Return this book on or before the 
 Latest Date stamped below. 
 
 University of Illinois Library 
 
 L161— H41
 
 M A E C I A. 
 
 W. E. NOEEIS, 
 
 ACTHOE OF " rniELBY HALL," ETC. 
 
 IN TEEEE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET. 
 
 189a 
 
 IThe right of translation is reserved.'}
 
 LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, 
 
 STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS.
 
 e; 
 
 V.I 
 
 CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 ^ CHAPTE R PAGE 
 
 ]^ I. The Debct of ^Iiss Thompson ... ... ... 1 
 
 II. Two EXGAGOIESTS ... ... ... 19 
 
 III. Ten Years Later ... ... ... ... 35 
 
 IV. Marcia's Son ... ... ... ... 51 
 
 y. Mr Archdale is Satisfied ... ... ... 67 
 
 . VI. Lady Hampstead's C4arden--Party ... ... 82 
 
 VII. A SrxDAY Dixner-Party ... ... ... 98 
 
 Vill. Willie starts ix Life ... ... ... 116 
 
 IX. Ill-Xatured Mrs. Delamere ... ... ..." 130 
 
 ; X. Mr. Brett is very Unwise ... ... 145 
 
 XT. At Wetherby ... ... ... ... 160 
 
 r^. XII. Willie's First Holidays ... ... ... 176 
 
 XIII. The Approach of the Inevitable ... ... 192 
 
 ■^^ XIV. A Choice of Evils ... ... ... 207 
 
 IS, XV. Willie disapproves ... ... ... ... 226 
 
 XVI. Mr. Brett gives in ... ... ... 211 
 
 
 ^
 
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 in 2009 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/marcia01norr
 
 M AR C I A. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE DEBUT OF MISS THOMPSON. 
 
 It was between five and six o'clock in the morning ; 
 the sun was up, and so were most of the four 
 million inhabitants of London, the lives of most 
 of the four milHons being spent in hard labour. 
 A numerically insignificant minority had just gone 
 to bed, and were taking repose after the toils of 
 the night, for they also labour hard after their 
 fashion at certain seasons of the year. Two of 
 them, however, were still sitting up talking, and 
 were not a bit sleepy, nor even tired. For these 
 two young women had, for the first time in their 
 lives, been taking part in a very grand ball. 
 Moreover, as the ball in question had been given 
 by the parents of one of them and as the other 
 was strikingly handsome, it is scarcely necessary 
 to add that they had taken a very active part in it 
 
 ^ VOL. I. B
 
 2 MABCIA. 
 
 indeed. Probably no girl, unless she have been 
 so unhappy as to lack partners, feels tired after her 
 first ball. One of these— the strikingly handsome 
 one, who was tall and dark, and had that appear- 
 ance of health and good spirits which is in itself 
 beauty — said — 
 
 " I should like to begin this moment and do it 
 all over again. Shouldn't you ? " 
 
 "Well — not quite," answered her companion, 
 a plump little brown-haired, brown-eyed maiden, 
 who might just be called pretty, because she was 
 so young and had such a pleasant, good-humoured 
 face, but whose prettiness was not of the kind 
 which outlasts many seasons. ''You see,. I had 
 to dance with a good many people wham I didn't 
 want to dance with, and who most likely didn't 
 want to dance with me : that rather spoilt the first 
 part of it. The last two hours were nice enough." 
 "It was all perfectly glorious from start to 
 finish," Miss Marcia Thompson declared. "What 
 nonsense the people talk who say that London 
 ball-rooms are too crowded to dance in ! Perhaps 
 other ball-rooms aren't as large as yours, though ? " 
 she added, with an apprehensive glance at her 
 friend. 
 
 "I believe there are plenty larger," answered 
 Laura Beaumont. " The difficulty, it seems, isn't
 
 THE DEBUT OF MISS THOMPSON. 3 
 
 SO much want of space as want of men who can 
 dance and will dance." 
 
 " Well, there were enough of them to-night," 
 remarked Miss Marcia, with a retrospective smile 
 of satisfaction. 
 
 *' You found enough of them, no douht, and I 
 dare say you always will. By the way, you ought 
 to he congratulated upon one conquest you have 
 made in the person of Mr. Brett." 
 
 "Who? Oh, that old thing? I didn't know 
 I had made a conquest of him, and I don't see 
 what there is to congratulate me about in it if 
 I have. He isn't much of a dancer." 
 
