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 CYNTHIA 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Two friends were sitting together outside the Cafe des 
 Tribunaux in Dieppe. One of them was falling in 
 love ; the other, an untidy and morose little man, was 
 wasting advice. It was the hour of coffee and liqueui-s, 
 on an August evening. 
 
 'You are,' said the adviser irritably, 'at the very 
 beginning of a career. You have been surprisingly for- 
 tunate ; there is scarcely a novelist in England who 
 wouldn't be satisfied with such reviews as yours, and it's 
 your first book. Think : twelve months ago you were a 
 clerk in the city, and managed to place about three 
 
 VOL. I. 1
 
 2 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 short stories a year at a guinea each. Then your aunt 
 what-was-her-name left you the thousand pounds, and 
 you chucked your berth and sat down to a novel. 
 "Nothing happens but the unforeseen" — the result 
 justified you. You sold your novel ; you got a hundred 
 quid for it ; and the Saturday, and the Spectator, and 
 every paper whose opinion is worth a rush, hails you as 
 a coming light. For you to consider marrying now 
 would be flying in the face of a special providence.' 
 
 ' Why ?' said Humphrey Kent. 
 
 ' " Why !''*' Are you serious ? Because your income 
 is an unknown quantity. Because youVe had a literary 
 success, not a popular one. Because, if you keep single, 
 youVe a comfortable life in front of you. Because 
 you'd be a damned fool.' 
 
 'The climax is comprehensive, if it isn't convincing. 
 But the discussion is a trifle " previous," eh ? I can't 
 marry you, my pretty maid, et cetera.' 
 
 ' You are with her all day,' said Turquand — ' I con- 
 clude she likes you. And the mother countenances it.' 
 
 ' There is really nothing to countenance ; and, remem- 
 ber, they haven't any idea of my position : they meet
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 3 
 
 me in a fashionable hotel, they had read the book, and 
 they saw the Times review. What do they know of 
 literary earnings ? — the father is on the Stock Exchange, 
 I believe ! I am an impostor."* 
 
 'You should have gone to the little show I recom- 
 mended on the quay, then. / find it good enough." 
 
 Kent laughed and stretched himself. 
 
 ' I am rewarding industry j" he said. ' For once I 
 wallow. I came into the money, and I put it in a 
 bank, and by my pen, which is mightier than the sword, 
 Fve replaced all I drew to live during the year. Am I 
 not entitled to a brief month''s splash? Besides, Fve 
 never said I want to marry — I don't know what you're 
 hacking at.' 
 
 ' You haven't " said "" it, but the danger is about as 
 plain as pica to the average intelligence, all tliSfe same. 
 My son, how old are you — twenty-seven, isn't it ? Pack 
 your bag, ask for your bill, and go back ^rith me by the 
 morning boat ; and, if you are resolved to make an ass 
 of yom-self over a woman, go and live in gilded infamy, 
 and buy sealskin jackets and jewellery while your legacy 
 lasts. Fll forgive you that.'
 
 4 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 ' The prescription wouldn't be called orthodox ?"* 
 ' You"'d find it cheaper than matrimony in the long- 
 run, I promise you. When now and again some man 
 plays ducks and drakes with a fortune for a cocotte there 
 are shrieks enough to wake his ancestors ; but marriage 
 ruins a precious sight more men every year than the 
 demi-monde and the turf and the tables put together, 
 and nobody shrieks at all — except the irrepressible 
 children. Did it never occur to you that the price 
 paid for the virtuous woman is quite the most appalling 
 one known in an expensive world ?' 
 
 * No,' said Kent shortly, ' it never did.' 
 
 ' And they call you " an acute observer " ! Marriage 
 is Man's greatest extravagance.' 
 
 ' The apothegm excepted. It sounds like a dissipated 
 copybook.' 
 
 * It's a fact, upon my soul. I tell you, a sensible girl 
 would shudder at the thought of entrusting her future 
 to a man improvident enough to propose to her; a 
 fellow capable of marrying a woman is the sport of a 
 reckless and undisciplined nature she should beware of.' 
 
 ' The end is cura^oa-and-brandy,' said Kent, ' and in
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 5 
 
 your best vein. ^\Tiat else ? You'll contradict your- 
 self vnih brilliance in a moment if you go on.' 
 
 The journalist dissembled a grin, and Kent, gazing 
 down the sunny little street, inhaled his cigarette pleasur- 
 ably. To suppose that Miss Walford would ever be his 
 wife looked to him so chimerical that his companion's 
 warnings did not disturb him, yet he was sufficiently 
 attracted by her to find it exciting that a third person 
 could think it likely. He was the son of a man who 
 had once been very wealthy, and who, ha\'ing attempted 
 to repair injudicious investments by rasher speculation, 
 had died o^\'ning little more than enough to defray the 
 cost of his funeral. At the age of nineteen Humphrey 
 realized that, with no stock-in-trade beyond an educa- 
 tion and a bimdle of rejected manuscripts, it was 
 incumbent on him to fight the world unassisted, and, 
 suppressing his literary ambitions as likely to tell 
 against him, betook himself to some connections who 
 throve in commerce and had been socially agreeable. 
 To be annihilated by a sense of your o^\ti deficiencies, 
 seek an appointment at the hands of relations.- The 
 boy registered the aphorism, and withdrew. When
 
 6 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 'life' means merely a struggle to sustain existence, it 
 is not calculated to foster optimism, and the optimistic 
 point of view is desirable for the production of popular 
 English fiction. His prospect of achieving many editions 
 would have been greater if his father had been satisfied 
 with five per cent. He shifted as best he could, and 
 garnered various experiences which he would have been 
 sorry to think would be cited by his biographer, if he 
 ever had one. ' Poverty is no disgrace,' but there are 
 few disgraces that cause such keen humiliations. Even- 
 tually he found regular employment in the office of a 
 stranger, and, making Turquand's acquaintance in the 
 lodging-house in which he obtained a bedroom, con- 
 templated him with respect and envy. Turquand 
 was subediting The Outpost, a hybrid 'weekly' for 
 which he wrote a little of what he thought and 
 much that he disapproved, in consideration of a modest 
 salary. The difference in their years was not too great 
 to preclude confidences. An intimacy grew between 
 the pair over their evening pipes in the arid enclosure 
 to which the landlady's key gave them access, and was 
 transplanted to joint quarters embellished with their 

 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHH^ISTINES 7 
 
 several possessions, chiefly portmanteaus and photo- 
 graphs, equally battered. The elder man, perceiving 
 there was distinction in the unsuccessful stories displayed 
 to him, imparted a good deal of desultory ad\dce, of 
 which the most effectual part was not the assurance that 
 the literary temperament was an aflBiction, and author- 
 ship a s}Tionym for despair. The younger listened, 
 sighed, and burned. Aching to be famous, and fettered 
 to a clerk's stool, he tugged at his chains. He had 
 begun to doubt his force to burst them, when he was 
 apprised, to his unspeakable amazement, that a maternal 
 aunt, whom he had not seen since he was a schoolboy, 
 had bequeathed him a thousand pounds. 
 
 Dieppe had dined, and the Grande Rue was astir. 
 He watched the passers-by with interest. In the 
 elation of his success he was equal to tackling another 
 novel on the morrow, and he saw material in every- 
 thing : in the chattering party of American girls 
 running down from the Plage to eat more ices at the 
 pastrycook's ; in the coquettish dealer in rosaries and 
 Lives of the Saints, who had put up her shutters for 
 the night, and was bound for the Opera ; in the little
 
 8 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 boy - soldiers from the barracks, swaggering every- 
 where in uniforms several sizes too big for them. 
 Sentences from the re\iews he was still recei\dng 
 bubbled through his consciousness deliciously, and he 
 wished, swelling with gratitude, that the men who 
 wrote them were beside him, that he might be intro- 
 duced, and grip their hands, and try to express the 
 inexpressible in words. 
 
 * I should like to live here, Turk," he remarked : 
 ' the atmosphere is right. It's suggestive, stimulating. 
 When I see a peasant leaning out of a window in 
 France, I want to write verses about her ; when I see 
 the same thing at home, I only notice she is dirty.' 
 
 ' Ah P said Turquand, ' that's another reason why 
 you had better go back with me to-morrow. The 
 tendency to wi'ite verses leads to the casual ward. Let 
 us go and watch the Insolent Opulence losing its 
 francs.' 
 
 The Casino was beginning to refill, and the path and 
 lawn were gay with the flutter of toilettes as they 
 reached the gates. Two of the figures approaching the 
 rooms were familiar to the novelist, and he discovered
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTIxXES 9 
 
 their presence with a distinct shock, though his gaze 
 had been scanning the crowd in search of them. 
 
 ' There are the Walfords,^ he said. 
 
 The other grunted — he also had recognised a girl in 
 mauve — ^and Kent watched her silently so long as she 
 remained in ^dew. He knew he had nen'es when he 
 saw Miss Walford. The sight of her aroused a feeling 
 of restlessness in him latterly which demanded her 
 society for its relief, and he had not denied to himself 
 that when a stranger, sitting behind him yesterday in 
 the salon de lecture, had withdrawn a handkerchief 
 redolent of the cori/Iopsis which ]\Iiss Walford affected, 
 it had proWded him with a sensation profoundly- 
 absurd. 
 
 If he had nerves, however, there was no occasion to 
 parade the fact, and he repressed impatience laudably. 
 It was half an hour before the ladies were encountered. 
 Objecting to be foolish, he felt, nevertheless, that 
 Cynthia AValford was an excuse for folly as she turned 
 to him on the terrace with her faint smile of greeting ; 
 felt, with unreasoning gratification, that Turquand 
 must acknowledge it.
 
 10 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 She was a fair, slight girl, with dreamy blue eyes 
 bewitchingly lashed, and lips so delicately modelled that 
 the faint smile always appeared a great tribute upon 
 them. She was no less beautiful for her manifest 
 knowledge she was a beauty, and though she could not 
 have been more than twenty-two, had the air of carry- 
 ing her loveliness as indifferently as her frocks — which 
 tempted a literary man to destruction. She accepted 
 admiration like an entremet at a table d'hote — some- 
 thing included in the menu, and arriving as a matter of 
 course ; but her acceptance was so graceful that it was 
 delightful to bend to her and offer it. 
 
 Kent asked if they were going in to the concert, and 
 Mrs. Walford said they were not. It was far too warm 
 to sit indoors to listen to that kind of music ! She 
 found Dieppe insufferably hot, and ridiculously over- 
 rated. Now, Trouville was really lively ; did he not 
 think so ? 
 
 He said he did not know Trouville. 
 
 ' Don''t you ? Oh, it is ever so much better ; very 
 jolly — really most jolly ! We were there last year, and 
 enjoyed it immensely. We — we had such a time f
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHH^ISTINES 11 
 
 She giggled loudly. ' How long are you gentlemen re- 
 maining ?' 
 
 ' Mr. Turquand is " deserting *" to-morrow,' he said. 
 ' I ? Oh, I shall have to leave in about a week, I am 
 afraid." 
 
 ' You said that a week ago,** mm'mured Miss Walford. 
 
 ' I like the place," he confessed ; ' I find it very 
 pleasant myself." 
 
 Mrs. Walford threw up her hands with a scream of 
 expostulation. Her face was elderly, despite her atten- 
 tions to it ; but in her manner she was often a great 
 deal more youthful than her daughter ; indeed, while 
 the girl had already acquired something of the serenity 
 of a woman, the woman was superficially reverting to 
 the artlessness of a girl. 
 
 ' What is there to like ? Dieppe is the Casino, and 
 the Casino is Dieppe !" 
 
 ' But the Casino is very agreeable,' he said, his glance 
 wemdering from her. 
 
 ' And the charges are perfectly monstrous, though, of 
 course, you extravagant young men don't mind that.' 
 
 ' A friend might call me young,' said Turquand
 
 12 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 gloomily ; ' my worst enemy couldn't call me ex- 
 travagant/ 
 
 ' / plead innocent too,' returned Kent. ' Fm as little 
 complacent under extortion as anybody.' 
 
 She was pleased to hear him say so. All she asked 
 of a young man was that he should be well provided 
 for, but for him to have the good feeling to exercise a 
 nice economy until he became engaged was an additional 
 recommendation. Her giggle was as \iolent as before, 
 though. 
 
 ' Oh, I dare say,' she exclaimed facetiously ; ' I'm 
 always being taken in ; I don't believe those stories any 
 longer. Do you remember Willy Holmes, Cynthia, and 
 the tales he used to tell me ? I used to think that 
 young man was so steady, I was always quoting him. 
 And it turned out he was a regular scapegrace ; and 
 everybody knew it all the time, and had been laughing 
 at me. I've given up believing in anyone, Mr. Kent — in 
 anyone, do you hear ?' She shook the splendours of 
 her bonnet at him, and gasped and gurgled archly. 
 ' I've no doubt you're every bit as bad as the rest !' 
 
 He answered with the sort of inanity required. Miss
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 13 
 
 Walford asked him a question, and he took a seat 
 beside her in replying. Turquand also found a chair. 
 Twilight was falling, and a refreshing breeze began 
 to make itself felt. A fashionable sea purled on the 
 sand below with elegant decorum. In the building 
 the concert commenced, and snatches of orchestration 
 reached them through the chatter of American and 
 English and French from the occupants of the tables 
 behind. Presently Mrs. Walford wanted to go and 
 play Petits Chevaux. The sub -editor, involuntarily 
 attached to the party, accompanied her, and Kent 
 and the girl followed. The crowds round the miniature 
 combes were large, but Turquand prevailed on the 
 dame to perceive that there was still space for them 
 all to stand together. She complimented him on his 
 dexterity, but immediately afterwards became fatigued, 
 and begged him to pilot her to a corner where she 
 could sit down. The party was now necessarily divided 
 into couples.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 He had appreciated the manoeuvres sufficiently to feel 
 no surprise when the room was pronounced stifling 
 ten minutes later, and she declared she must return 
 to the terrace. She had hitherto, however, evinced 
 such small desire for his companionship that he was 
 momentarily undecided which tete-a-tete was the one 
 she had been anxious to effect. 
 
 *Pouf!'' she exclaimed, as they emerged into the 
 air. ' It was unbearable. Where are the others ? 
 Didn''t they come out too ?' 
 
 ' They have no idea weVe gone,"* said Turquand 
 dryly. 
 
 She was greatly astonished, and had to turn before 
 she could credit it. 
 
 * I thought they were behind us,' she repeated several
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHH^ISTINES 15 
 
 times. ' Fm sure they saw us move. Oh, well, they'll 
 find it out in a minute, I expect. Never mind.' 
 
 They strolled up and Aovra among the promenaders. 
 
 'Sorr}^ youVe going, Mr. Turquand.?"* inquired the 
 lady. ' Your friend will miss you very much." 
 
 ' I don't think so,' he answered. ' He knew I was 
 only running over for a few days.' 
 
 'He tells me it is the first holiday he has taken 
 for years,' she said. ' His profession seems to engross 
 him. I suppose it is an engrossing one. But he 
 oughtn't to exhaust his strength. I needn't ask you 
 if you've read his novel. ^Miat do you think of it .?' 
 
 ' I think it extremely clever work,' replied Turquand. 
 
 *And it's been a great success, too, eh.? "One 
 of the books of the year," the Times called it.' 
 
 * It has certainly given him a literary position.' 
 
 ' How splendid !' she said. ' Yes, that's what / 
 thought it : " extremely clever," brilliant — most bril- 
 liant ! His parents must be very proud of him .^' 
 
 ' They are dead,' said Turquand. 
 
 Mrs. Walford was surprised again. She had somehow 
 taken it for granted they were living, and as she
 
 16 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 understood he had no brothers or sisters, it must be 
 very lonely for him. 
 
 * He sees a good deal of me^ said her escort, ' and 
 Fm quite a festive sort of person when you know me."* 
 
 Her giggle announced that she found this entertain- 
 ing, but the approval did not loosen his tongue. She 
 fanned herself strenuously, and decided that, besides 
 being untidy, he was dense. 
 
 ' Of course, in one ^vay,' she pursued, ' his condition 
 is an advantage to him. Literary people have to 
 work so hard if they depend on their writing, don't 
 they r 
 
 ' / do,' he assented, ' Fm sorry to say.' 
 
 His constant obtrusion of himself into the matter 
 annoyed her singularly. She had neither inquired nor 
 cared if he worked hard, and felt disposed to say so. 
 Turquand, who realized now why honours had been 
 thrust upon him this evening, regretted that loyalty 
 to Kent prevented his doing him what he felt would 
 be the greatest service that could be rendered, and 
 removing the temptation of the mauve girl permanently 
 from his path.
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 17 
 
 *With talent and private means our author is 
 fortunate ?' 
 
 ' I often tell him so,' he said. 
 
 ' If it doesn't tempt him to rest on his oars,' she 
 added delightedly. 'Wealth has its dangers. Young 
 men will be young men."* 
 
 ' " Wealth ■" is a big word,' said he. ' Kent is 
 certainly not to be called " wealthy." ' 
 
 'But he does not rely on his pen?' she cried Tvith 
 painful carelessness. 
 
 ' He has some private means, I believe ; in fact, I 
 know it.' 
 
 ' I am so glad — so glad for him. Now I have 
 no misgi\'ings about his future at all. . . . Have 
 youf 
 
 ' I'm not sure that I follow you.' 
 
 She played with her fan airily. 
 
 ' He is certain to succeed, I mean ; he need not fear 
 anything, since he has a competence. Oh, I know what 
 these professions are,' she went on, laughing. ' My 
 son is in the artistic world ; we are quite behind the 
 scenes. I know how hard -up some of the biggest 
 
 VOL. I. 2
 
 18 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 professionals are when they have nothing but their 
 vocation to depend on. A profession is so precarious — 
 shocking — even when one has aptitude for iV 
 
 ' Kent has more than " aptitude,"' he said. ' He has 
 power. Perhaps he'll always work too much for himself 
 and the re^^ewers to attract the very widest public. 
 Perhaps he is a trifle inclined to over-do the analytical 
 element in his stuff; but that's the worst that can 
 be said of it. And, then, it's a question of taste. For 
 myself, Fm a believer in the introspective school, and 
 I think his method's admirable.' 
 
 ' Schools ' and ' methods ' were meaningless to the 
 lady in such a connection. Novels were novels, and 
 they were either ' good ' or they were ' rubbish,' if she 
 understood anything about them; and she had read 
 them all her life. She looked perplexed, and reiterated 
 the phrase she had used already. 
 
 ' Oh, extremely clever, brilliant — most brilliant,, 
 really ! I quite agree with you.' 
 
 ' Your son writes, did you say, Mrs. Walford ?' 
 
 * Oh no, not writes — no ! He sings ! He is — er — 
 studying for the operatic stage.' Her tone could not
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTlxVES 19 
 
 have been more impressive if she had said he was 
 De Reszke. * His voice is quite magnificent.^ 
 
 * Really !' he replied with interest. ' That is a great 
 gift — a voice/ 
 
 * He is " coming out '' soon," she said. ' He — er — he 
 could get an engagement at any moment, but — he is so 
 conscientious. He feels he must do himself entire 
 justice when he makes his debut. In professional 
 circles he is thought an immense amount of — immense !' 
 
 * Has he sung at any concerts ?^ 
 
 ' In private,"* she explained — ' socially. He visits 
 among musicians a great deal. And of course it 
 makes it very lively for us.. He is quite — er — in the 
 swim !' 
 
 * You are to be congratulated on your familv,' said 
 Turquand. 'With such a son, and a daughter like 
 Miss Walford " 
 
 ' Yes, she is very much admired,' she admitted — ' very 
 much ; but a strange girl, Mr. Turquand. You wouldn't 
 believe how strange !' 
 
 He did not press her to put him to the test, but she 
 afforded the particulars as if glad of the opportunity.
 
 20 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 He remarked that, in narrating matters of which she 
 was proud, she adopted a breathless, jerky delivery, 
 which provoked in the hearer the perhaps unfounded 
 suspicion that she was inventing the facts as she 
 went on. 
 
 ' She is most peculiar,** she insisted. ' The matches 
 she has refused ! Appalling !' 
 
 ' No ?"* he said. 
 
 ' A Viscount I** she gasped. ' She refused a Viscount 
 in Monte Carlo last year. A splendid fellow ! Enor- 
 mously wealthy. Perfectly wild about her. She 
 wouldn''t look at him.** 
 
 ' You astonish me !^ he murmured. 
 
 Mrs. Walford shook her head speechlessly, with 
 closed eyes. 
 
 ' And there were others,** she said in a reviving spasm 
 — ' dazzling positions ! Treated them like dirt. She 
 said, if she didn^t care for a man, nothing would induce 
 her. What can one do with such a romantic goose ? 
 Be grateful that you aren**t a mother, Mr. Turquand.** 
 
 'Some day,' he opined, without returning thanks- 
 giving, ' the young lady will be induced.**
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHU^ISTINES 21 
 
 ' Oh, and before long, if it comes to thiat/ She 
 nodded confidentially. ' To tell you the truth, I expect 
 somebody here next week. A young man rolling in 
 riches, and with expectations that — oh, tremendous ! 
 He raves about her. She has refused him — er — seven 
 times — seven times ! He wanted to commit suicide after 
 her last rejection. But she respects him immensely. 
 A noble fellow he is — oh, a most noble fellow ! And 
 when he asks her again, I rather imagine that pity may 
 make her accept him, after all.^ 
 
 * She must have felt it a grave responsibility," obsened 
 the journalist politely, 'that a young man said he 
 wanted to commit suicide on her account.' 
 
 * That's just it ; she feels it a terrible responsibility. 
 Oh, she's not fond of him. Sony for him, you under- 
 stand — sorry. And, between ourselves, Fm sure I really 
 don't know what to think would be for the best — I don't 
 indeed ! But I wouldn't mind wagering a pair of gloves 
 that, if she doesn't meet Mr. Right soon, she'll end by 
 giving in, and Mr. Somebody-else will have stolen the 
 prize before he comes — hee, hee, hee !' 
 
 Turquand groaned in his soul. In his mental vision
 
 22 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 his friend already flopped helplessly in the web, and he 
 derived small encouragement from the reflection that she 
 was mistaken in the succulence of her fly. 
 
 ' You are not smoking,' she said. ' Do ! I don't 
 mind it a bit.' 
 
 He scowled at her darkly, and was prepared to see 
 betrothal in the eyes of the absent pair when they 
 rejoined them. 
 
 As yet, however, they were still wedged in the crowd 
 around the tables. On their right, a fat Frenchwoman 
 cried ' Assez ! assez !' imploringly, as her horse, leading by 
 a foot, threatened at last to glide past the winning-post, 
 and leave victory in the rear ; to their left, an English 
 girl, evidently on her honeymoon, was losing francs 
 radiantly out of the bridegroom's purse. Kent had 
 paid for sixteen tickets, and Miss Walford for five, before 
 they perceived that the others had retired. 
 
 ' We had better go and look for them,' she declared. 
 The well-bred sea shimmered in the moonlight now, 
 and the terrace was so thronged that investigation could 
 only be made in a saunter. 
 
 * I wonder where they have got to,' she murmured.
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHH^ISTINES 23 
 
 Her companion was too contented to be curious : 
 
 * We are sure to come upon them in a minute,^ he 
 said. * Do you also abuse Dieppe, Miss Walford T 
 
 * Not at all — no. It is mamma who is bored.' 
 
 ' I should like to show you Arques,"* he said. ' Fm 
 sure your mother would be interested by that. Do you 
 think' we might drive over one afternoon ?"* 
 
 ' I don't know,' she replied. ' Is it nice ?' 
 
 * Well, " nice " isn't what you will call it when you 
 are there. It's a ruined castle, you know ; and you can 
 almost " hear " the hush of the place — it's so solemn, 
 and still, and Norman. If youYe very imaginative, you 
 presently hear men clanking about in armour as you 
 dream in the old courtyard. You icould hear the men 
 in armour, I think.' 
 
 ' Am I imaginative T she smiled. 
 
 ' Aren't you T he asked. 
 
 ' Perhaps I am ; I don't know. What makes you 
 think so T 7. 
 
 He was puzzled to adduce any reason excepting that 
 she was so pretty. He did not pursue the subject. 
 
 ' There are several things worth seeing here,' he said.
 
 24 A DAUGHTJ^R OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 * Of course Dieppe " is only the Casino,'"* if one never 
 goes anywhere else. I suppose you haven't even heard 
 of the Cave-dwellers ?' 
 
 ' The " Cave-dwellers '' ?' she repeated. 
 
 ' Their homes are the caves in the cliffs. Have you 
 never noticed there are holes ? They are caves when 
 you get inside — vast ones — one room leading out of 
 another. The people are beggars, very dirty, and occa- 
 sionally picturesque. They exist by what they can 
 cadge, and, of course, they pay no rent ; it's only when 
 they come out that they see daylight.' 
 
 ' How hoiTid !' she shivered. ' And you went to look 
 at them ?"* 
 
 ' Rather ! They are very pleased to " receive." One 
 of the inhabitants has lived there for twenty years. I 
 don't think he has stirred abroad for ten ; he sends his 
 family. Many of the colony were born there. Don't 
 you consider they were worth a visit ?^ 
 
 ' I don't know,' she said ; ' one might be robbed and 
 murdered in such a place.' 
 
 ' With the greatest ease in the world,' he agreed ; 
 * some of the inner rooms are so black that you literally
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 25 
 
 can't see your hand before you. It would be a beautiful 
 place for a murder ! The next-of-kin lures the juvenile 
 heiress there, and bribes the beggars to make away with 
 her. Unknown to him, they spare her life because — 
 
 because Why do they spare her life but keep 
 
 her prisoner and bring her up as one of themselves? 
 Twenty years later — I believe I could write a sensa- 
 tional novel, after all !' 
 
 ' "What nonsense !' laughed Miss Walford daintily. 
 
 ' Do you like that kind of story ?' he inquired. 
 
 ' I like plots about real life best,' she said. ' Don't 
 you ?"" 
 
 He found this an exposition of the keenest literary 
 sympathies, and regarded her adoringly. She preferred 
 analysis to adventure, and realism to romance. What 
 work he might accomphsh, inspired by the companion- 
 ship of such a girl ! 
 
 'Wherever have you been, Cynthia? We thought 
 you were lost,' he heard Mrs. AValford say discordantly, 
 and the next moment the party was united. 
 
 ' It's where have t/mi been, mamma, isn't it ?' 
 
 * Well, I like that ! We didn't stop a minute ; I
 
 S6 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 made certain you saw us get up. WeVe been hunting 
 for you everywhere. Mr. Turquand and I have been 
 out here ever so long, haven'^t we, Mr. Turquand ? 
 Looking at the moon, too, if you want to know, and 
 — ^hee, hee, hee ! — talking sentiment.' 
 
 Turquand, who was staring at Kent, allowed an 
 eyelid to droop for an instant at the conclusion, and 
 the latter stroked his moustache and smiled. 
 
 * Such a time weVe been having, all by ourselves !' she 
 persisted uproariously. ' Mr. Kent, are you shocked .'' 
 Oh, IVe shocked Mr. Kent ! He'll always remember it 
 — I can see it in his face.' 
 
 * I shall always remember i/ou, Mrs. Walford,' he said, 
 trying to make the enforced fatuity sound graceful. 
 
 * We were left by ourselves, and we had to get on as 
 we could,' she cried. ' Hadn't we, Mr. Turquand ? I 
 say we had to amuse ourselves as we could. Now 
 Cynthia's glowering at me. Oh — hee, hee, hee ! — ^you 
 two young people are too respectable for us. We don't 
 ask any questions, but — but I dare say Mr. Turquand 
 and I aren't the onli/ ones — hee, hee, hee ! — who have 
 been " looking at the moon." '
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 27 
 
 ' Shall we find chairs again ?*" said Kent quickly, per- 
 ceiving the frown that darkened the girPs brow. ' It''s 
 rather an awkward spot to stand still, isn'^t it P"* 
 
 She agreed that it was, and a waiter brought them 
 ices, and Mrs. Walford was giddy over a liqueur. They 
 remained at the table until the ladies asserted it was 
 time to return to their hotel. Parting from them at 
 its gates, the two men turned away together. Both felt 
 in their pockets, filled their pipes, and, smoking silently, 
 drifted through the rugged little streets, back to the 
 cafe where they had had their conversation after dinner. 
 
 * " Thank you for a very pleasant evening,"'' ' said 
 Turquand, breaking a long pause. 
 
 It was the only criticism he permitted himself, and 
 Kent did not care to inquire if it was to be regarded 
 as ironical.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 After his friend's departure, the mother and daughter 
 became the pivot round which the author''s movements 
 revolved. Primarily his own companionship and the 
 novelty of Dieppe had been enough ; but now he found 
 it dreary to roam about the harbour, or sit sipping 
 mazagrins, alone. Reviewing the weeks before Turquand 
 joined him, he wondered what he had done with himself 
 in various hours of the day, and solitude hung so un- 
 familiarly on his hands that Miss Walford's society was 
 indispensable. 
 
 Soon after the matutinal chocolate, he accompanied 
 the ladies to the Casino, and spent the morning beside 
 them under the awning. Mrs. Walford did not bathe : 
 while people could have comfortable baths in the vicinity 
 of their toilet-tables, she considered the recourse to tents
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 29 
 
 and the sea was making an unnecessary confidence — 
 and she disliked Cynthia to do so, ' ^vith a lot of French- 
 men in the water."* Whether it was their sex, or only 
 their nationality, that was the objection was not clear. 
 She usually destroyed a novel while Mr. Kent and her 
 daughter conversed. Considering the speed with which 
 she read it, indeed, it was constant food for astonishment 
 to him that she could contrive to do a book so much 
 damage. In the evening they strolled out again, and 
 but for the afternoon he would have had small cause for 
 complaint. Even this gained a spice of excitement, 
 however, from the fact that it was uncertain how long 
 Miss Walford's siesta would last, and there was always 
 the chance, as he lounged about the hotel, smoking to 
 support the tedium, that a door would open and cause 
 heart-leaps. 
 
 Mrs. Walford declared that the \isit to Arques would 
 be 'very jolly,' and the excursion was made about a 
 week later. Kent found the girPs concurrence in his 
 enthusiasm as pretty as he had promised himself it 
 would be, and when they had escaped from the in- 
 formation of the gardien, and wandered where they
 
 30 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 chose to go, the chaperon was the only blot upon per- 
 fection. 
 
 Perhaps she realized the influence of the scene, though 
 her choice of adjectives was not happy, for the explora- 
 tions fatigued her before long, and, since the others 
 were so indefatigable, they might continue them while 
 she sat down. 
 
 It was, as Kent had said, intensely still. The prac- 
 tical obtruding itself for a moment, he thought how 
 blessed it would be to work here, where doors could 
 never slam and the yells of children were unknown. 
 They mounted a hillock, and looked across the endless 
 landscape silently. In the dungeons under their feet 
 lay dead men''s bones, but such facts concerned him 
 little now. Far away some cattle — or were they deer ? 
 — browsed sleepily under the ponderous trees. Of what 
 consequence if they were cattle or deer ? Still further, 
 where the blue sky dipped and the woodland rose, a 
 line of light glinted like water. Perhaps it was water, 
 and if not, what matter? It was the Kingdom of 
 Imagination ; deer, water, fame, or love — the Earth was 
 whatever he pleased ! Among the crumbling walls the
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHH^ISTINES 31 
 
 girl's frock fluttered charmingly ; his eyes left the land- 
 scape and sought her face. 
 
 ' It is divine !' she said. 
 
 He did not disguise from himself that life without 
 her would be miendurable. 
 
 ' I knew it would please you," he said unsteadily. 
 
 She again regarded the questionable cattle ; his tone 
 had said much more. 
 
 Kent stood beside her in a pause in which he beheved 
 he struggled. He felt that she was unattainable ; but 
 there was an intoxication in the moment he was not 
 strong enough to resist. He touched her hand, and, 
 his heart pounding, met her gaze as she turned. 
 
 ' Cynthia,"* he said in his throat. The colour left her 
 cheeks, and her head drooped. 'Ai'e you angry mth 
 me T She was eminently graceful in the attitude. ' I 
 love you,' he said — 'I love you. WhoX shall I say 
 besides ? I love you."* 
 
 She looked slowly up, and blinded him with a smile. 
 Its newness jumped and quivered through his nerves. 
 
 * Cynthia ! Can you care for me ?'' 
 
 ' Perhaps,' she whispered.
 
 32 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 He was alone with her in Elysium ; Adam and Eve 
 were not more secure from human observation when 
 they kissed under the apple-tree. He drew nearer to 
 her — ^her eyes permitted. In a miracle he had clasped 
 a goddess, and he would not have been aware of it if 
 all the pins of Birmingham had been concealed about 
 her toilette to protest. 
 
 Presently she said : 
 
 ' We must go back to mamma !' 
 
 He had forgotten she had one, and the recollection 
 was a descent. 
 
 ' What will she say ?^ he asked. ' Fm not a millionaire, 
 dearest ; I am afraid she won't be pleased.' 
 
 * I will tell her when we get home. Oh, mamma likes 
 your 
 
 ' And you have a father ?' he added, feeling vaguely 
 that the ideal man'iage would be one between orphans, 
 whose surviving relatives were abroad and afraid of 
 a voyage. *Do you think they will give you to 
 me.?' 
 
 * After I have spoken to them,' she said deliciously. 
 * Yes — oh, they will be nice, I am sure, Mr. Kent ! . . .
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 33 
 
 There, then ! But one can't shorten it, and it sounds a 
 disagreeable sort of person."* 
 
 ' Not as you said it.' 
 
 ' It was very ^\Tong of you to make me say it so soon. 
 Are you a tyrant ? . . . We must really go back to 
 mamma !' 
 
 ' Did you know I was fond of you ?' asked Kent. 
 
 * I — wondered.' 
 ' \Nhy r 
 
 ' Why did I wonder T 
 
 * Yes.' 
 
 ' I don't know.' 
 
 * No ; tell me ! Was it because — ^}'ou liked me i*'* 
 ' You are vain enough already.' 
 
 ' Haven't I an excuse for vanity .^' 
 
 'Amir 
 
 Language failed him. 
 
 * Tell me why you wondered,' he begged. 
 
 ' Because You are wickedly persistent !' 
 
 ' I am ever}i:hing that is awful. Cynthia T 
 
 'Yes?' 
 
 ' Because you liked me ?' 
 
 VOL. I, 3
 
 34 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 ' Perhaps ; the weeniest scrap in the world. Oh, you 
 are horrid ! What things you make me say ! And we 
 are only just ' 
 
 ' Engaged ! It's a glorious word ; don't be afraid 
 
 of it; 
 
 ' I shall be afraid of you in a minute. How do you 
 think of your — your proposals in your books .?' 
 
 ' I have only written one book.' 
 
 'Did you make it up? He didn't talk as you talk 
 to me T 
 
 ' He wasn't so madly in love with her.' 
 
 * But he said the very sweetest things !' 
 ^ That's why.' 
 
 • You are horrid !' she declared again. ' I don't know 
 what you mean a bit . . . Mr. Kent ' 
 
 'Whois^i^f 
 ' Humphrey !' 
 ' Yes — sweetheart ?' 
 
 'Now you've put it out of my head.' She laughed 
 softly. ' I was going to say something.' 
 
 ' Let me look at you till you think what it was.' 
 ' Perhaps that wouldn't help me.'
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 35 
 
 * Oh, you are an angel !' he exclaimed. ' Cynthia, we 
 shall always remember Ai'ques P** 
 
 She breathed assent. * Was this Joan of Arc^s 
 Arques ? 
 
 ' No — Noah's.' 
 
 * Whose T she said. 
 He smiled. 
 
 ' Not the Maid of Orleans' ; it is spelt differently, 
 besides.' 
 
 ' I believe you're being silly,' she said, in a puzzled 
 tone. ' I don't undei-stand. Oh, we must go back to 
 mamma ; she'll think we're lost !' 
 
 Mi's. Walford did not evince any signs of perturba- 
 tion, however, when they rejoined her, nor did she ask 
 for particulars of what they had seen. She seemed to 
 think it likely they might not feel talkative. She said 
 she had ' enjoyed it all immensely,' sitting there in the 
 shade, and that the gardien, who had come back to 
 her, had imparted the most romantic facts about the 
 chateau. Upon some of them she was convinced that 
 Mr. Kent could easily write an historical novel, which 
 she was sure would be deeply interesting, though she
 
 3() A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 never read historical novels herself. Had Mr. Kent 
 
 and Cynthia any idea of the quantity of pippins 
 
 grown in the immediate neighbourhood every summer ? 
 
 The gardien had told her that too. No; it had 
 
 nothing to do with the chateau; but it was simply 
 
 extraordinary, and the bulk of the fruit was converted 
 
 into cider, and the peasantry obtained it quite for 
 
 nothing, which was a perfect godsend for them when 
 
 they could not afford the wine, and she had no doubt 
 
 much more wholesome besides, though, personally, she 
 
 had only tasted cider once, and then it had made her ill. 
 
 They drove back down the dusty hill listening to her. 
 
 The girl spoke scarcely at all, and the onus of appearing 
 
 entertained devolved upon Kent opposite. When the 
 
 fly deposited them at the hotel door at last, he drew a 
 
 sigh in which relief and apprehension were blended. 
 
 Cynthia followed her mother upstairs, and he caught a 
 
 glance from her, and smiled his gratitude; but he 
 
 questioned inwardly what would be the upshot of the 
 
 announcement she was about to make. He perceived 
 
 with some amusement that he was on the verge of an 
 
 experience of whose terrors he had often read without
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHH^ISTINES 37 
 
 realizing them. He was a candidate for a young lady's 
 hand. Yes ; it made one nen'ous. He asked himself 
 for the twentieth time in the past few days if he had 
 been mistaken in supposing Mi-s. Walford over-esti- 
 mated his eligibility ; perhaps he was no worse off than 
 she thought him. But even then he quaked, for he 
 had seen too little society since he was a boy to be 
 versed in such matters, and he was by no means ready 
 to make an affida\'it that she had extended him 
 encouragement. 
 
 A signal at the entrance to the dining-room was 
 exciting but obscure, and there was no opportunity for 
 inquiries before the ladies took their seats. He anathe- 
 matized an epergne which to-night seemed more than 
 usually obstructive. C}Tithia was in white. He did 
 not recollect ha^'ing seen her in the go\m before, and 
 the glimpse of her queenliness shook him. No mother 
 would accord him so peerless a treasure — he had been 
 mad! 
 
 It was interminable, this procession of courses, 
 relieved by glances at a profile down the table. His 
 mouth was dry, and he ordered champagne to raise his
 
 38 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 pluck. It heated him, without steadying his nerves. 
 The room was like a Turkish bath ; yet the curve of 
 cheek he descried was as pale as the corsage. How 
 could she manage it? He himself was bedewed with 
 perspiration. 
 
 He could wait no longer. He went on to the 
 veranda and lit a cigar. He saw Mrs. Walford come 
 out, and, dropping it, rose to meet her. She was alone. 
 Where was Cynthia ? Seeking him ? or was her 
 absence designed ? 
 
 ' 1 hope our excursion hasn't tired you, Mrs, 
 Walford ?' 
 
 ' Oh dear no," she assured him. She hesitated, but 
 her manner was blithesome. His courage mounted. 
 ' Shall we take a turn ?' she suggested. 
 
 ' Mrs. Walford, your daughter has told you what I 
 ... of our conversation this afternoon, perhaps ? I 
 haven't many pretensions, but I am devoted to her — 
 she is good enough to care a little for inc. Will you 
 give her to me, and let me spend my life in making her 
 happy ?' 
 
 She made a gesture of sudden artlessness.
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 39 
 
 ' I was perfectly astonished !' she exclaimed. ' To 
 tell you the ti-uth, ]Mr. Kent, I was perfectly dum- 
 founded when Cynthia spoke to me. I hadn't an idea 
 of it. I — er — I don't know whether I'm particularly 
 obtuse in these affairs — hee ! hee ! hee ! — but I hadn't a 
 suspicion f 
 
 ' But you do not refuse your consent ?' he begged. 
 * You do not disapprove P' 
 
 She waved her hands about afresh, and went on 
 jerkily, with a wide, fixed smile : 
 
 * I never was more astounded in my life. Of course, 
 I — er — from' what we've seen of you . . . most desirable — 
 most desirable in many ways. At the same time — er — 
 Cynthia's a delicate girl ; she has always been used to 
 every luxury. So few yomig men are really in a posi- 
 tion to justify their maiTpng.' 
 
 ' My position is this,' he said. ' I've my profession, 
 and a little money — not much ; a thousand pounds, 
 left me by a relative last year. Assisted by that money, 
 I reckon that my profession would certainly enable us 
 to live in a comfortable fashion until I could support a 
 wife by my pen alone.' Her jaw dropped. He felt it,
 
 40 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 before he turned, and shivered. ' Fm afraid you do not 
 think it very excellent ?' he murmured. 
 
 She was breathing agitatedly. 
 
 ' It ... I must say — er — I fear her father would never 
 
 sanction Oh no ; I am sure. It is out of the 
 
 question.' 
 
 *A man may keep a wife on less, Mrs. Walford, 
 without her suffering. My God ! if I thought that 
 Cynthia would ever know privation or distress, do you 
 suppose I would '' 
 
 ' A wife !' she said, ' a wife ! My dear Mr. Kent, a 
 man must be prepared to provide for a family as well. 
 Have you — er — any expectations ?"* 
 
 ' I expect to succeed,' said Kent ; ' Fve the right to 
 expect it. No others.' 
 
 ' May I ask how much your profession brings you in ?' 
 
 ' I sold my novel for a hundi^ed pounds,' he answered. 
 ' It was my first,' he added, as he heard her gasp ; ' it 
 was my first . . . Mrs. Walford, I love her. At least 
 think it over. Let me speak to her again ; let me ask 
 her if she is afraid. Don't refuse to consider.' 
 
 The pain in his voice was not without an effect on
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 41 
 
 her disgust. She was mercenary, though she did not 
 know it ; she was not good-natured, though she had 
 good impulses; she was ludicrously artificial; but she 
 was a woman, and he was a young man. She did not 
 think of her own courtship, for she had only been 
 sentimental when her parents approved — she had not 
 ' mamed for money ,"* but her heart had been provi- 
 dentially warmed towards the one young gentleman 
 of her acquaintance who was ' comfortably off."* She 
 thought, however, of Cynthia, who had displayed con- 
 siderable feeling in the bedroom an hour ago. 
 
 ' I must wiite to her father,' she said, in a wonied 
 voice. ' I really can't promise you an\i:hing ; I am 
 very vexed at this sort of thing going on without my 
 knowledge — very vexed. I shall ^mte to her father 
 to-night. I must ask you to consider the whole matter 
 entirely indefinite until he comes. Immense responsi- 
 bility . . . immense ! I can't say any more, Mr. Kent.' 
 
 She left him on the veranda, and re-entered the house. 
 His sensation was that she had shattered the world 
 about him, and that a weighty portion of the ruin was 
 lying on his chest.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 When Sam Walford ran over to Dieppe, in obedience 
 to his wife's summons, he said : 
 
 ' Well, what's this dam nonsense, Louisa, eh ? Tliere's 
 nothing in this, you know — this won't do.' 
 
 ' Cynthia is very cut up,' she aveiTed ; ' you had better 
 tell her so. I'm sure I wish we had w^aited, and gone to 
 Brighton instead. ... A lot of bother.' 
 
 ' An author,' he said, with amusement ; ' what do you 
 do with authors ? You do " find 'em," my dear !' 
 
 ' I don't know what you mean,' she returned tartly. 
 ' I can't help a young man taking a fancy to her, can I ? 
 If you're so clever, it's a pity you didn't stop here with 
 her yourself. If you don't think it's good enough, you 
 must say so, and finish the matter, that's all. You're 
 her father.'
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 4S 
 
 ' ril talk to her," he declared. ' Where is she now ? 
 Let us go and see. And where's ]Mr. — what dVe call 
 him ? what's he like ?' 
 
 ']\Ir. Kent. He is a very nice fellow. If he had 
 been in a different position, it would have been most 
 satisfactorv. There's no doubt he's very clever — highly 
 talented — the newspapers are most comphmentary to 
 him. And — er — of course a novelist is socially — er — 
 he has a certain ' 
 
 ' Dam it ! he can't keep a family on compliments, can 
 he 't I suppose he's a bull of himself, eh .^ Thinks he 
 ought to be snapped at ?' 
 
 'Nothing of the sort; you always jump to such 
 extraordinary conclusions,' she said. ' He is a perfect 
 gentleman, and proposed for her beautifully. After all, 
 there aren't many young men who've got so much as a 
 thousand pounds in ready money.' 
 
 'But he isn't making an}i:hing, you tell me,' objected 
 Mr. Walford ; ' they'll eat up a thousand pounds before 
 they know where they are. . . . He wouldn't expect 
 anything with her, I suppose ?' 
 
 She shook her head violently.
 
 44 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 ' No earthly occasion. Oh dear no l"* 
 
 ' Let nie go and see Cynthia,' he said again. ' It**s a 
 funny thing a girl like that hasn't ever had a good offer 
 — upon my soul it is ? 
 
 ' You ask home such twopenny - halfpenny men,' 
 retorted his wife. ' She is in her room ; I'll let her 
 know you're here.' 
 
 Cynthia was 'cut up.' She liked Humphrey Kent 
 very much — and everything is relative : she felt herself 
 a Juliet. She considered it very unkind of mamma to 
 oppose their marriage, and said as much to her father, 
 with tears on her lashes and pathetic little sobs. Sam 
 Walford was sorry for her ; his affection for his children 
 was his best attribute. He said ' Dam it !' several times 
 more, and then patted her on the cheek, and told her 
 not to cry, and went out on the Plage to commune with 
 tobacco. 
 
 After his cigar, he explored for a coiffeur's — there is 
 a very excellent one in Dieppe ; and he was shaved — an 
 operation which freshened him extremely — and had his 
 thin hair anointed with various liquids of agreeable 
 fragrance and most attractive hues, and submitted his
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 45 
 
 moustache to the cm'Hiig-irons. Tlie French barber 
 will play with you nearly as long as the American, and 
 when Mr. Walford had acquired a carnation for his 
 buttonhole, and sipped a vermouth over the pages of 
 Gil Bias, it was time to think of returning to the 
 hotel. A pretty woman, who had looked so demui'e 
 in approaching that the impropriety was a sensation, 
 lifted her eyes to him, and smiled as she passed. He 
 momentarily hesitated, but remembered it was near the 
 dinner-hour, and that he was a father ^vith a daughter's 
 love-affair upon his hands. But he re-entered the hotel 
 in a good humour. 
 
 Cynthia went to bed radiantly happy that night, and 
 kissed a bundle of lilies that had cost fifty francs, for 
 the Capulets had relented. 
 
 The two men had had a long conversation on the 
 terrace over their coffee, and the senior, who was favour- 
 ably impressed, had ended by being jovial, and calling 
 Kent ' my boy,"* and smacking him on the shoulder. 
 
 Nor was Mrs. Walford displeased by the decision, 
 since it could never be said that she had advocated it. 
 * My daughter''s fiance, Mr. Kent, the novelist, you
 
 46 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 know,'' sounded very well, and she foresaw herself ex- 
 patiating on his importance, and determined what his 
 income would be in her confidences with intimate friends. 
 Really, if the house were nice, he might be making 
 anything she liked — ^who could dispute her assertions ? 
 
 The Capulets had relented, and the sun shone — 
 especially in Paris, where Kent went in haste to procure 
 the engagement-ring, and the thirsty trees were shudder- 
 ing in the glare, and the asphalt steamed. But he could 
 not wait, although the stay in Dieppe was drawing to a 
 close now, and they would all be back in London soon. 
 It seemed to him that it would be as the signing of the 
 agreement when Cynthia put her finger through his 
 ring; and he was resolved that it should be a better 
 one than any of those her mother wore with such com- 
 placence. Poor devil of an author though he was, her 
 acquaintances should not tell that Cynthia was marrying 
 badly by the very emblem of his devotion ! 
 
 In the Rue de la Paix he spent upwards of an hour 
 scrutinizing all the jewellers'* windows before he per- 
 mitted himself to enter a shop. He chose finally a 
 pearl and diamonds — one big white pearl, and a diamond
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 47 
 
 flashing on either side of it. It was in a pale blue velvet 
 case, lined with white satin. He was satisfied with his 
 purchase, and so was the salesman. 
 
 Cynthia'*s flush of delight as he disclosed it repaid 
 him superabundantly, and when the girl proudly dis- 
 played it to them, it was gratif^ang to observe her 
 parents' surprise. The expressions of admiration into 
 which Mrs. Walford broke were fervent, and she felt 
 instantaneously she could increase the income she had 
 decided he should possess by fully a third, in \iew of so 
 magnificent a substantiation of her tmthfulness. 
 
 His days were now delicious to Kent. A magic haze 
 enwrapped their stereotyped incidents, so that the teiTace 
 of the Casino, the veranda of the hotel. Nature, and the 
 polyglot lounging crowd itself, were all beatified. They 
 were as familiar things viewed in a charming dream — 
 * the pleasant fields traversed so oft,** which were still 
 more pleasant as they appeared to the sleeping soldier. 
 A tenderness overflowing from his o\m emotions was 
 diffused over the scenes, and he found it almost impos- 
 sible to realize sometimes that the goddess beside him, 
 who had been so unapproachable a month ago, was
 
 48 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 actually going to belong to him directly. It dazzled 
 him, and seemed incredible. 
 
 He had once sat down in the salon de lecture with 
 the intention of apprising Turquand of his felicity ; 
 but the knowledge that the news he had to give entailed 
 a defence, if he did not wish to write formally, had 
 resulted in his destroying the preparatory lines he had 
 achieved. Delicacy demanded that he should excuse 
 his action by word of mouth if excuses were required 
 at all. To do such a thing in permanent pen-strokes 
 looked to him profanation of an angel, and an insult to 
 the bounty of God. 
 
 Mr. Walford was unable to remain in Dieppe so long 
 as the day fixed for the others' return ; nor, he said 
 genially, was there any occasion for him to put himself 
 out now that he had a prospective son-in-law Iq take 
 his place. Humphrey was well content. He under- 
 stood that the elder lady was a bad sailor, and clmig 
 obstinately to the saloon, while Cynthia found the 
 passage enjoyable, and he anticipated several golden 
 hours to which the paternal presence would have proved 
 alloy.
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 49 
 
 He was not disappointed. Sustained by Heidsieck 
 and the stewardess, Mrs. Walford stayed below, as usual, 
 and he tasted the responsibility of ha\dng the girl in 
 his charge. He let the flavour dissolve on his palate 
 slowly. It was as if they were already on the honey- 
 moon, he thought, as they paced the deck together, or 
 he made her comfortable in a chair, and brought her 
 strawberries, and watched her eat them \vith amused 
 interest, vaguely conscious that he found it wonderful 
 to see her mouth unclose, and a delicate forefinger and 
 thumb get pinky. 
 
 ' You are sure you have the addi'ess right ?' she asked 
 once. ' Humphrey, fancy if you lost it, and could 
 never find us again after we said " Good-bye " to-day ! 
 Wouldn't it be awful ?' 
 
 ' Awful," he assented, smiling. 
 
 * Such a thing might happen,"* she declared. ' You 
 try and try your hardest to remember where we told 
 you we lived, but you can't. It is temble ! You go 
 mad "* 
 
 ' Or to a post-office," he said. 
 
 She laughed gaily. 
 
 VOL. I. 4
 
 50 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 ' How could you write to me when you^d forgotten 
 the address ? You Joolish fellow ! There, / was 
 brighter than you that time.' 
 
 He felt it would be prolix to explain that he was 
 thinking of a directory, and not of stamps. 
 
 ' Come, after that, I must really hear if youVe learnt 
 your lesson. What is it ? Quick !'' 
 
 ' You live in one of the seventy-seven thousand three 
 hundred and forty-nine houses in the suburbs that are 
 called The Hawthorns,"* he said. ' You would have 
 called it The Cedars, only that name was appro- 
 priated by the house next door. I take the train to 
 Streatham Hill — I must be very particular to say 
 " Hill,'' or catastrophes will happen. To begin with, 
 I shall lose an hour of your society ' 
 
 ' And dinner — dinner will certainly be over.' 
 
 ' Dinner will certainly be over. When I come out, I 
 turn to the right, pass the estate agent's, take the first 
 to the left, and recollect that I'm looking for a bow- 
 window and a white balcony, and a fence which makes 
 it impossible to see them. Do I know it ?' 
 
 ' Not impossible. But — yes, I'll trust you.'
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 51 
 
 He parted from the ladies at Victoria, and, getting 
 into a hansom, gave himself up to reflection. The 
 rooms he shared with Turquand were in the convenient, 
 if unfashionable, neighbourhood of Soho, and an all- 
 pervading odour of jam reminded him presently that 
 he was nearing his destination. He was not sure of 
 finding Turquand in at this hour. He opened the door 
 with his latchkey, and, dragging his portmanteaus into 
 the passage, ran upstaii-s. The journalist, in his shirt- 
 sleeves, was reading an evening paper, with his slippered 
 feet crossed upon the window-sill. 
 
 * Hallo !' he said ; ' youVe got back T 
 
 * Yes," said Humphrey. ' How the jam smells !' 
 
 ' Ifs raspbeiTy to-day. IVe decided the raspberry's 
 the most penetrating. How are you ?** 
 
 ' Dry, and hungiy too. Is there anything to drink 
 in the place T 
 
 ' There's a very fine brand of water on the landing, 
 and there's the remainder of a roll, extra sec, in the 
 cupboard, I believe. I finished the whisky last night. 
 We can go and have some dinner at the Suisse. Madame 
 is " desolee *" ; she's asked after you most tenderly.'
 
 52 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 * Good old Madame ! And her moustache P** 
 
 * More luxuriant."* 
 
 There was a pause, in which Humphrey considered 
 how best to impart his tidings. The other shifted his 
 feet, and contemplated the smoke-dried wall — the only 
 view from the window attainable. Kent stared at him. 
 It was displayed to him clearly for the first time that 
 his marriage would mean severance from Turquand, 
 and the Restaurant Suisse, and all that had been his 
 life hitherto, and that Turquand might feel it more 
 sorely than he expressed. He was sorry for Turquand. 
 He lounged over to the mantelpiece, and dipped his hand 
 in the familiar tobacco-jar, and filled a pipe before he 
 spoke. 
 
 'Well,' he said, with an elaborate effort to sound 
 careless, ' I suppose you'll hardly be astonished, old 
 chap — I am engaged."
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 TuRauAXD did not answer immediately. 
 
 ^No,' he rejoined at last; ' Fm not astonished. 
 Nothing could astonish me but good news. When is 
 the event to take place ?'* 
 
 ' That's not settled. Soon. . . . We shall always be 
 pals, Turk ?' 
 
 * ril come and see you sometimes — oh yes. Father 
 consented P"* 
 
 ' Things are quite smooth all round.** 
 
 * H'mph r 
 
 He looked hard at the wall and pulled his beard. 
 
 * You said it would happen, didn't you ? I didn't 
 see a glimmer of a possibility myself.' 
 
 ' Love's blind, you know.' 
 
 ' You said, too, it — er — it wouldn't be altogether a
 
 54 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 wise step. Yoiril change your mind about that one 
 day, Turk; 
 
 * Hope so," said Turquand. * Can't to-night." 
 ' You still believe I shall regi-et it ?' 
 
 * W'Tiat need is there to discuss it now ?' 
 ' Why shouldn't we ?"" 
 
 ' Why should we ? Why argue with a chap whether 
 the ice will bear after he has made a hole in it ?' 
 
 'We shan't be extravagant, and I shall work like 
 blazes. I've a plot simmering already.' 
 
 ' Happy ending this time ?' 
 
 * I don't quite see it to be consistent ; no.' 
 
 ' You must manage it. They like happy endings, 
 consistent or not.' 
 
 ' Damn it, I mean to be true ! I wori't sell my birth- 
 right for a third edition ! I shall work like blazes, 
 and we shall live quite quietly somewhere in a little 
 house "* 
 
 ' That's impossible,' said Turquand. ' You may live 
 in a little house, or you may live quietly, but you can't 
 do both things simultaneously.' 
 
 *In the subm-bs — in Streatham, probably. Her
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHH^ISTINES 55 
 
 people live in Streatham, and of course she would like 
 to be near them."* 
 
 * And you will have a general servant, eh, with large 
 and fiery hands — like Cornelia downstaii-s ? Only she 
 will look woi"se than Cornelia, because youi* wife will 
 dress her up in muslins and streamei-s, and try to dis- 
 guise the generality. If you work in the front of your 
 pretty little house, your nervous system will be shattered 
 by the shrieks of yoiu' neighbours'* children swinging on 
 the gates — forty-pound-a-year houses in the suburbs 
 are infested with children ; nothing seems to exter- 
 minate them, and the inevitable gates groan like souls 
 in hell — and if you choose the back, you'll be assisted 
 by the arrival of the joint, and the vegetables, and the 
 slap of the milk-cans, and Cornelia the Second's alter- 
 cations with the errand-boys. A general servant with 
 a tin pail alone is warranted to make herself heard for 
 eleven hundred and sixty yards.' 
 
 'Life hasn't made an optimist of you,' observed 
 Kent, less cheerfully, 'that you talk about "happy 
 endings." ' 
 
 'The optimist is like the poet — ^he's bom, he isnt
 
 56 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 made. Speaking of life, I suppose you'll assure yours 
 when you marry ?' 
 
 * Yes/ said Kent meditatively ; * yes, thafs a good 
 idea. I shall. . . . But your suggestions are none too 
 exhilarating," he added ; ' let's go to dinner.' 
 
 The sub-editor put on his jacket and sought his 
 boots. 
 
 Tm ready,' he affirmed. *By the way, I never 
 thought to inquire. Mrs. Walford hasn't a large 
 family, has she .?' 
 
 ' A son as well, that's all. -Why ?' 
 
 ' I congratulate you,' said Turquand ; it was the first 
 time the word had passed his lips. *It's a truism to 
 say a man should never marry anybody ; but if he must 
 blunder with someone, let him choose an only child, if 
 possible. Marrying into a large family's more expensive 
 still. His wife has for ever got a sister having a wedding, 
 or a christening, or a birthday, and wanting a present ; 
 or a brother asking for a loan, or dying, and plunging 
 her into costly crape. Yes, I congratulate you.' 
 
 Humphrey did not express any thanks, and he deter- 
 mined that his engagement was a subject he would
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 57 
 
 avoid as much as he could in their conversations together 
 henceforward. 
 
 He was due at The Ha\Ni:homs the follomng after- 
 noon at five oVlock, and his impatience to see the girl 
 again was intensified by the knowledge that he was 
 about to see her in her home. The day was tedious. 
 In the morning it was showery, and he was chagrined 
 to think that he was doomed to enter the dra^ving-room 
 in muddy shoes ; but after Imich the sky cleared, and 
 when he reached Victoria the pavements were dry. 
 The train started late, and travelled slowly; but he 
 heard a porter bawling ' Stretta Mill !^ on the w elcome 
 platform at last, and, making the station's acquaintance 
 with affectionate eyes, he hastened up the steps, and in 
 the direction of the house. 
 
 He was prepossessed by its exterior, and his anticipa- 
 tions were confirmed on entering the hall. 
 
 Mrs. Walford was in the garden, he was told, and the 
 parlourmaid conducted him there. It was an extremely 
 charming garden. It was well designed, and it had a 
 cedar and a tennis-court, which was pleasant to look at, 
 though tennis was not an accomplishment his life had
 
 58 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 furnished opportunities for mastering ; and it contained 
 a tea-table under the cedar's boughs, and Cynthia in a 
 deck-chair and a ravishing frock. 
 
 He was welcomed with effusion, and presented his 
 bon-bons. Mr. Walford, already returned from town, 
 was quite parental in his greeting. Tea was very nice 
 and English in the cedar''s shade and Cynthia''s presence. 
 It was very nice, too, to be made so much of under the 
 circumstances. Really they were very delightful people ! 
 
 The son was in Germany, he learnt. 
 
 ' We could have given you a treat else, my boy,' ex- 
 claimed the stockjobber, ' if you are fond of music. 
 You will hear a voice when he comes back. That's 
 luck for a fellow, to be born with an organ like Caesar's ! 
 He'll be making five hundred a week in twelve months. 
 I tell you it's wonderful.' 
 
 ' " Five hundred a week " !' echoed Mrs. Walford. 
 * He'll be getting more than five hundred a week, I hope, 
 before long. They get two or three hundred a night — 
 not voices as fine as Caesar's — and won't go on the stage 
 till they have had their money, either. You talk such 
 nonsense, Sam . . . absurd !'
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHU^ISTINES 59 
 
 ' I said " in twelve months,"*' "* mimnured her husband 
 deprecatingly. ' I said " in twelve months,*" my dear.' 
 He turned to Kent, and added confidential!}-, 'There 
 isn't a bass in existence to compare with him. You'll 
 say so when you hear. All, let me introduce you to 
 another member of the family — my wife's sister.' 
 
 Kent saw that they had been joined by a spare little 
 woman with a thin, pursed mouth and a nose slightly 
 pink. She was e\ddently a maiden lady, and his hostess's 
 senior. Her tones were tart, and when she said she 
 was pleased to meet him, he permitted himself no 
 illusion that she spoke the truth. 
 
 Miss Wix, as a matter of fact, was not particularly 
 pleased to meet anybody. She lived with the Walfords 
 because she had no means of her own, and it was 
 essential for her to live somewhere ; but she accepted 
 her dependence \vith mental indigTiation, and fate had 
 soured her. Under a chilly demeanom- she often burned 
 secretly with the consciousness that she was not wanted, 
 and the knowledge found expression at long intervals in 
 an emotional outbreak, in which she quarrelled with 
 Louisa ^dolently, and proclaimed an immediate inten-
 
 60 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 tion of ' taking a situation.' What kind of situation 
 she thought she was competent to fill nobody attempted 
 to conjecture, neither did the ' threat' ever impose on 
 anyone, nor did she take more than a preliminary step 
 towards fulfilling it. She nursed the ' Wanted ' columns 
 of the Telegraph ostentatiously for a day or two, and 
 waited for the olive-branch. The household were aware 
 she must be persuaded to forgive them, and she always 
 was, and relapsed into the acidulated person, in whom 
 hysteria looked impossible, again. But the outbreak 
 would be repeated a year or so later, and she then 
 threatened to ' take a situation "* quite as vehemently 
 as before. 
 
 ' Tea, Aunt Emily ?' 
 
 ' Yes, please, if it hasn't got cold.' 
 
 Humphrey bore it to her. She stirred the cup 
 briskly, and eyed him with critical disfavour. 
 
 ' I've read your book, Mr. Kent.' 
 
 * Oh,' he responded, as she did not say any more. 
 *■ Have you. Miss Wix ?' 
 
 * Very good, I'm sure,' she brought out, after a further 
 silence. He would not have imagined the simple words
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 61 
 
 could convey so clearly that she thought it very small 
 beer indeed. 'I suppose youVe in the middle of 
 another T 
 
 ' No,' he replied, ' not yet/ 
 
 ' Really P 
 
 She ob\iously considered that he ought to be. 
 
 * You should call her " aunt,'' ' exclaimed Sam Walford. 
 ' You'll have to call her " Aunt Emily." We don't go 
 in for formality, you'll find, my boy. Rough diamonds ! 
 Take us or leave us as what we are — eh, Emily T 
 
 'Perhaps IVIr. Kent thinks it would be rather pre- 
 mature,' suggested Miss Wix. 
 
 He talked to C}Tithia. 
 
 Fi-uit and fowls might be admired if he liked, and 
 she and papa took him on a tour of inspection. Tliere 
 were moments when he was alone with CMithia, while 
 her father discovered that there were not any eggs. 
 
 ' He is very good-looking,' said Mrs. Walford ; ' don't 
 you think so ?' 
 
 ' I can't say he struck me as being remarkable for 
 beauty,' said the spinster. 
 
 ' I did not say he was " remarkable for beauty," but
 
 62 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 he has — er — distinction — decided distinction. Tm sur- 
 prised you don''t see it. And he has very fine eyes.' 
 
 ' His eyes won't give ""em any carriage-and-pair,'' opined 
 Miss Wix. ' / used to have fine eyes, my dear, but Tve 
 stared at hard times so long.' 
 
 ' I don't know where the " hard times " come in, Tm 
 sure,' replied Mrs. Walford sharply. ' And he wanted 
 to give her a carriage directly they married, but Sam's 
 forbidden it.' 
 
 The maiden sniffed. 
 
 ' He is most modest for his position. I tell you, he 
 was chased in Dieppe ; the women ran after him. A 
 Baroness in the hotel positively threw her daughter at 
 his head. . . . He wouldn't look at anybody but 
 Cynthia. . . . The Baroness was miserable the day the 
 engagement was known.' 
 
 ' Cynthia should be very proud,' returned her sister 
 dryly. 
 
 ' Oh, of course the girl is making a wonderful match 
 — no doubt about it ! He sold his novel for an extra 
 ordinary sum — quite extraordinary ! — and the publisher 
 have implored him to let them have another at his own
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 63 
 
 terms ; I saw the telegrams. . . . Astonishing position 
 for such a yomig man !' 
 
 ' She's very lucky V 
 
 ' She's a very taking girl. Her smile is so sweet, and 
 her teeth are quite perfect.' 
 
 *She was in luck to meet such a "catch" — some 
 people didn't have the opportunity. ... I once had a 
 beautiful set of teeth,' added Miss AVix morosely ; * but 
 you can't pick rich husbands off gooseberry-bushes.' 
 
 On the white balcony, after dinner, Kent begged 
 Cynthia to fix the wedding-day. After she had named 
 one in May, it was agreed that, subject to her parents' 
 approval, they should be married two months hence. 
 He made his way to the station about eleven, with a 
 flower in his coat and rapture in his soul. 
 
 The first weeks of the period were interminable. 
 
 He went to The Hawthorns daily, and Mrs. Walford 
 was so good as to look about for a house for them in 
 the neighbourhood. He was in love, but he was not a 
 fool ; he was determined that he would not cripple 
 himself at the outset by assuming unjustifiable respon- 
 sibilities, and in conference with the fiancee he intimated
 
 64 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 that it would be preposterous for them to think of 
 paying a higher rent than fifty pounds. Cynthia was 
 a Httle disappointed, for mamma had just seen a 
 villa at sixty-five that was a picturesque duck. He 
 strangled an impulse to say, 'We'll take it," and re- 
 peated that as soon as their circumstances brightened 
 they could remove. She did not argue the point, 
 though the rara avis evidently allured her, and Kent 
 felt her acquiescence to be very gracious, and trusted 
 she did not consider him mean. 
 
 If he was resolved to avoid burdening himself with a 
 heavy rental, however, he was not deeply concerned 
 about the extent of the outlay made on furniture. As 
 Mrs. Walford pointed out, the things would always be 
 there, and once they were bought, they were bought. 
 In her company they visited the Tottenham Court 
 Road every morning for a week, and this one sped more 
 quickly to him than any yet. It was a foretaste of 
 life with Cynthia to choose armchairs, and etchings, 
 and ornaments, and the rest, for their home together. 
 They had now selected one at the desirable fifty pounds ; 
 it was about ten minutes'* walk from The Hawthorns^
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 65 
 
 a semi-detached erection in red brick, with nice wide 
 ^vindows, and electric bells, and rose-trees on either side 
 of the tessellated path. They wanted to be able to 
 drive up to it when they returned from the honey- 
 moon and find it ready for them. Mrs. Walford would 
 procure the kitchen utensils and engage a ser\^ant during 
 their absence, and all they had to do themselves was to 
 buy the articles of interest, and settle the wall-papers, 
 and have little intermediate lunches, and go back to 
 the shop, and sip tea while rolls of carpet were dis- 
 played. It was great fun. 
 
 The pictures in the catalogues, though, never seemed 
 quite realized by the originals, and it was generally 
 necessary to purchase something of a more expensive 
 description than they had proposed. But, again, ' once 
 it was bought, it was bought.** The recollection was 
 sustaining. If Kent felt blank when he contemplated 
 the total of what they had spent, and remembered that 
 the kitchen clamoured still, he reflected that to kiss 
 Cynthia in such a jolly little menage would certainly 
 be charming, and the girl averred ecstatically that the 
 dessert-service ' looked better than mammals !' He esti- 
 VOL. I. 5
 
 66 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 mated that they could live with perfect comfort at the 
 rate of two hundred and fifty per annum — for the first 
 year, at all events, and by then he would have com- 
 pleted a novel which, in view of the press notices he 
 had obtained, he believed he could dispose of for quite 
 as much. Even if he did not, there would be a sub- 
 stantial sum remaining of his capital, and with the 
 
 third book No, he had no cause for dismay, he 
 
 thought ; and, indeed, he had not. 
 
 They had decided upon Mentone for the wedding 
 trip — a fortnight. It was quite enough, and they 
 would rather be somewhere like that for a fortnight 
 than in Bournemouth or Ventnor for a month. It 
 would amount to the same thing pecuniarily, and be 
 much more pleasant. 
 
 'The morning after we come back, darling,^ said 
 Kent, ' I shall go straight to my desk after breakfast, 
 and you know you'll see scarcely more of me till evening 
 than if I were a business man, and had to go to the 
 City; 
 
 ' Y-e-s,** concurred Cynthia meekly. ' Of course ; I 
 understand."
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 IVIr. and ^Irs. Walford's offerino; was to be a errand 
 piano — or a semi-grand possibly, since the drawing- 
 room was not extensive — and with a son being educated 
 for the musical profession, it was natin^al they should 
 wait till he returned before selecting it, so that they 
 might have the advantage of his judgment. 
 
 He was travelling on the Continent with Pincocca, 
 the master under whom he studied. On hearingr of his 
 sister's engagement, he had at once despatched affec- 
 tionate letters, and now he was expected home in two 
 or three days to make !Mr. Kent's acquaintance, and 
 tender his felicitations in person. 
 
 -" The better Kent learnt to know the A^''alfords, the 
 more clearly he perceived how inordinately proud they 
 were of their son. Caesar's arrival and Csesar's ap-
 
 68 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 proaching debut were topics discussed with a frequency 
 he found tedious. Even Cynthia was so excited by the 
 prospect of reunion that a tete-a-tete with her lost 
 a little of its fascination, and he occasionally feared, if 
 his prospective brother-in-law did not arrive without 
 delay, he would have been bored into a cordial dislike 
 for him by the time they met. He foresaw himself 
 telling him so at a distant date, when they were inti- 
 mate, and that they would joke over the matter 
 together. Miss Wix alone appeared untainted by the 
 prevailing enthusiasm, and the first ray of friendliness 
 for the spinster of which he had been conscious was 
 when he caught a glance of comprehension from her 
 little eyes one afternoon after the subject had been dis- 
 cussed energetically for upwards of half an hour. It 
 struck him there was even a gleam of ironical humour 
 in her gaze. 
 
 'Enthralling, isn't it?' she seemed to say. *What 
 do you think of 'em .?' 
 
 He said to Cynthia later : 
 
 * They do talk about your brother and his voice an 
 awful lot, dearest, don't they ?'
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 69 
 
 She looked somewhat startled. 
 
 ' Well, I suppose we do,"* she answered slowly, ' now you 
 point it out. But I didn't know. You see, ever since 
 his voice was discovered, Caesar's been brought up for the 
 profession. AMien youVe heard it, you'll understand.' 
 
 * Is it really so magnificent ?' he asked respectfully. 
 
 ' Oh, I'm sure you'll say so. Signor Pincocca told 
 mamma it would be a crime if she didn't let him study 
 seriously for the career. And Caesar has been under 
 him years since then. Pincocca says when he " comes 
 out "" people will rave about him. If he had only had 
 just a "fine voice,'' he would have gone on the Stock 
 Exchange, you know, with papa ; but — but there could 
 be no question about it with a gift like that.' 
 
 Kent acknowledged it was natural that they should 
 be profoundly interested by the young fellow's promise, 
 and privately wished that a literary man could also leap 
 into fame and fortune with his debut. 
 
 The next afternoon when he reached The HaAvthoms 
 he heard that Caesar had already come — indeed, he had 
 divined as much by Mrs. Walford's jubilant air in 
 greeting. At the moment the traveller was not in the
 
 70 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 room, however, and Cynthia ran in haste to summon 
 him. Humphrey awaited his entrance with consider- 
 able curiosity, heightened by the fact that the mother 
 kept looking towards the door as impatiently as a child 
 towards the curtain that is to disclose the glories of a 
 pantomime. 
 
 ' I don't know what is keeping him,'' she said 
 in her most staccato tones. ' He went to fetch my 
 book. Oh, he'll be here in a minute — or shall 
 we go and look for him ? Perhaps he is in the 
 garden, and Cynthia can't find him. What do you 
 say ?' 
 
 ' Just as you please,' said Kent. 
 
 But as he spoke the girl returned, to announce that 
 her brother was following her, and the next moment 
 there was an atmosphere of hrillantine and tuberoses, 
 and Humphrey found his finger-tips being gently pressed 
 in a large, soft palm. 
 
 ' I am charmed !' said Caesar Walford with a sweet, 
 lingering smile. ' Charmed !' 
 
 Kent saw a fat young man of six or seven and 
 twenty, with an enormous chest development, and a
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 71 
 
 waist that suggested he wore stays, and was abeady 
 wrestling with his figure. His hair, which had been 
 grown long, was an^anged on his forehead in a negligent 
 curl, and his shirt-collar, low in the neck, lay back over 
 a floAving bow. 
 
 ' Tm very pleased to meet you,"* said the author ^^ith 
 disgust. 
 
 * I am charmed !' repeated Caesar tenderly. ' It is 
 quite a delight ! And it's you who are going to take 
 Cynthia away from us, eh T He glanced from one to 
 the other, and shook a playful forefinger. ' You bad 
 man ! . . . O wicked puss I** 
 
 Mrs. Walford \iewed these ponderous antics beam- 
 ingly. 
 
 * There'*s grace !'' her expression cried. * There's 
 dramatic gesture for you !' 
 
 Again Humphrey's gaze sought the sour spinster's, 
 and — yes, her own was eloquent. 
 
 He sipped his tea abstractedly. So this was the 
 gifted being of whom he had heard so much — this 
 dreadful creature who bulged out of his frock-coat, and 
 minced, and posed, and was alternately frisky and
 
 72 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 pompous. What a connection to have ! Was it 
 possible his voice was so wonderful as they all declared, 
 or would that be a disap^^ointment too ? In any case, 
 his self-complacence made a stranger sick. 
 
 It was about two hours after dinner when the young 
 man was begged to oblige the company, and Humphrey, 
 who was now truly eager to hear him, feared for a long 
 while that the persuasions would not succeed, for the 
 coming bass objected in turn to Wagner and Verdi, and 
 all the songs in his repertoire. He shrugged his 
 shoulders pityingly at this one, had forgotten that, and 
 was not equal this evening to a third. At length, how- 
 ever, Cynthia rose, and declared that he should give 
 them 'Infelice.'' Ernani was 'intolerable,' but, since 
 they would not let him alone, he crossed languidly to 
 her side. 
 
 A hush of suspense settled upon the long drawing- 
 room. Sam Walford fixed Kent with a stare as if 
 he meant to watch the admiration forming in him. 
 Louisa, the hilarious and untruthful, appeared to be 
 experiencing some divine emotion even before the song 
 began. Miss Wix closed her eyes, with her mouth
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 7^ 
 
 to one side. Then the young man languished at the 
 gasalier, and roared. 
 
 It was a marvellous roar. No one could dispute 
 that he possessed a voice of really phenomenal power, 
 if it were once conceded that it was a voice, in the 
 musical ^nse, at all. It seemed as if he must burst 
 his corsets, and shift the fumitui'e — that the very 
 ceiling itself must crack with the noise he sent up. 
 The perspiration broke out on him, and rolled dovra. 
 his face as he writhed at the gas-globes. His large 
 body was contorted with exertion, but he never faltered. 
 Bellow upon bellow he emitted to the welcome end, 
 tiU C}Tithia struck the final chord, and he bowed. 
 
 ' A performance ?' said ^Ir. Walford to Kent proudly. 
 Kent said indeed it was. 
 
 The compliments were effusive. It was discussed 
 whether he was, or was not, ' in voice ' to-night. He 
 averred that to ' lose himself "* when he sang he needed 
 Pincocca at the piano, and sank into his chair again 
 and mopped his brow. 
 
 'The amateur accompaniment is very painful," he 
 said winningly.
 
 74 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 Kent made his adieux earlier than was his habit, 
 explaining that he had work to do. 
 
 The momentous date was now close at hand, and 
 Turquand, who had not refused to be best man, had 
 made a present which was indubitably handsome in 
 view of his chronic impecuniosity and his opinions. In 
 the days that intervened Humphrey and he alike found 
 it impracticable to banish the important subject from 
 their colloquies, and it was arranged that on the eve 
 of the ceremony they should have a * bachelor dinner "* 
 by themselves, and subsequently smoke a few cigars 
 together in a music-hall. Neither wanted anybody 
 else, nor, in point of fact, did Humphrey know many 
 men to invite. For the time to attend the wedding 
 the journalist had characteristically applied on the 
 grounds of ' a bereavement,** and, though he had not 
 confessed it to Kent, he was more than ever convinced, 
 as he watched him collect his possessions, and pore 
 over a Continental Bradshaw, and fondle the sacred 
 ring, that he had used the right term. 
 
 It was a wet evening — the eve of the wedding-day. 
 A yellow mist hung over Soho, and a light rain had
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 75 
 
 fallen doggedly since noon, turning the grease of the 
 pavements to slush. On the moist air the smell of 
 the jam clung persistently, and along the narrow streets 
 fewer children played tip-cat than was usual in the 
 neighbourhood. 
 
 Kent's impedimenta were packed and labelled, and 
 among the litter a bro^vn - paper parcel contained 
 the costume of the groomsman. The coat would be 
 creased by to-morrow, and he knew it ; but he had 
 a repugnance to undoing the parcel earlier than 
 was compulsory, and once, when Kent had not been 
 looking, he had kicked it. 
 
 The two men put up their collars, and made their 
 way across the square. 
 
 ' Are you sure we'll go to the Suisse ?' asked Kent. 
 ' It isn't festive, Turk/ 
 
 ' Yes, let's go to the Suisse,' said Turquand grumpily. 
 * If s close.' 
 
 Both were aware that its proximity was not the 
 reason it had been chosen, but the pretence was de- 
 sirable, 
 
 ' AVe'll have champagne, of com-se,' said Humphrey,
 
 76 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 as they passed in, and took their seats at their customary 
 little table, with its half-yard of crusty bread and damp 
 sendettes. ' We'll have champagne, and — and be lively. 
 For Heaven's sake don't look as if you were at a funeral, 
 Turk ! This is to be an enjoyable evening. Where's 
 the wine-list ?' 
 
 * I don't suppose there's such a thing as champagne 
 in the show,' said Turquand. ' Auguste will think 
 you're getting at him.' 
 
 Auguste was prevailed upon to believe that the 
 demand was made in sober earnest. Monsieur really 
 desired champagne. Monsieur also considered that he 
 had better run out for it, as he did for the ' bittare ' 
 when it was wanted — voila! Madame, at the semi- 
 circular counter, waved her fat hand in their direction 
 gaily. Monsieur had inherited a fortune, it was 
 evident ! 
 
 ' Well,' said Turquand, when the waiter returned 
 and the cork had popped, 'here's luck. Wish you 
 lots of happiness, old chap, I'm sure.' 
 
 * Same to you,' murmured Kent. ' God knows I do. 
 It's awful muck, this stuff, isn't it ? What's he brought .?'
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 77 
 
 ' It^s what you ordered. Your mouth's out of taste. 
 Eat some more kidneys.'' 
 
 Humphrey shook his head. 
 
 'I suppose you'll come here to-moiTOw evening — 
 the same as usual, eh T 
 
 ' May as well, I suppose. One's got to feed somewhere. 
 You'll be all rice and raptui'e then. Fll think of you.' 
 
 ' Do. I don't know how it is ; but — but just now, 
 
 somehow, between ourselves But perhaps I oughtn't 
 
 to say that. ... I say, don't think I was going to — to 
 
 I wouldn't have you think I meant I wasn't fond of 
 her, old boy, for the world. You don't think that, 
 do you ? She — oh, Heaven ! — she's a perfect angel, 
 Tui'k ! . . . Fill up your glass, for goodness' sake, man, 
 and do look jolly! Turk, next time we dine together 
 it'll be at Streatham, and there'll be a little hostess 
 to make you welcome ; and — and there'll always be a 
 bottle of Irish, old man, and we'll keep a pipe in the 
 rack with the biggest bowl we can find, and call it 
 yours. By God, we will !' 
 
 ' Yes,' said Turquand huskily. . . . ' Going to have any 
 more of this stew ?'
 
 78 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 ' Fve had enough ; help yourself/ 
 
 'No, Fm not ravenous either — smoked too much, 
 perhaps. I say, Madame doesn''t know yet ; better 
 tell her."* 
 
 She was induced to join them presently, and to drink 
 a glass of champagne, enchanted by the invitation ; 
 Monsieur Kent was always tres gentil ; but champagne ! 
 was it that he celebrated already another romance ? 
 Comment ! he was going to be married — rievare ? But 
 yes — and to-morrow ! Oh, mon Dieu ! She rocked 
 herself to and fro, and screamed the intelligence 
 down the dinner-lift to her husband in the kitchen. 
 Alors, they must drink a chartreuse with her — she 
 insisted. Yes, and she would have one of Mon- 
 sieur Kent's cigarettes. To the health of the happy 
 pair ! 
 
 Outside, the rain was still falling as they left the 
 Restaurant Suisse and tramped to a music-hall. Here 
 their entrance was unfortunately timed. Some capital 
 turns appeared earlier in the programme, some excellent 
 ones figured lower down ; but during the half-hour that 
 they remained the monotony of the material which the
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 7^ 
 
 average music-hall 'comedian' regards as humorous 
 struck Kent more forcibly than ever. Wives eloped 
 ^^dth the lodgers, or husbands beat their wives and got 
 drunk with *the boys/ There seemed nothing else — 
 nothing but conjugal infelicity ; it was rang-tang-tang 
 on the one vulgar, discordant note. 
 
 * IVe had enough of this,' he said ; ' let's go. What 
 time is it .''' 
 
 ' Time for a quiet pipe at home, and then to turn in 
 early. Let's cab it.' 
 
 They were glad to get off their wet boots, and to find 
 themselves once more in their o^ni shabby chairs. But 
 Cornelia had let the fire out, and the dismantled room 
 was chilly. Turquand produced the whisky and the 
 glasses, and, blowing a cloud, they drew up to the cold 
 hearth, remarking that there had been a change in the 
 weather, and a fire would have been out of place on such 
 a night. 
 
 ' It looks bare without my things, doesn't it ?' 
 observed Kent. ' One wouldn't have believed they 
 made so much difference.' 
 
 ' Yes,' assented Turquand.
 
 80 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 ' You^ll have to get some books for that shelf there, 
 you know ; ifs awful empty.' 
 
 Turquand shivered, and said he should. 
 
 * You aren't cold?' 
 
 ' Cold ? Not a bit — no. You were saying ' 
 
 * I don't know ; I wasn't saying anything particular. 
 I'll write you from Mentone, old fellow — not at once, 
 but you shall have a line.' 
 
 * Thanks,' answered Turquand ; ' be glad to hear from 
 you.' 
 
 ' Not that there'll be anything to say.' 
 
 'No, of course not. Still, you may just as well 
 twaddle a bit, if you will.' 
 
 There was a pause, while the pair smoked slowly, 
 each busy with his thoughts, and considering if any- 
 thing of what he felt could be said without its sounding 
 sentimental. Both were remembering that they would 
 never be sitting at home together in the room again, 
 and though it had many faults, it assumed to the one 
 who was leaving it a 'tender grace' now. He had 
 written his novel at that table; his first review had 
 come to him here. Associations crept out and trailed
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 81 
 
 across the floor ; he felt that this room must always 
 contain an integral portion of his life. And Turquand 
 would miss him. 
 
 ' Be dull for you to-morrow evening, rather, I'm afraid, 
 wonU it ?"" he said in a burst. 
 
 ' Oh, I was alone while you were in Dieppe, you know. 
 I shall jog along all right. . . . YouVe bought a desk for 
 yourself, haven't you ?"* 
 
 ' Yes. Swagger, eh ?'* 
 
 ' You won't " know where yer are." . . . What's that — 
 do you feel a draught ?"" 
 
 'No — I — well, perhaps there is a draught now you 
 mention it. Yes, I shall work in style when we come 
 back. Strange feeling, going to be married, Turk.' 
 
 ' Is it ?" said Turquand. ' Haven't had the experience. 
 Hope Mi's. Kent will like me — they never do in fiction 
 You . . . you might tell her I'm not a bad sort of a damned 
 fool, will you? And — er — I want to say, don't have 
 the funks about asking me to your house once in a way, 
 old chap, when I shan't be a nuisance ; take my oath 
 I'll never shock your wife, Humphrey . . . too fond of you. 
 , . . Be as careful as — as i/ou can, I give you my word.** 
 
 VOL. I. 6
 
 82 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 His teeth closed round his pipe tightly. Neither 
 man looked at the other ; Humphrey put out his hand 
 without speaking, and Turquand gripped it. There was 
 a silence again. Both stared at the dead ashes. The 
 clock of St. Giles-in-the-Fields tolled twelve, and neither 
 commented on it, though they simultaneously reflected 
 that it was now the marriage morning. 
 
 ' Strikes me we were nearly making bally asses of our- 
 selves,** said Turquand at last, in a shaky voice. ' Finish 
 your whisky, and let's to bed.'
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 As the wheels began to revolve, he looked at the girl 
 with thanksgiving. Perhaps the top thought in the 
 tangle of his consciousness was that he was relieved the 
 worry and publicity of the day were over. They were 
 married. For good or for ill — for always — whether 
 things went well or went badly vvith him, she was his 
 vnfe now ! He realized the fact much more clearly here 
 while the train rushed forward, than he had done when 
 making his responses at the altar ; indeed, at the altar 
 he had realized little but the awkwardness of his 
 attitude, and that C}Tithia was very nervous. And he 
 was glad ; but, knowing that he was glad, he wondered 
 vaguely why he did not feel more exhilaration. 
 
 They were alone in the compartment, and he took her 
 hand and spoke to her. She answered by an ob\dous
 
 84 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 effort, and both sat gazing from the window over the 
 flying fields. She thought of her home, and that 
 ' everything was very strange," and that she would have 
 liked to cry ' properly,' without having Humphrey's 
 eyes upon her. He speculated whether she would like to 
 cry while he affected to be unaware of it behind a paper, 
 or if she would imagine he wanted to read, and consider 
 him unfeeling. He thought that a wedding-day was a 
 very exhausting experience for a girl, and that her 
 evident desire to avoid conversation was fortunate, since, 
 to save his soul, he could not think of anything to say 
 that was not stupid. He thought, also, though his 
 palate did not crave tobacco, that a cigar would have 
 assisted him tremendously, and that it was really 
 extraordinary to reflect that ' Cynthia Walford ' and he 
 were man and wife. 
 
 Next, he questioned inwardly what she was thinking, 
 and attempted, in a mental metamoi-phosis, to put him- 
 self in her place. It made him feel horribly sorry for 
 her. He pitied her hotly, though he could not say so ; 
 and by a sudden impulse he squeezed her gloved fingers 
 again, with remorseful compassion. At the moment
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 85 
 
 that he was moved to the demonstration, however, she 
 was really wishing that the dressmaker had cut the 
 corsage of her blue theatre frock square, instead of in a 
 ' V/ The engine screamed. Both spoke perfunctorily. 
 He congi'atulated himself on his character boasting a 
 feminine side which had made such insio^ht into her 
 mind possible. Some men would have failed to com- 
 prehend ! She felt that the tears with which she was 
 fighting had made her nose red, and longed for an 
 opportunity to use her powder-pufF. The train sped on. 
 
 As he sat by her side before the sea, he looked, 
 not at the girl, but ^^ithin him. He thought of the 
 book that had formed in his head, and perhaps his 
 paramount feeling was impatience, and the desire to find 
 the first chapter already shaping into words. They 
 were married. The unconscious pretences of the 
 betrothal period were over in both. To him, as well as 
 to her, the magic, the subtile enchantment, was past. 
 She was still C}Tithia — more than ever C}Tithia, he 
 understood ; but there had been a fascination when 
 * Cynthia ' was a goddess to him, which an acquaint-
 
 S6 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 ance with strings and buttons had destroyed. The 
 corylopsis stood in a squat little bottle with a silver 
 lid among brushes and hairpins on a toilet-table, and 
 his senses swam no more when he detected its faintness 
 on her gown. 
 
 Companionship, and not worship, was required now, 
 and neither found the other quite as companionable as 
 had been expected. This the girl in her heart excused 
 less readily than the man. Primarily, indeed, the latter 
 refused to acknowledge it. It was preposterous to 
 suppose, if they did not possess much in common, that 
 he would not have perceived the disparity during the 
 engagement. Then he reminded himself that his life 
 niiffht have rendered him a shade intolerant ; he must 
 remember that the subject of literary work, all-engross- 
 ing to his own mind, made on hers unaccustomed 
 demands. To try to phrase a sensation, the attempt to 
 seize a fleeting impression so delicately that it would 
 survive the process, and not expire on the pen''s point, 
 w^ere instinctive habits with himself; to her they ap- 
 peared motiveless and wearisome games. 
 
 He had endeavoured, in the novels they read together
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 87 
 
 dunng the honeymoon, to cultivate her appreciation of 
 what was fine ; for she had told him some of her favourite 
 authoresses, and he had shuddered. She had obtained a 
 book for herself one day, and offered it to him. He 
 thanked her, but said he was sui-e by the title that he 
 should not care for it. She answered that it was very 
 silly and unliterary — she had acquired that word — to 
 judge a book by what it was called. She was sui'prised 
 at him ! If she had done such a thing, he would have 
 ridiculed her. And, apart from that, she did not see 
 that * Winsome Winnie "* was a bad title. AMiat was 
 the matter with it ? 
 
 Kent said he could not explain. She declared with 
 a little triumphant laugh that that just showed how 
 wrong he was. 
 
 He made his endeavour very tenderly. To be looked 
 upon as the schoolmaster abroad was a constant dread 
 with him when he discovered that, if a similarity of 
 taste were to subsist between them, she would have to 
 advance or he must regi-ess. Sometimes — very occa- 
 sionally — he handed her a passage ^vith an air of taking 
 it for gi-anted the pleasure would be mutual, but her
 
 88 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 assent was always so constrained that he was forced to 
 realize that the cleverness of expression was lost upon her, 
 that the word-painting had to her painted nothing at all. 
 He wondered if his wife'^s dulness of vision fairly repre- 
 sented the eyes with which the novel-reading public read, 
 and if it was folly to spend an hour revising a paragraph in 
 which the majority would, after all, see no more artistry 
 than if it had been allowed to remain as it was written 
 first. He knew that it was^ in a man like himself, with 
 whom literature was a profession, and not a luxury, 
 though he was aware at the same time that he would 
 never be able to help it — that to the end there would 
 be nights when he went up to bed having written no 
 more than a hundred words all day, and yet with 
 elation, because, rightly or wrongly, he felt the 
 hundred words to have been admirably said. He 
 knew there would be evenings in the future, as there 
 had been in the past, when, after reading a page of 
 somebody else's novel with physical delight, he would 
 go and tear up five sheets of his own manuscript with 
 misery and disgust ; and he knew already — though he 
 shrank from admitting this — that when it happened he
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 89 
 
 would never be able to confess it to Cynthia, as he had 
 done to Turquand, because C}Tithia would find it 
 incredible and absurd. 
 
 The fortnight was near its conclusion, and both 
 looked forward to the return to England with eager- 
 ness. He would plunge into his work ; she would be 
 near The Hawthorns, and have friends to come to see 
 her. Neither of the pair regretted the step they had 
 taken ; each loved the other ; but a honeymoon was a 
 trying institution, viewed as a whole. 
 
 Presently, where they sat, she turned and put some 
 questions to him about his projected book. Her inten- 
 tions were praiseworthy; she was a good girl, and 
 having manned an author, she understood that it was 
 incumbent on her to take an interest in his vocation, 
 though perhaps, she had fancied once or twice, it might 
 really have been nicer if he had been a stock-jobber, 
 and not cared to discuss his business at home. Papa 
 never had, she knew. Discussing an author's work did 
 not seem so simple as she had assumed it would be. 
 There seemed so many tedious details that did not 
 matter to the story.
 
 90 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 ' When do you think it will be finished, Humphrey ?^ 
 she said. 
 
 ' In nine months, I hope, if I stick to it.** 
 
 ' So long as nine months ?** she exclaimed with sur- 
 prise. * Why, I\'e read — let me see — two, three new 
 ones of Mrs. St. Juliana's this year ! Will it r^eally take 
 so long as nine months ?** 
 
 ' Quite, sweetheart ; perhaps longer. I don't write 
 quickly, Fm sorry to say. Still, it won't be bad 
 business if Cousins pay the two hundred and fifty that 
 I expect. I think they ought to, after the way the last 
 has been received.'' 
 
 ' Some people get much more, don't they ?** 
 
 ' Just a trifle,' he said. ' Yes ; but I'm not a popular 
 writer, you see. Wait a bit, though; we'll astonish 
 your mother with our grandeurs yet. You shall have 
 a victoria, and two men on the box with powdered hair, 
 and drive out on a wet day, and splash mud at your 
 enemies.' 
 
 ' I don't think I have enemies,' she laughed. 
 
 ' You will when you have the victoria and pair, be 
 easy. Some poor beggar of an author who's hoping to
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 91 
 
 get two hundred and fifty pounds for nine months' toil 
 will look at you from a bus and cuss you."* 
 
 * Suppose you can''t get two hundred and fifty ?' she 
 inquired. ' You can^t be sure.^ 
 
 * Oh, well, if it were only a couple of hundi'ed, we 
 shouldn't have to go to the workhouse, you know. If 
 it comes to that, a hundred, the same as I got for the 
 other, would see us through, though of course I wouldn't 
 accept such a price. Don't begin to won-y youi' little 
 head about ways and means on your honeymoon, 
 darhng ; there's time enough for arithmetic. And it's 
 going to be good work. I've been practical, too. I 
 can end it happily, and retain a conscience. It's almost 
 a different plot from what it was when I commenced to 
 think, and it's better. It ends well, and it's better 
 — the thing's a Koh-i-noor !' 
 
 ' Tell me aU about it,' she suggested. 
 
 He complied enthusiastically. She was being very 
 sympathetic, and he felt ^v-ith perfect momentary 
 content how jolly it was to have a lovely wife and 
 talk these things over with her. Just what he had 
 pictured.
 
 92 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 * But wouldn't it be more exciting if you kept that a 
 mystery till the third volume ?' she said, at the end of 
 five minutes. 
 
 It was as if she had thrown a bucket of ice-water on 
 his animation. 
 
 ' I don't want it to be a mystery,' he said, speaking 
 more difficultly. 'That isn't the aim at all. What I 
 mean to do is to analyze the woman's sensations when 
 she learns it. I want to show how she feels and 
 suffers ; yes, and the temptation that she wrestles with, 
 and loathes herself for being too weak to put aside. 
 Don't you see — don't you see ?' 
 
 She was chiefly sensible that his pleasure had vanished, 
 and that the note of interest in his voice had died. 
 She, however, repeated her suggestion ; if she was to be 
 a critic, she must be prepared to maintain her literary 
 views. 
 
 ' I think all that would be much duller than if you 
 had the surprise,' she declared. 
 
 He did not argue — he did not attempt to demonstrate 
 that her suggestion amounted to proposing he should 
 write quite another story than the one he was talking
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 93 
 
 about ; he felt hopelessly that argument would be waste 
 of time. 
 
 ' Perhaps you are right,"* he said ; ' but one does what 
 one can/ 
 
 ' But you should say, " What one will^'' dear ; it can 
 be done whichever way you like."* 
 
 ' There is only one way possible to me, I assure you,' 
 he answered ; ' for once " the wrong way '' is the more 
 difficult; 
 
 * That which you think is the wrong way,' said 
 Cynthia, with gentle firmness. 
 
 He looked at her a moment incredulously. 
 
 ' Good Lord !' he said ; ' let me know something about 
 my o^vn business ! I don't want to pose on the strength 
 of a solitary novel — I'm not arrogant — but let me know 
 something — at all events, more than you ! Heavens 
 above ! a novehst devotes his life to trying to learn the 
 technique of an art which it wants three lifetimes 
 to acquire, and Mr. Jones, who is a solicitor, and 
 Mr. Smith the shoe manufacturer, and little iVIiss Pugh 
 of Putney, who don't know the first laws of fiction — 
 who aren't even aware there are any laws to know —
 
 94 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 are all prepared to tell him how his books should be 
 written.'' 
 
 ' I am not Miss Pugh of Putney,' she said. ' And if 
 I were, we all know whether we like a book or whether 
 we don'^t.'* 
 
 '"Liker' he echoed. 'To "like'' and to "criti- 
 cise" Men are paid to criticise books when they 
 
 can do it ; it's thought to be worth payment. Editors, 
 who don't exactly bubble over with generosity, sign 
 cheques for reviews. / don't pretend to teach Mr. Smith 
 how to make his shoes ; I've sense enough to understand 
 he knows the way better than I. Nor do these people 
 think they can teach a painter how to compose his 
 pictures, or that they can give a musician lessons in 
 orchestration. Why on earth should they imagine 
 they're competent to instruct a novelist ? It is absurd !' 
 
 ' Your comparisons are far-fetched,' she said. ' A 
 painter and a musician, we all know, have to study ; 
 they ' 
 
 ' They're entitled to the consideration due to a certain 
 amount of money sunk — eh ? That is really it. There 
 are thousands upon thousands of families belonging to
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 95 
 
 the upper middle classes in England to whom fiction 
 will never be an art, because the novelist hasn't been to 
 an academy and paid fees. As a matter of fact, it is 
 only in artistic and professional circles — and, one believes, 
 in " Society ,'*' as it is called — that a novelist in England 
 is regarded with any other feeling than good-humoured 
 contempt, unless he is publicly known to be making a 
 large income. The commercial majority smile at him. 
 TheyVe a shibboleth — Fm sure it will be famihar to 
 you : " You can't improve youi' mind by reading novels.'' 
 They are pei*suaded it's true. They have heard it ever 
 since they were children, in these families where no artist, 
 no professional man of any kind, has ever let in a little 
 light. " You can't improve your mind bv reading 
 novels" is one of the stock phrases of middle-class 
 English Philistia. Ask them if they improve their 
 minds by looking at pictures in the National Gallerv, 
 or even in the New, and they know it is essential 
 they should answer, " Certainly." Ask them how thev 
 do it, and they are " done." Of course, they don't 
 really improve their minds either wav, because, before 
 the contemplation of art in any form can be an}i:hing
 
 96 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 more than a vague amusement, a very much higher 
 standard of education than they have reached is neces- 
 sary ; only they have learnt to pretend about pictures. 
 It's an odd thing — or, perhaps, a natural one — that an 
 author of the sort of book that they are impressed by, 
 a scientist, a brain-worker of any description, literary 
 or not, talks and thinks of a novelist with respect, while 
 these people themselves find him beneath them/ 
 
 There was a silence, in which both stared again at 
 the sea. His irritation subsiding, it occurred to him 
 that he might have expressed his opinions less freely, 
 considering that Philistia was his wife^s birthplace. He 
 was beginning to excuse himself, when she interi-upted 
 him. 
 
 ' Don't let us discuss it any more, Humphrey,"* she 
 said, in a grieved voice, ' please ! I am sorry I said so 
 much,' 
 
 ' / was wrong,' said Kent ; ' I have vexed you.' 
 'No; I am not vexed," she replied, in a tone that 
 intimated she was only hurt. 
 
 * Cynthia, don't be angry ! . . . Make it up !' 
 
 She turned instantly, touching him with her hand
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 97 
 
 with a quick, pleased smile, and he set himself to efface 
 the effect of his ill-humour upon her mood \\ith entirely 
 successful results. As they strolled back to the hotel 
 side by side, he felt her to be a long way from him — 
 there was even a sense of physical remoteness. Mentally, 
 she did not seem so near as in the days of their earliest 
 acquaintance. He caught himself ^nshing he could 
 debate a certain point in construction with Turquand, 
 and from that it was the merest step to perceiving that 
 Mentone would be jollier if Turquand were \\'ith him 
 instead. He was appalled to think that such a fancy 
 should have crossed his brain, and strove guiltily to 
 believe it had not ; but once again he felt spiritless and 
 blank, and it was a labour to maintain the necessary 
 disguise. He obser^-ed forlornly that Cynthia always 
 appeared happiest in their intercourse when the inepti- 
 tude of it was weighing most heavily upon himself. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Mrs. Kent placed few obstacles in the way of her 
 husband's industry, and installed in Leamington Road, 
 Streatham, he commenced his novel, and deleted, and 
 destroyed, and rewrote, until at the expiration of three 
 weeks he had accomplished Chapter I. Primarily he 
 did not experience so many domestic discomforts to 
 impede him as Turquand had once predicted. Mrs. 
 Walford had obtained a very respectable and nice- 
 looking servant, whose only drawback was having a 
 father in a lunatic asylum, and the frequently expressed 
 misgiving that, if she were harassed by a multitude of 
 orders, she might be overtaken by a similar fate. Ann 
 was so 'superior,' Mrs. Walford explained, and a 
 ' general ' had really proved so difficult to procure, that 
 she had not allowed the thought of a hereditary taint
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 99 
 
 to disqualify her, and both the bride and bridegroom 
 declared she had been quite right. Cynthia confessed 
 later to finding it a little awkward when a duty was 
 neglected, since she was deterred from remonstrating by 
 the fear ' the girl might go mad at her "; but apart 
 from this Ann was an acquisition. 
 
 The author''s working hom's were supposed to be from 
 ten o'clock till seven, with an inten-al for lunch ; but 
 the iiTeo;ular habits of bachelorhood made it hard for 
 him to accustom himself to them, and it was often 
 agreed that he should take his leisure in the afternoon, 
 and reseat himself at his desk in the alluring hours of 
 lamplight, when the neighbours' children were at rest, 
 and the scales ceased from troubling. To these neigh- 
 bours he found he was an object of considerable 
 curiosity. He had never lived in a suburb hitherto, 
 and he discovered that for a man to remain at home all 
 day offered much food for conjectm-e there. Subse- 
 quently, in some inexplicable manner, his vocation 
 was ascertained, and then, when C}'nthia and he 
 strolled out, people whispered behind their window- 
 curtains, and stared at them ^nth smiles which
 
 100 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 suggested that they were not thought very respect- 
 able. 
 
 Of his wife's family he saw a good deal, both at 
 The Hawthorns and at No. 64, Leamington Road, 
 and his liking for his brother-in-law did not increase. 
 There was an air of condescension in Mr. Caesar 
 Walford's self-sufficiency that he found highly ex- 
 asperating. The bass's debut had been fixed during 
 their absence for the coming season, and he repeated 
 the newest compliments paid him by his master with 
 the languid assurance of an artist whose supremacy was 
 already acknowledged by all the world. The latest 
 burst of admiration into which Pincocca had been be- 
 trayed had always to be dragged by his parents from 
 reluctant lips, but he never forgot any of it. 
 
 Humphrey was sure the artist thought even less of 
 him than the neighbours. Fiction he rarely read, he 
 said. He said it with an elevation of his eyebrows, as if 
 novels were far beneath his attention. His eyebrows 
 were, in fact, singularly expressive, and he could dismiss 
 an author's claim to consideration, or ridicule a master- 
 piece, without uttering a word. There had been more
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 101 
 
 truth than is usual in such statements when Humphrey 
 had averred that he was not conceited on the score of 
 his unprofitable spurs, but when he contemplated the 
 complacent sneer by which this afiected young man 
 pronounced a novelist of reputation to be entirely 
 fatuous, he was galled. 
 
 Cynthia had told her mother how hard he was work- 
 ing, and once, when they were spending an evening at 
 The Hawthorns some weeks after their return, the 
 subject was mentioned. 
 
 'AVelV exclaimed the stock-jobber tolerantly, 'and 
 how''s the story ? — getting along, heh ?' 
 
 ' Yes," said Kent, ' Fm plodding on with it fairly 
 well, sir.' 
 
 He was aware his father-in-law did not take fiction 
 seriously, either, and he always felt a certain restraint in 
 speaking of his profession here. 
 
 ' And what's it about ?' asked IVIrs. Walford, much 
 in the indulgent tone in which one puts such a question 
 to a child. ' Have you made C}Tithia your lovely 
 heroine, and are you flirting ^\dth her at Dieppe again ? 
 /know what ifll be — hee ! hee ! hee ! Fm sure you meant
 
 102 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 yourself by the hero in your last book ; you know I told 
 you so long ago."* 
 
 He was convinced also that she would say it with 
 equal perspicacity about every book he wrote. 
 
 * N-no," he said, ' I shouldn't quite care to try to 
 make " copy '" out of my wife. It wouldn't be easy, and 
 it wouldn't be congenial.' 
 
 ' You ought to know her faults better than anybody 
 else's, I should think, by this time,' said Miss Wix 
 tartly. 
 
 ' And her virtues,' answered Humphrey. 
 
 ' Oh,' said Miss Wix, with acidulated humour, ' he 
 says two months are quite long enough to find out all 
 Cynthia's virtues, Louisa.' 
 
 ' I didn't hear him say anything of the sort,' said Mrs. 
 Walford crossly. ' Well, what is it about ? Tell us.' 
 
 He felt awkward and embarrassed. 
 
 ' I can't explain a plot ; I'm very stupid at it,' he said, 
 * You shall have a copy the moment it is published, 
 mater, and read the thing.' 
 
 ' I do wish he'd call me " mamma " 1' she cried. ' He 
 makes me feel a hundred years old.'
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 103 
 
 To divert the conversation, he inquired if she had 
 read the last of Henry James's, 
 
 * I don't know,' she said. ' Oh yes, they sent it me 
 from the library this week. It isn't bad ; I didn't like 
 it much. Did you read it, Caesar ?' 
 
 Caesar became conscious that people talked. 
 
 * Read ?' he echoed wearily. ' Read what ?' 
 
 * James's last. I forget what it was called — er — 
 something. I saw you ^\ith it the other day. A red 
 book.' 
 
 ' I looked through it. I had nothing to do.' 
 
 * Quite amusing,' she said, ' wasn't it ?' 
 
 ' I forget,' he murmured ; ' I never do remember these 
 things.' 
 
 ' It took a clever man some time to write,' said Kent ; 
 ' it might have been worth your attention for a whole 
 afternoon.' 
 
 The other was not distm-bed. Neither his confidence 
 nor his amiability was shaken. 
 
 ' Do you think so T he said with gentleness. * I carCt 
 read these things any more. There's nothing to be 
 gained. What does one acquire ? ^Miether Angelina
 
 104 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 marries Edwin, or whether she maiTies Charles- 
 
 He shook his head and smiled compassionately. Sam 
 Walford guffawed. ' When I feel that my mind's been 
 at too great a tension, I sometimes glance at a novel ; 
 but I'm afraid — I'm really afraid — I can't concede that 
 I should be justified in giving an afternoon to one.' 
 
 ' Caesar has his work to think of, you know,' put in 
 Cynthia ; ' he is not like us women.' 
 
 ' You'll find it a tough job to get the best of Caesar 
 in an argument,' added Walford good-humouredly, 
 
 'Oh, I don't deny that I have read novels in my 
 time. There was a time when I could read a yellow- 
 back.' He made this admission in the evident belief 
 that a book was far more frivolous in cardboard covers 
 than while it was in its first edition of cloth. ' But I 
 can't do it to-day.' 
 
 * Well,' cried Mrs. Walford, ' / must say I agree with 
 Humphrey. I must say I think it's — it's really very 
 clever to write a good novel. / couldn't write one ; I'm 
 sure I couldn't — I haven't the patience.' 
 
 ' Oh !' exclaimed Caesar, with charming confusion ; 
 ' it's Humphrey's own line — of course it is. I always
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHH^ISTINES 105 
 
 forget.' He turned to Kent deprecatingly : ' Do you 
 know, I never think of you as going in for that ; it's a 
 surprise every time I recollect it.' 
 
 Kent said it was really of no consequence whatever. 
 
 ' Well, well, well,' said AValford, ' everybody to his 
 trade. We can't all be born with a fortune in our 
 throats. Wish we could — eh, Humphrey, my boy? 
 Did you hear what Lassalle said about his voice the 
 other day ? Caesar, just tell Humphrey what Lassalle 
 said about your voice the other day.' 
 
 ' Oh, Humphrey doesn't want to listen to that long 
 story,' declared Mrs. Walford, ' I'm sure.' 
 
 He could do no less after this than express curiosity. 
 
 ' Well then, Caesar, tell us what it was.' 
 
 ' Do, Caesar,' entreated his sister ; ' I haven't heard, 
 either.' 
 
 ' A trifle,' he demurred, ' not interesting. I didn't 
 know I'd mentioned it.' 
 
 ' Oh yes,' said Miss Wix. ' Don't you remember you 
 told us the story at tea, and then you told it again 
 to your father at dinner ? But do tell Cynthia and 
 Humphrey.'
 
 106 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 ' I — er — dined with Pincocca last night at his rooms,' 
 he drawled. ' One or two men came in afterwards. 
 He introduced me. I didn't pay much attention to 
 the names — ^you know what it is — and by-and-by Pin- 
 cocca pressed me to sing. He said I was " a pupil,'" 
 and I could see one of the men was prepared to be 
 bored. . . . This really is so very personal that "^ 
 
 ' No, no, no ! go on. What nonsense !' said his 
 mother. 
 
 ' I could see he was prepared to be bored ; so I made 
 up my mind to — sing I I was nettled — very childish, I 
 admit it — but I was nettled. I didn't watch him while I 
 sang — I couldn't. I did better than I expected. I ' 
 
 ' You forgot everything^ said Sam Walford, ' / know.' 
 
 * I did, yes. I didn't think of Pincocca, or of him, 
 or of anybody in the room. When I had finished, he 
 came up to me, and said, "Mr. Walford, I am green 
 with jealousy. Ah, Heaven ! if / could command such 
 a career !" The man was Lassalle !' 
 
 ' Flattering ?' said his father to Kent. * Flattering ? 
 " If / could command such a career !" Eh .?' 
 
 Kent asked himself speechlessly if this thing could be.
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 107 
 
 * " If / could command such a career !"' ' reiterated 
 Mr. Walford. ' ^Yhat do you think of that ! He's 
 coming out in the spring, you know." 
 
 * Yes, so Fve heard,** said Humphrey. ' '\^^lere ?^ 
 
 ' That's not settled ; here in to^^'n, probably, at the 
 Opera House. He sang to the manager last week. 
 The man was — was altogether staggered.' 
 
 ' Ha !' said Kent perfunctorily. 
 
 ' There's never been anything heard like it. I tell 
 you, he'U take London by storm.' 
 
 ' "What / can't understand,' said ^Miss Wix, her mouth 
 pursed to a buttonhole, ' is how you didn't know Lassalle 
 directly he came in. Is he the only musical celebrity 
 you aren't intimate with .?' 
 
 Her nephew looked momentarily disconcerted. 
 
 * One doesn't know everybody,' he said feebly ; ' Las- 
 salle happened to be a man I'd not met.' 
 
 ' What do you mean, Emily .?' flared Mrs. Walford. 
 ' You don't imagine that Caesar made the story up, I 
 suppose ?' 
 
 *"Mean".^' said Miss Wix with wonder. '"Make 
 it up " ? \Miy should he make it up ? I said I did
 
 108 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 not understand, that is all. Quite a simple observa- 
 tion.'' 
 
 She rose, and seated herself stiffly on a distant couch. 
 Mrs. Walford panted, and turned to Humphrey, who 
 she was afraid had overheard. 
 
 'How very absurd,' she said jerkily — 'how very 
 absurd of her to make such a remark ! So liable to 
 misconstruction. By the way, do you see anything of 
 that Mr. Turkey — Turquand — what was he called .-^ — 
 now ? Has he — er — er — any influence on the press ?"* 
 
 ' He knows a good many people of a kind. Why do 
 you ask ?' 
 
 ' We shall be very pleased to see him,"* she said ; ' I 
 liked him very much. He might dine with us one 
 night — when there's nobody particular here. ... I 
 was thinking he might be useful to Caesar. The press 
 can be so spiteful, can't it — so very spiteful ? Of course, 
 Caesar will really be independent of criticism, but 
 still ' 
 
 ' Still, you'll give Turquand a dinner.' 
 
 ' Oh, you satirical villain !' she said playfully. ' Hee ! 
 hee ! hee ! You're all alike, you writing men ; you'll
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 109 
 
 even lash your mamma-in-law. Aren''t you going to 
 have anything to drink ? Sam, Humphrey has nothing 
 to drink. C}'nthia, a glass of wine ?' 
 
 The servant had entered with a salver and the tan- 
 talus, and Sam Walford proposed the toast of his son's 
 debut. They prepared to drink it, and it was noticed 
 then that Miss Wix sat alone in her distant comer. 
 
 * Emily, aren't you going to join us T 
 
 ' I beg your pardon, Emily ,** exclaimed Walford ; ' I 
 didn't know you were with us any longer, upon my word 
 I didn't.' 
 
 ' " The poor are always with us," ' said Miss Wix, in 
 a low and bitter voice. ' If it can be spared, a modicum 
 of whisky.' 
 
 ' Then, you'll tell Mr. Turquand we shall be happy 
 to see him ?' said Mrs. Walford to Kent. ' Don't forget 
 it. You might bring him in with you one evening — I 
 dare say he'll be very glad of the invitation — and he can 
 hear Caesar sing. What's your hun-y ? I want to talk 
 to Cynthia. You aren't going to write any more when 
 you get back, I suppose ?' 
 
 He acknowledged that he was — that he had taken
 
 110 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 his wife to a matinee with the understanding — but it 
 was past twelve when they left her mother''s house 
 and turned homeward through the silent suburb, to 
 which the railway had just yielded back a few theatre- 
 goers, weary and incongruous-looking. In the cold 
 clearness of the winter night the women^s long-cloaked 
 figures and flimsy headgears drooped dejectedly, and 
 the men, with their dress-trousers flapping thinly as 
 they walked by their side, appeared already oppressed 
 by the thought of the early breakfast to which 
 they would be summoned in time to hurry to the 
 station again. The prosperous residences lying back 
 behind spruce, trim shrubberies and curves of carriage- 
 drive finished abruptly, and then began borders in 
 which fifty pounds was already a distinguished rental. 
 The monotonous rows of villas, with their little 
 hackneyed gables, and their little hackneyed gates, their 
 painful grandiloquence of nomenclature, seemed to Kent 
 a pathetic expression of lives which had for the most 
 part reached the limit of their potentialities, and now 
 passed without ambition and without hope. Some 
 doubtless looked forward or looked back from the red
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHH^ISTINES 111 
 
 brick maze, but to the majority the race was run, and 
 this was conquest. He was about to comment on it, 
 but the girl was unusually quiet, and the remark upon 
 his lips was not one that would have been productive 
 of more than a monosyllabic assent under any circum- 
 stances. 
 
 Their front-garden slept. He unlocked the door, 
 and, saying that she was very tired, C}Tithia held up 
 her face immediately and went upstairs. After he 
 had extinguished the gas, Kent mounted to the little 
 room where he worked, and ht the lamp. Beyond the 
 window, over the bare trees, the moon was shining 
 whitely. He stood for a few moments staring out, and 
 thinking he scarcely knew of what ; then he seated 
 himself, and began to re-read the last page of the 
 manuscript that lay on the desk. He had just com- 
 menced to ^vi'ite, when Cynthia stole in and joined him. 
 
 ' Are yeu busy ?'' she asked. 
 
 * No, dearest,"* he said, surprised. ' "What is it ?' 
 
 She came forward, and hung beside him, fingering 
 the pen he had laid down. She had put on her 
 dressing-gown, and her hair was loose. She was very
 
 112 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 lovely, very youthful, so ; she looked like a child playing 
 at being a woman. The sleeves fell away, giving a 
 glimpse of the delicate forearms, and he thought the 
 softness of the neck she displayed seemed made for a 
 parent's kisses. 
 
 ' How cold it is !"* she murmured ; ' don'^t you feel it ?"* 
 
 ' You shouldn't have come in,' he said ; ' you'll take 
 a chill. You'd be better off in bed, Baby.' 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 ' I want to stop.' 
 
 ' Then, let me get you a rug and wrap you up.' He 
 rose, but she stayed him petulantly. 
 
 ' I don't want you to go away ; I want to speak to 
 you. . . . Humphrey '' 
 
 * Is anything the matter ?' 
 
 ' I've something to tell you.' She pricked the paper 
 nervously with the pen-point. ' Something . . . can't you 
 guess what it is, Humphrey ? Think — it's about me.'* 
 
 A tear splashed on to the paper between them. 
 Kent's heart gave one loud throb of comprehension, 
 and then yearned over her with the truest emotion that 
 she had wakened in him yet. He caught her close and
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 113 
 
 caressed her, while she clung to him sobbing spasmodi- 
 cally. 
 
 ' Oh, you do love me ? You do love me, don't you ? 
 she gasped. * Fm not a disappointment, avi I T 
 
 She slipped on to the hassock at his feet, resting her 
 head on his leg ; with the tumbled fairness of her hair 
 across his trouser as she crouched there, she looked 
 more like a child than ever, a penitent child begging 
 forgiveness for some fault. He swore she had fulfilled 
 and exceeded his most ardent dreams, that she was 
 sweeter in reality than his imagination had promised 
 him ; and he pitied her vehemently and remorsefully as 
 he spoke, because in such a moment she was answered 
 by a lie. The lamp, which the servant had neglected, 
 flickered and expired, and on a sudden the room, and 
 the two bent figures before the desk, were lit only by 
 the pallor of the moon. Cynthia turned herself, and 
 looked up in his face deprecatingly : 
 
 ' Oh, I am so sorry ; I meant to remind her. See, 
 I'm punished — Fm left in the dark myself.' 
 
 He stooped and kissed her. The fondness he felt for 
 her normally, intensified by compassion, assumed in this 
 
 VOL. I. 8
 
 114 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 ephemeral circumscription of idea the quality of love, 
 and he rejoiced to think that, after all, he was deceived, 
 and their union was indeed, indeed, the mental com- 
 panionship to which he had looked forward. He did 
 not withdraw his lips ; her mouth lay beneath them like 
 a flower, and, his arms enclosing her, she nestled to him 
 voicelessly, pervaded by a deep sense of restfulness and 
 content. In a transient ecstasy of illusive union their 
 spirits met, and life seemed to Kent divine.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 As, chapter by chapter, the novel grew under his hand, 
 Kent saw, from the little back-window, the snow disap- 
 pear and the bare trees grow green, till at last a fire 
 was no longer necessary in the room, and the wa-vdng 
 fields that he overlooked were yellow with buttercups. 
 
 He rose at six now, and accomplished about three 
 hoinrs"* work before Cynthia went down. Then they 
 breakfasted, and, \vith an effort to throw some interest 
 into her voice, she would inquire how he had been 
 getting on. He probably felt that he had not been 
 'getting on"* at all, and his response was not en- 
 couraging. Afterwards he would make an attempt 
 to read the newspaper, with his thoughts wandering 
 back to his manuscript, and Cynthia had an interview 
 with Ann. This interview, ostensibly concluded before
 
 116 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 he returned to his desk, was generally reopened as 
 soon as he took his seat, and for some unexplained 
 reason the sequel usually occurred on the stairs. * Oh, 
 what from the grocer'*s, ma'*am ?' ' So and so, and so 
 and so.' ' Yes, ma'am.' ' Oh, and — Ann !' ' What do 
 you say, ma'am ?' More instructions, interrupted by 
 a prolonged summons at the tradesman's door, and the 
 girl's rush to open it. ' What is it, Ann ?' ' The 
 fishmonger, ma'am.' ' Nothing this morning.' ' Nothing 
 this morning,' echoed by Ann ; the boy's departing 
 whistle. ' Ann !' ' Yes, ma'am,' ' Ask him how much 
 a pound the salmon is to-day.' ' Hi ! how much a 
 pound's the salmon ?' Meanwhile, Kent beat his fists on 
 the desk, and swore. Once he had pitched his pen 
 at the wall in a frenzy, and dashed on to the landing 
 to remonstrate ; but he felt such a brute when Cynthia 
 cried, and declared he had insulted her before the 
 servant, and it had wasted so much of his morning 
 kissing her into serenity again, that he decided it 
 would hinder him less on the whole to bear the 
 nuisance without complaint. 
 
 The ink-splashes on the wall-paper testified to his
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 117 
 
 having raged in private on more than the one occasion, 
 however, and the superior person's feet appeared to 
 him to grow hea\'ier every week. The domestic machinery 
 was in his ears from morning till nightfall — from the 
 time she began to bang about the house for cleaning 
 purposes to the hour that heard her rattle the last 
 of the dinner things in the scullery and go to bed. 
 It often seemed to him that it could not take much 
 longer washing the plates and dishes supplied for a 
 Lord Major's banquet than Ann took to wash those 
 used for his and Cynthia's simple meals, and when, 
 like the report of a cannon, she slammed the oven- 
 door, he yearned for his relinquished apartment in 
 Soho as for a lost paradise. 
 
 Nor was this all. His wife was less companionable 
 to him daily. Fifty times he had registered a mental 
 oath that he would abandon his hope of cultivating 
 her, and resign himself to her remaining what she 
 was ; but he had too much affection for her to succeed 
 in doing it yet, and \nth every fresh endeavour and 
 failure that he made his dissatisfaction was intensified. 
 He burned to talk about his work, about other men's
 
 118 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 work, to speak of his ambitions, to laugh with someone 
 over a witty article ; instead, their conversation was 
 of Caesar, whose debut had been postponed till the 
 autumn ; of the engagement of Dolly Brown, whom 
 he did not know, to young Styles, of Norwood, whom 
 he had not met ; of the laundi'ess, who had formerly 
 charged fourpence for a blouse, and who now asked 
 fivepence. When he pretended to be entertained, she 
 spoke of such things with animation. When he dropped 
 the mask, her manner as well as her topics was dull, 
 for she was as sensitive as she was uninteresting. Her 
 wistful question, whether she had proved a disappoint- 
 ment, frequently recurred to him, and to avoid wound- 
 ing her he affected good spirits more often than he 
 yawned ; but the strain was awful, and when he escaped 
 from it at length, and sank into a chair alone, it was 
 with the sense of exhaustion one feels after having been 
 saddled for an afternoon with a talkative child. The 
 oases in his desert were Turquand^s visits, but Turquand 
 never came without a definite invitation. Streatham 
 was a long distance from Soho, and there was always 
 the risk of finding that they had gone to the Walfords\
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 119 
 
 It was necessary to book to Streatham Hill, besides, 
 from the West End, and the service was appalling, 
 with the delays at the stations and the stoppages 
 between them, especially on the return journey, when 
 the train staggered to a standstill at almost every 
 hundred yards. 
 
 One evening when he dined with them, Humphrey gave 
 him some sheets of his manuscript to read. He did 
 not expect eulogies from Turquand, but he would 
 rather have had to listen to intelligent disapproval 
 than refrain from discussing the book any longer, 
 and when the other praised the work he was dehghted. 
 
 ' You really think it good ?"* he asked. ' Better than 
 the last ? You don't think they'll say I haven't ful- 
 filled its promise ? Honest Injun, you know.' 
 
 'Seems very strong,' said Turquand, sucking his 
 pipe. ' No, I don't think you need tremble if these 
 pages aren't the top strawberries. Rather Meredithian, 
 that line about her eyes in the pause, isn't it ? You 
 remember the one I mean, of course ?' 
 
 Kent laughed gaily. 
 
 ' It came like that,' he said. ' Fact ! Does it look
 
 120 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 like a deliberate imitation ? Would you alter it ? 
 Oh, I say, talking of lines, I'm ill with envy. " Occa- 
 sionally a girl kissed from behind as she stretched to 
 reach a honeysuckle, rent with a scream the sickly- 
 coloured, airless evening."*" The " sickly-coloured, air- 
 less evening."" Isn"t it admirable ? What do you think 
 of that for atmosphere ? And he"s got it with the 
 two adjectives. But the " honeysuckle ""' — the " honey- 
 suckle " in conjunction with that " sickly-coloured^ 
 airless "" — it's perfect !" 
 
 'Whose.?' 
 
 ' Moore's. I opened the book the other day, and 
 it was the first thing I saw. I had been hammering 
 out a lane and summer evening paragi'aph myself, 
 and when I read that, I knew there wasn't an " impres- 
 sion " in all my two hundred words.' 
 
 ' You shouldn't allow him to read, Mrs. Kent, while 
 he has work on the stocks,' said the journalist. *I 
 know this phase in your husband of old.' 
 
 'Yes, and you used to be very rude,' put in Kent 
 perfunctorily. ' My wife isn't. I can be depressed now 
 without being abused.'
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 121 
 
 Cynthia laughed. She was very pretty where she 
 lay back in the rocker by the window. Her face was 
 a trifle drawn now, but she looked girlish and gi-aceful 
 still. She looked a wife whom any man might be 
 proud to possess. 
 
 ' You didn't mention it,' she said ; ' I didn't know. 
 But I don't see an}i:hing wonderful in what you quoted, 
 I must say. Do you, Mr. Turquand ? I'm sure " sickly- 
 coloured, airless " doesn't mean anything at all.' 
 
 * It means a good deal to me,' answered Kent. ' I'd 
 give a fiver to have found that line.' 
 
 ' Cousins wouldn't give you any more for your book if 
 you had,' said Turquand. ' Put money in thy purse ! 
 I suppose you'll stick to Cousins ?' 
 
 '"Why not.^ Life's too short to find a publisher 
 who'll pay you what you think you're worth ; and they 
 were affable. Affability covers a multitude of sins, and 
 there's a lot of compensation in a compliment. Cousins 
 senior told me I'd a " great gift." ' 
 
 ' Perhaps he was referring to his hundred pounds.' 
 
 ' He was referring to my talent, though I says it as 
 shouldn't. That was your turn, Cynthia !'
 
 122 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 ' Yes,** said Turqiiand ; ' a \vife''s very valuable at 
 those moments, isn't she, Mrs. Kent ?' 
 
 ' How do you mean ?' said Cynthia, who found the 
 conversational pace inconveniently rapid. 
 
 'I shall send it to Cousins,'' pursued Humphrey 
 hastily ; ' and I want two hundred and fifty this time."* 
 
 ' They won't give it you.' 
 
 'Why not?' 
 
 * Partly because you'll accept less. And you haven't 
 gone into a second edition, remember.' 
 
 ' Look at the reviews !' 
 
 ' Cousins's will look at the sale. The thing will have 
 to be precious good for you to get as much as that.' 
 
 ' It will be precious good,' said Kent seriously. ' I'm 
 doing all I know ! You shall wade right through it 
 when it's finished, if you will, and tell me your honest 
 opinion. I won't say it's going to " live," or any rot 
 like that ; but it's the best work it is in me to do, and 
 it will be an advance on the other, that I'll swear.' 
 
 ' Mrs. St. Julian's last goes into a fourth edition next 
 week,' observed Turquand grimly, ' if that is any en- 
 couragement to you.'
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 123 
 
 ' Good Lord,"* said Kent, ' it only came out in January 1 
 Is that a fact ?' 
 
 ' " One of Life''s Little Ironies " ! Hers is the kind 
 of stuff to sell, my boy ! The largest public don^t want 
 nature and style ; they want a pooty story and virtue 
 rewarded. The poor " companion '*' rambles in the moon- 
 light and book-muslin, and has love passages in the 
 grounds at midnight — which wouldn't be respectable, 
 only she's so innocent. The heiress sighs for a title and 
 an establishment in Park Lane ; and the poor " com- 
 panion '"* says, " Give me a cottage, with the man I 
 love," making eyes at the biggest catch in the room, no 
 doubt, though the writer doesn't tell you that, and 
 hooks him. Blessed is the " companion " whose situa- 
 tion is in a lady-novelist's story, for she shall be called 
 the vnie of the lord. Sonny, the first mission of a novel 
 is to be a pecuniary success — you are an idiot ! Excuse 
 me, Mrs. Kent.' 
 
 ' You may give him all the good advice you can,' she 
 responded. ' I've said before that I like Mrs. St. Julian's 
 stories, but Humphrey has made up his mind not to. 
 That's firmness, I suppose, as he is a man.'
 
 124 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 ' Mr. Turquand scarcely implied that he liked them 
 either,' replied Kent. * Isn't it painful, though, to think 
 of the following a woman like that can command ? 
 What a world to write for — it breaks one's heart !' 
 
 * It's an over-rated place,' said Turquand ; * it's a fat- 
 headed, misguided, beast of a world !' 
 
 ' It isn't the world,' said Cynthia brightly ; ' it's the 
 people in it !' 
 
 A ghastly silence followed her comment, a pause in 
 which the journalist stared at the stove ornament, 
 affecting not to have heard her, and Kent felt the sick- 
 ness of death in his soul. Shame that his wife should 
 show herself so stupid in Turquand's presence paralyzed 
 his tongue, and the latter, pitying his embarrassment, 
 turned to the girl with an inquiry about her relatives. 
 Humphrey had taken him to The Hawthorns, as re- 
 quested, and Turquand, with characteristic perversity, 
 professed to have discovered a congenial spirit in 
 Miss Wix. It was about Miss Wix that he asked 
 now. 
 
 Cynthia laughed again.
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 125 
 
 ' Yes, your favourite is quite well/ she answered — ' as 
 cheerful as ever.' 
 
 ' Fate hasn't been kind to Miss Wix,' said Tui-quand ; 
 * she's been chastened and chidden too much. Under 
 other circumstances- "* 
 
 * Skittles !' said Humphrey. 
 
 * Under other circumstances, she might have been 
 sweeter, and less amusing. Personally, I am grateful 
 that there were not other circumstances. I like Miss 
 Wix as she is ; she refreshes me.' 
 
 ' I wish she had that effect on me,'' said Kent, as the 
 other rose to go, and he reflected gloomily that he 
 would hear nothing refreshing until the next time they 
 met. He begged him to remain a little longer, and, 
 when Turquand withstood his persuasions, insisted on 
 accompanying him to the station, and parted from him 
 on the platform with almost sentimental regret. 
 
 Only his interest in his book sustained him. He had 
 got deep enough into it to feel the fascination of it on 
 him now, and, though there were still days when he did 
 not produce more than a single page, there were others 
 on which composition was spontaneous and delightful,
 
 126 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 and happy sentences seemed to fall off his pen''s point of 
 their own accord. He wrote under difficulties when the 
 summer came, for Cynthia required more and more 
 attention ; but while he often devoted whole mornings 
 or afternoons to her, he made up for it by working on 
 the novel half through the night. More than once he 
 worked through it entirely, merely forsaking his desk to 
 splash in a bath before joining her at breakfast. On 
 such occasions, he was in a very good humour, and, to 
 have completed his felicity, it was only necessary for 
 him to have breakfasted with a woman to whom he 
 could have reported his progress, and cried, ' Fve come 
 to such a point,** or, ' That difficulty we foresaw, you 
 know, is overcome — a grand idea !"* His exhilaration 
 speedily evaporated at breakfast, and, if he returned to 
 his room an hour later, he did so feeling far less fresh 
 than when he had left it. 
 
 Yes, Cynthia demanded many attentions through the 
 summer months ; she was petulant, capricious, and dis- 
 solved in tears at the smallest provocation. There was 
 much for Kent to consider besides the novel, and also 
 there were anticipations in which they momentarily
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 127 
 
 united, and he felt her to be as close to him as she was 
 dear. But these moments could not make a life, and 
 despite the fact that the date when their baby was 
 expected to be bom was rapidly approaching, he was 
 living more and more within himself. C}Tithia had no 
 complaint to make against him ; if marriage was not 
 altogether the elysium she had imagined it would prove, 
 she did not hold that to be Humphrey's fault. She 
 found him, if eccentric, tender and considerate on the 
 whole, but he was bored and weary. His feeling for her 
 was the affection of a man for a child, tinged more or 
 less consciously by compassion, since he knew that she 
 would sob her heart out if she suspected how tedious 
 she appeared to him. Though she would have been a 
 happier woman -wdth a different man, the cost of the 
 mistake they had made was far more heavy to him than 
 to her. He realized what a mistake it had been, while 
 she was ignorant of it, and for this, at least, he was 
 glad.
 
 y 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 She was very ill after her confinement, and for several 
 weeks it was doubtful if she would recover. The boy 
 throve, but the mother seemed sinking. The local 
 doctor came three times a day, and a physician was 
 summoned for consultation, and then other consulta- 
 tions were held between the physician and a specialist, 
 and it appeared to Kent that he was never remembered 
 by Mrs. Walford or the nurse during this period, 
 excepting when he was required to write a cheque. 
 'You shall see her for a moment by -and -by," one or 
 the other of them would say ; ' she is to be kept very 
 quiet this afternoon. Yes, yes, now youVe not to worry ; 
 go and work, and you shall be sent for later on." Then 
 he would wander round the neglected little sitting-room, 
 and note drearily, and without its striking him he might
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 129 
 
 attend to them, that the ferns in the dusty majolica 
 pots were dying for want of water, or go to his desk, 
 and compose, by a dogged effort, at the rate of a word 
 a minute, asking himself more anxiously than he had 
 done hitherto what sum he might safely expect from 
 Messrs. Cousins. His banking account was diminishing 
 rapidly under the demands made upon it at this period, 
 and he found it almost as hard to yrrite a chapter of a 
 novel now as a man who had never attempted such a 
 thing before. He returned thanks to Heaven that he 
 was not a journaHst, to whom the necessity for covering 
 a certain number of pages by a stated hom- daily was 
 unavoidable, and wished himself a mechanic or a petty 
 tradesman, whose avocations, he presumed, could be 
 fulfilled independently of their moods. 
 
 It was not until the crisis was past, and Cynthia was 
 downstairs again in a wrapper on the sofa, that he began 
 to feel he was within measm-able distance of the con- 
 clusion. The nine months in which he had anticipated 
 completing the task had long gone by, but that it would 
 have taken him a year did not trouble him, for he knew 
 the work to be good. He told her so on an afternoon 
 
 VOL. I. 9
 
 130 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 when they were alone together again, she with her couch 
 drawn to the fire, and he sitting at the edge, holding 
 her hand. 
 
 ' Fm satisfied,' he declared. * When I say " satisfied,'' 
 you know what I mean, of course ; it's as well done as I 
 expected to do it. Another week, darling, will see it 
 finished.' 
 
 She patted his arm. 
 
 * Poor old boy ! it hasn't been a happy time for him 
 either, has it ?' 
 
 'I've known jollier. But you're all right again 
 now, thank God ! and I'm going to pack you off to 
 Bournemouth or somewhere soon, to bring your 
 colour back. I was speaking to Dr. Roberts about 
 it this morning. He said it was just what you 
 needed.' 
 
 ' I've been very expensive, Humphrey,' she said wist- 
 fully. ' How much ? We didn't think it would cost 
 so much as it has, did we ? You should have mamed 
 a big, strong woman, Humphrey, or ' 
 
 « Or what ?' 
 
 ' Or nobody,' she murmured.
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 131 
 
 The eyes she fixed upon the fire glittered. He 
 squeezed her hand, and laughed constrainedly. 
 
 ' Fm quite contented, thank you,' he said, in as light 
 a tone as he could manage. *What are you crying 
 for ? Your nurse will look daggers at me, and think 
 Fve been bullying you. Tell me — was she kind to 
 you ? IVe been haunted by the idea she was treating 
 you badly, and you were too frightened of her to let 
 anyone know. You're such a kid, little woman, in 
 some things — such an awful kid.' 
 
 ' Not such a kid as you imagine,' she said. ' I've 
 been thinking ; I've thought of many things since baby 
 was bom. Often when they believed I was asleep, I 
 used to lie and think and think, till I was ^vretched.' 
 
 'What did you think of?' asked Kent indulgently. 
 
 * You mustn't be vexed with me if I tell you. Fve 
 thought that, perhaps, although you don't feel it yet — 
 though you don't suppose you ever ii:ill feel it — that it 
 might have been best for you, seriously and really, if 
 you had married nobody, Humphrey ; if you had had 
 nothing to interfere with your work, and had lived on 
 with Mr. Turquand just as you were. There, now you
 
 132 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 are vexed. Bend down, and let me smooth that frown 
 away."* 
 
 ' Whatever put such a stupid idea into your head ?** 
 said Kent, wishing pityingly that he had not felt it 
 quite so often. ' Don't be a goose, sweetheart ! What 
 nonsense ! I should be perfectly lost without you." 
 
 'I think I suit you better than any other woman 
 would,' she said, with pathetic confidence ; ' but if you 
 had kept single — thafs what Fve doubted : if you 
 wouldn't be better off without a wife at all. Oh, you 
 should hear some of the stories nurse has told me of 
 places she has been in ! I didn't think there could be 
 such awfulness in the world. And in the first confine- 
 ment, too ! It makes one fear that no woman can ever 
 expect to understand any man.' 
 
 ' Hang your nurse !' responded Humphrey. ' Cackling 
 old fool ! I suppose in every situation she is in she 
 talks scandal about the last, and where there wasn't 
 any, she makes it up. When does she go ?' 
 
 ' She can't leave baby until we get another, you 
 know. At least, I hope she won't have to.' 
 
 ' Another ?' said Kent. 
 
 ■i^
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 133 
 
 * Another nurse. Mamma is going to advertise in 
 the Morning Post for us at once. We want a 
 thoroughly experienced woman, don't we, dear.? We 
 don't know anything about babies ourselves, and ' 
 
 ' Oh, an experienced one by all means,' he answered. 
 * Poor little soul ! we owe him as much as that. Life 
 is the cost of the parents' pleasure defrayed by the 
 child. We'll make the world as desirable to him as we 
 can.** 
 
 He paused for her to comment on his impromptu 
 definition of life, by which he was agreeably conscious 
 he had said something brilliant ; but it passed by her 
 unheeded. He reflected that Turquand would either 
 have accorded it approval, or picked it to pieces, and 
 that for it to go unnoticed altogether was hard. 
 
 She looked at him tenderly. 
 
 ' I knew you would say so,' she replied. ' It doesn't 
 really make much difference to our expenses whether 
 we pay twenty pounds a year or twenty-five, and to 
 the kind of nurse we shall get it makes all the difference 
 on earth. What shall we call him T 
 
 ' Him ! You're not going to get a man .?'
 
 134 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 ' Baby, you silly ! Have you thought of a name ? / 
 have.' 
 
 He was still wishing she had a sense of humour and 
 occasionally made a witty remark. 
 
 ' What ?' he inquired. 
 
 ' Yours. I want to call him Humphrey. \\Tiat do 
 you say to it T 
 
 ' ^Vhat for ? It's ugly. You said so the first time 
 you jerked it out. I think we might choose something 
 better than that.' 
 
 ' But it's yours,' she persisted. ' I want him called 
 by your name — I do, I do !' She held his hand tightly, 
 and her lips trembled. ' If ... if I were ever to lose 
 you, Humphrey, I should like our child to be called by 
 your name. Don't laugh at me ; I can't help feeling 
 that. That night when he was bom — oh, that night ! 
 shall I ever forget it ? — and Dr. Roberts looked across at 
 me and said, " Well, you have a little son come to see 
 you, Mrs. Kent," the first thing I thought was, " We 
 can call him Humphrey." I wanted to say it to you 
 when they let you in, but I couldn't, I was so tired ; I 
 thought it instead. When nurse brought him over to
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 135 
 
 me, or he cried, or I could see him moving under the 
 blanket in the bassinet, I thought, " There's my other 
 Humphrey."" ' 
 
 He kissed her, and sat staring at the fire, his con- 
 science clamorous. He had not realized that he had 
 grown so dear to her, and the discovery made his own 
 dissatisfaction crueller. He felt a thankless brute, a 
 beast. It seemed to him momentarily that the situa- 
 tion would be much less painful if the disappointment 
 were mutual — if she, too, were discontented with the 
 bargain she had made. To listen to her speaking in 
 such a fashion, and accept her devotion, knowing how 
 little devotion she inspired in return, stabbed him. He 
 asked himself what he had done that she should love 
 him so fondly. He had not openly neglected her, but 
 secretly he had done it often, and with relief. Had 
 she missed him when he had shut himself in his room, 
 not to write, but to ^rish he had never met her ? His 
 mind smote him. 
 
 The question obtruded itself into his reveries during 
 the following days, but now at least his plea of being 
 busy was always genuine enough, and he was TVTiting
 
 136 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 fiercely. The pile of manuscript to which he added 
 sheet after sheet was heavy and thick, and then there 
 came a morning when he went to bed at three, and rose 
 again at eight, to begin his final chapter, having told 
 the servant he should not go down for luncheon, but 
 that she was to bring a sandwich and a glass of claret 
 into the room. When one o'clock struck, and she 
 entered, tobacco had left him with no appetite and a 
 furred tongue. He threw a ' thank you ' at her, and 
 remained in the same bent attitude, his pen traversing 
 the paper steadily. He was working with an exaltation 
 which rarely seized him, and with which the novelist of 
 fiction is depicted as working all the time. In his 
 aspect he was untidy enough to have served as an 
 admirable model for that personage. He had not 
 shaved for three days, and a growth of stubbly beard 
 intensified his look of weariness, due to the want of 
 sufficient sleep. 
 
 The wind was causing the fire to be more a nuisance 
 than a comfort, and every now and again a gust of 
 smoke shot out of the narrow stove, obscuring the page 
 before him, and making him cough and swear. The
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 13T 
 
 atmosphere was \'il]ainous, but, saWng in these moments, 
 he was imconscious of it. He was near the closin cr 
 lines. His empty pipe was gripped between his teeth, 
 and he wanted to refill it, but wa§ tJ not regained 
 eyes from the paper while he stretched for his^^Jher 
 and the matches. He was instinctively aware that he 
 should refill it the instant he had written tii^-. interest 
 but now an access of uncertainty assailed him, and he 
 could not decide upon them. He stared at the paper 
 without daring to set a sentence down, and drew at the 
 empty bowl mechanically, his palate cradng for the taste 
 of tobacco, while his sight was magnetized by the pen's 
 point hovering under his hand. He sat so for a quarter 
 of an hour. Then he wrote with supreme satisfaction 
 what he hgid thought of first, and rejected as impossible. 
 His pen was dropped. He drew a breath of thanksgiving 
 and relief, and lit his pipe. His novel was done. 
 
 Unlike the novelist of fiction whom he resembled 
 exteriorly, he did not weep that the characters who had 
 peopled his solitude for the past twelvemonths, and 
 whom he loved, were about to leave him for the harsher 
 criticism of the world. He was profoundly glad. He
 
 138 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 felt exhilaration leap in his jaded veins as he picked up 
 his pen again and added ' The End.' He felt that he 
 was free of an enormous lo^d, a tremendous responsi- 
 again at eight, to ^:>/ /aitted himself well. Every 
 the ser^^ J ' ._,^ rare cx':3ptions, for a year he had, so to 
 .1 /if/'j. ii»'' ^iiis unfinished novel staring him 
 into the ro-- ^ ..:gnt during a year he had gone up 
 tne stairs to the bedroom remembering what a lump of 
 writing remained to be added to it still. And now it 
 was finished ; nor could he do it better. Blessed 
 thought ! If he recast it chapter by chapter and 
 phrase by phrase, he could not handle the idea more 
 carefully or strongly than he had handled it in the 
 bulky package that lay in front of him — the story told ! 
 He was anxious to forward it to the publishers with- 
 out delay, but Turquand had so recently referred to his 
 expectation of reading it in the manuscript that he 
 despatched it to Soho first. ' Send it back quickly,"* he 
 begged, and the journalises answer in returning the 
 parcel reached him on the next evening but one. He 
 showed it to Cynthia delightedly. Turquand wrote 
 very warmly. The manuscript was sent to Messrs.
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 139 
 
 Cousins with a note, requesting them to give it their 
 early consideration ; and now Kent was asked constantly 
 by the Walfords if they had written yet, and what 
 terms he had obtained. Cjnthia had not regained 
 enough strength to care to travel at present, and her 
 parents and brother generally spent the evening at 
 No. 64, where, truth to tell, Kent found the interest 
 his wife's parents manifested in the matter rather a 
 nuisance. His father-in-law e\ddently held that it was 
 derogatory for him to be kept waiting a fortnight for 
 his publishers' offer, and Mrs. Walford made so many 
 foolish inquiries and ridiculous suggestions that he was 
 sometimes in danger of being rude. Caesar alone dis- 
 played no curiosity in a matter so frivolous, but listened 
 with his superior air, which tried Kent's patience even 
 more. The fat young man's debut had been postponed 
 again. Now he was to appear for certain in the spring, 
 and he explained, in a tone implying that he could, if 
 he might, impart esoteric and extraordinary facts, that 
 the delay had been politic. 
 
 ' No outsider can have any idea,' he said languidly, 
 'what wheels within wheels there are in our world.'
 
 140 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 (He meant the operatic world, into which he was 
 ambitious to squeeze a foot.) 'This last season it 
 would have been madness for a new bass to sing in 
 London ; he was doomed before he opened his mouth — 
 doomed !"* He looked at the ceiling with a meditative 
 smile, as if dwelling upon curiously amusing circum- 
 stances. ' Very funny !"* he added. 
 
 Excepting his master, he did not know a professional 
 singer in England, and, whenever a benefit concert was 
 to be given, would chase the organizer all over the 
 town in hansoms, and telegraph him for an appoint- 
 ment *on urgent business,' in the hope of prevailing 
 upon him to let him appear at it ; but his assurance 
 was so consummate that — albeit one was aware he had 
 not yet done anything at all — he almost persuaded one 
 while he talked that he was the pivot round which the 
 musical world revolved. Caesar excepted, Kent had 
 really no grounds for complaint against the Walfords. 
 The others' queries might worry him, but their 
 cordiality was extreme ; and they made Cynthia relate 
 Turquand's opinion of the book — for which no title had 
 been found — again and again. Even the stock-jobber's
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 141 
 
 view that a fortnight's silence was surprising was due to 
 an exaggerated estimate of the author's importance, 
 and Mrs. Walford, when she refrained from giving him 
 ad\ice, appeared to think him a good deal cleverer now 
 that the manuscript was in Messrs. Cousins' hands than 
 she had done while it was lying on his desk. Indeed, 
 there were moments at this stage when his mother-in- 
 law gushed at him with an ardour that reminded him 
 of the early days of his acquaintance ^nth her in 
 Dieppe.
 
 CHAPTER XI: 
 
 'Well, have those pubhshers of yours made you an 
 offer yet ?' 
 
 ' No, sir ; I haven'*t heard from them.' 
 
 * You should drop them a line,' said Walford irritably. 
 ' Dam nonsense ! How long have they had the thing 
 now ?' 
 
 ' About three weeks.' 
 
 ' Drop 'em a line ! They may keep you waiting a 
 month if you don't wake them up. Don't you think 
 so, Cynthia ? He ought to write.' 
 
 ^ I dare say we shall have a letter in a day or two, 
 papa. We were afraid you weren't coming round this 
 evening ; you're late. How d'ye do, mamma ? How 
 d'ye do. Aunt Emily ?' 
 
 ' And how are you ?' asked Mrs. Walford. ' Have
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES US 
 
 you made up your mind about Bournemouth yet ? She 
 is quite fit to go now, Humphrey. You ought to pack 
 her off at once ; there's nothing to wait for now youVe 
 got your nurse. How does she suit you ?"" 
 
 ' She seems all right," said Cynthia, rather doubtfully. 
 ' A little consequential, perhaps — I3iat is all." 
 
 ' Oh, you mustn't stand any airs and graces ; put 
 her in her place at the start. AMiat has she 
 done ?^ 
 
 ' She hasn'^t done anything, only '' 
 
 ' She's our first,"* explained Kent, ' and we're somewhat 
 in awe of her. She was surprised to find that there 
 weren't two nurseries — she is frequently " surprised," 
 and then we apologize to her.' 
 
 ' Don't be so absurd !' murmured his wife ; ' he does 
 exaggerate so, mamma ! No ; but, of course, she has 
 always been in better situations, with people richer than 
 us. . . . " Us .?" ' she repeated questioningly, looking at 
 Kent with a smile. 
 
 He laughed a negative. 
 
 * Than we, then ! And she is the least bit in the 
 world too self-important.'
 
 144. A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 ' Than " we '' ?" echoed Mrs. Walford. * Than « we "" ? 
 Nonsense! "Than w^'T 
 
 Kent pulled his moustache silently, and there was a 
 moment's pause. 
 
 * Than us f said the lady again defiantly. ' Unques- 
 tionably it is " than us "" !' 
 
 ' Very well," he replied ; ' Fm not arguing about it, 
 mater.' 
 
 ' / always say " than us,"' ' said Sam Walford good- 
 humouredly. ' Ain't it right T 
 
 ' No,' said Miss Wix ; ' of course it isn't, Sam/ 
 
 ' Ridiculous !' declared Mrs. Walford, with asperity. 
 * " Than we " is quite wrong — quite ungrammatical. I 
 don't care who says it isn't — I say it w.' 
 
 ' A literary man might have been supposed to know,' 
 said Miss Wix ironically. ' But Humphrey is mistaken 
 too, then T 
 
 ' What is the difference — what does it matter ?' put 
 in Cynthia. 'There is nothing to get excited about, 
 mamma.' 
 
 ' I'm not in the least excited,' said her mother, with a 
 white face ; ' but I don't accept anybody's contradiction
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 145 
 
 on such a point. Fm not to be con\inced to the contrary 
 when Fm sure Fm correct.' 
 
 ' Well, let^s return to our muttons," said Kent. ' Once 
 upon a time there was a nurse, and " 
 
 * Oh, you are very funny !' Mrs. Walford exclaimed. 
 ' Let me tell you, you don't know an}'thing about it. 
 And as to Emily, I don't take any notice of her at all. 
 She may say what she likes.'' 
 
 * What I like is the Queen's English," said Miss AVix, 
 ' since you don't mind. This lively conversation nmst 
 be very good for Cynthia. Humphrey, you're quite a 
 member of the family, you see. We are i-ude to one 
 another in front of you. Isn't it nice 'f 
 
 * I shouldn't come to you to learn politeness, either,' 
 retorted Mrs. Walford hotly. ' I shouldn't come to 
 you to learn politeness or gTammar, either. You are 
 most rude yourself — most ill-bred !' 
 
 'That'll do — that'll do.' said the stock-jobber; 'we 
 don't want a row. Dam it ! let everybody say what 
 they choose ; it ain't a hanging matter, I suppose, if 
 they're wrong.' 
 
 ' Fm not wrong, Sam. Humphrey, just tell me this : 
 
 VOL. I. 10
 
 146 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 Do you say " than whom " or " than who '' ? Now, 
 then !' 
 
 'You say "than whom," but it's the one instance 
 where the comparative does govern the objective in 
 Enghsh. And Angus, or Morell, or somebody august, 
 even denies that it ought to govern it there." 
 
 She looked momentarily disconcerted. Then she said : 
 
 ' All I maintain is that " than we '' is very pedantic 
 in ordinary conversation — very pedantic indeed ; and I 
 shall stick to my opinion if you argue for ever. " Than 
 us" is much more usual, and much more euphonious. 
 I consider it's much more euphonious than the other. I 
 prefer it altogether.' 
 
 Miss Wix emitted a little tart laugh. 
 
 ' You may consider it more euphonious to say " heggs " 
 and " happles," ' she observed ; ' but I suppose you don't 
 do it.' 
 
 Her sister turned to her wrathfully, and the ensuing 
 passage at arms was terminated by the spinster putting 
 her handkerchief to her eyes and beginning to cry. 
 
 ' I am not to be spoken to so,' she faltered — ' I am 
 not ! Oh, I quite understand — I know what it means ;
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 147 
 
 but this is the last time I Avill be trampled on and 
 insulted — the last time, Sam.' 
 
 * Don't be a fool, Emily ; nobody wants to " trample '^ 
 on you. You can give as good as you get, too. What 
 an infernal rumpus about nothing, anyhow ! Ton my 
 soul ! I think you have both gone crazy."* 
 
 * I am in the way — yes ; and I am shown every 
 hour that I'm in the way !' she sobbed, in crescendo. 
 * Humphi'ey is a mtness how I am treated. I will not 
 stop where I'm not wanted. This is the end of it. I 
 will go — I will take a situation !' 
 
 Everybody excepting the offender endeavom-ed to 
 pacify her. Cynthia put an arm about her waist, and 
 spoke consolingly, while Walford patted her on the 
 back. Humphrey brought her whisky-and-water, but 
 she waved it aside violently, reiterating her resolve. 
 
 ' I will take a situation ; I have made up my mind. 
 Thank Heaven ! I'm not quite dependent on a sister 
 and a brother-in-law yet. Thank Heaven ! I have the 
 health to work for my living. I would rather live in 
 one room on a pound a week than remain with you. I 
 shall leave your house the moment I can get something
 
 148 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 to do. I will be a paid " companion "' — I will go into 
 a shop !' And she went into hysterics. 
 
 When she recovered from the attack, she drank the 
 whisky-and- water tearfully, and begged Kent to escort 
 her back to The Hawthorns at once. He complied 
 amiably, and attempted on the way to dissuade her 
 from the determination she had expressed. It was his 
 first experience of this phase of Miss Wix, and he was 
 a good deal surprised by the valour she displayed. 
 Her weakness had passed, and the light of resolution 
 shone in the little woman's eye. Her nostrils were 
 expanded ; her carriage was firm and erect. He felt 
 it was no empty boast when she asserted stoutly that 
 she should go to a registry-office on the morrow — nor 
 was it ; she probably would do as much as that — she 
 was quite sincere. But the prospect of employment 
 was as the martyr's stake or an arena full of lions, to 
 her mind ; and, after the office had been visited, the 
 decision of her manner would perceptibly decrease, and 
 the heroism in her eye subside, until at last she trembled 
 in a cold perspiration lest her relatives meant to take 
 her at her word.
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 149 
 
 * It will be a small household if you go,' he said ; ' I 
 suppose Caesar won't live at home after he " comes out,'*' 
 and your sister and brother-in-law will be left by them- 
 selves.' 
 
 Miss Wix sniffed. 
 
 ' IJ^en he "comes out."' 
 
 ' Yes ; he seems to have been rather a long while 
 doing it,' answered Kent. 'But there can't be any 
 doubt about it this time ; the agreement for the spring 
 is dra^vTi up, and signed, I hear.' 
 
 They were passing a lamp-post. Miss Wix's mouth 
 was the size of a sixpence, and her eyebrows had entirely 
 disappeared under her bonnet. 
 
 ' It always is,' she said. ' The agreements are always 
 drawTi up, and signed — and MTitten in invisible ink. I 
 don't seem to remember the time when that young man 
 xcasri't coming out " next spring," and I knew him in 
 his cradle. He was an affected horror then.' 
 
 Kent laughed to himself in walking home ; he had 
 suspected the accuracy of the proud parents' statements 
 before, just as he suspected when he had been invited 
 to meet an operatic celebrity at dinner at The Haw-
 
 150 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 thorns, who sent the telegram of excuse which was 
 shown him to explain the non-arrival of the star. He 
 wondered how much the Walfords"* foolishness and his 
 pupil's vanity had been worth to the Italian singing- 
 master, who gesticulated about the drawing-room and 
 foretold such triumphs. 
 
 When he re-entered No. 64, he was relieved to find 
 the company quite cheerful again ; they even seemed to 
 be in high spirits, and the cause was promptly ascer- 
 tained. Cynthia pointed radiantly to a letter that was 
 lying on the table. 
 
 ' For you,** she cried, ' from Cousins. Read it 
 quickly ; we're all dying of impatience, but I wouldn't 
 open it. How did you leave Aimt Emily ?' 
 
 * She is going to bed,' he said, tearing the envelope 
 apart. 
 
 His heaii: had leapt, and he only trusted he was not 
 destined to be damped by the suggested price. The others 
 sat eagerly regarding him, waiting for him to speak. 
 Cynthia tried to guess the amount by his expression. 
 
 ' Well,' said Mrs. Walford at last—' well ? What do 
 they say .?'
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES ]51 
 
 Kent put the note down slowly with a face from 
 which all the colour had gone. His lips shook, and 
 his voice was not under control as he answered. 
 
 ' They haven'*t accepted it,' he said huskily ; ' they 
 are returning it to me. They don't think it's good.' 
 
 ' "\ATiat ?' she ejaculated. 
 
 ' Oh, Humphrey !' she heard Cynthia gasp ; and then 
 there were some seconds in which he was conscious that 
 everyone was staring at him, and would have paid 
 heavily to be in the room alone. That Messrs. 
 Cousins might refuse the book after such reviews as had 
 been ^vi-itten upon his last was a calamity that he had 
 never contemplated, and he felt absolutely paralyzed 
 and speechless. "When he had been despondent he had 
 imagined the publishers proposing to pay a couple of 
 hundred pounds for it ; when he had been gloomier 
 still, he had fancied the sum would be a hundred and 
 fifty ; in moments of profound depression he had even 
 groaned, ' I shan't obtain a shilling more for it than I 
 did for the other one.' But to be rejected, 'declined 
 with thanks,' was a shock for which he was totally 
 unprepared. It almost dazed him.
 
 152 A DAUGHTER OF THP: PHILISTINES 
 
 ' What do you mean ?"* demanded Sam AValford, 
 breaking the silence angrily. ' Not accepting it ? But 
 — but — this is a fine sort of thing ! It takes you a 
 year to write, and then they don't accept it. A dam 
 good business you're in, upon my word !"* 
 
 ' Hush, Sam !' said Mrs. Walford. ' What do they 
 say ? what reason do they give ? Let me look.' 
 
 Kent handed her the letter mutely, his wife watching 
 him with startled, compassionate eyes, and she read it 
 aloud : 
 
 * " Dear Sir, 
 
 ' " We are obliged for the kind offer of your MS., 
 to which our most careful consideration has been given.'" ' 
 
 (' Been better if they'd considered it a little less,' 
 remarked Walford.) 
 
 < « We regret to say, however, that, in view of our 
 reader's report, we are reluctantly forced to decide that 
 the construction of the story precludes any hope of its 
 succeeding. The faults seem inherent to the story, and 
 irremediable, and we are therefore returning the MS. to 
 you to-day, with our compliments and thanks." '
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTLNES 153 
 
 * Ha, ha I' said Kent wildly ; ' they return it with 
 their compliments !' 
 
 ' I don't see anything to laugh at,' said his mother- 
 in-law with temper ; ' I call it dreadful ! Anything but 
 funny, Fm sure/ 
 
 ' Do you think so ?' he said. ' / call it very fuAiy. 
 There's a touch of humour about their " compliments ^ 
 that would be hard to beat.' 
 
 ' Ah,' said Walford disagreeably, ' your mother-in- 
 law's sense of humoui' isn't so keen and "literary" as 
 yom's. She only sees that your year's work isn't worth 
 a tinker's curse !' 
 
 ' Papa !' murmured Cynthia, wincing. 
 
 Kent's mouth closed nciously. 
 
 'Against your judgment on such a matter, sir,' he 
 said, ' of coui^e there can be no appeal.** 
 
 ' It ain't my judgment,' answered Walford ; ' it's your 
 own publishers'. It's no good putting on the sarcastic, 
 my boy. Here ' — he caught up the letter as he spoke, 
 and slapped it — * here you've got the opinion of a 
 practical man, and he tells you the thing's valueless. 
 There's no getting away from facts.'
 
 154 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 * And / say the thing's strong, sound work,'' exclaimed 
 Kent, * and the reader*'s an ass ! Oh, whafs the use of 
 arguing with you ! You see it rejected, and so to you 
 ifs i*ubbish ; and when you see it paid for, to you it will 
 be very good. I want some whisky — has " Aunt Emily '"* 
 drunk it all ?' He helped himself liberally, and invited 
 his father-in-law to follow his example, Walford shook 
 his head with a grunt. ' You won'*t have a drink ? I 
 will ; I want to return thanks for Messrs. Cousins'* com- 
 pliments. It's very flattering to receive compliments 
 from one''s publishers. Fm afraid you none of }'ou 
 appreciate it as much as you ought. We are having a 
 very jolly evening, aren't we, with hysterics and re- 
 jections ? And whisky''s good for both. Well, sir, 
 what have you got to say next ?"* 
 
 * I think we'll say " good-night," said Mrs. Walford 
 coldly ; * I ^vill be round in the morning, C}Tithia. 
 Come, Sam, ifs past ten.** 
 
 She rose, and put on her cape, Kent assisting her. 
 The stock-jobber took leave of him with a scowl ; and 
 when the last adieu had been exchanged, Cynthia and 
 the unfortunate author stood on the hearth vis-a-vis.
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 155 
 
 The girl was relieved that her parents were gone. The 
 atmosphere had been electric, and made her nervous of 
 what might happen next. She had been looking forward, 
 besides, to consoling him when the door closed — to his 
 lying in her arms under her kisses, while she smoothed 
 away his mortification. She could enter into his mood 
 to-night better than she had entered into any of them 
 yet, and she ached with pity for him. To turn to his 
 wife on any matters connected with his work, however, 
 never entered his head any more, so that when she 
 murmured deprecatingly, ' Papa didn't mean an}i;hing 
 by what he said, darling, I know ; you mustn't be vexed 
 with him,' all he did was to reply, ' Oh, he hasn't made 
 an enemy for life, my dear ! If you are going up to 
 your room now, I think Fll take a stroll."* 
 
 She said, 'Do, and — and cheer up;' but her heart 
 sank miserably. He dropped a kiss on her cheek with 
 a response as feeble as her o^mi, and went out. A woman 
 may have little comprehension of her husband's work, 
 and yet feel the tenderest sympathies for the disappoint- 
 ments that it brings him, but of this platitude the 
 novelist had shown himself ignorant.
 
 156 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 Cynthia did not go up to her room at once. She sat 
 down beside the dying fire and ruminated. She asked 
 herself — in the hour in which she had come mentally 
 nearest to him — if, after all, Humphrey and she were 
 united so closely as she had supposed.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 She loved him. ^Vhen they married, perhaps neither 
 had literally loved the other, but the girl had aroused 
 much stronger feelings in the man than the man had 
 wakened in the girl; to-day the position was reversed, 
 and this perception that he did not find her so com- 
 panionable as she had dreamed was the commencement 
 of a struggle to render herself a companion to him. 
 
 K she had been a woman of keener intuitions, she 
 must have perceived it long ago, but her intuitions were 
 not keen. She was not so dull as he thought her, nor 
 was she so dull as when she became his wife, but a 
 woman of the most rapid intelligence she would never 
 be. Her heart was greater than her mind — much 
 greater ; her heart entitled her to a devotion she was 
 far from receiving. To her mind marriage had made
 
 158 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 a trifling difference ; her sensibilities it had developed 
 enormously. Her husband overlooked the latter, and 
 chafed at the former. Fortunately for her peace, her 
 tardy perception of their relations did not embrace quite 
 so much as that. 
 
 She stayed in Bournemouth a fortnight, and when 
 she came home her efforts to acquire the quickness that 
 she lacked, to talk in the same strain as Kent, to utter 
 the kind of extravagance which seemed to be his idea 
 of wit, were laboured and pathetic. Especially as he 
 did not notice them. She read the books he admired, 
 and was bored by them more frequently than she was 
 moved. She attempted, in fact, to mould herself upon 
 him, and she attempted it with such scanty encom*age- 
 ment, and with so little apparent result, that, if her 
 imitation had not become instinctive by degrees, she 
 would have been destined to formally renoimce it in 
 despair. 
 
 He was not at this time the most agreeable of 
 models; he was too humiliated and anxious. Though 
 Mr. and Mrs. Walford were superficially affable again, 
 he felt a difference that he could not define in their
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 159 
 
 manner, and was always uncomfortable in their pre- 
 sence. He had called the book 'The Eye of the 
 Beholder," and submitted it to Messrs. Percival and 
 King, but February waned without any communication 
 arriving from the firm, and once more his wife's parents 
 asked him almost every day if he had ' any news." His 
 only prop was Turquand, whom he often went to town 
 to see now. Turquand had been genuinely dismayed 
 by Messrs. Cousins" refusal, and it was by his advice 
 that the author had selected Percival and King to try 
 next. Kent awaited their verdict feverishly. Not only 
 was his humiliation bad to bear, but his pecuniary posi- 
 tion was beginning to be serious, and the Walfords' 
 knowledge of the fact aggravated the unpleasantness 
 of it. 
 
 Messrs. Percival sent the manuscript back at the end of 
 April. They did not offer any criticism upon the work, as 
 the others had done ; they regretted merely that in the 
 present state of the book market they could not under- 
 take the publication of ' The Eye of the Beholder." 
 
 Then the novelist packed it up again, and despatched 
 it to Fendall and Green. Messrs. Fendall and Green
 
 160 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 were longer in replying, and the fact of the second 
 rejection could not be withheld from the Walfords. 
 After they had heard of it, the change in their manner 
 towards him was more marked. They obviously re- 
 garded him as a poor pretender in Literature, and her 
 mother admitted as much to Cynthia once. 
 
 * Well, mamma," said Cynthia valiantly, ' I don't see 
 how you can speak like that. It is terribly unfor- 
 tunate, and he is very worried, but you know what 
 Humphrey's reviews have been — nothing can take away 
 the success he has had.^ 
 
 ' Oh, " reviews '' !' said Mrs. Walford, with impa- 
 tience. ' He musn't talk to us about " reviews '' ! Of 
 course all those were " worked '' for him by Cousins. 
 We are behind the scenes, you know ; we are aware 
 what such things are worth.' 
 
 This conviction of hers, that his publishers had paid 
 a few pounds for various columns in praise of him in 
 the leading London papers, was not to be shaken. 
 Cynthia did not repeat it to him, and Kent did not 
 divine it, but Miss Wix — who had consented to remain 
 at The Hawthorns — appeared quite a lovable person
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 161 
 
 to him now in comparison with his wife's mother. Of 
 intention Louisa did not snub him, the stock-jobber 
 was not rude to him dehberately, but both felt that 
 their girl had done badly indeed for herself, and 
 their very tones in addressing him were new and re- 
 sentful. 
 
 In secret they were passionately mortified on another 
 score. Their prodigy, the coming bass, had once more 
 failed to secure a debut, and at last there was no help 
 for it but to admit that the thought of a musical career 
 for him must be abandoned. The circumstances sur- 
 rounding this final failure were veiled in mystery, even 
 from Cynthia, but the fact was sufficiently damning in 
 itself. The wily Pincocca was paid fees no longer, and 
 Caesar took a trip to Berlin with a company-promoter 
 his father knew, and who did not speak German, while 
 his mother invented an explanation. 
 
 Yes, it was a trying time for the Walfords, their 
 swans turning out to be ganders both together, and 
 that one of them had been acquired, not hatched, was 
 more than they could forgive themselves or him. There 
 were occasions, too, when Kent was more than slighted 
 
 VOL. I. 11
 
 162 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 now, when there was no disguise made at all. One day 
 in July Walford said to him : 
 
 ' I tell you what it is, Humphrey : this can't go on. 
 You'll have to give your profession up and look for a 
 berth, my boy. How's your account now ?"" 
 
 ' Pretty low,' confessed his son-in-law, feeling like a 
 lad being rebuked for a misdemeanour. 
 
 Walford looked at him indignantly. 
 
 * Ha !' he said. ' It's a nice position, 'pon my word [ 
 And no news, I suppose — nothing fresh .^' 
 
 ' Nothing, sir.' 
 
 ' You'll have to chuck it all. You'll have to chuck 
 this folly of yours, and put your shoulder to the wheeU 
 and Avork.' 
 
 * I thought I did work,' said Kent doggedly. ' Da 
 you think Literature is a game .?' 
 
 ' I think it is an infernal rotten game — ^yes !' 
 ' Ah, well, there,' said Kent, ' many literary men 
 have agreed with you.' 
 
 ' You'll have to put your mind to something serious. 
 If you only earn thirty bob a week, it's more than your 
 novels bring you in. What your wife and child will do.
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 163 
 
 God knows — have to come to us, I suppose. A fine 
 thing for a girl married eighteen months !"* 
 
 *She hasn't arrived at it yet,' answered Kent, very 
 white, ' and I don't fancy she will. Many thanks for 
 the invitation.' 
 
 Walford stopped short — they had met in the High 
 Road — and cocked his head at him, his legs apart. 
 *l * Will you take a berth in the City for a couple 
 of quid, if I can get you one ?' he demanded 
 sharply. 
 
 ' No,' said Kent, ' I'll be damned if I will ! I'll stick 
 to my pen, whatever happens, and I'll stick to my wife 
 and child, too !' 
 
 The other did not pursue the conversation, but on 
 the next occasion that Humphrey saw Louisa she told 
 him that his father-in-law was very incensed against 
 him for his ingratitude. 
 
 * It is sometimes advisable for a man to change his 
 business,' she said. ' A man goes into one business, 
 and if it doesn't pay he tries another. Yoin: father-in- 
 law is much older than you, and — er — naturally more 
 experienced. I think you ought to listen to his
 
 16i A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 opinion with more respect. Especially under the 
 circumstances.' 
 
 ' Oh ?' he replied. ' Have you said that to Cynthia ?' 
 
 ' No ; it is not necessary to say it to anybody but 
 you. And it might make her unhappy. She is troubled 
 enough without."* 
 
 She had, as a matter of fact, said it to her with much 
 eloquence the afternoon before. 
 
 ' And another thing,' she continued : ' I am bound to 
 say I don't see any grounds for your believing — er — er 
 — that your profession has any prizes in store for you, 
 even if you could afford to remain in it. You mustn't 
 mind my speaking plainly, Humphrey. You are a 
 young man, and — er — ^you have no one to advise you, 
 and you may thank me for it one day.' 
 
 * Let me thank you now,' he murmured, fighting to 
 conceal his rage. 
 
 ' If you can,' she said, ' if you feel it, I am very glad. 
 You see what you have done : you wrote a book, which 
 you got very little for — some nice reviews ' — she 
 smiled meaningly — ' which we needn't talk about. And 
 then you spend a year on another, which nobody wants.
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 165 
 
 To succeed as a novelist, one must have a very strong 
 gift ; there is no doubt about it. A novelist must be 
 very brilliant to do any good to-day — very brilliant ! 
 He wants — er — to know the world — to know the 
 world, and — er — oh, he must be ver>' polished — very 
 smart I' 
 
 ' I see,' he said shakily, as she paused. ' You don't 
 think IVe the necessary quahfications ?^ 
 
 * You have aptitude,** she said ; ' you have a certain 
 
 aptitude, of course, but to make it your profession 
 
 So many young men, who have been educated, could 
 -write a novel. You happen to have done it ; others 
 haven't the time. They open a business, or go on the 
 Stock Exchange, or perhaps they haven't the patience. 
 Fm afraid your publishers did you a mistaken kindness 
 by those unfortunate reviews.' 
 
 * How do you mean ?' he asked. * Yes, the reviewers 
 didn't agree ^vith you, did they ?"" 
 
 She smiled again, and spread her hands abroad 
 expressively. 
 
 ' Oh, they were very pretty, very nice to have ; but— 
 er — newspaper notices do not take us in. Naturally,
 
 166 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 those were paid for. Cousins and Co. arranged with 
 the papers for all that."* 
 
 *With ' 
 
 He looked at her open-mouthed, as the names of 
 some of the journals in which he had been eulogized 
 recurred to him. 
 
 ' With them all,' she said. ' Oh yes ! You must 
 remember we are quite behind the scenes.' 
 
 ' Pincocca,' he said musingly. ' Yes, you knew 
 Pincocca ! But he was a singing-master, and he doesn't 
 come here now.' 
 
 ' Oh, Pincocca was one of many — one of very many.' 
 She giggled nervously. ' How very laughable that you 
 should suppose I meant Pincocca ! You mustn't forget 
 that Caesar knows everybody. I'm almost glad he isn't 
 going in for the stage on that account. He brought such 
 crowds to the house at one time that really we lived in a 
 whirl. I believe — between oui'selves — that this man he 
 has gone to Berlin with is at the bottom of his throwing 
 up his career. A financier. A Mr. McCullough. One 
 of the greatest powers in the City. And — er — Caesar 
 was always wonderfully shrewd in these things. Don't
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 167 
 
 say anything, but I believe McCul lough wants to keep 
 him; 
 
 ' I won't say a word," he said. 
 
 ' McCullough controls millions,'' she gasped ; ' and 
 your father-in-law thinks, from certain i-umours he has 
 heard, that he's pei-suaded Caesar to join him in some 
 negotiations he has with the German Government. 
 Of course we mustn't breathe a whisper — hush ! A\Tiat 
 were we saying ? Oh yes, I'm afraid those unfortunate 
 reviews have done you more harm than good. Nothing 
 gi-eat in the City can be got for you, because you 
 haven't the commercial experience, but a clerkship 
 would be better than doing nothing. You must 
 really think about it, Humphrey, if you can't do any- 
 thing for yourself. As your father-in-law says, you 
 are sitting down ^nth youi' hands in youi* pockets, 
 eating up youi' last few pounds.' It occun'ed to her 
 that a clerkship and the ease with which her son 
 was obtaining a partnership in millions formed a con- 
 trast. 'Of course,' she added, 'Caesar always did 
 have a head for finance. And — er — he's a way with 
 him. He has aplomb and address that make hiiu
 
 168 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 immensely valuable for negotiations with a Govern- 
 ment. It's different in his case/ 
 
 Kent left her, and cursed aloud. He went the same 
 evening to Turquand's, partly as a relief to his feelings, 
 and partly to ask his friend's opinion of the feasibility of 
 his procuring any journalistic work. 
 
 ' For Heaven's sake, talk !' he exclaimed, as he went 
 in and flung himself down in the rickety chair that 
 used to be his own. ' Say anything you like, but talk. 
 I've just had an hour and a half of my mother-in-law 
 neat ! Take the taste out of my mouth. Turk, I wish 
 I were dead ! "VVTiat the devil is to be the end of it ? 
 The Walfords say " a clerkship " ! Oh, my God, you 
 should hear the AValfords ! I've " a little aptitude," but 
 I mustn't be conceited. I mustn't seriously call myself a 
 novelist. I've frivolled away a year on " The Eye of the 
 Beholder," and Cousins squared the reviewers for me on 
 the Spectator and the Saturday/ and the rest ! Look 
 here, I must get something to do. Don't you know 
 of anything ? can't you introduce me to an editor who 
 wants a genius ? isn't there anything stirring at all ? 
 /'m buried ; I live in a red-brick tomb in Streatham ;
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 169 
 
 I hear nothing, and see nobody, except my blasted 
 parents-in-law. But you re in the thick of it ; you 
 sniff the mud of Fleet Street every day ; youVe the 
 salaried sub of a paper that's going to put a cover 
 on itself, and " throw it in " at the penny ; you "^ 
 
 ' " 'Ave flung my tharsands gily ter the benefit of tride, 
 And gin'rally (they tells me) done the grand," ' 
 
 said Turquand. 
 
 'Yes; I know all about that; but surely you can 
 advise me of a chance ? I don't say an opening, but a 
 chance of an opening. ^lan alive, the outlook's as dark 
 as the de\il ! I shall be stony directly. You must V 
 
 ' Fendalls have still not written, eh ?"* 
 
 * No ; Fendalls' regrets haven't come yet. How 
 about short stories ?' 
 
 ' You didn't find 'em particularly lucrative, did you ?"* 
 
 * A guinea each ; one in six months. No ; but I 
 want to be invited to contribute : " Can you let us 
 have an}i:hing this month, Mr. Kent ?" ' 
 
 * My dear chap ! should I have stuck to TTie Outpost 
 all these years if I had such adnce to give away ? I
 
 170 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 did' — ^he coughed, and spat out an invisible shred of 
 tobacco — * I did stick to it/ 
 
 ' You weren't going to say that. You were going to 
 say, " I did advise you once, but you would marry." 
 Well, I don't complain that I married. The only fault 
 I have to find with my wife is that she's the Walfords' 
 daughter. She's not literary, but she's a very good 
 girl. Don't blink facts, Turk ; my money would have 
 lasted longer if I hadn't married, but I shouldn't have 
 got my novel taken because I was single. The point of 
 this situation is that, after being lauded to the skies by 
 every paper of importance in England, I can't place the 
 book I write next at any price at all, nor find a way to 
 earn bread and cheese by my pen ! If a musician had 
 got such criticisms on a composition, he would be a 
 made man. If an artist had had them on a picture, 
 the ball would be at his feet. If an actor had got 
 them on a performance, he would be offered engage- 
 ments at a hundred a week. In Literature alone such 
 an anomalous and damnable condition of affairs as mine 
 is possible. You can't deny it.' 
 
 ' I don't,' said Turquand.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Nor did the conference, which was protracted until a 
 late hour, provide an outlet to the dilemma ; it was 
 agreeable, but it did not lead anywhere. If he should 
 hear of anything, he would certainly let the other 
 know ; that was the most the sub-editor could say. 
 Authors are not offered salaries to WTite their novels, 
 and Kent was not a journalist by temperament, nor 
 possessed of any journalistic experience. As to tales or 
 articles for The Outpost, that paper did not publish 
 feuilletons, and their rate for other matter was seven 
 and sixpence a column. However, some attempt had 
 to be made, and Kent went to towTi every day, and 
 Cynthia saw less of him than when he had been vvriting 
 *The Eye of the Beholder.' He hunted up his few 
 acquaintances, and haunted the literary club that he
 
 172 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 had joined in the flush of his success. He applied for 
 various posts that he saw were vacant by the Daily 
 News, and inserted a skilfully-framed advertisement in 
 the Athenceum. No answer ever arrived, and the trades- 
 men's bills, and the poor rates, and the gas notices, and 
 the very competent nurse's wages, continued to fall due 
 in the meanwhile. When the competent nurse's were 
 not due, the incipient lunatic's were. Dr. Roberts' 
 account came in, and the sight of his pass-book now 
 literally terrified the young man. 
 
 They had not been married quite two years yet, and 
 he asked himself if they had been extravagant, in view 
 of this evidence of the rapidity with which money had 
 melted; but, excepting the style in which they had 
 furnished, he could not perceive any cause for such self- 
 reproach. They had lived comfortably, of course, but 
 if the novel had been placed when it was finished, they 
 could have continued to live just as comfortably while 
 he wrote the next. He feared they would have to take 
 a bill of sale on the too expensive furniture, and that 
 way lay destitution. Cynthia's composure under the 
 circumstances surprised him. He told her so.
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 173 
 
 ' It will all come right,"' she said. * You are sure 
 to get something soon, and perhaps Fendall and 
 Green will accept "The Eye of the Beholder'' — ful- 
 soraely."' 
 
 This was an improvement, for a few months since 
 she would have been unable to recollect the firm's name, 
 and have referred to them vaguely as ' the publishers/ 
 He felt the sense of intimacy deepen as ' Fendall and 
 Green ' dropped glibly from her lips, and the ' fulsomely ' 
 made him feel quite warm towards her. 
 
 * Have you told your people how low we are r' he 
 asked. 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 * Why should I ? That is our affair.' 
 
 ' So it is,' he assented. ' Poor little girl ! it's awful 
 rough on you, though. I wonder you aren't playing 
 with straws. You didn't know what economy meant 
 when we married.' 
 
 Praise from him was nectar and ambrosia to her. 
 She wanted to embrace him, but felt that if she 
 embraced the opportunity to give a happy definition 
 of economy it would be appreciated better. She
 
 174 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 perched herself on the arm of his chair, and struggled 
 to evolve an epigram. As she could not think of one, 
 she said : 
 
 ' What nonsense l" 
 
 ' I wish you had read the book, and liked it,' said 
 Kent, speaking spontaneously. 
 
 ' Say you wish Fd read it ?"* replied his wife. 
 
 * Oh, you'd like it, because it was mine. But I mean 
 I wish ' 
 
 'What.?' 
 
 ' I don't know.' 
 
 She twisted a piece of his hair round her finger. 
 
 ' My taste is much maturer than it was,' she averred, 
 with satisfaction. ' Somehow, I can't stand the sort of 
 things that used to please me ; I don't know how I was 
 able to read them. They bore me now.' 
 
 He smiled. As she had often done to him before, 
 she seemed a child masquerading in a woman's robes. 
 
 ' You're getting quite a critic !' 
 
 'Well,' she said happily, 'you'll laugh, but I got 
 "A Peacock's Tail" from the library, and when the 
 review in the Chronicle came out, the reviewer said
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHH^ISTINES 175 
 
 just what I'd felt about it. He did. Fm not such 
 a silly as you think, you see." 
 
 'My dear!** he cried, 'I never thought you were a 
 "silly.'""' 
 
 'Not very wise, though. Oh, I know what I lack, 
 HuDiphi-ey ; but I am better than I was — I am really ! 
 Remember, I never heard Literature talked about until 
 I met you ; it was all new to me when we manied, 
 and — if you've noticed it — you aren't very, very 
 interested in anything else. The longer we live 
 together, the more — the nicer I shall be.' 
 
 He answered lightly : 
 
 ' You are nice enough now.' 
 
 But he was touched. 
 
 After a long pause, and as if uttering the conclusion 
 of a train of thought aloud, she murmured : 
 
 ' Baby's got your shaped head.' 
 
 'I hope to God it'll be worth more to him than 
 mine to me !' he exclaimed. 
 
 She was silent again. 
 
 ' A^Tiat are you so serious for, all of a sudden ?' he 
 said, looking round.
 
 176 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 Cynthia bent over him quickly with a caress, and 
 sprang up. 
 
 * It was you who wanted the fs crossed for once/ she 
 said tremulously. 'There, now I must go and knock 
 at the nursery door, and ask if Fm allowed to go in." 
 
 The man of acute perceptions wondered what she 
 meant, and in what way he had shown himself dull 
 at comprehending so transparent a girl. 
 
 It was in October, when less than twenty pounds 
 remained to them, that something at last turned up. 
 Turquand had learnt that a sub-editor was required 
 •on The World and his Wife, a weekly journal recently 
 started for the benefit of the English and Americans 
 in Paris, "the editor was familiarly kno^vn as ' Billy ' 
 Beaufort, and the proprietor was a sporting Baronet 
 who had reduced his income from fourteen thousand 
 per annum to eight by financing, and providing with 
 the diamonds, which were the brightest feature of her 
 performances, a lady who fancied she was an actress. 
 Beaufort had been the one dramatic critic who did 
 not say she was painful, and it was Beaufort who had 
 latterly assured the Baronet that The World and his
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 177 
 
 Wife would realize a fortune. He had gone about 
 London assuring people that various entei'prises would 
 realize a fortune for thirteen years — that was his 
 business — but the Baronet was the first person who 
 believed him. Then Billy Beaufort took his watch, 
 and his scarf-pin, and his sleeve - links away from 
 Attenborough's — when in funds he could always pawn 
 himself for a considerable amount — and turned up at 
 the club, whose secretary had been writing him unkind 
 letters on the subject of his subscription, resplendent 
 again. The only alloy to his complacence, though it 
 did not diminish it to any appreciable degree, was that 
 he was scarcely more qualified to edit a paper than 
 was a landsman to na\igate a ship. He described 
 himself as a journalist, and the description was probably 
 as accurate as any other he could have furnished of 
 a definite order; but he was a journalist whose attain- 
 ments were limited to puffing a prospectus and ser\dng 
 up a rechauffe from Truth. He was never attached 
 to a paper for longer than two or three months, but 
 while he was so he was usually attached to a woman 
 too. He chove in hansoms every day of the year ; 
 VOL. I, 12
 
 178 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 always appeared to have bought his hat half an hour 
 ago ; affected a big picotee as a buttonhole, and lived 
 heaven alone knew how. While he was ridiculed in 
 Fleet Street as a penman, he was treated with deference 
 there on account of his reputed smartness in the Citv, 
 and — while the City laughed at his business preten- 
 sions — there he was respected for his supposed abilities 
 in Fleet Street. So he beamed out of the hansoms 
 perkily, and drove from one atmosphere of esteem 
 to another, waving a gloved hand to clever men who 
 envied him en route. 
 
 In days gone by he had tasted a spell of actual 
 prosperity. By what coup he had made the money, 
 and how he had lost it, are details, but he had now 
 developed the fatal symptom of loving to dwell upon 
 that period when he had been so lucky, and so courted^ 
 and so rich. There is hope for the man who boasts 
 of the thousands he means to make in the future ; 
 there is hope for the bore who proses ever so 
 mendaciously about his successes in the present. But 
 the man whose passion it is to brag about his past 
 is doomed ; he is a man who will succeed no more.
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 179 
 
 If the sporting Baronet had observed this fact, The 
 World and his Wife would never have been started, 
 and Billv Beaufort would not have been lookincr for 
 
 o 
 
 a sub-editor to do the work of it. 
 
 Kent obtained the post. The 'sub' with whom 
 Beaufort had parted was a thoroughly experienced 
 journalist, who had put his chief in the way of things, 
 but had subsequently called him an ass, and what 
 ' Billy "* sought now was a zealous young man who 
 would have no excuse for gi^^ng himself airs. Beaufort 
 believed in Turquand's opinion, and had always thought 
 him a fool for being so shabby, knowing him to have 
 ten times the brain-power he possessed himself, and 
 Turquand had blown Humphrey's trumpet sturdily. 
 He did more than merely recommend him ; he declared 
 — with a recollection of the nurse and baby — that Kent 
 was the man to get, but he was afraid it would not be 
 worth his while to accept less than seven pounds a week. 
 When the matter was settled, Humphrey sought his 
 friend again, and, wringing his hand, exclaimed : 
 
 * YouVe a pal ; but — but, I say, what are a sub- 
 editor's duties .?'
 
 180 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 Exhilaration and misgiving were mixed in equal 
 parts in his breast. 
 
 Turquand laughed, as nearly as he could be said 
 to ever approach a laugh. 
 
 'The sub on The World and his Wife will have 
 to cut "pars'"* out of the English society journals 
 and the Paris " dailies," and " put 'em all in different 
 language — the more indifferent, the better." He must 
 handle the scissors without fatigue, and ari'ange with 
 someone on this side to supply a column of London 
 theatrical news every week — out of the previous Satur- 
 day's Telegraph. Say with m£. It's worth a guinea, 
 and I may as well have it as anybody else.' 
 
 ' You are appointed our London dramatic critic,' said 
 Kent. ' Won't you have thirty bob ?' 
 
 ' A guinea's the market price ; and I can have some 
 cards printed, and go to the theatres for nothing, you 
 see, when I feel like it. They don't take any stock in 
 T^ Outpost. He must attend the representations 
 generales himself, and make all the acquaintances he 
 can, " against the time " when the rag " busts." ' 
 
 ' " Busts !" ' echoed Kent. ' Is it going to bust V
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 181 
 
 ' Oh, it won't live, my boy. If it had been a 
 permanent job, I shouldn''t have handed it over to you. 
 I'm not a philanthropist. But it will give you a 
 chance to turn round, and an enlightened publisher may 
 discern the merits of " The Eye of the Beholder '' in the 
 meanwhile. You'd better go on looking for something 
 while you are on the thing ; perhaps you'll be able to 
 get the Paris Correspondence for a paper, if you try.' 
 
 ' What more ? What besides the scissors — nothing ?' 
 
 ' There's the paste ; I don't imagine you'll need much 
 else.' 
 
 ' You're a trump !' repeated Kent gratefaUy. ' I feel 
 an awful fraud taking such a berth, Turk ; but in this 
 world one has to do what one ' 
 
 * Can't !' 
 
 ' Exactly ; and, by George ! it seems a better-paid 
 line than what one can, though I should have thought 
 it was more over- crowded.' 
 
 ' There is always room at the top, you know,' said 
 Turquand. * When you rise in what you can't do, the 
 emolument is dazzling !' 
 
 Beaufort was returning to Paris the same day, and he
 
 182 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 was anxious for Kent to join him there with all possible 
 speed. Kent's first intention was to go alone, and let 
 Cynthia follow him at her leisure ; but when he 
 reached home and cried, ' " Mary, you shall ride in 
 your carriage, and Charles shall go to Eton r ** she 
 would not hear of it. 
 
 * I can be ready by Wednesday or Thursday at the 
 latest," she exclaimed delightedly, when the explanation 
 was forthcoming. ' What did you mean by " Charles " 
 and " Mary "? Oh, Humphrey, didn't I tell you it 
 would all come all right! How lovely! and how 
 astonished mamma and papa will be !' 
 
 * Yes, I fancy it will surprise 'em a trifle,' he said. 
 ' We'll go round there this evening, shall we ? And we'll 
 put the salary in francs — it sounds more.' He hesitated. 
 * I say, do you think nurse will mind living in Paris ?' 
 
 Cynthia paled. 
 
 ' I must ask her ; I hadn't thought of that. Oh . . . 
 oh, I dare say I shall be able to persuade her. It's 
 rather a hurry for her, though, isn't it ? She does so 
 dislike being hurried.' 
 
 ' Tell her at once, then,' he suggested ; ' she'll have
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 183 
 
 all the more time to prepare in. Run up to her 
 now/ 
 
 ' Let — let us think,"* miu'mured Cynthia ; ' well con- 
 sider. . . . Ann must be sent away, and we shall have 
 to give her a month's wages instead of notice."* 
 
 ' She's no loss,' he observ ed. * I don't know what 
 your mother ever saw in her. She can't even cook a 
 steak, the wench !' 
 
 ' She fries them, dear.' 
 
 ' I know she does,' said Kent. ' A woman who'd ft-y 
 a steak would do a murder ! Well, we shall have to 
 give her a month's wages instead of notice — it's an 
 iniquitous law ! But what about nurse ?' 
 
 ' Perhaps,' said Cynthia nervously, ' if you were to 
 mention it to her, darling — if you don't mind ' 
 
 ' Of course I don't mind,' he answered, but A^athout 
 alacrity. 'AVhat an idea! Tell Ann to send her 
 down."* 
 
 She entered presently, an important young person in 
 a stiff white frock ; and he played with the newspaper, 
 trying to feel that he had grown quite accustomed to 
 seeing an important young person in his service.
 
 184 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 ' You wished to speak to me, madam, but baby will 
 be waking directly/ 
 
 ' I shan't keep you a moment,' said Kent. ' Er — er 
 — your mistress and I are going to Paris ; we shall be 
 there some time. I suppose it's all the same to you 
 where you live ? We want you to be ready by Thurs- 
 day, nurse.' 
 
 ' To Paris !' said nurse, with cold amazement, and a 
 pause that said even more. 
 
 Cynthia became immediately engrossed by a bowl of 
 flowers over which she had been bending, and Kent felt 
 that, after all, Paris was a long way off. 
 
 ' I suppose it's all the same to you where you are ?' 
 he said again, though he no longer supposed anything 
 of the sort. ' And there are three days for you to pack 
 in, you know — three nice full days.' 
 
 ' Three days, sir,' she echoed reproachfully, ' to go 
 abroad ! May I ask you if you would be staying in a 
 place like that all the winter, sir ?' 
 
 ' Yes, certainly through the winter — or probably so. 
 It might not be so long ; it depends.' 
 
 ' I could not hundertake to leave 'ome for good, sir,"*
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 185 
 
 said the nurse. ' I am engaged ! My friend lives in 
 ""Olloway, and ' 
 
 ' Oh, it wouldn't be for good,' declared Cpithia in- 
 gratiatingly ; ' we couldn't stay there for good our- 
 selves — oh no ! And, of coui'se, if you found we 
 stopped too long to suit you, nurse, why, you could 
 leave us when you liked, couldn't you ? Though 
 Mr. Kent and I would both be very sorry to lose you, 
 I'm sure.' 
 
 They looked at her pleadingly while she medi- 
 tated. 
 
 'What baby will do, Hi don't know, madam,' she 
 said, ' changing his cow, poor little dear !' 
 
 ' Will it hurt him ?' demanded the mother and father, 
 in a breath. 
 
 ' If you have the doctor's consent, madam, you may 
 chance it. It isn't a thing that Hi would ever 
 ad^^se.' 
 
 ' Well, well, look here,' said Kent ; ' we'll see Dr. 
 Roberts about it to-day, and if he says there's no risk, 
 that'll settle it. You will get ready to start Thursday 
 morning, nurse.'
 
 186 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 'I will hoideavour to do so, sir,'' she said with 
 dignity. 
 
 They felt that on the whole she had been gracious, 
 and Kent, having obtained Dr. Roberts' sanction to 
 change the cow, commissioned a house-agent to try to 
 let No. 64 furnished at four guineas a week.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 I\' case he should feel unduly elated, ' The Eye of the 
 Beholder' came back on Wednesday afternoon, but this 
 time he did not post it to another firm instanter. He 
 could not very well ask for it to be returned to Paris, 
 and he left it with Turquand when he bade him good- 
 bye. ' Send it where you like,"* he begged ; * perhaps 
 you might tiy Farqueharsen next. Yes, Fve rather a 
 fancy for Farqueharsen ; but let it make the round, old 
 chap, and drop me a line when there aren''t any more 
 publishers for it to go to."* 
 
 The nurse's ' endeavour ^ had been crowned by success, 
 and the Walfords, having congratulated him so warmly 
 that he almost began to think they were nice people 
 again, the departure was made on Thursday morning as 
 arranged.
 
 188 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 They travelled, of course, by the Nevvhaven route, 
 and reached the Gare St. Lazare after dark on a rainy 
 evening. The amount of luggage they possessed among 
 them made Kent stare, as he watched half a dozen 
 porters hoisting trunks, and a perambulator, and a 
 bassinet on to the bus, and it seemed as if they would 
 never get out of the station. At last they rattled away, 
 however, through the wet streets, the baby whimpering, 
 and the nurse flustered, and he and Cynthia very tired. 
 They drove to a little hotel near the Madeleine, where 
 they intended to stay until they found a suitable 
 pension, and where dinner and the warmth of ' grave "* 
 were very grateful. Nurse also picked up after the 
 waiter^s appearance with her tray and a half-bottle of 
 ' vin compris,' and, as their fatigue passed, exhilaration 
 was in the ascendant once more. Cynthia recovered so 
 much that, finding the rain had ceased and the moon 
 was shining, she wanted to go out and look at the 
 boulevards. So Humphrey and she took a stroll for an 
 hour, and said how strange it was to think they should 
 have come to live in Paris, and how funnily things 
 happened ; and they had a cura^oa each at a cafe, and
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 189 
 
 went back to their fusty red room on the third-floor, 
 with the inevitable gilt clock and the festooned bed- 
 stead, quite gaily. 
 
 The chambermaid brought in their chocolate at 
 eight o'clock next morning, and her brisk ' Bon jour, 
 m'sieur et madame !' sounded much more cheerful to 
 them both than Ann's knock at the door, vvith ' The 
 ''ot water, mum V to which they were accustomed. The 
 sun streamed in brilliantly as she parted the window- 
 curtains, and, after the chocolate and rolls were finished, 
 Kent proceeded to dress, and, leaving Cynthia in bed, 
 betook himself to the office of the paper in the Rue 
 du Quatre Septembre. 
 
 Beaufort had not come yet, and, pending his chiefs 
 arrival, he occupied himself by examining a copy. The 
 tone of the notes struck him as decidedly poor, and a 
 lengthy ' interview ' with one of the prominent French 
 actresses abounded in all the well-worn cliche's of the 
 amateur. The * luxurious ' apartment into which the 
 interviewer was ushered, the lady's * mock ' despair, 
 which gave place to ' graceful' resignation and * fragrant' 
 cigarettes, made him sick. Beaufort was very cordial
 
 190 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 when he entered, though, and it was reassuring to the 
 new sub to see how hght he made of everything. The 
 work was as easy as A, B, C. ' Turf Topics '' was con- 
 tributed by a fellow called Jordan, and, really, Mr. Kent 
 would find a few hours daily more than enough to pre- 
 pare an issue. They went into his private room, where 
 a bottle of vermouth and a pile of French and English 
 journals, marked and mutilated, were the most con- 
 spicuous features of the writing-table ; and Kent came 
 to the conclusion that his editor was an extremely 
 pleasant man, as the vermouth was sipped and they 
 chatted over two excellent cigars. 
 
 At first the duties did not prove quite so simple as 
 they had promised to one who had never had anything 
 to do with producing a paper before, and the printer 
 worried him a good deal. But Beaufort was highly 
 satisfied. The novice was swift to grasp details, and 
 took such an infinity of pains in seasoning and 
 amplifying the rechauffes, that really his stuff read 
 almost like original matter. As he began to feel his 
 feet, too, he put forth ideas, and, finding that the 
 other was quite ready to listen to them, gained con-
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTLNES 191 
 
 fidence, and was not \v-ithout a mistaken belief that 
 in so quickly mastering the mysteries of a weekly and 
 painfully exiguous little print, of which four -fifths 
 were eclectic, he had displayed ability of a brilliant 
 order. 
 
 Primarily the labour he devoted to the task was 
 ludicrously disproportionate to the result, but by degrees 
 he got through it with more rapidity. ^Vhen a month 
 had passed since the morning he sat down in the sub- 
 editorial chair of The World and his Wife, he discovered 
 that he was doing in an afternoon what it had formerly 
 taken him two days to accomplish, and marvelled how 
 he could have been so stupid. The work had devolved 
 upon him almost entirely by now, for Beaufort, having 
 shown him the way in which he should go, dropped 
 in late, and withdrew early, and did little but drink 
 vermouth, and say, ' Yes, certainly, capital !' while he 
 was there. Kent proposed the subject i^">r the week's 
 ' interview,^ wrote — or re - wrote — the causerie, and 
 secured the majority of the few advertisements that 
 they obtained. Also, when the subject of the semi- 
 biographical sketch was not a good-looking woman, it
 
 192 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 was he who interviewed her. When the lady was 
 attractive, 'Billy** Beaufort attended to that depart- 
 ment himself. 
 
 Cynthia had found a pension in the Madeleine quarter, 
 which had been highly recommended for a permanency, 
 and here they had removed. They had two fairly large 
 bedrooms, communicating au quatrieme, and paid a 
 hundred and fifty francs a week. It did not leave much 
 surplus out of the salary for incidental expenses, after 
 reckoning the nurse'*s wages ; but it was supposed to 
 be very cheap, and Madame Garin and her vivacious 
 daughter, who skipped a good deal for thirty years of 
 age, and was voluble in bad English, begged them on 
 no account to let any of the other boarders know they 
 were received at such terms, for that would certainly 
 be the commencement of Madame Garin and her 
 daughter's ruin. The establishment was well patronized, 
 and the meals, with which about twenty-five French 
 people down the long table appeared contented, would 
 have been pronounced execrable in a third-rate boarding- 
 house in Bloomsbury. The twenty-five people were 
 waited on by a leisurely and abstracted Italian, and the
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 193 
 
 intervals between the meagre courses were of such dura- 
 tion that Kent swore he had generally forgotten what 
 the soup had been called by the time the cold entree 
 reached him. 
 
 Yet they were not uncomfortable. Their room wa« 
 cosy in the lamplight when the winter set in, and 
 Etienne had made a fire, and the curtains of the 
 windows were drawn to hide the view of snowy roofs ; 
 and though the dinner often left them hungry, they 
 could go out before retiring, and have chocolate and 
 cakes. As a pressman, too, Kent got tickets for the 
 theatres and the concerts. It was livelier than Leaming- 
 ton Road, to say the least of it — more lively for him 
 than for Cynthia, perhaps; but an improvement for 
 her as well, since one or two of the women were com- 
 panionable, and did to take walks with, while he was 
 at the office, or to polish her French on in the chilly 
 salon. 
 
 One afternoon when he was sitting at his desk, and 
 Beaufort had gone, the clerk came in to him with a 
 card that bore the name of Mrs. Deane-Pitt. She was 
 staying in Paris, and the editor had accepted his sugges- 
 
 VOL. I. 13
 
 194 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 tion that it might be a good idea to interview a novelist 
 for a change. Kent had sent the proofs to her the day 
 before, but he had never seen her. He told the clerk 
 to show her in with some satisfaction, and wished he 
 had put his other jacket on; for the authoress of 
 ' Two and a Passion ' was a woman to meet. 
 
 He felt shabbier still when she entered ; she looked 
 to him like an animated fashion - plate reduced to 
 human height. From the hues of her hat to the swirl 
 of her skirt, it was evident that Mrs. Deane-Pitt made 
 money, and knew where to spend it. An osprey in the 
 hat was the only touch of vulgarity. Everybody would 
 not have termed her pretty; but her eyes and teeth 
 were good, and both flashed when she talked. Her age 
 might have been anything from thirty to thirty- five. 
 
 ' I wanted to see Mr. Beaufort,' she said, in a clear, 
 crisp voice ; ' but I hear he's out.' 
 
 * Yes ; he is out,' said Kent. * Is it anything / can 
 do?' 
 
 ' Well, I don't like the " interview." I dare say it 
 was my own fault ; but I object to suffering for my 
 own faults — one has to suffer for so many other people's
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHmiSTINES 195 
 
 in this world. It's all about " Two and a Passion."*' I 
 wrote " Two and a Passion ^ seven years ago — and I 
 didn't get a royalty on it, either ! A^Tiy not quote the 
 books I've done since, and say more about the one that's 
 just out? You say, "Mrs. Deane-Pitt confessed to 
 having recently published another novel," and then you 
 drop it as if it were a failure or a hot coal. And 
 " confessed " — why " confessed " ? That's the tone I 
 don't like in the thing. You \mte about me as if I 
 belonged to another profession, and dabbled in Litera- 
 ture.' 
 
 He felt that ' Billy ' Beaufort would not be soiTy to 
 have missed her. 
 
 * May I see the proofs again .?' he asked. 
 
 She gave them to him, and settled herself in her chair. 
 He looked at them pen in hand, and she looked at him. 
 
 ' It can easily be put right, can't it, Mr. ' 
 
 '«Mr. Kent." Easily— oh yes! Will you tell me 
 something about your new book ? I'm ashamed to say 
 I haven't read it yet.' 
 
 'Don't apologize. It's called "Thy Neighbour's 
 Husband."'
 
 196 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 'Does she bolt with him, or do you end it 
 virtuously ?"* 
 
 ' Virtuously, monsieur,** she said, smiling. ' You travel 
 fastr 
 
 ' And — please go on ! Are there cakes and ale, or 
 does she tend the sick and visit the poor P"* 
 
 ' \ ou appal me,** said Mrs. Deane-Pitt. ' Whatever 
 my faults, I am fin-de-siecle. Forgive me for saying 
 " fin-de-siecle " — a modern version"'s needed badly; I 
 end with a question-point."* 
 
 * Not questioning the lady''s "* 
 
 ' Oh, her happiiwss, of course !' 
 
 ' " This brilliant and analytical study, which is already 
 giving rise to considerable discussion,^ would be the 
 kind of strain, then, would it not ?** 
 
 * Entirely,' she said. ' I'm awfully sorry to give you 
 so much trouble.' 
 
 * The " trouble's " a pleasure. You don't want your 
 "favourite dog" mentioned, do you? Favourite dogs 
 are becoming banal. Er— ' 
 
 * Three,' she said. ' Yes ; a boy and two girls.' 
 
 ' Does the boy — "in a pictui'esque suit " — come
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 197 
 
 into the room, and lead up to " evident maternal 
 pride "r 
 
 ^He's a dear little fellow!' she answered. 'But do 
 you think " evident maternal pride "' would be quite in 
 keeping ? No ; I'd stick to me and the work. Besides, 
 domesticity is tedious to reeid about ; the dullest topic 
 in the world is other people's children.' 
 
 Kent laughed. 
 
 ' ril explain to Mr. Beaufort,' he declared ; ' you 
 shall have a revise sent on to-morrow. I'm sure you'll 
 find it all right when he understands the style of thing 
 you want.' 
 
 * Thank you,' she said dryly. ' I assure you I have no 
 misgivings, Mr. Kent. " Kent " ! I've never had any 
 correspondence with you, have I ? The name's familiar 
 to me, somehow.' 
 
 * An alias is " The Garden of England," ' he said. 
 ' No, you haven't written anything, have you .?' 
 'Two novels. One is published, and the post is 
 
 wearing out the other.' 
 
 ' I remember,' she cried, uttering the title trium- 
 phantly ; ' I read it. What grand reviews you had !
 
 198 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 Of course, I know now. I liked your book extremely, 
 Mr. Kent. Humphrey Kent, isn't it ?' 
 
 ' Thank you," he said. ' Yes, Humphrey Kent.' 
 
 ' And you go in for journalism, too, eh ?' 
 
 ' Oh, this is a new departure. I was never in a paper 
 office until lately."* 
 
 ' Really !' she exclaimed. ' You aren't giving fiction 
 up ?' 
 
 ' Fm pot-boiling, Mrs. Deane-Pitt. Do you think it 
 very inartistic of me T 
 
 ' Don't !' she said. ' Inartistic ! I hate that cant* 
 There are papers that are always calling vie inartistic. 
 One's got to live. Oh, I admire the people who can 
 starve in West Kensington, and take three years to 
 write a novel, but their altitude is beyond me. I write 
 to sell, moi — though you needn't put that in the " inter- 
 view." But I shouldn't have thought you'd have any 
 trouble in placing your books — ^you oughtn't to to-day. 
 I expect you've been too " literary " ; you'll grow out 
 of it.' 
 
 * You don't believe in ' 
 
 ' I'm a practical woman. The public read to be
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 199 
 
 amused, and the publishei-s want what the public will 
 read, good, bad, or indifferent ; thafs my \iew. You 
 mustn't make me say these things, though,' she broke 
 off, laughing, and getting up ; ' it's most indiscreet — to 
 a pressman. ... I shall send you a copy of "Thy 
 Neighbour's Husband'' — to a colleague. Good-after- 
 noon, Mr. Kent. I'll leave you to go on with your 
 work now. Pray don't look so relieved.' 
 
 * I should value the copy extremely,' he said. ' It 
 was anything but relief — I was struggling to conceal 
 despair.' 
 
 She put out her hand, and a faint perfume clung to 
 his own after the door had closed. Though her stand- 
 point was not his own, her personahty had impressed 
 him, and, as he watched her from the >nndow re- 
 entering her cab, Kent was sorry she had not remained 
 longer. 
 
 He trusted she would not forget her promise to send 
 him her novel, and when it reached him, a few days 
 later, he opened it with considerable eagerness. The 
 perusal disappointed him somewhat, and the story 
 seemed to him unworthy of the pen that had written
 
 200 A DAUGHTER OF THE PHILISTINES 
 
 * Two and a Passion." But he replied, as he was bound 
 to do, with a letter of grateful appreciation, and en- 
 deavoured, moreover, to persuade himself that he liked 
 it better than he did. The lady, on her side, \NTote a 
 cordial little note, thanking him for the amended proof- 
 sheets — * I had no idea I was so clever or so charming.'' 
 She said she should be pleased to see him if he could 
 ever spare the time to look in ; she could give him a cu}> 
 of * real English tea,** and she was very truly his — Eva 
 Deane-Pitt. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 BILLING AND SONS, PRINTERS, GUILDFORD.
 
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 Dorothy Forster. 
 Uncle Jack. 
 Tr.e Wor'.d Went Very 
 
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 hfrr Faulus. 
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 Blartvrdom of Madeline 
 Love Me for Ever. 
 A^iaan Water. 
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 ROB. BUCHANAN & HY. .MURRAY. 
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 BasU. 
 
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 Queen of Hearts. 
 
 My Miscellanies. 
 
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 Man and Wife. 
 
 Poor Miss Finch. 
 
 Miss or Mrs. ? 
 
 The New Magdalen. 
 
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 Paul Foster 6 Dauehter. 
 
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 Geoffory Hamilton 
 
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 Two Girls on a Barge. 
 
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 His Vanished Star. 
 
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 Romances of the Old Seraglio. 
 
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 The Real Lady Hi'da. 
 Married or tingle. 
 Two Masters 
 In theKlngdom of Kerry 
 
 Diana Barring ton. 
 Proper Pride. 
 A Family Likeness. 
 Prettv Miss Neville. 
 A B.rd of Passage. 
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 Hearts of Gold. 
 
 By ALPHONSE DAUDET. 
 The Evan:;eli3t : or. Port Sahat ou. 
 
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 Mr. Sadler s Daughters. 
 
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 The Fountain of Youth. 
 
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 ^ ^j^j^ DONOVAN. _ , 
 
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 Vrtfaced"by Sir BARTLE FRERB. 
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 Loving a Dream. I 
 
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 The Lost Heiress. I The Jof sicker. 
 
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 Barkers Luck. 
 Devil's Ford. 
 
 of the 
 
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 Garth 1 Beatrix Randolph. 
 
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 IvandeBir^n^ ,. HENDERSON. 
 
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 The Common Ancestor. 
 
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 Lady Verner's Flight. I The Professor s Experi- 
 
 The Red-House Mystery ment. .„,„„„. 
 
 The Three Graces. I A Point of Conscience. 
 
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 1 Self-Condemned. 
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 Honour Of Thieves. ^^^^^^^^ 
 
 A Drawn Game. 
 
 • The Wearing of the Green. _^,,,rk 
 
 By EDMOND LEPELLETIER. 
 
 ^^'^^"^^gV^'^HARRY LINDSAY. 
 
 ^^°'^^°^r?lENRY W.LUCY. 
 Gideon Fleyce. 
 
 Sowing the Wind. 
 The Atonement ofLeam 
 
 Dundas. 
 The World Well Lo«t. 
 The One Too Many. 
 
 Maid of Athens. 
 
 The Comet of a Season. 
 
 The Dictator. 
 
 Red Diamonds. 
 
 The Kiddle Bing. 
 
 Patricia KembaU. 
 
 Under which Lord 7 
 
 ' My Love 1 ' 
 
 lone. 
 
 Paston Carew. 
 
 By JUSTIN McCarthy. 
 
 A Fair Saxon. Donna Quixote. 
 
 Linley Rochford. ^ - •- 
 
 Dear Lady Disdain. 
 
 Camiola. 
 
 Waterdale Neighbours. 
 
 My Enemy's Daughter. 
 
 ^"'SriusTlNti. MCCARTHY. 
 
 ^"°"bT GEORGE MACDONALD. 
 Heather and Snow. | Phantastes. 
 
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 A Soldier of Fortune. I The Voice of the 
 
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 Maid Marian and Kobin Hood. 
 
 BasUe the Jester. I Young Lochlnvar. 
 
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 Cynic Fortune. 
 The Way of the World. 
 BobMartin 8 Little Girl. 
 Time's Revenges. 
 A Wasted Crime. 
 In Direst Peril. 
 Mount Despair. 
 A Capful o Nails. 
 
 A Life's Atonemtut. 
 Joseph's Coat. 
 Coals of Fire. 
 Old Blazer's Hero. 
 Val Strange. 1 HeartB, 
 A Model Father. 
 By the Gate of the Sea 
 A Bit of Human Nature 
 First Person Singular „cr»ivfAM 
 
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 OneTravell^r^Re^u^rns.^ NISBET. 
 
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 SamtAnns. ^^ ^^^"^Be^'- 
 AWeirdGift. ^^ ^^^^^ 
 
 Held in Bondage 
 
 Strathmore. 
 
 Chandos. 
 
 Under Two Flags. 
 
 Idalia. . . 
 
 Cecil Castlemaine ■ 
 
 Gage. 
 Tricotrln. I Puck. 
 FoUe Farine. 
 A Dog of Flanders. 
 Pascarel. | Signa. 
 Princess Napraxme. 
 Ariadne 
 
 Two Little Wooden 
 
 Shoes. 
 In a Winter City. 
 Friendship. 
 Moths. I Rnflno. 
 Pipi.strello. 
 A Village Commune.' 
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 Frescoes. | Othmar. 
 In Maremma. 
 Byrlin. | Guilderoy, 
 Santa Barbara. 
 Two Offenders. 
 
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 Gentle and S^mple^^^gp^^^ 
 
 High Spirits. 
 Under One Roof. 
 Glow worm Tales. 
 The Talk of the Toun. 
 Holiday Tasks. 
 
 Lost Sir Massingberd. 
 Less Black than We're 
 
 Painted. 
 A Confidential Agent. 
 A Grape from a Thorn. 
 In Peril and Privation. 
 The Mystery of Mir- 
 By Proxy. [bridge, 
 
 i The Canon's Ward. 
 
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 Outlaw and Lawmaker. I Mis. Tregaskisa. 
 Christina Chard. 1 „.^„ 
 
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 The Foreigner*. 1 
 
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 The Burnt Million. 
 The Word and the Will 
 Sunnv Stories. 
 A Trying Patient.
 
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 The Piccadilly (^/fi) Kovvi.s— continued. 
 By RICHARD PRYCE. 
 
 Miss Maxwells Atfejtio.is. 
 
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 Pe£ Woffington ; ^ and The Double llarrlase. 
 
 Griffith Gaunt. 
 
 Foul Play. 
 
 Put Yourself In His 
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 A Terrible Temptation. 
 
 A Simpleton. 
 
 A Woman Hater. 
 
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 Eeadiana ; aad Bible 
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 Never Too Late to Mend 
 The Course of True 
 
 Love Never Did Run 
 
 Smooth ; nnd Single- 
 heart aodDoubleface. 
 Autobiography cf a 
 
 a Thief ; Jack of all 
 
 Trades: A Hero and 
 
 a Martyr ; and Th« 
 
 Wandering Heir. 
 Love Me Little, Love 
 
 Me Long. 
 
 By Mrs. J. H. RIDDELL. 
 Weird Stories. 
 
 By AMELIE RIVES. 
 Barbara Dermg. 
 
 By F. W. ROBINSON. 
 The Hands of Justice. | Woman in the Dark 
 
 By DORA RUSSELL. 
 A Country Sweetheart. ', The Drift of Fate. 
 
 By W. CLARK RUSSELL. 
 Eound the Galley Fire. My Shipmate Louise, 
 In the Middle Watch. " " " " 
 
 A Voyage to the Cape. 
 Bobk for the Hammock. 
 The Mystery of the 
 
 ' Ocean Star." 
 The Rrmance of Jenny 
 
 Karlowe. 
 An Ocean Traj^edr 
 
 Alone on W:de Wide Sea 
 The Phantf m Death. 
 Is He the ilan ? 
 The Good Ship 'Mo- 
 hock.' 
 The Convict Ship. 
 Heart of Oak. 
 The Tale of th» Ten. 
 By JOHN SAUNDERS. 
 Guy Waterman. I The Two Dreamers. 
 
 Bound to the WheeL | The Lion in t;-.o Path. 
 
 By KATHARINE SAUNDERS. 
 Margaret and Elizabeth I Heart Salvage. 
 Gideon s Rock. Sebastian. 
 
 The Ili-h Mills. I 
 
 By ADELINE SERGEANT. 
 Dr. EndlTOtt s Experiment. 
 
 By HAWLEY SMART. 
 Without Love or Licence. 
 
 Bv T. W. SPEIGHT. 
 
 A Secri^t of the Sea. I The Mast! r of Trcnsnce. 
 The Grey Hjuh. | 
 
 By ALAN ST. AUBYN. 
 A Fel'ow of Trii-ity. I In Fac- of the World. 
 The Junior Dean. ! Orchard Daiserd. 
 
 Mastrr of St. Benedict's. ] The Tremlelt Diamond!. 
 To his Own Master. ' 
 
 By JOHN STAFFORD. 
 Doris and I. 
 
 By R. A. STERNDALE. 
 
 The Afghan Knife. 
 
 By BERTHA THOMAS. 
 
 Proud Maisie. | The Violin-Plaver. 
 
 By ANTHONY TROLLOPE. 
 The Way we Live Now. I Scarborough s Family. 
 Fran Frohmann. | The LaadLcasuers. 
 
 By FRANCES E. TROLLOPE. 
 Like Ships upon the I Anne Furness. 
 Bea. I Mh.be". 3 Progrcs?. 
 
 By IVAN TURGENIEFF, &c. 
 Stories from Foreign Novelists. 
 
 By MARK TWAIN. 
 The American Claimant, j Pudd nhead Wi'sc-n. 
 Tho£l.COO iBank note. Tom Sawyer.Detectlve. 
 Tom Sawyer Abroad. I 
 
 By C. C. FRASER=TYTLER. 
 Mistress Judith. 
 
 By SARAH TYTLER. 
 Lady Bell. i The Blackball Ghosts. 
 
 Barijd Diamonds. | Tae Macdonald Lass. 
 
 By ALLEN UPWARD. 
 
 The Queen against Owen | The Prince of Balkistan 
 
 By E. A. VIZETELLY. 
 
 Th3 Scorpion : A Romance of -Spain. 
 
 By WILLIAM WE5TALL. 
 
 Sons of Belial. 
 
 By ATHA WESTBURY. 
 
 The Shadow of Eilton Fembrook. 
 
 By JOHN STRANGE WINTER. 
 A Solaier s C'lUdren. 
 
 By AlARGARET WYNMAN. 
 My Flirtations. 
 
 By E. ZOLA. 
 The Downfall. I Money. ! Lourdes. 
 
 The Dream. The Fat and the Thin. 
 
 Dr. Pascal. 1 Rome. 
 
 CHEAP EDITIONS OF POPULAR NOVELS. 
 
 Post 8vo, illustrated boards, 2S. each. 
 
 By ARTEMUS WARD. 
 
 Artemns Ward Complete. 
 
 By EDMOND ABOUT. 
 
 The FeUah. 
 
 By HAMILTON AIDE. 
 
 Carr of Carrlyon. 1 Confidences. 
 
 By MARY ALBERT. 
 
 Brooke Finchleys Daughter. 
 
 By Mrs. ALE.XANDER. 
 
 Maid, Wife or Widow? | Valerie s Fate. 
 
 Phillstia. 
 SUange Stories. 
 Bab V Ion 
 
 For Malmie's Sake. 
 In all Shades. 
 The Beckoning Hand 
 The Devils Die. 
 The Tents of Shem. 
 
 By GRANT ALLEN. 
 
 The Great Taboo. 
 Dumaresq s Daughter. 
 Duchess of Powysland. 
 Blood Royal. 
 Ivan Great's Master- 
 piece. 
 The Scallywag. 
 This Mortal CoiL 
 
 By E. LESTER ARNOLD. 
 
 Phra the Phoenician. 
 
 By SHELSLEY BEAUCHAMP. 
 
 Orantiey Grange, 
 
 BY FRANK BARRETT. 
 
 Fettered for LUe. 
 Little Lady Linton. 
 Bitween Life & Death. 
 The Sin of Olga Zassoa- 
 
 lich. 
 Folly Morrison. 
 Lieut. Barnabas. 
 Honest Davie. 
 
 A Prodigal s Progress. 
 Four.d Guilty. 
 A Recoiling Vengeance. 
 For Love andHonour. 
 John Ford; and His 
 
 Helpmate. 
 The Woman of the Iron 
 
 Bracelets. 
 
 By Sir W. BESANT and J. RICE. 
 
 By Celia 8 Arbour. 
 Chaplain of the Fleet 
 The Seamy Side. 
 The Case of Mr. Lucraf t. 
 In Trafalgar s Bay. 
 The Ten Years Tenant 
 By Sir WALTER BESANT. 
 
 Ready Money Mortiboy 
 Mv Little Girl. 
 With Harp and Crown. 
 This Son of Vulcan. 
 The Golden Butterfly. 
 The Monks of Thelema. 
 
 All Sorts and Condi- 
 tions of Men. 
 
 The Captains Room. 
 
 All in a Garden Fair. 
 
 Dorothy Forster. 
 
 Uncle Jack. 
 
 The World Went Very 
 Well Then. 
 
 Children of Gibeon. 
 
 Herr Paulus. 
 
 For Faith and Freedom. 
 To Call Her Mine. 
 The BeU of St. Pauls. 
 The Holy Rose. 
 Armorel of LyonPS5e. 
 S.KatherineVby Tow^r, 
 Verbena Camellia Ste- 
 
 phanotis. 
 The Ivory Gate. 
 The Rebel Queen. 
 
 By AMBROSE BIERCE. 
 
 In the Midst of Life.
 
 30 CHATTO & WINDUS, no & in St. Martin's Lane, London, W.C. 
 
 Two-Shilling Hovels— contiinied. 
 
 By FREDERICK BOYLE. 
 
 Ciimp Notes. 
 
 Savage Life. 
 
 Chronicles of No i 
 Land. 
 
 BY BRET HARTE. 
 
 Calttomiar Storiei. 
 
 Oai>riel Gouroy. 
 
 T)ie Luck of Roaring 
 
 Camp. 
 A o Heiresi of Red Dog. 
 
 By HAROLD BRYDQES. 
 Uncle Sam at Home. 
 
 By ROBERT BUCHANAN. 
 
 Flip. I Mamja. 
 
 A Phyllis of the Sierras. 
 A Waif of the Plains. 
 A Ward of the Golden 
 Gate. 
 
 The Martyrdom of Ma- 
 
 deUne. 
 The New Abelard. 
 Matt. 
 
 The Heir of Llnne. 
 Woman and the Man. 
 
 Shadow of the Sword. 
 A Child of Nature. 
 God and the Man. 
 Love Me for Ever. 
 Foxglove Manor. 
 The MaKt(>r o the Mlde, 
 Annan Water. 
 
 By HALL CAINE. 
 
 The Shadow of a Crime. I The Deemster. 
 A Son of Bazar. | 
 
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 The Cruise of tht Black Prince.' 
 
 By Mrs. LOVETT CAMERON. 
 Deceivers Ever. | Juliet's Guardian. 
 
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 The Advehturos of Jones. 
 
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 For the Lovt? of a Lass. 
 
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 Paul Ferroll. 
 
 Why Paul Ferroll Kille'i his Wife. 
 
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 The Cure of Souls. | The Reii Sultan. 
 
 By C. ALLSTON COLLINS. 
 The Bar Sinister. 
 by MORT. & FRANCES COLLINS. 
 
 Sweet Anne Page, 
 
 T\aasmigiation. 
 
 F om Midnight to Mid 
 
 ni?ht. 
 A Fight with Fortune 
 
 By 
 
 Armadale | AfterDark. 
 
 No Name. 
 
 Antouina. 
 
 Basil. 
 
 Hide and Seek. 
 
 The Dead Secret. 
 
 Queen of Hearts. 
 
 MiSo or Mrs. 7 
 
 The New Magdalen. 
 
 The Frozen Deep. 
 
 The L aw and the Lady 
 
 The Two Destinies. 
 
 The Haunted Hotel. 
 
 A Rogue s Life. 
 
 Sweet and Twentv. 
 The VlUage Comsdy. 
 You Plav me False. 
 Blacksmith and Scholar 
 Frances. 
 WILKIE COLLINS. 
 
 My Miscellanies. 
 The Woman in White. 
 The Moonstone. 
 Man and Wife. 
 Poor Miss Finch. 
 The Fallen Leaves. 
 Jezebels Daucrhter. 
 The Black Robe. 
 Heart and Science. 
 ' I Say No I ' 
 The Evil Genius. 
 Little Novels. 
 Legacy of Cain. 
 Blind Love. 
 
 By M. J. COLQUHOUN. 
 
 Every Inch a Soldier. 
 
 By DUTTON COOK. 
 Leo. I Paul Foster's Daughter. 
 
 By C. EGBERT CRADDOCK. 
 The Prophet of the Great Smoky Mountains. 
 
 By MATT CRIM. 
 The Adventures of a Fair Rebel. 
 
 By B. M. CROKER. 
 
 Proper Pride. 
 A Fanily Likeness. 
 Village Tales and Jungle 
 Tragedies. 
 
 Pretty Miss NeviUe. 
 Diana Harrington. 
 •To Let.' 
 A Bird of Fa9i>age. 
 
 By VV. CYPLES. 
 Hearts of Gold. 
 
 By ALPHONSE DAUDET. 
 The Evangelist: or, I'ovt Salvatidii. 
 
 By ERASMUS DAWSON. 
 The Fountadn of Youth. 
 
 By JAAIES DE MILLE. 
 
 A Castle in Spain. 
 
 By J. LEITH DERWENT. 
 
 Our Lady of Tears. | Circe s Lovers. 
 
 By CHARLES DICKENS. 
 
 Sketches by Boz. I Nicholas Mckleby. 
 
 O.iver Twist. | 
 
 By DICK 
 
 The Man-Hunter. 
 Tracked and Taken. 
 Caught at Last I 
 Wanted I 
 Who Poisoned Hetty 
 
 Duncan ? 
 Man from Manchester. 
 A Detective's Triumphs 
 
 By Mrs. ANNIE EDWARDES 
 A Point of Honour. | Archie LovcU. 
 
 By M. BETHAM-EDWARDS. 
 Felicia. | Kitty. 
 
 By EDWARD EGQLESTON. 
 Roxy. 
 
 Bv G. MANVILLE FENN. 
 The New Mistress. I The Tiger Lily. 
 
 Witness to thR Deed. | 
 
 By PERCY FITZGERALD. 
 
 DONOVAN. 
 
 In the Grip of the Law. 
 From Information R** 
 
 ceived. 
 Tracked to Doom. 
 Link by Link 
 Suspicion Aroused. 
 Dark Deeds. 
 RidUlec Read. 
 
 Bella Donna. 
 Never Forgotten. 
 Polly. 
 FaLal Zero. 
 
 Second Mrs. Tillotson. 
 Seventy - five Brooke 
 
 Street. 
 The Lady of Brantom*. 
 By P. FITZGERALD and others. 
 Strange Secrets. 
 
 By ALBANY DE FONBLANQUE. 
 
 Filthy Lucre. 
 
 By R. E. FRANCILLON. 
 
 King or Knave ? 
 Romances of the Law. 
 Ropes of Sand. 
 A Dog and bis Shadow. 
 
 Olympia, 
 Dae by 0ns. 
 A Real Queen. 
 Q-aeen Cophetua 
 
 By HAROLD FREDERIC. 
 Seth's Brother s Wife. | The Lawton Girl. 
 Prefaced by Sir BARTLE FRERE 
 Pandurang Hari. 
 
 By HAIN FRISWELL. 
 
 One of Two. 
 
 By EDWARD GARRETT. 
 
 The Capel Girls. 
 
 By GILBERT GAUL. 
 
 A Strange Manuscript. 
 
 By CHARLES GIBBON 
 
 Robin Gray. 
 
 Fancy Free. 
 
 For Lack of Gold. 
 
 What will World Say? 
 
 In l.nvc and War. 
 
 For the King. 
 
 In Pastures Green. 
 
 Queen of the Meadow. 
 
 A Heart s Problem. 
 
 The Deud Heart. 
 
 la Honour Bound. 
 Flower of the Forest. 
 The Braes of Yarrow. 
 The Golden Shaft. 
 Of High Degree. 
 By Mead and Stream. 
 Loving a Dream. 
 A Hard Knot. 
 Heart s De ight. 
 Blood-Money. 
 
 By WILLIAM GILBERT. 
 
 Dr. Austin s Guests. I The Wizard of th< 
 James Duke. | Mountain. 
 
 By ERNEST GLANVILLE. 
 The Lost Heiress. I The Fossicker. 
 
 A Fair Colonist. | 
 
 By Rev. S. BARING GOULD. 
 
 Bed Spider. | Eve. 
 
 By HENRY GREVILLE. 
 A Noble Woman. | Nikanor. 
 
 By CECIL GRIFFITH. 
 Corintbla Marazion. 
 
 By SYDNEY GRUNDY. 
 The Days of his VAnilv. 
 
 By JOHN HABBERTON. 
 Brueton s Bavou. | Country Luck. 
 
 By ANDREW HALLIDAY. 
 Every day Papers. 
 
 By Lady DUFFUS HARDY. 
 Paul Wynters Sacnflce.
 
 ChAtTO & WINDUS, I ro & III St. Martin's Lane, London, W.C. 31 
 
 Two-Shilling Novels — continued. 
 
 By THOMAS HARDY. 
 Under the Greenwood Tree. 
 
 By J. BERWICK HARWOOD. 
 The Ttnth Earl. 
 
 By JULIAN HAWTHORNE. 
 
 Eeatrijc Randolph. 
 Love— or a Name. 
 David roindexter s Dl«- 
 
 appeaianoe. 
 The Spectre of 
 
 Camera. 
 
 Garth 
 
 F\lice Quentin. 
 
 Forione s Fool. 
 
 lilizs Cadojma. 
 
 Sebastian Stroma, 
 
 Dust. 
 
 By Sir ARTHUR HELPS. 
 Ivan dd Siron. 
 
 By G. A. HENTY. 
 Rnjub the Jusgler. 
 
 By HENRY HERMAN. 
 A Leading Lad^. 
 
 By HEADON HILL. 
 Zambra the Detective. 
 
 By JOHN KILL. 
 
 Treason Felony. 
 
 By Mrs. CASHEL HOEY. 
 The Lover's Creed. 
 
 By Mrs. GEORGE HOOPER. 
 The House of Eaby. 
 
 By TIGHE HOPKINS. 
 Twlxt Love and Duty. 
 
 By Mrs. HUNGERFORD. 
 
 the 
 
 A Modern Circe. 
 Ladv Verner's Fi^ht. 
 The Red House iSyalery 
 
 A Maiden all Forlorn. 
 
 In Durance Vile. 
 
 Marvel. 
 
 A Mental Stmggle. 
 
 By Mrs. ALFRED HUNT. 
 
 Thomlcroft s MoJeL I Self Cone em red. 
 That Other Person. | The Le.-wlen Casket. 
 
 By JEAN INGELOW. 
 Fated to be Free. 
 
 By WM. JAMESON. 
 My Dead Self. 
 
 By HARRIETT JAY. 
 The Dark Colleen. | Queen of Connaught. 
 
 By MARK KERSHAW. 
 Colonial Facts and Fictions. 
 
 By R. ASHE KING. 
 A Drawn Ga:ne. | Passion s Slayt. 
 
 ' The Wearing of the Bell Barry. 
 Green.' I 
 
 By JOHN LEYS. 
 The Lindsays. 
 
 By E. LYNN LINTON. 
 
 Patricia Kemball 
 The World WeU Lost, 
 Under which Lord 7 
 Paston Carew. 
 ' My Love I " 
 lone. 
 
 By HENRY W. LUCY. 
 Gideon Fleyce. 
 
 By JUSTIN McCarthy. 
 
 The Atcnement of Learn 
 
 Dun das. 
 With a Silken Thread. 
 Rebel of the Family. 
 So Win; the Wind. 
 The One Too Many. 
 
 Camiola. 
 Donna Quixote. 
 Maid of Athens. 
 The Comet of a Season. 
 The Dittator. 
 Red Diamonds, 
 MACCOLL. 
 
 Dear Lady Disdain 
 Waterdale Nei-hbonra, 
 Mv Enemy's Daughter, 
 A Fair Saxon. 
 Linley Rochford. 
 Miss Misanthrope. 
 
 By HUGH 
 Mr. Stranger's Sealed Packet. 
 
 By GEORGE MACDONALD. 
 Heather and Snow. 
 
 By AGNES MACDONELL. 
 Qoaker Conpins 
 
 By KATHARINE S. MACQUOID 
 The Evii Eye. | Lost Eose. 
 
 By W. H. MALLOCK. 
 A. Romance of the Mine- 1 The New Repabllo. 
 teenth Century. | 
 
 By FLORENCE MARRYAT. 
 
 Open ! Sejane I i A Harvest of Wild Cats 
 
 Fightins the Air. | Wr.tten in Fire. 
 
 By J. AlASTERMAN. 
 Hal/ adozen Daughters. 
 
 By BRANDER AL^TTHEWS. 
 
 A Secret of the Sea. 
 
 By L. T. AlEADE. 
 
 A Soldier of Fortune. 
 
 _ By LEONARD ATERRICK. 
 
 The Man who was Gocd. 
 
 By JEAN MIDDLEMASS. 
 
 Touch and Go. | Mr. DorilUon. 
 
 By Airs. AlOLESWORTH. 
 
 Hathercourt Rectory. 
 
 By J. E. AlUDDOCK. 
 
 Stories Weud and Won | From the Bosom of th« 
 
 derful. I Deep. 
 
 The Dead Man's Secret. I 
 
 By D. CHRISTIE AlURRAY. 
 
 A Life s Atoneir.ent. 
 Bv the Gate of the Sea. 
 A Bit of Human Nature. 
 First Person Sin?nl.r. 
 Eob Martin 3 Little Girt 
 Time s Eevengps. 
 A Wasted Clime. 
 In Direst Peril. 
 
 A Model Father. 
 
 Joseph s Coat. 
 
 Coa:3 of Fire. 
 
 Vai Strange. 
 
 Old Blazer 8 Hero. 
 
 Hearts. 
 
 The Way of the World. 
 
 Cynic Fortune. 
 
 By AlURRAY and HERMAN. 
 
 One Traveller Returns. I The Bishois Bible. 
 Paul Jones s Alias. | 
 
 By HENRY AlURRAY. 
 
 A Game of Blufl. | A Son? of Sixpence. 
 
 By HUAIE NISBET. 
 ' Baii Up! ' I Dr.Bernard St. Vincent. 
 
 By ALICE O'HANLON. 
 The Unforeseen. | Chance ? or Fate 1 
 
 By GEORGES OHNET. 
 Dr. Rameaa. I A Weird Gift. 
 
 A Last Love. | 
 
 By Airs. OLIPHANT. 
 Whiteladies. I The Greatest Heiress la 
 
 The Piiaross Path. | Ergland. 
 
 By Airs. ROBERT O'REILLY. 
 Phoebe s Fortunes. 
 
 By OUIDA. 
 
 Tv/o Lit Wooden Shoes. 
 Moths. 
 
 Held in Bondage 
 
 Strathmore. 
 
 Chandos. 
 
 IdaUa. 
 
 Under Two Fla?^. 
 
 Ceeil Castlemaine sGage 
 
 Tricotria. 
 
 Puck. 
 
 Folle Farine. 
 
 A Dog of Fx&ndera. 
 
 Pasearel. 
 
 Signa. 
 
 Princess Napraxine. 
 
 In a Winter City. 
 
 Ariadne. 
 
 Friendship. 
 
 Bimbi. 
 Pipistrello. 
 A Village Commnn*. 
 Wanda. 
 Otkmar. 
 Frescoes. 
 In Maremma. 
 Gnilderoy. 
 Ruffino. 
 Svr.in. 
 
 Santa Barbara. 
 
 T*^o Offenders. 
 
 Ouidas Wisdom, 
 
 and Pat a 08. 
 
 Wit, 
 
 By AlARQARET AGNES PAUL 
 
 Gentle and Simple. 
 
 By C. L. PIRKIS. 
 Lady Lovelace. 
 
 By EDGAR A. POE. 
 The Myst«ry of Marie Kocet. 
 
 By Mrs. CAMPBELL PRAED 
 The Romance of a Station. 
 The SoB of Counts S3 Adrian. 
 Oat' aw and Lawmaker. 
 Christina Chard 
 
 By E. C. PRICE. 
 Valentlna. l Mrs. Lancaster's £1t»L 
 
 The Foreigners. | Gerald. 
 
 By RICHARD PRYCE. 
 ICn Maxwell's Ai!ectioas.
 
 32 CHATTO & WINDUS, no & iii St. Martin's Larife, London, W.C. _ 
 
 Two-Shilling Novzvs—contintted. 
 By JAMES PAYN. 
 
 The Talk of the TowiL 
 Holiday Tasks. 
 A Perfect Treasure. 
 What He Cost Her. 
 A Confidential Agent. 
 Glow-worm Tales. 
 Tiie Burnt Million. 
 Sunny Stories. 
 Lost Sir Massingberd. 
 A Woman's Vengeance. 
 The Family Scapegrace. 
 Gwendoline 8 Harvest. 
 Like Father, Like Son. 
 Married Beneath Him. 
 Not Wooed, but Won. 
 Less Black than Were 
 
 Painted. 
 Some Private Views. 
 A Grape from a Thorn. 
 The Mystery of Mif- 
 
 bridge. 
 The Word.And the Will. 
 A Prince of the Blood. 
 A Trying Patient. 
 By CHARLES READE. 
 It is Never Too Late to A TerribleTemptation. 
 
 Bentinck's Tutor 
 
 Murphy 8 Master. 
 
 A County Family. 
 
 At Her Mercy. 
 
 Cecil E Tryst. 
 
 TheClyffardsof Clyffe 
 
 The Foster Brothers. 
 
 Found f)ead. 
 
 The Best of Husbands. 
 
 Walter B Woid. 
 
 Halves. 
 
 Fallen Fort'.:ne«. 
 
 Humorous Storiei. 
 
 £200 Reward. 
 
 A Marine Residence. 
 
 Mirk Abbey. 
 
 By Proxy. 
 
 Under One Roof. 
 
 High Spirits. 
 
 Carlyon s Year. 
 
 From Exile. 
 
 For. Cash Duly. 
 
 Kit. 
 
 The Canon's Ward. 
 
 Mend 
 Christie Johnstone. 
 The Double Marriage. 
 Put Yourself in His 
 
 Place 
 Love Me Little, Love 
 
 Me Long. 
 The Cloister and the 
 
 Hearth. 
 The Course of True 
 
 Love. 
 The Jilt. 
 The Autobiography of 
 
 a Thief. 
 
 By Mrs. J. H. RIDDELL. 
 Weird Stories. 
 Fairv Water. 
 Her Mother s Darlingr. 
 The Prince of Wales's 
 
 Garden I'arty. 
 
 By AMELIE RIVES. 
 Barbara Bering. 
 
 By F. W. ROBINSON; 
 Women are Strange. | The Hands of Justice. 
 
 By JAAIES RUNCIMAN. 
 Skippers and Shellbacks. | Schools and Scholars, 
 Grace Balmaign's Sweetheart. 
 
 By W. CLARK RUSSELL. 
 
 Round the Galley Fire ""•" "" — -'' 
 
 On the Fo'k'sle Head 
 
 Foul Play. 
 
 The Wandering Heir, 
 
 Hard Cash. 
 
 Bingleheartand Double- 
 face. 
 
 Good Stories of Men and 
 other Animals. 
 
 Peg Wof&ngton. 
 
 Griffith Gaunt. 
 
 A Perilous Secret. 
 
 A Simpleton. 
 
 Readiana. 
 
 A Woman-Hater. 
 
 The Uninhabited House. 
 The Mystery in Palace. 
 
 Gardens. 
 The Nun's Curse. 
 Idle Tales. 
 
 The Romance of Jenny 
 
 Harlowe. 
 An Ocean Tragedy. 
 Mv Shipmate Louise. 
 Aione on a Wide Wide 
 
 Sea. 
 
 In the Middle Watch. 
 
 A Voyage to the Cape. 
 
 A Book for the Ham- 
 mock. 
 
 The Mystery of the 
 'Ocean Star.' 
 By GEORGE AUGUSTUS SALA. 
 
 Gaslight and Daylight. 
 
 By JOHN SAUNDERS. 
 
 Ony Waterman. I The Lion in the Path. 
 
 The Two Dreamers. | 
 
 By KATHARINE SAUNDERS. 
 
 Joan Merryweather. I Sebastian. 
 
 The High Mills. LMargaret and Ellzi 
 
 Heart Salvage. I beth. 
 
 By GEORGE R. SIAIS. 
 
 Rogues and Vagabonds. 
 The Ring o' Btlls. 
 Mary Jane's Memoirs. 
 Mary Jane Married. 
 Tales of To day. 
 Dramas of Life. 
 
 Tinkletop 8 Crime. 
 
 Zeph. 
 
 My Two Wives. 
 
 Memoirs of a Landlady. 
 
 Scenes from the Show. 
 
 The 10 Commandments. 
 
 By ARTHUR SKETCHLEY. 
 
 , Match in the Dark. 
 
 By HAWLEY SMART. 
 
 Without %ove or Licence. 
 
 By T. W. SPEIGHT. 
 The Mysteries of Heron i Back to Life. 
 
 Dyke. 1 The LondwaterTragedy. 
 
 The Golden Hoop. | Burgo s Romance. 
 
 Hoodwinked. Quittance in Full. 
 
 By Devious Ways. I A Husband from the Sea 
 
 By ALAN ST. AUBYN. 
 A Fellow of Trinity. I To His Own Master. 
 The Junior Dean. Orchard Damerel 
 
 Master of St.Beaedlct's I 
 
 By R. A. STERNDALE. 
 Tlie Afghan Knife. 
 
 By R. LOUIS STEVENSON. 
 New Ai-abian Nights. | Prince Otto. 
 
 By BERTHA THOMAS. 
 Cressida. I The Violin Player. 
 
 Proud Maisie. | 
 
 By WALTER THORNBURY. 
 Tales for the Marines. | Old Stories Retold. 
 
 By T. ADOLPHUS TROLLOPB. 
 Diamond Cut Diamond. 
 
 By F. ELEANOR TROLLOPE. 
 Like Ships upon the I Anne Furness. 
 Boa. I Mabels Progress. 
 
 By ANTHONY TROLLOPE. 
 
 Frau Frohmann. 
 Marion Fay. 
 Kept in the Dark. 
 John Caldigate. 
 The Way We Live Now. 
 
 The Land-Leaguers. 
 The American Senator. 
 Mr. Scarborough's 
 
 Family. 
 GoldenLion of Granpere 
 
 By J. T. TROWBRIDGE. 
 
 Farnells Folly. 
 
 By IVAN TURGENIEFF, &c 
 Stories from Foreign Novelists. 
 
 By MARK TWAIN. 
 
 Life on the 
 
 Mississippi. 
 9 and the 
 
 Pauper. 
 A Yankee at the Court 
 
 of King Arthur. 
 The £1,000,000 Bank- 
 
 Note. 
 
 A Pleasure Trip on the 
 
 Continent. 
 The Gilded Age. 
 Huckleberry Finn. 
 I.I.arkTwain's Sketches. 
 Tom Sawyer. 
 A Tramp Abroad. 
 Stolen white Elephant. 
 
 By C. C. FRASER-TYTLER. 
 Mistress Judith. 
 
 By SARAH TYTLER. 
 The Bride s Pass. The Huguenot Family. 
 
 Burled Diamonds. The Blackball Ghosts. 
 
 St. Mungo s City. What SheCameThrough 
 
 Lady Bell. Beauty and the Beast. 
 
 Noblesse Oblige. Citoyeone Jaqueline. 
 
 Disappeared. 
 
 By ALLEN UPWARD. 
 The Queen against Ov^en. 
 By AARON WATSON and LILLIAS 
 
 WASSERMANN. 
 The Marquis of Caratas. 
 
 By WILLIAM WESTALL. , 
 Trust-Money. // 
 
 By Mrs. F. H. WILLIAMSON/ r 
 A ChUd Widow. 
 
 By J. S. WINTER. 
 
 Cavalry Life. | Regimental Legend!. 
 
 By H. F. WOOD. 
 The Passenger from Scotland Yard. 
 The Englishman of the Rue Cain. 
 
 By Lady WOOD. 
 
 B^CELIA PARKER WOOLLEV. 
 
 Rachel Armstrong ; or, I.ove and Theology. 
 
 By EDMUND YATES. 
 The Forlorn Hope. I Castaway. 
 
 Land at Last. | 
 
 OGDEN, SMALE AND CO. LIMITED, PRINTERS, GREAT SAFFRON HILL, E.C,
 
 31 
 
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 F)i 
 
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