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 ULIAM :;
 
 L I B RAFLY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 U N IVLRSITY 
 
 or ILLINOIS
 
 
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 A^cujucr^^
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 TRIXTED EV 
 
 SPOTl'ISWOODE AXD TO., NEW-S rHEET SQUARE 
 
 LONDON
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 BY 
 
 JULIAN STUEGIS 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON 
 LONGMANS, OEEEN, AND CO. 
 
 1885 
 
 A II lights re&nrved
 
 Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/johnmaidment01stur
 
 8^3 
 
 10 
 
 MY MOTHER
 
 I. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The debating-room of the Oxford Union was 
 unusually full. Tlie great debate of the year 
 was in progress ; it was a party question ; 
 and the youthful champions of the two 
 political parties were there in full force. All 
 the long benches were filled with young men, 
 tall and short, fat and thin, sallow most of 
 them as studious youth are apt to be, with 
 hair rather rough and with ragged remnants 
 of undergraduate gowns upon their backs. 
 
 Most of the audience were reading men, 
 for the Union was not a fashionable resort ; 
 and the few who suggested idleness or
 
 4 JOHN MAIDMEXT 
 
 dulness looked more like the lovers of beer 
 and skittles than of hunting and champagne. 
 Here and there in the rows of young faces, 
 which showed the feehng of the moment, 
 was the less simple countenance of some don, 
 whom the fame of this great debate had 
 drawn to the place. A little ashamed of 
 being there, a little contemptuous of his 
 neighbours' seriousness, perhaps a httle en- 
 vious, the young dons prepared to listen to 
 the contest of these tremendous politicians. 
 And not only were the long benches on the 
 lloor of the House too full for comfort, but 
 the light gallery, which ran all round the 
 oval chamber, was packed with men, and 
 even a few light gowns of ladies gave colour 
 to the scene. Above the gallery itself was 
 more colour, but sadly faint and faded, where 
 from the upper wall the knights and damosels
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 5 
 
 of decaying frescoes, the brief effect of young- 
 enthusiasm, looked down upon these hving 
 boys, who dreamed, some of them, that they 
 would move the world. 
 
 Suddenly the babbling and scuffling were 
 hushed, as the door of the chamber swung, 
 and the dignified President in correct dress- 
 clothes moved up between the facing benches 
 to his high seat at the end. This end of the 
 room was a little raised above the rest of the 
 floor ; on each side of the presidential chair 
 boldly-curved green seats were fitted to the 
 curved walls ; and these seats w^ere now 
 filled to their utmost capacity by the com- 
 mittee-men and chief ^speakers, who had 
 followed the President into the room. 
 
 The debate had been adjourned from the 
 last meeting, and, as everybody was eager to 
 hear the brilhant young Eadical who was to
 
 6 JOHN MAIDMEXT 
 
 address the House first, there was no long 
 delay in calling him to his feet. 
 
 With a whispered word to the friend at his 
 side, John Maidment stepped quickly forward 
 to the table, and faced the crowded House. 
 
 More than half the attraction of the great 
 debate was the expectation of a great speech 
 from him, and he knew it. It was generally 
 admitted, not only that he was the orator 
 of his contemporaries, but even that during 
 many generations of copious rhetoric there 
 had been no speaking at Oxford like the 
 speaking of Maidment of Balliol. And now 
 Maidment was to make his last speech in the 
 Union, and he meant it to be his best. There 
 was a worthy audience ; there were more op- 
 ponents than supporters, and he liked that ; 
 there was expectation in the air. The room 
 was full of hght, though a green shadow
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT • 7 
 
 seemed to lie high up in the vaulted roof; 
 the warmth of party strife was ready to break 
 forth ; the heat of young humanity was there 
 already ; the eager welcome died away, and 
 in a profound silence Maidment began his 
 speech. 
 
 The speech began, but it was not effective ; 
 something was wanting. It sounded fine and 
 it seemed full of matter ; but the listeners 
 were not warmed so quickly as they had 
 hoped to be. The orator's great intentions 
 hampered him ; he was too eager that this 
 speech should be eminent, that it should 
 surpass all his former efforts. He tried to 
 lift it to a higher level ; he felt himself com- 
 paratively ineffective, and, vexed by this 
 recurrent feeling, he roused himself to elo- 
 quent passages, which seemed to end abruptly. 
 It was just such an audience as he had wished.
 
 8 JOHX maid:\iext 
 
 and yet he could not move them, as he had 
 fancied himself moving them when he lay in 
 bed that morning. Indeed, his audience were 
 too considerate ; for foes, as well as friends, 
 were so eager to hear him and to give him 
 every chance of a final triumph, that he 
 spoke at first in a silence which chilled him. 
 Two streams of thought were his as he 
 continued. Though his mind was busy with 
 the making of sentences, it was busy too 
 with questioning their effect. Would his next 
 phrase warm them, and should he catch their 
 warmth? As he spoke, he felt his hearers' 
 disappointment, and his hottest words seemed 
 to turn cold on the air. He was cold and 
 cross, and every other moment he was ready 
 to sit down, to curse himself for a fool, to 
 admit that his great speech was a failure. 
 Indeed, John Maidment's last Oxford ora-
 
 JOH:^r MAIDMENT 9 
 
 tion might have been httle better than a 
 failure had not help come from an unex- 
 pected quarter. 
 
 Anions the little thin^^s which irritated 
 the young speaker, as he laboured with his 
 task, was the presence of a small number of 
 undergraduates, who differed widely from the 
 rest of the audience. They had a sporting 
 look, and their clothes were both better and 
 brighter ; it was their first visit to the Union. 
 John knew some of them, and it annoyed him 
 to think that they had dined together, and 
 had come to hear him as a novelty, as a few 
 nights before they had waited on a music- 
 hall singer. His eyes met theirs again and 
 again, and each time a slight irritation fol- 
 lowed. Their behaviour was harmless and 
 they seemed attentive ; but John fancied an 
 air of superiority. As he stood looking down
 
 10 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 the long chamber, they faced him from the 
 gallery opposite ; he could not ignore them ; 
 their presence was another cause of discom- 
 fort and annoyance. Yet from these young 
 men came help. For some time they Hstened 
 with becoming gravity ; but, as they became 
 accustomed to this new atmosphere of debate 
 and began to gain some notion of the 
 speaker's meaning, the more intelligent felt 
 first a growing amazement, then a quick rush 
 of indignation. They had known, when they 
 came to hear him, that Maidment was a 
 Eadical — ' an awful Eadical,' they had called 
 him ; some of them had thought it strange 
 that he did not prefer their society to that of 
 men who seemed to them only half shaved 
 and dingily dressed. But, for all their pre- 
 paration, this radicalism of a man who had 
 been at school with some of them seemed.
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 11 
 
 when it actually assailed tlieir ears, unworthy 
 and outrageous. It seemed impossible to 
 stand still opposite to a fellow who talked 
 like that, and not utter a protest. 
 
 On the other hand, John Maidment's 
 utterances were cruder and more subversive 
 than usual ; for in his efforts to warm himself 
 and his hearers he flung them out with un- 
 comfortable emphasis and vehemence. From 
 the dull level of his speech he broke abruptly 
 into short phrases of denunciation, with 
 which he hoped to excite himself; and these 
 poor phrases assumed an unnatural distinct- 
 ness. More and more the young orator felt 
 the ineffectiveness of his speech, and his eye 
 full of vexation rising to the group of smart 
 young men read in their simple faces con- 
 demnation of his extravagance. 
 
 Who were they, that they should condemn
 
 12 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 him, these idlers and careless Sybarites? 
 These were the men with whom, if he had 
 chosen the primrose path, he would have 
 spent his time at Oxford. Whenever he had 
 felt brief desire of their soft luxurious life, of 
 cricket in summer and hunting in winter, of 
 late rising and long lunching, contempt of his 
 own weakness had turned in an instant to 
 bitter scorn of their idleness and uselessness. 
 And now they had come here for absolute 
 vacancy in the hour which should have been 
 the hour of his triumph to witness his 
 failure ; their prosperous air, the look as of 
 men who had dined well, was a final ag- 
 gravation. His eyes sought theirs as he 
 launched his most acrid sentence, and across 
 the long space he seemed to read in their 
 boyish faces disapproval and derision. 
 
 As he looked, something more extrava-
 
 JOPIN MAIDMENT 13 
 
 gant tlian he had yet said came to him in an 
 instant, and, as he gave it utterance, he was 
 full of the wild wish to see how they would 
 like that. They did not like it at all. The 
 leader of their set cried out in mockery, 
 and his friends folloAved with loud mur- 
 murs. 
 
 The habitual Conservatives of the place 
 seemed only to have waited for a lead, 
 and the voice of the young orator was 
 drowned by a dull roll of dissenting voices. 
 In an instant the colour leapt to John 
 Maidment's cheek ; he felt real hot anger 
 well up from within him ; his cold fits were 
 gone. As the murmurs died away, indig- 
 nant words came thronging to his lips ; he 
 was glad in the midst of his wrath ; he 
 was conscious that the something needful 
 had come to him. His thoughts no longer
 
 14 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 went wandering here and there; there was 
 no divided stream ; with fury and exultation 
 he launched himself on the full current of 
 his speech. 
 
 And now John Maidment was like a 
 young prophet in the tents of the ungodly. 
 His eyes shone ; he saw in these genial young 
 men who had dined at the Mitre the 
 essence of all that was wrong with the whole 
 nation, with the world ; he burned to pul- 
 verise them. His denunciation of the idle 
 and luxurious, who, lolling at ease on divine 
 couches, moved with a nod resistance to 
 all true reforms, was Hke a personal attack ; 
 it was lucky that these young Britons had 
 gained from race and a hearty out-of-door 
 life a rare fund of defensive stohdity. The 
 dull speech blazed into brilhancy ; fierce 
 indignation made it almost poetical. Mur-
 
 JOHX MAIDMENT 15 
 
 murs of warm applause answered the mur- 
 murs of objection ; the real old party fires 
 burnt once more m these young specimens 
 of the eternal parties. The atmosphere was 
 thrilled with the quick ebb and flow of op- 
 posing passions, and John's voice was like 
 a trumpet in his own ears. It was a splen- 
 did burst of denunciation. 
 
 When the young Eadical paused after 
 the fury of his onslaught, the Liberal party 
 broke into exclamations of delight. They 
 were quickly moved to rapture, and this 
 brilliant hero appealed to both ears and eyes. 
 As he stood alert by the table, unable yet 
 to speak for the tumult of applause, flushed 
 and radiant and bold, he was as full of beauty 
 as of the nervous energy of the time. With 
 his head held high and his eyes shining he 
 waited till the sounds passed ; and then, with
 
 16 JOHX MAIDMENT 
 
 a fine rhetorical instinct, lie began to speak 
 in a new mood. His face changed like the 
 face of a consummate actor. He felt the 
 sympathy of the friends around him and 
 their generous admiration ; he yielded him- 
 self to the charm ; indignation had passed, 
 and the fair hope of the future held him. 
 His words seemed for his own delight to 
 clothe his thoughts with beauty ; he almost 
 tasted them ; he seemed to be listening to 
 somebody else's speech, and enjoying it 
 very much. He was content with himself. 
 A few minutes before he had been saying 
 to himself with bitterness that he was no 
 better than other people ; now a beguiling 
 voice seemed to whisper to him that he was 
 indeed set apart from the common crowd. 
 He knew that after his great burst of de- 
 nunciation he must not long delay the end.
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 17 
 
 Very gently he began to speak, and they 
 all were very still to hear. 
 
 'But, why should we be angry?' he 
 said. ' Is not the future ours ? We may 
 smile on our opponents, for to them is the 
 strife without hope, to us the star of 
 victory ; to them the clouds of darkness, 
 to us the splendour of the dawn. The day 
 is at hand. We who are but starting on 
 the high path of life, brothers in heart and 
 hope, we shall live to see the glorious 
 days when a free people in a free land, sole 
 masters one and all of the dear soil on 
 which we hve, sole masters one and all of the 
 destin}^ of our fair Fatherland — the glorious 
 days when we, a nobler and a juster people 
 in the eyes of God and man, shall put our 
 veto on all aggressive war, on all unequal 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 18 JOHX MAIDMEXT 
 
 burdens, on all unequal laws. Yes, we shall 
 live to see it. Do we not see it now ? Look 
 to the East, for from thence cometh the 
 morning ; nay, look to the West, for from 
 thence cometh the morning to the nations. 
 Liberty is good, and we shall be free beyond 
 the dreams of freedom. Equahty shall 
 cease to be a mockery, as when the rich 
 alone are rich enough to seek justice. Only 
 the good and the wise shall be held worthy 
 of honour, only the wise and the good and 
 the dignity of daily labour. And more than 
 liberty, more than equality, brotherhood, a 
 living brotherhood shall be ours. Aye, 
 and a brotherhood like ours shall be for the 
 nations too. Nation shall be as brother to 
 nation, all together with mutual help and 
 love working out the divine purpose in the 
 world. The day dawns, my brothers, if you
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 19 
 
 will but see. Speaking here for the last 
 time ' 
 
 Here the voice of the speaker seemed 
 to break, and a deep murmur of sympathy- 
 rose from all sides ; as it ceased he said : 
 
 ' I will say no more. Let my last words 
 in this place be, " Have faith, my brothers." ' 
 
 Before the last words were spoken, some 
 had risen from their seats ; young blood was 
 on fire, and the unstinted admiration of youth ; 
 it seemed an amazing thing that one of them- 
 selves should speak sa eloquently, with a 
 manner so faultless and a voice so beautiful. 
 
 When John sat down, there was such 
 tumultuous applause, that the dignified young 
 President grew anxious for the dignity of the 
 House. It seemed as if the wilder and more 
 revolutionary youth would toss the orator to 
 their shoulders, as if he were no more than 
 
 G 2
 
 20 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 the winner of a boys' race at school. There 
 was nothing but applause ; the Conservative 
 majority made no counter-demonstration. 
 Even the most sullen of these young oppo- 
 nents felt that there was nobility in the young 
 Eadical's errors ; even the most cynical of the 
 few dons present, though he smiled grimly 
 over a boy's broadcast sowing of political 
 wild oats, turned in the doorway for another 
 glance at this brilhant creature, illumined 
 by youth, by genius, and by faith. As John 
 sank down in his seat, his friend Paul grasped 
 his hand and wrung it hard, for he could not 
 speak. John was supremely happy. Even 
 the young men who had roused his wrath, 
 the Sybarites in check shooting-coats, were 
 pleasant in his eyes. He was intoxicated 
 with his triumph ; he was exquisitely con- 
 scious of his power ; he was pleased with
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 21 
 
 himself. As he felt Paul's honest hand grasp 
 his, he had a final exquisite sensation of 
 delight in this loyal, unquestioning friendship. 
 Pressing his friend's hand with his strong, 
 nervous fingers, he felt sure of his power over 
 men, sure that he was a leader of men, that 
 with his gifts he might go anywhere. And 
 he meant to go far. He was very ambitious.
 
 22 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 Paul Brent was slow of speech. Moved in 
 all his heart — and it was a very big one — by 
 the triumph of his friend, he could only ex- 
 press his feehngs by grasping his hand. It is 
 true that he opened his mouth, but, if any 
 word came forth with difficulty, it was too 
 short and too deep to reach even John's ear, 
 and it did little indeed to swell the clamour 
 of applause. And yet if all the enthusiasm 
 which John Maidment's speech excited could 
 have been weighed there and then, the joy 
 of Paul Brent in his friend's triumph would 
 have been found greater than that of all
 
 JOH^ MAIDMEXT 23 
 
 the tumultuous youth together. His was a 
 great unquestioning admiration, which had 
 grown slowly with his growth from the day of 
 his first meeting with his friend when they were 
 both small boys — a behef, which had gained 
 strength with every day, entwining itself with 
 all his habits of slow careful thinking, and 
 blending itself with the ^strong silent currents 
 of his deepest feelings. He had been charmed 
 by those qualities in his friend which were 
 least like his own : the quickness of under- 
 standing, the readiness of speech. From the 
 first John had seemed to him a shining person 
 in body as in mind. John had seen great 
 amazing truths at a glance, and Paul had 
 stared and stared till he had acquired a clear 
 view of them. John had swallowed great 
 principles, which were to transform himself 
 and through him the world, and Paul had
 
 24 JOHN MAIDMEXT 
 
 gulped them down with faith. There was 
 no hmit to the gratitude, of which he could 
 not express a thousandth part. He beheved 
 that this friend, who had been brought to 
 him in boyhood by a sort of happy chance, 
 had freed his eyes from bandages of prejudice 
 and error, and had shown him the world as it 
 might be, and as even he might help to make 
 it — a world of higher aims and purer lights, a 
 world of brothers, a world approaching per- 
 fection in all its parts by virtue of a universal 
 panacea which was called Democracy. He 
 beheved that John had taught him how to 
 live. 
 
 John on his side had no idea of the 
 strength of Paul's feeling for him. Indeed, he 
 often laughed at him for his cold tempera- 
 ment, and for the faintness of the flush which 
 came to his cheek in times of the greatest
 
 JOHI^ MAIDMENT 25 
 
 excitement. Of course he knew that he had 
 great influence with him, had had great 
 influence from the first. He did not think 
 much about it ; it seemed only natural ; it 
 was obvious that he should lead and Paul 
 should follow. 
 
 As Paul travelled down from Oxford a few 
 days after John's great speech at the Union, 
 he wished many times, as he had often wished 
 before, that he had told his friend how grate- 
 ful he was. ffis eyes rested rather vaguely 
 on the familiar scene, where the easy sloping 
 hills stand back from the valley garden of 
 the Thames ; and as he thought of his friend, 
 and that their college days were ended as 
 their school days had ended, there was a mist 
 on the river, though its morning mist had 
 vanished long ago. Later, when he had 
 passed through London, and the pastures and
 
 26 JOHN MAIDMEXT 
 
 hop-gardens and wheat-fields were gUding 
 past his window, the same wish came back 
 to him again and again. He told himself, 
 not for the first time, that there must be 
 something wrong with him, since he could 
 not plainly and frankly tell his friend how 
 well he knew the vastness of the debt which 
 he owed him. He set his teeth and nodded 
 his head shghtly, as he made up his mind 
 that once for all he would tell what he felt to 
 John when he joined him at Brentholme. 
 
 And now the train was drawing near to 
 the familiar station, and Paul could get a 
 distant view of his native village, straggling 
 loosely up the hill to the open gates of his 
 father's place. 
 
 This so-called borough was probably the 
 most insignificant place in England which 
 sent a representative to Parliament ; and the
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 27 
 
 choice of the representative depended on the 
 will of the present owner of Brentholme as 
 absolutely as it had depended on the will 
 of the most arbitrary of his ancestors. The 
 place had descended for many generations 
 from father to son, and the eldest son of each 
 alternate generation had gone into Parliament 
 as a matter of course. Every eldest son wished 
 to go into the army, but it was only the Brent 
 who had grown weary of sitting grim and 
 silent in the House of Commons while talk 
 ran jerkily on who allowed his eldest son to 
 become a soldier. Paul's grandfather had 
 been a member ; his father had been in the 
 army till he became a colonel ; it was there- 
 fore fixed as the Pyramids that Paul should 
 enter the House. 
 
 And now his time had come. He had 
 finished his Oxford life with credit : and his
 
 28 JOHX MAIDMEXT 
 
 next duty was to go through the form of 
 being elected by the friendly electors, who 
 had known him in his perambulator, and who 
 would have chosen him at first sight, peram- 
 bulator and all, if Colonel Brent had sug- 
 gested it. And now everything was ready. 
 The worthy gentleman who had contentedly 
 acted as seat-warmer was ready to go ; and 
 Paul was to occupy his place, and was not 
 sorry that it must be so. Indeed, the educa- 
 tion which daily intercourse with John 
 Maidment had given him made him pro- 
 foundly glad, first of all Brents, that even 
 by dumb voting he could help bring in the 
 golden time. He was profoundly glad, and 
 profoundly grateful to John. 
 
 As he looked at the straggling, unpretend- 
 ing pleasant village, it struck him even more 
 sharply than usual how unfair it was that
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 29 
 
 such a place should have the glory of a re- 
 presentative, and what a greater shame it was 
 that, while it continued to enjoy this honour, 
 its representative should not be John. How 
 wrong it was that he, the tongue-tied, should 
 walk into Parliament with his hands in his 
 pockets, and that his friend, the brilliant and 
 the eloquent, should have to chew his burn- 
 ing thoughts in silence I Glad as he was of 
 the career before him, he would not have 
 hesitated for a moment to give up his chance 
 to John, if it had been in his power to give 
 it up. But Paul knew, and John knew too, 
 that Colonel Brent was not to be persuaded to 
 change his plans. 
 
 The Colonel made few plans, but those 
 he made without help, and he did not discuss 
 them. Brought up very strictly by the last 
 Parhamentary Brent, he allowed his children
 
 30 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 a perhaps excessive freedom in everyday 
 matters ; but at certain epochs they found 
 duties awaiting them, and for escape from 
 these not all the arguments of all the advo- 
 cates would avail. It had lon^ been settled 
 that Paul, as soon as he had done with 
 Oxford, should go into Parhament. 
 
 It seemed to Paul that there was still a 
 good deal of unfairness in the world. There 
 was this ridiculous little rotten borough, and 
 he, the wrong man, was bound to represent 
 it ; and, when he had become its representa- 
 tive, he must help to deprive it of representa- 
 tion. It never occurred to him for a moment 
 that he need not join as heartily in the sup- 
 pression of this little family iniquity as in that 
 of all the other iniquities which they were 
 to smash in the good time coming. He was 
 a very simple soul. He wondered how his
 
 JOHX MAIDMEXT 31 
 
 father, staunch old Whig with inconsistent 
 pecuharities, would like the changes. He 
 thought that they would come very quickly. 
 He thought himself weak for hoping that the 
 glorious improvements would not include 
 the cutting up of Brentholme into cabbage 
 gardens in his father's day. If he were ever 
 allowed to inherit the place, and if the new 
 lights made it clear that cabbages were right, 
 he would stick in the first spade, though it 
 would scar his heart too. He had a deep 
 love for Brentholme. 
 
 And now the train stopped at the station, 
 and Paul stepped out quickly, for there on 
 the platform was his sister, his only sister and 
 fast friend. Nobody else got out at that quiet 
 place, and when the train moved on again, 
 Letty, unmindful of the porter, who was an 
 old family friend, put her arms round Paul's
 
 32 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 neck and would not let him go. Slie laughed 
 and almost cried, and could hardly keep her 
 feet from dancing. She had to stand a-tiptoe 
 to embrace her long-legged brother, and he 
 put on a fine blush as she kissed him before 
 the admiring friend who was arranging his 
 luggage on the truck. He unclasped her 
 hands by force, and held her away that he 
 might look at her. 
 
 She was a pleasant sight. There was the 
 fair skin of the family, though it was not free 
 from freckles, and there were the family blue 
 eyes ; but the little nose was the very opposite 
 of the Brent aquiline, and nose and mouth 
 and chin seemed to hint a shght wilfulness 
 which was unlike the Brent severity. She 
 seemed to be still a child though old enough 
 to be a woman, to be all compact of whole- 
 some country air and country thoughts and
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 33 
 
 simple ways of life. She laughed under Paul's 
 eyes, and her dimples were very pretty. She 
 insisted on holding his hand as they went up 
 the drowsy street, wherein there were but two 
 or three friendly folk to give them greeting, 
 and through the big park gates, which all day 
 long stood open to the village. It was a sign 
 of a long-estabhshed friendship. The Httle 
 Brents made themselves at home in their 
 neighbours' houses, and were aware of the 
 birth of every puppy in the place ; and in 
 turn they brought the school children from 
 the dusty road into the spacious playground 
 of the park. 
 
 Very near to its open gates stands the old 
 square house, square and solid as the family 
 itself, with its trim flower-beds about it (the 
 Colonel had a very orderly taste in flowers) ; 
 but beyond it the park stretches far away its 
 
 VOL. I. * D
 
 34 JOHI^ MAIDMENT 
 
 wide and generous spaces. It would give 
 small encouragement to the reforming spade, 
 for there is very little earth above the chalk. 
 It cannot be called well timbered, for it is 
 only in the deepest hollows that the elms 
 and beeches have grown large, while on the 
 upland slopes small clumps seem to cling for 
 life, and on the highest places the stunted 
 shrubs grow streaming with a driving wind. 
 Its beauty is the beauty of wide spaces and 
 open breezy life, of springy turf and lovely 
 line. The slopes melt into hollows and the 
 hollows swell into hills with the grace of 
 following waves ; and so the land spreads far 
 and free till it shps under the furthest park 
 paling and is far-reaching open down ; and 
 the downs stretch forward their long majestic 
 curves till they are broken into high chalk 
 walls by the buffets of the rolling sea.
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 35 
 
 CHAPTER ni. 
 
 Ox the morning after his son's return from 
 Oxford, Colonel Brent was pacing up and 
 down his den. The Turkey carpet, which had 
 lasted long, showed a marked line where 
 the Colonel was wont to walk backward and 
 forward for the assistance of the somewhat 
 slow process of thought. In the pleasant 
 morning light, which came freely in at the 
 bow window, everything in the room looked 
 old as the carpet. The red curtains, whicli 
 were pulled tight back, were faded. There 
 was a stiff high-backed leathern arm-chair, 
 the seat of which was hollowed by long 
 
 D 2
 
 36 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 occupation ; and there was a roomy leathern 
 sofa, with a mattress not much thicker than a 
 board. Between these well-worn articles of 
 furniture was a wide grate with high old- 
 fashioned mantelpiece ; on the mantelpiece 
 were a few pipes, a tobacco jar, a super- 
 annuated powder-flask, and a dog-whistle ; 
 and above these hung a map of the county 
 yellowed by age. There was nothing in the 
 room, except a pipe or two and the later 
 numbers of ' Baily's Magazine,' which the 
 Colonel's father would not have recognised at 
 a glance. The present owner looked tho- 
 roughly at home in his den. He had an air 
 as old-fashioned as his furniture, and his back 
 was stiffer than that of his chair. He looked 
 tall and strong, but he did not carry his 
 strength easily ; he had a peculiar air of 
 being hampered by his muscles. Of course
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 37 
 
 his eyes were clearly blue, and his hair thick 
 and fair. His skin, but for its summer tan, 
 might have been envied by the fairest Saxon 
 girl ; and an abundant golden beard covered 
 his square chin and massive throat. 
 
 When the Colonel had taken but a few 
 turns on his familiar track the door opened 
 and Paul came in. He had been for an early 
 ride about the park ; he looked longer in the 
 leg than usual in his breeches and gaiters, 
 and his face had a rosier colour. As he had 
 felt his favourite animal leap under him with 
 a treble portion of the springiness of the short 
 turf, and had met the fresh rush of the air as 
 he galloped against it, he had said in his 
 heart that he was a very lucky young man. 
 His life lay plain before him, and it seemed 
 very good. 
 
 The Colonel stopped in his walking, and
 
 38 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 father and son, equal in height, looked 
 straight at each other. After a minute the 
 Colonel began — 
 
 ' About this ' he said in his deep 
 
 voice, and stopped. 
 
 Paul nodded gravely. 
 
 ' This going into Parliament,' said the 
 Colonel, as if he finished his sentence with an 
 effort. 
 
 Paul nodded again. 
 
 ' Johnson wants to come out.' 
 
 Paul nodded. 
 
 ' Are you ready to go in ? ' 
 
 ' Yes,' said Paul. 
 
 Then there was a pause. The Colonel 
 could not speak without putting his chin up 
 first. On this occasion he put his chin well 
 up and opened his mouth, as if he were 
 going to say something momentous, and then
 
 JOHN" MAIDMENT 39 
 
 he shut his mouth with no word spoken. 
 His son waited patiently, being accustomed to 
 the thought that speech was a difficulty. At 
 last the father spoke a trifle lower than 
 usual. 
 
 ' You must not vote for any lowering of 
 the franchise,' he said. 
 
 'What.?' 
 
 ' It's gone far enough. I can't have old 
 Treddles voting.' 
 
 'You can't help it,' said Paul, who was 
 beginning to understand the force of his 
 father's words. 
 
 His father waited a minute, and then, with 
 his chin very much up and a faint flush on 
 his cheek-bones, he said — 
 
 ' I can help your having a hand in it.' 
 
 After this there was a longer pause. 
 
 ' You mean,' said Paul at last, and rather 
 VOL. r. * D 4
 
 40 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 huskily, 'that I am not to go into Par- 
 Hament.' 
 
 ' If you don't promise.' 
 
 ' If it isn't right that the people should 
 vote, the whole thing is — is bosh.' 
 
 On this the Colonel made no comment 
 either by voice or gesture. He stood firmly 
 planted before the empty grate, with the old 
 county map above his head, an embodiment 
 of all the decision of aU the Brents. 
 
 ' I believe in it,' said Paul with equal 
 decision ; ' and so I must do all I can to 
 help it.' 
 
 The Colonel hereupon opened his mouth 
 as if again he were about to say something 
 of importance, and this time from the depth 
 of his chest issued a single deep note, or 
 grunt, which might have meant anything. 
 It probably meant that he did not intend
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 41 
 
 to discuss the question, but waited to hear 
 whether his son would give the promise or 
 not. 
 
 ' I can't promise,' said Paul shortly. 
 
 His father said nothing, but looked at 
 him steadily. 
 
 ' Then I am not to stand for ' Paul 
 
 finished his sentence by a nod towards the 
 family borough. 
 
 ' No,' said the Colonel. 
 
 Paul stood a moment looking down at 
 the point of his boot ; then he turned to 
 the door, and when he had opened it he 
 said, with an obvious effort — 
 
 ' I am sorry not to do what you ask.' 
 
 ' Ah ! ' said his father, with the upward 
 movement of the head. 
 
 This deep, brief answer meant that he 
 was sorry for the fact, and that further
 
 42 JOHN MAIDMEOT 
 
 speecli was useless ; and Paul, being a Brent, 
 understood it, and accepted it as concilia- 
 tory. 
 
 Colonel Brent, when Ms son had left 
 him, stood in the same place, and in the 
 same attitude. He was not half so much 
 surprised as his son, for he had long arrived 
 at the conclusion that Paul had views, 
 probably young men's folly, unhke his own. 
 Though not a sign of it appeared in his face, 
 he was very sorry for his boy. He was 
 proud of him too, for he had taken his 
 disappointment like a man — like a Brent. 
 
 ' How hke the boy is to my father ! ' he 
 said to himself, with a softening of the heart. 
 
 If the Colonel had been in the habit of 
 thinking of himself, he might have said — 
 
 ' How like he is to me ! ' 
 
 He was not only proud of his son, but
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 43 
 
 even a little envious. At the bottom of 
 his heart he envied this chance of taking 
 a knock-down blow so pluckily. There was 
 a great deal of stoicism in the family, and 
 many of its members had felt a highly 
 rarified pleasure in enduring without a word 
 the buffets of fortune. The Colonel did not 
 sit down to examine his thoughts nor to 
 nurse his feelings. He had decided some 
 time before what the next step should be, 
 if Paul refused to promise. Paul had re- 
 fused ; and the Colonel, after standing silent 
 for a few minutes, put on his hat and walked 
 at his usual pace to the post-office. 
 
 Paul took his disappointment well, but 
 he showed more emotion than his father. 
 To him it was a complete surprise, and he 
 was a little staggered. An hour ago he had 
 seen his hfe fairly arranged before him, and
 
 44 JOH^" MAIDMENT 
 
 his life's work ready to his hand. Now 
 he did not know what he was to do. As 
 this was a state of mind which was always 
 unbearable to him, he began to consider at 
 once what his first step should be. He 
 could not rest till he had made some plan 
 of action ; and so to assist the process, and 
 only waiting a minute to unbuckle his spurs, 
 he strode away to tramp and think. He 
 walked more quickly than usual, and at first 
 his lips were very tightly pressed together ; 
 and so it may be fairly said that he showed 
 more emotion than his father. 
 
 But, walk as fast and far as he would, 
 Paul could not decide on his first step. He 
 thought that he must get away from home 
 for a while, but he was not sure that this 
 was not mere weakness. He thought that it 
 would be good for him as a Democrat to
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 45 
 
 visit America, but he was not sure that 
 this was anything more than a wish for 
 indulgence. However, the exercise had 
 parted his hps and brought him to his 
 normal pace, and he seemed calm as usual 
 when he came back from his walk and 
 found Letty on the terrace. When he saw 
 his sister, it struck him that she would be 
 hurt if she heard the news from anybody 
 but him, and, as he hated to hurt Letty, he 
 determined to tell her. He used the fewest 
 words. 
 
 ' Not going into Parliament ? ' she cried 
 out. 
 
 'No,' he said. 
 
 ' Won't the father give it you ? What 
 a shame ! ' she said, hotly — ' oh, Paul, what 
 a shame ! ' 
 
 ' He's right — from his point of view.'
 
 46 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 ' But why ? How can he be right ? 
 Why won't he let you go in ? ' 
 
 'He asked me not to vote for lowering 
 the franchise.' 
 
 ' And you wouldn't ? ' Her whole face 
 changed. ' Oh, Paul ! Such a little thing ! ' 
 
 ' It's big,' he said after a minute ; ' it's 
 at the bottom of the whole thing.' 
 
 ' Oh, but, Paul, to please the father ! 
 Can't you really promise him that ? ' 
 
 She put her two hands up to his 
 shoulders, and her sweet upturned face 
 was full of entreaty. 
 
 Her brother set his lips again, wishing 
 that he could explain. After a pause of 
 consideration he said — 
 
 ' A man in Parliament, who believes in 
 democracy and don't do all he can to give
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 47 
 
 the people votes, is ' — he looked about for a 
 word — ' is a sneak.' 
 
 This effort did not seem to have the re- 
 quired effect, for Letty still looked at him 
 with doubt and entreaty. 
 
 ' I think you ought to be ready to give up 
 something to the father,' she said. 
 
 ' But this is everything. Ask John when 
 he comes. He will show you. He can make 
 it clear.' 
 
 As he spoke of John, he determined to 
 write to him. This was the very first thing 
 to do. He even thought, that being so much 
 moved, he would be able to express himself 
 more warmly to his friend, and so some little 
 good might come out of this evil chance. 
 
 ' I can't help it,' he said, and he squeezed 
 his sister's httle hands rather tightly. Then
 
 48 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 he went and shut himself in his bed-room, 
 that he might write his letter. 
 
 ' Dear old man,' he wrote, and then he 
 stopped. 
 
 This was an affectionate style of beginning 
 a letter, which he had never used before. 
 He blushed ; he thought the words looked 
 gushing ; but there they were, written, and 
 they should go : — 
 
 'Dear Old Man, — I am not to go into 
 Parliament. The father won't have it. He 
 wanted me to promise not to vote for extend- 
 ing the franchise. Of course I could not 
 promise ; and so I am out of it. I don't like 
 it. I have told nobody but Letty ; and she 
 thinks me wrong. She does not understand. 
 You will understand. I wish I could make 
 you know that I know what I owe you
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 49 
 
 You have made me see things straight, and 
 what one may do, and what one may not. 
 When can you get away from Oxford ? We 
 shall all be — glad when you come here. 
 ' Yours ever, 
 
 ' Paul Brent.' 
 
 He blushed again as he wrote, 'Yours 
 ever ; ' it looked like the ending of a romantic 
 schoolgirl ; but he let it stand. 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 JOHIs^ MAIDMENT 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 By the afternoon post of the next day Paul 
 received a letter, and recognised with a secret 
 thrill the writing of John Maidment. Holding 
 it unopened in his hand, he considered it till 
 he had grasped the fact that it must have 
 been written before John had received his 
 letter of the day before. He smiled at the 
 thought that while he was reading John's 
 letter about everyday matters John might be 
 crying out with amazement over the news of 
 his disappointment. Smihng, he opened the 
 letter and began to read ; but in a moment 
 the smile had gone from his lips.
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 51 
 
 ' My dear Paul,' — John wrote — ' how shall 
 I ever thank you? When I read your 
 father's telegram offermg me the seat, I knew 
 in a moment what you had done. Paul, my 
 dear friend, yours is a heart of gold. There 
 is not one man in ten thousand who would 
 forego such a chance for the sake of a friend. 
 But you must pause and think. It seems 
 absurd to write this to you, who are always 
 pausing and thinking. I know you must 
 have thought this thing through and through 
 before you decided that I should go before you 
 into Parliament. Anyway, I shan't be really 
 happy till we are both there, and working 
 together again, as we worked for the schools. 
 If you don't repent your sacrifice even a httle 
 bit I can't refuse it. I am so sure that there 
 is my proper work — the work which I can 
 do best. There cannot be a doubt of that. 
 
 UNIVFR.SITY nc
 
 52 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 If I am good for anytliing, I am good for 
 speaking. It would be unpardonable in me 
 to refuse a chance of going into Parliament. 
 My obvious sphere of duty is in Parliament. 
 I am so glad that there can't be a shadow of 
 doubt about that, for your father put a thing 
 in his telegram which might have made me 
 pause if I had not been so absolutely sure 
 what I ought to do. He offered me the seat 
 on condition that I would not vote for lower- 
 ing the franchise. Of course I shall try to 
 argue him out of that. Anyway, it is of 
 course wholly different from promising to 
 vote against it — that I could not have pro- 
 mised. But the mere absence of a single 
 voter can make no difference ; the odds are 
 incalculably great. It would be simply pre- 
 posterous for anybody to allow such a thing 
 to keep him from a career in which he sees
 
 JOHjS^ maidment 5o 
 
 clearly his only real path of usefulness. It 
 would be madness. Oh, my dear Paul, how 
 can I thank you ? I have written all this as 
 if it was settled ; but you must not give up 
 this thing to me, if you have the least doubt 
 or regret. Write to me at once, and tell me. 
 Be sure that, if you draw back, I shall never 
 blame you. Only write and tell me all about 
 it, or I shall come flying home at once. I 
 can do nothing till I am sure. — Yours ever, 
 
 'John Maidment.' 
 
 Paul shut himself up with John's letter. 
 He could not bear to speak of it to anybody. 
 He read it through again deliberately ; he 
 examined it sentence by sentence ; he could 
 find no comfort in it. He was sure that his 
 friend was wrong, and this was a great shock, 
 for never before had he realised that in any
 
 54 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 matter of any importance John Maidment 
 could be wrong. It was a shock to the 
 foundations of all his usual thoughts and feel- 
 ings ; but yet he was sure that his friend Avas 
 wrong. Moreover, as he patiently examined 
 the letter, he arrived gradually at the con- 
 clusion that his friend more than half sus- 
 pected that he was wrong. He noted all the 
 expressions of certainty — ' I am so sure.' 
 ' There cannot be a doubt.' ' I am so glad that 
 there can't be a shadow of doubt.' ' It would 
 be simply preposterous,' John had written, 
 ' to be turned from a useful career by such 
 a trifle ; it would be madness.' Paul had no 
 doubt : his friend was wrong, and his friend's 
 conscience was uneasy. He wished with all 
 his heart that he had been with him. 
 
 What a revolution in himself was implied 
 by this wish he did not stop to ask. He felt
 
 JOHI^ MAIDMENT 55 
 
 the discomfort of the shock, but he did not 
 think about it. All his thoughts were for John, 
 and as he thought about him he was filled 
 with pity. The brilliant creature, who might 
 have grown great, was beginning with a mis- 
 take ; the young man full of noble aspirations 
 was yielding to the first temptation ; the 
 pohtician, who had thrilled his hearers with 
 visions of political purity, was to pay his 
 principles for the very start in the race. It 
 was pitiful. Paul wished with all his heart 
 that he had been near to strengthen him in 
 the hour of temptation. It was no use in- 
 dulging in such wishes. What could he do 
 now ? He decided that he could do nothing 
 yet. He must wait and see how his letter, 
 which had crossed this ill-omened epistle on 
 the road, would affect John Maidment. It 
 was impossible that John could consent to be
 
 56 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 less scrupulous than he, who had always 
 looked to him for guidance. Poor John ! 
 Paul foresaw that it would be bitter for his 
 friend to know that another had been firmer 
 under temptation ; but that was a small 
 matter, if only it might save him from begin- 
 ning Hfe with a fatal mistake. He must wait 
 and see how his friend would answer his 
 letter, and he hoped with all his heart that 
 the answer would include a refusal of the 
 Colonel's offer. 
 
 Paul had not long to wait. The post of 
 the next day brought John's second letter. 
 It was not long : — 
 
 ' Dear Paul, — Burn my letter of yesterday, 
 and forget that I wrote it. I can't tell you 
 how annoyed I am that I made such a mis- 
 take. Not that the mistake was strange.
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 57 
 
 I certainly never should have suspected that 
 even for a moment you would have seen the 
 tiling in such a false light. It is to be blind 
 to the relative importance of things ; it is to 
 be not conscientious, but fantastic. To give 
 up a career of high utihty rather than 
 promise to stand aside from a single measure, 
 which is certain to come without your help ! 
 You must have seen before this that that 
 is hopelessly unpractical. Go to your father 
 (you have probably gone already) and tell 
 him you will have the seat. Don't think for a 
 moment that I will grudge it you. It hurt 
 me, I confess, that you hesitated to do what 
 I was ready to do. Surely you don't think 
 me unscrupulous. I can't believe it. You 
 must know after all these years that my 
 dangers are all on the other side. If I fail in 
 life, as is only too likely, my failure will be
 
 58 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 due to a morbid conscientiousness. Of this I 
 am absolutely certain. More than enough of 
 this. I only write to ask you to burn my 
 last letter, and to tell your father at once that 
 you will take the seat. — Yours very truly, 
 
 'JoH^^ Maidment.' 
 
 To this letter Paul replied even more 
 shortly. 
 
 ' Dear John,' he wrote, ' I can't promise 
 what my father asks, and there is no chance 
 of his changing. I still hope that you won't 
 promise either. It is no good my arguing 
 about it, for you are a great deal cleverer 
 tha.n I am. Still, I feel strongly that you had 
 better let it alone. I would give a great deal 
 to be able to persuade you of this. It must 
 be such a bad business to start wrong. I go
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 59 
 
 to America to-morrow week, and shan't be 
 back till the election is over. 
 
 ' Yours very truly, 
 
 ' Paul Beent.' 
 
 Here the correspondence ended. Paul re- 
 ceived no more letters from John, but on the 
 day of his leaving home his father handed 
 him without a word an old telegram and an 
 open letter. The former had been sent by 
 John as soon as he received the Colonel's tele- 
 gram, and contained a grateful acceptance of 
 the seat ; the latter, which had been written at 
 the same time, brought more expressions of 
 gratitude, and asked twice why Paul had refused 
 the chance. Further missives had come from 
 John, and it was clear that he had not with- 
 drawn his acceptance ; and Paul, as he laid the 
 telegram and letter on his father's writing-table,
 
 60 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 laid down with them his last hope of his 
 friend's repentance. He could not speak ; his 
 eyes were smarting ; he felt the pain of lone- 
 liness. He had given to his friend unques- 
 tioning faith and the orenerous admiration of 
 a boy. With deep delight he had made his 
 friend his master. Eeserved and a little 
 narrow, he had been content with this one 
 master, and had concentrated on him all the 
 deep enthusiasm which he could not utter. 
 Now he had been forced to believe that this 
 friend was weaker than himself. It was a 
 revolution, with all the pain thereof. He had 
 no second guide to whom he might turn ; he 
 was forced to depend upon himself ; he stood 
 alone. 
 
 The Colonel, standing square before his 
 empty grate, was moved by a deep sympathy 
 for his boy, whose discomfort he in part
 
 joh:n' maidment 61 
 
 divined. All business details concerning the 
 son's tour had been settled between them in 
 the briefest manner. There was no more for 
 the father to say except ' Good-bye.' Still he 
 stared steadfastly at Paul, and at last he un- 
 locked his lips. He opened his mouth to say 
 that America would cure him of his demo- 
 cratic fancies, but he shut it again with no 
 word spoken, for it did not seem as if the 
 remark would ease his heart. He took Paul's 
 hand and held it hard ; Paul wrung his 
 father's hand for answer ; and so they parted. 
 When the young traveller parted from his 
 sister, there was at least on one side a greater 
 show of emotion. Letty was furious with 
 John, and at first she wilfully refused to see 
 anything except that, like a young cuckoo, 
 he had shoved Paul out of a seat which was 
 a family possession. When her brother had
 
 62 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 explained with care and pains that he had 
 refused it before it was offered to John, 
 and that he could not have taken it even 
 if his friend had refused it, she scolded 
 him and John too. Their conduct seemed to 
 confirm a theory which she was beginning to 
 4iold of the perversity of young men. 
 
 ' If he is wrong,' said Paul, patting her on 
 the shoulder, ' you ought to pity him. That's 
 what women are good for.' 
 
 ' Is that all? ' she said. 
 
 She thought it must be an inadequate 
 view of the value of women ; but, though she 
 mocked, she was pleased. She liked the 
 idea of pitying John. She was a little tired 
 of contemplating him on his pedestal. Her 
 beloved Paul had inspired her long ago with 
 an immense admiration for his friend — an 
 admiration which was excited to much liveli-
 
 JOHIf MAIDMENT 63 
 
 ness by the free criticism of her school-boy 
 brothers, who looked doubtfully at a man 
 who preferred study to looking for a rabbit. 
 She was as lively in defence as a ruffled hen, 
 and never saw John's merits so clearly as 
 in the holidays, when Jacky and Dicky 
 and Teddy accused him of being a prig. 
 These boys liked ' to get a rise ' out of Letty, 
 of whom, nevertheless, they highly approved. 
 Yet sometimes, when the younger brothers 
 were at school, their sister grew restless in 
 the attitude of respectful admiration ; and the 
 idea of being able to pity John came with an 
 irresistible fascination. It appealed to some- 
 thing protective in her, a dormant mother- 
 liness. She had been zealous in defending 
 an idol on a pedestal, and now the idol was 
 proved to be so small that she could protect 
 him under her wins^.
 
 64 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 'Be kind to liim,' said Paul rather 
 hoarsely. He was sure that John would 
 come home in no comfortable mood, and he 
 was very sorry for him. 
 
 ' Yes/ said Letty with sudden tears in her 
 eyes, ' I'll try to be kind.'
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 65 
 
 CHAPTEE V. 
 
 Paul had gone, but John still lingered in 
 Oxford. He had stayed up after term time 
 to write an essay, with which he hoped to 
 gain a University prize ; but after the arrival 
 of Colonel Brent'^s offer he had not written a 
 word of his essay, nor thought of it, except 
 to assure himself eagerly that he need never 
 finish it. As he was taking his final leave of 
 Oxford, he wanted to pack his books or see 
 them packed ; and perhaps some impulse to 
 sentimental leave-takings kept him rambling 
 about the walks of Magdalen or the field 
 paths of the surrounding hills. But still 
 Letty pronounced it amazing, and the Colonel 
 VOL. I. F
 
 66 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 thought it strange, that John delayed his 
 coming. 
 
 The delay was certainly unusual, for John 
 Maidment was wont to hurry to these good 
 friends ; and, though he was not related to 
 them even in the remotest degree, he had 
 never known any home but theirs. Indeed, 
 it seemed to John impossible that he had ever 
 had any other home. The pictures of his 
 childhood which his memory had kept were 
 as apparently commonplace as those of most 
 people, but in no two of them was the back- 
 ground the same. Here and there in those 
 first years, which are so long, a chance scene 
 remained starthngly clear, like a brightly 
 lighted station in a night journey by rail, 
 while tracts of time between, with all their 
 infant joys and sorrows, were mere darkness. 
 There was a picture of a woman with a dark
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 67 
 
 face, and earrings eyes and teeth all gleaming, 
 who chirped shrilly to a canary piping more 
 shrilly in answer, while the sun poured under 
 the yellow bhnd a broad flood of mottled 
 yellow light. There was another picture of a 
 redder face and a gay cap, which the infant 
 John was tearing from its place, while he was 
 half dragged and half carried down a passage 
 covered with oilcloth ; and, when in later life 
 he recalled this scene, he could hear the key 
 turn with a horrid shriek in the lock, and he 
 was alone again in the dark, wild with grief 
 and fury, beating on the door. There were 
 two or three more such pictures, which John 
 could summon from the past at will, and in 
 every picture there was a different woman. 
 From this fact he inferred that nurses did not 
 stay long with him, as from the difference 
 of the backgrounds he inferred that he had 
 
 r 2
 
 6S JOHN MAIDMEJN^T 
 
 spent a great part of his extreme youth in 
 travel. 
 
 Of all the disconnected scenes of early 
 childhood which his memory had kept for him, 
 the one which the boy liked best was this. 
 
 He was standing on a garden seat, and 
 about him was a soft arm covered with some 
 hght stuff, and he was looking down at the 
 sea ; and the sea was all blue, hke blue paint, 
 lightly speckled with gold, and ruffled and 
 glancing ; and close beside him was a tall 
 tree, and somebody said it was Hke an 
 umbrella, and he tried hard to see that it was 
 like an umbrella ; and other ladies had come 
 about him, laughing and kissing him, and say- 
 ing that he was pretty. A certain perfume 
 always brought this picture before him in a 
 moment. And while these soft creatures 
 were petting him, a man came laughing too
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 69 
 
 and touched his cheek with a fair silky 
 moustache, and murmured, ' Little son ! ' 
 
 And one of the ladies cried out, ' Do you 
 call him little son because you've forgotten 
 his name ? ' 
 
 And the man answered with more laugh- 
 ter, • I forget everything.' 
 
 After many years John could recall the 
 exact tone of voice in which the smiling, 
 exquisite man had answered ; and he liked to 
 recall it and the whole scene therewith, for it 
 was all that he could remember of his father. 
 And John Maidment was very much inter- 
 ested in his father, and this impression of him 
 as a most charming man was very pleasant to 
 him. It explained everything satisfactorily. 
 Besides, there was no other relative for him 
 to think about. His mother had died before 
 the date of his first mental picture ; and it
 
 70 JOHN MAIDMEXT 
 
 early became clear to him that he had either 
 no hving relations or none who cared to cul- 
 tivate his acquaintance. 
 
 In the early days of his life at Brent- 
 holme he asked a great many questions 
 about his father, but, as Colonel Brent was 
 the only person who could have answered 
 them, he obtained very little information. 
 So the boy became indignant, and asked no 
 more questions on that subject. And very 
 soon he became busy in building up a 
 complete theory of his father out of the 
 scanty materials which he had gathered, and 
 his single vivid impression of a charming 
 personality. He assured himself that Wilfred 
 Maidment (even the name was suggestive of 
 charm) had been the most brilliant and 
 popular man of his day. He knew that the 
 Colonel and he had been brother officers, and
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 71 
 
 he decided that the slow, silent Philip Brent 
 had found in the friendship of his irresistible 
 comrade the greatest delight of which he was 
 capable. It was evident that Philip had owed 
 all the brightness of his Hfe to Wilfred, and 
 the guardianship of his son was but a poor 
 return. Indeed, John went so far as to 
 assure himself that it was a great privilege 
 for Colonel Brent to look after Wilfred's boy. 
 As he did not like the idea of being under 
 obligations to people, he found great comfort 
 in this assurance. Without a doubt he was 
 a treat, as Wilfred's boy ; and he need not 
 trouble his guardian, who blushed and 
 frowned under interrogation, with questions 
 about the source of his pocket-money and the 
 cheques for schoohng and tailors. Probably 
 they came from America, where it was under- 
 stood that Mr. Maidment was dabbling in
 
 iZ JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 silver mines ; but, if the Colonel paid the bills, 
 he would be paid of course when his friend 
 came home, and in the meantime it was a 
 privilege for him to do what he could to 
 repay the debt of happiness which he owed 
 to the comrade of his youth. 
 
 Thus John made for himself a dehghtful 
 story of an unequal friendship in which the 
 gratitude was all on one side, and a delightful 
 picture of his absent parent, with the con- 
 templation of which he often pleased himself. 
 Once or twice in the early years the Colonel 
 had unlocked his Hps and informed John that 
 his father was coming home ; but each time 
 he had had to repeat the unlocking process 
 to say that he was not coming. Then even 
 the rumours of home-coming ceased. The 
 Colonel occasionally received letters from 
 Newport or Denver, or intermediate places,
 
 JQHK" MAIDMENT 73 
 
 but he did not show them to John. He 
 carried them off to his own den, and pored 
 over them, making slow calculations with 
 many figures, and answering them at last 
 with diiSculty, and yet with brevity. 
 
 When young Maidment was at school and 
 rapidly finding out that he was more clever 
 than his neighbours, he thought less and less 
 about his absent parent. There was the 
 Colonel, an excellent every-day father, more 
 free of money than of jaw ; and for the rest 
 the easy acquisition of all sorts of knowledge, 
 with an average amount of summer cricket 
 and football in winter, filled almost all his 
 thoughts. To surpass his fellows with appa- 
 rent ease, to know a lot of things and to be 
 admired for the knowledge, to win well- 
 bound books, became more pleasant than 
 toffee, though the boy always had a sweet
 
 74 JOHN MAIDMEXT 
 
 tooth. And so, as time went on and he 
 ' socked ' in places more and more exclusive, 
 he ceased to wonder why he heard so Httle of 
 his father, and why he did not see him. The 
 father whom he had constructed for himself 
 remained more or less in the dark, and was 
 only dragged out with effusion on very rare 
 occasions. When for instance John felt that 
 his talents received a cold acknowledgment, 
 or when he had dashed himself like a flowing 
 wave against some sohd purpose of the 
 Colonel, then he would assure himself with 
 fury that all would be well if his real father 
 were with him. Trembling with a great 
 excitement, he would fly to his ideal parent, 
 who somewhere in the silver mountains was 
 making a fortune in a manner the most pic- 
 turesque. A fur-clad hero of Ballantyne, a 
 modern Ealeigh, chief ornament of court and
 
 JOHX MAIDMENT 75 
 
 camp, an exiled prince in search of adven- 
 tures, there always was Wilfred Maidment, 
 exquisite, with a fair moustache, not a day 
 older, to carry comfort to his wounded boy. 
 
 At last came a telegram from Oxford 
 announcing John's coming, and a few hours 
 later came John himself. It was evening 
 when he stepped into the cool bare hall, 
 where the same old fox's mask smiled above 
 the whip-rack, and where the stuffed heron 
 leaned only a little more awry on the old 
 marble-topped table. 
 
 At the bang of the front door Jacky and 
 Dicky and Teddy dashed into the hall. 
 They had but just come home for the summer 
 holidays, and they greeted the new-comer 
 with a warmth which was caused in part by 
 the intoxication of the first days of free 
 roving. Those of the dogs who had the run
 
 76 JOHN MAIDMEXT 
 
 of the house trooped in at their heels, and 
 the whole party filled the house with a de- 
 lightful clamour of welcome. 
 
 But John looked beyond these boys and 
 dogs with anxious eyes. It seemed ominous 
 to him that Letty had not come with the rest. 
 She had meant to run out of the room with 
 the others ; she too had jumped up at the 
 sound of the door ; but some new shyness 
 suddenly stopped her, and she stood hstening, 
 breathing quickly. John's heart sank; he 
 was offended ; he felt her criticism in the air. 
 As he shook hands with the young Brents 
 and patted a dog or two in passing, he was 
 hotly but silently defending his own action, 
 and running through once more the many 
 arguments which proved the folly of Paul. 
 He was looking so anxiously for the girl, that 
 at first he did not notice the Colonel standing
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 77 
 
 in the entrance of his den ; but the Colonel 
 looked at him and was not satisfied. Even in 
 the dim light his strong eyes saw that John 
 was pale and that his mouth was anxious and 
 irritable, and the sight made him sad. John 
 was not far wrong in his theory of the feeling 
 which the Colonel had had for Wilfred Maid- 
 ment. The companionship of his graceful 
 friend had doubled the light of Phihp Brent's 
 life when they were boys in the Guards ; and 
 when the same friend who had always 
 brought his troubles to Philip finally brought 
 his son, who was the chief trouble of the 
 moment, the Colonel received the child with- 
 out a murmur. 
 
 Both friends had married and both had 
 lost their wives, and the one who had been 
 left with five children took the one child of 
 the other without a murmur, though with a
 
 78 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 sure conviction that he would have to be 
 alone responsible for his bringing up. He 
 had been alone responsible ; and as he had 
 watched the boy growing in grace and in 
 ability, there had grown up in him an affec- 
 tion as strong and deep as that which he 
 had felt for his father. It had in truth be- 
 come a privilege to look after Wilfred's boy. 
 He had been glad to see the boy grow in the 
 clean air of Brentholme and the fine simpli- 
 city of its daily life from a sallow nervous 
 child to a young man quick and abounding in 
 energy. As he saw the boy's industry and 
 zeal for knowledge, he had slowly acquired 
 an immense belief in him. Slowly, too, he 
 had formed the theory that here was his lost 
 friend without his old weaknesses and with 
 all his old charm. He had said in his heart 
 that here was a Wilfred without errors.
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 79 
 
 As he never said these things aloud, John 
 Maidment, though he guessed the friendship 
 which had existed between his real father 
 and the father who paid his bills, never 
 guessed how great a measure of the old de- 
 votion had descended to himself. The Colonel 
 loved him as a child of his own, and yet with 
 a peculiar tenderness for the child of his 
 friend. Now, as he stared anxiously at him 
 in the shadows, he told himself that he had 
 never seen him look so ill since he had taken 
 him, a puny child of seven, from his father's 
 arms.
 
 80 JOHN MAIDMEXT 
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 When Letty had so far conquered her unusual 
 shyness that she could look at John, she too 
 could see that he was not well. He was pale 
 and silent, and on small provocation irritable ; 
 and when he talked at all he talked fever- 
 ishly and laughed too often. She could see 
 that he was ill at ease ; she felt more and 
 more sorry for him, as she would have felt for 
 a naughty boy who had had quite enough 
 punishment. Now in his presence, as before 
 in imagination, she found a pleasure in this 
 pity; but, when she looked at the young 
 man with a new kindness, he was thrilled with
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 81 
 
 annoyance, as if each nerve were conscious of 
 her venturing to criticise him. He did not 
 want to be pitied. He must have her loyal 
 friendship and admiration. He could not do 
 without it. He made up his mind to broach 
 this matter of Parliament as soon as he could 
 find the girl alone. Better the immediate 
 discussion of this uncomfortable topic than 
 the gnawing consciousness that it was in the 
 thoughts of both and would fill every moment 
 of silence with intolerable uneasiness. 
 
 Full of this purpose of instant speech, he 
 went to bed and had a restless night. He 
 had not slept well of late, and, as this was 
 imprecedented in his hfe, he was vexed. At 
 Brentholme his bedroom was next to Paul's, 
 and this nearness sent his thoughts wandering 
 across the Atlantic with the string of excellent 
 arguments of which he was heartily sick. 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 Had not this wretched question of the borough 
 caused him pain enough in his lonely days 
 and restless nights at Oxford ? He had told 
 himself a thousand times that he had done 
 right ; he was furious at being obliged to tell 
 himself so often. And now when he was at 
 home, where it was natural that he should find 
 rest and comfort after his struggles, the whole 
 air was full of the criticism of this girl, this 
 mere child, who ought to know that he was 
 right without any explanation. He declared to 
 himself that it would be too absurd to explain 
 his conduct to Letty ; but yet he knew that 
 he had no chance of the repose which he 
 needed until he had talked to her about the 
 whole matter. He would talk to her and 
 have done with it ; but an uneasy doubt 
 cropped up once more whether even then he 
 would have done mth it.
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 83 
 
 On the next morning, when Letty, busy 
 with her garden scissors, saw John coming, 
 she saw too, more clearly than by candle- 
 light, how ill he looked. His face was white 
 and haggard, though he held it high and put 
 on a severe expression. She was not at all 
 impressed by his grand air. She had meant to 
 be very kind to him, being very sure that he 
 had suffered much ; but she felt rebellious 
 again, as he came and stood over her and she 
 snipped off the wrong bud. He began to talk 
 at once and to talk of Paul. When he had 
 begun, it seemed easier than he had hoped. 
 His words were always a great help to him. 
 He spoke of Paul very kindly and regretfully, 
 with the manner of a wise and good doctor 
 discussing a self-willed patient. He seemed to 
 take it for granted that his was the only pos- 
 sible view, and that his hstener must agree 
 
 VOL. 1. * G 2
 
 84 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 with him. Now this exasperated Letty, and 
 her intentions of sympathy vanished with 
 amazing quickness. She would not hear Paul 
 spoken of as if he had something the matter 
 with him. 
 
 ' How could he promise ' — she broke out 
 suddenly — ' not to do what he thought he 
 ought to do ? ' 
 
 ' It's absurd,' began John, and could get 
 no further. He stood digging his heel into 
 the grass. He had expected that Letty would 
 ask some such question, but, when he heard 
 it, he liked it none the better. 
 
 ' I don't suppose I can make you under- 
 stand,' he began again, and again stopped ; and 
 the girl went on with her business and said 
 nothing. ' It's absurd of Paul to suppose that 
 his support is necessary to this measure of 
 reform ; it's certain to be ; the cart wheel will
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 85 
 
 go round with or without the fly ; it seems to 
 me a sort of vanity to suppose that one is so 
 important.' 
 
 ' Paul isn't vain,' she said, standing straight 
 and looking at him ; ' you know he isn't ; he 
 hasn't a bit of vanity.' 
 
 John smiled in a superior manner. 
 
 ' Don't suppose that I blame Paul,' he said. 
 
 ' But you do — you do blame him when 
 you say he's vain ; he isn't a bit vain.' 
 
 'I think you may trust me not to abuse 
 my friends. You may trust me so far at least. 
 I meant no more than that it looked like 
 attaching too much importance to himself. 
 He was not even asked to oppose this measure, 
 this one measure ; he was merely asked to 
 stand on one side and see it pass. Upon my 
 word it's ridiculous ; I can't understand it in a 
 man like Paul.'
 
 86 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 He felt as if lie must make her speak ; but 
 she was bending her head again, that he 
 might not see her eyes, which a thought of 
 the absent Paul, whom she had blamed before 
 he went, had filled with tears. Her heart was 
 full of loyalty to her brother. 
 
 * At least,' said John, after a pause, in a 
 calmer and a more provoking tone, ' it shows 
 that Paul is not yet fit for political life.' 
 
 ' Perhaps he isn't,' she cried, in a moment ; 
 ' perhaps he is a great deal too good.' 
 
 ' It's good enough for me, I suppose,' 
 he cried out angrily, ' but not for Paul.' 
 
 She did not answer. 
 
 ' Eeally,' he went on after a moment, ' I 
 think I may be trusted not to do a mean 
 action ! It's too ridiculous ! Nobody ever 
 accused me of doing anything mean. I don't 
 pretend to be perfect, but you know as well
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 87 
 
 as I do that everybody has always laughed at 
 me for being over-scrupulous and over-con- 
 scientious, and — and ' 
 
 He stopped short, struck suddenly by the 
 thought that there was something ridiculous 
 in his words ; he looked angrily at the girl to 
 see if she was smiling. She was not smiling ; 
 she was resisting an impulse to slap him. 
 
 ' Of course,' he continued, ' I believe as 
 much as Paul in universal sujQfrage and all that ; 
 but one must give up something in life ; one 
 cannot expect everything to be just as one 
 wants it. Was I to allow a single preference of 
 my own to keep me from a career in which I 
 know that I have a chance of being useful to 
 the world ? I should have blamed myself all 
 my life long if I had refused the chance and 
 wrapped myself in my virtue and my talent in 
 a napkin. Why don't you write to Paul. ^ Why
 
 88 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 don't you persuade him to come back ? He 
 knows, anyway, that I would not stand m his 
 way for one moment.' 
 
 She hstened to him with pouting hps and 
 arched eyebrows, and, when he had finished 
 his speech, she looked up at him, and — 
 
 ' I think Paul was right,' she said loyally. 
 
 ' Then you think me wrong ? ' he cried out 
 sharply. 
 
 ' Oh, John,' she said, ' I don't want to say 
 any more ; I don't want to blame you — only 
 you must not blame Paul.' 
 
 ' Of course I am nothing in comparison 
 with Paul.' 
 
 He was sick of his own arguments, and 
 angry with her because she would not argue. 
 He was very restless, and, after standing silent 
 beside her for another long minute, he 
 shrugged his shoulders and marched off to
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 89 
 
 the house. She looked after him with a face 
 full of doubt ; she was longing to throw the 
 garden-scissors at him as he stalked away in 
 dignity, and longing to call him back and to 
 say that she was sorry for having hurt him. 
 
 John Maidment passed a disagreeable 
 day, in which the clamour of boys and dogs 
 seemed at times an intentional insult ; and 
 the disagreeable day was followed by an 
 almost sleepless night. He began to think 
 that he must be ill, and visions of possible 
 maladies trooped by his pillow. Most per- 
 suasive arguments which he might have used 
 in his talk with Letty came to him in the 
 silent watches, and he dismissed them more 
 and more angrily. Again and again he 
 declared to himself with fervour that his 
 conduct needed no defence, that it was ex- 
 tremely praiseworthy. Did he not know —
 
 90 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 was he the only man who did not know — that 
 it was waste of time to argue with girls ? 
 Girls are notoriously irrational. Was he the 
 best judge of his own conduct, or was Miss 
 Brent? Such a question needed no answer. 
 He assured himself that he ought to be angry 
 with Letty. 
 
 But let him reason as he would, no fine 
 chain of arguments would draw him down to 
 sleep, nor away from the haunting certainty 
 that he should know no perfect rest till he 
 and she were friends. They had always been 
 friends. He could not be quiet under her 
 disapproval. It vexed him almost beyond 
 endurance that she, unreasonable girl though 
 she was, should not approve of all his words 
 and actions. His nerves and his arguments 
 would not let him lie quiet in bed. Hot and
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 91 
 
 restless he dashed out of his bedroom in the 
 morning. He needed the kixury of the fresh 
 clear air. He needed the presence of Letty, 
 and to make her his friend once more.
 
 92 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 CHAPTEE Vn. 
 
 Though John was early, he was by no means 
 the first of the household to taste the sweet 
 air of the morning. The boys had planned a 
 visit to the brook in the valley, where, even 
 in summer heat, there was one hole in which 
 after a walk of a mile and a half they could 
 get almost as good a bath as in their own 
 rooms. These boys liked the days to be 
 long ; they followed the same pursuits ; they 
 were capital friends. If they quarrelled, they 
 made it up without explanations ; if each 
 fought for his right, the winner was as likely 
 as not to give up the prize to the loser ; if 
 they had borne some buffets from each other,
 
 'JOHN MAIDMENT 93 
 
 they were as one against the rest of the 
 world, bound by an alhance unwritten, even 
 unspoken. They took each other on a 
 sensible work-a-day level. They did not go 
 into solitary places to ponder on their mutual 
 offences ; they did not conclude that the world 
 was hollow because brother was not always 
 loving brother, nor would make any show of 
 loving him when he refused to do his fair 
 share of bowling. They had tumbled up to- 
 gether very happily in the wholesome country 
 air, and in that simplicity of life which seemed 
 good to their stalwart father. 
 
 Now, as these lads' returned from their 
 morning bath they skirted the village by a 
 field-path, and, when they came to the field 
 beyond the churchyard, there they espied 
 their sister running races with the old rector's 
 watch -dog. This excellent mongrel, who was
 
 94 JOHIS- MAIDMENT 
 
 of SO amiable a temper that he would not 
 bark at the most notorious robber of hen- 
 roosts in the county, appealed very strongly to 
 Letty's pity on account of the monotony of 
 his Hfe, which was not reheved, as is that 
 of more commonplace watch-dogs, by fits of 
 furious clamour and attempts to strangle him- 
 self with his collar. So, when Letty had 
 gone through the farmyard and said ' Good- 
 morning ' to the other girl, who came clatter- 
 ing out of the dairy with her broad face rosy 
 and shining, and when she had gone down 
 the village street and had received a good 
 report of the blacksmith's baby, she re- 
 membered the parson's ineffectual guardian 
 and loosed him and took him for a run in his 
 master's meadow. 
 
 Letty was light-hearted this morning, for 
 she had made up her mind to be kinder to
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 95 
 
 John. To be angry with those she loved was 
 always painful to Letty ; and her conscience 
 had been pricking her, and that was painful 
 too. Paul had told her to be very kind to 
 John, and now Paul was countless miles away, 
 and she had seized the first opportunity of 
 doing what he had asked her not to do : she 
 had been unkind to John. As to this irri- 
 tating political matter, she was quite ready to 
 believe that they were both wrong. She had 
 an idea, that men were always getting hot and 
 wrong-headed about poHtics ; and she had 
 another idea, that young men who were given 
 to talking of women as irrational were them- 
 selves extremely fantastic. Very likely Paul 
 had been absurd : he was the dearest of 
 young men, but still a young man. But no- 
 body must say to her that Paul was absurd ; 
 nobody must even think it in her presence.
 
 96 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 If John would refrain from hinting or even 
 looking blame of her brother, she would be 
 kind to John. She could not bear not to be. 
 Of course John was wrong — more wrong 
 than Paul ; of course he ought to have re- 
 fused to profit by his friend's loss — to step 
 into his friend's shoes, however wilful it was 
 of the other to step out of them. John was 
 wrong; but, if only he would not blame 
 Paul, she would forgive him for Paul's sake 
 and his own. After all, there was a hidden 
 sweetness in the thought that John could be 
 wrong : it was delightful to forgive him. She 
 had begun to be a little bored by his perfec- 
 tion. She would be kind to him : she asked 
 herself why he should care, but she felt that 
 he would care. It was strange that her kind- 
 ness should matter to a man, strange and 
 sweet. She had begun several romances in
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 97 
 
 her day ; she had written them hastily in 
 old copy-books, when she was tired of play- 
 ing with her brothers, or riding over tlie 
 downs, or going to see her village friends ; 
 she had left them all unfinished. 
 
 As she ran with the dog in the old 
 rector's meadow, a sudden thought of one of 
 these tales, locked safely away in her old 
 oak box, came to her and made her stop in 
 a moment. What if the tale, which had 
 seemed so far away from real life, should 
 not be impossible after all ? What if it 
 should be her story, here and now, in this 
 real home of hers, which had seemed a 
 million miles from the utmost bounds of 
 the romantic world ? She stood still indig- 
 nant ; she was ashamed that such a thought 
 had come to her for a moment ; she stamped 
 her foot and bade it go ; she vowed she 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 would bum her old copy-books and tamper 
 no more with these phantoms, which could 
 start up like this and make her feel silly. 
 
 ' Silly ' was a severe word in Letty's voca- 
 bulary. She pressed her hands to her cheeks 
 as if she would push in the blushes; and 
 then she saw that her worthy comrade 
 crouched before her observant and challeng- 
 ing, with his stubbly chin rubbed on the 
 grass, and with a laugh she set off running 
 again, and only stopped when her brothers 
 hailed her from beyond the straggling hedge. 
 These creatures would be young men too, 
 and she felt inclined to scold them. Her 
 quick eyes saw at a glance that Teddy, for a 
 walk through the dewy grass, had put on his 
 evening pumps, and she rated him, and the 
 boy laughed. It was so like these young 
 brothers of hers; they always dashed into
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 99 
 
 the wrong clothes, very often each into the 
 other's. If Jacky caught a fish, he caught 
 it with Dicky's rod and Teddy's Hne, and then 
 they argued the question to whom the fish 
 belonged. 
 
 On this occasion, as they came out of the 
 field-path on to the road and saw John stand- 
 ing hatless by the old park gates, it was 
 borne in on Dicky that he had picked up 
 somebody's hat in the dim light of the hall, 
 and so without waiting for discussion he 
 dashed through the gates as if a gadfly had 
 stung him, and his brothers rushed after him 
 with a cry. 
 
 Thus Letty was left to walk towards John 
 alone. She would have been angry with him 
 for staring had she not seen, as he stood bare- 
 headed in the clear morning light, that he 
 was pale and anxious-eyed. Indeed, John's 
 
 H 2
 
 100 JOHN MAIDMEIs^T 
 
 face showed marked effects of the painful 
 struggle which had been again and again 
 renewed since the wretched day when he had 
 received Paul's letter at Oxford. He had 
 suffered much in spite of all his hot argu- 
 ments with himself. He had suffered, and 
 the girl regarding him in the tell-tale light 
 was full of pity. If he were weak and needed 
 help, she would try to help him. A great 
 tenderness brought tears to her eyes. She 
 would have liked to defend him against some- 
 body, as she used to defend him from the 
 curt criticisms of her younger brothers. He 
 looked so ill that she was frightened. 
 
 John saw Letty coming with the morning 
 sunhght slanting about her, and fresh from 
 classical atmosphere he thought of Hebe. A 
 poet might have pleased himself with the 
 fancy that the dew lingered on the wayside
 
 JOHN MAIDMENf 101 
 
 grass and the freshness of dawn in the air till 
 the maiden had passed by. John was not a 
 poet ; he had not even made verses except in 
 dead languages ; but the charm of the young 
 girl touched him in his most poetic corner. 
 His mood was very different from that of 
 yesterday ; it was different, and he knew that 
 it would serve him better. Yesterday he had 
 told himself that he could do without this 
 wilful creature's sympathy, but now he knew 
 that he could not do without it, and he knew 
 too that his softened mood would win it. He 
 had an exquisite sense of her brightness 
 and morning charm ; he was sure that nobody 
 would appreciate her loveliness as he did ; he 
 felt that she was made for him. He said 
 nothing, but held out his hand. 
 
 ' I am sorry,' she said, and could say no 
 more.
 
 102 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 ' It made me very unhappy,' said John 
 softly. His voice was always musical, and 
 now it seemed full of feeling. 'I can't do 
 without your help,' he cried more eagerly. 
 ' I want you to help me ; there is nobody 
 so much to me.' 
 
 She felt herself blushing and trembling, 
 half happy, half vexed with the world ; and 
 suddenly back came the thought of the 
 unfinished romance in the box. How was 
 she to know what these new intrusive feelings 
 meant? She did not hke them, yet would 
 not have them away. How should she know 
 if this were love, though she had written 
 fluently about it in blank books ? She wished 
 he would say something, and not stand 
 staring at her. If he did not let her hand 
 go, she felt that she should pull it away, and 
 perhaps box his ears, or perhaps begin to cry
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 103 
 
 like a fool. And then she did pull her hand 
 away, and then she thought she had been 
 unkind again, and so she seized his hand 
 again, and pressed it for a moment. It was a 
 promise of help, of friendship, perhaps of 
 more. With all her generosity, she felt that 
 she had pledged herself, and she would not 
 draw back ; only she would not think yet 
 what her unspoken promise meant. 
 
 John was quick to feel, and he felt that 
 he had better keep silence. There was no 
 hurry ; he felt sure of her. When her hand 
 pressed his, he accepted all which it could be 
 made to mean ; he felt sure of her. He had 
 never doubted Letty ; he knew that she was 
 true ; it was a keen delight to foresee that 
 some day it would be this girl's chief duty to 
 be true to him. 
 
 And now began a very healing time for
 
 104 JOHX MAIDMEXT 
 
 John Maidment. There was peace between 
 him and Letty. It is true that now and then 
 came a wild impulse to prove to her that 
 Paul had been wrong — absurdly wrong ; but 
 he bit his hps and walked away till the fit 
 was over, and in time this impulse came less 
 often and less strong. 
 
 Then letters came from Paul, letters a 
 little less brief than his speech, and in them 
 were messages for John as for the rest ; and 
 so Paul's name came to be mentioned natu- 
 rally between John and Letty, and so a 
 barrier fell. 
 
 At last she spoke to him of his public life 
 with curiosity and with no sign of blame, 
 and at the word he poured forth much which 
 he had been longing to say to her. He spoke 
 with growing fire of his hopes of being useful 
 to his fellows, of his high ideal of a hfe
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 105 
 
 devoted to the public good ; and the girl, as 
 she listened, felt that it would be hard indeed 
 that anyone so brilliant and noble-hearted 
 should be kept from the service of his 
 country. She almost forgot that she had 
 blamed him ; and nothing of the blame re- 
 mained but that consciousness of his falHbility, 
 which made him the more human, the more 
 lovable. All things seemed to work together 
 for the comfort of this young man who had 
 suffered. He had a fine taste for luxury, and 
 the very simplicity of Brentholme life gave this 
 midsummer luxury its finest flavour. It was 
 the noon of the year, full summer, and the 
 birds were still, and the trees in the deep 
 valleys massive and dark with leaves. All 
 day the old grey house stood open to delicious 
 air, and now and then the air was stirred and 
 quickened by light breezes from the open
 
 106 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 downs and open sea beyond. There were 
 shady places in the park ; there was the best 
 turf m the world ; there was a charming girl, 
 a little more silent than usual, a httle more 
 ready to listen. And John talked about him- 
 self, with only an occasional doubt whether 
 he were not talking of himself too much. 
 It was delightful to feel this young girl's 
 sympathy ; it was delightful to look forward 
 to an exciting eventful life. He looked to the 
 future with a growing confidence. Whatever 
 it might bring, he would be there, and he 
 could trust himself. The presence of the 
 girl charmed him ; the vision of his future 
 charmed him ; the dream of the two com- 
 bined soothed him with the most exquisite 
 charm. This charm he did not mean to 
 destroy by definite speech. The first ap- 
 proaches of young people are rich in delicate
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 107 
 
 shades of feeling, when even doubts and fears 
 are a form of pleasure ; and John found the 
 soft ebb and flow of tender emotions and 
 hesitations very much to his taste. The 
 lisping of the little waves in the uncertain 
 moonlight is lost when the clear sun rises 
 on a day of explanations and arrangements. 
 John knew that there was a lifetime before 
 him for plain speaking. His keen eyes grew 
 dreamy and his lips smiled of themselves, as 
 he lingered by Letty, and wooed her with 
 every look and every tone of his expressive 
 voice.
 
 II,
 
 Ill 
 
 CHAPTER Vm. 
 
 It was a milky morning in London, and 
 the day was St. Valentine's Day. The 
 west wind was blowing softly, and the soft 
 blue sky was flecked with little fleecy clouds. 
 These brief delusive glimpses of the spring 
 come to us year after year in February ; it 
 seems for a day that winter has gone, and 
 hfe begins again. 
 
 To John Maidment treading the London 
 pavement it seemed that life was beginning 
 indeed. Parhament had just met, and he 
 was a member ; social houses were beginning 
 to open their doors, and he was invited to
 
 112 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 enter ; all about him was tlie stir of novel 
 and interesting life. He walked fast along the 
 Embankment, glad of the freshness of the 
 morning and of the swelling tide with the 
 brown barges drifting ; it pleased him to walk 
 towards Westminster, and to glance up at the 
 clock-tower with a keen sense of property. 
 If an unquiet thought crossed him, he said to 
 himself with decision that Paul would have 
 felt so much less pleasure in all this than he 
 did ; he was sure that Paul was enjoying his 
 American tour as he never could enjoy poh- 
 tical Hfe ; he almost fancied himself envying 
 his friend the sight of that interesting, puzzhng, 
 and gigantic country. His thoughts flew to 
 Brentholme as he came striding into St. 
 James's Park, and fancying Letty there bare- 
 headed in the soft light he was glad of all the 
 quiet and snuphcity for her. That peaceful
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 113 
 
 simple home seemed the right phace for tlie 
 pretty warm-hearted girl, who was doubtless 
 thinking of him. It was well for her to be 
 there, thinking of him, waiting for him. His 
 fancies made him glow. When he was 
 wearied by his labours, how sweet it 
 would be to go for rest to that wholesome 
 corner of the world, and to find welcome in 
 those clear innocent eyes ! Brentholme and 
 its quiet folk were there, and he could 
 take them up again whenever he chose, and 
 find them just the same. Meanwhile he had 
 a thousand things to do, and he felt strong 
 enough to do them all. 
 
 There was drill on the Horse Guards' 
 Parade, and, as John came near, the men in 
 their tight white jackets began to march off 
 the ground. Their slanted bayonets were 
 blue in the slanting fight ; the drums and fifes 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 began their cheerful comical music ; the 
 young man's heart leapt responsive ; he walked 
 all round the Park for the sake of their com- 
 pany. The waters of the big pond were pale 
 blue, almost as blue as the slanted bayonets, 
 in the milky hght. But that the sooty trees 
 were bare, it might have been the first morning 
 of summer. 
 
 John marched exultant. As the full soft 
 wind met him with a caress, his heart leapt 
 up in answer ; his confidence was almost 
 ecstasy. It was a glorious thing that he had 
 taken his first step in public hfe ; he had 
 but to keep marching, and he was bound to 
 arrive. It was good for him and good for 
 the world too, for he was on the right side ; 
 and how great a thing it was that he, with all 
 this power and vigour, which he felt in every 
 quivering nerve and every flying thought,
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 115 
 
 was on the right side ! Surely it was no bad 
 world, in which a man so eager to do good 
 and so able found a fair way open for his feet 
 at the very beginning of his life. Paul him- 
 self ought to be delighted that the chance 
 had passed from him to his friend. It would 
 be a narrow selfishness in Paul to feel a 
 moment's regret that a Parliamentary career 
 lay open to one who had so much greater 
 power of doing good. John said to himself 
 that his friend was incapable of narrow sel- 
 fishness. His imagination showed him in the 
 future some triumphant night, and he felt the 
 pressure of Paul's hand eloquent of fervent 
 admiration. For John, full of exciting 
 visions, the regulation pace was not fast 
 enough. He had soon walked away from the 
 marching soldiers, and his pace grew quicker 
 with his thoughts. He lifted his face to the 
 
 I 2
 
 116 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 clear morning light, in which above the old 
 red palace of St. James, as in a bath of air, 
 the bright -plumed pigeons were circling. 
 It may be that each detail of the fair hour 
 added something to the young man's exalta- 
 tion, but it is certain that he did not dwell on 
 a single detail. He felt the quickening power 
 of the day ; and his quick mind flew, now to 
 his many advantages, now to the questions 
 of the day which seemed so easy to answer ; 
 exultant it passed to and fro between the 
 review of its own bright weapons and the 
 scenes where they would be used. To John's 
 flying thoughts, as to his hurrying feet, there 
 was a slight obstruction by the garden wall 
 of Marlborough House ; for there were lean- 
 ing or standing the usual loungers, men and 
 boys, with pot-hats and pipes, awaiting the 
 daily band.
 
 JOim MAIDMENT 117 
 
 And now the band came marching in all 
 their bravery, stalwart and gilded, and play- 
 ing the music of ' Carmen.' The music, 
 richer than the drums and fifes which he had 
 left, raised John up again, and brought a rush 
 of words to his hps. He was making fine 
 bits of a speech as he stepped along, imagin- 
 ing sentences of an Opposition speaker and 
 darting in reply the most brilliant and annoy- 
 ing epigrams. He did not have a moment's 
 difficulty in speaking for the other man, or 
 for himself. Indeed, he was carried away so 
 far by this dehghtful pastime, that in Pall 
 Mall a lady called him twice before he was 
 aware of her presence. 
 
 Lady Gertrude Bookham was not in the 
 habit of calling in vain. She pushed her 
 horse to the edge of the pavement, and 
 stopped him short within arm's length of the
 
 118 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 inattentive youth. As John looked up with 
 a start the young lady laughed, but there was 
 a little complaint in her tone as she said — 
 
 ' I can't imagine why you should want to 
 cut me.' 
 
 'Nor can I,' said he, like one awakened 
 from sleep, and they both laughed and looked 
 at each other. She was very pleasant to look 
 at, sumptuous in shape and colour as a 
 Venetian lady of Titian, straight and active 
 as an English girl accustomed to air and 
 exercise. She sat her handsome horse su- 
 perbly, and as she looked down upon John 
 the moment's annoyance gave way to frank 
 approval. 
 
 ' My father wants you to come to us at 
 Boucherett for Easter,' she said. 
 
 John hesitated ; he had meant to spend 
 Easter at Brentholme ; Boucherett was one of
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 119 
 
 the finest houses in England, and Lord 
 Whimley and Boucherett an influential 
 person in the political world, though he 
 belonged to the opposite party. 
 
 ' You are not engaged ? ' asked the young 
 lady quickly. 
 
 ' No,' said John. 
 
 'Very well, then,' she said with a short 
 laugh, ' I suppose you will honour us ? ' 
 
 There was a trace of impatience in her 
 tone, at which the tall young man who was 
 riding with her laughed. 
 
 John looked at him with sudden enmity. 
 
 ' Of course^ said Lady Gertrude plaintively, 
 ' if you have anything pleasanter to do ' 
 
 ' But I haven't,' said John quickly. ' I 
 shaU be delighted to come ; I was thinking of 
 other things ; you took my breath away.' 
 
 And now she beamed again, for there was
 
 120 JOHX MAIDMEIST 
 
 something complimentary in his words and 
 looks. As she turned her horse away she 
 became aware of her attendant cavalier, and 
 called to John again. 
 
 ' Mr. Maidment ! Mr. Maidment, don't 
 you know my cousin Algy ? You had better 
 know him ; you'll meet at Boucherett.' 
 
 When two young Englishmen of the well- 
 fed class are made known to each other, there 
 is generally a trace of defiance in their mutual 
 recognition. Between these two the trace 
 was more than usually definite : they both 
 nodded stiffly. They recognised each other 
 at a glance ; they were of about the same 
 age ; they had been at the same school ; they 
 had been at the same time at different colleges 
 at Oxford ; neither had sought the society of 
 the other ; both had been leaders in the world 
 of boys, and both had felt from the first a
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 121 
 
 mutual dislike. John now felt as if there 
 was a look of contempt in the light- coloured 
 eyes of his old acquaintance ; he flushed 
 slightly, and his nod was the more curt of the 
 two. 
 
 Algy Garner looked both fierce and lazy, 
 both heavy and refined. His head was like a 
 marble head, which the sculptor had finished 
 in the upper parts, but only roughly indi- 
 cated in the lower. The mouth, which John 
 remembered in the tell-tale days of boyhood 
 large and somewhat shapeless, with lips too 
 often pressed tight together by anger, was now 
 hidden by a big moustache ; but the heaviness 
 of the chin was still apparent. The forehead, 
 on the contrary, though it looked narrow 
 in comparison with the jaw, was finely 
 formed, and the aquiline nose conveyed to the 
 most careless observer an impression of
 
 122 JOHX MAIDMENT 
 
 aristocracy. Mr. Garner was tall, long- 
 limbed, strongly and rather heavily built. 
 He was understood to be a handsome man ; 
 he looked as if he came of a race accustomed 
 to be promptly obeyed ; with disciphne, which 
 he detested, he would have made a fine 
 cavalry officer; he had no occupation ; he had 
 had a small fortune. At school and college 
 he had been a leader, when he chose to be, a 
 leader in mischief of the more dangerous sort ; 
 but though he had been followed, he had not 
 been popular. He had been quick to show 
 his contempt of any hanging back, and not 
 the least careful to hide his opinion that the 
 fellow who hesitated for a moment was 
 afraid — an imputation pecuharly bitter to 
 boys. Altogether he was an uncomfortable 
 creature, admired rather than hked, indif- 
 ferent with flashes of white fierceness, taking
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 123 
 
 all the luxuries of life without gratitude, 
 riding hard and killing his thousands of game 
 with small show of enjoyment. Most women 
 admired him none the less because his manner 
 to them varied from indifference to some- 
 thing like rudeness ; but of all the women 
 of his acquaintance only one thought that 
 she could manage him, and that one was his 
 cousin, Lady Gertrude Bookham.
 
 124 JOHJS" MAIDMEXT 
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 John found London a big place. Even in 
 those small parts of London, the political 
 world and the world of exclusive society, 
 there were a great many other young men. 
 But the feeling of the crowd rather exhilarated 
 than depressed John Maidment : he rejoiced 
 that there were many competitors ; he felt no 
 depressing sense of his insignificance. The 
 race was about to begin, and he was in capital 
 training — not ' fat and scant of breath,' as a 
 youth overfull of unpractical philosophy. He 
 had studied metaphysics at Oxford, but had 
 taken good care, as he told himself, not to go
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 125 
 
 too far. He had stopped, as he thought, at 
 the right place. It was right to know what 
 philosophers were talking about, even perhaps 
 to show them in some unoccupied moment 
 that one knew what they were talking about ; 
 he did not mean to be set down as a Phihstine 
 politician ; he must know a little of all things 
 which interested his inteUigent contem- 
 poraries, literature, art, philosophy. But for 
 the moment these matters were of small 
 value ; all the time which he could spare from 
 the absorbing study of politics, which had 
 but just become the business of his life, was 
 demanded by little social duties, which in 
 their novelty were not without a certain 
 charm also. There were always notes to 
 answer, cards to leave, dinners to eat, parties 
 at which it was well to make a bow. He was 
 one in a crowd of young men, but he was one
 
 126 JOHN MAIDMEin: 
 
 of the more favoured ; he was not only enter- 
 tained as a new member of the party by the 
 wives of pohtical magnates, but he was made 
 welcome also at the smaller parties of the 
 most agreeable women. He was called ' very 
 good-looking ' and ' out of the common,' and 
 his air of abundant energy kept in due 
 drawing-room bounds by good taste had a 
 peculiar success in a society open-eyed and 
 open-mouthed for novelty. 
 
 In some few people of this select world he 
 aroused memories almost exciting of his bril- 
 liant and fascinating father ; they asked each 
 other what on earth had become of Wilfred 
 Maidment, when had he vanished and whither, 
 was he alive or dead ; they debated whether 
 the son were not handsomer than the father ; 
 they tried to remember if they had ever 
 heard of Wilfred having a son. They soon
 
 JOHN MAIDMExVT 127 
 
 gave up these vain questions, content with 
 the fact of the boy, a fact agreeable both to 
 eye and ear ; they saw his good looks ; they 
 heard that he was wonderfully clever ; they 
 thought it better not to speak to him of their 
 old friend Wilfred, since nobody could answer 
 the question whether he were alive or 
 dead. 
 
 If John received some flattering attention 
 in society, he aroused a more intelhgent cu- 
 riosity in the shrewdest of the political elders 
 whom he met in the House of Commons. It 
 is true that an Oxford reputation does little 
 for a youth beyond imposing on him the duty 
 of proving that he is no prig ; but John's gift 
 of words had been held at the university so 
 remarkable, that rumours of his power had 
 reached the ears even of party leaders. They 
 smiled in a superior manner when their sons
 
 128 JOHN- MAIDMENT 
 
 and nephews spoke of Maidment's oratory, 
 but they thought that, prig or not, the young 
 member was probably worth getting hold of. 
 Moreover, when John entered the House he 
 was a marked man ; he looked so young and 
 so clever, that he seemed to have stepped 
 in from the iniquitous old days of pocket 
 boroughs. His was one of the last of these 
 channels for introducing young men of talent 
 to the business of the country. Boroughs are 
 won now by other qualities than conspicuous 
 abihty ; and among the bald pates of dozing 
 legislators the keen boyish head of the new 
 member was refreshing as wild flowers among 
 the rocks. He could not help being a marked 
 man ; he had no wish to help it. 
 
 But after all it was neither his youth nor 
 his abihty, his gifts nor his graces, which had 
 most to do with attracting the attention of the
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 129 
 
 very shrewdest of the pohticians of the da}' : 
 it was the hour of his appearance in the 
 poHtical world. It was an hour of doubt and 
 change. 
 
 The old lines of division, which had 
 seemed distinct as the limit of hfe, were every- 
 where smudged and confused. The two great 
 parties, without which it had appeared to 
 English pohticians that poHtics were im- 
 possible, were so much alike at the edges 
 that prominent persons slipped from one 
 to the other with no apparent change of 
 doctrine. A Tory statesman took office in a 
 Liberal Government, and almost at the same 
 moment a couple of Liberal landowners sup- 
 ported a Conservative candidate for their 
 county. Old words had lost their meaning, 
 and none more completely than the verb ' to 
 rat.' The Conservative was eager to outbid 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 JOHX MAIDMENT 
 
 the Whig with promises of useful reforms ; 
 the Liberal was more prompt than the Tory to 
 sneer at universal laws of political economy 
 and fundamental principles of free government. 
 Each party boasted of their common sense ; 
 each accused the other of a latent tendency to 
 Communism. The Liberal party, on account 
 of the still extant confidence in their Liberal- 
 ism, found it easier to interfere efficiently 
 with personal liberty ; the Conservative, strong 
 ni their anti-revolutionary reputation, were 
 bolder to borrow from the Socialists plans of 
 State interference with the homes of the poor 
 and the purses of the rich. Liberty and order 
 rang in the perorations of Liberal orators ; 
 order and liberty answered from the perora- 
 tions of the Tories ; and good simple souls 
 thought that the good old fight was being 
 J ought with the zeal and faith of former days,
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 131 
 
 and that the dust which was thrown in 
 their eyes concealed the shock of a real 
 battle. Meanwhile, below this empty clamour, 
 the flinging of dust and the half-humorous 
 bandying of personalities, there was audible 
 sometimes a murmur which seemed more 
 serious. Now and then a political manager, 
 a pulse-feeler, a wire-puller, would pause in 
 his playful arrangements, and wonder what 
 was coming next, dimly conscious in one 
 inspired moment that a new force was at 
 work in this world which it was his mission 
 to manage, that some day uncomfortable 
 people might ask for something, which was 
 neither non-interference with their liberty of 
 living in pig-styes nor permission to drink in 
 poisonous water to the glory of the British 
 Constitution. 
 
 In days of doubt and change the eyes of 
 
 K 2
 
 132 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 less foolish men turn naturally to the young. 
 What have they learned ? What will they 
 teach ? How will the best of them face the 
 difficulties of their time ? These are interest- 
 ing questions, and it happened that some 
 people were asking them at the moment when 
 John Maidment dawned upon London and 
 the Palace of Westminster with his Oxford 
 reputation, his brilliant appearance, his air 
 of nervous energy, and the fine confidence 
 in himself which he carried not ungracefully. 
 What wonder, then, that shrewd and hesitat- 
 ing elders turned with some curiosity to this 
 youth, who was said to represent the opinions 
 of many of his ablest contemporaries, and to 
 have much influence with them ? They eyed 
 him as augurs may have eyed a promising 
 chicken, who bore within him the signs of 
 the times to come ; they came about him with
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 133 
 
 courtesy, and with something of the scientific 
 interest of medical students. 
 
 Among others the Earl of Whimley and 
 Boucherett had been told that he ought to 
 wish to have a look at the new young man 
 who was expected by some people to do some- 
 thing. Lord Whimley as a boy had kept 
 white mice and rabbits, and he still indulged 
 in the privacy of his family a liking for draw- 
 ing-room games and acting in charades ; 
 but, besides these innocent tastes, his position 
 and his cousin, Mr. Randall, who was a rising 
 man, obliged him to display a warm interest 
 in politics. He was the head of one of the 
 great pohtical famihes of the country ; he 
 had a family mansion in London, where the 
 wives and daughters of the party assembled 
 at regular intervals ; his place in the country 
 was famous not only for many historical 
 
 VOL. I. * K 3
 
 134 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 associations, but also for its splendour and for 
 its hospitality to all sorts of interesting people. 
 So when Mr. Eandall had impressed on Lord 
 Whimley that he ought to feel an interest in 
 John Maidment, Lord Whimley with his 
 grave air of party responsibility remarked to 
 his wife that there was a young Eadical 
 ' Maybird,' whom she had better ask to some- 
 thing. Lady Whimley, with the broad smile 
 which was always caused by any exhibition of 
 solemnity in her husband, asked her daughter 
 Gertrude if she had met such a young man ; 
 and Lady Gertrude, after plaintively expressing 
 her wonder that her parents never could get 
 a name right, said that they had all met 
 Mr. Maidment at dinner, added with more 
 emphasis that he was most interesting, and 
 finished by deciding that he should be asked 
 to Boucherett for Easter.
 
 JOHX MAIDMEXT 135 
 
 When the day of his visit arrived, John 
 set off for Boucherett with hvely pleasure. 
 He had bhamed himself long ago for having 
 hesitated even for a moment whether he 
 should accept this flattering invitation ; he 
 had told himself with decision that his friends 
 at Brentholme would have blamed him justly 
 if for the sake of spending Easter with them 
 he had lost such a chance of studying the 
 prominent people of the day in their hours 
 of less reserve. The fact that Boucherett was 
 one of the greatest Tory houses made the 
 invitation more complimentary, and would 
 make the visit more interesting. John was 
 thrilled with the idea that the big-wigs of the 
 other party might think it worth while to 
 try to pump him, even to try to convert him ; 
 he hoped with all his heart that they would 
 try ; he meant to impress them. He left
 
 136 JOH^^ MAIDMEXT 
 
 London for Boucherett with keen curiosity 
 and a purpose of enjoyment. The train in 
 which he travelled was full of guests who 
 were going to the same house : the small 
 dimly-hghted station seemed no more than 
 the ante-room to the magnificent place 
 whither he was bound ; he was amused by 
 the masses of luggage, the bustle of maids 
 and men with furs and dressing-cases, the 
 number and variety of vehicles which had 
 been sent to meet them ; he liked the feeling 
 of splendour and of spaciousness. The gates 
 were vast through which the carriages were 
 driven ; and in the growing darkness the 
 park seemed vaster than it was : there was a 
 lofty portico, and a loftier hall, and the 
 guests were led through a series of half-ligthed 
 rooms to the long gallery where in a circle 
 of light by the farther fire-place tea was
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 137 
 
 waiting for tliem. Even the solemnity of a 
 party which has been but just collected could 
 not depress John. The men were looking at 
 each other with a suspicious air, on the 
 defensive, each waiting for the other to 
 show that he desired a better acquaintance, 
 dropping brief remarks defiantly. The 
 women were sipping tea, and some were 
 probably thinking that tea and travel might 
 make their noses red at dinner. The 
 great room and the little light, the low 
 voices and frequent times of silence, were all 
 part of a certain dreariness which made an 
 emotional lady think tenderly of her home, 
 and made her husband consider with dismay 
 that he was bound to spend a week in that 
 majestic place at a time of year when there 
 was nothing to hunt or shoot. 
 
 This same long gallery was lighter when
 
 lo8 J0H:N' MAIDMENT 
 
 people assembled before dinner, and the 
 gleam of shoulders and the glitter of 
 diamonds made the scene more gay ; but 
 still there was stiffness, almost sadness. A 
 party of Englishmen and of Englishwomen 
 who have been but just collected, knowing 
 that they are expected to amuse each other 
 for a week, cannot but feel a certain oppres- 
 sion, which only dinner can remove. 
 
 At last some great doors were softly 
 opened; Lord Whimley with a muttered joke, 
 which he had borrowed from an American 
 paper, offered his arm to the Duchess, and his 
 guests went two by two through a smaller 
 room into the great dining-hall. Their feet 
 fell on thick noiseless carpets ; one could 
 scarcely hear the faint rustle of a gown 
 through the murmur of voices. The high 
 vaulted room was full of soft splendid hght.
 
 JOHN MAIDMEXT 139 
 
 and of the soft warm scent of flowers and 
 delicate food. Flowers were in profusion 
 from end to end of the long, table, and golden 
 dishes of fruit from the famous Boucherett 
 houses. As the long procession of diners 
 found their places, the row of powdered foot- 
 men broke into noiseless activity, and from 
 a further room came the sound of music. 
 Encouraged by the music, which was not too 
 loud, and charmed by the luxurious atmo- 
 sphere, people looked more boldly at each 
 other, and after soup began to talk more 
 freely. John was delighted ; the atmosphere 
 was new to him ; he felt great pleasure in the 
 sumptuousness of life. He had taken in no 
 lady, and he had time to look about him. 
 He liked to look down the long table and to 
 see, beyond gold plate and brilhant flowers, 
 Avhite necks bending and jewels gleaming,
 
 140 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 and in the pauses of the music to hear light 
 laughter and the tinkling of knives and 
 forks. As he smiled with pleasure seeming to 
 breathe his native air, a sudden vision came 
 to him of the faded chintzes and low ceilings 
 of Brentholme ; life there seemed thin and 
 chilly ; he was impatient of its Spartan 
 simplicity. The vision passed in a moment, 
 and John was aware of nothing but of 
 delicate odours and sounds, and of gracious 
 people seen through the impalpable vapour 
 of good living. A few of these people he 
 knew by sight, and to a very few he had 
 spoken ; but of most of them he knew 
 nothing at all. Only he had a comfortable 
 certainty that most were important people in 
 some way, and that he would make himself 
 pleasant to those whom it was worth while to 
 please. For the present he scarcely cared to
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 141 
 
 ask who they were ; it was enough that they 
 were part of this luxury, which was new to 
 him and very dehghtful ; he was content to 
 accept them vaguely as a rich background of 
 duchesses. 
 
 But if John was content to enjoy his 
 dinner and say little, his neighbours were by 
 no means of the same mind. He sat between 
 old Sir Ludovick EafFerty and Lady Charmian, 
 and both were inclined, as usual, to talk. Sir 
 Ludovick, though according to the common 
 notion of success he had been singularly 
 unsuccessful in life, was very clever, almost as 
 clever as he looked. His eyes, which were 
 very near to his long fleshy nose, twinkled as 
 brightly as a boy's. He spoke much less 
 from the throat than most Englishmen, and 
 the marked movement of his lips, which he 
 moistened often with the tip of his tongue.
 
 142 JOHI^ MAIDMEI^T 
 
 contributed to liis air of an old comedian 
 He had the face of a Parisian actor of farce 
 and the head of a great philosopher. His 
 imagination was only weaker than his logical 
 faculty, and he had a great collection of 
 stories, of which many were indecent but all 
 were comical. If some of these tales were rather 
 hard on his friends, it was not due to malice 
 but only to the subjection of friendship, as 
 of everything else, to his intense delight in 
 his own humour. Sir Ludovick EafTerty had 
 hardly turned one twinkling eye on John 
 Maidment before he was sure that he was 
 next to an intelligent listener. As he very 
 soon found out that his young neighbour was 
 a new-comer in the social world, he favoured 
 him at intervals during dinner with brief 
 notes on the people present. 
 
 John was delighted to listen, gaining
 
 JOIIX MAIDMENT 143 
 
 instruction with amusement. He reserved to 
 himself the right of disapproving of his infor- 
 mant; he had a suspicion that he was not a 
 good old man ; but for the moment he aban- 
 doned himself to the enjoyment of Sir Ludo- 
 vick's gossip as to the other novel luxuries. 
 Already there was somebody about whom he 
 particularly wished for information ; again and 
 again, as he glanced about him, he had met 
 the quiet gaze of two round brown eyes, 
 which regarded him with a fixed contempla- 
 tive look, and rather melancholy. Though 
 the lady's eyes were large and pathetic, she 
 seemed to the energetic youth neither young 
 nor pretty ; even at that distance and in that 
 becoming Hght she looked tired, freckled, 
 dark, and faded, a little puffy under the large 
 eyes ; she had drawn round her shoulders a 
 light shawl, as if even in that soft atmosphere
 
 144 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 she felt chilly. But John read interest in her 
 level musing gaze — interest in him ; and it 
 was this which attracted his eyes again and 
 again to the dull pathetic orbs of the chilly 
 lady. It was not long before Sir Ludovick in 
 one of the intervals of his dinner, which he 
 enjoyed thoroughly, discovered the direction 
 of the young man's glances. 
 
 ' Do you know her ? ' he asked suddenly ; 
 ' do you know Mrs. Lulham ? ' 
 
 He licked his lips and nodded to where 
 the lady sat, a little lower down on the other 
 side of the table. 
 
 ' No,' said John, and looked expectant. 
 
 ' I could tell you a story,' began the old 
 gentleman, with his philosophic head on one 
 side like a magpie's. 
 
 ' Don't listen to him,' said the lively and 
 good-natured Lady Charmian. ' Lud is a
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 145 
 
 very wicked old man, and tells stories about 
 everybody.' 
 
 Sir Ludovick pointed a sharpened finger- 
 nail at her. 
 
 ' I can tell you one about her,' he said. 
 
 ' Good gracious ! ' cried the lady. ' Stop 
 your ears, Mr. Maidment;' but she laughed 
 aloud as she spoke. ' Susan Lulham is per- 
 fectly charming,' she said — ' dreadfully clever, 
 but quite charming. We'll make her sing 
 this evening.' 
 
 ' She has a voice like a consumptive 
 mouse,' whispered Sir Ludovick hoarsely. 
 Lady Charmian ignored this uncomplimentary 
 comparison. 
 
 ' There's something about her singing,' she 
 said with enthusiasm, ' that you don't get in 
 the singing of the very best professionals.' 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 johjS" maidment 
 
 ' Yes — wrong notes,' said Sir Ludovick, and 
 he chuckled. 
 
 ' Oh, you wicked, wicked old man ! ' cried 
 Lady Charmian, beaming with amusement. 
 ' You must never believe Lud,' she said to 
 John ; ' and you must admire Susan Lul- 
 ham. She is awfully interesting ; she is a 
 spiritualist and all sorts of things ; she has 
 the oddest experiences.' 
 
 ' Is she a medium ? ' asked Jolm. 
 
 ' She is not the happy medium,' said Sir 
 Ludovick, and licked his lips ; and John 
 laughed, for indeed the lady's eyes were turned 
 upon him with a most melancholy interest. 
 But though Mr. Maidment could not help 
 laughing at this very comical old man, he re- 
 minded himself, even while he laughed, that 
 it was in this way that frivolous people spoke 
 of their superiors ; that Sir Ludovick and the
 
 JOHX MAIDMENT 147 
 
 laughing Lady Cliarmian with her white 
 teeth were ahiiost incredibly frivolous. He 
 looked at Mrs. Lulham with an interest 
 which began to respond to her own ; he 
 thought it likely that she was really accom- 
 plished ; he felt almost sure that she had a 
 fine taste. 
 
 L2
 
 148 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 CHAPTEE X. 
 
 When with a great moving of chairs and 
 rusthng of fine raiment, some courteous hesita- 
 tions and deprecating bendings of fair necks, 
 the troop of ladies had sailed out of the great 
 dining-room. Sir Ludovick drew his chair 
 closer to John's, and, with his twinkling old 
 face close to his attentive ear, favoured him 
 with a few notes on the family who were 
 entertaining them so royally. 
 
 ' "Willy Whimley is a dear fellow,' he said ; 
 ' I have known him since he was the height of 
 this decanter — drink this claret before the 
 boys begin to smoke ; it is good — he is a dear
 
 JOHX MAIDMENT 149 
 
 fellow, but a very light weight. Look at him 
 trying to look substantial ; he knows that 
 Eandall has his eye on him and expects him 
 to look solid ; he only looks apologetic. 
 Whimley is always silently apologising for 
 being an earl, and for being able to buy us all 
 up. He could buy me cheap. Do you know 
 his wife well ? No ? She's charming ; she's 
 the laziest woman in England ; she laughs and 
 grows fat, and it is her husband she laughs at. 
 Their boy is sensible, sensible as a cabbage ; 
 he is going round the world — everybody goes 
 round the world nowadays — to improve his 
 mind ; he is getting up the dead meat ques- 
 tion ; he will write about it, when he gets 
 back, in the new Eeview. Lady Gertrude is 
 worth ten of him ; she is a fine creature.' 
 
 He seemed to draw the lady in the air with 
 his long-fingered old hand.
 
 loO JOHX MAIDMEXT 
 
 ' She is very handsome,' said John. 
 
 'But she is too moral,' said Ludovick 
 regretfully. ' I feel as if she were always 
 picturing my death-bed repentance.' 
 
 He chuckled, much dehghted with this 
 fancy. 
 
 ' Ah ! ' he said in a moment ; ' that villain 
 Algy has lit a cigarette ; I can drink no more. 
 You young men are selfish ; you don't drink, 
 and you won't let others drink : you have the 
 blood of fish without their imbibing power. 
 Do you know Algy Garner? He is very 
 modern, very rude ; he plays without grace 
 and races without enjoyment. How he glares 
 at his cigarette ! Something has disagreed 
 with him. He is very hard hit, and he hopes 
 to marry his cousin.' 
 
 ' Lady Gertrude ? ' asked John, with an 
 interest which surprised himself.
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 151 
 
 •^She will have a fine dot,' said Sir 
 Ludovick with three nods. ' The young man 
 is in a tight place ; he bets heavily ; he gets 
 the very best information ; no wonder he's 
 ruined.' 
 
 ' And will she marry him ? ' asked John, 
 feehng a quick rush of his old indignation 
 against his schoolfellow. 
 
 Sir Ludovick raised his shoulders, and 
 looked more than ever like an inspired 
 Punch. 
 
 ' All my life,' he said, ' I have been study- 
 ing women, and I have arrived at one con- 
 clusion, which I will give you for your 
 guidance. Never be sure that a woman will 
 say the unreasonable thing ; never be sure 
 that she Avill do the practical thing ; she is 
 capable of anything to disappoint you.' 
 
 ' Thank you very much,' said John, with a
 
 152 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 smile, which he forced. For some reason he 
 had lost his taste for this old man's plea- 
 santries ; that disapproval of him which he 
 had kept in reserve seemed to be coming up 
 with a rush. 
 
 'There are many aspirants,' said Sir 
 Ludovick in a confidential whisper; 'there 
 is another over there — the man with the fat 
 eyes and sleek beard, next to the Duke — when 
 there is a duke, Smithers Plumley is always 
 next to him. Smithers has the best cook in 
 London, and the worst heart; he is very 
 rich, and is said to be very good-natured ; he 
 has the worst male tongue in London. I am 
 talking of you, Smithers, and giving you a 
 funny character.' 
 
 Mr. Plumley's eyes vanished as he laughed 
 and nodded ; he was afraid of old Sir 
 Ludovick.
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 153 
 
 ' Then there is Eandall,' said Sir Ludovick, 
 turning again to John. ' Many think tliat he 
 will be the lucky man; he pretends to con- 
 sult Lady Gertrude on political affairs ; she is 
 enormously flattered. Eandall is very deep. 
 He began his political career by printing 
 a brilliant satire and making a humorous 
 speech about bishops ; he made people laugh ; 
 it was almost fatal to him. But he saw his 
 error. For years he has been uttering dull 
 excellent speeches, looking wise and quoting 
 statistics ; he is the most rising Conservative 
 of his age ; he has a solid reputation for 
 statesmanship and success. He dare not risk 
 his reputation for success ; he will never ask 
 our fair friend till he is sure she will take 
 him.' 
 
 ' Our fair friend' had not been happy in the 
 drawing-room while the old friend of the family
 
 154 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 had been sketcliing her suitors over his claret. 
 She was annoyed by the Duchess, who indeed 
 had a gift of irritation. This great lady had 
 a face which betrayed no emotion, and this 
 was naturally exasperating to an impulsive 
 girl, who showed every feeling as it passed. 
 She was often called ' the handsome Duchess,' 
 and she certainly had an imposing appear- 
 ance, of which much was due to a high nose, 
 painted eyebrows, thin lips, and the very 
 latest Parisian wigr. If she condemned her 
 neighbours, she seemed to pronounce sen- 
 tence on them from a sense of duty — to have 
 detected with her fine nose an odour dan- 
 gerous to the society of which she was the 
 only genuine guardian. She was an admirable 
 figure-head to a high -class vessel. With this 
 remarkable woman Lady Gertrude was angry. 
 She had heard her say something disagreeable
 
 JOH^^ MAIDMENT 155 
 
 about her cousin Algy. As she herself had 
 but just been quarrelhng with him, she of 
 course defended him with the more warmth ; 
 her warmth had raised a smile on other 
 female faces, and now there was no repose 
 for her until she had made her cousin suffer 
 too. 
 
 As soon as Algy came in with the other 
 men, he looked at her and saw that she was 
 uneasy. She moved this way and that on her 
 sofa ; she was flushed, and fanned herself with 
 unnecessary vigour ; she would not summon 
 him with a look, but she meant him to come 
 to her. He came slowly, and stood looking 
 down at her. 
 
 ' What is it ? ' he asked presently. 
 
 ' She's an odious, vulgar woman,' said Lady 
 Gertrude with a glance at- the most refined of 
 duchesses.
 
 156 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 Algy Garner turned his light eyes on the 
 Duchess, as if he thought of wringing her long 
 neck. 
 
 ' I wish women would keep their tongues 
 quiet,' he said. 
 
 ' I don't know why you say " women," ' 
 she said in an aggrieved tone ; and, as he 
 showed no sign of explaining his speech, ' Of 
 course,' she continued, ' if you mean to class 
 me with the most scandalous and malicious 
 woman in England — Oh, you can't go beyond 
 that ! — you are very kind, I'm sure.' 
 
 'I never said a word about classing you 
 with anybody,' he said ; and he began to bite 
 his under lip. 
 
 'I am sure I don't want to abuse the 
 Duchess ; ' and as she went on she grew more 
 and more plaintive and more and more em- 
 phatic. ' Why should / want to abuse her ?
 
 JOHN MAIDMEJS'T 157 
 
 What harm can she do me ? I shouldn't have 
 thought that you would like to be called a 
 blackleg ' 
 
 'What?' 
 
 The question came like a growl. 
 
 ' Oh, of course she didn't say so in so 
 many words ; she said you were ruined again, 
 and that you couldn't pay your debts, and that 
 you had no business to be going about as if 
 you had a pocket full of money, and — ah ! ' 
 
 She seemed to be stopped by sheer dis- 
 gust, as she twisted her fine shoulders im- 
 patiently and began to fan herself more 
 vehemently than ever. 
 
 * What business is it of hers ? ' said Algy ; 
 and he looked at the Duchess again as if he 
 were on the very point of twisting her finely- 
 dressed head off. Then he seated himself by 
 the side of his cousin, who sat the straighter on
 
 158 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 the sofa, and said, ' It's true, you know ; I told 
 you. I am in a bad place — I told you ; I told 
 you that I must have 500/., and I asked you 
 to get it from my uncle.' 
 
 ' And you want me to ask my father for 
 it,' she said, plaintive still, but more kind. 
 
 ' I shan't get it if you don't,' he said with 
 a short laugh. 
 
 The tribute to her power led her yet 
 further back on the way to amiability. He 
 was looking fixedly at her, and she passed 
 from the thought of her power with her 
 father to the thought of her power with this 
 untamed young man ; she was proud of 
 managing him ; she found herself smiling be- 
 fore she intended. Smihng and still flushed 
 with her late emotions she looked splendidly 
 beautiful. He said to himself again that he 
 did not care a bit (even to himself he used a
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 159 
 
 stronger monosyllable) for racing or gambling, 
 that they might all go to blazes if his beau- 
 tiful cousin would take him — and take him 
 she should. As for the horses, grooms, carts, 
 theatre stalls, dressing cases, and the thousand 
 and one luxuries which grew on him like 
 barnacles, he was ready to curse these encum- 
 brances on young activity. Disgust of these 
 clogging nothings had sent him into the 
 desert before now or to sleep in a torn blanket 
 among the rocks of the Eocky Mountains ; 
 and perhaps the truest pleasure which he had 
 yet enjoyed was the sense of his strength 
 after roughing it with the roughest. Since 
 hunting had stopped, Algy Garner was more 
 than ever sure that there was only one thing 
 in life worth getting, and that was his cousin 
 Gertrude. He was so lost in regarding her 
 tliat he had almost forgotten his unxent need
 
 160 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 of the money, when she said, ' Of course I will 
 get it for you/ 
 
 She spoke with a pout, in which vanished 
 the last element of her grievance ; and, being 
 now in a comfortable mood, she began to 
 sink into a famihar strain of confidential 
 lecturing of this reckless young man, while 
 he sat staring and pulhng his moustache. 
 She was expressing once again her wonder 
 why he was so absurdly extravagant, and 
 what pleasure he could possibly find in griev- 
 ing his best friends, when he suddenly got up 
 and left her. He thought he saw that, while 
 she talked to him, she was looking at John 
 Maidment ; this made him angry, and he was 
 more angry when John instantly crossed the 
 room and took the place which he had left. 
 John was still enchanted with the atmosphere 
 of luxury, the length of the brilliantly lighted
 
 JOHN MAIDMEJS'T 161 
 
 gallery, the deep recesses of the windows full 
 of more grateful shadow. The matter-of- 
 course magnificence was new to him, and it 
 seemed to him that the centre of it all, the 
 jeAvel in the casket of gold, was the daughter 
 of the house. Lady Gertrude on her side 
 liad openly proclaimed her warm interest 
 in this new young man. All her interests 
 were warm ; her heart was warm ; if her 
 temper was sometimes hot, she was generous 
 with her admiration. Not only were her geese 
 swans, but her swans were the very largest 
 and whitest birds that ever curved their 
 necks with pride. John began to talk with 
 brightness and candour of his first experience 
 of political people and his first impressions of 
 society ; and she listened and began to beam, 
 and to refresh herself with tlie conviction 
 til at she had made a friend who was (to use 
 
 VOL. I. M' •
 
 162 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 a favourite expression of her own) ' not just 
 like everybody else.' She was sorry when 
 their talk was interrupted ; but she was a 
 most conscientious hostess, and in presence 
 of her mother's unruffled laziness she felt the 
 full responsibility for everybody present. 
 
 ' Hush ! ' she said ; ' Mrs. Lulham is going 
 to sing. We must go nearer to the piano ; it's 
 wonderful, but not very strong.' 
 
 It was not very strong. Those who were 
 fond of music drew nearer and nearer to the 
 piano, as the lady began to sing. She mur- 
 mured over the keys very pathetically ; in spite 
 of Sir Ludovick's harsh judgment she was 
 almost exactly correct ; she sang with a world 
 of meaning. It was supremely melancholy, 
 and it was immensely admired. John standing 
 close to the end of the piano could not avoid 
 the singer's eyes, sorrowful, inscrutable. They
 
 JOHN MAIDMEXT 163 
 
 made him nervous, and yet he liked the dumb 
 pathetic interest with which they gazed on 
 him. Lady Charmian, who had professed so 
 much admiration for Mrs. Lulham's singing, 
 had ghded away to the furthest end of the 
 long gallery, that she might listen to Sir 
 Ludovick, who crisply stated that the best 
 part of the performance was that it was in- 
 audible at two yards from the instrument. 
 But though there w^ere many who preferred 
 conversation, there were many too who 
 pressed the sweet singer to sing again and 
 again. 
 
 So when the woful German song was 
 done, she sang a little Tuscan verse scented 
 with death and love, and then a Spanish sere- 
 rade in which passion seemed all pain, and 
 at last an English merry-making air, which 
 was most melancholy of all. Lady Charrnian 
 
 M 2
 
 164 JOHN MAIDMEXT 
 
 came back in time to press the singer's hands, 
 and to say with real conviction that there was 
 no such singing in the world. 
 
 ' Dear Del ! ' said Mrs. Lulham for answer 
 very sadly and sweetly, and with her large 
 dull eyes still fixed on John Maidment. 
 She was very unconventional, and did not 
 wait for ceremonious introductions. As her 
 admirers fell away from the piano she came 
 to John. ' I feel as if I had known you in a 
 former state,' she said gravely in a low voice. 
 
 The young man was startled, but he did 
 not lose his charm of manner. He looked 
 very wide-awake in contrast with the lady^s 
 weak dreaminess ; and yet he found himself 
 presently without any purpose of his own 
 seated by Mrs. Lulham in a secluded window- 
 seat. 
 
 ' I have not seen you before in this world,'
 
 JOHN MAIDMEXT 165 
 
 she said, still gazing at liim with a quiet 
 interest. 
 
 ' Not in this world,' answered John, 
 nodding to the people who filled the gallery ; 
 ' I am a new-comer — a raw Oxonian.' He 
 smiled, but she did not. 
 
 ' And I am a rare comer,' she said. ' I 
 live in Naples ; I am always ill in Naples ; I 
 have no lungs ; I live by will. They tell me 
 to live. Who do I mean by they.^ Ah! — 
 You are different. They tell me that you are 
 different. I should like to live to see your 
 future. You are very interesting. Let me 
 read your hand.' 
 
 No sooner had Mrs. Lulham risen from 
 the music-stool than Lady Charmian seated 
 herself briskly at the piano, and dashed 
 impulsively into a waltz tune. She was 
 always eager to please somebody, and on the
 
 166 JOHiS^ MAIDMEXT 
 
 look-out for ' a bit of fun.' ' A bit of fun ' 
 were tlie words most often on her smiling 
 lips. 
 
 At the sound of dance music the daughter 
 of the house, flushed and radiant, turned to a 
 group of the younger men, and appealed to 
 them not without a tone of authority. The 
 more energetic responded, and pushed some 
 of the furniture out of the way, and in a 
 minute a few active couples were whirhng 
 down the long gallery. Delia Charmian 
 laughed aloud and quickened the pace, as 
 Lady Gertrude swept into the dance a 
 light but resolute diplomatist. Lady Ger- 
 trude was in the highest spirits, but in 
 another moment she felt a pang of annoyance. 
 As she swept by one of the windows, she saw 
 in the shaded seat 'Mrs. Lulham and John 
 Maidment ; and she saw too that the lady
 
 JOHN MAIDMEXT 167 
 
 was holding lier companion's hand with her 
 tiny yellow fingers and was gazing gravely 
 on the palm. 
 
 ' A Httle withered monkey ! ' said Lady 
 Gertrude to herself, as she stood panting at 
 the end of the long gallery, and she began to 
 beat the floor with her foot impatiently. 
 
 When Delia Charmian started ' a bit of 
 fun ' it seemed as if it would never end. 
 Having set the dancing going at Boucherett, 
 she very soon gave up her place at the piano 
 to her daughter, who looked no younger than 
 she by candlelight and danced less lightly, 
 and the party became so gay that it was long 
 before the men were left alone. John would 
 have gladly gone to bed, but as all the 
 younger men prepared to smoke, he did not 
 like to be exceptional on this first evening. 
 So he too repaired to that sumptuous Oriental
 
 168 JOHX MAIDMEXT 
 
 apartment which Lord Whimley had fur- 
 nished after the successful journey in the 
 Levant, of which he had printed an account 
 in one elegant octavo vohime for private 
 circuL^tion only. 
 
 Very sumptuous was this Eastern chamber, 
 and rich with warm shaded lights. Against 
 the walls were deep low divans, and above 
 the divans trophies of Damascus blades and 
 Arab guns, curious brasses and tasselled 
 pipes. The floor was tiled like the walls of 
 the mosque of Omar, and thick rich rugs lay 
 on it, and in the middle was a shallow tank 
 where a fountain could be made to play. 
 There were small round tables, each a fine 
 specimen of inlaid work, and the open-work 
 shutters were as the windows of an Egyptian 
 harem. It was very complete. John liked 
 it, thouo'h he cared httle for smoking. He
 
 JOHN MAIDMEXT 169 
 
 sat in a corner with a cigarette in his mouth, 
 and hstened with indifference to the scraps of 
 talk which fell from the lips around him in 
 their moments of leisure. 
 
 Smith ers Plumley was the chief speaker. 
 He sat on the soft divan as if he had been 
 made for it ; he had crossed his fat legs like 
 a Turk ; he was sleek as the favourite cat of 
 the Shah of Persia, and seemed to overflow 
 with loving-kindness. Nevertheless, his words 
 were not agreeable to Mr. Garner, on whom 
 he was smihng most sweetly. 
 
 ' He says that of course you ride hard, but 
 with no judgment.' 
 
 ' That's your opinion, is it ? ' said Algy 
 Garner, chucking the end of his cigar into the 
 fire rather viciously. 
 
 ' My opinion ! My dear chap, you know 
 I only know a horse from a cow because he
 
 170 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 hasn't got horns. I beheve that a horse 
 never has horns. Why do you laugh ? Does 
 he ever have horns? I shall be still more 
 afraid of him if I find he can gore me.' 
 
 Plumley was clearly in the vein. His com- 
 fort was much increased by the absence of 
 old Sir Ludovick, before whose wit the wit 
 of this little fat gentleman kept timidly at 
 home. As his audience laughed at his views 
 of the horse, he smiled on the comfortable 
 world till his eyes were scarcely visible. 
 
 ' Does he think that he can ride ? ' asked 
 Garner with low- voiced scorn. 
 
 ' I rather think he does,' said the otlier, 
 beaminc^ round on the circle with larcre 
 friendliness ; ' I thought that it was generally 
 agreed that Eegy was a fine horseman.' One 
 man nodded, another grunted assent, but 
 Algy said nothing. ' Don't suppose, dear
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 171 
 
 chap, that Eegy was crabbing you,' said 
 Smithers generously ; ' he only said that 
 you were a trifle hard on your horses, and 
 that some mare of which you think a great 
 deal ' 
 
 'Molly? What of her?' 
 
 ' Not much of her,' said Mr. Plumley 
 beaming ; ' he said that you had knocked 
 her to pieces.' 
 
 ' He lied,' said Mr. Garner curtly. 
 
 ' Oh, I only tell you what he said : he said 
 it was a pity to ruin such a good beast.' 
 
 The little gentleman spoke with invincible 
 good humour. 
 
 ' She never was more fit in her life,' said 
 
 Algy. 
 
 ' Eegy is generally considered a good 
 judge,' said Smithers Plumley softly, rolling 
 for himself another cigarette.
 
 172 JOHX MAIDMEXT 
 
 ' You may tell your friend Eegy,' said Algy 
 Garner, ' tliat I will ride Molly against any 
 brute in liis stable over any course lie likes.' 
 
 ' Oil, my dear cliap ! ' cried the other, 
 looking round as if he would appeal to every- 
 body to prevent such madness. 
 
 'I only make one condition,' continued 
 Garner — ' that he will ride his own horse.' 
 
 Smithers regarded him with a smile, 
 which looked kind but was undeniably pro- 
 voking. ' Don't do it,' he said, shaking his 
 sleek head ; and then, as Algy said nothing, 
 he added in a minute, ' Not that it would 
 do any harm to make your offer ! You don't 
 catch Eegy making a match for love.' 
 
 Algy bit his cigar hard and kept his 
 mouth shut ; and it is possible that no more 
 would have been said had not a simple youth 
 uplifted from a corner a voice which had
 
 JOHN iAL\IDMENT 173 
 
 liardly ceased cracking. This boy was strik- 
 ingly suggestive of heavy losses on the turf. 
 His smoking-clothes were redolent of super- 
 fluous money ; his long thin legs looked 
 meaningless until the spectator thought of 
 horses ; his pink innocent face was a standing 
 invitation to the crafty. This youth, whom 
 Nature had formed in a playful mood to drop 
 gold on racecourses, spoke from his corner 
 with a fine knowing air and said — 
 
 ' Algy don't do much either unless the 
 money's on.' 
 
 ' You amaze me,' said Smith ers Plumley, 
 beaming on the boy. ' I thought that Algy 
 was reformed — or broke — or somethine^. He 
 has promised to be a good boy, and never, 
 never, never to bet any more.' Here he 
 looked attain at Mr. Garner and wafyored his 
 head playfully at him.
 
 174 JOHISr MAIDMENT 
 
 'I'll back myself for ^ve hundred,' said 
 Algy, who looked dangerously white. 
 
 'Oh, you bad boy! Stop him, some- 
 body!' 
 
 ' You need not be afraid for your friend,' 
 said Algy venomously : ' I happen to have 
 the money, or shall have it to-morrow ; I'll 
 put it in your hands, if you like.' With a 
 look of undisguised distaste at Mr. Plumley's 
 hands, which were dimpled like a baby's, he 
 chucked the end of his cigar into the fire- 
 place and went out.
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 175 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 The first day of the Boucherett party was 
 pronounced by Lady Gertrude to be little 
 better than a failure. She had planned an 
 expedition to the ruin, which all visitors were 
 bound to see ; and since she was never con- 
 tent with making a plan but must settle all 
 the details too, and since no people either can 
 or will do exactly what they are meant to do, 
 it was no uncommon declaration of Lady 
 Gertrude that nothing ever went right. The 
 truth is that the plans of this magnificent 
 young lady suffered from over-elaboration, 
 and that many people were sick of her expe-
 
 176 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 ditions or entertainments before they began. 
 So on this occasion some of the guests had 
 begged not to be taken ; others had asked to 
 QO in the wrong carriage ; and Sir Ludovick 
 had been most annoying of all, for he had 
 talked of nothing but the picnic, and ' picnic ' 
 was a word which always displeased her. 
 She coidd not bear to think of herself as 
 o-etting up picnics. Nor had her parents con- 
 tented her. She liked them to leave all 
 arrangements to her, but to seem not to leave 
 them ; and it was aggravating that her mother 
 would sit in her favourite chair smiling and 
 showing in every curve how much better it 
 was to repose than to go flying about the 
 country in a string of vehicles. As for the 
 Earl of Whimley and Boucherett, that influen- 
 tial person had waited in the obscurity of his 
 farther mushroom-house until the coast was
 
 JOHN MAIDMEXT 177 
 
 clear and he might shp back in safety to his 
 turning-lathe — and so he had played his part 
 not at all to the satisfaction of his daiio^hter, 
 who suspected his hiding-place and could not 
 smile at the mental picture. So Lady Ger- 
 trude's day had begun with vexation, and she 
 had fretted and sighed, and had found her 
 only consolation in condemning herself to the 
 most disagreeable place in the carriage which 
 she most disliked. She had seated herself by 
 the side of the Duchess in the barouche, and 
 liad bidden Smithers Plumley, who had a taste 
 for ducliesses, to amuse them from the oppo- 
 site seat. 
 
 Smithers Flumley had much tact, and quick 
 sympathy with feminine moo.ds. As the car- 
 riage rolled solemnly along the country road, 
 he devoted himself to the amusement of the 
 Duchess ; while Lady Gertrude, under the sooth- 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 178 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 ing influence of silence and smooth motion, 
 recovered a fair amount of placidity. Smithers 
 was just scandalous and malicious enough to 
 amuse the Duchess without offending the 
 young lady, while his appearance of gaiety 
 and good-living seemed to vouch for his es- 
 sential good-nature. It was almost impossible 
 to think that this well-fed jolly gentleman 
 ever intended to hurt anybody. The Duchess 
 was so well amused that she almost forgot 
 to make the one or two ill-natured speeches 
 which she had thought of in bed as likely to 
 wound the daughter of the house ; and the 
 party had almost reached their destination 
 before she brought the little speeches out. and 
 then rather jerkily. They referred to Algy 
 Garner, and were addressed to Mr. Plumley ; 
 and, though the Duchess could extract nothing 
 but deprecating looks from that cautious
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 179 
 
 gentleman, she had the satisfaction of feeling 
 Lady Gertrude leap in her place and turn 
 sharply away. 
 
 Then, when they had arrived at their 
 ruins and had left their carriage, Mr. 
 Plumley seized his opportunity and showed 
 ^viih the utmost delicacy how little he 
 sympathised with the Duchess's tone about 
 Algy Garner. He was so sorry for Algy, 
 who was such a nice fellow ; he seemed to 
 take for granted her cousinly interest in the 
 reckless young man ; he regretted deeply 
 his perversity in getting into scrapes ; and, 
 softly following this train of thought, he 
 let slip something of Algy's bet in the 
 smoking-room on the night just past. Lady 
 Gertrude with sudden passion demanded 
 details, and Avhen she heard the amount she 
 was hurt and angry indeed. The very sum 
 
 N 2
 
 180 JOHJN" MAIDMEXT 
 
 which she was to get for him he was pledged 
 to throAv aAvay before he held it. He was 
 incurable ; he was one of her failures. Life 
 was full of failures, and this miserable 
 picnic was another of them. Even the 
 excellent luncheon and the contentment of 
 her guests, the trees all powdered with fresh 
 green of the spring, the calm of the distant 
 river, the delicate grass below and the 
 feathery white clouds high up in the blue — 
 even all these good things failed to soothe 
 the troubled spirit of Lady Gertrude Book- 
 ham. Trifles irritated her. She was annoyed 
 by the Duchess's method of shding food be- 
 tween her tiny scarcely-parted lips ; she was 
 annoyed by the hearty laughter of Lady Char- 
 mian, who laughed till she cried at nothing. 
 She was even annoyed by the attentiors of 
 Mr. Eandall, in whose talk she generally
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 181 
 
 felt sure of being interested. Now she 
 tacitly accused him of heaviness, and her 
 plenteous generosity and hospitality were 
 offended by his rigid abstinence. Mr. Ean- 
 dall had a tendency to fat, against which 
 he seemed to be ever contending. He 
 walked with excessive vigour and deter- 
 mination, and there was a perceptible strain 
 on the buttons of all his coats. At this 
 luncheon in the open air, which was not to 
 be a picnic, he offended the lady whom he 
 was anxious to please by a cold-blooded 
 refusal of the choicest viands. She Avas 
 vexed with him and showed it ; and she 
 said to herself, not for the first time, that 
 he looked too like a vigorous and trustworthy 
 railway guard. Though there is no type 
 more likely to gain the confidence of the 
 intelhgent public. Lady Gertrude held that
 
 182 JOHN MAJDMENT 
 
 it was inconsistent witli the liigher statesman- 
 ship. She, hke almost all his friends, had 
 forgotten those early flashes of indiscretion 
 which the ambitious politician had been 
 teaching the nation to forget. Everything 
 went wrong ; nobody behaved as he or 
 she ought. Luncheon was half over when 
 Mrs. Lulham came strolhng from the neigh- 
 bouring grove with John Maidment by her 
 side. 
 
 * The luncheon is nearly finished,' said 
 Lady Gertrude in her aggrieved tone. 
 
 ' I never eat,' said Mrs. Lulham quietly. 
 
 John looked at Lady Gertrude, but she 
 ignored his looks. He had come from the 
 wood with his heart full of pleasure ; he had 
 been conversing with one whom he found 
 the cleverest of women ; he was flushed with 
 the most delicate flatteries.
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 183 
 
 Perhaps Lady Gertrude saw in liim some 
 trace of a vanqiiisliing air. When he spoke 
 to her with a happy friendliness, she answered 
 shortly, and, as she turned to Mr. Eandall 
 with a string of unimportant questions, slie 
 moved just so far that John Maidment could 
 find no place by her side. John felt himself 
 snubbed, and was very angry. As he stood 
 irresolute, he caught the twinkhng eye of 
 Smithers Plumley and was more angry. 
 Lady Gertrude's manner was like a shower- 
 bath to his sensitive nerves : he hated it, and 
 he hated her for the moment. This was that 
 aristocratic insolence of which he had heard ; 
 these were the manners of the barbarian 
 class. On the way home his thoughts ran the 
 same way. He told himself that he had 
 enjoyed a most useful experience ; but he 
 did not enjoy it much. He told himself that
 
 184 JOHN MAIDME^s'T 
 
 he was following a most useful train of 
 thought. It is only centuries of insolence, he 
 thought, which could produce this perfect 
 flower. This girl treated him like an inferior 
 being ; he would like to show her which was 
 the better, he or she. He would show her 
 some day. Changes were coming, and coming 
 quickly ; and these people were too dull to 
 see them. This excessive and enervating 
 luxury was founded on the possession of land 
 by the few ; that at least was doomed, and 
 with it would vanish this hereditary insolence 
 of a landed class. What was this girl that 
 she should think herself better than he ? 
 HoAV absurd that she should think lierself his 
 equal I She would know better some day. 
 Even he, whom she fancied she could snub 
 with impunity, would be compelled to lend a 
 hand to the destruction of that old state of
 
 JOHN MAIDMEXT 185 
 
 tilings which alone made possible the exist- 
 ence of such an arrosfant maiden. 
 
 It was not long before John Maidment had 
 recovered his amiability. He passed from in- 
 dignation to pity. If Lady Gertrude knew as 
 much as he knew, she would be more careful 
 how she treated him. They were all stupid, 
 these people who fancied that the world was 
 made for them. The world was made for him 
 who knew how to make the world. John 
 came down to dinner, feeling that the fate of 
 thirty or forty guests collected in the stately 
 house of Boucherett was in his hands. If 
 they did not make him their friend, it would 
 be the worse for them. He went in to dinner, 
 unruffled and with self-respect restored ; and 
 the ceremony of dinner, with its easy splen- 
 dour and its distant music, soothed him more 
 and more, until again he took a genial, if
 
 186 JOHA" MAIDMENT 
 
 somewhat contemptuous, view of the worthy 
 folk around him. Let them have their hour, 
 he thought, and I — I too will enjoy it. 
 
 Later in the same evening, when Mrs. 
 Lulham had uttered her faint expressive notes 
 and some were playing cards and some were 
 talking, John wandered into a room which 
 opened out of the gallery, and saw before him 
 the entrance to an inner shrine wherefrom 
 a richer light was pouring. Across the 
 entrance a heavy curtain was half drawn, and 
 with the lio^ht and frasrrance of hot-house 
 flowers the sound of a voice came also. Lady 
 Gertrude was speaking, and speaking in her 
 most plaintive tone ; but suddenly the even 
 flow of her complaint was cliecked, and 
 checked most rudely. 
 
 ' And this is why,' said the voice of Mr. 
 Garner, full of compressed fierceness — ' this
 
 JOHN MAIDMEXT 187 
 
 IS why you've kept me hanging about you 
 
 like an infernal Ah ! I'm sick of it ; I'm 
 
 sick of getting nothing but sermons.' 
 
 There was a pause before the word 
 ' sermons,' in which John imagined a strong 
 epithet swallowed with difficulty. He had 
 not time to move before Garner came out, 
 and passing him without a word or sign went 
 through a side door, which he left shaking 
 behind him. John turned to go back to the 
 gallery, but stopped. He felt a strong im- 
 pulse to look at the girL He remembered 
 that she had snubbed him ; he would like to 
 see if she would snub him again ; he was not 
 afraid of her ; he should see at a glance if he 
 were intruding, and could retire in a moment. 
 In a moment he had passed the curtain and 
 was in the room. 
 
 The Duchess was fond of saying that Lady
 
 188 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 Gertrude did not know liow to dress herself, 
 and that she wore clothes which were not 
 suitable for a girl. It is certain that this girl 
 loved sumptuous raiment and to adorn herself 
 with jewels. In the soft light of the httle 
 room, she herself was rich and lustrous as a 
 jewel in a shrine. There was a flush on her 
 cheek, and her dark eyes were soft and 
 pleading. There was a sparkle of gems at her 
 round white throat, and of tears on her long 
 lashes. As she looked up from the low couch 
 and saw John in the doorway, the flush 
 deepened and she drew her hand indignant 
 across her eyes. The young man moved as if 
 he meant to go. 
 
 ' Don't go,' she said quickly. 
 
 He came in, and sank down on the 
 seat by her side. He seemed to taste the 
 fragrance of a splendid tropical flower. He
 
 JOH]^ MAIDMENT 189 
 
 had drunk more wine, and richer, than he 
 had known in his ascetic boyhood ; he had 
 yiekled himself to the enjoyment of languish- 
 ing music ; he was in a mood for most deli- 
 cate delight. After a silence of a few minutes, 
 she spoke again with lips which were still 
 tremulous. 
 
 ' You mustn't think,' she said — ' I don't 
 want you to think for a moment — It's 
 nothing, nothing at all. I am very much 
 annoyed ; that's all. He's my cousin, and one 
 of my oldest friends. You won't think that, 
 because I am such a fool as to cry — will 
 you?' 
 
 It was perhaps a little incoherent, but 
 John understood her and knew that he could 
 answer better by looks than by speech. As 
 she turned impulsively to him with her 
 final question, her beautiful arm touched him,
 
 190 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 and thrilled him with a new feeling. All her 
 pride seemed to have gone. Her great eyes, 
 yet dim with tears, seemed to ask his sym- 
 pathy. His voice sounded to himself low and 
 eloquent as he assured her that he under- 
 stood her meanincf. 
 
 o 
 
 ' I can't think how a man can be so silly,' 
 she said ; and he waited to hear more. ' Just 
 fancy I ' she said with increasing emphasis. 
 ' Can you imagine such a thing ? He bor- 
 rowed some money to pay bills, which ought 
 to have been paid long ago, and went 
 directly — directly — and put it all on some 
 horse.' 
 
 Her voice rose gradually from a low tone 
 of regret to high complaint. John felt a 
 quick increase of interest. 
 
 ' Who told you about his backing the 
 horse? ' he asked.
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 191 
 
 ' Mr. Plumley told me. He was very 
 sorry about it. He is so funny that one does 
 not expect liim to feel things ; but even he 
 was sorry about that.' 
 
 ' It was five hundred pounds ? ' 
 
 'Yes.' 
 
 ' It was Plumley who made him do it,' 
 cried John with sudden anger. For the 
 moment he was possessed wholly by a quick 
 rush of virtuous indignation ; there was no 
 room in him for anything but measureless 
 disgust at the mean conduct of this unctuous 
 Plumley ; his voice quivered with emotion as 
 he told her of the talk in the smoking-room. 
 As he spoke, he saw how good it was to open 
 the girl's eyes to the character of this wealthy 
 admirer, who with dishonesty had been 
 opening her eyes to the weakness of another. 
 It was not right that this splendid being
 
 192 JOHX MAIDMEXT 
 
 should marry either of tliese men ; she was as 
 much too good for a sly millionaire as for an 
 ill-tempered spendthrift. He would save her 
 from both these rivals ; it was his clear duty ; 
 it was absorbing ; it was politic. Lady 
 Gertrude's eyes were fixed upon his face, 
 which glowed with righteous indignation. 
 She admired him and his right anger ; she 
 interrupted him with exclamations of horror ; 
 when he had finished she thanked him 
 warmly. 
 
 ' I always knew of course that he was 
 horrid,' she said, ' and sly, and scandalous ; 
 but I did not think that any man could be 
 so mean. It's like a woman.' 
 
 ' Don't say that,' said John softly ; ' I 
 have such a high ideal of woman.' 
 
 ' I sometimes think that one is a fool 
 to have any ideals. This is too shocking.
 
 JOHX MAIDMENT 193 
 
 That there should be two men staying here, 
 in this house, two gentlemen and friends 
 of ours, and that one should be so pitifully 
 weak and the other so wicked ! ' Her 
 voice was full of sharp complaint, but it 
 sank again to its deep pathetic tone. ' How 
 can one have any ideals ? ' she asked. 
 
 ' We must not give up high aims be- 
 cause others are unworthy,' said John softly, 
 and he found a pleasure in the use of the 
 word ' We ' 
 
 There Avas a pause, and then she said 
 with a smile beginning to come, ' How 
 strange that I should discuss these things 
 with you ! ' 
 
 ' It's very pleasant for me ; I feel as if 
 you treated me as a friend.' 
 
 ' That's what I like,' she said with in- 
 tense conviction ; ' I like to make friends.' 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 194 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 ' If you will tell me anything at any 
 time, and if I can ever do anything for 
 you — — ' He stopped, and looked at her with 
 devotion. Her dark eyes fell before his, and 
 she did not speak for a minute. ' Can't we 
 shake hands on our friendship ? ' he said 
 with an awkward laugh ; and he raised her 
 soft warm hand in his.
 
 JOHX MAIDMENT 195 
 
 CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 When John Maidment and Lady Ger- 
 trude had shaken hands on their friendship, 
 they began to morahse. Lady Gertrude 
 was very fond of morahsing. They dis- 
 cussed the high aims of hfe ; they found 
 many points of sympathy. Indeed, though 
 Lady Gertrude would have been offended 
 by any doubt of her complete Toryism, 
 which was a matter of course in a member 
 of her family, her warm heart was often 
 aglow with some scheme as revolutionary 
 as philanthropic. She was not rigidly, pro- 
 saically consistent. She was almost as full 
 
 2
 
 196 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 as John of the desire to help her fellow - 
 creatures, and she had made many more 
 practical endeavours to help them. It must 
 be confessed that she was charitable un- 
 comfortably, fretting and sighing, but 
 generous withal. When an old man in the 
 village broke his leg, she took it as a per- 
 sonal grievance. She expected a great deal 
 from her poor friends, though she was 
 given to declare with vehemence that she 
 expected nothing from so bad a world. 
 When people disappointed her, she was 
 fretful over their shortcomings. If they told 
 her rudely that she herself was not perfect, she 
 was in a hurry to confess it. She confessed 
 with emphasis and passion, and always felt 
 the better for her confession. She thought of 
 herself as distinguished by high ideals and 
 of course falling short. Tlius she soothed
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 197 
 
 her conscience ; and she soothed it, too, by 
 being fretful over her neighbours' offences, 
 by deploring tlie wickedness of an idle 
 world, which she had no wish to abjure. 
 She felt a warm interest in John ; as she sat 
 in that quiet corner and hstened to his facile 
 speech, she declared to herself again that 
 she had never met so interesting a young 
 man. Her generous admiration led him 
 easily from the discussion of general propo- 
 sitions about hfe to the more absorbing 
 subject, himself. But, though he felt the 
 temptation to be most eloquent on himself 
 and on his hopes of the future, he restrained 
 the topic within due bounds, and so pleased 
 her the more. He did not talk too much 
 about himself; he spoke more and with 
 finer feeling about those who had come 
 nearest to him in life.
 
 198 JOHX MAIDME^^T 
 
 It seemed to the girl, as she listened, that 
 he had lived in a romantic air. This delighted 
 her, and made her look at him with quickly 
 growing interest ; for she had said to herself a 
 thousand times that in modern life there was 
 no romance. She had seen her friends make 
 excellent marriages with men for whom they 
 did not care a jot, and she had sniffed scorn- 
 fully at their easy acquiescence and the cheap 
 sentimentahsms of the mothers who had 
 arranged the affairs. She had fretted over 
 the commercial maxims of young men, the 
 routine of laborious amusement, the inade- 
 quacy of prosaic life. Now, as she listened to 
 this brilliant and eloquent youth, she thought 
 that he had been born and bred in a world 
 where everybody was exceptional. She en- 
 j oy ed a vision of his wild and graceful father, 
 who had exchanged a brilliant society, where
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 199 
 
 none shone with snch lustre, for the pure 
 exciting air, the free hfe, and the silver dreams 
 of Colorado. Any day he might strike his 
 pickaxe on the sterile ground, and be richer 
 than the Caliph of Bagdad or Croesus king 
 of Lydia. Born in a family where wealth 
 w^as a matter of course, Lady Gertrude 
 thought that she despised money; but silver 
 asleep in the mountain till the prospecting 
 prince should come made her eyes brighter 
 and her red lips open in wonder. And there 
 w^ere other figures, too, who made a most 
 heroic appearance in John's tale. This huge 
 and simple guardian, of whom the young man 
 spoke with an engaging mixture of patronage 
 and tenderness, seemed to the girl like a 
 gigantic Norseman, with eyes like wintry blue 
 and beard like the yellow corn. She could 
 imagine the grand simple faith of such an one
 
 200 JOHN MAIDMEXT 
 
 in this brilliant youth, whom it was his 
 privilege to start in life. And as John spoke 
 of tlie friend who had been his comrade at 
 school and in holidays, the girl began to 
 think of Jonathan and David, of the greatness 
 and beauty of friendship. She was under a 
 charm. Why, she asked herself, should not 
 a woman be a man's friend, and the best of 
 all possible friends? John said nothing of 
 Letty, who had been his good friend too. 
 
 John talked charmingly, and found the 
 richest pleasure in talldng to this lovely 
 lady in this sumptuous place. The place 
 and the hour, the easy winning of a friend 
 so rare, the delightful confidence, the glow 
 of a new life affected him like wine. His 
 words came warm to his lips, and only 
 stammered Avhen his eyes met hers. The 
 girl was delighted. Had she not suddenly
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 201 
 
 remembered the cold glances of the Duchess, 
 she might have sat in a corner with this 
 picturesque talker so long that her cool 
 judgment would have disapproved. 
 
 John, before he slept that night, allowed 
 himself to play with the pretty notion that 
 perhaps after all a state of society, which 
 was to be on its trial, would find its best 
 excuse in that it made possible a splendid 
 flower of girlhood. 
 
 John slept well, and woke to wonder if 
 any particular thing had made him so happy. 
 He pulled up his bhnd and opened his window 
 wide, that lying in bed he might look across 
 the spacious courtyard and see beyond the 
 great florid iron gates the wide park stretch 
 away hke a green county under the spring- 
 tide blue. His heart grew great, and he 
 laughed with a sense of expansion. Then
 
 202 JOHJS- MAIDMENT 
 
 he thought with a sigh that people would 
 feel a keen regret when such princely places 
 were no longer possible. His mind was very 
 active. After all, why should they not be 
 possible ? If the profits which the world 
 affords are unfairly divided, perhaps it was 
 not the landlords who got too much, but 
 rather the manufacturers and merchants. 
 And these merchants and manufacturers did 
 not enrich their fellows by making such things 
 of beauty as Boucherett, but only overloaded 
 the groaning earth with new monuments of 
 ugliness and ostentation. Perhaps the first 
 action of the reformer should be to defy the 
 musty precepts of the political economist 
 and to ensure fair wages for the workman. 
 Perhaps the landlords might be taught to 
 help the workmen against the capitalists 
 and so gain for themselves a new period of
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 203 
 
 dignified and noble life. Schemes came to 
 the quick-thinking youth as he lay in bed, 
 schemes of decent dwellings for the poor of 
 the towns, of healthy amusement, of open 
 spaces and pure water. Let the landed folk 
 admit the virtue of trades' unions, and let 
 the trades' unions accept the friendship of 
 the landlords, and the vulgar capitalist 
 would have to be content with less profit. 
 The friendship of a new and wise nobility 
 with a free and enhghtened people was a 
 captivating idea. John broke short his chain 
 of idle fancies with a laugh. He found that 
 he was thinking the thoughts of a new sort of 
 Tory ; he remembered that he was a 'daring 
 Eadical. Well, after all, no man should bind 
 himself at the outset of life in the complete 
 buckram of a party creed. It was a morning 
 w^hich suggested an open mind. John was
 
 204 JOHX MAIDMEXT 
 
 delighted with his quick thoughts, his clear 
 quick visions. It could not be said of him, 
 he felt, that he could take but one point of 
 view. Who could better venture to let his 
 lively mind play round a subject, for who was 
 surer than he of a solid foundation of sound 
 pubhc morality ? 
 
 There came a tap at the door, and John's 
 pleasant musing was presently changed to 
 annoyance. The servant to whose care he 
 had been assigned stood by his bed-side with 
 a telegram. John tore it open, and in a 
 moment his face was full of vexation. He 
 would send no answer, and, as soon as the 
 man had gone, he jumped out of bed and 
 spread the offending telegram flat on the httle 
 writing-table. It was from Colonel Brent, 
 and was very short. ' Come home, if you 
 can,' the Colonel had written, and no more.
 
 JOHJ^ MAIDMENT 205 
 
 John was made angry by this characteristic 
 brevity. He declared that it left him no 
 choice. Of course he could go to Brentholme. 
 It was absurd of Colonel Brent to give him 
 no reason ; it was treating him, a member 
 of Parhament, a man to whom the guests of 
 Boucherett showed much consideration, as if 
 he were a child incapable of rational choice. 
 While he washed and dressed himself, he was 
 inclined for each alternate minute to write for 
 further information and meanwhile to wait 
 where he was. However, he was sure that 
 the right thing was to go at once, and that he 
 would do the right thing. He always did the 
 right thing. 
 
 When he announced after breakfast that 
 he had been summoned by telegram, he 
 looked straight at the eyes of Lady Gertrude, 
 and he felt a thrill of pleasure as he read in
 
 206 JOHIS" MAIDMENT 
 
 tliem an annoyance equal to his own. It 
 would liave been more flattering to him if she 
 had tried to hide her feeling ; but her voice 
 touched its highest point of fretfulness as 
 she declared that something always happened 
 to spoil her party. She was plaintive ; she 
 thought herself for the thousandth time the 
 sport of a capricious destiny. She sighed as 
 she poured out a cup of tea for a late comer ; 
 she snubbed her father, who was curious 
 about one of the day's details, which she had 
 settled twelve hours ago, and she told him 
 not to fuss. 
 
 'The brougham will take you to the 
 ,station,' she said to John, as if broughams 
 and stations had been created ahke for her 
 pecuhar annoyance. She sighed as she told 
 him the time of his train, as if it were started
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 207 
 
 at the one minute of all the day which was 
 most inconvenient for her. 
 
 The last thing which John saw as he was 
 carried away was Lady Gertrude's face, still 
 eloquent of the certainty that the world was 
 arranged for her particular disappointment.
 
 208 JOHN MAIDMEXT 
 
 CHAPTEE Xin 
 
 To" John Maidment's eyes the chalk slopes of 
 Brentholme looked bare, the hall chilly, and 
 the morning-room, into which he strode, 
 threadbare and faded. The Colonel's man, 
 who had grown old in the service of the 
 family, went slowly in search of his master, 
 and it was not long before the Colonel 
 appeared. Indeed, he had a strange tale to 
 tell, and, since it seemed to his own discredit, 
 he would lose no time in the telling. He told 
 it boldly and barely. He said that he had 
 lost a great deal of money, or at least so 
 much that it was a heavy loss for him.
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 209 
 
 ' I made a foolish investment,' he said, ' in 
 something American ; and as I shall have to 
 give back a great part of my rents of this 
 year, I must spend less for a time.' He be- 
 came very gruff, and seemed to draw up his 
 words from his very boots, as he said that he 
 should try to let the place for a few years. 
 The statement seemed to stick in his throat. 
 ' The boys must leave school for a year or 
 more,' he added, ' and try a tutor.' He 
 smiled grimly, thinking perhaps that Jacky, 
 Teddy, and Dicky were well made for the 
 trial of tutors ; but there was no answerincr 
 gleam of a smile in John Maidment's eyes. 
 John was waiting with ill-disguised impatience 
 till the statement of plans should touch his 
 own career. ' Paul,' continued the Colonel, 
 ' will decide for himself. Perhaps he will 
 stay in America for a while. He has found 
 
 VOL. I. p
 
 210 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 a friend wlio wants him to join him in cattle- 
 breeding. He has, as you know, a httle 
 money, which came to him from his aunt 
 Susan. He knows that I have been losing 
 money ; he will soon know how much.' 
 
 ' Then you told Paul.' John's sense of 
 injury fastened on this fact. ' I wish you 
 had told me,' he added almost in the same 
 breath, 
 
 ' I hoped not to tell you at all,' said the 
 Colonel after a minute, while only the flush 
 on his fair skin showed the pain which he 
 felt. ' Things might have taken a better 
 turn. Can you do with a hundred a year 
 less — for this year at least ? ' 
 
 What internal convulsions had preceded 
 this curt cold question, nobody in the world 
 would have guessed. John had no concep- 
 tion of the sufferings of this great healthy
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 211 
 
 man, who expressed himself with so much 
 difficulty. He was aggrieved, and did not 
 care to hide it. 
 
 ' Of course I must do with it,' he said. 
 His thoughts came and went fast. He had been 
 kept in the dark most foolishly ; the Colonel 
 should have asked his advice long ago ; the 
 Colonel had been extraordinarily foolish. He 
 thought that Mr. Randall would have con- 
 sidered his advice worth the trouble of ask- 
 ing, and with that thought his quick mind 
 was back at Boucherett. He had a vision of 
 a life where no trumpery hampering con- 
 siderations of expenditure need be. If he 
 
 were not to some extent bound Was he 
 
 bound ? He was obliged to come back to 
 the present moment, for there was his 
 guardian standing solid and silent before him 
 with his chin pushed upward and outward. 
 
 p2
 
 212 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 ' Of course,' said John again, ' I must do 
 with less money ; I have no claim ; it is for 
 you to decide. I only wish that you had 
 told me, that you had given me the chance of 
 being of some help, however small. I wish I 
 had known.' 
 
 Colonel Brent opened his mouth as if he 
 would speak, but he shut it again and slowly 
 went out of the room. He went to look for 
 his daughter. Letty was sitting on a gate; 
 she looked unusually meditative ; she had 
 been regarding the familiar fields and trees 
 through tears which came unbidden with the 
 thought of leaving Brentholme even for a 
 single year. She felt an unreasonable dislike 
 of the people who would take ^ the place: 
 there might even be a girl who would dare 
 to have her favourite views and favourite 
 corners ; the idea was insupportable ; she was
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 213 
 
 sure tliMt the girl was horrid. Neverthe- 
 less she looked up at her father with a smile. 
 She was very sorry for him ; she was sure 
 that somewhere under his great silence and 
 his stoical face there was deep sorrow. 
 
 ' John is in my study,' he said looking 
 over her head. 
 
 It was not much which he said, but the 
 girl was in the habit of finding a great deal 
 in her father's curt sentences. She read in 
 this one that John was out of spirits and that 
 she was to go to him, and she read in it too 
 with a throb of the heart that it was recog- 
 nised that she was the person whose duty and 
 right it was to comfort this young man of 
 genius. She descended from her gate with 
 a new gravity in her face, and she stood 
 a-tiptoe to kiss her mighty father before she 
 went slowly towards the house.
 
 214 JOHN MAIDxMENT 
 
 Letty had not reached the house before 
 she met John walking quickly and speaking 
 even more quickly to himself. She could see 
 his lips moving before he saw her, and the 
 sight roused a little opposition in her, which 
 made her hesitate. John Maidment was a 
 wonderful creature, so clever and so hand- 
 some ; she had always admired him so much ; 
 it ought to be such a privilege to help and 
 console him. He looked the hero of romance, 
 but for some imlucky reason on that morning 
 she could not feel romantic. And yet it was 
 determined : she was the being who was to be 
 dedicated to the consolation of this youth — 
 had she not dedicated herself? She tried to 
 feel the full dignity of her mission — how 
 great a thing it was that he should care for 
 her. If only some one of her young brothers 
 had been near to criticise John, she would
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 215 
 
 have found in his defence the necessary 
 warmth ; she would have met him then with 
 a glow of loyalty. As it was, she was half 
 inchned to run away. 
 
 John Maidment, who was not thinking 
 about the girl's thoughts, had hardly pressed 
 her hands in his before he began those 
 criticisms of the Colonel with which he was 
 overflowing. He told the girl too often that 
 the lessening of his allowance was nothing, 
 that it was not that which hurt him. Letty 
 grew colder and colder, and as silent as her 
 father. 
 
 ' I'm not greedy,' said John ; ' I think I 
 may say that. Of course it is extremely 
 hard to live in London and do the various 
 duties, which a member of Parliament is 
 bound to do, on so httle ; but that is nothing ; 
 I make no complaint of that.'
 
 216 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 ' Of course not,' she said with difficulty. 
 
 ' Although it will be very inconvenient — 
 there is no good in attempting to say that it 
 won't be very inconvenient.' 
 
 ' It's harder for my father ! ' she said 
 more clearly. 
 
 ' Of course it is harder for him, but why 
 didn't he consult me ? Why did he keep 
 me in the dark ? It is that which I can't 
 get over. He must have been speculating so 
 foolishly — even now he tells me no par- 
 ticulars — it's treating me like a child. Of 
 course it's hard for him, but what has he 
 done with it ? ' 
 
 ' You ought not to ask,' she said sharply, 
 and with a little nod of her head. 
 
 ' Don't be absurd ! ' he said angrily. 
 
 ' Thank you.' She stood a moment 
 looking at him, and then with her little head
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 217 
 
 in air she walked into the house, and having 
 passed beyond his sight ran upstairs, ahnost 
 stumbhng in her haste, that she might lock 
 herself into her room before the tears came 
 flowing. It was thus that she executed her 
 mission of consolation. 
 
 For the remaining hours of that lagging 
 day there was little ease for the small party 
 gathered at Brentholme. They avoided each 
 other, and, if there was no quarrelling, 
 there was very little talk ; and so at last 
 bed-time came and silence was no longer 
 awkward. 
 
 The next morning Letty woke full of 
 happiness and wondered why. Beyond the 
 dimity curtains with their faded well-washed 
 rosebuds, she felt the freshness of the dewy 
 morning and heard the tumultuous babble of 
 the thronging birds. But these delightful
 
 218 JOHN MAIDMEiVT 
 
 trifles of the day were only charms of the old 
 place which she was to leave ; they should 
 have made her sad. And a doubt would 
 come and come again whether she had been 
 kind and patient enough. She felt that she 
 ought to be sad ; she sighed conscientiously, 
 but her spirits would not be denied. Out in 
 the air she grew happier and happier ; she 
 was bound to nothing ; she was free. She 
 was filled with the ecstasy of freedom ; it 
 seemed wrong ; it was not what she had 
 meant to feel ; and so at last a great sob sur- 
 prised her, and she began to cry. 
 
 A little later John Maidment was flying to 
 London and thinking, whether he would or 
 no, of money. He had never fully reahsed 
 the importance of money. He perceived that 
 he ought to think about it. He wondered if 
 Lady Gertrude would have much. Suddenly
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 219 
 
 lie was shocked — where were his thoughts 
 going to ? He had a vision of Letty — what 
 would she think of his mind being busy with 
 money? His conscience had sprung up un- 
 easy ; he attacked it with fury, with a pas- 
 sionate declaration that he had been treated 
 infamously. If he were thinking of money, 
 is it not absolutely necessary for the indepen- 
 dence of the modern politician ? He only 
 wanted money that he might work, as nature 
 meant him to work, effectively for the public 
 good : he was sure that he was right to want 
 it ; he need not fear that he would ever yield 
 to any temptation to gain it by unworthy 
 means. How quick his conscience was to 
 take alarm ! He had been ready to blame 
 himself for thoughts which a moment's con- 
 sideration showed to be most sensible. But 
 he was glad that his conscience was so sensi-
 
 220 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 tive. He could go forward without fear, for 
 his conscience would not let him stray an 
 inch from the path of duty. What a safe- 
 guard was that !
 
 Ill
 
 223 
 
 CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 The first year of John Maidment's Parlia- 
 mentary life was uneventful. There was a 
 great deal of talk and very little law-making ; 
 and though the young orator cared little for 
 the Bills which had to be abandoned, he was 
 much disappointed by the quahty of the talk. 
 It seemed to him that the most loquacious 
 members, if they spoke less pompously th^n 
 his old friends at the Union, spoke less 
 fluently also. They had the air of hesitating, 
 as if the matter of their remarks was so im- 
 portant that a wrong word would be fatal, 
 and yet with all their hesitations and repeti-
 
 224 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 tions it was not generally a very valuable 
 thought wliicli finally struggled to the hght. 
 John sometimes thought with a thrill that 
 when he unlocked his lips he would treat 
 this audience to something better ; but then 
 always followed the chilling doubt whether 
 those who liked this spasmodic method 
 would have the good taste to admire his 
 richer eloquence. Sometimes, as he sat 
 dreary on a dull night in the House (and 
 there were a great many dull nights in that 
 year), he told himself that it was not worth 
 while to shine among such a lot of stammer- 
 ers ; and, as he looked round on the half- 
 empty benches, the slouching bodies and the 
 faces distorted at short intervals by wide 
 ostentatious yawns, he compared the scene 
 with his old visions of the great arena and 
 felt the full bitterness of the contrast. How-
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 225 
 
 ever, though his view of the House was by no 
 means respectful, John was wise enough to keep 
 his opinion to himself. Moreover, he cleverly 
 made use of his disillusion to strengthen his 
 purpose of not making a speech that year. 
 He had meant to keep silence for a while, and 
 he was glad that the temptation to let his 
 words flow was weaker than he expected. 
 So he began to acquire among the few poli- 
 tical people who seemed to notice him a repu- 
 tation for constant attendance and attention, 
 and for a respectful attitude to the Senate of 
 his country. 
 
 Mr. Maidment was dissatisfied. After the 
 first excitement of London life he suffered 
 from a natural reaction ; he began to think 
 himself neglected. The chiefs of his party 
 seemed scarcely aware of his existence. 
 Mr. Stanley Belchamber was the only one of 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 JOllJN' MAIDMENT 
 
 the leading men who showed any wish for his 
 better acquaintance, and this one loudly ex- 
 plained his desire not by any expectation of 
 the young member's poHtical qualities (at 
 their first meeting he pretended to forget to 
 which party John belonged), but by his lively 
 recollection of the escapades of Mr. Maidment 
 the Elder. He declared that he and Wilfred 
 Maidment had been boys together, that they 
 had heard the chimes at midnight, had been 
 sworn brothers in many a wild adventure. 
 
 To hear him you would suppose that this 
 worthy man, whose University first class had 
 been followed by years of the patient study of 
 Blue-books and ' Statesmen's Year-books,' and 
 by the conscientious staring at details fur- 
 nished by the permanent staffs of various de- 
 partments, had been Prince Hal and Don Juan, 
 and that the study where he had worked
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 227 
 
 with unflagging industry had been orna- 
 mented with the knockers of half the fat citizens 
 of London. As he rose in the world, he had 
 been more and more offended by his reputa- 
 tion for blamelessness. If he must submit to 
 the reputation of excellence as a public 
 servant, he could at least struggle against that 
 of private virtue. He took to swearing with 
 premeditation ; he went in search of improper 
 stories, and, above all, he dehghted in refer- 
 ences to his younger days and to that dashing 
 swashbuckler in whom he half believed as 
 his former self. 
 
 So John found himself used as a peg on- 
 which were hung wild anecdotes of his father 
 and his father's friend who had been barely an 
 acquaintance, and, though he would have for- 
 given the shght to his own claims for the sake 
 of the praises of his parent, whom it was part 
 
 Q '2
 
 228 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 of his creed to admire extravagantly, he did 
 not like the stories which gave to the gay 
 doings of the brilliant Wilfred a coarser and 
 more common air than he chose to accept. 
 He decided that the coarseness was due to 
 the coarser medium through which the tales 
 reached him, but it gave him a mild dislike of 
 the only prominent member of his party who 
 paid him any attention. 
 
 John's discontent with his party made it 
 easier for him to contemplate with equanimity 
 the fact that he was not to support them in 
 carrying the Eeform Bill. This great measure 
 was still a matter of some future session ; and 
 meanwhile John lost no fitting opportunity of 
 ])rivately saying that it would not have his 
 support. He wished to break his fall, to 
 prevent the shock of an unpleasant surprise. 
 There were a few young men in the House
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 229 
 
 who were Liberals because their ancestors 
 had beheved in freedom of speech and trial 
 by jury, and these began to look on the 
 attractive Maidment as an acquisition. They, 
 too, were discontented with their leaders, and 
 their new friend found pleasure in their free 
 criticism of the men with whom they voted. 
 
 There were other influences too which 
 more directly drew John from his party. 
 While his own chiefs paid him scant attention, 
 he was complimented by finding himself an 
 object of interest to one of the ablest of their 
 opponents. Mr. Eandall cultivated him, 
 asked him to breakfast in the Albany, even 
 asked his advice. He at least had an ade- 
 quate conception of the importance of the 
 ideas, right or wrong, of the young men ; and 
 he hstened to John with apparent respect and 
 very real interest. And there was a more
 
 230 JOHIS- MAIDMENT 
 
 flattering, a more dangerous influence than 
 that of Mr. Eandall. Among the social atten- 
 tions which the young man received, none 
 were so pleasant or so frequent as those which 
 came from Boucherett House. There he met 
 pleasant men and charming women, who 
 seemed to accept his radicalism as a piquant 
 peculiarity ; he enjoyed the atmosphere of 
 the nicest house in London and the know- 
 ledge that he was a lucky fellow to enjoy it so 
 often. Lady Gertrude had accepted him as 
 full of generous enthusiasm, as vastly interest- 
 ing ; she had almost inflated him to heroic 
 size. For the disappointments of his first 
 session there was no compensation equal to 
 that which he found in the society of the 
 Whimley intimates, and especially in that of 
 the handsome daughter of the house. 
 
 John Maidment recognised the fact that
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 231 
 
 his entliusiasm for his great party grew colder 
 day by day, but he scarcely thought either of 
 the indifference of its leaders or of the atten- 
 tions of its enemies as causes of his growing 
 coldness. These he saw at moments with a 
 passing glance ; but to him there was one 
 cause, which alone was enough to explain his 
 disenchantment and to make his aversion a 
 virtue — the want of faith. That Tories should 
 have no faith had seemed to the young man 
 at Oxford a matter of course ; he had sup- 
 posed that cynicism was the natural attribute 
 of the Conservative who was not merely stupid. 
 Plunged into the atmosphere of London he 
 found the Liberals, whose acquaintance he 
 made, more cynical in private talk than any 
 of their opponents. He had imagined a great 
 party full of faith in liberty, full of zeal for 
 the raising and enlightening of their less fortu-
 
 232 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 nate countrymen; and he heard from the hps, 
 which had filled halls and skating rinks with 
 resounding praises of freedom and protesta- 
 tions of philanthropy, nothing more stimulating 
 than stale cheap sneers at anyone who believed 
 in benefiting anybody but himself, or on rare 
 occasions a shrewd hint how to play the game 
 of politics. John told himself again and again 
 that these men were cynical as a despot at a 
 time of decadence, and would play concerted 
 pieces on their Cabinet fiddles though the em- 
 pire were in flames and the strong man starving 
 in the street. John was vastly and constantly 
 indignant with this cynical tone ; he felt its 
 enervating power, its chilling and deadly effect. 
 It fully explained to him his growing 
 aversion to the leaders of his party. He was 
 never tired of denouncing to himself this fatal 
 influence, and at last there came a time when
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 233 
 
 his virtuous indignation could no longer be 
 locked in his own breast, but after an evening 
 of unusual provocation broke forth in indig- 
 nant speech. 
 
 It was near the end of the season when 
 John was surprised by an invitation to dine 
 with Mr. Otho Sunderland. Mr. Sunderland's 
 dinners were famous, and, though he had 
 always taken a prominent place in the poli- 
 tical world, his best attention was given to the 
 selection of food and guests. The latter were 
 always few and the former exquisite. Mr. 
 Sunderland was still a comely man, whose 
 skin retained a remarkable gloss and rosiness "; 
 and if there was something pig-like in the 
 lines of the face and the twinkle of the little 
 eyes, it suggested an animal of a refined breed 
 and one whose marvellous digestive powers 
 had been used with some re<?ard to moderation.
 
 234 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 Moreover, if at the first sight of this hospi- 
 table gentleman the observer could not but 
 think of his digestion, at the next he was 
 bound to recognise his intelligence. Above 
 the twinkling eyes, which were themselves 
 very keen and vivacious, the head was strong 
 and solid. If Mr. Sunderland was like a pig, 
 it was a pig with the intelligence strongly and 
 sanely developed. He was very rich ; he was 
 a bachelor, and seemed happy in the state ; he 
 had great political influence ; he liad refused 
 office. He appeared to enjoy all aspects of 
 life, and one of the things which amused him 
 most was the game of politics. At his little 
 dinners he liked to entertain no one better 
 than a Cabinet minister, unless it were a pretty 
 and a witty woman. He had seen John in the 
 House, admired his handsome vivacious ap- 
 pearance, and asked him to dinner. John
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 235 
 
 accepted with pleasure, for he had heard of 
 Mr. Sunder kind's influence, and he was capti- 
 vated by the comphment of an invitation to 
 one of those banquets which were notoriously 
 select ; and his pleasure was increased when 
 he found that in the small party to which he 
 had been bidden there were three Cabinet 
 ministers and at least two of the prettiest 
 women in London. 
 
 John prepared to be happy, but to pre- 
 pare to be happy is to challenge disappoint- 
 ment. You build the palace of happiness 
 stone by stone, and dulness sits heavy in every 
 chamber : you go into the back-yard, and 
 with a glint of sunshine over the wall happi- 
 ness has kissed you and is gone. John found 
 himself out of it. The ladies, who were un- 
 deniably pretty, and with eyes and teeth and 
 laughter which were almost wit, were so busy
 
 236 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 witli fascinating the more ponderous poli- 
 ticians that they scarcely seemed to notice 
 that the new youth was good-looking, and 
 the attentions of the magnates of his party 
 were so casual as to be less complimentary 
 than obvious contempt. A limp finger from 
 Lord AUport and a galvanized grin on the 
 tired face of Mr. Belchamber were all the 
 signs that they recognised in Mr. Maidment 
 a pledged supporter. John's contempt in- 
 creased as the delicate feast went on. He 
 asked himself why this elderly Sybarite had 
 asked him ? His hp curled at the pleasan- 
 tries with which, to their own immense satis- 
 faction, the pohticians entertained the beauties. 
 The insincerity of these public moralists 
 filled him with disgust, the coarseness and 
 clumsiness of their comphments. If the 
 admirable artist who had made the entrees
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 237 
 
 of the evening had had no finer taste in 
 flavours, tliev mis^ht have been dininir at a 
 farmers' ordinary. And their equivocal com- 
 phments to the ladies were no worse than the 
 jests which they rolled at each other. They 
 told stories as^ainst each other and all were 
 of one pattern. Each had a tale of some 
 delinquency of the other. - If you had believed 
 them, you would have supposed that her 
 Majesty's ]\Iinisters cared for nothing but 
 gambhng in railway carriages, following 
 pretty women, and sneering at politics. Otho 
 Sunderland beamed irresponsible ; he led the 
 talk ; he gave it its greatest richness. Some- 
 body spoke of the Eadicals. 
 
 ' Eadicals ! ' he cried ; ' we are all Eadicals. 
 Hillingdon is Eadical till you touch the land, 
 Allport till you touch his monotonous phea- 
 sants ; Simpson's a Socialist to the point of
 
 238 JOHN MAIDMExVT 
 
 Sevres china, and Belchamber to that of 
 ladies' gowns. The ladies must have pretty 
 gowns for Belchamber.' Mr. Stanley Bel- 
 chamber, in whose weary face the lines had 
 been vanishing in that unctuous atmosphere, 
 made ready to think of a mot, but the 
 irresistible host passed on above him. ' I 
 shall dish you all,' he said ; ' I shall lead the 
 party yet ; I haven't a taste I can't give up 
 with a smile — not even the gowns.' He gave 
 a large smile to left and right and added, 
 ' No degree of Communism can prevent one 
 woman from being prettier than another/ 
 
 ' Order, order ! ' cried Lord Allport for no 
 particular reason and laughed immoderately. 
 
 ' Otho doesn't stop at the gowns,' said 
 Stanley Belchamber, who had at last put to- 
 gether something which seemed witty. Per- 
 haps it was witty, for they all laughed, and
 
 JOHN MAIDMEXT 239 
 
 pretty Lady Skipmore whispered something 
 to Mr. Hiilingdon, and called him a cad when 
 he threatened to repeat it. 
 
 ' Don't reform away our pretty clothes,' 
 said lovely Mrs. Mullinger gravely ; ' we should 
 be nothing without them.' 
 
 Mrs. MuUinger had large soft eyes, and 
 made the most simple remarks. Nobody 
 knew if she meant to be funny, and, when her 
 audience roared with laughter, she looked at 
 them hke a surprised dove. 
 
 As the wine began to take effect and the 
 pubHc servants expanded more and more, the 
 talk came faster and the jokes aroused more 
 generous laughter. Hiilingdon declared that 
 Lord Allport had sold the future of the 
 House of Lords to a beautiful Radical lady ; 
 and Allport asserted that Hiilingdon had 
 failed to meet the local Three Hundred, whose
 
 240 JOH^^ MAIDMENT 
 
 mouthpiece lie was, because he was so intent 
 on robbing a bagman at ecarte that he had 
 passed the station unawares. ' There he was 
 in a first-class carriage with the blinds down 
 pocketing the gent's last shilling, and there 
 were his masters outside waiting for his 
 defence of his monstrous and unpatriotic 
 treatment of the great French Egg Question ; 
 they'll never forgive him ; the seat's lost.' 
 
 'Hilhngdon,' said Mr. Belchamber, 
 ' would make any place too hot to hold 
 him; 
 
 ' Ah ! ' cried Otho Sunderland ; ' he may 
 find that useful some day.' 
 
 There was a pause before the laughter 
 came ; there was a sort of shiver in Lady 
 Skipmore's silvery laughter. Lady Skip- 
 more had been born and brought up in one 
 of the quieter towns of New England, and
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 241 
 
 her first success in English society had been 
 as the daintiest of Puritans ; but she was a 
 clever little woman, and finding that in the 
 set which struck her as the best a certain 
 freedom of speech prevailed, she had drilled 
 herself through a time of blushes to listen 
 to amazing talk and to answer in the same 
 key. 'When you are in Eome,' she said 
 to herself, ' you must talk as the Eomans 
 talk,' and it was not long before she bettered 
 her example. It was all talk with Lady 
 Skipmore, and the letters which she wrote 
 to her relations in America were filled half 
 with the names but not the talk of the 
 prominent people among whom she moved, 
 and half with the latest anecdotes of her 
 babies. 
 
 John Maidment was vastly disgusted. 
 The night was hot and dry, and when he 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 left Mr. Sunderland's house he found small 
 refreshment. On the stairs he had heard 
 a burst of laughter, and felt certain that 
 they were laughing at him. He would 
 make some of them laugh on the wrong 
 side of their mouths yet. He half resolved 
 to start the crusade on the morrow — to set 
 forth on a speaking tour, to stump the 
 country, to lay bare to the deluded pro- 
 vincials the intimate opinions of these men, 
 whose moral perorations had thrilled them 
 in the daily papers. He remembered the 
 time when he too had been thrilled, and 
 he was furious with these men who had 
 deceived him. 'What do they think of 
 me,' he said aloud, ' that they speak like 
 that before me? Do they think me a fool 
 — so weak that I can't hurt them ? ' He 
 was deeply wounded. It seemed to him
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 243 
 
 that he had never before seen in all its 
 naked deformity the shameless cynicism of 
 the political orators whose mouths were full 
 in full political meetings of equity, philan- 
 thropy, morality. 
 
 R 2
 
 244 JOHN MAIDMKXT 
 
 CHAPTEE XY. 
 
 The next morning John Maidnient was en- 
 gaged to breakfast with a genial young Whig 
 of his acquaintance, and he was still so full of 
 the impressions of the last night that he spoke 
 eloquently and with feeling of the contrast 
 between pubhc professions and private beliefs ; 
 and, being met with some light objections 
 and comments, he grew rapidly warmer and 
 expressed himself with an earnestness and 
 even with a passion which is rare at an 
 English breakfast table. He made an excel- 
 lent impression. His words were very effec- 
 tive, and some of the listeners were busy
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 245 
 
 wondering if he might not be a power in the 
 House. They wagged their heads at each 
 other when he had gone, and said that he 
 was a very earnest chap and had lots of go ; 
 and before he went his young host, wise as 
 genial, had engaged him to come and speak 
 to his constituents for him on some occasion 
 before the next meeting of Parliament, 
 
 Some months passed before John's Whig 
 friend claimed the fulfilment of his promise, 
 and he responded to the summons like one 
 awaking from a lethargy to a glorious 
 day. He had not enjoyed these months of 
 repose. He had stayed for the most part in 
 his dull London lodgings, studying and 
 doubting the usefulness of his studies ; think- 
 ing of Brentholme which had already found 
 a tenant, and telling himself that he had no 
 place to go to ; taking a doubtful pleasure in
 
 246 JOHN MAIDxMENT 
 
 economising. He pictured the Brent family 
 established in the Marine Parade of the 
 quiet watering-place which was too near to 
 their beloved home ; he did not want to go 
 to them ; he was angry because they did not 
 press him to come. He was angry too at the 
 folly of the family. It was absurd that they 
 should have got themselves into such a posi- 
 tion with their pride and reticence. Why had 
 the Colonel not confided in him from the 
 iirst ? He asked himself the question again 
 and again, though he was sick of it. He 
 pictured Paul riding about after cows in Mon- 
 tana, and did not like the picture. Eeminded 
 of a promise which he had forgotten, and 
 being called to speak at short notice in a small 
 country town where he was unknown, his 
 spirit leapt witliin him ; he felt the first stirring 
 of spring; he perceived tliat another time of
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 247 
 
 political activity had come ; his speech was 
 ready to flow. And his speech did flow indeed, 
 and to such purpose, that the rumour of it 
 spread beyond the petty place where it was 
 delivered ; it was noticed by more than one 
 of the London papers, and finally one passage 
 of it was quoted in a leader of the ' Times.' 
 
 The chiefs of John Maidment's party had 
 concocted a httle measure for Ireland, and, 
 after producing it with tender patronising 
 speeches, had been obliged to postpone it to 
 the coming session. Upon this one of the 
 entertaining experiments which are made 
 upon the sister island John, sore with things 
 in general, and especially with his leaders, 
 allowed himself a free rush of indignant 
 criticism. He did not suppose that he would 
 be heard beyond the whitewashed walls of the 
 Institute, and he thought that he might reheve
 
 248 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 his overcharged heart and hear no more of 
 it. He did not mean to say much ; but the 
 excitement of speech after long silence, the 
 applause of his audience mingled with expos- 
 tulatory grumblings of the most orthodox, and 
 the unfeigned delight of his host, carried the 
 young orator forward on a full stream. He 
 touched briefly on former and larger measures 
 for Ireland, and, after pointing out that the 
 expected effect had not in each case followed, 
 he held up the little piece of legislation which 
 was to be now tried in its turn, and shook 
 it and turned it inside out and flung it down 
 with a fine scorn. ' Let nobody suppose,' he 
 said, ' that I look with disrespect on the 
 author of this measure. He has produced a 
 masterpiece. With patient industry and a 
 more than Machiavellian subtlety he has put 
 together a piece of legislation so ingeniously
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 249 
 
 framed that the good, which it can in the 
 happiest circumstances effect, will be the 
 least possible, and the disturbance which it 
 cannot but produce must be incalculable 
 and irremediable. I congratulate her Ma- 
 jesty's Government. We are all warm sup- 
 porters of her Majesty's Government.' 
 
 Here he was interrupted by the warm 
 applause of those who had been a little puz- 
 zled but now recognised a familiar signal for 
 acclamations. 
 
 'We are all warm supporters of her 
 Majesty's Government, and it is our privilege 
 to recognise with the profoundest sentiments 
 to what an amazing pitch of ingenuity her 
 Majesty's Government can attain.' 
 
 Here there was another burst of applause, 
 but some of the more wary were again 
 puzzled and abstained and looked cunning.
 
 250 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 ' Tliis little measure,' said John in his 
 sweetest tones, ' so long expected, so fondly 
 cherished, nursed so carefully in the recess, 
 displayed so dehcately in the session — this 
 little measure has every fault which so small a 
 creature can exhibit. Sent as yet another 
 messenger of conciliation, it will concihate no 
 class and exasperate all ; instead of the olive- 
 branch it bears the fiery cross ; it will em- 
 bitter every cause of discontent in the country 
 and will mitigate none. You have all heard 
 of the physician who threw his patients into 
 fits because he understood fits. It might 
 almost be held by a cj/nical critic of measures 
 such as these that the Government Hked to 
 throw Ireland into convulsions because they 
 understood coercion bills.' 
 
 It was this last illustration which was 
 repeated by many people and which found
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 251 
 
 its way into the leading newspaper. John 
 thought httle of it ; it had occurred to him 
 while he spoke, and had taken shape before he 
 had criticised it ; for some reason it had in it 
 the element of popularity. It was fated to 
 turn up again at an important moment and to 
 have a starthng effect on its author's career. 
 
 There was dull speech-making in the 
 House of Commons. The little Irish measure 
 had reappeared, but shone with a fainter light. 
 There was a general belief that it was doomed ; 
 it was rumoured that it was a cause of dis- 
 sension in the Cabinet, who, as one cunning 
 gentleman asserted, were only unanimous in 
 the intention of ascribing its loss to the ob- 
 struction of the Opposition. Its success would 
 have been a doubtful good ; its failure might 
 be of value to its party. It is no wonder that 
 debate on a matter so small and with so little
 
 252 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 vitality grew more and more languid. Even 
 the heat of the Irish members required con- 
 stant stirring, and the more humorous of them 
 almost laughed in the midst of their denunci- 
 ations. It was a night of boredom. Scattered 
 on half-empty benches, legislators sprawled 
 and yawned. Most of them had reached a 
 time of life when monotonous oratory leads 
 softly but surely to sleep. Viewed from 
 ths Strangers' Gallery the House invited a 
 study of various degrees and sorts of bald- 
 ness, for, save where here and there one 
 peacefully slumbered in the shadow of his 
 tilted hat, the members were uncovered. 
 There was shiny baldness and fluffy baldness, 
 bumpy pates with wisps of hair laid dexter- 
 ously across, but scarcely one head thickly 
 and honestly covered. They were the heads 
 of elderly sensible persons, who had done the
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 253 
 
 more serious work of their lives, some at 
 ample desks in the City, some in the turnips 
 or on the heather. Now, as their waists ex- 
 panded, they seemed like men who were 
 taking their ease, as Englishmen sometimes 
 will, in the least easy manner possible. 
 
 But if to the great majority of members 
 pontics were obviously a matter of at least 
 secondary importance, there was a fair show 
 on both sides of the House of more earnest 
 politicians. There were men who were young, 
 as youth is reckoned nowadays, some on the 
 sunny side of forty, others between forty and 
 fifty. 
 
 Among these latter one might see the 
 keen gray face of a lawyer, who had worked 
 day after day from dawn to bedtime that he 
 might be rich enough to enter Parhament, 
 and who, having won his seat, was worrying
 
 254 JOHX MAIDMENT 
 
 himself with the fear that he had forced his 
 mind into a shape too exclusively legal. 
 With nervous face, disordered hair, dusty and 
 gritty as his legal bookshelves, he sat twisting 
 his long legs and spurring his jaded attention. 
 There too was the grave rough face of a 
 workmen's candidate, who wasted too much 
 of his energy in the set purpose of showing 
 that he held himself at least as good as his 
 fine-haired neighbours ; and next to him was 
 the hght fluffy hair and pale-eyed, self-satis- 
 fied, intelligent face of the political theorist — 
 a theorist who had learned the general prin- 
 ciples of legislation from books, as a child his 
 catechism, and who spent his life in preach- 
 ing them like a Dissenting minister and in 
 measuring with his little accurate rules the 
 rough-and-tumble law-making of his party. 
 There too were the small body of the might-
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 255 
 
 have-beens, cold, supercilious, critical of the 
 efforts of their comrades, statesmen them- 
 selves had it been worth their while. There 
 too, next to the well-fed, well-groomed Otho 
 Sunderland, who watched the game with a 
 mild eupeptic interest, was the big head with 
 staring eyes of the politician altogether 
 serious. Destitute of humour, loving debate 
 however dull, rushing in private life into dis- 
 cussion and explanation of old debates long 
 gone by, retailing on no encouragement old 
 House-of-Commons jests and anecdotes, proud 
 of the least significant of public offices, and 
 looking up with respect to his colleagues 
 in the Cabinet, the politician, who played 
 the game as if he had one of his claw-like 
 fingers in the management of the Universe, 
 presented to the observant eye a strange re- 
 semblance to an unfinished eagle. And there
 
 256 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 were a few men really young, shining like 
 the lilies of the field in a great company 
 of potatoes, who proclaimed in every line of 
 head and face, as in their clothes and boots, 
 that they owed their seats to family influence. 
 They were a strange gathering, and over all 
 of them — the successful, those who might 
 have been successful, those who struggled 
 for success, drowsy elders and gilded youths 
 alike, intellectualised pigs and unfinished 
 eagles — hung on that night a double portion 
 of dreariness. Dreariness was the very atmo- 
 sphere of the scene. One might have 
 thought that the speakers were condemned to 
 fill so many columns of the morning paper. 
 An orator stopped in the midst of his oration 
 to yawn. A thought had been beaten thin in 
 a newspaper article, and now the article was 
 beaten thin in a speech. It seemed as if
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 257 
 
 viands had been warmed up again and were 
 served to people who had already supped too 
 well. It had all been heard before ; they 
 would have to hear it all again. The hearers 
 sat like men who were undergoing a cure, 
 condemned to sit and let words trickle over 
 them, so many an hour, in a sort of bath of 
 vapours. They were undergoing the word- 
 cure. 
 
 John too was overwhelmed by the general 
 dreariness. He sat hearing arguments, fore- 
 seeing the argument which was to come next, 
 repeating like a machine the answer which 
 had been given so often. He sat hke a lonely 
 pleasure-seeker at a dull play, the dialogue of 
 which he knows by heart. 
 
 But on a sudden he was aroused from his 
 lethargy, A speaker of the Opposition, who 
 had been going on the famihar round, tired 
 
 VOL. I. s
 
 O'.Q. 
 
 2-) 8 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 perhaps of ending his speech with his usual 
 sentence of solemn warning, dropped an 
 allusion to fits and coercion bills, and sat 
 down. Two or three people, wdio were less 
 near to sleep than their neighbours, looked at 
 John and smiled. The Cabinet minister who 
 rose to take his turn at the evening's solemn 
 mockery turned as he rose and looked at 
 John. The young member felt a sudden 
 thrill of nervous excitement, but it grew faint 
 as the great man began to repeat the famihar 
 answers to the familiar criticisms of the last 
 speaker. It was not until his task was done 
 that he seemed to remember the young sup- 
 porter who sat behind him ; and then, with 
 an air of patronage and playfulness, he said a 
 few words about the indiscretion of extreme 
 youth. 
 
 There was a laugh, and John leapt in his
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 259 
 
 seat. To be rebuked and patronised by one 
 of these very men with whose flippancy he 
 was so righteously angry ! To be ridiculed 
 by a master of such clumsy forensic plea- 
 santry ! John did not stop to think what he 
 was doing ; he was on his feet before the 
 minister had lowered himself to his place ; he 
 met the recognition of the Speaker's glance ; 
 he was making his first speech in Parliament. 
 He heard his voice full and firm in the place ; 
 he felt words and sentences arrange them- 
 selves before him ; the arguments were only 
 too famihar, but his annoyance gave them 
 life ; he was glad of his annoyance, for he 
 spoke with fire, and knew that he was speak- 
 ing well. The House began to fill rapidly ; 
 members poured in to listen, and those who 
 had been dozing on the benches sat up and 
 forgot the immense tedium. John felt the
 
 260 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 growing interest, the delight of kindUng 
 admiration, the old stimulant of opposition. 
 The criticisms of the small Irish measure 
 sprang with new hfe to his lips, and, when he 
 had made an end of these, he dared to pass 
 to a wider view of the needs and distresses of 
 Ireland, to a fine scorn of meddhng injurious 
 legislation, to a finer hope of honest and 
 helpful reforms. He did not speak too long ; 
 he trusted to his instinct ; he broke off when 
 the sympathy of his audience was warmest. 
 
 ' As for the allusion to my youth,' he said 
 with an effective change of manner, ' if indeed 
 it could have been intended for so insigni- 
 ficant an individual as myself, I will not repeat 
 yet again — trite answer to a trite accusa- 
 tion — that youth is a fault soon remedied. I 
 will not affect to regret that I am young. 
 I will only say that, when I am come to man's
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 261 
 
 estate, I hope that I shall know better than to 
 mistake a worn-out historical taunt for an 
 effective rebuke.' 
 
 When John sat down, the House was full 
 of animation, and he heard the delighted 
 acclamations of the Opposition.
 
 262 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 CHAPTEE XVI. 
 
 The young man who wakes to find himself 
 famous may be surprised to find how little 
 way the trumpet of fame can carry. The 
 servant girl who trots upstairs with his tea 
 and toast is aware of no change in his 
 importance. The man who hves in the 
 rooms below does not know his name ; the 
 man who lives in the attics above scorns him 
 as a well-dressed idler, A friend and play- 
 mate of his childhood wonders vaguely, as he 
 walks into the City, if the Maidment who 
 seems to have made rather a good speech is 
 any relation of the fellow whom he used to 
 know at school ; and he tries to remember if
 
 JOIIX MAIDMEXT 26 
 
 that was the way in which his friend spelt his 
 name. 
 
 Still John was famous. His name was 
 in all the papers, and his speech was fairly 
 reported in some of them. At least two men 
 stopped him in Pall Mall to congratulate him, 
 and the sociable young Whig, for whom he had 
 spoken at Easter, passed his arm through his 
 and walked him up the pavement of St. James's 
 Street with the air of an impresario who had 
 brought out a successful prima donna. In 
 Piccadilly too a very smart lady in a very 
 smart carriage clapped her little gloved hands 
 in a most knowing manner, and the next 
 moment a Cabinet minister's wife, who, as is 
 the way with women, was a far more earnest 
 partisan than her semi-cynical lord, glared at 
 him like a poHtical Medusa, John was not 
 turned to stone : he felt that he had really
 
 264 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 made an impression ; he was aglow with life ; 
 it was summer in all the air ; it was hard to 
 believe that any place could be more delight- 
 ful than the shady side of Piccadilly. Nor did 
 John Maidment's reputation pass with the day. 
 His attitude to his party w^as the text of 
 leading articles and the cause of letters more 
 or less indignant printed in the daily papers ; 
 while at the week's end a whole article of a 
 wise and good weekly Eeview was dedicated 
 to the young member, who found himself 
 admired and chided with the tender regret of 
 the least narrow of maiden aunts. He had 
 been naughty, but he was a very clever boy : 
 it was by no means certain that he too had 
 not some touch of genius. 
 
 These were brave days for the young 
 man. He marked a daily growing flood of 
 cards of invitation, and the more flattering
 
 JOHN MAlDxMEXT 265 
 
 tribute of little notes. Nods in tlie street 
 were more marked ; people who knew liim 
 were glad to say so, and were apt to think 
 that they had always known that he would 
 make his mark. To make his mark — is it 
 not a fine phrase ? To insist upon re- 
 cognition, to cry aloud that this is I wlio 
 have done something. The uneducated 
 person who cannot sign his name makes 
 his mark also, but tliat is another 
 matter. It was the season, the time of the 
 flood of frivolity, when everyone in the world, 
 the world who dress and dine and ride on 
 glossy horses in the Park, was on the look- 
 out for a novelty. ' Tell us of some new 
 thing,' they seem to cry to each other ; 
 'boredom is only half a length behind, and 
 we must catch at something interesting or 
 be caught. Oh ! my dear, is that the young
 
 266 JOHX MAIDMEXT 
 
 man who made the wonderful speech or 
 something ? How clever he looks, and what 
 eyes ! My dear, you must introduce him to 
 me.' Charming women declared emphati- 
 cally that they must know John Maidment. 
 Little plots were made that they might meet 
 him at luncheon. His manner was pro- 
 nounced perfect. He was vivacious ; his eyes 
 were full of fire ; it was often said of him that 
 he was such a relief after all those young men 
 who could not amuse themselves and took no 
 pains to amuse anybody else. 
 
 It seemed to John as if all the world 
 was kind to him except the magnates of his 
 party. Cards came to him from their wives, 
 but no j)ersonal attentions. They still pre- 
 served tlie attitude of superior beings and 
 showed no sign of thinking him dangerous. 
 The Cabinet of the day was composed of men
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 267 
 
 unusually clever ; they had dexterously 
 defended many weak positions ; they had 
 reached the point of thinking that nobody 
 outside their charmed circle was of much 
 importance. As for this boy who had attacked 
 them from the rear, when any one of them 
 thought of him at all, he took care to be 
 patronising and contemptuous. John was 
 angry ; he lelt the insolence of their attitude ; 
 he was sure that this ignoring of his powers 
 was mere affectation — part of the awful in- 
 sincerity which had shocked him so deeply 
 already. He waited for his opportunity and 
 attacked them again. As the session went on 
 he made more speeches, spirited, effective, 
 not too many. If his own side preserved 
 more or less the air of indifference, the Opposi- 
 tion grew more and more enthusiastic, and 
 his words flowed apace under the combined
 
 268 JOHN MAIDMENT 
 
 stimulants of applause and indignation. 
 Nothing could be more effective than his 
 attitude of the enthusiast who had lost or was 
 fast losing his cherished illusions. He looked 
 the part ; he felt the loss. He seemed to 
 embody the ardent faith of youth. His voice 
 trembled as, speaking for the young Liberals 
 of his college days, he described their ardour 
 for reforms, their trust in their leaders, their 
 vision of the fairer day to be, and then, carried 
 away by his feelings, contrasted the hopes of 
 these young enthusiasts with the catch-vote 
 compromises of judicious and sceptical poli- 
 ticians. It was John's best peroration, and 
 he recognised with delight that he owed its 
 vigour to his righteous indignation. He 
 nursed this indignation ; he kept his eyes fixed 
 on the insincerities of the party leaders ; he 
 tapped them, and listened to the hollow sounds.
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 2G9 
 
 While they turned a bold front to the world, 
 was it not notorious that no one of them 
 agreed with his fellows ? If they were big 
 with contempt of all who were outside of the 
 charmed circle, were not all their best energies 
 w^asted in wrangling within it ? What chance 
 Avas there of an effectual policy from a collec- 
 tion of men who disagreed on the very aims 
 to which their efforts should be directed ? 
 
 More and more directly with each succeed- 
 ing day did John Maidment's criticism of his 
 chiefs lead him to a comparison of parties. 
 More and more ready was he to declare that 
 for useful reforms Liberals were not a whit 
 more zealous than Conservatives. In his 
 moments of leisure and solitude he reviewed 
 the questions which were sure to arise, and 
 considered what were the coming Liberal 
 measures which he would be called upon to
 
 270 JOHX MAIDMEOT 
 
 support. There was the extension of the 
 franchise, but that he must put aside, for by 
 the pecuhar accidents of his case he was 
 prevented from voting for any extension of 
 the franchise. As for the land, he expected 
 nothing from the present Government but a 
 too probable meddling, which would produce 
 nothing but general insecurity. Of that which 
 is too often with unconscious humour termed 
 ' the abolition of primogeniture,' moderate 
 men of all parties expressed at times a mild 
 approval, which was extended also to the 
 abolition of tenants for life, and a cheapening 
 and simplification of the methods of land 
 transfer. For any more sweeping changes in 
 land tenure were these ministers, of whom 
 the majority were large landowners, hkely 
 to be in earnest — these ministers, who, as 
 John had found to his sorrow, were earnest
 
 JOIIX MAIDMENT 271 
 
 about nothing ? All sorts of useful reforms 
 were kept waiting because they were not of a 
 kind to excite the sluggish imaginations of the 
 mass of voters. The fairest river in the 
 world ran foul and putrid through the richest 
 city. Crowded on rotting floors and swarm- 
 ing on crumbling staircases, boys and girls 
 grew up together with no chance of decency, 
 on playground but the gutter, no protection 
 for their youth. 
 
 As for these and other like matters, there 
 was apathy enough in all quarters, but there 
 was at least as much chance of their being 
 dealt with by a Conservative as by a Liberal 
 Government. Indeed, the first prominent 
 politician, who had coquetted with a scheme 
 for the improvement of the houses in which 
 herd the London poor, was a Tory leader, 
 who had incontinently drawn down upon
 
 272 JOHI^ MAIDMEXT 
 
 himself the rebuke and ridicule of Liberal 
 political economists. John Maidment said to 
 himself again and again that the Opposition 
 were at least more honest, and that from 
 them there was more chance of obtaining 
 useful, if unshowy, reforms. They were 
 more honest ; they made less pretence ; they 
 did not taint the air with their sham philan- 
 thropy, their windy protestations ; they did 
 not even go quite so far in pouring flattery, 
 which they knew to be undeserved, upon 
 their beguiled and injured countrymen. The 
 comparison of parties, which always ended 
 to the disadvantage of the party to which 
 he belonged, exercised more and more the 
 active mind of Mr. John Maidment. 
 
 One afternoon in the height of the season 
 John sat brooding in his lodgings. The 
 afternoon sun poured in, and gave an irri-
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 273 
 
 tating importance to the cheap striped table- 
 cloth, and a dazzling brilliancy to the glass 
 pendants of the chimney ornaments. The 
 blind was pulled up awry; a faint smell of 
 cooking came up from below ; the landlady's 
 baby was fretful, and an inferior organ was 
 jerking out ' La donna e mobile ' at the street 
 corner. John was out of spirits. The world 
 seemed dry and dusty as the July afternoon. 
 He was sick of his recurring arguments on 
 pohtical parties, and as sick of that social 
 success which he had tasted so eagerly. 
 After all, his success had been as nothing 
 in comparison with that of the newest Ame- 
 rican girl, who had exchanged her triumphs 
 as belle of Kansas City for the amaze- 
 ment and delight of the Courts of Europe. 
 Even the enchanting Spaniard, who sang in 
 the most proper drawing-rooms those songs 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 JOHN MAIDMEXT 
 
 of Spain which were suspected of being so 
 awfully wicked, had been a greater celebrity. 
 John pushed aside a pile of cards, with which 
 the table was littered, and was half inchned 
 to abjure society. His notes for an essay on 
 the Water Supply of London seemed even 
 less to the purpose ; it almost seemed as if a 
 drought was the proper thing for this inferior 
 Babylon. There was another pile of papers, 
 which pleased him less than any. He had 
 been extravagant in nothing, and yet he had 
 spent too much money. He looked round 
 the room and recognised his virtuous 
 economy in living in a place so unlovely. 
 He could think of nothing but hansoms, 
 which could have rolled away with his pitiful 
 allowance. What a shame it was that he, 
 who had so many important matters on his 
 mind, should be obhged to consider the price
 
 JOIIX MAIDMENT 275 
 
 of a necessary cab or a pair of decent boots ! 
 Nobody, he knew well, was less greedy of 
 money than he ; but enough to save him from 
 these sordid calculations — was he not justified 
 in demanding of Fortune so little as that ? It 
 was so iniquitous that a fine instrument 
 should be blunted by base uses. If only he 
 had been as little scrupulous as other men, he 
 might by this time be in a position where he 
 could put all thoughts of money on one side. 
 He gave a great sigh, unlocked an old box 
 which stood on the sloping floor at his side 
 and shoved the papers in, and, as he pushed 
 them down, he caught a glimpse of a piece of 
 writing, which made him pause. Forgotten 
 in the old despatch-box was a scrap of paper 
 on which Letty had written some verses. He 
 remembered the exact place in the old 
 garden at Brentholme where he had caught
 
 276 JOHN MAIDMEXT 
 
 her spouting the lines, and had made her 
 repeat them, and he had condemned them 
 as formless doggerel, and she had been highly- 
 indignant and had declared that they were 
 like all summer to her, and that he knew 
 nothing about it ; and afterwards in a mock- 
 ing mood she had written them out for him 
 and bade him learn them by heart. 
 
 John thought that he was a great admirer 
 of poetry, but he had got out of the way of 
 reading it. Perhaps he had always liked it 
 best when it was nearest to rhetoric. Cer- 
 tainly these lines of Coleridge, written in the 
 half-formed girhsh hand, struck him still 
 as childish stuff: — 
 
 But green leaves and blossoms and sunny warm weather, 
 And singing and loving, all come back together ; 
 And the lark is so brimful of gladness and love. 
 The green fields below him, the blue sky above, 
 That he sings and he sings and for ever sings he — 
 I love my love and my love loves me.
 
 JOHN MAIDMENT 277 
 
 A doubt flitted across the young man's 
 mind if there were not something in this song 
 after all, a certain freshness which changed 
 the air of his stuffy London lodging. But it 
 was the well-known writing which appealed 
 to him more surely. As he held the crumpled 
 paper, his conscience leapt up like a Jack-in- 
 the-box and began asking questions. Had 
 he been too quick to leave the girl, who in 
 his mental picture showed so fair ? Had he 
 not been wrong in writing so little to the 
 Brents ? Was she pining for him by the 
 green breaking waves of the shore? How 
 fresh and cool was the thought of the sea in 
 that stuffy room above the narrow street! It 
 would be sweet to breathe the salt air, if only 
 for an hour, and sweet to see again the girl 
 who perhaps was thinking at that very 
 moment of him. He could see her eyes as
 
 278 JOHN MAIDMEXT 
 
 they looked up and saw him commg. He 
 would go, if only for a single day ; he would 
 rush in upon the Brent family in exile by the 
 sea — yes, certainly, unless some duty, pohtical 
 or other, j)revented him, he would go down 
 by an early train on the very next morning. 
 If it were not for the big ball he would go 
 down that night ; but he must go to the ball. 
 It was one of the things to which everybody 
 went who had a chance of going; and besides, 
 he had told Lady Gertrude that he should be 
 there. He had not seen Lady Gertrude for 
 two whole days ; and slie had been so kind to 
 him — the whole Boucherett family had been 
 so kind — that he felt himself bound to stay 
 for that one evening. To-morrow he would 
 go ; and he felt so virtuous after this good 
 intention, that the heat and the dust and the
 
 JOHX MAIDMEXT 279 
 
 problems and the bills seemed light as air; 
 and, as the evening brought a grateful cool- 
 ness, he went out to dine at his club with a 
 quick step and a good appetite. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 PIIINTED BY 
 
 SPOTTISWOODE A\D fO.. \KW-.STREET SQUARE 
 
 LUNDON