 ''Isn't he? Well, at all events, he isn't an 
 old thing. He is a rising young barrister — in 
 fact, he is already a risen one ; only he is to rise 
 still higher, everybody says. He is going to be 
 Solicitor-General, or Attorney- General, or some- 
 thing of that sort, when he has had a little more 
 experience." 
 
 " I suppose that won't make him waltz any 
 better, will it ! " 
 
 *' No, but it will add to his distinction, which is 
 considered to be very great even now. He hardly 
 ever goes to balls, and when he does he usually 
 retires after standing for about ten minutes in the 
 doorway. At least, so I am told; and now you
 
 4 MARCIA. 
 
 can understand why his friends thought he was 
 paying you a marked compliment by dancing with 
 you three times." 
 
 "Didn't it occur to his friends that I might be 
 paying him rather a marked compHment by allow- 
 ing him to spoil three dances for me ? However, 
 I admit that it was an involuntary compliment, 
 and it shall not be repeated. The truth is that I 
 hadn't the presence of mind to refuse when he 
 asked me. This is what comes of being both shy 
 and benevolent." 
 
 Miss Beaumont laughed; perhaps she did not 
 think that either attribute was specially character- 
 istic of her friend. 
 
 "Well," she said, "if Mr. Brett had asked me 
 to dance only once, I should have felt much 
 honoured. He may not be very young, or very 
 beautiful, or even very amusing " 
 
 "He isn't the least bit amusing," interjected 
 Marcia. 
 
 " But he sets a high value upon himself, and 
 that, of course, makes his attentions flattering. 
 Some day, when he is Lord Chancellor, you will 
 perhaps look back upon this evening with pride." 
 
 " Oh, bother him and his attentions ! " returned 
 Marcia. " By the time that he is Lord Chancellor 
 I shall be dead, I trust, I don't see what there
 
 TEE DEBUT OF MISS THOMPSON. 5 
 
 can be to live for after one is forty — or even after 
 one is thirty," she added, with a sigh. 
 
 Marcia Thompson agreed with certain profound 
 philosophers that the whole aim, object, and mean- 
 ing of life is the attainment of happiness, and, 
 although she was aware that happiness may be 
 attained by diverse methods, she did not make the 
 mistake of imagining that she herself could ever 
 be happy unless she was loved. Moreover, she 
 was persuaded — whether rightly or wrongly — that 
 nobody would care very much about her after her 
 physical charms should have faded. It is, at any 
 rate, certain that her physical charms had caused 
 her to be beloved by many persons of both sexes 
 who possibly might not otherwise have been 
 attracted to her. 
 
 *'Miss Thompson," her old schoolmistress had 
 said to her in the course of a valedictory inter- 
 view, '' you cannot but be conscious that you have 
 a beautiful face. Beauty, my dear, is a gift of 
 God, like rank and wealth and intellect, and we, 
 who possess none of these things, are not sincere 
 if we pretend to underrate them. See, however, 
 that you make a good use of wliat has been given 
 to you, and remember that it must inevitably expose 
 you to dangers and temptations. I am glad to 
 think that you have the safeguard of a kind heart."
 
 6 MARCIA. 
 
 This was handsome on the part of the old lady, 
 and was tolerably true into the bargain. That 
 her well-meant platitudes should produce much 
 effect upon a young girl who was about to be 
 launched into society was hardly to be expected ; 
 but Marcia really did not intend to make any bad 
 use of her advantages. She proposed, indeed, to 
 use them, as she always had used them, for the 
 subjugation of the hearts of others; but that did 
 not prove her own to be an unkind one. Hitherto 
 her conquests had been of a very innocent descrip- 
 tion, and it may be taken as redounding to her 
 credit that she was adored by her school com- 
 panions ; yet one may doubt whether she would 
 have achieved so large a measure of popularity 
 without her beautiful face and her pretty little 
 ways. 
 
 Chief among her school friends had always been 
 Laura Beaumont, with whose hospitable parents 
 she had spent more than one happy vacation. For 
 Marcia was an orphan, with no near relations, and 
 her guardians, who were business men residing in 
 Liverpool, were only too glad to place her tempo- 
 rarily under the wing of so unexceptionable a 
 chaperon as Mrs. Beaumont. Still more glad 
 were they when, on the completion of Marcia's 
 education, the same good-natured lady offered to
 
 TEE DEBUT OF MISS THOMPSON, 7 
 
 bring her out with her own daughter, to present 
 her at Coui-t, to take her into society, and — as the 
 guardians fondly hoped— to find a suitable husband 
 for her. Well, it ought not to be difficult, they 
 thought, to find a suitable husband for a girl who 
 was extremely good-looking and had a nice little 
 fortune of her own. So Marcia was now installed 
 in Grosvenor Place for the season, and the ordeal 
 of her first Drawing-room was a thing of the past, 
 and it only remained to her to amuse herself to 
 the best of her ability, which in that direction was 
 considerable. She did not think that it would 
 amuse her at all to flirt with Mr. Brett ; and when, 
 some days after this, Laura informed her that the 
 future Lord Chancellor was coming to dinner, she 
 only made a face, saying that she hoped he would 
 not take her in. However, he did take her in, and, 
 in spite of herself, she was somewhat impressed 
 and overawed by him. 
 
 A good many people of greater importance and 
 experience than Miss Thompson were overawed 
 by Eustace Brett at that period of his hfe. Judges, 
 it was said, were a little frightened of him, for he 
 was not only a clever and efi'ective advocate, but 
 a good lawyer, and he had an awkward way of 
 being always in the right, whereas theii* lordships, 
 like other mortals, were occasionally in the wrong.
 
 8 MAR CIA. 
 
 In private, as in public life, he had contrived to 
 make himself respected, admired, and to some 
 extent feared ; though how or why he had done 
 so would be difficult to explain. He was a tall, 
 spare, middle-aged man, with a smooth-shaven 
 face, clear-cut features and thin lips, which rarely 
 smiled ; his conversation was not brilliant, he had 
 no high connections, nor was there any reason, 
 save his eminence in his profession (which could 
 hardly be called a sufficient one) for his being 
 admitted into the best houses in London. Yet he 
 was so admitted, and he refused more invitations 
 than he accepted, and he did not always trouble 
 himself to be civil to his entertainers, which 
 naturally made them take a good deal of pains to 
 be civil to him. His manner with Marcia was not 
 quite the same as it was with the rest of the world. 
 She knew that, although she had had so few 
 opportunities of observing his manner with the 
 rest of the world, and the distinction flattered her 
 vanity if it did not precisely touch her heart. His 
 voice changed when he addressed her ; he was 
 evidently anxious to interest her ; and he suc- 
 ceeded, though perhaps not quite after the fashion 
 in which he had intended to succeed. For the 
 rest, he did not hesitate to put direct ques- 
 tions to her about her tastes and ambitions, nor
 
 TEE DEBUT OF MISS TEOMPSON. 9 
 
 was he at all lenient in his criticisms on her 
 replies. 
 
 '' Oh, but you can't live simply for amusement," 
 he said, in answer to one of her remarks ; '' nobody 
 can do that. Some men — that is, if they have 
 large properties or keep racing stables or some- 
 thing of that kind — may make their amusements 
 a sort of substitute for work ; but I don't see how 
 women can. You would never be able to persuade 
 yourself that it was your sole mission in life to 
 attend balls and dinners and evening parties." 
 
 ''What should you think was my mission in life, 
 Mr. Brett?" inquired Marcia, turning her large 
 dark eyes upon her neighbour. 
 
 " The same as that of other women, I imagine. 
 If you marry — as you certainly will — it will be 
 your mission to be a good wife and mother, 
 which implies a good many hours of daily work." 
 
 " I suppose so," returned Marcia, with a grimace. 
 *' The moral of that seems to be that I had better 
 amuse myself while I can." 
 
 The man was doubtless a prig, possibly also a 
 little impertinent ; yet he impressed her. His 
 style of making love (for that he meant to make 
 love was obvious) was at all events original and 
 very unlike that adopted by her other admirers. 
 Of other admirers Miss Marcia very soon had
 
 10 MAE CIA. 
 
 quite as manj^ as she could manage. Some of 
 them were apparently serious, others were 
 doubtful ; but all were welcome ; and she was 
 the more kind and encouraging with them when 
 she discovered that Mr. Brett strongly disapproved 
 of the levity of her conduct. After the evening 
 of the dinner party in Grosvenor Place she was 
 continually meeting Mr. Brett, who went into 
 society that season more than he had ever done 
 before, and she knew that he did this for the sake 
 of meeting her ; and he had a way of glancing at 
 her severely and drawing in his lips, when she 
 passed him on the arm of some gay youth or other, 
 which afforded her much gratification. 
 
 *'You make that poor man waste a great deal 
 of valuable time," Laura (who was not herself 
 overburdened with admirers, and consequently had 
 leisure to observe the proceedings of others) told 
 her. To which she replied that she was innocent 
 of any wish to draw Mr. Brett away from his pro- 
 fessional labours. Nevertheless, it pleased her to 
 think that he was wasting his time for her sake, 
 and she was glad to know that he was jealous of 
 her, nor did she object to the little lectures which 
 he saw fit to administer to her from time to time. 
 
 *'Does the conversation of these young swells 
 interest you, Miss Thompson?" he asked her one
 
 THE DEBUT OF MISS THOMPSON. 11 
 
 evening, "or do you only look as if it interested 
 you by way of increasing your popularity ? " 
 
 " All sorts of people interest me," she answered. 
 ''I don't think I care particularly what they say, 
 so long as they do their best to be pleasant. You 
 never try to be pleasant, do you ? " 
 
 "Oh, yes, I try to be pleasant to the people 
 whom I don't care about ; with the others I try to 
 be honest." 
 
 " That is very flattering to me ; because, from 
 the general style of your observations, I suppose 
 there can be no doubt that you class me amongst 
 ' the others.' Honestly speaking, you consider me 
 a very frivolous sort of young woman, don't you ? " 
 
 "Not yet," he answered, in his quiet, deliberate 
 way. "But I should say that there was some 
 danger of your becoming so. It seems to me that 
 you care a little too much for admiration and not 
 quite enough whose admiration it may be. That 
 is the nature of most women ; but I hope it is not 
 your nature — and I don't think it is." 
 
 "What is my nature, Mr. Brett?" Marcia 
 inquired; and, as she spoke, she turned her face 
 towards his with an expression of candid cm'iosity. 
 
 " Well," he said, " you have strong affections." 
 
 Marcia nodded. " Quite right, so far. Go on, 
 please."
 
 12 MAR CI J. 
 
 '' You are not exactly vain; but you are extremely 
 anxious to be liked or thought well of by everybody, 
 and that often leads you into saying things which 
 you don't really mean. I shouldn't wonder if it 
 sometimes led you into doing things of which you 
 don't really approve. You are rather deficient in 
 moral courage, and you have not much self- 
 confidence. Your instincts are certainly good ; still 
 it is doubtful whether you will follow them, because 
 you will always be under the influence of those 
 with whom you may happen to associate." 
 
 '' You are like those tiresome people who grab 
 one's hand after dinner and pretend to decipher 
 one's character from studying the lines on one's 
 palm," remarked Marcia. 
 
 ** Have I deciphered it successfully ? " 
 *' Oh, yes, I dare say you have. Let me see ; 
 I am vain, insincere, rather cowardly, and miserably 
 weak. Yes ; I should think that was all right. 
 Any more compliments ? " 
 
 " I didn't know that you wished for compliments," 
 said Mr. Brett, with a grave smile. 
 
 '' Yet you appear to have discovered that there 
 is nothing in the world that I value more." 
 
 " I can pay you compliments without turning 
 aside from the path of strict honesty. I can tell 
 you — only I am sure you are aware of it — that you
 
 TEE DEBUT OF MISS THOMPSON. 13 
 
 have a fascination for which there is no name that 
 I know of, but which will suffice to bring any man 
 or any number of men to your feet just as often as 
 you choose to exercise it. I can tell you that you 
 are already very powerful, and that you may travel 
 a long way before you reach the limits of your 
 powers. Then, of course, I can tell you, if you 
 care to hear it, that you have eclipsed all the 
 ladies who are called beauties to-night." 
 
 Marcia coloured with pleasure. Of such speeches 
 as that she felt that she could never have too 
 many. But perhaps Mr. Brett thought that he 
 had now been complimentary enough; for he 
 added — 
 
 " The risk is that you may be spoilt by all this 
 adulation. You may think flirtation so delightful 
 and so amusing that it isn't worth your while to 
 aim at anything else than reducing that art to 
 perfection. If you do that, you will di'ive away 
 the only people whose — er — friendship is worth 
 having." 
 
 " Meaning your own — er — friendship ? " inquired 
 Marcia, with a very fair mimicry of his intonation. 
 
 " I won't say that," Mr. Brett replied ; ''I don't 
 give or withdraw my friendship lightly. But I 
 confess that I shall be grievously disappointed if 
 you turn out a hard-hearted flirt, like most of the
 
 U MABCIA. 
 
 girls whom one meets. I hope better things of 
 you." 
 
 Marcia laughed and cut short the colloquy by 
 signalling to one of her partners, who had been 
 hovering in the offing for the last minute or so. 
 There are certain accusations which have never 
 given offence to any woman since the world began. 
 It is wrong to be a hard-hearted flirt ; but it is not 
 disagreeable to be stigmatized in that way by 
 persons who are incapable of forming a just 
 judgment and whose incapacity is due to circum- 
 stances for which allowance may easily be made. 
 At least, Mr. Brett could not say that she had 
 flirted with him. 
 
 Nevertheless, other people said so; for this is 
 a censorious world, and nobody will ever know how 
 good we really all are and how little we intend to 
 work mischief until we learn to judge of our 
 neighbours by ourselves — which is a very hard 
 lesson to learn. Laura Beaumont, for instance, 
 told her friend in so many words that she was 
 behaving abominably. 
 
 " It isn't fair, Marcia," said she. " I don't 
 complain of your amusing yourself with these 
 young men, who very likely are only amusing 
 themselves with you ; but you know quite well that 
 Mr. Brett is in earnest, and, unless you are in
 
 THE DEBUT OF JUISS THOMPSON. 15 
 
 earnest too, you have no business to go on like 
 this." 
 
 ^'Like what?" inquired Marcia, with an air of 
 innocent amazement. 
 
 " You ought not to make him think that you are 
 purposely teasing him, and that you care for him 
 in reality a great deal more than you care for 
 anybody else." 
 
 "I do hope that he is not so disgustingly con- 
 ceited as to think any such thing!" Marcia 
 declared. 
 
 '* I don't know about the conceit; I know that 
 is what I should think if I were in his place. It 
 stands to reason that you wouldn't sit out two or 
 three dances in succession with him, if you didn't 
 either care for him or wish to make him believe 
 that you did." 
 
 Marcia put her head on one side and considered 
 this point for a short space of time before she 
 answered — 
 
 " Well, I like him, you know. He is different 
 from other men ; he scolds me instead of flattering 
 me, and when he is in a good humour he is really 
 rather nice. I don't see why I am bound to refuse 
 his friendship." 
 
 ** But perhaps he hasn't offered you that ? " 
 suggested Laura.
 
 16 MAROIA. 
 
 **He has, though. At least, he kindly gave me 
 to understand that I possessed it, and that I might 
 possibly lose it if I didn't amend my ways." 
 
 " Oh, he has got as far as that, has he ? Well, 
 one knows the true name of such friendship. 
 Perhaps, after all, you won't lose it." 
 
 *' I am sure I shall not deserve to lose it," Marcia 
 replied demurely. 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to say that the above 
 conversation had little influence, one way or the 
 other, upon a young woman whose actions were 
 guided rather by her heart than by her head, and 
 w^ho was disposed to regard the affection of her 
 fellow-creatures as her prerogative. Marcia was 
 a good deal more impressed by some remarks which 
 fell from her hostess a few days later. Good- 
 natured Mrs. Beaumont, who had already married 
 several daughters successfully, and expected to 
 marry the youngest of them without much difficulty 
 in the course of that season or the next, was, for 
 the time being, greatly interested in the orphan 
 who had been committed to her charge. What 
 with her face and her fortune, Marcia ought, she 
 thought, to make a good match, and, although 
 Mr. Brett might fairly be counted eligible, he 
 had certain blemishes to which it seemed only 
 right to call the attention of the inexperienced.
 
 THE DEBUT OF MISS THOMPSON. 17 
 
 She therefore felt it to be her duty to say to 
 Marcia — 
 
 "My dear, I have noticed that you see a great 
 deal of that Mr. Brett, and he is always calling here 
 now, instead of leaving a card at the door, like 
 other people. I have nothing in the world to say 
 against him ; only — he isn't very young, and I 
 should think he might be a little bit exacting. I 
 see that you don't like my speaking so plainly ; 
 but the fact is that a word in season often prevents 
 subsequent unpleasantness, and perhaps you will 
 forgive me when you remember that just at present 
 I am standing in the place of your mother." 
 
 " What do you wish me to say, Mrs. Beaumont ? " 
 asked Marcia, after a moment of hesitation. 
 
 Mrs. Beaumont laughed. *' Not very much," 
 she answered. "I only wished to consult you as 
 to whether I had not better tell them to say ' not 
 at home,' the next time that Mr. