his side, 
 had he been at leisure. As it was, he had his back 
 turned to her at the bureau, and was engaged in 
 making notes on letters against time, and inter- 
 viewing his secretary, at intervals, simultaneously. 
 
 Eveleen looked at his back discontentedly. She 
 supposed he was " in a temper," — her own term for 
 certain moods. She had not been thinking much 
 about him lately, but when she did turn her thoughts 
 that way, it was annoying not to have his notice in 
 return. He had been tiresomely inattentive to de 
 FervoUes too, though she had dangled that gentle- 
 man in his foreground very conspicuously. It did 
 not occur to Claude, apparently, that he could be 
 useful in the matter of Violet. He was, at times, 
 culpably dull and unobservant, considering his repu- 
 tation. He looked right through things which might 
 really be said to stare him in the face ; and attended 
 to other disagreeable trifles instead. 
 
 At the present moment he was attending to a 
 letter he had taken from his pile, reading it in his 
 singularly still manner of concentration, — no temper 
 apparent to the view. When Eveleen remarked, 
 just to open the conversation, that he was turning 
 
232 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 grey behind his ear, he said, " Really? " in a per- 
 fectly abstracted tone, and continued reading. 
 
 "Who's that letter from'?" said Eveleen. 
 
 He moved the sheet so that the signature, " Elinor 
 Brading," became visible to her, — nothing else. 
 This laziness was revolting to Eveleen, who liked to 
 be answered politel)''. Presently he jerked the sheet 
 aside with a youthful gesture, and observed, to 
 himself, not her, — " I wish women ever realised the 
 point at which the friendly obligation and the other 
 divide." 
 
 " Let me see," said Eveleen, stretching a white 
 hand to the sheet. 
 
 " Sorry," said Claude, abstracting, folding, and 
 pocketing it firmly. Eveleen frowned at the dis- 
 courtesy. However, on reflection, she found she was 
 unable to be jealous of Lady Brading, who valued 
 Claude in a manner she could not imitate, certainly, 
 — but in no manner to matter the least. She had 
 been his sister's friend, and was, — Eveleen calcu- 
 lated at leisure, — older than he. Further, she was 
 older even than her age with grief and anxiety, so 
 she really could not be taken seriously by anybody. 
 
 " I suppose Elinor wants you to attend him 
 again," she remarked, " now he is weaker and less 
 cantankerous." 
 
 " That was not her object in writing," said Claude. 
 
 " Of course you would never admit it was," said 
 
LENNOXES 233 
 
 Eveleen contentedly. She curled a little more in 
 her chair, which proved comfortable, and laid her 
 head down sidelong. He was only writing things 
 now, and could not long keep up his pretence of being 
 too busy to look at her. He spoke soon, sure enough, 
 though absently. 
 
 "Joliffe's late, isn't he*?" he said. "Are you 
 going down alone? " 
 
 " De Fervolles," enumerated Eveleen, " and 
 Violet. I have sent him down to fetch her." 
 
 Instantly she got a glance. " Sent de Fervolles*? 
 What on earth for'? " 
 
 " I thought it would amuse him," said Eveleen, 
 " and I wanted a little more time. That girl Fanny 
 is so slow with the boxes." 
 
 " I see," he said, turning back again. " You sent 
 him with sealed orders, did you? Or trusted him to 
 persuade her? " 
 
 " I never suppose a man like that will not use his 
 tongue," said Eveleen. "' As for sealed orders, I said 
 I wanted her. Frenchmen never imagine mothers 
 can be disobeyed." She rolled her lip out prettily. 
 " Anyhow," she concluded, " he will enjoy a scene, 
 and I do not." 
 
 " A change of scene," Claude suggested, opening a 
 new letter. " I don't think you can assume he is 
 not at home in an atelier, you know. You can 
 assume nothing about those persons." 
 
234 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " The woman is there," said Eveleen. A pause, 
 during which, though he knew better, he did not 
 contradict her. Between those two girls, indeed, 
 he was mildly sorry for de Fervolles. His lip 
 curled over his reading as he pictured the inter- 
 view. 
 
 " Do you like him, Claude'? " Eveleen demanded. 
 
 " Well, — he reads decently," said Claude at 
 leisure: or rather not at leisure, for he was writing. 
 
 " I thought you would notice that," said Eveleen 
 with satisfaction. " I told him to take an oppor- 
 tunity to read that poem to Violet, after I had gone 
 out last night." 
 
 " Ahl I fear the opportunity did not occur." 
 
 " Why not ^" 
 
 " Because," said he, having apparently weighed 
 the question accurately in all its bearings while 
 he addressed his letter, " I haled him off to 
 billiards. He is quite a good player by our rules, 
 as you said. He must have wasted his youth in 
 England." 
 
 " How selfish you are, Claude," said Eveleen with 
 acrimony. 
 
 " It's so rare to find a man I can play with," he 
 excused himself equably. " Besides, Puss was all 
 right. She and Ford were doing music, weren't you, 
 Ford^ Making noise enough, anyhow." 
 
 "Hope we didn't shake the table, sir," said the 
 
LENNOXES 235 
 
 young secretary, who had come in to fetch the 
 finished notes. The doctor's basement billiard-room, 
 it should be said, was just beneath the drawing- 
 room piano. 
 
 Eveleen gazed at Mr. Ford as if she could not see 
 him. He did not exist, naturally, beside the Mar- 
 quis de Fervolles, and he ought to know it. It was 
 so like Claude to choose a musical secretary, regard- 
 less of her convenience. She began to fear she must 
 start planning all over again, in Violet's interest, 
 with these intensely stupid men about her. 
 
 Presently, as Joliffe still delayed, and Claude, her 
 natural prey, still pretended to be occupied, she 
 produced a plan. The plan showed signs of what 
 was, for Eveleen, laboured thought, and her husband 
 received it respectfully. She had at least thought 
 some way in advance, as far ahead as Violet's 
 birthday. Violet's nineteenth birthday fell in early 
 December. Eveleen proposed to give a party for it 
 on her return to town ; a young party, she explained, 
 smallish, not more than twenty couples, — nice, of 
 course. 
 
 "Twenty*?" said Claude with solemnity. "And 
 nice, — and young? I doubt if you will find so many 
 in the world. Violet," he added, " has not many 
 friends." 
 
 " I am sure I don't know why," said Eveleen. 
 " She's been bridesmaid often enough." After nam- 
 
236 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 ing in a few more or less worthy young people who 
 occurred to her, she said: 
 
 " The Gibbs girls could come up, — and the Brad- 
 ing boy." 
 
 " I shouldn't count on him," said Claude. " For- 
 rest has decided to operate again, she says in this. 
 That with him is a last resort." 
 
 " How tiresome," said his wife, and brooded. 
 "There's that young Shovell, — it's a good name 
 enough. I suppose if we have the girls there's no 
 avoiding him." 
 
 " If you consult Violet's own preferences, — none 
 at all." 
 
 " Oh," said Eveleen. A masterly pause ensued. 
 " Can we avoid the mother *? " 
 
 " Not if you want Arthur Gibbs," he returned. 
 " Otherwise, for a young party, easily." 
 
 " I supposed you would want Arthur Gibbs. Be- 
 sides, he christened her, didn't he*? " 
 
 " I believe so," said Claude. " You were pres- 
 ent." She applied to him constantly for facts as she 
 did to the clock, or any other domestic machine for 
 saving labour ; and occasionally the trick vexed him. 
 " You will be asking me how old she is next," he 
 said, rising at last, and moving, in a slightly worried 
 manner, to the hearth. Eveleen's calm persistence 
 had evidently overtlirown the other engagements, — 
 which was a passing satisfaction. 
 
I 
 
 LENNOXES 237 
 
 "I shall not, — her age is the point. I told de 
 Fervolles she was coming out next year. He will 
 give her something good, probably." 
 
 There was a pause. " I say, — is he to be of a 
 young party*? " 
 
 " Naturally. I am doing it for him. He was 
 sounding me about pearls the other day, — some he 
 had seen in Paris." 
 
 " I am giving her pearls," said the doctor swiftly. 
 " He can leave his filth in France." 
 
 " Claude I " She passed over the unguarded 
 temper of his tone. "Are you really *? Where are 
 they*?" 
 
 " Lenz has been collecting for me for a year," he 
 said, relapsing into his ordinary manner. " They'll 
 be ready for the debut all right. I will show you 
 somet'me if you like." 
 
 "You never gave me pearls," said Eveleen, as 
 though considering. 
 
 He looked at her silently. He had given her 
 various gems, all distinctive as they were beautiful, 
 and he always knew what she was wearing. The 
 night before, not for the first time, she had worn 
 stones his memory could not trace, though they 
 marked a taste as fastidious as his own. Oddly 
 enough, none of his many rivals had ever stirred him 
 as this Parisian did; and her attitude on the subject, 
 whether it was to be laid to natural cunning or self- 
 
238 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 deception, drove him to his wits' end to deal with 
 adequately. He could not keep at her level. Do 
 what he would, his thoughts outran her, and came 
 back only to despise. She must know what she was 
 about, with such a man. In her own affairs, the 
 matters of instinct, Eveleen was not stupid, — he 
 could wish she had been more so. The man was not 
 a fool either. De FervoUes was his own sort, with 
 a difference, which may have accounted for his 
 instantaneous aversion. He had all the stage 
 trickery at command, and stepped through his part 
 very competently, as though accustomed. 
 
 Claude intended personally to play his own part, 
 in the somewhat threadbare situation ofFered him, 
 as badly as possible, in order to put the ruffling hero 
 out; and he had silently sworn not to let Violet 
 play a part at all. He was far too observant to 
 deceive himself with any sentiment about girls' 
 innocence. The girl was his girl, and the chances 
 were she had seen more than the half, even of what 
 he saw himself, in the short periods that she had 
 spent, of late, at home. But he would not have her 
 spirit offended by any direct contact with the tinsel 
 and truck of the vaudeville atmosphere, to which 
 his wife seemed to take so kindly. If need were, 
 Violet must know the facts, but always interpreted 
 by him. She should see life through his eyes, since 
 for her sake he had kept his vision clear. Such was 
 
LENNOXES 239 
 
 the vow he was repeating, while he watched his wife 
 with cool dark eyes unmoved. 
 
 And Eveleen, silent as he was, was conscious it 
 was war. She rolled out her lip under his scrutiny, 
 allowing her amusement at his childishness to be 
 visible, fastened her eyes just below his chin while 
 she buttoned her glove, and then turned her back 
 and walked to the window to watch for the car. 
 
 Her expression, if it had been seen from the street, 
 would have been rather dangerous. Claude should 
 know better, by this time, than to dare her like this. 
 She had spent considerable pains in the matter of 
 de Fervolles, who was, her husband could not deny, 
 an excellent parti. It was very doubtful if Violet 
 deserved as good, considering all things. Eveleen 
 did not care for him particularly, — till Claude defied 
 her. Now, of course, if the car came back with 
 him alone, as her husband seemed to expect, — well, 
 a natural opportunity, with full leisure for retalia- 
 tion requiring no effort at all on her part, lay before 
 her. It was far easier than answering Claude in 
 conversation : it was also by far more effective. Her 
 husband could not accompany her to Dering, — or 
 would not: Eveleen was vague as to how far his 
 professional excuses carried weight, for he had 
 mounted the ladder so fast as to confuse her slightly: 
 and anyhow, it was very horrid of him not to give 
 her the pearls when she reminded him. 
 
240 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 The world had but to look at Eveleen and her 
 daughter together to admit the justice of the last 
 accusation, however they might cavil at the rest. 
 
 Violet was adamant to the Marquis' embassy, and 
 would not even see him. Little Sally Pepper, 
 broadly gaping, brought up his card. Violet sent 
 it down again with " desoUe^ — regrets^ — impos- 
 sible^''' traced across a corner in her delicate hand. 
 
 " Say Miss Ashwin is busy to the eyes if he asks 
 you, Sally," said Violet, and sank back on the sofa 
 where she had been resting when the message came. 
 Her lips were set rather comically, and she was 
 pale. 
 
 " That's Mother," she explained to Alice. " I 
 wish she wouldn't goad the poor wretch to follow 
 me about. It's too degrading for him." When 
 Violet was rather exhausted and nervous, the 
 strongest terms of her vocabulary came out. 
 
 Alice, concealed behind the window-curtain, 
 looked down to observe the fate of the embassy. 
 " He's sending the man I " she exclaimed with con- 
 tempt. 
 
 " How faint-hearted," said Violet, with her eyes 
 shut. " He might attempt the assault. They are 
 so hideously alarmed of English girls where he comes 
 from. Did you know that? People like Mother 
 never realise how acute the feeling is. . . . 
 
LENNOXES 241 
 
 Yes," as a knock sounded at the door. " Come in, 
 Joliffe." 
 
 As Joliffe approached, she held out one hand to 
 him, and laid the fingers of the other to her lips. 
 The gesture admitted the retainer to her conspiracy. 
 Joliffe only failed to fulfil the dramatic requirements 
 by not stooping to the hand. He did not refuse to 
 take it, however, for Violet's household adored her, 
 to a man. 
 
 " I would never have come of myself, Miss," he 
 apologised. " I knew it was no good. But the 
 Marquis was put out about it to that extent " 
 
 " He's afraid of displeasing Mother," said Violet. 
 " And equally afraid of appearing to elope with me 
 in the eye of all Battersea. They do so hate to be 
 ridiculous. Now, let me think." She put a fine 
 hand across her face. " He will tell her I am ob- 
 durate probably, and originale, — French for rude. 
 Three words on his own card were certainly that. 
 You, Joliffe, will tell her nothing. You have not 
 seen Miss Ashwin, do you hear*? We have a large 
 order in, suddenly *? " 
 
 " Mourning," said Miss Eccles, behind. 
 
 "Court mourning," said Violet. "A poor 
 prince." 
 
 " As you will. Miss," said Joliffe sadly. Think- 
 ing of his mistress, he made a dutiful effort. " It's 
 very nice down at Bering, in the park, just now," 
 
242 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 he observed. " Lord Dering asked for you special, 
 I heard." 
 
 " How did you hear? " The girl threw a glint at 
 him. " Bering's a sweet place, I adore it. Are my 
 things packed, Joliffe*? " 
 
 " Yes, Miss : waiting at the house." 
 
 " What a waste of labour." She sighed bitterly. 
 " The unhappy Fanny, I suppose. See it's not put 
 on, will you^ We are not leaving town at present. 
 We are detained." 
 
 Joliffe looked at Alice, who seemed to him a sen- 
 sible girl. Alice telegraphed that she had tried, and 
 failed. 
 
 "Is it a bad day for the doctor? " asked Violet, 
 having reflected for a space. 
 
 " Full up, Miss. He's doing Mr. Forrest's work 
 at the hospital this week as well." 
 
 " The atrocious poacher, — I know he is. Is he at 
 home to-night? " 
 
 The chauffeur shook his head. " Dinner and meet- 
 ing at the Club. Both the cars in use, since Mrs. 
 Ashwin goes down so late. I've been wondering, 
 Miss Violet, how you will get back." 
 
 " I was also wondering," said Violet. " But I 
 pvcijtd for inspiration, and it came. A passing omni- 
 bus, — at my own time. Liberty to miss one, if I 
 choose, and take the next. Infinitely preferable, I 
 assure you." 
 
LENNOXES 243 
 
 Joliffe shook his head at her, reproving. " You'll 
 be back to dinner, Miss? " 
 
 '^ No, — tell Mason. I shall stay overtime with 
 Miss Eccles, and get done." She smiled sweetly at 
 Joliffe, who therewith gave her up. She was a 
 singularly obstinate young lady: and to-day she was 
 singularly pale. 
 
 " I could get that window open, if you liked," he 
 said, gazing thoughtfully upward at the skylight, 
 through which the concentrated glare of an August 
 noon was pouring down. " It might make a bit of 
 noise." 
 
 " Good heavens, what does the noise matter *? " 
 she cried. " Air is what I want." Both her hands 
 were across her eyes in an instant, at this offer of 
 real service. 
 
 The chauffeur tugged the window open ; and then, 
 looking round the room once with a cautious eye, 
 guardedly uncritical, since Miss Violet had chosen 
 it, departed down the stairs. 
 
 " Elle refuse? " said the Marquis, with a despair- 
 ing gesture. 
 
 " Refuses, sir," said Joliffe. " Nothing further, 
 sir*? " They drove off. 
 
 "How is the interior, where Mademoiselle in- 
 habits*? " said de FervoUes curiously. 
 
 " Very nice, sir," said Joliffe. " Nice little place." 
 
 "She works there*?" said the Marquis; for Eve- 
 
244 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 leen had left him in complete darkness as to Violet's 
 daily habits. 
 
 " Presumably, sir," said Joliffe, very grave. He 
 seemed to be interested in the trafBc on the bridge. 
 
 " Ladies — young ladies — do this with you^ " 
 
 " Very frequently, sir. A friend of Miss Ashwin's, 
 Lady Joan Bering, does bookbinding in the season 
 in St. Martin's Lane. I may say, sir, it is freely 
 done." 
 
 " Freely," murmured the Marquis. " She is alone 
 there, — no company *? Aha, this is better, — women, 
 of course. And at nights she returns to her parents, 
 — to the nest. Strange, an only child." He 
 mused. " She has not broken with her mother? 
 Quarrelled'? " 
 
 " Certainly not, sir," said Joliffe, indignant at the 
 implied scandal in his family. " Mrs. Ashwin 
 thought Miss Violet might change her mind, conse- 
 quent upon a special message from his lordship. 
 That is all." 
 
 " Aha ! " said the Marquis. " His lordship, — 
 what age*? '* 
 
 " Eighty-one, sir," said Joliffe impassively, and 
 the conversation closed. The Marquis had criticised 
 the car on the way down; and in any case, Joliffe 
 had no taste for Frenchmen. 
 
IX 
 
 A STUDIO INCIDENT 
 
 The embassy had a result, however, somewhat later 
 in the day; for Joliffe, righteously or not, managed 
 to get a few words through to headquarters. Know- 
 ing his master, he judged that would be sufficient. 
 Then he went down to Bering with his mind at rest. 
 
 At half-past seven, his first leisure, having dressed 
 for dinner to be on the safe side, Claude shot down 
 to Battersea in the sm.aller car, and, leaving the 
 hired driver in charge, mounted the stairs two steps 
 at once. He had been there once before, so he hesi- 
 tated neither as to the house, nor floor, nor door. 
 Before he knocked at the door, he heard lively chat- 
 tering and laughter within, sufficient to reassure his 
 accumulated anxiety; and entering, he discovered an 
 excited group of young people. 
 
 There was a cry of protest at his own appearance, 
 and he stopped halfway across the room, lifting the 
 flimsy curtain with one hand. It was evidently, by 
 his attitude, a highly dramatic moment in some- 
 bodj^^s career. 
 
 " Oh, this is too much ! " cried Violet in indigna- 
 
246 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 tion. " Caitiffs — knaves — they have betrayed me. 
 Silence now, Charles, — Alice, — no word, if you 
 love me." 
 
 They did love her, apparently, for, though Alice 
 had been scolding and Charles talking nonsense 
 simultaneously, silence instantly succeeded. 
 
 Dr. Ash win took in the scene. His daughter, com- 
 pletely colourless, but much the most collected mem- 
 ber of the party, lay upon the faded little couch 
 near the window, which was opened widely, to 
 admit all the air possible on an almost breathless 
 evening. Miss Eccles, in undress, — for her blouse 
 was tossed on the floor, — dishevelled and wonderful 
 to behold, was kneeling by her, one arm still passed 
 about her anxiously. Charles Shovell, — of all im- 
 pertinent interlopers, — clothed in flannels, was erect 
 beyond them, with one knee in a chair, and his 
 hands on the back of it, apparently watching Violet 
 intently. Not that there was anything remarkable 
 in that: it was obviously the considerate thing to 
 do, since no gentleman would wish to look twice at 
 Miss Eccles' bare arms. He was flushed and smil- 
 ing, but the smile had a slightly dazed quality, re- 
 markable in a hero, as though in the recent dramatic 
 incident, the worst shock had been his. 
 
 And that indeed was the fact. He had come up 
 to town for a cricket match; and having spent the 
 day merrily with friends, was returning at ease. 
 
LENNOXES 247 
 
 Being Charles, he missed the train he had wanted at 
 Victoria, and saw, during the interval while he 
 kicked his heels about the station, a train for Bat- 
 tersea departing. He thought there could be but one 
 chance in ten that Violet had not already returned 
 home, but that one chance was worth taki-^g. He 
 would call, and if he could summon courage for 
 it, take her out to dinner. He wished he was dressed, 
 but one cannot hope in life for everything. (He 
 had belonged at Cambridge to a very distinguished 
 set, who wore their worst clothes in good company 
 on principle.) He thought of calling on Brading 
 and borrowing some clothes, but as his father was 
 said to be dying, the proceeding might not be timely. 
 He made lively and complicated intrigues for a 
 night's amusement during the short journey, his 
 spirits rising all the time. He was behaving exactly 
 like a man about town, and he would mention the 
 business with excessive carelessness to the world at 
 Glasswell the next morning. 
 
 As things turned out, he mentioned nothing what- 
 ever to anybody; all such opportunity was denied 
 him. It was all puzzling and annoying in the ex- 
 treme, and a simple proceeding on Violet's part, 
 feminine certainly, but nevertheless ill-considered, 
 turned all his plans topsy-turv)^ and left him help- 
 less and adrift. 
 
 Of course, everyone knows girls faint. If one has 
 
248 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 the fortune never to have seen it occur in life, all the 
 best authors have long since given them away. It is 
 not unheard-of for fellows to faint, if you come to 
 that, at school, during a particularly long chapel, 
 after a particularly heavy meal. But that is differ- 
 ent. Fellows want kicking for being such a nuisance, 
 and startling their neighbours, — and one cannot 
 exactly regard women's fainting like that. They 
 are hardly in the same category. Yet 
 
 It is to be feared Charles regarded Violet's faint- 
 ing, at this particular juncture, as a nuisance. We 
 make his apologies. There is really much to be 
 presented in his excuse, for he had been frightened, 
 and that invariably produces a reaction. He was 
 coming easily up the stairs, in the cheerful certainty, 
 on the evidence of a small girl he had encountered 
 below, that Miss Ashwin was at home. Arriving at 
 the upper landing, he was just in time to hear a 
 woman's cry of fright, — a tone that made him start 
 in sympathy, — a crash of falling scissors and pins, — 
 that most unequalled noise, — and then immediately 
 afterwards, a sharp call for help. Neither of the 
 voices were Violet's, which made the hero feel more 
 awkward. He moved his legs after a moment and 
 went forward, picturing every possible catastrophe, 
 from suicide to spiders. 
 
 When he got inside the room, and past the cur- 
 tain, he found confusion : pins, utensils, drapery, all 
 
LENNOXES 249 
 
 tossed about. A tall girl he presumed to be Miss 
 Eccles, in barbarian garb of coloured silk, was ap- 
 parently carrying Violet, who was apparently dead. 
 This is quite sufficiently disturbing, as a spectacle, 
 to the ideas; and a man may be allowed to stare a 
 minute, without being made the object of violent 
 recrimination on the living lady's part. As Charles 
 contended later to Violet, he did everything he was 
 told to do; and if he did bring cold cocoa in a jug 
 instead of water, Miss Eccles need not have been so 
 hasty in her language about it, because the jugs 
 were both white, and absolutely identical in shape. 
 He picked up a large quantity of pins for her while 
 she was tending Violet, and he picked them very 
 badly, for his hands were shaking; and when she 
 shook off her magnificent robe, and threw it at him, 
 he pricked his fingers with more pins stuck in the 
 fabric, trying to fold it up. Finally, to his relief, 
 Miss Eccles snatched it again, and make a bolster of 
 it in two minutes for Violet's head. 
 
 " Won't it be creased*? " said Charles thought- 
 fully. 
 
 " It's hers, at least her mother's," snapped Miss 
 Eccles, " and anyhow, it will serve her right." 
 
 Violet's first faint words were to direct Alice not 
 to snub poor Charles; and he thought it was high 
 time indeed that somebody came to his rescue. Find- 
 ing her living eyes on him, just as they had always 
 
250 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 been, nonsense sprang instantly to his tongue in 
 self-defence. But it was random nonsense, — night- 
 marish, rather. What he said was 
 
 " Then it is not for a hundred years." 
 
 " Spindles? " said Violet, and her white lips 
 quivered into a smile. " Charles, how nice you are," 
 she murmured. 
 
 Charles was relieved to hear he was nice; he did 
 not feel so. He felt, somehow, that at least a 
 hundred years had elapsed since he saw her last. 
 
 " You haven't even been introduced," said Violet. 
 " Miss Eccles — Mr. Shovell. A pin is running into 
 me, darling, if you would be so good. Ask him 
 immediately if the Gentlemen won, and if so, how 
 much." 
 
 " I shan't do anything of the sort," snapped Alice. 
 
 " The Players won," said Charles huskily. 
 
 " Miss Eccles will be delighted," said Violet. 
 " Please tell her all about it while I wash my face." 
 
 Thus matters were put upon a rather happier 
 footing, and pretty soon all three were talking busily. 
 It was exquisite relief, after all, that Violet, having 
 been dead, could come to life so quickly, and speak 
 in such a life-like manner. Also, it was character- 
 istic of her cunning, according to Miss Eccles, that 
 she should drop behind Miss Eccles' back, and so 
 out of her reach, during the arrangement of a 
 shoulder-seam. 
 
LENNOXES 251 
 
 " The detestable thing is crooked now," murmured 
 Violet. " We had better commence with that, Alice, 
 to-morrow." 
 
 " I regard it as my business to dictate," scolded 
 Miss Eccles, " what we commence with, and other- 
 wise. And that's not one of your words, anyhow." 
 
 " She is such a stickler," said Violet. " She uses 
 two dialects at least, Charles, but she never allows 
 me on her ground. Everybody trespasses occasion- 
 ally, tell her that." 
 
 " They seem really to be friends," thought 
 Charles, still dazed; and he wished with strong re- 
 sentment that Miss Eccles would put on her blouse. 
 But she seemed to have forgotten all about it, and 
 if Violet did not, he could not remind her. Of course 
 she was agitated, and of course it was very hot in 
 the room; and of course Mr. Shovell was dressed 
 in faded flannel and not in cloth; but that was no 
 excuse for her regarding him, as she evidently did, 
 as a nonentity. Coming up to town he had been 
 rather proud of that ancient warrior, his College 
 blazer. Men had looked at him with respect, — but 
 girls are so absurd. It was true, this girl's bare white 
 wrists and arms were most beautiful and distracting: 
 yet in strength sufficient, as he had seen, to carry 
 Violet half across the room. 
 
 He began to wonder, while he chattered nonsense 
 wildly and persistently, if he had not better escape, 
 
252 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 get out of the toils, and leave them together, as 
 women on these occasions had better always be left. 
 He also thought of going for a doctor, a thing which 
 is often done, and which seemed to have occurred 
 to neither. 
 
 Presently he summoned courage and proposed this 
 step. 
 
 "Good gracious," said Violet, "what an idea! 
 Can't you see I am progressing most favourably, and 
 no earthly doctor would " 
 
 About that point there were quick steps without, 
 she stopped, the door opened, and the earthly doctor 
 appeared as already described, in a white shirt front, 
 with a thick bar on his brow. 
 
 " You are at dinner at the Athenaum," Violet 
 addressed the apparition bitterly. " You can't pos- 
 sibly be here. I had it on the best authority." 
 
 " Whose ^" said Claude. 
 
 " Somebody who never makes slips," said Violet, 
 " because he would be dismissed instantly if he did." 
 
 " He seems to be fairly accurate," said Claude. 
 He dropped the drapery he was holding, and ad- 
 vanced to the couch. Putting his hand across her 
 head to the further side, he swept back the drooping 
 curtain of her hair, and touched the bruise she had 
 been concealing. 
 
 " It does not hurt the least, darling," said Violet, 
 becoming soft and appealing. " Let it pass. You 
 
LENNOXES 253 
 
 know Miss Eccles, don't you^ He's only a medical 
 man, Alice, dear." For Miss Eccles, with a lovely 
 colour in her face, had seized her black silk bodice, 
 and was donning it hastily. Charles, seeing the pro- 
 ceeding, laid it all to the glamour of the other man's 
 immaculate tailoring, and felt bitter and small. 
 
 " Fasten it for her," said Violet, — to her father 
 apparently. " It fastens behind, — idiotic custom, 
 isn't it? I ought to tell you, perhaps, I happened 
 to be trying something on Miss Eccles lately, when 
 she hit me with her elbow, rather hard. She is 
 rather jerky and short-tempered to-day, — the heat. 
 She has apologised, and I pass it over. Since then, 
 I have been resting, talking to Mr. Shovel 1, who 
 called. The canons of society demand that you 
 should take his hand. Father, and let go at once of 
 mine." 
 
 Dr. Ashwin did neither thing. While he held her 
 hand in a certain fashion, far from what the canons 
 require, he seemed to be observing the room. Violet 
 had very little hope she had deceived him, but she 
 kept a gallant front. 
 
 " Hot, isn't it? " she said in the languid society 
 manner. " I hope you have not been stupidly over- 
 doing it, Father. You look pale." 
 
 " What have you eaten to-day? " he asked. " I 
 mean, biscuits and cocoa exclusively, or something 
 more substantial? " 
 
254 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " You cannot possibly see inside that jug," said 
 Violet, annoyed, " so don't pretend to. Your eyes 
 have the same natural limitations as Mr. Weller's. 
 Besides, Charles, who is close to it, will tell you it is 
 soup. We did not go out to lunch to-day, owing to 
 pressure. I sent a message to Mother about that, — 
 perhaps it did not come your way. I was about to 
 ask Charles, there, to take me out to dine." 
 
 " Were you"? " said Charles, rather startled. Then 
 he felt foolish for being surprised, — because he 
 had meant, of course, to take her out to dinner, once. 
 
 " Of course. I thought my responsibilities were 
 safe at the Athenseum. As it is, I supposed they 
 have scratched the engagement, suddenly; and what 
 I am to do with the present one, — goodness knows." 
 
 " You'll go home with your Papa," said Miss 
 Eccles, in her full, leisured tone, " like a good girl; 
 and have your dinner in company." 
 
 " That shows your ignorance of our ways, dear," 
 said Violet. " The kitchenmaid is out, — Fanny is 
 at a cinematograph, — Mason likewise. It is more 
 than probable there is nothing eatable in the house : 
 because, owing to his bewildering extravagance, I 
 have prescribed economy on all of them. Really, 
 Father, on thinking it over, it strikes me you could 
 not do better than to have a little cocoa here com- 
 fortably with us." 
 
 " Doesn't she want slapping? " said Alice, with 
 
LENNOXES 255 
 
 the same cordial serenity to Dr. Ashwin. She at 
 least was happy and her easy self again. He nodded 
 to the question, but did not smile ; indeed, he looked 
 most drawn and anxious, far more than the occasion 
 demanded. 
 
 " If you'll stand on your two feet, Pussy," he said, 
 " I'll do the rest for you, dinner and all." 
 
 " Cook it, you mean? Can you? Oh do, darling. 
 Mason would be so annoyed." She was laughing 
 as she rose, but obviously leaning on him. " No, I 
 won't be carried: I refuse point-blank. . . . 
 Listen, Charles." She turned to him with a certain 
 earnestness, her grey eyes very steady, still clinging 
 to her father's arm. He heard her speech, and the 
 sweet little dry familiar voice, in a dream. 
 
 " You are my two best friends, and have assisted 
 me in extremity. Therefore you know one another 
 well. I cannot go out to dinner, owing to this im- 
 pediment," — she squeezed the supporting arm, — 
 " Therefore I depute you to take Alice. I depend on 
 you utterly, Charles. She is young and unused to 
 the ways of London. Give her a nice dinner at a 
 good place, tell her all your silliest stories, and 
 manage her adroitly if she tries to pay." At this 
 point, seeing Mr. Shovell's face, she broke into 
 laughter. *' Charles," she cried, "you are in the 
 cradle! Act better, at least, for Heaven's sake." 
 She dropped her brow an instant against Dr. 
 
256 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 Ashwin's sleeve. " I frightened him," she mur- 
 mured, to explain. 
 
 " Come along," said Claude with decision. " Give 
 Miss Eccles the word to be managed, that is the 
 simplest thing." 
 
 " Between you and me, Dr. Ashwin, I am, and 
 always," said Alice. " But I've got to go home, 
 deary : word of honour I have. Mum will be fussing 
 dreadfully." 
 
 " I charge you, Charles, by all you hold most 
 dear," said Violet solemnly. " She has naturally an 
 excellent appetite, and has starved all day. Her 
 mother is a polite convention, — rather overworked. 
 Cocoa-soup is not really sustaining. Well, Father, 
 I have moved nine steps; I am practising, and you 
 must give me time. A little advice in his ear about 
 restaurants would be more to the purpose than pinch- 
 ing me." 
 
 Having so directed him, she leant to Alice a 
 moment: obviously pleading, speaking low. 
 
 " It's not a thing I ever do," said Alice wavering. 
 
 " I know you don't," pleaded Violet. " But we 
 do, so allow for us. Give in to our rowdy habits, 
 darling, just for once. A dinner once in a way is 
 nothing. Even his clerical relations will not throw 
 it up against you, for that I give you my word. And 
 he's charming, really, if you don't sit on him too 
 heavily. Of course " she whisked the words 
 
LENNOXES 257 
 
 out of Alice's mouth, — " Mr. Shovell is my friend. 
 But our sort of friendship can stand it. There I " 
 
 " Well," said Alice, on a yielding breath. 
 " You've done me this time. I suppose I'll have to. 
 So long as he doesn't pay." 
 
 " Oh, good gracious! " said Violet, letting out a 
 flash. " Here, — where are you? " She turned, 
 seized her father in a managing fashion by the coat, 
 and dived adroitly into an inner pocket. "Ten, 
 fourteen, sixteen, seventeen-and-six," counted Violet, 
 " Will that be enough for two? Which restaurant 
 have you told him'? " She shook the coat imperi- 
 ously. " And where, if it's a smart one, do you keep 
 your gold? " 
 
 " That will suffice," he replied. " It's only sus- 
 taining to outraged nature, not smart the least." 
 
 Violet poured the silver into Charles' hand. " My 
 commission," she sweetly observed. " Keep some- 
 thing out of it for yourself. Don't stay very late, 
 because of her mother, — and take her home." Then 
 she looked at his eyes. " Charles, you're not cross, 
 are you?" she said, low and swiftly. She thought 
 in a practised flash of every probable scruple such 
 a boy could have. " Is it the blazer? Alice will 
 not mind — she's not dressed." 
 
 "It's not the blazer," he answered, gruffly rather, 
 pocketed the money without counting it, and let 
 her go without looking at her again. 
 
258 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 He felt singularly guilty and miserable as he stood 
 there, hearing her light footsteps retreat down the 
 stairs; and it made things little better when Miss 
 Eccles turned to him triumphantly. 
 
 " There's not her equal in London," she said, 
 with unnecessary emphasis. " You are in luck, Mr. 
 Shovell, if I may be allowed to say so without 
 offence." 
 
 This, by Miss Eccles' standards, was no more than 
 a courteous formula, when the friend of another 
 was proffering attentions, but Charles received it ill, 
 and had no answer. The world was turning over 
 for poor Charles. He only knew, for the first time 
 Alice turned her lovely long eyes upon him: and 
 for the first and last time, as it seemed, on earth, — 
 since heaven was near, — he had the sweet shock of 
 her smile. 
 
GROWING PAINS 
 
 Charles seldom, if ever, spent a more imhappy 
 evening. So unversed he was in life, though he had 
 sung and jested of love perpetually throughout his 
 Cambridge day, that he hardly knew what was 
 happening to him. He only knew he was apparently 
 booked in advance by a devil the like of which he 
 had never met or guessed, to behave idiotically. 
 We shall have lost more time than we think, in the 
 conscientious compilation of this history, if we have 
 not suggested successfully that Charles was fond of 
 himself. The first addition to this knowledge he 
 had personally and painfully to make was, that he 
 had never really been fond of anybody else. 
 
 This was due to nature partly, and partly to ill- 
 fortune. He had begun life by fearing and hating 
 his father, — a shadow almost too far back to recol- 
 lect, but sufficient to leave a taint of suspiciousness 
 behind it. For quite a considerable period he thought 
 he loved his mother, and only awoke to the fact 
 that he did not, when he began his quest for the 
 romantic life at the age of seventeen. His mother, 
 
26o A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 in sheer anxiety lest he should follow in his father's 
 steps, dragooned him rather; and, as she spoiled 
 him in her fashion simultaneously as mothers will, 
 he never saw her sacrifices. He was not really far 
 removed from Alice in situation, the difference being 
 that his weakness was congenital, and all he knew 
 of virtue and strength of mind he owed to the ma- 
 ternal teaching. The contrast between boy and 
 girl had been completed by the inexorable moulder, 
 life. Owing to the singular education of our gentler 
 youth, Charles had never, at the age of twenty-three, 
 had to shift for himself. Tutors, advisers, relatives 
 and friends had shifted for him, and he had sat 
 quietly, chattered other men's philosophy, and criti- 
 cised their proceedings. It needs but to be added 
 that he had excelled at certain sports, and that a ring 
 of cleverer men had admired him for his turn of 
 mind. It may be sufficient commentary on these 
 methods to mention that Alice, three years younger, 
 was ten years ahead of him at least, at this time, 
 upon the paths of life. 
 
 He learnt his lesson that evening at her hands; 
 though she was rather silent, listening to what he 
 had to say with ready, kindness, and looking about 
 her, with innocent wonder, at unaccustomed things. 
 It was her beauty taught him, not her eloquence. 
 It struck Charles almost with horror, that she would 
 
LENNOXES 261 
 
 not and could not care for him, he was so utterly 
 beneath her. It needs but to mention this to show 
 how she had carried on sight the intrenchments of 
 his vanity and self-love. They were not very pro- 
 found intrenchments really, it was only that the 
 forces of the man's soul within were ungrown to 
 proffer better defence. The girl would have pitied 
 instantly, had she suspected half his misery; for 
 Alice knew where the frontier between comedy and 
 tragedy lay, — that had been one of her hardest 
 lessons; and she would not have chaffed or dallied 
 in a calamity such as this. 
 
 But, as it happened, she noticed nothing that 
 night, or very little. It was absolutely the first 
 chance of her life of seeing a little of the world of 
 pleasure, and she was as delighted as a child, though 
 as acute as a woman in her commentary. Claude 
 Ashwin had directed them to one of the go-between 
 eating-places north of the Strand, foreign in name, 
 but borrowing in nature some excellent hints from 
 the old London traditions. It was convenient to 
 the theatres, and had been discovered temporarily 
 by a certain immutably upper set, who piqued them- 
 selves on following the best, and being followed 
 themselves by fashion as fashion would. Claude 
 himself had been taken there by Lucas Warden, 
 and it had amused him adequately, without preju- 
 
262 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 dice to feeding him in perfection ; for it was not yet 
 sufficiently " in the swim " for the service or the 
 cookery to grow careless. 
 
 Lucas Warden was dining there to-night, and 
 Alice noticed him presently. He had already noticed 
 Alice, but like the prudent old hand he was, had 
 made no sign. 
 
 " Why," she said to Charles, innocently pleased to 
 find a face she knew, " there is old Mr. Warden, 
 Miss Ashwin's friend. She brought him to our place 
 once to see Miss Lennox. I wonder if I ought to 
 recognise him^ " 
 
 " No," said Charles. 
 
 " Don't you think so'? Do tell me why." 
 
 " Because you're dining with me, and he's alone," 
 said Charles haughtily, as though popular canons 
 of good taste could be left to explain the rest. He 
 was trying this manner on Alice recklessly to see if 
 it was of any use. 
 
 " Oh," said Alice, slightly mischievous. " But 
 Miss Ashwin is here in the spirit, isn't she? We 
 can pretend she is, anyhow. That makes four." 
 
 " Not at all," said Charles. " You must have mis- 
 taken her, really. Besides," he added, spurring 
 himself furiously, " no one could tackle such a feed 
 as this in the spirit, possibly. It can't be done." 
 
 " I'm eating most of it," Miss Eccles observed. 
 " For all you've done, you could keep a spirit com- 
 
LENNOXES 263 
 
 pany." She added, pleased with her idea, — " Per- 
 haps you are." 
 
 " What do you mean'? " said Charles. 
 
 " Though lost to sight," said Alice, " to memory 
 dear." She was again using one of the complimen- 
 tary formulas of " friendship." Charles was, or at 
 least must be supposed to be, thinking of Violet. 
 Boy as he was, he coloured with profound irritation. 
 
 " Miss Eccles " he began. 
 
 " Well^ " said Alice in the pause. " Don't you 
 like teasing? Never mind. Some do and some don't 
 according to my experience. Let's talk of some- 
 thing else." 
 
 " I wish I could," said the unfortunate Charles. 
 He meant, of course, he wished he could talk of the 
 thing that was battering at his soul's gates to be 
 spoken. Alice laughed sweetly across the table, prov- 
 ing that she took his meaning the other way; that 
 she thought it quite natural her charming little friend 
 should hold possession of his thoughts and conversa- 
 tion, — to the exclusion even of politeness. 
 
 So they proceeded, misunderstanding one another, 
 until a certain point when, spurred by wine, Charles 
 said something furious, which Alice thought " com- 
 mon," and she stared at him a second, doubt grow- 
 ing visible in her eyes. Even then, she seized instant 
 hold, with her sad experience, of the wine's agency 
 to explain it; she did not blame him seriously, and, 
 
264 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 at the worst, only suspected he was " light." The 
 "light" man she had met and known; all her 
 mother's prudish protection had not been able to 
 keep him off her. No girl so indiscreetly beautiful 
 as Alice Eccles could move daily about London, and 
 not be accosted at times. She had fought her own 
 battles, and her mother had never known. Except 
 in that somewhat vague formula that " men do beat 
 all," she had never once mentioned her encounters, 
 far less boasted of them, even to Violet. Only, 
 Charles saw what she knew, saw that it exceeded 
 even his own earth-shaking discoveries that night, 
 and he raged. She suspected him of infidelity, — of 
 vulgarity, which is worse. She was ready armed, 
 gallant, guarding the path up which he strove to 
 step, whose entrance he could barely find. This is 
 a form of innocence upon which men do not count, 
 — this steadfast, smiling pessimism of youth. But 
 it is an attitude for which they are responsible, all 
 the same. 
 
 Then Mr. Warden, passing to the door, at a barely 
 visible sign from Alice's head, came across to them; 
 and therewith Charles' discomfiture was complete. 
 She was charming, though serious, with the elderly 
 man of the world, dealing at once with their common 
 subject, Violet. Withal she was courteous as the 
 highest lady could have been. She mentioned 
 Charles by name, and the match to explain his 
 
LENNOXES 265 
 
 clothes. (It did not, but Alice in her ignorance of 
 matches evidently thought it did.) To explain his 
 presence with her, she said they were both " on the 
 loose," and that Dr. Ashwin had sent them there. 
 Mr. Warden's kindly gaze found Charles a school- 
 boy, and passed him over. They were sitting, by 
 Charles' choice, in a retired corner; but the mere 
 fact that Mr. Warden stood there, still and courtly, 
 in the unmistakeable attitude of deference to woman, 
 the knuckles of one fine hand resting upon their 
 table-edge, made five or six other men look round, — 
 and look again at every covert chance. 
 
 " I don't like this," said Alice after a time, quite 
 easily. " There's a smarter lot of people coming 
 now, and I'm not dressed up to that gang. Nor is 
 Mr. Shovell, are you*? Besides, I ought to be off, 
 really and truly. Shall we be getting out*? " 
 
 She looked at her escort, but Lucas Warden an- 
 swered her. 
 
 " Does that dismiss me? " he said. " I thought, 
 as an ancient and useful appurtenance, I was being 
 encouraged. I see I was wrong, and you were merely 
 kind. Can I be kind, then, in return*? Can I drive 
 you to any station, for instance'? " 
 
 " Dear, no," said Alice. " I'm all right. I sleep 
 inside the town, you know; a tram goes straight 
 from the corner. It's Mr. Shovell who has trains to 
 catch." 
 
266 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " The coup de grdce^'' said Lucas, enviably calm. 
 " Mr. Shovell, may I drive you? We can but con- 
 sole one another." 
 
 Alice laughed, — he heard her laugh, — delighted 
 at the badinage. That was the way, of course, 
 Charles should have spoken, if only he could struggle 
 from the toils so unfairly binding him, hand and foot 
 and tongue. Lucas Warden did not know her, had 
 manifestly even forgotten her name, for he avoided 
 it; but he played his man's part with ease in enter- 
 taining and gratifying a lovely girl, no matter what 
 the occasion. 
 
 Nor did he really give much thought to it, — lucky 
 dog! A passing remark on her charm and friendli- 
 ness, after leaving her, seemed enough to dismiss 
 her quite comfortably from his mind. He was an 
 affable old party, this Warden, and was evidently 
 accustomed to being accepted on sight by younger 
 men as philosopher and friend. He ferreted out 
 Charles' connection with the Ashwins very soon, 
 remembered Margery at once, and insisted, while 
 composing a message for her, on walking at Charles' 
 side to the corner. By some means or other this 
 plan was extended, and he came all the way to the 
 station, discussing things and persons who had be- 
 come as far removed as planets behind driving 
 clouds to Charles. They were there, of course : they 
 glimmered now and then, but obscured and quite 
 
LENNOXES 267 
 
 useless to him. In the crisis he was in, he could 
 think of nobody. His stepfather alone might con- 
 ceivably be of use, but not yet, and not in any 
 fashion he had the wit or spirit to plan out to-night. 
 Mr. Gibbs had often loomed so, a distant rock to 
 the wrecked or panic-stricken, but Charles did not 
 know that. He did not want to go to Glasswell, he 
 shunned the place; and Violet's silver, not nearly 
 exhausted, was sufficient for a night at a hotel. 
 Two it must be, indeed, since the morrow was Sun- 
 day, and so not Alice's working-day. He was at a 
 stage of having lost all scruple as to such a use for 
 Violet's money. All possessions, all positions, all 
 privileges in life had for him but one object, that 
 of keeping his body as near as possible to Alice's. 
 Owing to the untimely intervention of the objection- 
 able Warden, Charles had not been able to get her 
 address. He had been putting that off to the last 
 moment, and it was those dear last moments that 
 Warden had snatched from him, and turned to his 
 own purposes so competently. He could of course 
 reach the address through Violet ; and while Warden 
 talked away at his side, he was trying insanely to 
 invent how best he should do that. 
 
 Meanwhile, perhaps ov/ing to Alice, perhaps to 
 the wine, his tongue was behaving with unusual 
 brilliance and dexterity, while discussing quite in- 
 essential things. Mr. Warden was, as undoubtedly, 
 
268 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 drawing him out. He knew how to draw young 
 fellows out, and this one suited him. Charles was 
 rather of his own kind, fastidious and desultory, a 
 flaneur along the paths of life; and Mr. Warden, 
 himself in an optimistic after-dinner mood, thought 
 he had not used his opportunities badly. His con- 
 nection with the Ashwins was highly in his favour, 
 and he evidently had a taste for literature. In addi- 
 tion, Charles' tongue informed his companion of his 
 set prejudice against the tutorial profession and 
 in that prejudice Mr. Warden sympathised most 
 heartily. For his own part, he had in youth barely 
 escaped it, and only by a lucky throw, lost in the 
 herd of young men who, for want of better prompt- 
 ing, are driven that way. He began to think out 
 other opportunities for such as Charles, and his 
 own profession instantly occurred to him. The boy 
 had wits, obviously, but not such as are readily ex- 
 changeable for gold and silver in the mart. He 
 had taste, imagination, a power of expression which 
 — as exemplified to-night — was unusual at his age. 
 His faults were those that Wardens most naturally 
 condone, his advantages such as they most promptly 
 perceive. In short, Charles made a conquest, and 
 of a very useful man. 
 
 Charles' luck that night had not really deserted 
 him, had he known. But it was like the irony of 
 fate that he should make his first step towards ma- 
 
LENNOXES 269 
 
 terial prosperity the same night that he lost all value 
 and regard for it. It is true, he had never had much. 
 He was frantic, feverish, and really for the moment 
 he hated Warden. They had to go into the station 
 together; but there, fortunately, the publisher, cheery 
 to the last, bade him an easy good night. Charles 
 threw a jest after him, and made him retort and 
 laugh. Then he strolled to the board that posted 
 trains, saw that one to Glasswell was still open to 
 him, and looked swiftly and furtively over all the 
 strollers on the platform, to be sure no acquaintance 
 was among them. He was in luck once more, for 
 there was none. 
 
 So, with a deep breath, having made certain that 
 Mr. Warden had finally vanished from view, Mr. 
 Shovell swung about, and made for the doors of the 
 nearest hotel. On ordinary occasions he might have 
 been shy, but he had already grown through that. 
 If he was prompted by any idea at all in the pro- 
 ceeding, it was by the purely mechanical one of not 
 losing any possible trail, that by any chance he 
 might be holding. He was on one, at least, of the 
 main routes to Battersea, and had perhaps two 
 chances out of ten of intercepting his beloved on the 
 Monday morning, as she made her way to her work. 
 For those two chances anything might be risked; 
 so he flung diffidence to the winds, and took a room 
 at the hotel. He barely thought of his mother, 
 
270 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 beyond purposing vaguely to send her a message 
 the next day, to explain that Blading or some friend 
 had detained him. That sort of thing was easily 
 done. She would not — or Charles imagined she 
 would not — be anxious. Charles, having known 
 his father little, had never come near to realising 
 the exact shade of her anxiety about him, even if 
 he consciously interpreted her sharpness as anxiety 
 at all. He could not stop to think of whom he 
 victimised, or to split hairs of honour and delicacy, 
 at such a moment. Brading, he thought, might be 
 a good card to play, since owing to his situation 
 and his father's danger, he was out of court, so to 
 speak, and no longer in evidence at Glasswell. Nor 
 could he afford much feeling for poor Robert, thus 
 tragically separated from his love, — those sympa- 
 thetic stirrings might come later, not now. At the 
 point where he stood, buffeted b)^ all the winds of 
 passion, he was incapable of " nice feelings " at all. 
 So he prepared quite calmly to couple Brading's 
 name, if no better name occurred, to his projected lie. 
 It was not till he was actually in bed that he 
 thought of the gardener Peacock, and the thought 
 came with something of a shock. But it was all 
 right, he told himself. Alice had scorned him, and 
 Charles had every proof of his imperturbability and 
 indifference. He began suddenly to wish that he 
 had gone to Glasswell after all; for if Violet was 
 
LENNOXES 271 
 
 really right in her surmises, — and Violet was given 
 to being right, — that fellow had the Eccles' address. 
 The address still haunted Charles, his fixed idea. 
 Why, if his and Violet's theory of the flower-stealing 
 was correct, he had only to glance at the label of 
 one of Peacock's boxes I Alas I how slow is the un- 
 practised schemer to arrive at these simple things! 
 It need hardly be added that the unpractised 
 schemer, deep in the maddening toils of a first love, 
 forgot the existence of a London directory. 
 
PART III 
 FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 
 
I 
 
THE DISENTANGLER 
 
 " It's a bargain, then," said Miss Ashwin that same 
 evening, handing back a little book. " You relax 
 that absurd programme, which a Prometheus would 
 know better than to attempt, and go to Bering Park 
 like a nice gentleman, in a new coat. I will go down 
 for one week to Glasswell, and spend the time 
 profitably " 
 
 "' I forbid you to be profitable." said Claude. 
 
 " Profitably, in disentangling Margery. Now you 
 needn't pretend to know what I mean by that, 
 Father, because you don't." 
 
 " I wasn't pretending," he said hastily. "I was 
 not thinking of Margery for the moment, that is all." 
 
 " Then you are remiss, and a rude uncle. You 
 know you admired Margery immensely. Now, let 
 me see: will you kindly tell me exactly how Sir 
 Rupert Brading is, professionally speaking"? " 
 
 " Professionally speaking, he can hardly survive 
 another operation, timed for a fortnight hence. 
 What can that have " 
 
 " Margery will need my kind offices all ti jre. 
 
276 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 Pity, in love, is half the battle, isn't it? Don't tell 
 me the quotation, if you know one. I am devoting 
 myself, for once, to facts." 
 
 The " for once " disarmed Dr. Ashwin. He was 
 baulked of a reply. He did not really wish Violet to 
 talk, in one of his capacities; but in the other, he 
 loved her company. While, these two instincts were 
 at war within him, Violet entertained him assidu- 
 ously. He had swept her home from Battersea, dis- 
 carding the hired driver in order to take better care 
 of her, and put her promptly to bed, buckling on his 
 professional armour to divert her taunts about his 
 fussiness. Violet had a beautiful room, draped and 
 fitted according to her personal taste with vivid gem- 
 like colouring, and full of unique objects she had 
 collected, largely her father's gifts. She had no 
 objection to being hostess there, she assured him, 
 rather than in the rooms downstairs, especially as 
 he very seldom paid her visits now. She also had, 
 thanks to an inspiration of Alice's, a wonderful gar- 
 ment of thick white silk embroidered with apple 
 blossom, which happened to be just the thing for a 
 domestic party, such as this. 
 
 But the dinner remained the difficulty. She dared 
 him, with all his wiles, to find a dinner in any corner 
 of the house. She sat mocking with folded hands 
 while Claude rang the bell, and waited hopefully 
 upon the rug. WTien nothing happened, she laughed 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 277 
 
 at him, and advised him, if he was hungry, to go to 
 the Athenaeum, a place where the cooks stayed in. 
 Personally, unless manna fell from heaven very soon, 
 she thought she would go to sleep. She was de- 
 lightfully drowsy, and he had made her deliciously 
 comfortable, and she regretted to tell him he was 
 not turning out so conversible as she had hoped. 
 
 Her father left her, undismayed, and went to the 
 kitchen. There, having walked about a little, taking 
 stock of an unfamiliar quarter of the house, he faced 
 his cook, who had just come in from her outing, 
 and whom his appearance scared so bitterly that she 
 dropped the key. He picked up the key, and asked 
 her with elaborate politeness if there was any food 
 to be had conveniently at such an hour, or if he had 
 better send out to the hotel. Dr. Ashv/in's servants 
 stood in wholesome awe of him and his terrific 
 standard of efficiency, but his exactions did not breed 
 ill-will. As for his daughter, a breath of her need 
 was enough. 
 
 " He came down Himself," gasped Mason the 
 cook to Florence the kitchenmaid, as they rushed 
 about their premises. " Walking all over the place 
 he was, telling me what to get and where to get it, 
 and me with no breath at all to follow. Where he 
 learnt the larder, unless Miss Violet expressly in- 
 formed him, is more than I can say. Talk of keep- 
 ing women in their place, it's men as'll soon want 
 
278 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 interfering with, if the likes of him goes on. Not 
 but what he knows what's good for the dear. He 
 told me she was tired out, and sensible-like he got 
 her into bed. I couldn't have done better than that 
 myself. I told him I'd do my poor best, granted 
 the short time at my disposal, — but he's that quick 
 with his hands himself, and any duke you like to 
 choose is less particular." 
 
 Florence the kitchenmaid, who had perhaps a 
 limited number of dukes to choose from, shook her 
 head. But she toiled with her fingers, and the pair 
 produced trays of dainties for Violet in the shortest 
 possible time. 
 
 " I wish I had believed in your occult talents," 
 mused Violet aloud above the dainties, " and I would 
 have asked poor Alice here. But I never really 
 believe till it is too late." 
 
 " They will be all right where they are," said 
 Claude shortly. " If Shovell does as I told him, 
 that is." 
 
 "Don't you think she is absolutely beautiful*?" 
 said Violet. 
 
 " Well," he demurred. " Absolute beauty is a 
 high saying. She is a pleasure to the eye, certainly. 
 I've seldom seen a creature so well-formed." 
 
 Violet made a faint grimace. " Technical a 
 trifle," she said. " Say something nicer than that." 
 
 " She seems fond of you," said Claude, touching 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 279 
 
 her hair. He avoided saying what, to him, was 
 obvious, that the girl had knocked over poor young 
 Shovell. He had an excellent unwillingness to inter- 
 vene between boys and girls at the first stage of their 
 stories, for all his bitterly-acquired knowledge. But 
 he did wonder a little, as his eyes rested on the pale- 
 faced girl below him, if Violet were to be fore- 
 doomed in life to unhappiness, like himself. He had 
 seen her liking for young Shovell very well; her 
 confidence in him was pretty, if ingenuous. He 
 thought fate might spare such children, at least for 
 the present; yet he had small faith left in fate, 
 especially to-night, with the consciousness in the 
 background of his mind perpetually, of Eveleen and 
 that fellow together at Bering Park. He had known 
 all day, in the stress of thought for others, that those 
 black clouds were storing themselves for his first 
 leisure. It was all he could do, for the girl's sake, 
 to resist them now; and even so, it was only by a 
 counteracting anxiety. 
 
 Claude supposed, since Arthur Gibbs had told 
 him so, that he was over-anxious about Violet, but 
 he schooled himself with reasoning in vain. She 
 was not like other girls, so how could he be supposed 
 to argue reassurance from the experience of other 
 men? She was so near to him too, his authorship 
 so evident, it increased the burden. He himself had 
 handed her the terrible inheritance of intellect, — 
 
28o A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 terrible surely for women, who must pay the daily 
 toll of feeling too, — and he doubted constantly, 
 wretchedly, if he had handed her the strength neces- 
 sary to sustain it. Arthur at Glasswell that Sunday 
 had encouraged him to believe that the strength or 
 self-support was in her, and it might be so. At least, 
 strength or no, Claude did not intend to keep her 
 by him a moment longer than he need. He had 
 told Arthur so roundly, on that occasion. He had 
 reasons in both his capacities for wishing her married, 
 for he believed her health and happiness to lie that 
 way. 
 
 Violet, who had long ceased dining, and was 
 dreaming in her fashion too, startled him by speak- 
 ing suddenly. 
 
 " Father dear," she said, lifting her eyes to him, 
 and laying her head back on the pillows glimmering 
 in the dusk, " you are a very wise man. Do you 
 think it is safe, ever, to meddle with other lives ^ 
 To try for instance to drag people who are apart 
 together'? Can it ever really be done, with any 
 profit^ " 
 
 He turned, and walked away to the window 
 where the late summer twilight was fading. Mar- 
 garet had tried that: she had tried in his own case. 
 But not to bring together, — the reverse. 
 
 " I think it is no use," he said at last. " But try. 
 Pussy, by all means. You are bound to do it well." 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 281 
 
 " To fail brilliantly," said Violet. 
 
 He nodded. That was precisely what Margaret 
 had done. He had never, to this late day, resented, 
 or forgotten, her interference. How sweet she had 
 been, how earnest, and how valiantly alone! She 
 had not summoned even Arthur, her trusted knight, 
 to lend her countenance in a work which might, by 
 one false word — he knew it well — have cleft her 
 life apart from his finally. As it was, Eveleen had 
 hated her, and he had loved without a shadow, 
 with a new respect. Standing by the London win- 
 dow, he caught a glint of moonlight on the slates, 
 the same moon that was shining on them down 
 there, among the exquisite country sounds. Mar- 
 garet had been his moon, bright even then with the 
 crescent radiance. Now that the sun of his love 
 was setting sulkily, that moon of early affection 
 shone ever brighter, rising in the darkening sky. 
 He did not try to word the image, — emotion had 
 got ahead even of words, for his ingenious mind, to- 
 night, — only it was there, all ready to be found. 
 
 He gathered himself with an effort, and walked 
 back to the girl, seating himself quietly in the chair 
 beside her bed. 
 
 " I am a fool. Puss," he said, with youthful sim- 
 plicity — so-called, for simplicity is invariably ma- 
 ture. " I have never learnt how to fail. I am 
 inclined to say, you had better learn it young and get 
 
282 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 it over. It's my misfortune — perhaps more mis- 
 fortune than fault — that I never did." 
 
 Violet stretched out her fingers and took his hand. 
 
 " You simply can't," she declared. " I am sorry 
 to doubt your word, dear, but I can't promise even 
 a brilliant failure to such as you. You are always 
 in the very middle of the target. Even in little 
 things like this dinner, you do right instinctively. I 
 thought you were wrong, I may confess it, when it 
 appeared. I was dreadfully nervous for your credit, 
 quite as much as for my own. But now, I feel so 
 much better — it's quite ridiculous." 
 
 He remained stationary, a hand across his face. 
 It might have been his sister speaking. He was 
 haunted simply. 
 
 Violet began to talk, as though she knew that 
 was what he needed. She told him stories, about 
 Margery and others. He only began to listen by 
 degrees — to the sense, that is : he loved the manner 
 and the phrasing so much. 
 
 Of course one could not think much of Margery 
 Gibbs when Violet was by, though Margery was his 
 sister's own girl. She was not the least Margaret's 
 girl really. Yet she was pretty and steady and 
 trustful, and had got into a tangle, so it seemed. A 
 gardener, — oh ridiculous ! The girl had the pick of 
 London and Cambridge, Robert Brading, at her beck 
 and call. Violet was romantic and credulous, as 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 283 
 
 young girls are. Was that the kind of situation she 
 was managing? 
 
 Then Violet spoke of his running over, or failing 
 to run over, somebody, — the gardener again. And 
 suddenly, he saw a face. The face of a man by the 
 wayside, — the same, though beardless, — connected 
 with an instant of ghastly tragedy, a crowd, a sordid 
 clamour, sights and scents frequent in his own life, 
 but nothing that \'iolet could or should even know. 
 Was that the man — Margery's *? What was the 
 child dreaming of'? What was this*? 
 
 Claude awoke, for indeed his weariness had gained 
 on him, and in the twilight of the airy chamber, the 
 soft voice soothing him, he had been near to sleep. 
 He caught himself up in a barely visible movement, 
 and considered sharply. 
 
 Yes, to be sure : Gibbs' gardener. He had left it 
 in Arthur's hands to judge. Young Brading also 
 had written him a line; somewhere among the mass 
 of his weekly correspondence, it had been handed 
 him by his secretary, and he had replied. He had 
 supposed a young detective following a scent, — he 
 had not guessed a jealous lover. Yes, here was 
 trouble, very possibly: Violet was right. Something 
 could, and had better possibly, be done. 
 
 Violet saw him awaken out of his languor, and his 
 eyes gather life again, and she was pleased. 
 
 " You like Mr. Brading, don't you. Father? " she 
 
284 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 said artlessly. " It is silly of course of Margery, if 
 true: but I have reason to believe it is a fact. My 
 correspondents' inaccuracies cancel one another, you 
 know, like fractions, — and facts emerge. If it 
 is true, — do you suppose anything can be done 
 about it? " 
 
 "Oh, certainly — yes," said Claude. His tone 
 was brisk. 
 
 " That's more like it," Violet congratulated him. 
 ** You look quite clever again. Shall we conspire, 
 in the matter, just a little? Do you enjoy con- 
 spiracy a deux? Perhaps you had better abandon 
 Mother at Dering, and come to Glasswell after all." 
 
 " Oh, rubbish," he said. " Never use two where 
 one will serve. Besides, I am obviously too old to 
 be appropriate." 
 
 " You don't look awfully old," said Violet. " I 
 daresay you could distract dear Margery's atten- 
 tion, if you tried." 
 
 " While you set your cap at what's-his-name? 
 That's your idea of disentangling, is it? I won't 
 have a thing to do with it, it's disreputable. Gang 
 your own gait and don't disturb your parents." 
 
 " Should I have my ' dot ' if I came to you en- 
 gaged to him?" enquired Violet. "He is an en- 
 tirely beautiful man. His name suggests Christina 
 Rossetti, — ' peacocks with a hundred eyes.' I am 
 sure you would like me to have that name. He is 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 285 
 
 also silent and strong, as Charles observed. In books 
 I have always loved that special sort." 
 
 " And they always marry the heroine? " 
 
 " So they do. Is Margery the heroine — or am I*? 
 Look at me well, — an awful question. I'm sure I'm 
 better dressed." She shook the white silk and apple 
 blossom down her slim bare arm; her hand was hold- 
 ing him tightly all the time. 
 
 " You're sleepy," said her doctor-father definitely. 
 " If you say another word, I will dethrone you both 
 from heroineship, and put up that pretty girl across 
 the river you showed me to-night." 
 
 " Oh do. Father I Say you will I You are an 
 Angel of intelligence, really." ^ 
 
 "Am I*?" The Angel of intelligence began to 
 put her pillows straight. He did not trouble much 
 about her extravagance, except to mark how easily 
 the high wind of excitement rose. 
 
 " Is that right*? " he asked after a moment or two. 
 
 " Perfect," said Violet. " I must really have re- 
 course to your services again, Dr. Asbwin, next time 
 I have the vapours. Good night." 
 
 " Nothing further? " he insisted, glancing about 
 him beneath a slightly furrowed brow. Perfection 
 was the least, the very least, his daughter could be 
 allowed. 
 
 " Oh well, — a kiss, of course," said she. 
 
 He half-started, turned, and bent to her, shyly 
 
286 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 almost; and she caught him with her slender arms. 
 It was a singular thing, worth noting, but Eveleen 
 Ashwin disliked embracing in her presence, especially 
 if Claude was a party concerned; and Violet fre- 
 quently kissed him by stealth. She referred to the 
 fact now, as he held her. 
 
 "Mother would despise us, wouldn't she*?" she 
 laughed. " I'm smaller, I suppose, — I can't do with- 
 out it." 
 
 " Nor I," he answered just audibly. She did not 
 seem to hear him, — she was thinking of his comfort 
 still. 
 
 " Empty rooms, poor dear, and no billiards, — no 
 girl to play to you even. Can't you telephone to Mr. 
 Warden? Won't you go over to the Club? " 
 
 " No, I have letters to write," he said. 
 
 " Not duty ones, then : leave those for Mr. Ford." 
 
 "Not duty. A line to your mother, and half a 
 line to Arthur Gibbs." 
 
 "To Uncle Arthur? Half a line more of love, 
 then, from me. Two lines of letter, all told, — 
 promise me no more." 
 
 " Nothing to Mother? " he suggested. 
 
 " Of course, — don't be absurd, — all the desirable 
 things." 
 
 " Desirable ! " he thought, in triumph almost at 
 her accurate instinct. Even in his arms, she did not 
 deceive him for an instant. 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 287 
 
 " I was teasing simply, darling," he said. " That 
 is enough: lie down." 
 
 His " half-line " to Arthur Gibbs, written some 
 twenty minutes later, ran as follows: 
 
 " Dear Arthur, 
 
 " Would you rather fool another, or be fooled'? 
 According to your answer, I shall judge henceforth 
 of your calling, and how you have spent your life. I 
 omitted to insist that your gardener was rather an 
 ill-regulated knave, while suggesting to your more 
 charitable judgment he was an ass. Well, did you 
 ever hear of Titania*? I am informed love-in-idle- 
 ness grows about your garden, — on the authority 
 of my own flower, who should know. Heave it out, 
 I advise you, for not even prospective graduates are 
 safe in summer-time. 
 
 " Will you have Violet for a fortnight from Tues- 
 day next? She is asked to Dering along with us, 
 but I will not take her there. I throw myself on 
 Mrs. Gibbs' clemency instead. Violet, who sends 
 her love to you, is not sick, only sensational; and 
 girls and greenhorns are the safest company. No 
 offence whatever to Mr. Charles," 
 
 The Reverend Mr. Gibbs replied in kind, after 
 some twenty- four hours impressive pause. 
 
 " Claude," he preluded sternly, 
 
288 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " You are reckless by nature, and frivolous by 
 education, and no hard experience seems to help you. 
 You have risked our friendship, which I value con- 
 siderably, on one smart throw; and I regret to tell 
 you you have won the stakes. As it is, I am not 
 even going to quarrel with you, I am too depressed. 
 How, with my practice in your pestilent obscurantist 
 methods, I failed originally to guess, I can only leave 
 your impudence to supply. Probably you patted 
 my hobby in the intervals of suggesting scandal to 
 his rider's nobler ear. 
 
 " I simply don't know what to do with Margery, 
 and I dread, for her, the results of chucking the man. 
 I have talked to both all I know, and both baffle me, 
 especially he. Oh, deuce take it, why couldn't you 
 tell a fellow before it happened^ I'm getting old, 
 and never was a serpent, or a society man. Hen- 
 rietta, who noticed nothing, is especially down on 
 me, and it is true I knew Margery before she did. 
 Maud, of course, has been suffering in silence, and 
 will hardly speak to me even now. How you dis- 
 covered — I suppose along with Satan, who was cer- 
 tainly concerned. I passionately refuse to believe 
 that you are in the confidence, to that extent, of a 
 damsel of eighteen. I have myself a girl of eighteen, 
 and if you assert anything of the kind, you lie. 
 
 " My blessing on the child, and send her quickly. 
 Her uncle pins his faith to her. Margery wants 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 289 
 
 shaking, and her sister won't, and I daren't, and 
 it's against Henrietta's principles. Violet alone can 
 do it. Indeed, I doubt she has been at the work 
 already : for when I said she was coming, Maid Mar- 
 gery melted into tears.'* 
 
II 
 
 LOVE IN IDLENESS 
 
 Dr. Ashwin did not go down to Dering, for on the 
 eve of departure a frantic telegram from Lady 
 Brading summoned him. But Violet did go down to 
 Glasswell, and Margery, who had been shrinking 
 from all society, met her at the station. 
 
 It is not our intention to describe what the two 
 girls said to one another, in the somewhat prolonged 
 interval before the dog-cart reached the house. The 
 pony, for lack of any encouragement from Margery's 
 lazy whip, walked at his own pace, and followed his 
 own erratic course up the hilly winding road, jerking 
 the two girls every time he turned. A gusty breeze 
 blew Violet's hair about unheeded. She talked the 
 most, and had, for a large part of the way, a hand 
 upon her cousin's wrist. Margery did not cry, but 
 her pretty face looked drawn and lifeless. 
 
 She admitted she had heard from Robert, though 
 she would not show Violet the letter, and Violet did 
 not ask to see it. She admitted, on her cousin's 
 suggestion, that she was very sorry for him. One 
 could not be less than that, towards a man who was 
 
FOREIGN ADxMINISTRATIONS 291, 
 
 losing by slow but agonising degrees a wise and 
 open-handed father, whose mother was worn to 
 shreds by anxiety, and literally half-crazed by grief. 
 The Bradings were an affectionate and closely-knit 
 family, and it was certainly very hard on Bob. 
 
 But Margery could not feel rightly about it, 
 barely even as her up-bringing and conscientious 
 principles dictated. Maud was a better girl than 
 she was, she told Violet, and felt things more deeply, 
 by far. She wished, — she did wish quite wildly, — 
 that Mr. Brading would think of Maud, or anybody 
 else, and forget about her. She was impatient with 
 everyone, in gusts. She was very miserable, very 
 remorseful for worrying Papa, but she could not 
 feel otherwise than she did. She supposed God 
 had decreed it, — and she left it there. 
 
 Violet supposed nothing of the sort, but she did 
 not say so. She soothed Margery by pretty talk of 
 other things. She admired the woodland views and 
 vistas, — so much preferable from a friendly pony- 
 cart, rather than from a flustering one. She enquired 
 if Margery had been painting much, and received 
 a curt negative for answer. She regretted it, for she 
 personally hankered after a certain view of Glass- 
 well village from the home field, — and her birthday 
 was coming quite soon. Apropos, would Margery 
 come for her birthday party? — Mother had said 
 she might have one. Margery, still aloof, had an 
 
292 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 idea the Newnham rules were rather strict. Violet 
 was pained to hear it, but had an immutable con- 
 viction that a note from Father to the Principal 
 would adjust things, as soon as it became essential, 
 according to her taste. 
 
 At the house, she was surprised to hear that 
 Charles was away. Margery had never mentioned 
 that I It was evidently news to Violet, though the 
 Gibbs family had presumed she must be in the 
 secret, and had indeed been awaiting enlightenment. 
 Charles, it seemed, had been away since Saturday, 
 — the Players' match. Mrs. Gibbs, concealing her 
 prompt alarm, had told everybody that a friend 
 had taken him home after the match, and he had 
 slept where he dined, regardless of everybody's con- 
 venience, as usual. Violet's brows lifted, and her 
 eyes turned absent, while they talked. It occurred 
 to her at once that Charles had had some plot in 
 mind when he sought her that evening at the studio. 
 He had behaved and looked at her so oddly, almost 
 with reproach, and she had been too dazed at the 
 time to account for it. He had expected her co- 
 operation in the game, no doubt, and, when she 
 fainted instead, had been naturally disgusted with 
 her lack of spirit. Looking back, Violet decided 
 that, headache and such details notwithstanding, 
 she had been rather unfeeling to poor Charles. She 
 only trusted Alice had been kinder, but one could 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 293 
 
 not be sure. Alice had not had a promising appear- 
 ance that night of suffering casual young gentlemen 
 gladly. Alice was a cranky girl, at times. 
 
 All this Violet thought, but she kept her counsel ; 
 for evidently, in his own household, all was not 
 well on the subject of Charles. Maud told her in 
 private, his note to Mamma had been strange. 
 Mamma thought he was behaving strangely, and 
 even before his departure they had noticed some- 
 thing strange in Charles. The word " strange " was 
 as far as Maud, at least, tried to get in the matter; 
 but she was clearly deep in her stepmother's confi- 
 dence, and Violet thought her sympathy very beau- 
 tiful, even if the wording of it lacked variety. 
 Personally, being a mere outsider, she only put in a 
 word or two to cheer Mrs. Gibbs, who was inclined 
 to secret worry, as Violet had long since regretfully 
 perceived. 
 
 " I am sure he will do nothing silly," said Violet 
 definitely. " It's only some fine adventure, you 
 know, which will fizzle out like a firework quite 
 soon. And he will have the most beautiful story 
 about it, for you and the rest of us, when he comes 
 home." 
 
 Mrs. Gibbs could not but admit this showed real 
 knowledge of Charles; and, though the assurance 
 came from such an unauthenticated quarter, it con- 
 soled her curiously. 
 
294 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 It occurred to Margery, the following afternoon, 
 to go down into the field to paint, when she had spent 
 some time getting her palettes into order, for the 
 apparatus had suffered from its sudden and complete 
 neglect. Consequently, having helped her off, Miss 
 Ashwin was at a loose end. She talked nicely in 
 the drawing-room for a period, and then, having 
 informed Maud and her aunt that they were horribly 
 busy, wandered out upon the lawn. 
 
 It was a pleasant day, and Uncle Arthur's garden 
 was looking beautiful. Several improvements, of 
 which he had spoken to Violet as mere projects at 
 their last encounter, had become actualities in the 
 course of the summer. She sought for some time, 
 wandering from point to point and taking observa- 
 tions, to explain the difference in the place since 
 May; for of course she would sooner or later have 
 to report an opinion to the proprietor, and it was 
 better to prepare words for it. 
 
 She came to the conclusion finally, that whereas 
 it had then been an amateurish garden with a 
 professional finish, it was now a professional garden 
 with a personal note. She liked the personal note 
 immensely while admiring the immaculate order and 
 prosperity of the whole parterre. She had no 
 idea, being city-born, how Uncle Arthur and clever 
 Peacock did it, — it seemed a pity someone like 
 Charles was not at her side to explain. Charles had 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 295 
 
 explained various interesting matters to her before, 
 because he was a person given to sitting about 
 the world and noting details. Now Violet always 
 intended to improve her mind by this process, — but 
 when it should have begun, she generally forgot, and 
 dreamed. That was a tiresome inheritance from the 
 Ashwin stock that she could not, like " the doctor," 
 learn to overcome. She trusted to do so, in time. 
 
 Her white dress flashed to and fro for some time 
 about the walks in sight of the house, and Maud told 
 her mother in the drawing-room that Violet was prob- 
 ably composing something, and need not be bothered 
 about by anybody, because Maud knew the signs. 
 So Mrs. Gibbs did not bother, and went out with a 
 basket containing the Rector's cast-off boots, to see 
 a family in the village. Maud, on h r departure, 
 slank instantly to the kitchen, where her cake- 
 making talents were of value; and the flash of 
 Violet's skirt disappeared simuhaneously from the 
 flowered parterre, and was lost behind the laurel 
 hedges of the kitchen-garden. She thought it very 
 probable she should find Peacock working there. 
 
 She judged correctly, and had not to seek long. 
 Peacock, on a short ladder, was correcting an over- 
 powering growth of creeper against the low roof of 
 his own cottage. It was evidently most artistic 
 and entrancing work, and he was deeply engrossed 
 by it. Violet, at her first observation of his pro- 
 
296 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 ceedings, thought she perceived that nature must 
 be cajoled by gardeners, and coaxed to believe that 
 she had done it all herself when the creepers and 
 rose trees took an especially elegant shape. There 
 must be no force anywhere, only flattery: because 
 nature was a woman, perhaps. That was all very 
 interesting indeed, — but Peacock was more so. 
 
 She had looked through all Margery's sketches, 
 of course, and been properly impressed, by artist 
 and model equally. Now, especially when he first 
 perceived her, and leant a hand on an upper window- 
 ledge, in a most dangerous pose, to turn and take 
 her in, she thought she had seldom seen a more heroic 
 figure. But for the most complete strength and 
 physical poise, that ladder must necessarily have 
 come crashing down, and Mr. Peacock's life and 
 labours been summarily ended. It did not, and the 
 gardener turned to his work again. 
 
 " How beautiful your cottage looks," said Violet. 
 
 " Yes, miss," said Pesfcock. 
 
 That was extraordinarily nice of him, to exhibit 
 no shame in admitting gratification in the ownership 
 of a beautiful object, which was largely his own 
 production. It signified various latent virtues, such 
 as dignity, self-respect, an open mind and a sense of 
 beauty, to Violet's trained perceptions. The terse- 
 ness of its expression was its final charm. Violet 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 297 
 
 hardly wondered, as she prepared her next move, 
 that poor Margery had been attracted. 
 
 " I wonder if you found my card," she said, ap- 
 proaching a little, though she eyed the ladder 
 anxiously, " when I and Mr. Shovell called before. 
 It is some time since, but you may remember. He 
 brought me here, because I did so want to see and 
 congratulate you." 
 
 " Thank you, miss," said Peacock, — the obvious 
 answer, exacted by the highest social standards, and 
 beautifully spoken. His voice was nice, rather sub- 
 dued, his consonants especially clear and distinct. 
 
 " Now you are still more to be congratulated," 
 said Violet, " f or I hear from Mr. Gibbs that one of 
 your beautiful roses, and several of the peas, got a 
 prize." 
 
 " Three, miss," said Peacock. 
 
 " Really'? " said Violet. " That is better still." 
 She felt her own remark was commonplace. Really, 
 she thought, she must rub up her conversation, if 
 she was not to be beaten in open field by this truly 
 striking man. Unluckily, she knew so little about 
 his profession herself, — but then ladies trained on 
 the Riviera, and personally invited by Earls, know 
 how to overcome that difficulty. 
 
 " The large shell-coloured rose," said Violet, 
 "with the little pearly drops between the petals, 
 
298 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 against the wall by the stable, strikes me as specially 
 beautiful. Was that the prize one, I wonder^ " 
 
 " No, miss," said Peacock. Well, it was no 
 wonder that professionals should kick occasionally, 
 at the pretentious and silly observations of the 
 amateur. She felt she must be especially courteous 
 and attentive, to make up. There was the motor 
 incident, for example, — a word in season could well 
 be said as to that. 
 
 " I ought to tell you," said Violet, " how deeply 
 I regret my father — Dr. Ashwin's behaviour to you 
 — oh!" 
 
 She could not avoid the exclamation, and shrank 
 back; for the ladder seemed in imminent danger of 
 collapsing. Peacock caught the coping and saved 
 himself, trampling it sedulously straight. He did 
 not turn, though, or excuse himself to the lady. 
 
 " I'm very sorry," said Violet, rather low and 
 breathless, "and I hate to interrupt you in your 
 work; but it makes me too nervous to talk while 
 you stand up there. Would you terribly mind, I 
 wonder, coming down*? " 
 
 Peacock, unheeding her, continued to work 
 imperturbably. He might not have heard her re- 
 quest, — possibly did not, for he had begun to snip 
 with some squeaky shears. Miss Ashwin never made 
 a request to a gentleman twice. She waited for the 
 next pause in the clipping, — she had to wait some 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 299 
 
 time, with her teeth on edge, — and then she said: 
 " Mr. Peacock I " 
 
 He could not pretend that the soft staccato voice 
 was not bound to reach him, so he turned his head a 
 little, sufficient to show that he heard. 
 
 " Are you angry with us^ " said Violet. " Perhaps 
 it startled you, that day." 
 
 There was the faintest movement in the man's 
 shoulders, resembling a shrug, for answer. He took 
 up the shears again. The situation was, socially 
 speaking, trying in the extreme, as well as completely 
 unexpected. He had begun with such delightful 
 and satisfactory responsiveness, according to Violet's 
 skilled reading, that it was the more disappointing. 
 If only Charles were there I 
 
 " Is it Father you are angry with'? " said Violet. 
 *' Father is rather heedless, especially when he is in 
 a hurry, and he always expects other people to be as 
 quick as he is. But he meant no harm." 
 
 She heard a slight mutter, and gave it the best 
 attainable interpretation. 
 
 " Please don't apologise," she said. " It was 
 entirely our fault. I always resent it fearfully when 
 people give me shocks " 
 
 It could not surely have been intentional, but he 
 moved his feet again, and the ladder, with horrid 
 suddenness, swung sidelong into the creeper, which 
 fortunately stayed it up, and prevented it from 
 
300 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 dashing to the earth in Violet's direction. At the 
 same moment Peacock spurned the ladder, and with 
 a remarkable exhibition of strength, grace and 
 agility, swarmed upon the roof. When Violet 
 opened her eyes, and unclenched the little fists she 
 had gripped in panic at her breast, he was actually 
 upon the roof, half kneeling, though turned away, 
 
 " But I don't bear malice," she finished, in her 
 very sweetest manner, approaching and looking up 
 at him, " when the shock is safely past." 
 
 It was as she stood there, quite close, though 
 below him, awaiting the apology any gentleman, 
 man or gardener, high or low, would have offered to 
 such as she, that he rose to his feet, turned, and she 
 saw him fully, for he faced her, — a gallant shape of 
 manhood, his body backed against the mossy roof, 
 his head and shoulders against the sky. She noticed 
 the shoulders shaking, thought he had been alarmed 
 as well, and did not, for an instant, believe the 
 evidence of her eyes. 
 
 He was laughing! 
 
 Violet could not declare later why that laughter 
 frightened her, but it did. It was like the laughter 
 of an impish, heartless boy, — not that of a man 
 grown and trained to serious ways of life. Abel 
 Peacock saw her face beneath him turn white and 
 grave, and, after a second's pause, her slight figure 
 turn and withdraw in the direction of the shrubbery 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 301 
 
 that shrouded the cottage to the further side. He 
 watched her white dress vanish: then he stopped 
 laughing, sat down upon the coping of the roof, and 
 considered deep and bitterly. 
 
Ill 
 
 NOTES 
 
 Violet missed Charles very badly as she thought 
 over Peacock's behaviour; though she was too 
 proud, after the first, to wonder openly where he 
 was. As it chanced, though, the next morning she 
 was herself able to offer the anxious circle some news 
 of him, though sufficiently vague and indirect, for 
 she had a letter from Mr. Warden. 
 
 The letter, since she had left London but eight- 
 and-forty hours before, was ridiculously long and 
 closely written ; and Violet, poring over its contents 
 before lunch in the garden, appeared to find it en- 
 thralling. Mr. Gibbs at the lunch-table teased her 
 busily on the subject of her beaux, but got nothing 
 of much value to appease the general curiosity. 
 
 " He often writes to me," she said, " and always 
 volumes. He probably hopes I shall publish them 
 twenty years hence, when he is safely dead; but if I 
 do, I shall have to snip out whole paragraphs, for 
 they absolutely bristle with personalities." 
 
 " For instance," said Mr. Gibbs, settling comfort- 
 ably. 
 
FOREIGN ADxMINISTRATIONS 303 
 
 " For instance, — he met my friend Alice at a 
 restaurant, and he says she fell in love with him at 
 first sight. Now knowing Mr. Warden's ways I 
 am aware that means he was rather dangerously 
 attracted, and probably teased her with attentions. 
 But nobody could know that, could they'? — without 
 a note." 
 
 " A few more notes on the document in hand," 
 said Mr. Gibbs, glancing about him, " would be 
 acceptable to the Public." 
 
 " I will append one," said Violet, " in the sanctity 
 of your study, after lunch. Do you mind if I do'? " 
 
 " I smoke in my study," said Mr. Gibbs. 
 
 " Well, I have no objection to a cigarette. I have 
 never dared to in Alice's company, though often at 
 a critical juncture, such as a fitting, I have simply 
 ached for it." 
 
 " Your aunt is sorry to hear this, Violet," said Mr. 
 Gibbs, striving for the dignity of his cloth. 
 
 " She has done as much herself before now," said 
 Violet, " when Charles worried her for subscriptions 
 to things at school. She told me so while we were un- 
 packing." She smiled down the table to Mrs, Gibbs. 
 
 " She never told me" said the Rector severely. 
 
 " Oh, good heavens I " said Violet, dropping back. 
 " I have violated confidence. I quite thought by 
 this time you would have got at everything. It can't 
 matter, though," she added, bethinking herself, 
 
304 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " because she gave it up two years later for Charles' 
 sake." 
 
 " Does your mother smoke, Violet? " said Mrs. 
 Gibbs, just for the sake of saying something. 
 
 " Really, I hardly know," said Violet. " I can't 
 imagine she can need it. What do you say'? " She 
 glanced lightly at her uncle, who bit his lip. Her 
 clear cold tone about her mother invariably went to 
 the Rector's heart: it seemed to him so pitiful, and 
 marked such a steady attitude of disdain. He 
 would have stopped his wife, but she was still at the 
 stage of curiosity about the child. 
 
 " What is that place like your father mentioned," 
 she enquired, " Dering Park? " 
 
 Violet blushed visibly, but hardly hesitated. 
 
 " It is a beautiful old place," she said, slowly, 
 " full of beautiful new people. The Derings never 
 want them, but they come." 
 
 "How can they come without an invitation?" 
 said innocent Maud. 
 
 Violet did not answer directly. " Mother got one," 
 she confided privately for her uncle's ear. " Father 
 congratulated her solemnly on the occasion. It's a 
 record, really, only unfortunately the other people 
 will never know." 
 
 "Was she uplifted?" said Mr. Gibbs, adopting 
 the same tone of exaggerated confidence. 
 
 "Well," said Violet, "I watched hard for the 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 305 
 
 symptoms. But I saw nothing, and Father's secre- 
 tary thought she was going to refuse." 
 
 " Marvellous woman," said Mr. Gibbs, shaking 
 his head. " She will certainly go far. But what has 
 the secretary got to do with it? " 
 
 " Oh," said Violet, " he answers nearly all her 
 letters that Father doesn't, you know. When Father 
 isn't there. Mother often uses him. He is a very 
 amenable person, Mr. Ford." 
 
 The Rector's expressive eye just caught his wife's, 
 filled with a sublime horror. In future they avoided 
 the subject of Eveleen and her amenable surround- 
 ings with some care. Violet, always strained to 
 combine accuracy with delicacy on the subject, was 
 grateful to them. 
 
 She was much more comfortable with Mr. Gibbs, 
 alone, in the study after lunch. She was still far 
 from well, and easily tired, and she settled gratefully 
 into the deep leather chair he advanced for her 
 accommodation. 
 
 " Dear Uncle Arthur," she said, when he kissed 
 her in passing to his own. " This is the first time we 
 have had a fair chance, isn't it*? I hope you are 
 really at liberty, this time, and not just bearing with 
 me." 
 
 " I can bear with you, my dear," he assured her 
 quietly. " You look perfectly in place." 
 
 " Do you think so? " said Violet, answering the 
 
3o6 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 allusion, not the words. " Father does too. But she 
 was much more really beautiful, wasn't she? " 
 
 " No," said the Rector. " None of you are really 
 beautiful. You all have an elvish strain. Moon- 
 light elves," he added pensively. 
 
 She was silent for a period, thinking. 
 
 " It's not hopeless," she said at last. " Margery's 
 side, I mean. I have come to that conclusion." 
 
 " Thank God," said the Rector, without profanity. 
 Then she waited again for a time. 
 
 " The man's extraordinary," she said, frowning. 
 " You would say he dreads and hates me, — no, do 
 not interrupt." She stretched a hand. " I have done 
 nothing to him but try to talk a little. There must 
 be more in it, Uncle Arthur. My informants have 
 left out something." 
 
 " If your informant was your father," said the 
 Rector, " he probably has." 
 
 Violet shook her head. " Father was useless 
 utterly. Though of course I guessed he had a hand 
 in it, that night he wrote to you." 
 
 " He was a principal in it," said Mr. Gibbs. " But 
 I know all the story. The man really is not fitted 
 for my daughter, I can say it without scruple or 
 snobbishness. He is a trifle ill-balanced, I believe, 
 — or rather, Ashwin believes, who must know best. 
 There is certain evidence for it." 
 
 Violet still frowned at him. " Oh, I hope not," 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 307 
 
 she breathed. " You see, I wish him to marry some- 
 body — not Margery — very much. He was once 
 very nearly engaged to her. Shall I tell you all I 
 know, Uncle Arthur^ I will not ask for yours." 
 
 " No," said the Rector, after a minute of re- 
 flection. " We will share." 
 
 "Oh I" Violet beamed at him. " One for the 
 doctor, that is, isn't it? I will tell him that when I 
 write." Then she grew serious again. " It is my 
 dear friend, Miss Eccles, who is in question," she 
 said. " I have simply not dared, so far, to mention 
 her to Peacock, because she was the unconscious 
 origin of the trouble before." 
 
 " Do not mention it then, I charge you, my child," 
 said the Rector, moving to her side. " I thank 
 Heaven you have not tried, at least alone. I could 
 never forgive myself if you suffered." 
 
 " Entendu^'' said Violet, and passed him her 
 hand. "But why does he dislike me? I tried to 
 be nice about his flowers, and he really cares for 
 them." 
 
 " The man's a born horticulturist, — Heaven- 
 made," said Mr. Gibbs, gazing upon his precious 
 garden with sad eyes, as he held her fingers. " His 
 head is level enough in his work." Then he looked 
 down at her. " He connects your name," he ex- 
 plained, " with his disgrace. He had hoped to escape 
 all connection with old history, by coming here. He 
 
3o8 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 suspects probably that you are in the secret. It's 
 enough to exasperate anybody," added the Rector 
 pensively, " such a bit of rank bad luck as meeting 
 you. I see that." 
 
 Violet gazed at him. " Did he assassinate any- 
 body*? " she said with her charming dryness. " Tell 
 me the worst." 
 
 So Mr. Gibbs told her, watching his words, and 
 she listened, her widened eyes fixed sidelong on his 
 face. The shock had been broken already, of course, 
 by Alice's hints, and her own conjectures; but her 
 head collapsed into her hands before the end. She 
 did not attempt to conceal her dazed horror at the 
 complication. She only emerged from her hands to 
 admit, with a frank look at her uncle, that it was 
 quite too much for her. 
 
 " I might have known," she added, " if you and 
 Father both stuck, I could not add much to it. How 
 appalling, — and sad. Oh dear I " 
 
 " Don't give way," said the Rector, half laughing 
 and half anxious. " There is always the woman's 
 contribution, you know, the widow's mite, which 
 neither Father nor I can supply. What offers now, 
 my lady, — come I " 
 
 " There's only one thing I can offer," said Violet, 
 after prolonged thought. " It is this — he can't 
 possibly marry anyone but Alice, can he*? " 
 
 " I trust not. But why? " 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 309 
 
 " Why, it's against reason," said Violet pettishly. 
 " Kill yourself for one girl and marry another^ He 
 must be philandering with Margery simply out of 
 bravado, and to make his own girl jealous. The 
 crudest sort of savage has brains enough for that." 
 
 " Humph," said Mr. Gibbs. He had got the 
 woman's contribution certainly. It seemed to hold 
 water too, on investigation, though startling from 
 such a quarter. He set his lips oddly, and looked 
 upon his niece. 
 
 " Since when have you understood the crudest sort 
 of savage, Miss Violet^ " he said. 
 
 " Oh, lately," said Violet, faintly blushing. 
 " Study of Mr. Peacock helps, of course. But I had 
 not expected that part of the work, you know. I 
 had hoped to leave that to Charles." Still blushing, 
 she lifted her eyes to Mr. Gibbs. " I do want 
 Charles' assistance, really. I wish I knew where he 
 was. If you do find out, I wish you would tell him 
 that I miss him dreadfully, — at every turn. I don't 
 know why — you will not understand — but I had 
 especially counted on his assistance in this under- 
 taking." 
 
 " An excellent courage," thought the Rector. 
 " But they all have that. You value Charles," he 
 said thoughtfully, aloud. " Do you think, Violet, 
 we undervalue him?" 
 
 " No, no, I believe you do not. As for her — for 
 
310 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 Aunt Henrietta — I shall have to see." She laid 
 her fingers carelessly to her cheek, produced a letter, 
 and unfolded it. Then she rose suddenly, — as 
 though on springs. " No, I must get up," she said 
 at his protest. " I must sit at a table to show you. 
 The other was sentiment and sympathy, wasn't it? 
 This part is Business. Wait." 
 
 He watched her, while she seated herself with 
 dainty precision, and spread out two sheets of her 
 long letter before her. He wondered if she were 
 going to tell him that she and Charles were engaged. 
 He was quite prepared, with the humiliation of his 
 recent shock, for that. Her tenderness towards the 
 boy was undoubted, for he had marked the quality 
 of that blush. It was the loveliest kind, — the 
 earliest. He had suspected as much before, yet he 
 hardly thought she was aware herself at present. 
 All the Rector's mind was set on making things 
 easier for her, and not seeking to force nature's own 
 sweet ways. 
 
 " What is it, this mighty matter*? " he enquired, 
 putting an arm about her as she sat. " Business is 
 scarcely your province, young lady, I think." 
 
 " You are wrong, then," said Violet haughtily. 
 " My own business at Battersea is spreading. We 
 have taken an extra room, and Father has audited 
 our Balance-sheet. He says we are solid, — there I 
 Now perhaps you will attend to me, about the 
 
FOREIGN ADxMINISTRATIONS 311 
 
 matter of Charles. . . . You see, my friend 
 Mr. Warden has a vacancy, — he gives me all the 
 details here. He has met Charles and approved him. 
 He thinks he could establish him in life, if he is 
 willing, — and you (plural you) — and I." 
 
 " Singular you^ " said Mr. Gibbs. 
 
 " I am afraid," said Violet, " Aunt Henrietta will 
 think us rather foolish, but Mr. Warden demands 
 my recommendation for Charles. He exacts it. He 
 says he has his reasons. What he means by that I 
 don't suggest, except to say he is a sentimental old 
 gentleman. I had already mentioned the document 
 needed notes. . . . Uncle Arthur, that is not 
 Business, really I " 
 
 " It was merely a note," said Mr. Gibbs. 
 
 " Will you read it, and tell me whether, judging 
 by your knowledge of Charles' mother, she will 
 reject it with contumely, or otherwise? I hardly 
 dared approach her, till I had approached you 
 first." 
 
 Mr. Gibbs took the letter-pages from her hands, 
 and read them. Till he read, he had barely taken it 
 seriously, but he saw that it was serious enough. 
 It was also evidently written for other eyes than 
 Violet's, and very concisely and cautiously expressed. 
 In his many musings on the subject, he had even 
 arrived at the consideration of exactly this kind of 
 post, as the ideal for his vacillating young dog of a 
 
312 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 stepson. It was really a Heaven-sent opportunity. 
 He could picture his wife's excitement and relief. 
 
 " Of course I don't follow'all he means about the 
 money," said Violet, " I know Father had to make 
 a silver path for me: so I have no doubt somebody 
 would have to make a gold one for Charles — since 
 men are more expensive. Who, I cannot imagine — 
 unless you. Have the peas paid you well, this 
 season, Uncle Arthur *?" 
 
 They chaffed over that a little more, and then 
 Violet returned to her large chair again: for her 
 uncle evidently meant to keep the letter for the 
 moment. 
 
 "And you can recommend him^ " he said pres- 
 ently, from a distance. " That is clearly an essential 
 as you say." 
 
 " Confidently," said Violet. " Charles is just the 
 kind of person Mr. Warden needs about. He is 
 much the same type, you know. When Charles has 
 stopped being a baby, he will become a delightful 
 old man." 
 
 "Nothing between?" said the Rector. 
 
 " Nothing, I fear. A first and second childhood, 
 that is all." 
 
 Mr. Gibbs walked about a little more, folding the 
 sheets up very small while he reflected. Then he 
 threw them at Violet, and said : 
 
 " Go and talk to your aunt. It will take a load 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 313 
 
 from her mind if you bring it off. I had intended 
 to give him two hundred a year, the same as his 
 sisters will have, from Christmas next. An advance 
 presents no difficulty, and he has something of his 
 own. Get along with you : and mention that." 
 
 " Must I go? " said Violet. " Between ourselves, 
 I am still rather nervous of your wife at intervals. 
 It is stupid, but — it is an interval now. . . . 
 Don't you think, if I wait a little, the chances are 
 she will come in here? " 
 
 " The chances may be," said he half smiling. In 
 these gusts of shyness, he thought, she was so like 
 Claude, — that young Claude he had once known. 
 
 " Stay where you are then, and don't chatter," he 
 directed her. " Because I am going to haul out 
 several strong boxes, in order to revise my will." 
 
 " You can't without a lawyer," said Violet, shut- 
 ting her eyes. " However, never mind. I suppose 
 you are like Father in trying, with an enormous 
 waste of labour, to dispense with the professional, 
 who exists for the sole purpose of helping you," 
 
 Her voice was drowsy, and her uncle told her to 
 go to sleep. She did sleep intermittently, thinking 
 now about Peacock, now about Margery, and now 
 about Charles. Mr. Gibbs nearly forgot her, since 
 her slight form was obscured by the spreading back 
 of the enormous chair: nearly forgot, but not com- 
 pletely. There was a certain presence in the room 
 
314 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 which he never felt unless she or Claude were about. 
 It was an inspiring presence, and favourable to good 
 work, so he worked very hard at his various occupa- 
 tions for two hours at least. 
 
 Then his wife — his present wife — startled him 
 by entering suddenly. Her movements were always 
 breezy, of the disturbing quality, for she had been 
 used to stimulating her world, even by her passage 
 through it. She was holding a letter-sheet. 
 
 " Arthur," she said, in a tone familiar to his ears 
 of suppressed and sharp-edged worry. " I am afraid 
 there is no doubt of it. Lois ought to have taken 
 my advice at once, and got rid of that girl. She 
 is at the bottom of the mischief. Charles " 
 
 " Henrietta I " He inserted her name, not loud, 
 but keenly. She started, stopped, and turned. 
 Violet was gazing at them. The dart had sped true 
 through the twilight veil of slumber that had en- 
 closed her. Horror, the sheer panic of a woodland 
 creature entrapped, was in her eyes. A minute 
 passed, a miserable minute for the Rector, and yet 
 more so for his wife, who had been perfectly unaware 
 of the girl's presence in the room. Then Mrs. Gibbs 
 opened her mouth and made a movement : but Miss 
 Ashwin was before her. She arose, springing neatly 
 erect in her manner, and blinking the sleep from 
 her eyes, came across. 
 
 " Oh, Aunt Henrietta," she said, in her sweetest 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 315 
 
 drawing-room intonation. " I mn so sorry about it. 
 I hope it is not true. Poor Charles I " 
 
 " Catch her," said Mr. Gibbs : but it was too late, 
 for the " elf " appeared. She fled like a spirit from 
 the room, and he sank, with a slight groan, into his 
 chair again. 
 
 " Oh, Arthur," said Mrs. Gibbs, " how unfortu- 
 nate I Of course, I thought you were alone." 
 
 " Don't apologise, my dear," he answered. " I 
 was to blame as well. I could have stopped you 
 sooner if I had had any sense. My senses were 
 wandering as usual. Good heavens I " 
 
 " I had no notion," she said, aggrieved, " you 
 would have kept her all this time." 
 
 " It was partly to tell you something she stayed, 
 — some news. She was waiting for you to come — 
 the blessing." His brow was in his hand. His wife 
 saw his distress, but still thought only of protesta- 
 tion and self-defence. 
 
 " I should never have worded it like that," she 
 insisted. " Of course I know she cares for her." 
 
 " And him," said the Rector. " She loves him. 
 It was a double stroke." 
 
 " What'? " said Mrs. Gibbs, struck helpless. 
 " Cares for Charles? Violet*? — You don't say so! " 
 
EXIT PEACOCK 
 
 The evidence on which Mrs. Gibbs judged her son 
 was a very hasty scrambled letter from a hotel 
 address. It said several things, among others that 
 life was not worth living, and he was unable to 
 write to Miss Ashwin. It also said he could by no 
 means come home until he knew his fate, that his 
 whole happiness for life was in question, and that 
 his mother was not to be anxious about him. The 
 present address would not find him after the follow- 
 ing day, so she was not to attempt to communicate, 
 far less to see him, or send him money. She was 
 never to send him money again, as he intended hence- 
 forth to live on his means, and work. He wished 
 her to send a card to a certain post office, contain- 
 ing two addresses, — unspeakably important. One 
 was that of a former German tutor of his in the 
 metropolis, the other the present address of that 
 dressmaker woman Miss Lennox. The people at her 
 place at Battersea, said Charles, did not seem to 
 know it, though he had been there twice about the 
 matter; and he must find it, soon. Would she tell 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 317 
 
 Miss Ashwin, most particularly, nothing about these 
 requests. 
 
 The manly guile of this communication, as has 
 been seen, did not deceive Mrs. Gibbs for a moment. 
 Why should Charles want her friend's address'? 
 Why had he been to Battersea twice, since once 
 would have assured him of Violet's absence^ Whom 
 — but one — could he have found on those premises 
 if he went? If the young woman had refused her 
 address, so much the better; but it made it the 
 more probable Charles was following her. He was 
 probably doing nothing else, nor had done since his 
 mother last beheld him. Mrs. Gibbs had the ad- 
 vantage of having seen Alice once at the Lennox 
 establishment, when Lois besought her assistance at 
 a crisis with the girl; and once had been quite 
 enough, for a person of any discernment, Mrs, 
 Gibbs had even told Lois that, mark her words, she 
 would have trouble with that girl before she had 
 done. Why, last of all, did Charles, having success- 
 fully accustomed his tongue to Violet's first name, 
 turn again to the formal Miss Ashwin? 
 
 Of course, in the light of Arthur's addition to the 
 case, Mrs. Gibbs answered the last question easily. 
 Charles had raised Violet's expectations, as careless 
 men will do; and now, having wounded her, was 
 ashamed of himself. Mrs. Gibbs had no more idea 
 than her husband at what stage of things the young 
 
3i8 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 pair were, but she could not but remember the 
 regularity and constancy of their correspondence. 
 Charles had left nobody, who had patience to listen 
 to him, in ignorance as to that. She feared to ques- 
 tion Violet, — it was altogether too delicate an affair 
 for her to touch ; but she saw the misery of the child, 
 proudly concealed as it was; and being a woman of 
 fine honour herself, felt absolutely humiliated be- 
 fore her. And she was brought still lower when the 
 proposed situation for Charles, an excellent and solid 
 advantage, resisting every test against the visionary, 
 was laid before her eyes by Mr. Gibbs. 
 
 She did not, however, for all her wrath, fail in her 
 duty towards her son, and his future. That stood 
 first, as always. She gave Charles neither of the 
 addresses he asked for; but she sent him a resume of 
 Lucas Warden's offer, and bade him, if he wanted 
 work, and had still any regard for their feelings, to 
 call on Mr. Warden at such an hour, at his office. 
 She told him his stepfather would stand his suret}^ 
 and remained his friend. She did not mention Violet 
 by name, but when the short and very adroit letter 
 to her son was completed, she brought it to the girl 
 in her room, and laid it before her mutely. Violet 
 read, and returned it with a smile. 
 
 " Is there any word you would like changed? " 
 said Mrs. Gibbs, in a voice hard with suppressed 
 emotion, and offended pride. 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 319 
 
 " It is good, and clever," said Violet slowly. " I 
 always really knew you were both — since the first 
 day I saw you, in a hayiield by the river. Do you 
 remember that? " 
 
 " Did you care for him then*? " said Mrs. Gibbs. 
 
 " Well, could anyone help it? " said Violet. 
 " He told me so touchingly," she added, looking 
 down, " all about it, and how little you appreciated 
 him." 
 
 " Did you believe it? " said Mrs. Gibbs. 
 
 " Then I did, I am afraid. Not after Uncle 
 Arthur decided to marry you. You see, I can't help 
 believing he knows better than Charles. And 
 Charles himself knows better than that," she added 
 lightly. 
 
 " He makes it hard for one to believe it," said 
 Mrs. Gibbs, and turned away. She had no wish for 
 this very " nervy " girl to see her crying, and she was 
 very proud of her self-control. But she could have 
 cursed Charles — or perhaps boxed his ears — for 
 the fool he was. She did neither, — she only signed 
 herself with affection, a trifle more than she had 
 intended, stamped and addressed the communica- 
 tion firmly, and carried it in her own hands to the 
 post. 
 
 A couple of days dragged by in sufficient depres- 
 sion, nobody in spirits to suggest any amusement, 
 
320 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 though the weather was charming; and nobody 
 among all the Rectory inmates acting at all well, 
 but Violet and Mr. Gibbs. Then a faint ray of light 
 shot upon their dulness in the form of a new line 
 from Charles, very proud and formal and foolish, 
 but thanking his mother, saying he would consider 
 her suggestion, — and would she have the kindness 
 to send him various things, in accordance with a list. 
 
 It need not be added that the contemplation of 
 this list, — most absurd and masculine in character, 
 leaving out half the things that in any kind of life, 
 bachelor or otherwise, he was bound to need, — and 
 the instant satisfaction of these natural wants, by 
 the most simple means, relieved his mother's heart 
 more than the composing of countless clever letters 
 could have done. It consoled all the foolish females 
 of the Rectory circle, to an extent that surprised the 
 Rector. Mrs. Gibbs, with Maud's skilled assistance, 
 made up the parcel, and once more carried it all the 
 way to the post herself. She promised Maud, since 
 it was heavy, to look for Peacock to take it down; 
 but excused herself later to her stepdaughters by 
 explaining that she had looked, but could not see 
 Peacock anywhere about the place. 
 
 The same evening she told the Rector after dinner, 
 — Margery being shut safely in her room at work, 
 and Violet on the sofa with a book, — that she had 
 come to the conclusion he ought to dismiss the man. 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 321 
 
 " Convince me of it and I will," said Mr. Gibbs. 
 " I should warn you he has nailed back the creepers 
 faultlessly." 
 
 Mrs. Gibbs, who never spoke without solid reasons 
 for speaking, especially in cases where prejudices 
 might be presumed to exist, produced a rather start- 
 ling piece of evidence. She had been by chance, 
 she said, at the Glasswell post office that afternoon, 
 just before post time. She had noticed, lying upon 
 the counter of the shop, a box. It had the look of a 
 common shoe-box, but it was marked carefully, 
 " Flowers." It was also carefully fastened and 
 addressed, in the same large, rather illiterate hand. 
 The address upon the box was that of a Mrs. Eccles, 
 at Brixton, — (Violet looked up), — and the post- 
 master's wife, on Mrs. Gibbs' acute enquiry, admitted 
 that Mr. Gibbs' gardener had brought it down. He 
 seemed in a hurry, she added. Mrs. Gibbs had 
 made no fuss about the box being despatched, be- 
 cause she thought — wiser not. 
 
 " Infinitely wiser," said the Rector. " Especially 
 since the contents were described so conveniently 
 upon the lid. Had the thing occurred before*? " 
 
 Never before. The woman seemed surprised 
 about it. 
 
 "Suspicions'?" said the Rector. 
 
 Not the least suspicious, no. Being Mr. Peacock, 
 the postmaster's wife was sure it was all right. 
 
322 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " There you are," said the Rector. " I wish I 
 owned an appearance like that. If I summonsed 
 him the whole country-side would be down on me 
 for libel and injustice. He has an extraordinary 
 position, socially speaking, in the neighbourhood: 
 and Shepherd is particularly keen on him. But I 
 knew," he added, " that I was being systematically 
 robbed." 
 
 " Arthur I Since when*? " 
 
 " Since yesterday morning, — wasn't it? It's one 
 of the scraps of light I owe to Violet." 
 
 Then, of course, Mrs. Gibbs had to be enlightened 
 too, and most thoroughly enlightened, for she let 
 no one off. She gazed from face to face in helpless 
 indignation and perplexity. 
 
 " And you have known of these crimes," she said 
 severely, " both of you, for two days at least, some 
 of them for weeks, months past, and have not 
 sent him packing instantly? Why, good gracious, 
 Arthur, anyone but you would have been glad of 
 the excuse I " 
 
 " Poor Uncle Arthur," Violet murmured to her 
 book. " Three prizes, — the first year." 
 
 " Have him up," said the Rector dejectedly, ad- 
 dressing Mrs. Gibbs, " and have it out. But if the 
 youngest of my family goes after him, don't blame 
 me." 
 
 Mrs. Gibbs reproached him for jesting on serious 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 323 
 
 subjects, and Mr. Gibbs replied that where every- 
 thing was equally serious, one had better jest, or be 
 direct, — it came to the same thing. Violet looked 
 at him over the back of the book, and nodded; but 
 she rose and left the room soon after, mentioning 
 that she would detain Margery upstairs. The fact 
 was, she did not want to face the man again so soon. 
 
 She need not have troubled. No search in cottage, 
 house or grounds discovered Peacock. He had saved 
 his kind-hearted employers the pain of dismissing 
 him by dismissing himself. On close enquiry, and 
 at the cost of considerable pains, Mr. Gibbs found 
 that his appearance at the post office that afternoon 
 had been his last appearance at Glasswell. How 
 he had gone, and whither, the Rector's wife spent 
 her energy and ingenuity in vain to discover. 
 
 " If you ask me," said the Rector, when the 
 search-party, including the intelligent retriever dog, 
 reunited in the study, and the leader of it sank 
 exhausted into his leather chair, " I should say he 
 went in somebody else's motor-car. He is evidently 
 above all laws. Most probably," added Mr. Gibbs, 
 turning absent and gazing at the dog, " most prob- 
 ably a rustic deity. What do )^ou say, Erasmus*? " 
 
 " Arthur, do be practical," said Mrs. Gibbs, who 
 was holding a railway guide. She had already 
 explained to him that they owed money to Peacock. 
 
 " I tell you, my dear, it's constantly happening in 
 
324 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 books nowadays. It's the commonest thing in the 
 world. I've more than once had a suspicion this 
 summer that Something was about the place. You 
 ought to see the way things grow when he looks at 
 them. Besides, there's Margery — and Erasmus 
 there — and Claude. Hang it all, he put Claude 
 out in conversation, that must mean something out 
 of the ordinary. I am beginning to be convinced — 
 well, Violet?" 
 
 " Please excuse my appearance," said Violet, just 
 to warn them : and it was necessary. 
 
 She had appeared, or materialised in her manner, 
 from the upper quarters of the house : and, while her 
 uncle was speaking, had slipped round the door. 
 She had not descended during the interval of the 
 search for Peacock, having pressing engagements of 
 her own above, though she had heard about the 
 matter through Maud. Violet herself had been in 
 seclusion with Margery, — very much in seclusion as 
 was evident. Her dark hair, lately brushed, was 
 parted and tied back loosely, drooping a little more 
 than its custom was, about her face; and she was 
 " clothed in white samite," — or in something her 
 uncle thought must approach to it, — mystic and 
 wonderful beyond a doubt, but certainly a trifle 
 unconventional as well. Both the Rector and his 
 wife fixed her with attention and amusement, for 
 she was clearly strung high in her manner, and her 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 325 
 
 eyes, glimmering star-like in. her pale face, promised 
 a new discovery. 
 
 It had occurred to Violet, so she explained to the 
 world, that in the matter of Peacock, Margery might 
 know something, if one could anyhow manage to get 
 hold of it. 
 
 " And one did*? " said Mr. Gibbs. 
 
 " This," said Violet, extending a scrap of paper. 
 Margery found it this afternoon, tucked into a corner 
 of her portfolio, which she had left on the garden 
 seat. Margery would not come down herself, — 
 being tired, — but Violet, after certain persuasions 
 which had lasted the entire length of hairdressing, 
 had been allowed to bring it for the family's en- 
 lightenment. 
 
 " It is too touching," she added earnestly. 
 
 The Rector took the scrap, his comical brows set, 
 arranged his spectacles upon his nose, and spread 
 the communication on the table by the lamp to 
 decipher at ease. It was not ill-written, betraying 
 the man's turn for order and cleanliness in all he 
 attempted. Mr. Gibbs read it in his most impressive 
 tone aloud, his niece and his daughter leaning over, 
 to either side. 
 
 " Miss Gibbs, 
 
 " This with my respects to you and family 
 and with thanks for kind treatment which is not 
 
326 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 why I go. (' I am glad of that,' said the Rector.) 
 I meant to speak to yr Father about my trouble 
 which is wearing me, and then to you Miss, but 
 words failed me short. ('So they invariably did, 
 poor fellow,' said the Rector.) Church nor absence 
 has done me any good from her as I hope you 
 understand. ('I hope Margery understood,' said 
 the Rector. ' It's as clear as daylight,' said Violet. 
 ' Only a word left out.') I hope to be at Park 
 Flower Show Tuesday week. ('Is that a rendez- 
 vous'? ' said the Rector. ' An insurmountable en- 
 thusiasm,' said Violet. * Do stop talking and finish 
 it,' said Mrs. Gibbs.) One of the smaller pictures 
 would be an agreeable keepsake — (a gale of 
 laughter from the family : ' Oh, hush,' with an 
 anxious frown, from Violet) — which knowing your 
 goodness Miss I have slipped out. Mr. Gibbs should 
 know as I have nipped those winter pots steady — 
 (' Nipped? ' said Mrs. Gibbs suspiciously. ' That's 
 all right,' said the Rector.) — to keep back some for 
 late which I have Chalked. 
 
 " Respectfully yours ever, 
 "Abel Vane-Peacock." 
 
 " I suppose the end is as luminous to Uncle 
 Arthur," said Violet, " as the first part is to Maud 
 and me. I am certain Peacock nipped and slipped 
 honestly, whatever he nipped and slipped, and is a 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 327 
 
 much injured man. I have seldom felt so certain 
 of anything." 
 
 " Indeed," said the Rector. " And what does 
 Margery feel ? " 
 
 " Well, at least, Papa," Maud spoke up in turn, 
 " she sends this down to you." 
 
 " To be laughed at," appended Violet tragically. 
 " Perfectly heroic, I thought it, and I told her so." 
 She put an arm around Maud, to encourage her to 
 resistance. 
 
 " She will be happier now," said Maud, blushing. 
 " I told her she only needed to confess to herself 
 quite alone, and have things clear. She has never 
 got things clear. That was why she had Violet's 
 room, and Violet came to me." 
 
 "What^" cried the mistress of the house. 
 
 " Keep these matters to yourselves, my maidens, 
 I advise," said the Rector. " Speak them not to 
 the profane. They are far beyond me, anyhow. 
 You are welcome to make a ring about Margery, 
 to lecture and manage her to your blessed hearts' 
 content, and flutter about in your silk sacks by 
 night " 
 
 " Sacks, indeed ! " said his daughter, really moved. 
 " How can you. Papa ! A lovely thing like this, 
 which she made with her own hands! You don't 
 deserve to have it under your eyes." 
 
 "I do, I do," said the Reclftr. "It is my avun- 
 
328 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 cular perquisites. I am onlyijDeing thankful no 
 younger gentleman is about to dispute the privilege." 
 
 " Oh, but of course " began Violet, horri- 
 fied: then caught his eye, and dissolved into space, 
 according to her late habit, suddenly. 
 
 " Violet has no business to give up her room," said 
 Mrs. Gibbs, when she had vanished. " I wonder you 
 allowed it, Maud. I don't know what her father 
 would think of us, if he knew. He asked for her to 
 be quiet, particularly." 
 
 " I am sorry, Mamma," said Maud, lifting her 
 chin. " I would not have deceived you unless it had 
 been necessary. But to be wished out of the way 
 continually, by my only sister, for weeks together, 
 was more than I could bear. I have prayed for 
 patience, and so I daresay has she, — but we certainly 
 should have quarrelled soon. Violet and I had the 
 idea at exactly the same minute " 
 
 " Just so, donkey," said her father. " Go to bed." 
 
 When she had gone in her turn, Mrs. Gibbs 
 observed that perhaps it was time that the girls had 
 separate rooms: and the Rector said that she had 
 anticipated him. 
 
MISS ASHWIN IS LAZY 
 
 News grew worse from the Bradings. Lady Brad- 
 ing, Dr. Ashwin wrote, was very ill as well. Her 
 nerves had given way, too soon, under the prolonged 
 strain, during which her courage had been an object 
 of admiration to all her surroundings. Clouds 
 settled low over the devoted family. The letter 
 the doctor sent was brief by necessity, and divided 
 about equally between Violet and her uncle. 
 
 " That poor boy," said the Rector gravely over 
 his part. " Yes, I must go up." 
 
 That was the suggestion, it seemed, the letter 
 contained. 
 
 " Are there no other children'? " said Mrs. Gibbs. 
 
 "No: he's unique, like Violet; and he adores his 
 mother. Claude says they could not have done with- 
 out him these last days, — which speaks for itself." 
 
 The young people were silent, respectful before 
 tragedy. Violet's brow was resting on her hand, 
 and Margery, rather faded and worn, was gazing 
 with set lips out upon the garden. 
 
 " Nothing to add. Miss*? " the Rector addressed 
 
330 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 his niece, seeing the sheet she held. " Professional 
 details, I mean, of course." 
 
 Violet shook her head. " It's all very private," 
 she said quietly. 
 
 " I retire," said the Rector: and soon after, did so. 
 
 Violet remained exaggeratedly grave, as she 
 patted her letters together. She had quite a little 
 pile of them, as was not unusual; for her father 
 wrote to her regularly, as well as other less important 
 gentlemen of his age, and various girl-friends. 
 Violet kept her friends on paper, howsoever she hid 
 herself in life. 
 
 After breakfast she took them away to a remote 
 summer-house, where she was joined after an in- 
 terval by Maud, two work-baskets, and Erasmus the 
 black retriever, who was getting on in life, and 
 showed a marked preference for Maud's reposeful 
 company. 
 
 " He misses Peacock," said Maud, introducing 
 Erasmus, " I washed him yesterday. Do you 
 mind?" 
 
 Violet, absently smiling at Erasmus, did not mind. 
 " I miss Peacock too," she said. " I am sorry to tell 
 you, Maud, that the earwigs are starting again in 
 this pavilion." 
 
 " Would you rather sit somewhere else, darling? " 
 said Maud anxiously. 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 331 
 
 " No," said Violet. " Earwigs are as nothing to 
 me, now." 
 
 This certainly suggested dark things in store. 
 So did the fact that she sat empty-handed, and did 
 not touch her work; but Maud knew her too well 
 to press her. She prepared her own work, with 
 competent rapidity, while Erasmus settled on Violet's 
 feet with a groan. Then Maud threaded a needle, 
 and opened the conversation. 
 
 " To-morrow," said Maud briskly, " will be the 
 crisis." 
 
 "Which crisis, darling^" said Violet. "There 
 are several." 
 
 " I am afraid I was selfish," said Maud. " Speak- 
 ing of Peacock reminded me. I was thinking of ours. 
 As soon as I set eyes on that letter, I said to myself 
 — well, once get over the day of the Flower Show 
 safely, and we are all right. You may have noticed 
 how restless she is." 
 
 " Margery^ " 
 
 " Margery. Well, that is the Flower Show im- 
 pending. Did you happen to see her face when 
 Papa offered anybody his member's ticket for it last 
 Saturday^ I wanted to say, — take it, child, for 
 goodness' sake, and go and see him and get it over. 
 I am afraid, Violet, her character is not really 
 strong." 
 
 " How wonderfully clever you are, Maud," said 
 
332 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 Violet. Maud was silent. She thought at times 
 herself that she was not so dull as people supposed; 
 and she never felt so sure of it as in her cousin's 
 company. 
 
 " I am under the impression," said Violet, still 
 vague, " that your Father sent the ticket away to 
 somebody," 
 
 "He sent it to that Miss Eccles," said Maud, 
 *' because he has never forgotten that remark of 
 yours that she was fond of flowers. He thought it 
 might be a change, he said." 
 
 "Oh dear, how like him," said Violet. "And 
 what a wonderful family you are." 
 
 It was most satisfactory to Maud's ears as a senti- 
 ment, only the tone was " sleep-walking," and the 
 real Violet was evidently miles away. Maud knew 
 that she might be allowed to approach in time, if she 
 took it easily, and talked of her own affairs mean- 
 while. 
 
 " Of course, Margery could get in all the same 
 for five shillings," said Maud, threading her second 
 needle. " Or possibly half a crown. I do trust, 
 Violet, it will be all right ; but at this stage I dare 
 not prompt her. I incline to leave it to nature. I 
 believe her better self is slowly coming to the front." 
 
 " Erasmus, love," said Violet, " if it is not incon- 
 veniencing 5^ou too greatly, that foot is asleep." 
 
 "Kick him," said Maud briefly. "He never 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 333 
 
 understands without. Dear," she added, " I am 
 afraid you are bothered to-day. Don't stop in here 
 if you want to walk about." For she knew Violet's 
 mental and physical habits, and how they reacted 
 on one another. 
 
 " I am practising Repose," said Violet, folding 
 her hands. " But I fear I shall never manage it as 
 well as you, Maud. You do me more good than you 
 know, — even the way you do your hair behind is 
 calming. The fact is," she proceeded soon, " I have 
 had troubling news from the outer world to-day. I 
 wish Father could get down to Dering. I do wish 
 it frightfully. Father must be absolutely on the 
 Rack." 
 
 "Violet! " said Maud, appalled. "Is it as bad 
 as that? " 
 
 " I don't want you to think me high-strung and 
 sensational," said Violet, looking both, " so I will 
 offer you bits out of Joan Dering's letter. Joan is 
 not a girl who writes unless absolutely driven to it. 
 So I suspect Bill or somebody has set her on to drag 
 facts out of me. They are all so curious about our 
 circumstances, always." 
 
 Maud was impressed by this familiar talk of a 
 great house. She was also gratified that such people 
 should be curious about the Ashwins. The Ashwins 
 really were a very remarkable family, and Maud 
 had the blood in her veins. 
 
334 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 Violet's comments now on the style of the com- 
 munication she held were inclined to the critical, 
 and evidently Lady Joan, for all her governesses, 
 could not spell. The news, however, such as it was, 
 seemed sinister; and it made Miss Gibbs especially 
 sad that two girls of eighteen should be discussing 
 such things in their correspondence. Yet Maud was 
 a little inquisitive all the same, and rested not until 
 she had had a fair chance at the whole scandal, both 
 facts and insinuations. 
 
 It was sufficiently " frightful," as Violet said, 
 certainly, since it concerned an aunt of Maud's own. 
 Aunt Evie was also of course Violet's mother, but 
 it was hard to remember it, the girl spoke of her 
 with such cool detachment. Aunt Evie was letting a 
 French Marquis (of all people), whom she destined 
 in open drawing-room converse to her daughter, 
 make love to her in such an unguarded fashion, that 
 the schoolgirls in the house were talking about it. 
 That much was certain, whatever else was not. The 
 " whatever else," — what Violet herself would have 
 called the " sous-entendu^"" — was beyond Maud at 
 five-and-twenty altogether. She never by her own 
 choice read the books in which they occurred. She 
 was a little surprised when her father recommended 
 her such books occasionally, and had really in private 
 more confidence in the curate's advice. 
 
 Violet followed her thoughts with perfect ease, 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 335 
 
 and sedulously respected her cousin's taste in the 
 " bits " she selected. For her own part, her father 
 was her principal anxiety. Maud was in no per- 
 plexity, at least, as to Violet's feelings towards her 
 father. Having something of the same kind of hero- 
 worsl^ herself, — for all the Rector's taste in books, 
 — she was able to meet her cousin there on common 
 ground. 
 
 " I want passionately to go up to him, at inter- 
 vals," said Violet. " I wonder if Aunt Henrietta 
 would think me too awful if I did; just for a night, 
 you know, darling, to learn the worst. I could easily 
 run down again in the morning." 
 
 Maud looked grave over the project. It was just 
 in Violet's royal style, to " run " up and down, 
 journeys of sixty miles. Maud could never take the 
 easy point of view belonging to " motor people." 
 
 " I should think Uncle Claude could deal with 
 it," she said, with propriety. 
 
 " How can he, poor dear? " said Violet. " He is 
 tied hand and foot, by Lady Brading, who always 
 trusted him, and by Sir Rupert, who is literally at 
 the last gasp. He can't stir from the toils about 
 him, Maud, that is his painful position. A doctor is 
 hardly allowed to be a man. And yet he is bound 
 to have heard of this horror, from other sources. 
 The Derings have crowds of acquaintance, and 
 people getting well of things are the most uncon- 
 
336 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 scionable gabblers of all. I really think," said Violet 
 gravely, " that Father hears all the gossip in London; 
 and though he spurns it naturally, he never for- 
 gets a word. That is the way he is constituted. In 
 this case he has no escape from torture, that I can 
 perceive." 
 
 Grave silence again. Maud was hardly up to 
 Violet's level, in this kind of catastrophe; she pre- 
 ferred the less startling case of Margery. But, since 
 Violet could always find words for everything, she 
 let her talk, for that she knew was good for her. 
 Also, Maud was curious still. 
 
 " Of course Father is virtually living with the 
 Bradings," said Violet. " The servants were to have 
 got off on Friday. Our house may be shut for all 
 I know, — he neglects to mention it. He says the 
 end cannot be far now, and I shall have a wire 
 without fail, or if too late and the office shut, a 
 scrawl. I stipulated that naturally, thinking of 
 Margery. Father is quite aware of the immense 
 importance, to her. . . . But even then, the 
 poor woman would be on his hands : unless she would 
 accept Mr. Forrest. He says she is hardly reason- 
 able — Heaven knows. Perhaps when everybody 
 about you is in Purgatory, you hardly feel your own. 
 I should of course, but Father has a finer mind." 
 
 Violet was evidently low to-day, Maud was re- 
 flecting as she sewed. 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 337 
 
 " It must console him to be doing good," she said. 
 She felt she was on her own ground here. 
 
 " It wouldn't me, the least," said Violet. " How- 
 ever." 
 
 She gazed down at Erasmus desolately. Her 
 other foot was now asleep, but it seemed a pity to 
 disturb such a sheer revel of repose as that to which 
 the retriever's attitude bore witness. Life is hard 
 on all of us, and Erasmus was mourning Peacock, 
 his true friend. Also he was old, and age has its 
 privileges. Violet sighed, and suffered him. 
 
 " You could not go home for a night," observed 
 Maud, " if the servants are all away. And the 
 Bradings could not have you, naturally." 
 
 " No," said Violet. The impulsive plan seemed to 
 have evaporated already, and she was gazing at the 
 sky. " You cannot, however, keep me for ever here, 
 delightful as you are, and exquisite as it is. The 
 roar of the great City summons me. Miss Lennox is 
 coming back from Ramsgate. I must plunge again 
 soon," 
 
 " Darling," said Maud, stopping work for the first 
 time. " You know you are not half rested, really. 
 You will over-do things, wherever you are, so much." 
 
 " I am learning not to," returned Violet. " Have 
 patience with my natural infirmities, Maud, The 
 business, I am certain, will be all right, whatever 
 else crashes about me. I am perfectly reassured 
 
338 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 as to the status of Lennoxes. And that is my object 
 in life at present." 
 
 " Don't be absurd," said Maud. 
 
 " My solitary object. In my best moods," said 
 Violet, still gazing at the sky, " I think of nothing 
 else." 
 
 "I am glad I know you in your worst moods, 
 then." 
 
 After that, silence supervened ; and Maud's watch 
 alone could say at what late period of the morning 
 it was broken again, Erasmus was kicked off three 
 times, and each time settled anew, for Violet's little 
 shoe as a pillow suited him. 
 
 " Maud," said a sleep-walking voice at last. 
 
 " Violet." 
 
 " I have just discovered, I have not run a single 
 tuck in that white thing over there. And I promised 
 Alice, as I value her friendship, to accomplish thirty- 
 seven." 
 
 " That is what I alluded to," said Maud, thread- 
 ing another needle, " about an hour and a quarter 
 ago. I like you best when you are lazy. Mother 
 was heavenly when she was lazy too. Some people 
 can't be, for their lives. I begin to feel a perfect 
 idiot, if I sit for ten minutes idle. You were made 
 for a lady of leisure, Violet." 
 
 " I scorn your insinuations," said Violet, " and 
 throw that last insult in your teeth. Give me that 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 339 
 
 basket, dear, if you can reach. No^ Erasmus, the 
 lingering agony is too awful. I can't bear it, — I 
 will not bear it any longer, — go! Oh, Maud, 
 console him, — kiss his beautiful head, — he is 
 offended!" 
 
VI 
 
 ROUT OF THE SCHEMERS 
 
 Mr. Gibbs went up to town the same afternoon, and, 
 finding himself wanted, stayed there. Dr. Ashwin's 
 telegram was despatched that night, but failed to 
 get through, no doubt by the fault of the messenger. 
 It was brought up the next morning after breakfast 
 by a boy from Glasswell, and punctually followed 
 by a short note, — what Violet designated a scrawl 
 — by the second post at midday. 
 
 The despatch said, " Brading died six this evening 
 she is holding up, Father." The scrawl, stamped 
 with the Brading address, said — 
 
 " My Dear Child, 
 
 " Tell your hostess and such as it may concern 
 that all is over, and better than we had feared. He 
 was unconscious an hour before the end, and I could 
 allow her to be with him. The certainty seems to 
 soothe her, as I had trusted. The life was fine if 
 short, strictly devoted to the public good, the martyr- 
 dom an injustice you can ask your uncle to defend. 
 I stay for the funeral, of course, — no nonsense about 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 341 
 
 joining me. Robert is overwhelmed by necessary 
 details naturally, but he will make time to come 
 over. He is armed against fate, he tells me. Let 
 her know." 
 
 "Where is she^ " asked Violet, having read it 
 eagerly through. " Maud, where has Margery 
 gone?" 
 
 That was what nobody could tell her: for Mar- 
 gery had gone wandering, urged by the startling spur 
 of the first telegram. Margery had a ticket for 
 the Flower Show in her little satchel, acquired by 
 methods of cunning and concealment quite foreign 
 to her simple nature, and in her liberal environment, 
 quite unnecessary. By sudden rushes, like a devas- 
 tating wind from deserts that man cannot track, the 
 need to see Abel Peacock swept across her. She 
 repeated that she was in the hands of God, but it 
 was a very earthly demon that had mastered her. 
 She believed, — she repeated that she believed, — 
 that Abel had meant, in that extraordinary note he 
 left which she would not destroy, though Violet 
 besought her to do so, — that she should meet him. 
 She believed — Heaven knows what she believed, or 
 had persuaded herself to accept as life and truth. 
 Her imagination, seconding her passions, was proving 
 itself capable of things Margery herself could never 
 have conceived. She feared herself, not, like Violet, 
 
342 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 because she knew herself too well, but because she 
 had never really sought self-knowledge. Her elder 
 sister, who knew her as sisters do, was right enough 
 there. The fact, had she ever faced it, was simple 
 enough. She was basely in love with a beautiful 
 animal, and many have been likewise: men very 
 openly and exultantly, and women in secret, and 
 tormented. 
 
 For Margery knew far better, of course, all the 
 time. Her mother's education, her father's example, 
 both supplementing a naturally able brain, genuine 
 if limited experience of life among her poor folk in 
 the Glasswell neighbourhood, even a sense of the 
 ludicrous, an intermittent wild power of mockery 
 of herself, was not wanting to assist her. She was 
 far from certain she meant to go to London, even 
 now. She dreaded, with desperate shyness, the star- 
 ing of familiar faces on the road, the necessity of 
 placing herself in a public train; but still dreading, 
 detesting, and shrinking, she took a morning walk 
 through the woods, — in the direction of Glasswell 
 station. 
 
 It was a long way, even by the short cut ; and the 
 path went plunging among copses, each one dear and 
 peculiar to Margery's country-loving heart, full of 
 images and of memories. She waited several times, 
 for she had started early, as she was accustomed to 
 do for painting, to avoid remark, and had even taken 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 343 
 
 the precaution to hide the painting apparatus before 
 she set out. She had covered her trail, in short, like 
 any criminal. The periods of waiting tried her far 
 more than active movement did; she sat by the 
 way on banks or stiles, her lips compressed into an 
 obstinate wretched line, her thoughts following the 
 same fixed round, feverish and unresting. They 
 were fixed forward, though, those thoughts; it had 
 not occurred to her once, being used to freedom like 
 the air, that she could be followed. 
 
 Violet and Maud, having hastily scoured all her 
 favourite haunts, exchanged a look, Maud's almost 
 of triumph, Violet's of despair. 
 
 " She has done it," said Maud. 
 
 " I will not believe it," said Violet. " You should 
 not say such things of your sister. She has gone for 
 a walk, do you hear*? — because she had a nasty 
 headache; and I am going after her, with salts." 
 
 " It's too late," said Maud. " The London train 
 is eleven-fifty." 
 
 " I put not my trust in time-tables," said Violet. 
 " I put it in Margery. Explain to your Mother 
 about lunch." And she went. 
 
 She went very swiftly, agile-footed, slipping 
 through the light and shadow of the woods. She 
 had walked the way with Margery before, and had 
 no doubts which of the many winding paths to 
 choose; for of course, notwithstanding her perfect 
 
344 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 faith in her cousin, the line of the station was her 
 general direction. She met nobody, so could obtain 
 no reassurance, one way or the other. Once, in the 
 open, she caught the white puff of a train among the 
 distant woods, and had a momentary pang, a shock 
 of doubt, as bad as Maud's and worse, — since all 
 such things were worse to Violet. Was that the 
 train Margery had taken*? Had she really suc- 
 cumbed to this ignoble enchantment, and gone to 
 what must be her shame: a memorable, lifelong 
 humiliation*? Would he not laugh, in that intoler- 
 able manner, when he met her face to face, as he 
 had laughed upon the roof? Poor, pretty Margery, 
 — Violet could not suffer for a moment the picture 
 of that laughter. It was simply not to be borne, 
 and turned her sick with sympathy, so that she 
 staggered and stopped. 
 
 That particular train, as it happened, came from 
 the opposite direction: but Violet overlooked such 
 a trifle in her tragic communing. It was the down 
 train from London, running into Glasswell station, 
 that she saw; it came in at least twenty minutes 
 before the other to the town. 
 
 At last she drew to the end of the woods, and 
 knew by the signs that, just round the next turn 
 and beyond the trees, the dull route of the plains 
 was before her. The unshaded road was ugly, and 
 very hot, and, unwilling even to look upon it, Miss 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 345 
 
 Ashwin stopped uncertainly, spurring herself to the 
 moral and physical necessity. That road led, in ten 
 or twelve minutes, straight to the station, the station 
 where Margery had not gone. Was it conceivable 
 that she had gone there? Could any girl, kin of 
 hers, have been so crazy as to have gone one step 
 further than this*? 
 
 Margery, half an hour before her on this track, 
 had not been so crazy. That is to say, she had gone 
 some fifty steps nearer to the brink, round the next 
 turning, and winced in fact, as Violet had done in 
 imagination, at the sight of the imminent high-road. 
 It forced her to pause, and exactly at the spot where 
 she paused, as her cousin had hoped, her craziness 
 had ceased, quite suddenly. 
 
 For while she waited there, debating furiously in 
 her mind, and watching the framed white glare of 
 the valley with distaste, a distant figure, looking 
 very dark against the spinning sunlight of midday, 
 had entered the frame, coming in the opposite direc- 
 tion up the road, and towards Margery. It came 
 along with an easy step, but slowly, for the long 
 climb lay before; and, besides, to one lately tied to 
 London streets, and penned in sick-rooms, through 
 the most torrid months of the year, the first shock 
 of the woodland solitude was sweet. 
 
 Robert did not see her immediately, where she 
 stood beyond him in the shadow of the trees. His 
 
346 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 eyes, tired with watching, were dazzled in addition 
 by the white glare of the roads. He came on, beauti- 
 fully unconscious, looking downward, one hand in 
 his pocket, the other clenching and unclenching 
 at his side, as though he were pursuing painful 
 thoughts. 
 
 The girl stood stiffly, motionless and mute, unable 
 even to conceive what he must think of her, when 
 he saw. For it was borne in upon Margery that a 
 man with eyes like that, straight from the grim 
 battlefield of life and death, must surely penetrate 
 the truth when they were face to face. Robert was 
 close on her, before he glanced up. Then he stopped, 
 awed. 
 
 " Margery I " he exclaimed, forgetting all de- 
 corum. " And you came down to meet me*? " 
 
 The clearing of his exhausted face was wonderful 
 to see. The black band on his brown sleeve had 
 become visible. 
 
 For which reasons, no doubt, the Rector's daughter 
 who saw it threw self-respect, sincerity, her hope 
 of ultimate redemption, and all such evanescent 
 trifles to the winds, and answered, — " Yes, Bob." 
 Nor did it occur to Margery for perhaps some six 
 months afterwards, that she had basely lied. And 
 then it was too late to apologize. 
 
 A good deal later the pair came on together up 
 the path, in one of love's unstudied attitudes, which 
 
FOREIGN ADxMINISTRATIONS 347 
 
 take for granted the admiration of the world. But 
 so incredibly tactless are the hours of trains, the 
 windings of woodland walks, and the sweet delays 
 of lovers, that they chanced upon Miss Ashwin in 
 a place where, with the best will in the world, she 
 could not possibly conceal herself. She sat perched 
 where she was by the way, and took in their appear- 
 ance with amazement, rapidly growing to despair. 
 Of all damning and reproachful visions to fall upon 
 the view of a scheming cousin! Of all impossible 
 situations for a person of nice taste I 
 
 No Ashwin had ever, ever done such a flagrantly 
 immodest thing before. Of course, poor darling 
 injured Margery had had private information of her 
 own, and walked to the station to meet him, telling 
 nobody. Exactly, entirely, what Violet would have 
 done herself, what any nice-natured girl, in any 
 society, would have been bound to do. And Maud 
 and she, near relatives, to have such slavish sus- 
 picions ! 
 
 Dropping her head, and laying the fingers of one 
 hand tightl)^ across her eyes, Violet waved them on 
 with the other, imperiously as a queen. 
 
 " It's long past lunch-time," she said, " and I am 
 lost. I have been lost for hours past, — indiscover- 
 able. Take her home, Mr. Brading, — Sir Robert, — 
 immediately." 
 
 " Why, there's Violet," said Margery, waking to 
 
348 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 the amazing discovery. It was just as though she 
 had not seen her cousin for months. " Violet, dear, 
 how ridiculous I " 
 
 " Not at all," said Violet desperately. " Some 
 other girl. One who is sworn, here and now and 
 forever more, against vulgar meddling. Considera- 
 tion, Sir Robert, I expect at least from you. I adjure 
 you, tact I Take her on, for mercy's sake, and for- 
 get about me." 
 
 Bob had gathered something from Margery on the 
 way up, and had also possibly, during the dragging 
 leisure of long days past, talked to his mother's 
 doctor. Under direction or not, he left Margery, 
 and came up to where Violet was sitting on a stone, 
 her eyes concealed, a drooping, dejected statue of 
 humiliation. The fallen leaves were soft all round 
 the stone, and Robert .trod lightly, as though that 
 had been part of the wordless direction he had 
 received. He was very near to the little statue before 
 he spoke. 
 
 " I am under an eternal burden of obligation 
 to your family. Miss Ashwin," he said quietly, 
 " doubled now. I have no earthly excuse but happi- 
 ness for this proceeding. Do you mind*? " 
 
 Violet did not mind. She awoke to life, though, 
 to discover suddenly what a pleasant thing a brother 
 was. Also, she had alwa)'S thought him delightful, 
 if a trifle obvious in dialogue. He must be ex- 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 349 
 
 traordinarily moved out of his calm self to embrace 
 her, but that was right. Their behaviour on both 
 sides was eminently right, except that they refused to 
 walk ahead, and let her follow, as she attempted to 
 do, to pick up the things they dropped. Margery, 
 both of whose hands were engaged, had already 
 dropped her bag three times, as Robert might have 
 seen for himself, if he had once looked round. Violet 
 returned it to her patiently, observing that it was 
 clear she attached no value to anything it contained. 
 And yet, if Violet had had the curiosity to look 
 inside the receptacle, she would have found a five- 
 shilling ticket for the Flower Show, opening that 
 very day in a certain park, at twelve o'clock; and 
 five shillings must represent a certain degree of 
 importance, to a thrifty clergyman's daughter like 
 Margery Gibbs. 
 
 Bob did not stay even for luncheon, late as it v/as 
 when they finally reached the Rector}\ He simply 
 shook hands with Mrs. Gibbs, told her, in what 
 Charles would have found the most unimaginative 
 terms, that his mother was better, and Margery had 
 made him a happy man, borrowed the Rector's 
 bicycle, and flew back by train to town. But when 
 the Rector, having resumed his bicycle at the station, 
 arrived at home very tired that same night, he had 
 already heard the news. 
 
350 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 He spent most of the evening with Margery on 
 his knee, and, as she was still the baby of the home, 
 they were very foolish together. Also, as frequently 
 happens with other babies, she ended by crying, 
 and that at a very small provocation. He merely 
 enquired, when he was dismissing her to bed, if she 
 was going to sleep with her sister to-night, and be 
 a good girl. 
 
 " No," sobbed Margery. " They will not Met 
 me. They have turned me out, — for good I " And, 
 still sobbing, she retired to a night of restless bliss in 
 Violet's room. 
 
 The Rector, having got rid of all the children, 
 relieved himself by a prolonged silence. Then, 
 recollecting himself, he told his wife, for her relief, 
 that he had found time to see Warden, but not 
 Charles. He had made, indeed, no attempt to see 
 Charles, for he believed, at the present stage, it 
 would have been unfruitful. Claude had given him 
 a personal introduction to Warden, who was a very 
 pleasant fellow, and had told him a number of 
 things he wanted to know. Charles, it seemed, was 
 attending regularly at the office, and behaving sur- 
 prisingly well. Where and how he was living, Mr. 
 Warden could not say, for the card Charles had 
 offered him had only the Glasswell address upon it; 
 but he looked — the Rector gathered from Warden's 
 observations — well fed and respectable. During 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 351 
 
 the production of these details Mrs. Gibbs' hands, 
 wreathed with her knitting-wool, lay in her lap. 
 When she had heard the last, she resumed her work 
 without replying. 
 
 " Has Violet yet heard from the girl'? " the Rector 
 asked. 
 
 " No," said his wife. 
 
 "Humph I " said the Rector: and considered for 
 a space with knitted brow. 
 
 " Perhaps Charles is living with the girl," said 
 Mrs, Gibbs, who had the strong-minded quality of 
 seizing the bull by the horns. 
 
 The Rector imagined not. She was a beautiful 
 girl, but, he considered, not that sort at all. Also, 
 Claude had scoffed at the idea. 
 
 " Well," said Mrs. Gibbs, " he ought to know." 
 
 " He's a fair judge of character," said the Rector, 
 who plumed himself on the same quality. 
 
 " That is not what I meant, Arthur." 
 
 " No, my dear : you meant, that he had a notorious 
 wife." 
 
 Finding him thus capable of dealing with bulls as 
 well, she looked a little out of countenance, for she 
 had collected some of the Bering girl's gossip through 
 Maud. 
 
 " Did your brother talk about that? " she said. 
 
 "Claude? OfEveleen? Tome? Good heavens, 
 no. I am the other party, — have always been it. 
 
352 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 You would say she was the ordinary perfection, the 
 way he talks of her." He waited for a period. 
 " One little thing struck me though, Henrietta. He 
 is anxious for me to get Violet to send him on her 
 letters. That suggests he is short of news himself." 
 
 " Oh," said Mrs. Gibbs, " Violet says her mother 
 never writes. The maid has answered his letters 
 before now. A prepaid telegram is the most she will 
 regard, and having to regard it makes her furious." 
 
 " Good God," said the Rector, very feelingly, 
 " what a position for a man I But I can assure you, 
 nobody would think it. He does not avoid the 
 subject even, at least perceptibly. He is desperately 
 proud — like her." 
 
 " Like Violet? " 
 
 "Like Margaret; Violet is the same, though, as 
 her late proceedings- testify. I greatly fear that 
 child is suffering, Henrietta: and I dared say no 
 word to Claude, distracted as he is. If he jfinds her 
 worn out, we shall catch it. It is a tolerable re- 
 sponsibility, as I told him; but he won't have her 
 back now until the Dering party breaks up. So I 
 promised to put up with her, for his sake." 
 
 " That's all right," said Mrs. Gibbs, frowning 
 over a knot in her knitting. 
 
 " Sure? " said the Rector. 
 
 " Quite." She glanced at him. " Don't be ab- 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 353 
 
 surd, Arthur. I have told you more than once, I 
 like the child. There's more in her than you'd think. 
 Is her father going to Bering after all, then"? " 
 
 " Like an arrow from the bow, the day after the 
 funeral. And brings Mrs. Claude back, according 
 to himself, within the week." 
 
 " Well," said Mrs. Gibbs, " I trust he may, that's 
 all." 
 
 " I have no doubt he will," returned the Rector. 
 " And if it comes to a duel, he will kill the French- 
 man, But he will never kill her, nor himself. He 
 has too clear a sense of duty." 
 
 "Really, Arthur!" said Mrs. Gibbs. Arthur's 
 way of regarding things made her hopeless at times, 
 and he was terribly biased in life by his enthusiasms. 
 However, it was evident he had reached on his own 
 account more of the scandal than she had to offer 
 him; so she was too wise to attempt to supple- 
 ment. 
 
 " I have forgotten the Eccles number again," he 
 observed to her after a long, and apparently drowsy 
 interval. 
 
 " I wrote it in your book," said Mrs. Gibbs. 
 " What do you want it for'? " 
 
 She looked at him with quick suspicion, thinking 
 of Charles. He did not even perceive the suspicion. 
 
 " I must write a line," he said, his kind eyes 
 
354 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 watching the fire. " Turning things over lately, in 
 the train, it struck me I had done a thoroughly 
 blundering thing." 
 
 " What now ? " said his wife patiently. 
 
 The Rector explained, as though he had been 
 seized red-handed in crime, that he had sent his 
 Flower Show ticket to the girl Eccles on an impulse, 
 and had quite forgotten the probable chance of her 
 happening upon Peacock if she went. She must, of 
 course, have fathomed their connection with Peacock 
 by now, by means of the flower-box. Miss Eccles, a 
 sharp girl, would naturally think Charles' guardian 
 had done it on purpose, which, the guardian being 
 the Rector, he had not. Mr. Gibbs was very de- 
 pressed about it. He would not be considered a 
 scheming party, by a pretty maiden; he would sooner 
 be thought a fool. 
 
 "Really, Arthur!" exclaimed Mrs. Gibbs, more 
 hopelessly than ever, at this elaborate piece of 
 quixotism. 
 
 But she let him go his way, and even brought him 
 paper to write his " line." She told herself that he 
 treated Alice as carefully as if she were a member of 
 his family already; but she had long since learned 
 not to speak all her thoughts, and was conscious 
 even of a weak inclination to humour Arthur's 
 follies, at times. In her hard experience of man, 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 355 
 
 such innocuous follies as he owned were almost a 
 luxury to deal with. 
 
 But this little stroke of playful consideration, on 
 the part of a father who owned girls, had the effect 
 far more elaborate scheming might have failed to 
 have, — that of unlocking Alice. She and Violet, 
 both on their maiden dignities, had exchanged no 
 word since the crisis. But she sent a line, with the 
 ticket she returned, to the Rector. 
 
 " Dear Mr. Gibbs, 
 
 " I never thought of such a thing. I am doing 
 what I can. 
 
 " With grateful thanks, yours very truly, 
 
 "A. ECCLES." 
 
 And that slight consolation, from the last quarter 
 she expected, was cradled by Charles' mother be- 
 neath her pillow the same night. 
 
VII 
 
 MRS. NICKLEBY 
 
 Charles found Alice's address eventually, of course, 
 in a manner we shall leave to the surmise of simi- 
 larly ingenious young gentlemen. After one or two 
 stormy interviews with Alice at Lennoxes, — for 
 Charles had discovered a temper as well as she, — 
 Miss Lennox herself came home from Ramsgate, 
 and that line of communication was cut off. Conse- 
 quently, Charles was driven to discover where Miss 
 Eccles lived; and having done so in the manner 
 undetailed, called on her mother. 
 
 He paid a prolonged call, since he continued to 
 hope for Alice's return from work, which did not 
 take place, and he sat through a prolonged tea- 
 drinking episode in the course of it; but, sad to 
 say, though he behaved like a graduate and a gentle- 
 man, he did not like Mrs. Eccles. 
 
 This had better be confessed at once, because no 
 sign of the feeling emerged, either in her company, 
 or later in that of her daughter; and also because 
 Mrs. Eccles, at the time and afterwards, made no 
 secret of the fact that she was in love with Mr. 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISIRATIONS 357 
 
 Shovel!. He absolutely went to her heart, his face, 
 his clothes, his accent, his innocence, and the sanctity 
 of a country Rectory that hedged him round about. 
 Mrs. Eccles adored the country, she revelled in the 
 clergy, she had grown up herself in a Vicarage, — 
 did Mr. Shovell know'? She knew far more about 
 altar-cloths, vestments, livings, buryings, — not to 
 mention Bishops, — than did Charles. She knew all 
 about Mr. Gibbs and his dear wife, who had been 
 such a friend to her and Alice. Charles explained, 
 as soon as he could insert a word in the torrent, 
 that the dear Mrs. Gibbs of Mrs. Eccles' memories 
 was long dead, and that Mr. Gibbs was only con- 
 nected quite recently with himself, by marriage. 
 But such protestations had little effect on Mrs. 
 Eccles, and her eloquence. The link with Mr. 
 Shovell, to her mind, was obvious, the gratification 
 caused by his attention in calling likewise, and she 
 needed a great deal of strong tea to carry her through 
 the emotions of the interview. 
 
 She was considerate of his feelings, too. She 
 allowed the invariable interval known to the best 
 circles, before she mentioned Alice's name, and then 
 she only wondered if Mr. Shovell had met her 
 daughter. He stammered some praises of Alice, and 
 Mrs. Eccles, filling up her tea-cup, filled out his 
 encomiums also. Alice had been "her prop, her con- 
 solation, through long and direful sufferings. Mr. 
 
358 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 Shovell could have no idea of their martyrdom, or 
 rather of her own sacrifices for Alice. She was a 
 good girl, considered good-looking by their small 
 circle in Brixton, — but what is a girl? Her own 
 health was most uncertain, her life — he might not 
 know — had already once been despaired of, and she 
 had often lain awake whole nights of anxiety, think- 
 ing of Alice's future. Mothers have silly fears on 
 the subject of their girls. Now, if she had had a 
 
 son 
 
 It is doubtful how far Mrs. Eccles would have 
 gone, if Charles had not risen to take leave. She 
 had some remnants of delicacy left, and she might 
 have refrained, in his presence, from airing that 
 ancient grievance of the baby boy who died. Yet 
 one never knows: for a life of trials and tea is 
 deteriorating, and Mrs. Eccles had never been strong- 
 minded. She was one of those poor rags of humanity 
 that set brutal or impatient witnesses thinking at 
 once of the virtues of the Spartans, and their eco- 
 nomic method of weeding out their less successful 
 offspring by means of exposure in extremest youth. 
 Such would have pronounced that Mrs. Eccles had 
 far better, for State purposes, have been so exposed, 
 and disposed of. Yet this same poor rag had pro- 
 duced the glorious young citizeness, Alice, so some- 
 thing could still be said for her. And Charles, who 
 knew about the Spartans, was telling himself that 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 359 
 
 saving truth most sedulously, the whole way down 
 the street. 
 
 The interview shook him, though, as Alice's fury 
 of scorn in defence of Violet had not shaken him; 
 for Alice was hampered by a generous spirit, and 
 she had not yet descended to what might have been 
 more workable means of hardening his heart, and 
 discouraging his pursuit of her. 
 
 Alice was hampered also, it has to be confessed, 
 by a liking for Charles. It was impossible not to 
 like him, through all his extravagance and irregu- 
 larity. He was born likeable, and especially to 
 women, and especially to women of the nobler stuff. 
 Such women rarely care for heroes, and Charles 
 missed the heroic by several delightful degrees. He 
 changed his mind, betrayed his thoughts and second- 
 thoughts, contradicted himself, made himself absurd 
 and pitiful. When he recollected that he had done 
 so, he became miserable and dignified, and was more 
 irresistible still. He was well-bred, also innately 
 delicate and gentle, for the Shovells were an un- 
 tainted stock, and could be tracked into the nobility 
 of the Stuart times, when they had cleaved to their 
 king, and fallen in his cause, absurdly and becom- 
 ingh^ as was their wont. 
 
 Alice did not disguise from herself that she would 
 have married him willingly, and taken charge of 
 him finally, had things been quite different; and, 
 
36o A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 as things were, she was very near indeed to falling 
 in love with him by an oversight, while she was 
 scolding most vigorously. What girl disdains to be 
 adored by such a man? Where will you find her, 
 high-principled or the contrary, in the length or 
 breadth of London? Miss Eccles did not at all 
 disdain his youthful homage, his stammering 
 rhapsodies in her praise : though being a thoroughly 
 clever girl, she made a successful pretence at every 
 encounter of doing so. 
 
 It made her even a little fonder of him that she 
 had to lie for him to Miss Lennox, and lower herself 
 permanently in the estimation of that lady. She 
 could easily have given him away, for Miss Lennox 
 took her word, but she did not. She amused herself 
 by doing the contrary. She was practically alone 
 with Miss Lennox, the week while Violet, by her 
 father's command, still lingered among the late 
 roses at Glasswell. She had to face searching 
 enquiry, and the silly blabbing of little Sally 
 Pepper, for which Alice would have been glad — 
 very glad — to slap Sally. But Sally was a clever 
 little "hand," and had learnt Lennoxes' ways: so 
 Alice merely sewed, sniffed, and retorted at intervals 
 upon her reproachful patroness. 
 
 Miss Lennox was naturally very sorry indeed at 
 what she heard about Alice from the people down- 
 stairs, — disappointed extremely. She understood a 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 361 
 
 young man had been calling constantly, keeping 
 Miss Eccles company while Miss Ashwin was 
 away. What steps Miss Lennox ought to take about 
 Miss Ashwin's parents, who were so particular, 
 Miss Lennox could not think, and Alice did not help 
 her. She hoped Alice would tell her about it 
 frankly, — several times over; but Alice never did. 
 She only looked at " Loyce," said her mother knew 
 the family, and re-threaded her needle on a short 
 end of cotton, having carefully licked the thread. 
 All the same, the evening she came home to 
 Brixton after Charles' call there, she was rather 
 tired. It was no " fun " at Lennoxes in Violet's ab- 
 sence. She longed also to have news of Violet, but 
 she was not going to ask for it. Violet, shut among 
 Charles' nearest relations, was probably hearing 
 floods of lies about her : but she might sink or swim 
 upon the flood for Alice. It was not likely, at 
 the stage of confidence she and Violet had reached, 
 she was going to exonerate herself, or defend her 
 proceedings. Mr. Shovell might exonerate her, by 
 means of abuse, if he liked. He might or might 
 not have done so already; it all depended on what 
 terms young fellows like that were upon with their 
 families. Alice could not begin to guess, indeed 
 she plumed herself on not guessing, how such people 
 went to work. Beyond this again, she was aware of 
 her limitations in the art of letter-writing, and she 
 
362 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 was aware Violet was a past expert in its mysteries. 
 And it is reckless anyhow to try to write a thing 
 that can hardly be said, at least in Alice's vocabulary. 
 The thought of saying anything at all, in that quar- 
 ter, made her dumb, and filled her eyes with furious 
 tears. 
 
 Her adoration for Violet, violently repressed, since 
 its torrential force made her almost ashamed, was 
 a thing unique, unheard-of, as Miss Eccles believed, 
 in the world before. The revelation of woman 
 to woman is often just as remarkable, for all the 
 truisms on the subject, as the revelation of woman 
 to man. Alice had had no idea, before their meeting, 
 that persons like Miss Ashwin existed. She thought 
 the world consisted of jolly girls of her own sort, 
 and fine ladies she professionally despised. She was 
 as stilted as any blue-blooded aristocrat in her ideas, 
 as Violet had repeatedly informed her. But that 
 difficult fence, that looks so impenetrable to sensitive 
 would-be trespassers on either side, having been 
 once torn down, she was conquered instantly, on 
 their common ground of girlhood, by Violet's sweet- 
 ness. Alice was prostrate really, which accounted 
 no doubt for her snubbing Miss Ashwin with such 
 conscientious regularity, amidst the steady stream of 
 her confidences. 
 
 " Well, dear, I have had a visitor," simpered Mrs. 
 Eccles. " Guess who came to call." 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 363 
 
 " The curate," said Alice, taking off her shoes. 
 She took off her shoes before her hat, which, Mrs. 
 Eccles had often warned her, was vulgar. 
 
 " Not the curate, — far more interesting. A really 
 charming young man." 
 
 " Don't be so hard on Mr. Rigley," said Alice, 
 who had guessed. " I see you have washed up the 
 tea-things," she added. " No, I won't be nasty, 
 then. How long did Mr. Shovell stay^ " 
 
 " Hours," said Mrs. Eccles, smiling again. 
 " Waiting for you probably, naughty girl." 
 
 " Well," said Alice, " I only hope he has learnt 
 his own office times better than he has mine. But 
 it's unlikely." She sniffed. " I'm ready for supper, 
 Mum, if you're not. No you don't." She leant and 
 took away the teapot, which her mother was half 
 concealing. 
 
 The usual short scene ensued between them, and 
 Alice was as usual victorious. She put the teapot 
 on a high shelf, as one does with a young child: 
 waited till her mother's " nerves " recovered, — that 
 is, till she ceased whimpering, — and then gave her 
 a little encouragement. 
 
 " What did you think of him? " said Alice. 
 "Chatty young character, isn't he? I never knew 
 anyone like him for running on, — except Abel." 
 
 " Now don't say those things, Alice. It is not the 
 least amusing. You do it simply to annoy me. I 
 
364 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 have long abandoned any effort on Abel's part, as 
 you ought to know. I won't be talked at, con- 
 tinually, on that subject." 
 
 " All right, ducky," said Alice soothingly. " I've 
 forgiven you. But Abel was a very special line in 
 table conversation, wasn't he"? 'I'm obliged to 
 you, Mrs. Eccles,' every time for the toast. Do you 
 remember^ " 
 
 " Of course I remember," said her mother, with 
 petulance. "Abel was not a bad kind of fellow, 
 originally. You were exceedingly unjust to him, 
 and common in your manner on purpose to annoy 
 me, and make me ashamed of you in front of him. 
 And considering what you drove him to, I wonder 
 you are not ashamed yourself. . . . But Mr. 
 Shovell is very different." 
 
 " Oh, lord," murmured Alice. She suddenly be- 
 gan to foresee the line, and that her former lengthy 
 penance of teasing and reproach was in store for 
 her again. " Don't do it this evening, mother," 
 she said suddenly. "I've got a headache, and I 
 can't stand it." 
 
 "What have you got a headache for^ " said 
 Mrs. Eccles, momentarily diverted. " I have had a 
 headache all day." 
 
 " Isn't it better since tea-time? " said Alice. 
 " No, deary, I don't mean that. I'm crusty to-night, 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 365 
 
 that's a fact, all along of Miss Lennox and her 
 eternal doddering." 
 
 " Don't say ' all along of,' Alice, when you know 
 better." 
 
 " Owing to," corrected Alice. " Only nobody 
 owes anything to her, least of all me." 
 
 She looked hopefully in her mother's direction, 
 but Mrs. Eccles did not smile. Even the most well- 
 meant attempts at humour were lost upon her. Most 
 things were lost on Mrs. Eccles, including her 
 daughter's headaches, and periods of strain. She 
 alluded to the injury of the headache again presently, 
 while she watched Alice embark on a second 
 helping, by saying — 
 
 " You're eating enough, anyhow." 
 
 ** I'm lighter by half a stone," Alice informed her, 
 " than I was this time last year. I weighed myself 
 at the station to see. You can owe that to Loyce, 
 if you like, for it's her doing chiefly." 
 
 Mrs. Eccles was really pleased to hear this, for 
 she liked Alice to be thin. It is really more elegant 
 to be thin, as a cursory examination of the upper 
 walks of our society, especially clerical, will dem- 
 onstrate. She retorted on Alice that she considered 
 it approached profanity deliberately to mispronounce 
 a Bible name, but Alice saw she was mollified. 
 
 She therefore tried to distract her mother's 
 
366 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 thoughts from Charles Shovell and his speaking 
 advantages, and to coax her to other subjects, 
 advancing well-tried decoys such as the curate's 
 weekly readings from nice literature, which Alice 
 sadly attended: and the misdemeanours of char- 
 women and general servants, compared and con- 
 trasted, with illustrations from Mrs. Eccles' ex- 
 perience. 
 
 It was successful, too, for a time: but it was 
 ultimately useless. Mrs. Eccles had got a new sub- 
 ject, and that, after all, is something. She intended 
 to talk of Charles: she had the best and most be- 
 nevolent reasons for doing so, since her one thought 
 now in life was for her daughter's good: and, like 
 all things with Mrs. Eccles, talking of Charles soon 
 became a habit simply. She pestered Alice monoto- 
 nously bout that " nice young Shovell," and where 
 she had "" picked him up," and what his " expecta- 
 tions " were likely to be from a wealthy stepfather, 
 and the " course " they had better adopt with him, 
 — the latter the most fruitful subject of all. She 
 talked until Alice became fairly weary, and em- 
 bittered against life. Such mothers are well able 
 to embitter their children's lives; and Mrs. Eccles, 
 who " wore well," physically speaking, for all her 
 groaning and complaint, had now been at the process 
 for a long period. 
 
 Alice tried to chaff her out of her persistent pur- 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTR.\TIONS 367 
 
 suit of the theme, and failed. She tried to speak 
 seriously, and failed yet more dismally, for Mrs. 
 Eccles could never bear anybody but herself to 
 occupy the pulpit. Then the girl, recklessly ingen- 
 ious, hinted that she was not herself this young 
 Lothario's " first love," hoping to enlist at least 
 a share of accustomed sentiment on Violet's side. 
 
 This was worse than fruitless, for it turned Mrs. 
 Eccles' mind on cunning methods to keep Charles, 
 to ensnare his affections by any means; and she lost 
 herself in small senseless plotting that sickened Alice. 
 There seemed nothing left, for a girl of her un- 
 sophisticated habit of thought, just as before in a 
 similar situation, but sheer brutality to Charles, who 
 fell into all the toils laid for him so easily. And 
 every time Alice was rough with him, his devotion 
 and humility were such that she suffered from heart- 
 searchings afterwards; fearing that, what with 
 sympathy, self-reproach, and indignation at her 
 mother's proceedings, she was growing rapidly to 
 like him too well. Her instinct was to protect him, 
 him and his delicacy likewise, in these encounters, — 
 yet she dared not attempt his succour, for her own 
 sake and that of the cause she had espoused. 
 
 Her ingenuity lagged; she was tired and languid, 
 — a dangerous condition. There were moments 
 when her hold on her purpose slipped, and her hot 
 blood and native instincts urged her solely. She 
 
368 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 mastered herself in the cooler period, thought things 
 out painfully in her manner, saw clearly but two 
 courses left her, and made her simple choice. Ac- 
 cording to our nature and mental capacity, such 
 problems are plain to us or the reverse. Miss Eccles, 
 unlike her cousin Abel in the doctor's description, 
 owned no " devil of hesitation," It was a point of 
 difference with Hamlet, and some other famous 
 intellects as well. She was doubtless saved some 
 trouble by nature in the matter of her decision ; and 
 for those who suspect the existence of the heroic 
 instinct, in primitive natures above all, we frankly 
 offer that opportunity of depreciation. 
 
VIII 
 
 ALICE HAS ENOUGH 
 
 " Well," said Alice, on a certain evening, the 
 evening of the day that united Robert and Margery 
 " If you want to know, I've almost decided to take 
 Abel." 
 
 " What*? " cried Mrs. Eccles, furious and aghast. 
 " You are mad, Alice. You know Abel has dis- 
 graced himself." 
 
 " Yes," said Alice, setting her lips. " And so, if 
 you want to know, has Mr. Shovell. And of the two, 
 I am sorrier for Abel, because he couldn't help 
 himself." 
 
 "Alice I What do you mean*? " 
 
 " Why," the girl said, standing by the table, and 
 looking down, " he just acted as nature led him. 
 He can't think, to call thinking. And this young 
 Shovell knows much better, and for all I know, is 
 deceiving himself and me. I can't say about his 
 sort, — I don't know enough about it. Abel's sort 
 I know. I shall marry Abel, mother." 
 
 " How do you know he will have you*? " said her 
 
370 A LADY OF LEISURE . 
 
 mother cunningly. " You tired him out. He may, 
 by now, have got another." 
 
 " Well, — there are the flower-boxes," said Alice, 
 touching the roses on the table irresolutely. 
 
 She had not quite decided in her own mind how 
 much to tell; for this was the night succeeding the 
 Flower Show, to which she had gone, in unusually 
 high spirits, with Mr. Gibbs' ticket and a friend, — a 
 feminine friend, one of her smart acquaintances in 
 the " profession," — that is, from the shops. 
 
 Alice and the friend had admired the flowers 
 exhaustively, enjoyed the air, criticised the clothing 
 of the crowd, and jested in the most perfect style 
 conceivable upon all their common subjects. They 
 had been as happy as birds, or as girls on holiday 
 can be, — until they espied Mr. Peacock, and even 
 then, although his appearance was a shock to Alice 
 personally, they enjoyed a new game, delightful at 
 least to the friend, of dodging his tall figure through 
 the tents. 
 
 But there may be something worth crediting in 
 the talisman of true love so extolled by the poets: 
 the divining faculty, the jewel that changes colour, 
 lightens or pulsates when the only woman in the 
 world is near. Howsoever it may be, Abel the 
 " turnip " felt Alice's neighbourhood in the hot tents 
 somehow: and once he followed, she was unable to 
 escape. Thus he entrapped Alice and the friend, 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 371 
 
 laughing and indignant, in an impasse of the tents, 
 and they had to turn and gird themselves for the 
 encounter. 
 
 Then, a new miracle happened. Whether it was 
 the presence of the friend, or the presence of the 
 flowers, — Mr. Gibbs would have declared the latter, 
 — Abel showed himself discreet and sensible. Digni- 
 fied he always was, for physical dignity is inspiring, 
 not only to the beholder, but to the possessor too. 
 The friend notified Alice privately that she was 
 "mashed" after the first five minutes; and, though 
 Alice replied in the formula, and was sharply on her 
 guard, she was impressed by him, and surprised. 
 
 Abel even talked I 
 
 The fact was, Abel happened to be sure of himself 
 on the occasion. He had never been so in Alice's 
 company before. Within the horticultural ring, he 
 was on his own ground, one might have said, in his 
 own temple: for the thing he preached was his 
 religion. Alice laughed at him in a cousinly manner 
 for the friend's benefit; but it was beyond any 
 concealment on her part that he knew, at least for 
 the moment, things which she desired to learn. 
 Throughout the afternoon, while the friend chaffed 
 and jested at her side, she had been trying to learn 
 things from the flower-labels, the certificates and 
 notices. Alice had natural instincts towards the 
 soil, — not like Violet towards the dew-drops on 
 
372 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 rose-petals. She wanted to know, not the precise 
 shell or jewel or abstract quality that a flower sug- 
 gested, but the name by which it went (invariably 
 absurd) in the exhibitor's mouth, its habits, seasons, 
 tastes, and the way to grow it. These were the 
 branches of knowledge which Abel possessed, with 
 which his otherwise limited mind was stored. If it 
 were true, as Claude Ashwin had unkindly said, that 
 his vocabulary was restricted to five dozen English 
 words, it might have been contended in his defence 
 that a quantity of E<;«-English words, — percolate, 
 pyrethrum, hybridise, Hopkinsonii, and the like, — 
 had by their more generous growth shoved the 
 common vocables out. In fact, that the common 
 vocables were as weeds in Mr. Peacock's well-kept 
 mind, stocked with the finest flowers of the gardener's 
 vocabulary. After all, we cannot all of us, like Miss 
 Eccles, possess two dialects at once for daily use I 
 
 Alice came home thoughtful, rebuffing the shafts 
 of the friend. She was really in painful perplexity, 
 a war of soul. She had parted from Abel at the 
 gate, as she would have parted from any other 
 gentleman: one such as Charles or Mr. Warden, 
 who had never put her out by stealing a motor-car 
 to improve his social position, or by trying to cut 
 his throat for her, when he signally failed to do so. 
 She chaffed not at all, nor shied at the man's halting 
 approaches. She looked him laughing in the eyes, 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 373 
 
 and her own beautiful soft eyes told him that he was 
 not so bad, and might be worth forgiving possibly, — 
 some time, — at the end of all. And poor Abel went 
 away in beatitude, trembling from head to foot, 
 neither a thief, nor a suicide, nor even an impish 
 monkey, such as Violet had seen on the cottage roof, 
 — but a happy, stupid man, with a new chance at 
 the girl of his heart granted by his flower-gods, — 
 and Mr. Gibbs. 
 
 Alice stood by her mother's table, still in her 
 festal gown of muslin, and handled Abel's roses, the 
 last he had sent her from the Glasswell garden. She 
 had known, of course, since the receipt of that last 
 box by post, that they were inhabitants of the Glass- 
 well garden, the very haunts where Violet was 
 wandering now. The postmark on the box had told 
 her much; and she had pondered at length over 
 former conversations in Lennox's studio. She could 
 not escape the echoes of a voice, soft and delicate 
 and decided, to which she had never ceased from 
 the first to listen curiously. It had taught her, in 
 these last months, so many things. She looked at 
 the roses — they were fading now, for all her careful 
 nursing, and somehow the shell-coloured, dropping 
 petals reminded her of Violet — Violet that last day, 
 when she had lain faint, but carelessly brave, in 
 Alice's arms. Violet had lain so at the back of her 
 
374 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 thoughts, through all the reckless war of her un- 
 tamed impulses that afternoon, for the mother- 
 nature is very strong in such as Alice. 
 
 " I mean to take him," she said obstinately, " and 
 that's all of it. He'll have me, anyhow, if I 
 suggest it." 
 
 " You mean you intend to propose to him? " said 
 Mrs. Eccles, struck with pious horror at the idea. 
 
 " Yes, Mum, — for the second time. You know," 
 added Alice, humorously, " the first time, it didn't 
 quite come off." 
 
 " Alice," said Mrs. Eccles, " if you intend to be 
 vulgar, we shall never finish this conversation. I 
 am in shocking pain to-night," — Alice had been out 
 at tea-time, it may be mentioned, — " and it is all I 
 can do to talk to you." 
 
 " Don't then," said Alice. " You know it's use- 
 less, when my mind is made up." 
 
 " Obstinate," moaned the mother. " I shall be ill 
 again, I know. I ought to see a doctor." 
 
 " You'd do better to attend to the last you had," 
 said Alice meaningly. 
 
 " Tell me this," said Mrs. Eccles. " Have you 
 been meeting that fellow again, in spite of my 
 advice? " She had subsided, huddled in a dressing- 
 gown, on the sofa: but she stared fixedly at her 
 daughter's back, as she stood, tall and nobly-formed, 
 beside the roses. Mrs. Eccles disapproved per- 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 375 
 
 sistently of Alice's appearance, and of all it must 
 convey to a world she restlessly suspected. She was 
 inclined to suspect Alice, for having such an appear- 
 ance, in her less reasonable moods; for it is not a 
 far cry, for a fool, from one attitude to the other. 
 " You wicked girl," said Mrs. Eccles. " Have you 
 been meeting him again, and never telling me*? " 
 
 " Yes, Mum. You never advised anything of the 
 sort, you know. You left it to me, very rightly. 
 I met him to-day. He's all right. He's left his 
 last place, but he met his old employer at the Show, 
 and they talked a bit, and he's sure of a good job 
 soon. He has lots of friends, — I never met a man 
 with more, considering. He wants to set up on his 
 own as soon as may be, — had better, I should say. 
 He's a clever fellow at his trade, I never doubted 
 that." 
 
 " Have you met him before this? " The accusing 
 voice was monotonously persistent. 
 
 " No," said the girl carelessly. " I came across 
 him, that's all. No escape." 
 
 " And Mr. Shovell, — and his love for you. His 
 sacrifices " 
 
 " Don't talk to me of sacrifices," said Alice in- 
 dignantly. " Mr. Shovell's the sort sacrifices others, 
 all their lives. Not but what I like him," she added 
 slowly. " He's a dear, in his way; but he's not the 
 dear for me. I couldn't do it." 
 
376 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " Why not? " 
 
 " I couldn't. Don't talk to me, Mum. It's so bad 
 for you to be angry, and I shall make you, you 
 know, if you go on." 
 
 " I will go on. I will know about this. You have 
 been working behind my back. You heartless girl, I 
 believe it is simply because I toil for your good you 
 turn against me." 
 
 " Drop it, Mother." The girl spoke under her 
 breath. Alice was long-suffering, but she had borne 
 much from that voice. After a pause she made a 
 new effort, and pursued. " You could live with us. 
 Mum, you know. Abel always thought a lot of 
 you." This was a perfectly genuine element in her 
 decision; but it rang a little falsely to her mother's 
 ear, simply because the tone was unsteady. Alice 
 could hardly reckon with her temper when she was 
 tired: she knew it and was nervous. 
 
 " Don't flatter me," cried Mrs. Eccles, furiously, 
 " I am not to be deluded by fair words. You do. 
 this in despite of me, on purpose. You intend to kill 
 me, I shouldn't wonder. That is what you want. 
 You monster of ingratitude." . . . She talked 
 a little longer in the same vein, Alice waiting for 
 her. " Tell me this," she said at last, " what ap- 
 pointments have you made with that fellow? Tell 
 me that." 
 
 " Appointments'? None. Ask Flo." 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 377 
 
 " I will not ask her. You are to answer me. How 
 did he persuade you to it? How could he at all, 
 unless you have been meeting in a clandestine 
 manner, — yes, or corresponding, with all my care. 
 With all the labour I've spent on you, Alice, to turn 
 round on me like this. And when I am suffering so, 
 — what did Abel say? " 
 
 " Nothing to the point," said Alice, " as usual." 
 She waited anew, mastering herself. " Abel's all 
 right," she repeated, using the form she had used to 
 Violet. " You've told me so often enough, anyhow. 
 He's shaky a bit in the upper department, but there's 
 no harm in him really. Anyway, I can manage very 
 well for two. I have always been pretty sure I 
 could manage him, once married. It's marrying does 
 the job." She bit her lip. " I expect I had better 
 be married, anyhow. . . . There are reasons." 
 
 With that she sat down, as though she could stand 
 no longer. 
 
 Mrs. Eccles, on the sofa, glared at her. No doubt 
 a girl more skilled in language and what it tradi- 
 tionally conveys would have avoided the last phrase; 
 but Alice, tossed by tempests, had no time to weigh 
 phrases. Between mothers and daughters, as a rule, 
 such anxious attention to the spoken formula is not 
 necessary. But she had failed to follow her mother's 
 drift in the interrogatory, though she would have 
 done so now, had she looked round. There is but 
 
378 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 one look between women, to convey a certain thing. 
 Mrs. Eccles' look conveyed that suspicion unmis- 
 takably. 
 
 " Alice ! " she said, after an interval of sheer 
 breathlessness, between her teeth. She was as white 
 as death. 
 
 The girl turned sharply. She saw the expression, 
 saw she was disbelieved, discredited, unsupported 
 in the hardest struggle of her life, and insulted, as 
 well, with the worst insult an honest girl knows, 
 from the last quarter a girl has the right to expect; 
 and the tiger in her, so long mastered with success, 
 flashed out. It flashed first visibly in her face, with 
 something of the red fire she had seen once on the 
 face of her cousin Abel. 
 
 She fell on her mother, and shook her with both 
 hands. It said a good deal, considering the blood 
 in her veins, and the feebleness of the thing beneath 
 her clutch, for her training and self-mastery, that she 
 did not kill her then and there. 
 
 But Mrs. Eccles, screaming feebly, shrank away, 
 far too poor in spirit to face that noble storm 
 she had aroused; and the girl, despairing of her, let 
 her fury fall almost as soon as she had seized it, and 
 dropped beside her against the couch, her head upon 
 her folded arms. It was a sight for the gods to 
 witness and lament, that humiliation of beauty and 
 power, both at their zenith, before weakness and 
 
FOREIGN ADiMINISTRATIONS 379 
 
 silly degeneration. Alice had committed murder, 
 no doubt, in the eyes of the calm eternal judges, 
 the philosophers who watch our troubled life, for in 
 that flash of time, she had wished her mother dead. 
 Only the ultimate judge of all, we may trust, will 
 be fairer to life and its deserts than that. 
 
 Mrs. Eccles did not die, of course; such charac- 
 ters do not die easily. Alice nursed her all night, 
 for she had a sharp attack of the illness that watched 
 on her excesses, like a wolf waiting to spring. The 
 girl sent an excuse down to Lennoxes, by the hands 
 of a trustworthy friend who passed that way. 
 Charles came during the day, having heard the news : 
 a humbled suppliant Charles, very kind, very sorry 
 for her, and rather hopeless for himself. Alice saw 
 him for a few minutes and did not keep him waiting 
 for the truth. She told him simply that she was 
 going to be married, and he must cease to think of 
 her. She added that she was seeing nobody, could 
 think of no man for the minute, since her mother 
 was so ill. That was faint consolation to miserable 
 Charles. She looked lovely, but subdued and har- 
 assed. She used the big sister's manner, — much 
 what she had used of old to her first love, little Kit, 
 — barely thinking what she was doing the while. 
 But it was natural art, for it softened his despair to 
 vague remorse. He tried to suggest devices to help 
 
38o A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 her, tried to hint at resources, all his fortune, at her 
 call, felt he was failing miserably in all he did and 
 said, and left her. 
 
 He went home to his lodging, and very probably 
 cried; but there is no need to follow his proceedings, 
 for Charles in love was not peculiar, nor notable in 
 any way. But the thing on which, after many and 
 tormenting reflections, he did ultimately decide, was 
 very far, as matters eventuated, from the worst he 
 could have done. Two letters, quoted entire, may 
 finish his first love-story for the curious; though we 
 warn the curious, for his sake, that the first docu- 
 ment cannot be said to be in the best style of its 
 celebrated author. 
 
 He wrote to Violet, on the day succeeding that of 
 Margery's engagement: 
 
 " Dear Miss Ashwin, 
 
 " I happen to have heard that your friend's 
 mother, Mrs. Eccles, is seriously ill, and she is 
 nursing her night and day. They are two women 
 alone. I do not know whether you think tliis right, 
 or if you could do anything about it anyhow. Miss 
 Lennox seems unable to make her have a doctor, 
 which seems a pity. 
 
 *' Yours very sincerely, 
 
 " Charles Shovell." 
 
FOREIGN ADMINISTRATIONS 381 
 
 Violet wrote to Dr. Ashwin, on the day of Sir 
 Rupert Brading's funeral: 
 
 " Father darling, 
 
 " I tremble to disturb your delicately-balanced 
 Programme, and I abase myself before Joliffe, 
 but you had both better go to Brixton immediately. 
 Her mother is in agonies again, she in anxiety 
 naturally, and Charles in long-clothes, — terrified of 
 approaching you. Consequently he approached me, 
 — original, but I like him for it. Address as 
 appended, 
 
 " V. I. A." 
 
 Dr. Ashwin wrote nothing to anybody, — but 
 acted without delay. 
 
PART IV 
 HOME AFFAIRS 
 
RETURN TO THE CAPITAL 
 
 Miss Ash win, arriving at the paternal mansion, 
 passed up the steps, and through the open door. 
 Before the servant who held it she stopped an 
 instant, stripping off her gloves. 
 
 "How are you, Francis'?" she asked him. "I 
 hope Boulogne was a success. I thought it brave of 
 you to go across, for such a limited time. Are Father 
 and Mother back yet, I wonder^ " 
 
 " Dr. and Mrs. Ashwin are in the drawing-room, 
 Miss," said the footman. " They have been back 
 since two o'clock." 
 
 Violet shot across the vestibule, skimmed up the 
 three steps like a bird, and then walked with much 
 grace and dignity across the carpeted hall to the 
 drawing-room door. She was delighted to be home, 
 and did not always regard the presence of the ser- 
 vants sufficiently. The result of which behaviour 
 was, that Francis retired to the servants' quarters, 
 and informed his world there that Miss Violet was 
 herself at any rate; and then found that Joliffe had 
 reassured them as to that already. 
 
386 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 Dr. Ashwin rose, on springs, at his daughter's 
 entrance, and his wife said, " Already? " with 
 eyebrows raised. Violet made naturally for her 
 father, and then recollected herself, and swerved, 
 nearly as naturally, to her mother's side. Eveleen 
 kissed her and said she was looking well. Eveleen 
 herself was looking well, extraordinarily, full length 
 in a low chair; but Violet rather doubted, from her 
 expression, if her father had been having a good 
 time. " I told them one extra for dinner," said 
 Violet politely. " I hope that was all right? I also 
 told Francis he could eliminate the place, after the 
 first bell, if necessary." 
 
 Eveleen said it would not be necessary: and her 
 husband's mouth twitched as the girl passed to his 
 inviting arm. She laid her head back against it, 
 and he bent his to look at her. It was Claude's own 
 peculiar scrutiny, — and yet different from that he 
 used to others. It was yearning, even hungry, a 
 little, — " il la couvait des yeux," in our neighbours' 
 charming expression. 
 
 "All right?" he murmured. She assented as 
 quietly, not to provoke her mother further. Yet she 
 observed, as she assented, that all was barely right 
 with him. A strong man cannot pass through a 
 sultry season at full stretch, with only five days' 
 holiday, and those da5^s of torment by pin-pricks, 
 and not show the unnatural strain a little; Claude 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 387 
 
 had never been a strong man, though he was called 
 indefatigable, as a jest, by all his acquaintance. 
 
 " Tell me," Violet entreated him breathlessly. 
 " Mother will excuse. I am simply expiring to 
 know." 
 
 " You may prevent her expiring," said Eveleen, 
 watching them. 
 
 " I followed orders," said Dr. Ashwin, " so far as 
 I had them. It was a stiff day for Joliffe, but I 
 think he has forgiven you. He had, among other 
 things, to act as ambulance, which is his particular 
 aversion. I practically ordered the woman to hos- 
 pital. The girl was straining herself for no reason." 
 
 " Obstinacy," agreed Violet. " I know. Then, 
 will the mother be all right? " 
 
 " Eventually," he said, glancing at Eveleen. " It 
 will be a longish business, — till Christmas probably. 
 After that she must get away to the country." 
 
 " To Devonshire," nodded Violet. She instantly 
 assumed an operation, from his look. " Very good, 
 I will see to that part. Thank you enormously. 
 Father. It is quite a load off my mind. You were 
 not very cutting to the poor dear, I trust"? " 
 
 " To which poor dear"? " 
 
 " Either of them." 
 
 Claude reflected conscientiously. " To the elder, 
 I may have been. I simply cannot stand that type, 
 in life." 
 
388 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " Only in an old red book," said Violet. " No, I 
 agree with you completely. Mrs. Nick the second 
 is not even amusing." 
 
 " What are you talking about? " said Eveleen, 
 who knew quite well. " It might be better manners 
 to explain." 
 
 " The Eccles affair," her husband said. " What 
 I was telling you at Bering." 
 
 " Oh yes," said Eveleen coldly. She had heard 
 quite enough of Alice Eccles, as a fact. 
 
 " It was necessary to speak of it," he explained 
 to Violet, " because it affects your mother as well. 
 She has borne, however, with the arrangement." 
 
 "What*?" — Violet draw up her head, and re- 
 garded him startled. 
 
 " I hope I have not done wrong," he said, grow- 
 ing more apologetic at the look. " But she could not 
 possibly be in that wretched place alone. She her- 
 self was the only person who did not see it was 
 out of the question." Violet was still gazing, 
 motionless. " Don't say I have put my foot in it," 
 he said. " I fetched her here." 
 
 "Here? Alice? In this house? " 
 
 " In your mother's room, I think, at this minute. 
 Your mother has seen her, I believe. She has been 
 here with the caretaker, quite contented, at least 
 I trust so. I thought the woman seemed all right. 
 I begged Miss Alice to use the books and so on, but 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 389 
 
 I was rather short of time. I had to leave most of 
 it to her own good nature." 
 
 " Complete, as usual," murmured Violet. She 
 had coloured visibly pink. Then, unable to bear it 
 longer, she flew at his neck, and embraced him with 
 the fiercest ardour of which a quite young woman 
 is capable. 
 
 " Violet ! " Eveleen exclaimed. 
 
 " Oh goodness, — I am sorry. Mother, dear," she 
 answered, clinging to him and being clung to. " It 
 is gratitude, simply. Pure, cold gratitude, didn't 
 you observe'? And artistic appreciation. He does 
 finish things you give him so gratuitously, doesn't 
 he? I ought to expect it always, but I don't. 
 . . . Dear, I must go, — do you mind terribly'? 
 I will tell you all about your Gibbses after ten." 
 
 " Why not my Gibbses after dinner*? " said 
 Claude, retaining her. 
 
 " Oh, — because M. de Fervolles is so bored by 
 details of English rustic life. Gracious I" added 
 Violet, putting a hand to her head, " this will make 
 five places. I must speak to unfortunate Francis 
 again." 
 
 " You need not," said Eveleen. *' Miss Eccles is 
 doing work for me upstairs, as it happens. They 
 have arranged about her meals." 
 
 " Oh, the little horror," said Violet, stopping. 
 " Wouldn't she come on any other terms? Father, 
 
390 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 I thought better of you than that. Did she bully 
 you, after all^" 
 
 " Don't be nonsensical, Violet," said Eveleen 
 sharply. 
 
 " She bullied me intermittently," said Dr. Ashwin 
 quietly. " She really is an opinionated young party. 
 She has work to do for herself as well, I gathered. 
 You had better go and tackle her. Pussy, that's 
 the best." 
 
 Violet went, her face still pink and her heart 
 thumping. What could that last remark of her 
 father's about work be taken to imply ^ What Mr. 
 Gibbs called his obscurantist methods were rather 
 tomenting, especially when one's thoughts were 
 already in a whirl. What could such a phrase 
 have meant but one thing, anyhow"? 
 
 Alice, in black, was working in Mrs. Ashwin's 
 room. Her beautiful head was bent, and she stroked 
 with her needle at intervals, in a pretty skilful 
 manner, the ruffles she was attaching to a trail of 
 white she held. Violet's entrance on the soft carpets 
 was spirit-like, but she turned. Just a quick work- 
 woman's turn of head, for it was a servant she 
 expected. 
 
 " Time to clear out " she was beginning. 
 
 Then she ceased, dropped her hands, and coloured 
 gloriously, far more gloriously than Violet at her 
 best could ever have accomplished. Her work 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 391 
 
 slipped off her knee to the floor, and she spread her 
 splendid arms abroad. Miss Ashwin went straight 
 to her, and fell upon her breast. 
 
 " It's all right, lovey, — don't you be anxious," 
 said Alice, when she had clasped her a little, in 
 sheer joy at having her again. " I've made it up 
 with Abel, and we're getting married quietly next 
 week. I'm awfully behind with my work, what 
 with my mother's goings-on, and then your mother's 
 on top. But I thought, — perhaps when she gets 
 here, she'll help me in odd times. Your white work 
 was always beautiful, whatever might be said about 
 the rest." 
 
 She spoke at length, deliberately, soothing with 
 her hands the while, for the younger girl was pant- 
 ing, striving vainly for breath to say a word. Alice 
 was anxious, in dread almost, till she spoke, in her 
 own soft tone. 
 
 " How sweet, — how very sweet of you to come ! " 
 
 " Don't I I was trembling, I can tell you. Com- 
 ing like that behind your back and all. The cheek 
 of it, I thought, in the cab I But really, you know, 
 your father didn't give me a chance, first or last. 
 He's like a draught about the place, upsetting every- 
 thing, and catching you unexpectedly. He has that 
 way of slipping in questions — just like you — so 
 you let the thing out you don't mean to, every time. 
 I can't stick that habit," said Alice, indignantly. 
 
 " Cunning, isn't it*? He is a nuisance," admitted 
 
392 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 Violet, " when you want to hide things. I have 
 disliked him myself, before now." 
 
 " I didn't want to hide mother," said Alice. " But 
 I'd sooner not have had her go to hospital, in the 
 state she was. That's what I wanted him to see. 
 You don't know who mightn't hear her talking. 
 She had fits she thought I was killing her — and 
 that. Things I couldn't tell him, or any man, 
 really." 
 
 Violet noticed the " really." Her father had 
 heard. He almost invariably did hear, though the 
 subjects were hardly aware of it, and only resented 
 the memory vaguely, afterwards. 
 
 *' You needn't tell me," she said gently. 
 " Doctors know best, — I mean when they have been 
 through things. Father, you know, has had an awful 
 time himself." 
 
 " Well," said Alice, " since you say so, I guessed 
 it. You're not so quick at making out trouble as that 
 comes to, without. My goodness, he's like a knife ! 
 I said at last — ' Well, Dr. Ashwin, if you will 
 have it ' — and so on. . . . He didn't stir an 
 eyelid. He just took my hands like that, and looked 
 up the muscles of my arms, slowly, — and then at 
 my eyes, like a wrestler looks. And then he said — 
 'You could have done it, too,' — just as if he was 
 pleased to think it. I told him I'd killed chickens 
 on the farm " 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 393 
 
 The girl stopped shuddering. She had again said 
 more than she had meant. 
 
 "Why were your arms bare 9" said Violet 
 thoughtfully. 
 
 "Why? I forget. . . . He was trying my 
 heart, I think. I'd had about enough that night 
 he came. I daresay I was light-headed myself a 
 little; but I remember saying that, — and his saying 
 that, — and how he put me to bed after it. He's a 
 father to have, anyhow. . . . And with Mum, 
 too, — screaming silly as she was. My word," 
 finished Alice, " he's a clever man." 
 
 " How — perfectly — frightful," said Violet. 
 "And you were all alone, poor Alice?" 
 
 " Alone, yes. That's nothing. I've often been 
 alone. Loyce came next day to see me, — she 
 
 was kind enough. But she's not much Good 
 
 gracious, dear, there's your mother already." Alice 
 half rose, instinctively, as the mistress of the house 
 came into her own apartment. " We'll go along 
 to your own room, shall we? " 
 
 Eveleen had no suggestion to offer in the matter. 
 She looked at the girls' attitude with slightly raised 
 brows, and then walked to her dressing-table. 
 
 "What clever man?" she enquired, in her full, 
 easy tone. 
 
 " Your husband, Mrs. Ashwin," said Alice 
 promptly. " I owe him a great deal. I was inform- 
 
394 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 ing your daughter, before you came, of a thing or 
 two that passed between us." 
 
 " Ah," said Eveleen, satisfied apparently. " Will 
 you be so kind as to come and fasten me. Miss 
 Eccles, later on'? " 
 
 Alice replied correctly, and then followed Violet 
 to the greater privacy of her own apartment, sniff- 
 ing one single time upon the way. She remarked 
 to Violet she hoped Mrs. Ashwin had not heard her 
 last story, but Violet did not seem to take the point. 
 
 The fact was that Miss Eccles, who had an ex- 
 quisite sense of what was incumbent upon her as 
 guest in the house, had strings of thoughts on the 
 subject of its occupants to which she did not give 
 vent in words. An occasional sniff was the most 
 her perfect manners would allow. One of the 
 thoughts was, that she had no objection to Mrs. 
 Ashwin's being jealous of her, — she rather enjoyed 
 it than otherwise, and it might be useful to the 
 doctor. Alice would have done her host any service 
 in her power, to requite his recent services to her; 
 and she judged that diverting his wife's attention 
 from her flame of the moment might very well be a 
 serviceable step. Alice had a way of thinking and 
 judging, as we confessed before, in this rather primi- 
 tive fashion. It was probably inherited from the 
 Eccles' stock, and was no fault of her own ; so critics 
 need not press too heavily upon the failing. 
 
II 
 
 A TIGER-LILY 
 
 On reaching \'iolet's room, Miss Eccles sat on 
 Violet's bed, and watched the girl begin her toilet, 
 clasping her knees the while, and treating herself to 
 a superior survey of her surroundings from time to 
 time. She thought the room " peculiar," — but then, 
 so was Violet. The daintiness and order of every- 
 thing won her approbation, the books she considered 
 might have been more elegantly bound, and the 
 pictures, after the first, she preferred not to look 
 at at all. 
 
 " Why don't you talk'? " said Violet presently. 
 She was dressing and unpacking simultaneously, in 
 haste, for she was late. 
 
 " You might let me look about," said Alice, very 
 calm. 
 
 " Haven't you been in here before^ " 
 
 " No," said Alice, " I don't come where I'm not 
 invited." 
 
 " Thanks," said Violet. " That feels familiar. 
 Do you know, it is weeks since I was really snubbed. 
 My cousins are no good at it. Do you like the 
 colour of those curtains^ " 
 
396 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " Not much," said Alice. " Now don't go and 
 make me say what I oughtn't to. There are ever 
 so many things I ought to say, if I could only 
 manage." 
 
 She bit her lip. Violet glanced at her reflection 
 in the glass. 
 
 " Run some ribbons in those, will you*? " she said 
 carelessly, tossing some white things at her friend. 
 Alice settled to the job contentedly. She could 
 always talk better when her hands were occupied. 
 
 " I am curious about Abel," observed Violet soon, 
 while she brushed out her hair. " Did you ask him 
 yourself, Alice^ " 
 
 " Naturally I did," said Alice. " There was no- 
 body else to undertake it, your Dad not being about. 
 I led up to it with Abel easily, in our kitchen. That 
 was just after Mum went, — Abel asked for her, 
 of course, and seemed disappointed to know he was 
 too late. He admires Mum a good deal, you know, 
 — always did. He would have gone away, I 
 shouldn't wonder, but I had him in. I wasn't 
 going to have any nonsense. A cousin and all, he 
 had no reason to be afraid. . . . Then I started. 
 I said, — '' Abel, you're out of a place,' — he still 
 was then, — ' without a character, — and your only 
 chance for another is a decent wife.' It hadn't 
 struck Abel quite in that light, so he looked startled. 
 So I said — ' My idea is, Abel, that you had better 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 397 
 
 get married to the first decent girl that asks you.' 
 Then he took that in, — I gave him time. Then he 
 took up his hat, and tried to get out of the door. 
 But I nipped in between. I said — ' Hold up till I 
 ask you, anyhow, — that's the least a man can do.' 
 So I asked him." 
 
 "Did he refuse?" said Violet demurely, as she 
 arranged her hair. 
 
 " No," said Alice. " He didn't accept either. He 
 opened his mouth." 
 
 " So you supplied the answer too." Violet laughed 
 into the glass. " You funny girl," she murmured. 
 
 " Likely he'd forgotten my name in the interval," 
 said Miss Eccles thoughtfully. " I didn't think of 
 that till this minute. It might account for the 
 delay before he spoke." 
 
 '■' I am beginning to be perfectly sure," said Violet, 
 " that he followed you about the kitchen on his 
 knees. I am certain he put it beautifully, anyhow. 
 You are heartless, Alice, really, to scoff at a real 
 passion like that. I suspect," Violet added, in her 
 tranquil mechanical tone, fixing the last curl, and 
 looking at the effect sidelong, " you do it out of con- 
 sideration for me : but you need not." 
 
 Alice laid down the white skirt she had finished 
 and looked at her, needle in hand. " WTiat I can't 
 see," she said, " is how anyone can help hugging you 
 on sight. Man, I mean. That's what's so odd about 
 
398 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 it. Never mind." She returned to her occupation. 
 
 " I do not," said Violet. " Now go on where you 
 left off. Weren't you sorry for poor Abel, really*? " 
 
 " I was, dear," said Alice, " and I am. He'll 
 have to look alive, you see, from this time forth. I 
 shan't stand any nonsense. It's not likely he'll get 
 the farm, after the life he's led them. His father 
 doesn't give in so easy, once his back's up, and Jem, 
 — that's the next, — has his head screwed on prop- 
 erly. Abel'll have to work and make a home for me 
 and mother, and that's what I told him straight." 
 
 " And quite superfluously," said Violet. " I am 
 sure he is aware of the obligation, and will work 
 most splendidly." 
 
 " I shouldn't wonder," said Alice, and ceased her 
 occupation, hanging thoughtful. " I can set people 
 to work, you know," she said, looking doubtfully 
 upon Violet. " That's what I'm good for." Then 
 her uncertain expression changed to keenness of a 
 sudden. " Don't put on that one, deary," she ad- 
 vised. " You'd look much better in the other." 
 
 Miss Ashwin, having concluded her coiffure in 
 really record time, was pondering her wardrobe, 
 and hanging doubtful between two courses, as was 
 evident. 
 
 " I want particularly to look plain," said Violet, 
 " for the Marquis." She dived serenely into the 
 first of the frocks. 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 399 
 
 Miss Eccles got up from her seat at once, and 
 snatched at it, — by which means the girls faced one 
 another. The delicate satin robe dropped between 
 them. 
 
 " Go on," said Violet, lifting her eyes, for Alice 
 was the taller. " You set Abel working, — what 
 about Charles? Didn't you make him do so many 
 hours a day, for leave to see you in the evening? 
 That's like the Bible, a fine, ancient way. Tell me 
 how you managed, Alice." 
 
 " I can't stand idlers about the world," said Alice 
 between her teeth. 
 
 " Then you did. I supposed so from Mr. Warden. 
 You see, I know all about it. You have been the 
 saving of Charles, — he is doing splendidl)% and 
 what is more he is fond of the work. Mr. Warden 
 is struck — with his own discernment, naturally, not 
 knowing who had wound Charles up." A pause, 
 the taller and more beautiful girl looking by far the 
 more abashed of the two, though no sin but that of 
 being loved had been hers. Violet's slim bare arms 
 lifted, and her hands lay on Alice's shoulders. " I 
 hope you weren't too hard on him, Alice dear," she 
 said, smiling, " He has been used at home to care 
 and consideration. Lilies that toil not are con- 
 sidered, don't you know " 
 
 " Don't," Alice broke in. " New Testament, too, 
 and you with an aunt in the church I You ought 
 
400 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 to be ashamed, Miss Ashwin. , . . I can't stand 
 your acting, dear, with that smile on your face. I 
 can't bear your face like it is at all this evening." 
 
 " Haven't I done my hair rather well*? I trusted 
 so." She made the pretty turn of neck again. 
 
 " Likely I'd consider him," Alice pushed furiously 
 on. " Likely, isn't it? — with you waiting behind. 
 Lilies, indeed, — I'm a tiger-lily when I like, I can 
 tell you. You never saw me like that, my pet, nor 
 ever will, I hope. I'd have boxed his ears with 
 pleasure that first night. I — I could laugh when I 
 think now how I went on, — and he as bad." 
 
 " Don't laugh, Alice, — better not. Some laughter 
 is awful, I think. I am sure you were a lovely tiger- 
 lily. You've let him alone since then? " 
 
 " He's kept off, yes. He's going straight. He'll 
 not be the worse for it in the end, trust me. Men are 
 like that, — we've got to get used to them. Oh lord, 
 me telling you this I " Alice groaned. " I don't 
 know why you make me speak. It hurts you to 
 hear, and me to say, — and yet I can't help it when 
 you ask quick like that. . . . Oh, there's the 
 bell, my precious dear, and you half-dressed ! Now 
 you just leave it and let me manage. Your little 
 hands are shaking, anyway." Miss Eccles kissed 
 them rapidly both, as they still lay on her shoulders. 
 " I know what's pretty on you, — ought to know. 
 That black's not your fashion at all, not for a dozen 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 401 
 
 years." She kicked it disdainfully aside, and took 
 up the silver dress. " There you are," she said, " like 
 a lot of moonbeams. Yes, you may put on your 
 shoes. Now, where do you keep your jewlry, — I 
 never can say that word. I'll Marquis him," mur- 
 mured Alice, between her teeth still set. 
 
 And she did. That is, the Marquis de Fervolles 
 looked some four times at Violet that night, in the 
 intervals of looking forty at her mother. She 
 certainly looked very charming in her own eerie 
 manner, when she slid to her place at table, ex- 
 tremely late, with an apology. The Marquis oppo- 
 site wondered with some curiosity how she, whom 
 he had thought such a child, had grown to a woman 
 so swiftly. She seemed absent, and joined little 
 in the conversation, since her father was talking bril- 
 liantly; she smiled, and dropped a word occasionally, 
 French or English, just on the level of the dialogue, 
 to sustain him; and she hardly glanced at M. de 
 Fervolles, though he faced her. But the Marquis, 
 Vv ho was persistent by nature, got in a word with her 
 later: for she agreed after dinner, at a word from 
 her father, to play. 
 
 As with ever\' art to which the Ashwins gave 
 their serious attention, there was no nonsense about 
 Violet's playing. She was already, though in the 
 bud, a very fine performer, the power in her slim 
 
402 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 arms and fingers surprising, the force of feeling 
 startling to those who had seen her only in her 
 more languid moods. Her style was highly coloured, 
 like the bedroom curtains of which Alice disapproved. 
 Dr. Ashwin watched his wife's face covertly while 
 the music proceeded, but it never changed. The 
 Marquis turned from his soliloquy at Eveleen's side 
 to look at the girl with new, though lazy surprise. 
 When she ceased, he told her that she was " admir- 
 ably well-dowered," and he said it seriously, without 
 a super-added compliment. Violet, who had played 
 for her father, smiled wanly and shrugged slightly, 
 sitting lonely in the distance on the stool. 
 
 " It is hardly a young lady's music, however," 
 chirped the Marquis towards Eveleen. " Tem- 
 pestuous, a trifle, hein? " 
 
 " It was loud," said Eveleen. 
 
 " It was an invocation to revolt," declared her 
 husband, in his most definite manner, from the rear. 
 
 "Aha'?" said the Marquis. "Revolt'? And 
 directed to whom"? " 
 
 " Certainly to the English," said Violet from the 
 distance. " The French never need it, do they^ " 
 
 " But, Mademoiselle," protested the interested 
 Marquis. " You would not summon Madame your 
 Mamma to revolt, surely"? Quelle honte ! " 
 
 " Pray do," said Claude. " Her temperament 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 403 
 
 even requires it at intervals. She needs, before all 
 things, to be stirred." 
 
 The Marquis answered with an unguarded plati- 
 tude, — for he had been suffering for some time from 
 the fact, so he felt the allusion. He looked at Eve- 
 leen, who was engaged with a bracelet-clasp which 
 had caught, with surprising pertinacity, in a fall 
 of precious lace. It interested her, apparently, rather 
 more than them. 
 
 Violet rose, went across to her father in the shade, 
 and extending a finger to him, said in English — 
 
 "Was it enough?" 
 
 " More than enough," said he, taking the finger. 
 " I had intended, before you moved, to ask you to 
 play me a Berceuse." 
 
 " A Berceuse I " She threw back her head and 
 laughed, — her pretty, rare laugh. Eveleen glanced 
 once in their direction, as though scenting conspiracy. 
 Dr. Ashwin was smiling too. 
 
 M. de Fervolles, straining to follow English, 
 wondered if it could be he, the father, after all, 
 to whom the " Invocation to Revolt " had been 
 addressed. The Marquis trusted not. The Marquis 
 was of Miss Maud Gibbs' opinion that such young 
 girls should be innocent completely of their elders' 
 affairs. He quite longed for a moonlight sylph such 
 as this to be unconcerned, — but one could never tell 
 
404 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 in this amazing country. He paid close attention 
 to the proceedings of the pair while he waited for 
 Eveleen to notice him again. 
 
 Dr. Ashwin, at her approach from the piano, had 
 inconspicuously laid aside his cigarette. Violet took 
 it up daintily between two iingers, and replaced it 
 whence it had been taken. It was prettily done, 
 and M. de Fervolles quite wished it had been he. 
 
 " One's so gorgeous to-night," confided Claude, 
 in explanation. He touched her shimmering drapery 
 curiously. 
 
 " That's Alice," confided Violet. " Alice, as you 
 said, is an opinionated girl. She simply trampled 
 the one I meant to wear, and kicked it aside." 
 
 The Marquis was astonished to learn what the 
 English bear from their servants. 
 
 " I had meant to keep this for my birthday," 
 Violet proceeded, her back still turned to the visitor. 
 
 " Oh, have another for your birthday," said 
 Claude. 
 
 " No, Father, no. I can-not afford it." 
 
 "White," said Claude. "Not quite white. 
 W^hiteish." 
 
 "Dirty?" said Violet. 
 
 " Pearl-colour," said the Marquis gently behind. 
 
 " There," said Violet, without turning. " M. de 
 Fervolles knows the trade expression. Shall I make 
 Myself a pearl-coloured dress, Father? I am start- 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 405 
 
 ing work early to-morrow, you know. And it comes 
 cheaper, considerably." 
 
 A pause. \'iolet had cornered him. He sought 
 desperately for a response. 
 
 " I will order one of the hrm," he said at last, 
 " if Miss Alice will undertake the commission." 
 
 A second pause. He had cornered Violet. Len- 
 noxes had evidently conquered him, and her faith 
 in Alice was his. She longed to express her senti- 
 ments of exaltation, and to make him feel them: 
 but the company behind was not quite suitable. 
 
 "Claude," said Eveleen at this juncture, holding 
 out her wrist. She had only by her fumbling made 
 confusion worse confounded in the quarrel between 
 her fine lace, and the bracelet-chain. 
 
 " Permit me," said the Marquis eagerly; but Eve- 
 leen, slightly pouting, still held her hand towards 
 Claude. She knew exactly what men were good for, 
 that expression said, and might be left to judge. Her 
 husband rose after a languid instant, and approached 
 to her service with a smile. 
 
 He recognised at least, if de Fervolles did not, 
 that there had been not the least conscious coquetry 
 in the movement. The lace and the bracelet merely 
 represented one of those delicate complications of 
 life, needing patience with soft threads, and knowl- 
 edge of fine gold, to disentwine successfully. The 
 Ashwins possessed these qualities, and Eveleen really 
 
4o6 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 could not spare the necessary attention. She did not 
 object, of course, by the way, to the operator's fine 
 touch upon her arm. 
 
 She shook her wrist when it was loose, without 
 thanking him, and returned to her desultory dialogue 
 with the guest. 
 
 " It is no use," said Violet, at her most high- 
 strung, to Alice later, "it is no use talking to me 
 about Mother. Mother is Divine. I saw Father 
 thinking so at the same time as I did. We are all 
 perfect pigmies, — grimacing pigmies, — compared 
 with her. . . . She put the Marquis out four 
 times, — I counted, darling, — by missing his point 
 altogether. I am really sorry for the man, some- 
 times." 
 
m 
 
 THE BIRTHDAY 
 
 None of the Glasswell contingent, except the Rector 
 and Charles, came to Violet's birthday party. The 
 Rector, on the arrival of the invitation, left his 
 wife to choose her line; and Mrs. Gibbs, by now 
 most resolutely on Violet's side, wrote a letter so 
 keenly worded, that even Eveleen could not pretend 
 to misunderstand it ; and which made her very angry 
 indeed for the three minutes before she burnt it. 
 After that Mrs. Gibbs returned calmly to her occu- 
 pation; though she admitted, from the educational 
 point of view, that it would be good for Maud to go. 
 The Rector actually stayed in the house, since 
 the dance was to be late, and Eveleen saw no way 
 to avoid him. She did not care for Mr. Gibbs, 
 which was ungrateful, considering his rapt interest 
 in her. He belonged, as he had said himself, to the 
 " other party," the party that had tried to dissuade 
 Claude from his marriage; and Eveleen, calm as 
 she was, never forgave such things. She disliked 
 the girls too, vaguely, — Margery's prettiness and 
 
4o8 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 natural elegance always vexed her; but fortunately 
 Margery was detained, or detained herself for 
 Robert's sake, at Newnham College; and Maud, 
 despite all the cunning persuasions of her circle, and 
 a new dress, turned shy at the ultimate moment and 
 refused to move. 
 
 Various other people failed as well, — young 
 Brading was in mourning, and the heir of the Der- 
 ings, a likely youth and fond of Eveleen, had quar- 
 relled with the Marquis de Fervolles at Bering Park, 
 and was sulking rather badly. His brother Bill 
 came, though, and his sister Joan, — a young person 
 of breezy spirits and a high voice who had a mission 
 for " waking up " the world, only counteracted in 
 this particular house by a reverential awe for Violet's 
 cleverness. 
 
 Of the guests, Mr. Gibbs came first, towards seven 
 o'clock, and found Violet and Claude in the drawing- 
 room. Charles, who arrived shortly after, had been 
 gracefully asked by the family to meet his step- 
 father, and would far sooner have avoided the 
 necessity. 
 
 Charles was recovering slowly from his infatua- 
 tion, but, in his convalescent state, he felt nervous of 
 everj^body, and shy above all of a chance meeting 
 with Alice. He took precautions on the present occa- 
 sion, and made enquiries, discovering from Miss 
 Lennox finally, to his great relief, that though Mrs. 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 409 
 
 Peacock had for some time returned from her honey- 
 moon, she was very much engaged at home; for 
 Abel and Alice had, by a lucky stroke, got the old 
 house at Brixton off their hands, and had taken 
 another at Wimbledon, near which locality Abel 
 had his new garden. Thus Alice, what with house- 
 moving, and her mother still in hospital, was much 
 taken up, and was only to drop in at Harley Street, 
 according to Miss Lennox, to dress Miss Ashwin, 
 early. 
 
 Charles trusted he was not early, and so had 
 safely escaped all chance of seeing her. But, alas I 
 when he came, the daughter of the house was still 
 too evidently not dressed. On the contrary, she 
 still wore the artist's pinafore of blue linen, which 
 she had donned to finish the decorations in the hall, 
 and thus enveloped and disguised, she was sitting 
 on the Rector's knee, and being teased by him with 
 great complacency. 
 
 "Oh, Charles, how nice," said Violet: gave him 
 two fingers, and turned to her uncle again. 
 
 And this leads us to the most painful part of our 
 confession of the revised circumstances with which 
 we have to deal. Violet was not, at this period, 
 treating Charles very nicely. She did not even give 
 him the close and comforting attention, the soft 
 sympathy, upon which he had quite learned to count, 
 during the early part of their acquaintance. She 
 
410 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 never supplied him with words or meanings when he 
 hesitated. She never softened by a sweet suggestion 
 the attacks of others. She went through all the 
 forms with him pleasantly, but just as she would 
 have done with any other man. She was infinitely 
 more cordial and mischievous, Charles noticed with 
 surprised disgust, with her father's secretary than she 
 was with him. She seemed to be looking a little 
 beyond him all the time, and only reminding herself 
 at intervals of a cousinly duty. In short, she ap- 
 peared to have studied Charles very completely, ex- 
 tracted the last crumb of interest and amusement the 
 perusal could afford, and dropped the book. This 
 is an exasperating situation for a man ; especially if 
 the perusal has been abandoned, too evidently, for 
 that of other and newer publications. 
 
 Agitating reports eddied about London, and came 
 to Mr. Sho veil's ears through friends, of this match 
 or that being under consideration, of this title or that 
 being destined by the astonishingly successful doctor 
 for his only daughter. There was a Frenchman, for 
 instance, Charles heard of recently for the first time. 
 He examined his stepfather and Mr. Warden both 
 cautiously on the subject, and found they had both 
 known of this aspirant — Mr. Warden of several 
 others as well, — for ages past, and taken him quite 
 for granted. Their general attitude of thinking 
 nothing too high for Violet was surprising to Charles. 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 41 1 
 
 He had the misfortune to meet the Frenchman 
 at the Ashwins', betrayed an inadequate knowledge 
 of the tongue he used, and despised him bitterly in 
 consequence. Yet the Frenchman could not be said 
 to be a lout, did look at Violet rather often, and 
 made remarks to her to which she seemed to find 
 response worth while. Very often, now, she never 
 responded to Charles' sallies at all; and sometimes 
 when she did, she gave him to understand he was 
 rather childish. 
 
 Yet he was talking better, if anything, than in the 
 spring; for he felt a responsible man now, held a 
 conspicuous post in a celebrated publishing house, 
 belonged to a literary club, — and was understood 
 by several of his male acquaintance to have been 
 through a love affair. It must rapidly be appended, 
 however, to Charles' credit, that though the Eccles 
 affair would have been a real asset to his standing, 
 in the opinion of a number of these new acquaint- 
 ances, he did not boast of it at all. He " made a 
 point of never alluding," indeed, according to the 
 best standards of Alice's Brixton fraternity. So he 
 had learned something by the hot experience, at least. 
 
 Violet, it seemed on his entrance, was on the 
 still vexed question of a gift she had received that 
 morning. 
 
 " Simply suicidal, isn't if? " Charles overheard in 
 her bitter tone. " No efforts of mine will save him 
 
412 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 now. I told the kitchen to-day that, economically 
 speaking, I cut the rope. What do you suppose, 
 Uncle Arthur, I can do with a thing like that*? " 
 
 " Wear it," the Rector suggested. 
 
 " Once in ten years, perhaps," said Violet. " And 
 in between*? " 
 
 " Put it in your mother's box," said Claude from 
 the rear. Violet did not hear him, apparently, 
 
 "I shall have to wear them to-night, of course; 
 but I shall be miserable all the time. Wretched I 
 And nobody will look at me, myself^ I mean, Uncle 
 Arthur, at all. People who present jewellery never 
 seem to consider that. And there is Alice's frock — 
 just divine, as even Mother admits; and I do want 
 to advertise the firm. You know something of ad- 
 vertisement. Uncle Arthur " 
 
 "Do I?" said the Rector, panic-stricken. 
 "How?" 
 
 "Well, — missions and such things. Don't you*? 
 Take Bazaars. Your reason will tell you that if you 
 want to advertise, at a Church Bazaar, a handker- 
 chief worked by Maud, you would not stick the 
 CuUinan diamond just beside it. However preju- 
 diced in favour, I mean, the eye would slip aside." 
 
 " So would the diamond, very soon," said the 
 Rector. " After all, I should not be wretched long." 
 
 " Charles " said Violet, making the gentle- 
 man her father was addressing start, — " Charles has 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 413 
 
 offered to be a detective, and keep his eyes fixed 
 firmly on me to-night. But goodness, I'd never 
 trust Charles at that, would you? " 
 
 Both the Rector and the doctor laughed at this 
 sally, and Charles looked even more than necessarily 
 out of countenance. He thought it almost pert, 
 privately, — from a girl. 
 
 " Ladies owning pearls had far better have a legal 
 protector," said the Rector. " I mean to say, of 
 course, a professional one." 
 
 " I have — not — quite decided," said Miss Ash- 
 win, with a nice air of balancing the suggestion. 
 
 Charles wished his stepfather would not. His 
 own family at least might show more feeling for 
 him. The only person present with any considera- 
 tion at all was the last he would have expected, — 
 his host. Dr. Ashwin, of whom he had been 
 infinitely more terrified than anybody, when he 
 summoned his scattered courage for the first time 
 after his divagation, and called at the house, had 
 been extremely careful with him; really anxious, 
 one would have said, to make his acquaintance. It 
 was not unfathomable, really, since Lucas Warden 
 had warned him of Charles' unpretentious talents, 
 probably; and the doctor wished, with the best 
 intentions, to induce him to shine. Charles hoped 
 he had pleased Dr. Ashwin in various short and 
 carefully-studied conversations, but he never knew. 
 
414 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 When Lucas Warden was there as well, Dr. Ashwin 
 generally answered Warden, comprising Charles in 
 the answer, as it were. When they were tete-a-tete 
 he frequently looked beyond Mr. Shovell, at other 
 people, while he replied. He was watching his 
 daughter, and listening to her, evidently, all the 
 time he discussed the newer publications with 
 Charles, People who did two things at once, both 
 well, were foreign to Charles' experience and his 
 sympathy; and he trusted that Violet had not 
 inherited a tendency to these rather cheap theatrical 
 effects. 
 
 Yet he began to doubt it, as soon as the talk 
 became general. She was certainly witty, — up to 
 her father again and again. They had the air of 
 two good fencers, well in practice, and regarded as a 
 game, it was pretty enough to attend to. It was 
 when it became warfare, that Charles objected; for 
 women, as a general rule, should never take the 
 buttons off their foils, or at least with a male oppo- 
 nent. They are known to pink one another, that is 
 a favourite witticism at their expense. 
 
 Violet was excited, of course, as birthday ladies 
 often are. The pearls, or her uncle's unaccustomed 
 presence under the roof, may have been responsible, 
 — or even the somewhat crushing labours in store. 
 For Violet, as usual, had the principal burden of 
 the entertainment and the arrangements for it 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 415 
 
 upon her shoulders. Her mother considered, no 
 doubt, that she had done quite enough in originating 
 the idea of the party. Genius as a rule originates, 
 and ordinary restless talent carries out the scheme. 
 Beyond the first inspiration of it, Eveleen's efforts 
 for the great occasion had been confined to giving 
 up the long drawing-room to dancers : and to vetoing, 
 beyond any further question, certain guests. Violet 
 and Claude, she supposed, could do the rest between 
 them. 
 
 Mrs. Ashwin herself came in before the discussion 
 could become too dangerously clever, and put an 
 end to all danger of the kind by her appearance quite 
 successfully. Eveleen was a resplendent vision, with 
 several shimmering scarves disguising her bare throat 
 and arms, for she was dressed. The Rector and 
 Charles rose in haste, and Violet was dislodged from 
 her uncle's knee. Eveleen greeted her husband's 
 connections vaguely, and looked about the room. 
 
 " Oh, there they are," she said, without appearing 
 to address her daughter. " The girl reminded me. 
 She said you would never have the sense to lock 
 them, which seems to show her judgment. You had 
 better take them up, that is, if you ever mean to dress 
 at all. I am inclined to think you don't deserve to 
 have such things, if you can't take better care of 
 them." 
 
 " Oh, Mother, dear," said Violet. " The tail of 
 
4i6 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 Father's eye was on them constantly; and Mr. 
 Shovell, a perfect watch-dog, is about." 
 
 " You mean they are on the table all the time? " 
 cried Mr. Gibbs. " Give me a private view this 
 instant, you hussy, or I decamp." 
 
 His brother-in-law reached the case, and the 
 milky glory of Violet's pearls was disclosed to him. 
 The Rector was properly impressed, with an un- 
 clerical whistle. Charles gazed at Mrs. Ashwin 
 fascinated, and made remarks mechanically for her 
 daughter's ear. He had never seen her at night 
 before, and Eveleen was far, far best at night. 
 
 " Ripping," he said with unction of the necklace. 
 " Put them on." 
 
 " I couldn't over this," said Violet, touching the 
 cumbering pinafore. " Til show you on Mother, 
 though," she added. " W^ait." 
 
 Turning about, she flung the little string adroitly 
 round her mother's neck, before she could resist: 
 and Eveleen did not resist seriously. She took it, 
 one might have said, as a natural attention, and 
 stood to be looked at, twisting the pearls into 
 comfort with one white hand; for they clasped her 
 splendid throat more closely than Violet's, and a 
 pearl or two more would have been necessary, as 
 the wearer had already decided at leisure, to give 
 the whole it's just effect. 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 417 
 
 The effect was quite sufficient for its immediate 
 audience, however. 
 
 " It's a pity not to leave them there," murmured 
 Violet, after a few seconds' breathless pause. " Isn't 
 it, Mr. Shovell?" 
 
 Poor Charles blushed scarlet : and simultaneously, 
 Dr. Ashwin caught his daughter, pinafore and all, 
 from behind, and drew her back upon his knee. 
 
 " You are growing shrewish," he said in his soft 
 staccato. " I cannot have you so to-day. Mr. 
 Shovell has something which he longs to give you, 
 if you would be, for one moment, kind." 
 
 Violet's eyes, rather wild to-night, came to rest 
 on Charles' face, just a passing flash of attention. 
 Then she glanced upward. 
 
 " Very good," she said. " But you have got my 
 hand." 
 
 The doctor extended the right hand he had 
 captured; and Charles, still blushing, laid a little 
 book upon it. 
 
 " Oh," said Violet, having looked at the author's 
 name upon the book. A pause. " All your youthful 
 follies confessed*? " she queried lightly. 
 
 " None of them," said Charles. 
 
 Looking down, flushed and conscious, he was 
 handsome, and Dr. Ashwin had a weakness for 
 handsome youths. When Charles was furthest 
 
4i8 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 from trying to attract, his attractions not infre- 
 quently surprised the doctor. Claude was grateful 
 when this occurred, for he had made it part of his 
 serious business, for some time past, to like Charles; 
 and as his business covered a wide field, and all 
 sections of it had weighed doubly upon his shoulders 
 of late, it was soothing to be spared even a small 
 department of the general labour of life. 
 
 Violet glanced at a few dates, prefixed to the 
 poems, casually. She had an excellent memory for 
 dates, as Charles had remarked before this. 
 
 " Who found you out? " she demanded. " Mr. 
 Warden?" 
 
 "I showed him a few old ones: and he said he 
 would have the rest. I couldn't help it, really." 
 
 " Any left out? " said Violet. 
 
 "Quite a lot," retorted Charles. He added 
 huffily, — " You can refuse it if you like." 
 
 "Can I, Father, — after this conversation?" 
 
 " Certainly not," said Dr. Ashwin. " You are 
 flattered, — and will treasure it, and thank the 
 author." 
 
 " Thank you, Charles," said Violet. " It's rather 
 — funnier than the pearls." And such was the tone, 
 that Charles was satisfied. He had at least surprised 
 her. That is the very first stage of all in love, of 
 course ; but then, he had long since been taught that 
 he had to go back, — right back, — to the beginning. 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 419 
 
 II 
 
 A terrible tragedy, — as it seemed, — was the next 
 thing to occur. Francis, the footman, looking very 
 solemn indeed, rather portentous, came in with a 
 note on a salver, and stopped beside his master. 
 V^ery much at his ease, the doctor opened and read 
 the note, over Violet's recumbent head. 
 
 " Good, I will come," he said. " Tell Joliffe." 
 
 " Oh, Father, dearest," the girl cried, starting and 
 clinging to him. " Not to-night." 
 
 " Necessity knows no law," he said. " I'm sorry, 
 Pussy." 
 
 He put her aside with decision, and got up. He 
 dropped a remark as he passed his wife, — the name 
 of a house, — which, low as it was spoken, sent a 
 thrill through all the room, — even, sad to admit, 
 the Socialist Rector. 
 
 " Really, Claude, you are going it," he murmured, 
 protesting. " Don't let us detain you." 
 
 " You couldn't," said his brother-in-law, with a 
 glance. " It's serious." 
 
 " It's the second time," Eveleen was roused to 
 observe, when he had gone. 
 
 She did not appear the least complacent, merely 
 offered it for their information: that, as Violet had 
 said to Alice, was her secret. For no one who knew 
 Mrs. Ashwin at all, that is, who took the trouble 
 
420 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 to follow her actions, could doubt that the kind of 
 thing gratified her really. Eveleen's beautiful ex- 
 terior was a perfect non-conductor of all warmth 
 of emotion, whether creditable or otherwise. Anger 
 she showed best, and that was what her daughter 
 called " white " anger, a kind of still transfusing 
 glow. On this occasion she betrayed neither ap- 
 proval nor apprehension, though there was room 
 for both. She seemed quite oblivious, for instance, 
 of any little inconvenience that might ensue from 
 Claude's desertion of his accustomed post, in the 
 social campaign she was contemplating. The 
 chances were, of course, that he had seen about every- 
 thing beforehand, or was engaged in seeing now 
 before he left. The chances were such, considering 
 his daughter was closely concerned in the present 
 instance, that Eveleen took them tranquilly; and, 
 having looked the remaining occupants of her recep- 
 tion-room over at ease, moored herself temporarily, 
 for want of better, by Charles. 
 
 Altogether, few women of Mr. Shovell's acquaint- 
 ance could have appeared less put out by the en- 
 forced detention of a distinguished husband on an 
 occasion of note than Mrs. Ashwin. It was no doubt 
 unselfishness, Charles thought, and she was consid- 
 ering the doctor's advantage rather than her own. 
 She was perfectly saintly about it, in Charles' view, 
 and, like the adroit hostess she naturally was, let the 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 423 
 
 Marquis de Fervolles, an accomplished man of a 
 certain age who knew the habits of the house, take 
 her husband's place in upholding her, both before 
 and after the arrival of the guests. 
 
 The Rector was amazed: and it took much to 
 amaze him, for he was, for all his simplicity, a man 
 of considerable experience. Mr. Gibbs had thought 
 Claude looking ill, and anxious, and strained, and 
 all that a man who was making wealth and a high 
 position hand over hand for his wife, should not 
 have been allowed by that wife to look. She must, 
 he thought, be doing it out of natural deviltry, for 
 there was no possibility, — family bias apart, — of 
 comparing the two men. The Frenchman was 
 barely good-looking, barely well-made, and quite 
 superficially clever. His wit was a thin varnish, his 
 breeding, to those with any instinct for real civility, 
 did not exist. Upon titles and such unpractical ap- 
 pendages Mr. Gibbs, knowing Eveleen, did not 
 dwell. Nor had M. de Fervolles, by any means, the 
 manner of the conqueror that is said to mean so 
 much to woman. He was restless and jealous, he 
 gnawed his fingers, as the plays would say: as 
 though even now, at this obviously late stage of 
 affairs, he was not entirely sure of her nor of his own 
 position. The whole thing looked ugly to Mr. Gibbs 
 observing it, and worse for its setting; tor, quite 
 
420. A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 apart from all question in the case of attraction or 
 advantage, the fact remained prominent that such 
 an exhibition, on an occasion deliberately designed 
 for the diversion of youth, was odiously out of place. 
 The Rector, with his instinct towards the young and 
 their rights, in revelry above all, and with his sterner 
 standard of a generation back in the matter of 
 example, felt offended in his own person, for the 
 entire company. 
 
 The only thing that amazed him more than 
 Eveleen's behaviour, was her daughter's accustomed 
 and far from cynical toleration of it. He had 
 not realised that at Glasswell. He thought that, 
 with a not uncommon weakness of her age, the girl 
 was posing a little, exaggerating romantically an 
 ordinary, if unfortunate situation. He could not 
 see now that it was the least ordinary, or that Violet's 
 rendering of it, even as hinted so long since in the 
 rose-garden to his sceptical stepson, was exagger- 
 ated in the least. He was so genuinely perplexed 
 in his search for any possible motive Eveleen could 
 have in such an apparently suicidal course of action 
 that, had it not been for Violet's easy attitude 
 towards it, and that of certain other young people 
 in the gathering as well, he would have been driven 
 to believe she was doing it to exasperate him 
 personally, to tease a long-recognised opponent. 
 For that she stored grudges and repaid them at 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 423 
 
 leisure, he and Margaret had long since had reason 
 to know. He only wished — he wished with all his 
 heart for Claude — that it might prove so : but he 
 doubted it, sadly. 
 
 It was a vastly pretty spectacle he had beneath 
 his eyes, as he stood watching the black throng meet 
 the white in the embowered hall, melt into it rapidly,, 
 ' — for all were friends together on the occasion, 
 — and spread airily in couples about the rooms. The 
 numbers, owing to failures of importance whom Mrs. 
 Ashwin's exquisite standard would not replace, were 
 not excessive; but her choice had been apt in one 
 way, for all were equally matched; and the extra 
 space in the ballroom, which the party's reduction 
 permitted, added to the general grace and freedom 
 of movement, naturally. The Rector, having Mr. 
 Warden and a number of Violet's other mature 
 admirers to support him, chaffed, flirted, flattered, 
 and forgot his dignity to his heart's content, since 
 he was encouraged on all sides to do so. But his 
 persistent enigma would not leave him, and he was 
 adding unconsciously to the evidence upon it, all 
 the time. 
 
 His observations of the dancers soon picked out 
 the two young Derings, habitues of a fast house 
 themselves, as he gathered by their behaviour, and 
 gay, unguarded remarks. He listened to nothing 
 deliberately, but Lady Joan especially, the blurting 
 
424 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 type of girl just out of the schoolroom, uttered words 
 in his hearing to her partners, that left no doubt in 
 his mind how the pair he was concerned with were 
 spoken of abroad. 
 
 " He reminds me of a monkey on a stick," said 
 Lady Joan. " And she's had him a bit too long, 
 you know, and just makes him jump now and then." 
 
 " Or a butterfly on a pin," said her equally lively 
 partner. " That wriggles rather better, you know. 
 Poor chap." And they were whirled off into the 
 melee. 
 
 So it was the Marquis the gilded youth of London 
 pitied — not Claude. It was a small consolation, 
 though the Rector wondered how long it was since 
 Claude had had his era of pity. 
 
 At a certain stage of the evening's affairs, he 
 turned away from the door where he had been 
 watching, almost in disgust, and aware of sudden 
 weariness. He retreated finally, having sought in 
 vain another retiring-place, to his brother-in-law's 
 small study, out of the passage at the back of the 
 hall. The secretary Ford was there, all in his 
 war paint, for he had escaped an instant from a 
 partner on the upper floor, to answer a dispatch just 
 arrived by the evening post. Mr. Gibbs enquired 
 if he was interrupting, and then if the study figured 
 as a sitting-out room, and Mr. Ford laughed a nega- 
 tive to both questions. 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 425 
 
 " I kept a fire here," he observed, " in case the 
 doctor preferred to lie low when he came in. He 
 will be late, probably," 
 
 " And is not wanted," suggested the Rector. 
 
 " Except by Miss Ashwin," said the young man, 
 still writing busily, and not raising his eyes. It was 
 evident he was in all the secrets, as indeed was 
 probable enough, since he was a regular inmate. 
 
 "Do you consider Ashv/in is well'?" said Mr. 
 Gibbs, advancing to the fire. Eveleen faced him 
 even here, a magnificent photograph in the centre 
 of the chimney-shelf, doing full justice to the 
 imposing first flood of her beauty. The man she 
 most goaded was still bound, by that miraculous 
 spell of hers, to keep her near, fronting him, even in 
 his working hours. Of all things he had observed 
 that night, that portrait was not the least amazing 
 to Mr. Gibbs. 
 
 " No, sir," Mr. Ford replied to his last question. 
 " I only assume he is well, in my answers to fifty 
 people, every day. No other way for it, unless I 
 want to be chucked. Which I don't," he added 
 calmly. He rang, gave his notes to Francis, excused 
 himself to Mr. Gibbs by the remark that Miss Ash- 
 win was waiting for him, and flew, two steps at a 
 time, up the uncarpeted back stairs. 
 
 Mr. Gibbs, lighting a pipe in his seclusion, re- 
 flected that he was probably a good secretary, since 
 
426 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 Claude had him, certainly a nicely-bred youth and 
 devoted to his chief : yet he was none the less the same 
 " amenable " Ford who went outside his duties on 
 the sly to write Mrs. Ashwin's letters, because he 
 recollected Violet had used the name. In virtue of 
 which considerations, Eveleen was in spite of all a 
 marvellous woman : and Henrietta at home was still 
 imjust. 
 
 It was after midnight when Claude returned, and 
 he made straight for his study. He came in as a 
 man does who seeks solitude, but when he saw the 
 Rector smoking by the iire, his expression changed by 
 a mere fraction — nothing to matter. The recording 
 angel should have noted that in Mr. Gibbs' favour. 
 
 "Bored already, Arthur"?" he said brusquely. 
 " Hasn't Violet been behaving^ " 
 
 " Perfectly," said Mr. Gibbs. " Violet is leading 
 my stepson a dog's life, for which I shall be bound 
 to thank her hereafter. I think he rather thought he 
 was going to fill up her programme. He practically 
 hinted as much to me after dinner. He is such an 
 irreducibly sanguine scamp." 
 
 " What's he got? " said Claude, without a smile. 
 
 " One waltz and an extra : a very doubtful extra, 
 Claude, indeed. Rather hard lines, don't you 
 think?" 
 
 " She knows best. I wouldn't swear it was hard 
 lines." 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 427 
 
 "She suffered then?" The father nodded. 
 " More than necessary, probably? " He shrugged. 
 
 " I never thought myself her fix was serious," 
 pursued the Rector. " What about yours? " 
 
 There was a prolonged silence, and with his habit 
 of admiration of the younger man, he was almost 
 sorry he had attempted it. He was the other party, 
 and the Ashwins a bitterly proud stock. Also he 
 was a priest; and priests, as none knew better or 
 said more often than Mr. Gibbs, are pestilently 
 presumptuous often, by a mere habit of the trade, 
 quite without their proper sphere of influence. 
 Claude was without his, naturally, but the Rector 
 loved him: and that, he believed, excused the 
 venture. 
 
 Nothing happened for a considerable time, and 
 then the younger man turned half away, a move- 
 ment like a wince which concealed his face from his 
 companion. 
 
 " She's playing with me," he groaned, his arm 
 contracting and his hand clenching on the shelf 
 against which he leant. " I shall have to give in, 
 Arthur. I shan't be able to get through." 
 
 "Have you evidence?" said the Rector. 
 
 " I could get it — so they say." 
 
 "But won't, eh?" He rose and grasped the 
 nearer arm. " Keep it up, Claude," he said quietly, 
 " till V^iolet is married. It won't be so long to wait. 
 It cannot be wrong, surely, to think of that." 
 
428 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " And after her — the deluge. Very well." After 
 another pause, he dropped his arm from the shelf 
 and turned again. " I must go up," he remarked, 
 looking hard at the Rector, which was his habit when 
 he was shy. 
 
 " Rubbish, you need not. You always think you 
 are indispensable. I tell you, the girl's a perfect 
 hostess; I only wish my little coward at home could 
 see. I never saw such natural ease, — allowing for 
 its being unnatural, I mean. Now, see here, young 
 man, — have you dined? " 
 
 " I have, Arthur, — particularly well. Do you 
 imagine I neglect my food? Evie would be having 
 a pleasant time as a widow if I did. Are you 
 coming or not? Very good, — lazy brute. The best 
 cigars are in that locker. There's the key, and don't 
 let Ford get hold of it. He thinks this is his room, 
 you know, and it's mine. . . . And keep up 
 the fire, will you? I shall want it later on." 
 
 " I shall let it out," observed the Rector, sinking 
 back upon his comfortable chair. " It's an hour past 
 my bedtime, anyhow. I never knew anything like 
 the hours you place-hunting parvenus keep." 
 
 Claude, on the verge of going, stopped at the 
 door. 
 
 " I say," he said, with a peculiar expression. 
 " What do you bet I don't knock that fellow out 
 before the evening's over?" 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 429 
 
 " Nothing," said the Rector piously. " Betting is 
 against my principles, I am thankful to say." 
 
 His brother-in-law laughed, and disappeared; and 
 Mr. Gibbs contented himself with saying, " Fool! " 
 to Eveleen's picture. For which flat defiance of a 
 scriptural precept we may trust he was not damned. 
 
IV 
 
 INAUGURATES REVOLT 
 
 But the evening was far from over yet, even for 
 the exhausted Rector. That subtle spark in Claude's 
 eye portended small peace for others, as he might 
 have recollected if he had not been so sleepy; for he 
 had suffered by it, himself, in days of old. 
 
 The master of the house passed up the ball-room, 
 slowly of necessity, for the dance was ending, and he 
 moved against a growing current issuing to the hall. 
 He was greeted on all sides as he went, and replied 
 neatly and indifferently, in his fashion. He could 
 guess very well what the bright, amused gaze of 
 several of these young creatures upon him implied; 
 for Claude was far nearer to the present generation 
 in spirit than the Rector, and he gave the sharpness 
 of youth its due. He was not compassionated, at 
 least; it was merely that the sight of him, at that 
 juncture, amused the company. Dr. Ash win was 
 perfectly willing to amuse his guests by such simple 
 means, or indeed by any other means in his power. 
 He proceeded at leisure to do so. 
 
 Violet called to him as he passed, through the 
 melting wreaths of the dance. " Father, is that 
 you? I have kept the next, — fourteen." 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 431 
 
 " I am not dancing," he replied, and pushed 
 steadily on his way. 
 
 " Oh, you horror," cried Violet after him. 
 " Mother is saying that too." 
 
 It was faint, sweet consolation, like so many of 
 the utterances of that voice. She had been refusing 
 the importunate, then, as she had done at Bering, 
 and he had still his opportunity. He could not 
 discover her, at first, but soon tracked her to an 
 alcove, where she was talking, idly in her manner, 
 to another woman. This strange fact led his eyes 
 to de Fer voiles, who stood at no great distance, 
 flagrantly neglecting the girl at his elbow, Lady 
 Joan. 
 
 Claude bowed to Lady Joan, and looked past her 
 companion. Then he waited tranquilly also, for his 
 wife to turn round. She was clearly bent on annoy- 
 ing somebody, for she failed to do so. When the 
 new dance opened, and her neighbour, claimed by a 
 partner, rose to join it, Eveleen remained, her head 
 at the same angle, pouting just visibly, as all the 
 world but herself swung into action again. She 
 looked discontented, if not lonely, at the moment, as 
 a successful hostess should not look. Claude walked 
 into her line of vision carelessly. 
 
 " Come on, Evie," he said, as a schoolboy might, 
 holding his arm in a certain manner. He hardly 
 looked at her in speaking: nor was his tone appeal- 
 
432 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 ing, rather like a sharp command. If she resented it, 
 or even remarked it was deliberate, he was " done," 
 of course ; for the Marquis, and the mischievous Joan 
 just parting from him, were both within ear-shot of 
 the challenge. 
 
 She did neither. Eveleen heeded tones and such 
 details very little, if a chance offered to her taste, 
 and he had struck the psychological moment. She 
 had really not perceived him, and his voice startled 
 her a trifle. He copied deliberately an old manner, 
 which she had by heart, so that her actions followed 
 it mechanically. She was bored, as he guessed, and 
 the other man, useful at times, had not learnt when 
 he must let her be before the world; for there were 
 important women present, whose favour she hap- 
 pened to need. He should have known this, of course, 
 without her telling him: as Claude always did. 
 
 M. de Fer voiles, as a fact, never quite fathomed 
 Eveleen's character. He made the mistake of taking 
 her for a slightly different type of woman much 
 more familiar to him, which she was not. 
 
 She rose, her delicate scarves and their delicate 
 scents dropping off her. She hesitated a moment, but 
 only to arrange the long folds of her skirt; and while 
 she stood so at his side, her eyes like his were on 
 the twisting throng. They were a striking and well- 
 contrasted couple, as, in that short interval, the 
 world had leisure to observe. Then they slid into an 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 433 
 
 opening, with the imperceptible address of natural 
 accord and ancient practice combined, and Eveleen 
 shut her eyes. It was long since she had danced, 
 and longer still since she had paired with Claude, 
 whom she had married, among a few other things, 
 for his dancing, when she was twenty years old. 
 She was barely forty now, and quite as lithe and 
 lovely as ever she had been. She had refused scores 
 of partners during the season past, out of laziness 
 largely: and let herself forget too easily how en- 
 chanting the motion was. 
 
 " Wait," she said at last; and he landed her in a 
 sheltered corner, beneath an open window. It was 
 only a minute's halt for breath-taking, as was 
 evident, for both pairs of eyes were still on the 
 throng, and both, through the veil of that common 
 abstraction, looked markedly elated. The dance 
 changes, as an art, more rapidly than any with the 
 passage of years, but its inner spirit remains the 
 same; and the true worshipper of the goddess, of 
 whatever shade, sex or generation, may be marked 
 by this particular expression. 
 
 He made the movement to recommence, and 
 stopped half-way. 
 
 "Your brooch is loose," he informed her, his 
 eyes on the jewel at her breast. Eveleen felt at it, 
 still looking aside, and then frowned, took it off, 
 and stood holding it uncertainly. 
 
434 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " Broken^ Let's see," said Claude; and by sheer 
 force of habit, she put the httle trinket in his hand, 
 He examined it quickly. It was a beautiful and 
 peculiar stone, in a ring of small diamonds, and 
 nothing that he recognised the least. 
 
 " The catch has gone, I'm afraid," he told her. 
 It's useless." And therewith, with a jerk of wrist, 
 he tossed it straight through the open window into 
 the night. 
 
 "Claude I" she ejaculated. 
 
 Most women would have been furious, but Eve- 
 leen was amused. Quite a few times before during 
 their partnership he had shown himself in this mood, 
 and it had invariably amused her. " Elvish," Mr. 
 Gibbs' word, was the nearest that could express it. 
 He had been dull for a long time, but he had evi- 
 dently waked up. She hardly knew what to expect, 
 and that is stimulating. 
 
 " You shall have another to-morrow," he said. 
 " Come on, we're wasting time." 
 
 She let him take her down the room again, and 
 they stopped, as chance would have it, fronting de 
 Fervolles and Violet, who were framed in a doorway, 
 and looking bored. 
 
 " Father, you absolute abomination ! " the girl 
 exclaimed. " This is the fourteenth, the one I kept 
 for you. And you said you were not dancing." 
 
 " Well, give me a bit of it," he responded easily. 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 435 
 
 " De Fervolles won't mind, and mother will excuse 
 us." 
 
 He said it audibly, in the hearing of a dozen 
 people, and the Marquis could think of nothing 
 whatever to hinder it. The arrangement sounded 
 so friendly and domestic, among this particular 
 group of persons above all, that it was quite inspiring 
 to the ear. So M. de Fervolles had his second partner 
 reft from him, in the course of a single waltz. 
 
 " He made love to me," said Violet softly, when 
 her father had steered her safely out of hearing. 
 " Pique, I suppose, or nothing else to do. I sum- 
 moned the best French I could to say I detested 
 him." 
 
 Claude looked at her, right in the eyes, but he 
 did not answer at all till he had guided her through 
 the next congested place. Then he remarked 
 absently : 
 
 " Does one reverse in these days. Pussy ^ I 
 forget." 
 
 •' What can it matter what one does," scoffed 
 Violet. " Do as you prefer." 
 
 "A fellow doesn't like to be thought old-fash- 
 ioned," he explained. " In that or other things." 
 
 Violet glanced swiftly up at his face. " Not 
 pistols, please," she said, with a little shaken laugh. 
 " I don't like them. I mean, — it's not the ball I 
 mind, it's the bang." 
 
436 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " Where's that quotation from'? " he demanded, 
 after another short interval, in which he seemed to 
 be considering it. 
 
 " A noted dramatist of your era," said Violet. 
 " You ought to know. I'd have found a more 
 recherche one, only you frightened me. Take me 
 back to Mother now." 
 
 " It's all right," he reassured her. " Here we are." 
 
 He brought her into haven at Eveleen's side. De 
 Fervolles, who had been watching their progress 
 with an unwise gloom, rose to make room for her. 
 He had been struck afresh by the elegance of the 
 girl, and the pearls she was wearing had proved, at 
 the close view to which he had treated himself 
 lately, to be magnificent. A big " dot " for this only 
 child was certain; and he was facing his family in 
 France on the morrow, for they had summoned 
 him. 
 
 " The Digbys are going, Mother," said Violet, 
 rather breathless on arrival. " I heard them saying 
 so as we passed. I am afraid we ought to begin 
 hovering near the door." 
 
 So de Fervolles was deprived even of Mrs. Ash- 
 win's familiar enchantment, and had nothing left 
 him but the disconcerting husband. Luckily, his 
 host had button-holed another " type," the pub- 
 lisher Warden; and they approached de Fervolles, 
 chaffing one another, side by side. 
 
 A few minutes later, Dr. Ashwin left the dancing- 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 437 
 
 room rather hastily, and almost ran into his wife, 
 who was posted just round the curtain, having taken 
 leave of some of the more punctual guests. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," he said mechanically. 
 
 " Well," said Eveleen, curling her expressive lip. 
 "Has he accepted? " 
 
 Men are such fools, — but yet amusing, — that 
 characteristic expression of hers always said; for 
 Eveleen was quite intelligent in certain situations, 
 though in appearance, she soared above them. 
 
 " He accepts, yes," said Claude, making her start. 
 " Warden put it so that he could not escape." He 
 glanced from his watch to the clock in the halL 
 " That is three minutes fast," he said. " We are due 
 down there in the basement at one. I give him 
 two-fifty out of five." 
 
 Eveleen stared at him, for she was no sports- 
 woman, and all varieties of balls, — but one, of 
 course, — bored her deeply. But her daughter over- 
 heard, and flushing to the forehead, clasped her 
 hands. 
 
 " Oh, oh," she cried, in her most audible clear 
 tone, swerving to the young couples scattered in the 
 hall. " Father has a match with M. de Fervolles on 
 our table at one o'clock, and he is giving him half, — 
 two hundred and fifty in five hundred up. Scratch 
 that extra, Charles, — do you mind? I must abso- 
 lutely mark for them. Joan, dearest, did you hear 
 
438 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 that'? Father is quite worth watching, I warn you, 
 when his blood is up." 
 
 Lady Joan whistled. " He's a capital player, you 
 know, that Frenchman," she said to the man next 
 her, Mr. Ford. " I saw him take my brother on 
 once, down at Bering. Bill I " She called up, 
 regardless of all forms, to the further sitting-out 
 contingent on the stairs. " I say, Bill ! Didn't the 
 Marquis give you thirty out of a hundred at billiards 
 once, and walk over you*? Well, what's-his-name. 
 Dr. Ashwin, is offering him two-fifty out of five 
 hundred, to be played off to-night; and I shall jolly 
 well cut Tommy for that extra, and go and see the 
 start." 
 
 "Great Scott I" protested an outraged voice 
 above, — for Bill thought himself a very fair player, 
 privately. " I say, you know, — the chap must be 
 off his chump." 
 
 " Quite, Mr. Dering," said Violet desolately; and 
 her mother, whose back was turned to the young 
 party, smiled. 
 
 " I shall back the French one," said William, more 
 discreetly, to the neighbouring man. 
 
 " I'll take you, Dering," called Ford, the secretary, 
 from the hall beneath him. 
 
 " Shovell," said Bill, after short parley over the 
 banisters, "will you hold the stakes? I say, Mrs. 
 Ashwin," he added, " I hope you don't mind this. 
 Does she, Miss Ashwin, do you think? " 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 439 
 
 *' It amuses her," said Violet. 
 
 Violet was calculating, her eyes on the clock; for 
 the last dance on the regular programme was still 
 due, and she was engaged not only for it, but deep 
 into possible and improbable extras. She looked at 
 the name on her dance-card, and then at Mr. Ford 
 across the ball. Her expression, which Charles 
 observed, was of dim entreaty, though a spark of 
 mischief was also visible. 
 
 " Do you mind terribly"? " said Violet's glance. 
 
 " At your service, and his," said Mr. Ford's. And, 
 while he still talked to Lady Joan, he produced a 
 silver pencil, and drew a careful line through the 
 sixteenth dance on his card. 
 
 " How wonderfully perceptive professional people 
 always are," mused Miss Ashwin aloud. " Aren't 
 they, Charles?" She caught his reproachful eyes 
 fixed on her, and moving sylph-like to his side, ran 
 a hand through his arm. Charles could not or would 
 not understand her position with young Ford, the 
 camaraderie based on a common artistic taste, 
 almost daily meetings at meal-times, and the 
 personal devotion they shared for the head of the 
 household. This easy alliance, — which disgusted 
 Eveleen, though her husband never mistook it for 
 a moment, — was outside Mr. Shovell's experience, 
 and lacerating (far too obviously) to his feelings, 
 and Violet in her ready sympathy just realised that 
 
440 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 it might be so, — hence the hand upon his arm. She 
 dropped it the next moment, as she felt the respon- 
 sive thrill. 
 
 " I am thinking of that Man," she confided. " Do 
 you happen to know where he is? " 
 
 " Not without further information," said Charles 
 brilliantly. " I notice none of us here seem quite to 
 do, but there are plenty left." 
 
 " Mr. Gibbs was smoking in the little study when 
 I last saw him. Miss Ashwin," said the intolerable 
 Ford. *' About an hour ago. What's become of 
 him since " 
 
 " You are unable to guess," supplied Violet. 
 " Well, I am going, very quietly, to the little, study 
 to see. Don't wait for me, Charles or anybody, will 
 )^ou'? At this advanced stage, you see, it may take 
 some time. But I will do my best, and, if not too 
 fearfully grumpy, bring him down." 
 
 Her resources proved equal to the occasion, as 
 usual. An aged and drowsy clergyman, with the 
 best will in the world to be grumpy, got no chance. 
 When Mr. Gibbs joined the party in the basement 
 room, howsoever he may have been discovered by 
 Violet, he was broad awake. Betting was hushed, if 
 not abandoned, at his appearance. He was generally 
 known to be " safe," and a jolly fellow. 
 
 " May I mark, Father*? " entreated Violet. " I 
 promise to be careful." 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 441 
 
 " No," he said sharply, for he was nervous. " Not 
 in a match, — you're interested. Warden will mark." 
 
 " And if I assured you," said de Fervolles, who 
 was engaged in clearing the table, over his shoulder, 
 " that Mademoiselle has not been interested in this 
 contest, from first to last? " 
 
 " I should be obliged to tell you that you lie," said 
 Claude. He placed the red ball carefully upon its 
 spot. 
 
 " Are they going to talk French"? " young Bering 
 grumbled. " What that about, Joan? " 
 
 " Only twopenny civilities," said Lady Joan, 
 whose last French governess had departed some time 
 before. 
 
 Violet sank down beside her mother, with quiver- 
 ing lips. Then he was fighting for her I She felt 
 she would die, really, if he were beaten now. And 
 3'et, being a woman, she might do nothing for him. 
 She had to sit there by Eveleen, and watch this 
 monstrous combat, with clasped hands. She pas- 
 sionately envied her mother at that moment, cool, 
 graceful, and unconcerned, — at least apparently. 
 
 " If you are cold, child, fetch a cloak," said Eve- 
 leen; for even she could not fail to observe how 
 the clasped hands near her quivered, and the girl's 
 whole body too. 
 
 Violet shook her head: and, with the usual 
 formalities, the handicap began. 
 
CLAUDE FAILS BRILLIANTLY 
 
 It Started very tamely, as such matches often do. 
 Claude was over-careful, and the whispering of his 
 little audience irritated him. The Marquis' languid 
 air of protest, too, extremely well chosen, drove him 
 beyond himself with fury. His play was nervous, 
 in consequence, and the scoring comparatively slow. 
 M. de Fervolles passed his third hundred long before 
 he touched his first, and seemed to the amateur 
 observation quite a pretty player. Violet was cal- 
 culating steadily, far more steadily than the betting 
 fraternity; the result of which method was, she 
 ceased despairing, before the honourable Bill began. 
 
 For, when the audience least expected it, some- 
 thing changed. Blind justice smiled, or let her 
 scales shift slightly. Claude seized his self-control, 
 and settled into his accustomed manner. After an 
 interval, as he seemed unwilling to stop playing, 
 Violet pushed a chair towards the Marquis. 
 
 " Do sit down," she said sympathetically. " He 
 is so tiresomely deliberate. It must be advancing 
 age." 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 443 
 
 M. de Fervolles omitted to thank her as he obeyed. 
 He was biting his short moustache with visible 
 apprehension. Claude walked about the table, 
 stopping to consider at intervals. He was debarred 
 from recklessness, which he loved: and as Violet 
 observed, took his time. The billiard-balls twinkled 
 obediently to and fro, urged by him and his calcula- 
 tions, meeting occasionally in pleasant little shocks, 
 or shooting into pockets, as if worked, like himself, 
 by springs. By threes and fours and fives, the score 
 crept up meanwhile. He made in that break ninety 
 or thereabouts; and when he finally stopped, the 
 balls were left in cheerless isolation, as though they 
 had said farewell to each other for ever. 
 
 The young people applauded vigorously, but 
 Claude was grave. It might have been called by the 
 irresponsible a bedside manner; nor could there be 
 any doubt whose bedside it was. M. de Fervolles 
 rose with a compliment, but he looked rather tired; 
 for he was no fool in the game, and though he still 
 doubled the doctor's score, he foresaw his fate. He 
 walked round to the top of the table, played, and 
 there was a pause. 
 
 " Rate^'' said Violet to her father, who had turned 
 to investigate the board. " Go in and win, darling," 
 she added breathlessly. Her mother, overhearing, 
 glanced at her, surprised. 
 
 Claude swung about, and saw by his opponent's 
 
444 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 face that it was so. The balls lay well for him, and 
 near together. 
 
 " A miss," he remarked to Lucas, who had not 
 believed his eyes, or ears. "Are you going, Eve- 
 leen*? " he added quickly. 
 
 " I must, if Violet will not," she said, gathering 
 up her scarf to go upstairs. " Don't be too long," 
 she added calmly. " And turn the lights out, when 
 you come." 
 
 The audience stared at her blankly, dumbfounded. 
 Was she human, to leave a match at such a point*? 
 But Mrs. Ashwin went, moving sublimely, and her 
 husband opened the door. He was half-smiling as 
 he returned to the table and, going to the balls, 
 proceeded to shepherd them one-handed, in a series 
 of careless little cannons, into the corner. 
 
 " Oh, pretty," said Mr. Dering hopelessly, as the 
 red ran suddenly in, and the Marquis' ball trickled 
 down the table. " Why didn't you tell me he was a 
 blooming pro*? " — in a wrathful aside to his sister. 
 " You have lost me five pounds by this." 
 
 " The only time I saw him, he played with me," 
 Joan murmured. " And I suppose he was missing 
 then on purpose. So like a man ! " 
 
 Little worth dwelling on happened after this for 
 some time, except that the doctor's score travelled 
 steadily, and M. de FervoUes' did not. Meanwhile, 
 the music of the extra numbers of a prolonged pro- 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 445 
 
 gramme was perfectly audible overhead. Certain 
 wandering malcontents from the melting crowd 
 above came down to seek their partners, and in each 
 case, remained. Two of these frowning gentlemen 
 sat down at Miss Ashwin's feet; but their frowns 
 cleared simultaneously at a brilliant stroke of the 
 doctor's, and they began to whisper together, useless 
 to surmise of what. Lady Joan's Tommy, at her 
 side, no longer even acted resignation, far less 
 offence. The first awe of the spectators was giving 
 way to amusement, generally. 
 
 When he saw his victim in his grasp, close ahead, 
 Dr. Ashwin relaxed his watchful guard, and began 
 to treat himself and the world to a little virtuosity. 
 He did rather foolish things, missing a few he 
 attempted, and scoring some he should not have 
 counted upon simultaneously. He had re-captured 
 his luck, which had not been in attendance at the 
 debut. Mr. Gibbs and Mr. Warden raised their 
 brows at one another, and some of the young men 
 whistled. He missed at last a comparatively easy 
 chance out of pure heedlessness, and handed the 
 cue-rest across to the Marquis with a laugh. 
 
 Then Mrs. Ashwin, having seen the rooms cleared 
 above, returned, bringing a little string of curious 
 guests with her. Spurred by her appearance, de 
 Fervolles made a highly creditable twenty, fluked 
 two, and then missed. After that he retired to the 
 
446 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 side, for his adversary had decided to make up time. 
 
 The master of the house combined his two methods 
 as illustrated in the earlier game, with marked 
 success. He was impeccable, and impossible, and 
 fortunate, and quite ridiculously fast. His elvish 
 blood showed again in some of his attempts, but they 
 all came off. He taught the younger generation how 
 to play billiards, — the noble game his wife called 
 low. 
 
 Mr. Gibbs watched him with pleasure that hardly 
 left room for surprise. Triumph, even the smallest, 
 suited Claude like an accustomed air. He looked 
 his best on the crest of a wave of rising excitement. 
 He did not smile, but all his bearing lightened un- 
 accountably. His movements, always forcible and 
 easy, held the eye. It was more than manifest, to 
 the Rector's paternal observation, that half the 
 maidens in the room had lost their hearts to him. 
 
 Another person noticed this latter phenomenon 
 also. Eveleen observed her husband curiously, set- 
 tling even deeper among the velvet cushions of her 
 low seat. Her look said she found him a grotesque 
 person, but she did not divert her gaze to the gallant 
 
 — and unsuccessful — Marquis. Eveleen detested 
 misfortune, connected with a man. She only wished 
 
 — still — that Claude would be quick, because she 
 was getting sleepy. 
 
 Claude did his utmost to gratify her, as was 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 447 
 
 obvious; but the merest clown, he would have 
 argued, has to calculate his humorous effects. He 
 was calculating, though at fever-heat, — and though 
 nobody present gave him the slightest credit for it. 
 That is the invariable penalty of adopting giddy 
 ideals, in ordinary things. 
 
 Lucas Warden, up to this point serious and 
 dignified as his office demanded, lost his head a little 
 in the last lap of the game; and began to drop little 
 remarks, whenever his friend passed near him, 
 making the girls beyond giggle rather hysterically. 
 Lucas had suffered this treatment so often himself 
 at his present host's hands, that he really enjoyed the 
 spectacle of another's discomfiture. It is to be hoped 
 that Mr. Warden, in this airy mood, scored correctly; 
 but anyhow, Violet was watching him. 
 
 " It's not a dissecting-table, Ashwin," he protested 
 once. " In public, we respect the corpse," 
 
 A little later, struck by the contrast of the player's 
 intent and anxious aspect, with the soaring figures 
 he had just put up, he enquired of those near 
 him — " Who's the man beating now"? It's no one 
 here." 
 
 " His own standard," said Violet. 
 
 It reached her father, and he showed that it did 
 so by a gleam, but even then he did not really smile. 
 He ran out amid frantic acclamation, all the little 
 audience on its feet; and, having glanced at the 
 
448 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 clock above the chimney, asked mute leave of de 
 Fervolles to finish the break, which was a record, as 
 his daughter guessed. The Marquis, leaning against 
 the wall, made a gesture. Violet also looked in that 
 direction, and saw that he had never learned, in his 
 elaborate education, how to take a beating. His 
 was not even a " brilliant failure," it was a sulky 
 one. 
 
 Violet's mother, in the deep seat at her side, had 
 apparently succumbed to its comfort, the tense 
 silence of excitement as the long break approached 
 its close, and the mild heat of the room. The deli- 
 cate click of the balls was soothing, her husband un- 
 usually light of foot, and the hour unmistakably ad- 
 vanced. There was plenteous excuse for a weary 
 hostess; and Eveleen availed herself of all of it. 
 
 *' Oh, Lord," said Bill Bering, when all was over, 
 and the money had changed hands. " W^ell, it was 
 worth it! I never saw such a style I It's just 
 flashy, if the board wasn't there to prove you wrong. 
 And how the deuce, looking at him, is a fellow to 
 know^" 
 
 " ' Who's Who,' would have told you it's his 
 favourite vice," said Charles, who had neither lost 
 nor won, and was consequently calm. 
 
 "Did he back himself, do you suppose?" said 
 Bill. 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 449 
 
 The secretary shook his head. " He told me once 
 he never could: he's so hopelessly self-conscious and 
 downhearted just before. And for the same reason, 
 if I back him, I mustn't let on till it's over. I am 
 going to tell him now." 
 
 " What a peculiar card," said William thought- 
 fully. " Joan, look here : are you ever going to make 
 a move*? They must be about sick of us, and Mrs. 
 Ashwin is asleep. ... I say, keep an eye on 
 that fellow," he added under his breath, as de Fer- 
 volles passed them in the general move. " I want to 
 see how he takes it. It's a fairly complete knock- 
 out." 
 
 " With the left hand," agreed a neighbouring man 
 who overheard. 
 
 " Au revoir. Mademoiselle," said M. de FervoUes, 
 in French, to Violet. " It is an enchantment, the play 
 of M. your Papa. A languorous enchantment, pos- 
 sibly, for those that watch. Madame your mother 
 looks ereintee, — tired to death." 
 
 " How generous of you I " said Violet, her hands 
 clasped carelessly behind her, as she leant against 
 the wall. ''Bon voyage^ Monsieur; I do hope the 
 Channel will behave. . . . Oh, Mr. Ford, good 
 night. What*? Well, I call that ignoble of you, 
 profiting by our agony I Oh yes, he prolonged it on 
 purpose to start with, — so like him I Going, Joan 
 
450 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 dearest? Wasn't it great? Do you terribly mind 
 keeping quiet, for poor Mother? Exhausted, yes: it 
 has been such a strain for us, you know. 
 Oh, hush, Mr. DeringI He has not gone far, and 
 he follows more easily than you'd think." 
 
 De Fer voiles had not gone far, not even out of 
 hearing. He had moved from her to the left, the 
 press still behind him, and stopped opposite Mrs. 
 Ashwin. He was in embarrassment, evidently, what 
 to do. Eveleen was a lovely spectacle as usual, the 
 black velvet cushions all about her making a perfect 
 frame for her soft hair, and dazzling skin. But she 
 was, — or appeared to be, — asleep ; and a guest, 
 even though he should regard himself as a favourite, 
 can hardly go so far as to tread upon his hostess, 
 however dire his need. De FervoUes was in need 
 at that moment, as his expression testified. He 
 could not — would not believe she intended to 
 ignore him, yet he lacked the means to prove whether 
 she did or no. He hung doubtful, wavered, turned, 
 and threw a glance backward. It was most unwise. 
 
 " Look at her, — do look! " muttered Joan to her 
 brother in ecstasy. 
 
 Yet there was little to see. Miss Ashwin, looking 
 her prettiest, was still leaning carelessly against 
 the whitewashed wall, her hands behind her back, 
 her lashes drooping, her eyes turned sidelong upon 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 451 
 
 the Marquis' leave-taking. She was pensively silent, 
 and dense silence reigned among her young acquaint- 
 ance also, the men following the girls, the girls 
 taking the cue from Lady Joan, who had her hand 
 pressed frankly across her mouth. For, as was evi- 
 dent really to the least accomplished observer, an 
 emphatic word, spoken carelessly, might easily have 
 aroused the sleeper. And Violet's circle, charmed 
 to abet her, left that word, by one accord, to be 
 spoken by the Marquis. 
 
 M. de Fervolles, prudently perhaps, did not utter 
 it, at least aloud. Feeling was too evidently against 
 him, and retreat was best. His final, much over- 
 acted, scowl at the defaulting daughter of the house 
 was a natural entertainment to her visitors: and his 
 stiff-legged departure, on any less solemn occasion, 
 would have been convulsing. Yet, to the last, not a 
 soul dared express appreciation, or even congratulate 
 the chief actor, — \'iolet was so graceful and so 
 serious. 
 
 " Do you suppose the beast had insulted her'? " 
 gasped William, quite overawed, to Joan, as they 
 retired up the room. 
 
 " Not a doubt of it," said Joan contemptuously. 
 " Violet is a girl who means all she does always. 
 You can see her meaning it, too." 
 
 " Well, they're a sporting gang, and no mistake," 
 
452 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 said Bill, with a long sigh. " Tell you what, Joan," 
 his feelings resolved themselves upon the door-step, 
 "I've seldom, if ever, enjoyed an evening more." 
 
 And that was a true echo of the opinion of Bill's 
 world, on Violet's birthday entertainment. The 
 Ashwins were, and remained, sky-high in the general 
 estimation. We will not enquire — we dare not — 
 either how far the opinions so freely interchanged 
 among them, the sympathy so frankly expressed, 
 were just or discriminating; nor how far a delicate 
 national feeling may have crept in amongst youth's 
 mingled sentiments, to spur both the interest and 
 the partisanship on the occasion. 
 
 Much later, or rather less early, that night, there 
 was a quiet tap at Violet's door. She went to it, and 
 looked out. 
 
 "Father^ Nobody ill, is there?" she asked, 
 alarmed. 
 
 " May I come in a moment? " he said. 
 
 She let him come. He was carrying a small glass, 
 which he laid suggestively on the chimney-piece 
 beside her. She had been leaning there, reading, 
 when he disturbed her. Violet regarded the glass 
 with neither approval, nor distaste. He had dis- 
 covered that she had not been sleeping lately, and 
 she generally took his prescriptions with an open 
 mind, becoming to the daughter of a celebrity. 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 453 
 
 Having deposited this excuse for intrusion, he 
 apologised, and dropped himself into a chair, resting 
 his head on his hand. 
 
 " No I " Violet exclaimed, " this is not to be borne ! 
 Now, listen to me. You ought to see a good doctor, 
 at once. I shall send a friendly line to Mr. Forrest 
 to-morrow." 
 
 " Let me be," he returned. " It is simply giddi- 
 ness, resulting from a prolonged mental strain. I 
 have been talking to your mother, Violet," 
 
 Violet's hand, which had moved to the little glass, 
 dropped at her side. 
 
 " I gather," said Claude, still low, but detaching 
 the words clearly, " more from your mother's man- 
 ner than from anything she has said, that your sum- 
 mons to revolt came in time." Then, dreading lest, 
 by any inadvertence of his, she should fail com- 
 pletely to understand, — " I mean," he added, " that 
 she did not betray my enforced confidence in her at 
 Dering completely; that she has not given my — 
 our honour completely away." 
 
 He stopped : instantly the girl swung to face him. 
 
 " I congratulate you. Father," she said in his own 
 tone, concentrated and subdued. " How beautifully 
 put, — and how good of you to tell me. Of all the 
 examples of your goodness and courage," she pro- 
 ceeded, warming, " that have ever come before me, 
 this is the most wonderful, I believe." 
 
454 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " It is your due," he said. 
 
 " Just so," said Violet, still concentrated. " Ex- 
 actly. But how many fathers in London would 
 have thought so*? The doctors at number ten and 
 number twenty-seven would probably have smiled 
 enigmatically, and left their miserable girls to 
 guess." She approached him. " You are not, I 
 regret to tell you, a strong, silent man. Your smiles 
 are perfectly comprehensible, more so than any 
 man's I know. Your behaviour on various occasions, 
 but eminently when you staggered to that chair 
 just now, precludes the possibility." 
 
 " What allusion is this^ " he enquired, turning his 
 head, still on his hand. 
 
 " Nothing," said Violet. " Nothing, — I am rav- 
 ing, — relief. It simply amounts to this, really. 
 There is something in the mastery of our language, 
 after all. I defy Mr. Peacock himself, henceforth, 
 to prove me wrong. Now," she perorated grandly, 
 " I will tell you something in return." 
 
 Claude dropped his hand. "Already I" he ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 " Not already," retorted Violet. " Nothing of the 
 sort. I ought to mention, in summing up your 
 character. Father, you have faults. You are hasty. 
 You expect everybody to live at the same red-hot, 
 quite unreasonable pace as yourself. If you had 
 had the curiosity, — the natural curiosity, — to 
 glance at my programme to-night, " 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 455 
 
 " Forgive me, Pussy," he said humbly. 
 
 " You would have seen that I gave that gentle- 
 man one dance and an extra. And of those, the 
 first I was tired insincerely, and sat out; and the 
 second I abandoned altogether, with a careless ex- 
 cuse, to watch my father playing billiards." 
 
 " Forgive me," he repeated. " I retire." 
 
 " What I had meant to tell you," said Violet, 
 " was this. I inform you after the event, like Mr. 
 Ford. I have backed you throughout this affair. I 
 never lost the hope you would turn a Brilliant 
 Failure into a Certain Success." 
 
 " No, no, not that," he said quickly. " It never 
 can be certain in the circumstances. Demonstrably 
 probable, let us say." 
 
 "You hopeless Precisian I" cried Violet, with a 
 little shudder of laughter that brought her head 
 upon her hands, and the tears into her eyes simul- 
 taneously. Then, making up her mind to immediate 
 duty, she dropped her hands, seized the little glass, 
 and drank off the contents. From the pinnacle of 
 virtue thus attained, she proceeded to deliver a 
 health-lecture, emphatically worded, and from very 
 close quarters, to the great specialist who had so 
 rashly ventured within her domain. 
 
 Claude listened gravely, — content to linger in this 
 little haven of peace and purity, since he knew 
 Eveleen was by now asleep, and the door between 
 their respective rooms shut fast. Only one strand 
 
456 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 of his brain was working, but it worked lucidly, he 
 found, on the whole. It struck him, listening, Violet 
 was right, though he failed to follow all her scientific 
 terminology. However, she soared easily in dis- 
 course above such trifles. She dealt with social 
 obligations in general, touched on history and the 
 Ashwin device, — so freely translated that he barely 
 recognised it, — glanced gracefully at the little 
 matter of loyalty and his service to the Throne, and 
 entrenched herself upon his duty to the domestic 
 circle — herself, apparently, and Mr. Ford. 
 
 That duty, when elaborated by the lecturer, 
 seemed to consist mainly in retaining a certain hour 
 (Claude repeated it to himself) before which he 
 was not to dare to show himself in the morning. 
 He had meant, of course, to say something of the 
 sort to Violet, but it seemed useless now. She would 
 entertain Arthur Gibbs, he understood, — she and 
 Ford. The inclusion of his secretary's name at every 
 juncture was significant. Claude began to fear she 
 and Ford had wasted their sitting-out leisure in 
 criticising him, — a distressful thing to contemplate 
 for the host and head of a household. At least, 
 Violet had got hold of some things that, treachery 
 apart, she should certainly not have known, and he 
 thought he tracked the traitor. He determined 
 vaguely to speak to Ford about this, — when Violet 
 should allow him, of course, — in the morning. 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 457 
 
 " Sensible, isn't it"? " finished the lecturer vigor- 
 ously, the tips of her line fingers touching his head 
 to either side. " In the circumstances, I mean. The 
 circumstances are quite good, properly regarded. 
 The situation promising, for all of us. Now, just go 
 to bed and think it over, do you mind"? " 
 
 He nodded, still grave. He really could not think 
 of anything to say to her, sweet as she was. Nor 
 could he rise. He supposed, — diagnosing himself 
 with conscious clarity, — that the effort of circum- 
 venting Eveleen, slippery, impenetrable, mercilessly 
 seductive, had really left him a little dazed. He 
 had not attacked, he had been frankly too weary, 
 after the almost superhuman effort of the day; it 
 was she who, with the instjuit of her insatiable kind, 
 had sought to entwine him again. He had been 
 roused to resistance in self-defence, and had learnt 
 all he cared to know of past history — granted 
 always she was not lying, — on the way. He had 
 gathered up that evidence for the girl's reassurance 
 chiefly, it could mean little to himself now. He had 
 released himself finally from her coils, with the aid 
 of words he had not chosen, — brutal words, he sup- 
 posed, since she had understood, — but he felt stung. 
 Mortally or not, in the resulting languor he could 
 not say. He felt it more under the charm of this 
 little dry voice, and the touch of delicate hands on 
 his brow. After that other scene, those words spoken 
 
458 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 certainly by his voice, for he heard them still, Violet 
 ought not to touch him, of course. Yet she did, 
 persistently, — he could not but wonder if she knew. 
 
 " Go, darling," said Violet, after the long pause, 
 very low. " Leave me, — you must. I am so tired''' 
 
 It spurred him, and he sprang erect. She had 
 found perhaps the one phrase in the world that 
 would have done so, for the habit of service is strong. 
 He apologised, picked up the glass quite mechani- 
 cally, and left her. She clung to the mantelshelf, 
 forcing herself fiercely, furiously, not to cry till he 
 was gone. 
 
VI 
 
 CONCLUSION 
 
 Mr. Gibbs was not so " hasty " by temperament as 
 his brother-in-law, and it was April before he again 
 thought it necessary to take stock of his stepson's 
 love-affair. At that period of the year's festival, 
 when enchanting Dickens-land was looking its best, 
 and all the Glasswell cherry trees were wearing 
 white for Easter-tide, Mr. Joliffe brought a party 
 down to the Rectory for the inside of a day, con- 
 sisting of Charles and Violet, and another young 
 gentleman with whom Miss Ashwin was temporarily 
 in love. This may need a little explanation. 
 
 Mrs. Eccles took longer than was expected to 
 recover from the operation, and it was not until 
 March that Alice and her husband were able to 
 send her to Holybrook Farm, near Barnstaple, where 
 Abel's mother, who was Alice's friend, had long been 
 waiting to receive her. Mrs. Eccles was in such 
 terror of Dr. Ashwin (who had treated her abomi- 
 nably) that during the whole of that long interval 
 she had abstained from excesses, and was consider- 
 ably better, morally and physically, in consequence. 
 
46o A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 But Alice knew her too well to trust her long; and 
 towards Easter she was allowed by her husband to 
 go down for a week, and breathe the country air, and 
 renew her old acquaintances at the farm. She talked 
 a great deal to her mother-in-law during this short 
 visit, and on her return to London, left her mother 
 behind her in Mrs. Peacock's charge without scruple, 
 bringing Mrs. Peacock's youngest son Christopher 
 to Wimbledon in Mrs. Eccles' stead. 
 
 Alice had of course foreseen that Abel would 
 resent his brother's presence a little on the domestic 
 hearth; especially as Kit was an imp, and ten times 
 cleverer than he. Alice herself thought well to look 
 aside when Kit was cuffed occasionally, though she 
 loved him as devotedly as ever, and took most com- 
 petent charge of him at home. Abroad it was more 
 difficult to do so, for she was much tied to the house. 
 Alice had left Lennoxes perforce on her marriage, 
 but she plied her chosen trade indefatigably in the 
 intervals of keeping house for Abel, and earned very 
 nearly as much as he did, though he was prosper- 
 ing. For she was now regularly employed by the 
 great Mrs. Ashwin, who was trusting herself and 
 her worldly credit more and more, as time went on, 
 to Mrs. Peacock's capable hands. Thus Alice lost 
 nothing material by the change from Lennoxes, and 
 Mrs. Ashwin gained enormously: for she paid less 
 and looked better than ever she had done. She 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 461 
 
 gained also in other ways, as Eveleen could be 
 trusted to gain; for, being pestered on all sides by 
 her acquaintance for the address of her new dis- 
 covery, she held quite a number of useful people in 
 play by withholding it; reserving it, doubtless, with 
 perfect commercial instinct, for the best offer, 
 later on. 
 
 Mrs. Ashwin's daughter, meanwhile, was working 
 daily in the studio at Miss Lennox's side, though 
 both she and Miss Lennox lost sadly, in different 
 ways, by Alice's dissociation from the business. 
 Failing Alice, Violet undertook the ma'hagement of 
 Miss Lennox and her affairs with an address less 
 conspicuous, but quite as remarkable in its way. 
 Miss Lennox was persuaded to extravagances in 
 the matter of space and furnishing, of which the 
 long-lamented Miss Moffat would certainly have 
 disapproved. But Miss Ashwin's purse and per- 
 sonality, in combination, constituted a reinforce- 
 ment in life of which Miss Lennox had never ven- 
 tured, in Miss Moffat's day, even to dream; and in 
 her wondering appreciation of present good, the 
 faithfully adorned image of Miss Moffat was being 
 gently blotted, day by day, from Miss Lennox's 
 tenacious mind. The fact that the former partner 
 had ceased altogether to answer her letters may 
 possibly have contributed to this phenomenon. 
 
 Since Violet's breakdown in the autumn, however, 
 
462 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 and the short and singular letter from her father to 
 the head of the firm that ensued upon it, — entirely 
 devoted, as Miss Lennox explained to Mrs. Gibbs, 
 to the acutest financial advice concerning the ac- 
 counts that had been submitted to him, and only 
 alluding to Violet once, in an amusing postscript,- — 
 Miss Lennox had kept a very tender watch upon 
 the girl, and, as Easter approached, insisted on her 
 taking " a real holiday." Violet, espying profitable 
 employment in another quarter, submitted tamely 
 to authority for once; and thereupon, since Alice 
 was what she termed " off colour " and keeping the 
 house, Violet received at her hands sole charge of 
 Kit in the afternoons, with the avowed intention 
 of showing him the sights of London. 
 
 , It is quite doubtful if any thoroughly undeserving 
 young scamp ever enjoyed such a wonderland before, 
 as that to which Miss Ashwin and Joliffe in com- 
 bination introduced him. Quite a new side of 
 London life, already intensely interesting to a 
 country youth, became apparent to Kit's intelligent 
 mind; and, his ambition fired instantly, he used his 
 patroness mercilessly for his purposes; forcing her 
 to do about twice what she had intended, every day. 
 Joliffe seized every opportunity to snub him sharply 
 on the sly, but it was useless. Kit at fourteen hardly 
 recognised a snub, and, as he was deeply interested 
 in Joliffe and his work, found it more convenient to 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 463 
 
 ignore his disapproval, and court him diligently. 
 He sat beside Joliffe on the front seat all the way 
 down to Glasswell; and the pair behind were in 
 ecstasies at the cool assumption, conveyed to them 
 by the breeze at intervals, in his remarks. 
 
 Violet had bade Margery get out her materials to 
 paint her protege ; for Kit was exactly like a Romney 
 picture without, whatever he may have been like 
 within; but she reckoned without the model, who 
 declined the honour promptly, and escaped. Kit 
 did not at all see the sense of frittering away even 
 half an hour of the time granted him in such a place. 
 As a fact, he saw everything, and was served by all. 
 He broke Mr. Gibbs' heart by thinking nothing of 
 the garden, saying that Abel's at Wimbledon was 
 far better, and that if Mr. Gibbs would be at a 
 certain rendezvous at a certain time. Kit himself 
 would conduct him over it. He took in the church 
 in silence, for he had been well brought up, appear- 
 ing meek and looking saintly. But on emerging 
 from the porch, he was holding a dead mouse by 
 the tail, which he discovered, he explained to his 
 hostess, down by the organ. It was Kit's opinion 
 that the organist (Mrs. Gibbs) might have killed it 
 unintentionally with her feet during service the day 
 before. It was quite a long time before the Rector's 
 wife, — who concealed a weak-minded disgust for 
 mice, — played that organ in comfort again. 
 
464 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 Thus much of Kit. To sum him up, he attracted, 
 with the least possible effort, such a large measure 
 of attention, that the proceedings of Charles and 
 Violet could hardly be observed at all. There 
 seemed little to observe indeed, the girl fitted her 
 usual place in the scene so perfectly, unless it were 
 the marked absence of all Charles' accustomed 
 buoyancy. The Rector even wondered in private 
 if she overrated his capacity for persistence, for his 
 depression was obvious, even on the subject of his 
 work, where he need have had no doubts: and he 
 looked older and harassed to his sisters' eyes. 
 
 As for his mother, if she knew more of his state 
 of mind, she kept her counsel. It is probable she 
 did, for her son rarely came down to Glasswell in 
 these days without a private interview : which Mrs. 
 Gibbs never sought on her own account, letting 
 Charles, in his own absent and erratic fashion, dis- 
 cover the necessity. 
 
 " Isn't she straining him unnecessarily*? " the 
 Rector asked her cautiously that night. 
 
 " On the contrary," the mother answered at once, 
 " she'll snap first, if this goes on. I warned her, — 
 but she only laughed." 
 
 The dog Erasmus who, having investigated Kit 
 in his manner, recognised a relationship to his long- 
 lost Peacock, thereafter stuck to him like wax. At 
 parting he made wild efforts to follow Kit into the 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 465 
 
 carriage, in spite of bulk, and age; and both the 
 pretty Miss Gibbses had to wreathe their arms about 
 him, and appeal to his oldest affections in heart- 
 breaking terms, before he would stir from the step. 
 Margery kissed his head repeatedly as well, but Bob 
 Brading looked on at it unmoved; and made in 
 succession, for Miss Ashwin's benefit, absolutely the 
 only correct and sensible remarks that were made on 
 the premises that day. For Robert, in Charles' 
 absence, had become for all practical purposes the 
 son of the house. Kit threw Erasmus the mouse 
 (which he had kept) to console him, and the party 
 started home. 
 
 Half-way home in the spring twilight, while Kit 
 slept peacefully in the comer, Charles captured 
 Violet's hand, including by degrees her arm as far as 
 the elbow, for he had come unrighteously close, and 
 asked her if she had no pity, and if he might not 
 speak. 
 
 " Just as you like," said Violet. " But I should 
 not advise it, really." She leant, looking at the 
 white cherry trees through the dusk with her bright 
 elvish eyes. 
 
 " Of course you can talk me down," said Charles. 
 " I nevei' doubted that." He halted miserably. 
 
 " Didn't you*? " said Violet. " Not ever so long 
 ago in that canoe*? Think, Charles. You had so 
 much to tell me then." 
 
466 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " Only because you helped me, — I mean, your 
 eyes." 
 
 She laughed a compliment to his eloquence : then, 
 since he did not see fit to release her, frowned. But 
 she did not draw her arm away, for he was panting 
 a little, and Violet had a high-bred horror of 
 struggles. He let her hand go at last, having kissed 
 it furiously; and she withdrew, dainty skirts and 
 all, away from him, and nearer to the sleeping child. 
 
 Altogether on that day the net results arrived at 
 were Bob Brading's bet to his fiancee (utterly in- 
 defensible, of course) that Shovell would not bring 
 it off within the year; and Joliffe's opinion, de- 
 livered weightily to the servants' hall at Harley 
 Street, that Miss Violet was backing away, if any- 
 thing: and that personally he did not see why that 
 young Shovell need think himself so much better 
 than other people, anyhow. 
 
 That young Shovell did not, by slow degrees. He 
 had months of instruction before him. In early 
 May, Miss Ashwin was presented at Court, and 
 Charles heard nothing of it till, the following day, 
 he overheard her remark to an acquaintance that 
 the poor Man had looked so tired, that Father said 
 he had just risen from a sickbed of influenza, and 
 that She, in Violet's opinion, ought to have pre- 
 vented it. Then he realised, with a shock, that she 
 was really out, launched well in the forefront on the 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 467 
 
 stream of the summer season, that retirement and 
 Lennoxes were things of the past, and that, do as he 
 would, he could not keep her from other men. 
 
 The summary after that serious event had better 
 be rapid. In May, Mr. Gibbs wrote to his brother- 
 in-law as follows: 
 
 " My Dear Claude, 
 
 " This won't do, you know. You must get 
 your young party to be more gentle, because ours 
 shows signs of wear. The boy really has a sensitive 
 constitution, as she does not seem to realise, and 
 feels her shafts more than she knows. You quivered 
 people should be careful, sharp words can do such 
 harm. I do not want to blame anybody, but it 
 looks a shade vindictive at this stage, and if he 
 comes to suspect that — gare a elle. These warnings 
 for your common good, and now it's over. 
 
 " Smirks, by the way, upon the Birthday List. 
 How many times, Claude, have I congratulated you, 
 but never with my present insincerity. All the cor- 
 rect things to Lady Ashwin too. I hope she is satis- 
 fied now, but I gather from your last she thinks you 
 can do better if you try. Meanwhile, she tries — 
 others. 
 
 " N. B. — I have the happy ndtion of marking 
 these observations Private, to escape the researches 
 of Ford." 
 
468 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 Sir Claude Ashwin replied — most improperly — 
 on a postcard : 
 
 " Thanks. Go to the devil— C." 
 
 And that little correspondence closed. 
 
 In June, \^iolet took tea with Mr. Lucas Warden, 
 and, as Mr. Warden was fully persuaded, listened to 
 reason. At any rate she kissed him at parting, a 
 thing which she had never done before, and thanked 
 him charmingly too. Only she returned home to 
 treat Charles just as before, with even greater con- 
 centration, if possible. 
 
 Later in June, Miss Ashwin met a Cabinet 
 Minister at a garden-party, and was blest with his 
 fascinating conversation — vide the best books, — 
 for the space of an hour, on the terrace of a country 
 house. This fact got abroad, much was made of it, 
 and everybody who knew anything about anything, 
 commiserated Charles. He was in anguish until it 
 became known, that Miss Ashwin had not only not 
 refused the right honourable gentleman, but that she 
 had never even been asked to marry him. He simply 
 proceeded upon his starry course with a lastingly 
 higher opinion of the feminine intelligence: which 
 everyone may hope, did him and his Cabinet good. 
 
 All the autumn, Violet was away, in houses to 
 which Charles was not invited. Only for a few 
 fleeting hours of a September day, they met at Glass- 
 well, coming from opposite directions to fulfil their 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 469 
 
 offices as bridesmaid and groomsman at the Brading 
 wedding. On this occasion, regarding herself, it 
 may be, rather officially than as a private person, 
 Violet behaved to him with such gentle and absent 
 decorum, that Charles lost his head completely, and 
 was perhaps the least competent " best man " of 
 all who have ever been called upon to take the post. 
 In fact, he was prompted by Sir Robert, the whole 
 time. Margery bade Violet, with her parting kiss, 
 " be kind to Charlie " ; and it is doubtful if Margery 
 was thinking solely of her bet in doing so. 
 
 In November, he saw her again, and was an occu- 
 pant of the car the day she went down to Wimble- 
 don, to visit young Mrs. Peacock's baby. Charles 
 would have thought, had he at this stage been able 
 to think anything against her, that she might have 
 let him off this ordeal. She did so to the extent of 
 leaving him in the car, for she wanted to talk to 
 Alice; but Alice, pale but beautiful inconceivably, 
 with her son in her arms, and Abel beaming behind, 
 came to the door to see Violet off; and for a moment 
 Charles, who had shrunk from Alice for a year past, 
 was forced to view the whole. At the moment when 
 he did so, he thanked Heaven as man must for grant- 
 ing him an unequalled spectacle; and thereafter he 
 never shrank, even in thought, again. 
 
 " I do congratulate you, Mr. Peacock," said Violet 
 on the doorstep. " Do you really think your Father 
 
470 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 down at Holybrook could hold out? Might you not 
 try — one of your nice letters'? I am sure it is just 
 the very moment now." Which it proved. 
 
 The evening of the same day, Violet laid herself 
 along her father's chair, in the half-light of the hall, 
 and told him quietly about Alice, and Peacock, and 
 the baby, and how they were like a certain Venetian 
 picture of a certain group of three; and how Mrs. 
 Eccles was teasing Alice in her weakness with hate- 
 ful, selfish reminiscences of the boy who died; and 
 other things, for the medical ear alone, that in that 
 company she need not fear to say. When she with- 
 drew from him in the dusk she was crying; but 
 Claude, in deep reflection, did not realise that until 
 Eveleen joined him, and reproached him sharply with 
 his folly in spoiling Violet's appearance on an occa- 
 sion of importance, — for they were going out. 
 
 Dr. Ashwin went down in his turn to Wimbledon 
 the following day, chose, — out of pure perversity 
 — a Florentine picture for the group ; and set things 
 right among them in this manner, without error or 
 delay. 
 
 Late on New Year's Eve, to make a story that 
 grows long too short, — for all the intervening inci- 
 dents were notable of their kind, — Charles, on his 
 Christmas visit to Glasswell, at the very tail of his 
 holiday and of his hopes as well, succeeded at length 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 471 
 
 in ensnaring his eliin lady, and in bringing her to 
 bay. It occurred, this crowning incident of all 
 romance, in Margery's little study under the roof, 
 whither Miss Ashwin had retired with a large book 
 on astronomy and a chart of the winter heavens, to 
 watch the stars. It was a rivalry, to the last, for 
 which Charles was not prepared: indeed his sisters 
 warned him earnestly not to disturb her in such 
 company. But he went, and by his passionate per- 
 sistence succeeded in diverting her attention from 
 them finally; getting her promise in terms which, — 
 if astronomical, — could leave, thanks to the Ashwin 
 instinct, no instant's doubt upon his troubled mind. 
 
 Thus he won Violet, — and lost Sir Robert Brad- 
 ing his bet in the same neat stroke, scoring both in a 
 tumult of self-approval and towering exultation, 
 which no succeeding arguments of Bob's, that the 
 bet was lost by forty minutes only, could in the 
 smallest degree disturb. 
 
 It was all most triumphantly satisfactory, from 
 every point of view; but there was a side to the 
 crowning incident, all the same, that should not be 
 omitted. 
 
 " I only wanted to tell you," said Miss Ashwin, 
 standing just inside Mrs. Gibbs' door, " that Charles 
 came up there and interrupted me, while my mind 
 was in other things, and so I am afraid I capitulated 
 by inadvertence, — before I knew where I was." 
 
472 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 " Indeed'? " Mrs. Gibbs sat down with decision 
 on the sofa. " Come here, you absurd little shy 
 thing," she said, " and tell me about it properly." 
 Violet closed the door and advanced. She touched 
 a chair, passed it dubiously, and sat down on the 
 other end of her aunt's sofa, smoothing her skirts 
 nicely, before she clasped her knees. She was still 
 blinking a little, since she came from the dark, and 
 she looked very white to Mrs. Gibbs' eyes, as though 
 she had caught some of the pallor of the long-dead 
 worlds she had been watching so long. 
 
 " It was like this," she explained to her hostess 
 with propriety. " I had been reading that fat book 
 of Robert's on astronomy all day, full of new, rather 
 thrilling things. And I went to Margery's room to- 
 night, where the atmosphere is pleasantly studious, 
 and helpfully dark, to think some of them out. 
 Quite-new things are rather stiff, you know. I had 
 not expected — what I may call — still newer 
 things, just then. That was all. Charles is so un- 
 expected, isn't he"? " She put her hand vaguely to 
 her brow. 
 
 " Are you quite well, my dear? " said Mrs. Gibbs. 
 She felt she dared not touch her, at the moment. 
 
 " Oh, quite. I only came in here, on my way 
 downstairs, to explain." 
 
 " Why did not Charles? " said his mother. 
 
 " Oh, he would have, only he wanted to rush and 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 473 
 
 tell them, — the bet, you know. He is terribly 
 pleased about it." She hesitated. " But I thought 
 you ought to hear first of all. Besides, my late pro- 
 ceedings may have seemed rather remarkable, to 
 some of you. I often wondered. Aunt Henrietta, 
 if you understood " 
 
 " Why not Mamma'? " said Mrs. Gibbs. 
 
 " Oh, may I? " Violet lifted her delicate brows, 
 and then her eyes. Then the white, wild look 
 changed, and she fell upon Charles' mother's 
 shoulder, and cried there for a long time, quite des- 
 perately. Mrs. Gibbs, confident that she had never 
 felt a mother's arms before, — which was the simple 
 fact, — held her jealously close, and would hardly 
 abandon possession later even for the Rector, far less 
 for Charles. She was certain now of what she had 
 acutely guessed, that the girl had been infinitely 
 nearer to the breaking-point than the man; only, as 
 always with an Ash win, one could never tell, the 
 pose was held so successfully, — until they broke. 
 
 Violet insisted on leaving them next day, though 
 entreated by her cousins, and practically commanded 
 by Mrs. Gibbs, to stay at Glasswell and rest. She 
 could not, they gathered, possibly let poor Charles 
 walk straight into the gaping jaws of Harley Street 
 alone. She intended at least to accompany him to 
 the brink of the ordeal, and had already warned 
 Father, by post, to be provided with adequate leisure 
 
474 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 and the right tone of voice. These measures, she 
 assured them all at the breakfast-table, were strictly 
 advisable in the circumstances: not that Father did 
 not like Charles immensely, of course: but he was 
 a trifle arrogant nowadays, not quite, in the matter 
 of temper, what he once had been, and pounced 
 unpleasantly when not prepared. 
 
 " You'd rather I came, wouldn't you, Charles'? " 
 She finished. And Charles said shamelessly that he 
 would. He added, in order finally to exasperate 
 his sisters, that the air would be good for Violet. 
 It may be that he wished to wipe out the memory 
 of a former drive to London, — but that was no 
 excuse, in the eyes of Maud and of Margery Brading, 
 who did not know of the incident, and only saw 
 Violet's present exhaustion. So they all quarrelled 
 till the last minute — except Robert — as usual. 
 Robert merely shook hands with Miss Ashwin on 
 the doorstep, very hard: and lent her the fat book 
 on astronomy, by request, in case she should happen 
 to be bored on the way to town. 
 
 " I am engaged to Mr. Shovell, Joliffe," Violet 
 observed gravely to that functionary, as she was 
 getting into the car. 
 
 " I wish you happiness. Miss Violet, indeed," said 
 Joliffe. " I congratulate you, sir." He marked, be- 
 yond any question, by the gathering fervour of his 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 475 
 
 tone, which of the pair he thought was being blest 
 by fate. 
 
 And Charles was so blest, as a fact, that he 
 forgot to reckon by any ordinary measure how blest 
 he was. For it was only when Claude Ashwin merci- 
 fully terminated the most frightful interview of his 
 life, that he realised fully, for the first time, that 
 his match with his beloved made him a wealthy man. 
 Of any other hero than Charles we should despair 
 of having this believed; but Violet's father, who 
 was watching his face, believed it, and we give that 
 evidence for what it is worth. 
 
 On the subject of the ceremony, there were storms. 
 Mr. Gibbs was the most eloquent, — lofty, indeed, 
 in tone. 
 
 " Charles," wrote Mrs. Gibbs, " who points out to 
 me that marriage only occurs once or twice in one's 
 whole career, is in favour of being as fashionable as 
 possible, and knocking out Brading, whose business 
 last autumn seemed to Charles below the average. 
 Well, you say Violet agrees with Charles; and that, 
 since you agree with Eveleen, all wits jump. And 
 that consequently, a London show next month is 
 the thing to make for. . . . Claude, I remem- 
 ber it! Distrust appearances. Don't you be taken 
 in. Go at her, get behind her, worry her little life 
 
476 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 out till she confesses. She is letting Charles go easy, 
 because she has used him hard. She is not of his 
 opinion, — shouldn't I know'? Didn't she tell me 
 in this room, in these arms, before she ever left me, 
 what she wants'? She wants to be married quietly 
 at Glasswell, by her uncle; and who, I ask yxDu, 
 should do it better, and what house should be fitter 
 than his'^ It is a very jolly house, and the peas 
 promise finer than ever, and so does the hay. So 
 don't you and Eveleen trouble to come, if you are 
 taken up. You can trust the job to me. I have 
 practised on heaps of couples, including my own 
 maid, now a Lady, who will recommend me." 
 
 Of course she was married at Glasswell finally, 
 and of course her parents came down, and a large 
 and fashionable concourse followed them. The 
 village hummed with motor-traffic, and even by 
 adherents of the Rectory family, " Miss Margery's 
 last year " was admitted to be far outclassed. Lady 
 Ashwin, magnificent and cool, arrived unattended 
 by any save Alice Peacock and her own husband: 
 which fact considerably surprised the world, until 
 the reason for it came to light. Eveleen had a 
 grudge against Claude for submitting, against her 
 expressed wish, to the tiresome folly of a country 
 wedding; and had doubtless been seeking in her 
 leisurely mind on the way to Glasswell, how best to 
 humiliate him and spoil the general entertainment. 
 
HOME AFFAIRS 477 
 
 " I may as well tell you, my dear," said Alice as 
 she dressed the bride, " your mother's nasty. It's 
 not likely you'll get a chance at him, the state she's 
 in. Coming along, I couldn't even say I was obliged 
 to him; though I was, as usual, several times." 
 
 It was as Alice acutely predicted. Eveleen did 
 what such a naturally conspicuous person could, to 
 wet-blanket her daughter's festival, but, not being 
 in her own house, did not succeed. In spoiling the 
 pleasure of her own small family, however, she 
 succeeded perfectly. Claude said a series of happy 
 things on the occasion, in a perfectly expressionless 
 tone, and put a high polish on the ceremony by 
 supplying, in his own person, details which all the 
 other officials forgot. He gave his daughter in 
 church to Charles, — whom he also saved, by an 
 adroit stimulus, from fainting at the critical moment, 
 — rescued her train and flowers from destruction in 
 the melee, and watched her closely to the very last. 
 But his wife seemed to have sworn in advance to 
 all her gods, immortal and otherwise, that he should 
 get no word in private with Violet before she left. 
 The whole indignant household would have abetted 
 him, had he shown fight for the mother's privilege 
 he certainly could have clain td, but he made no 
 serious resistance. 
 
 Irreproachable and easy to the last, he lifted the 
 little bride, shivering with the unnatural tension of 
 
478 A LADY OF LEISURE 
 
 such a parting, into her place in the carriage, kissed 
 her lightly once, and left her, with a gesture, in 
 Charles' hands to care ior. Then, returning home 
 with Eveleen, he put the rest on paper that same 
 night. 
 
 It was one of his short " scrawls," conscious and 
 concentrated in manner like everything to which he 
 ever set his name. It lost nothing by that. Match- 
 ing perfectly in tone the high moment of her life to 
 which he destined it, it could not be quoted in its 
 entirety. But we may betray the close, since it wit- 
 nessed to his knowledge of his daughter, a knowledge 
 which serves her tale. 
 
 " Good-bye, my star," he wrote. " You have 
 played the first act bravely, may you play the next 
 under better skies. I have faith in the man you have 
 chosen, if for no other reason, because I have seen 
 how you watched him all this year. In the racking 
 moment, I imagine it is generally upon the woman 
 that the burden of judgment must fall; and that is 
 how the double happiness is made, or missed. 
 
 " Yours, as ever, 
 
 " C. C. A." 
 
 That was the issue, at least, of one great scientist's 
 philosophy. 
 
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 DUE AS STAMPED BELOW 
 
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 FORM NO. DD6, 60m, 1/83 BERKELEY, CA 9472G- 
 
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 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LIBRARY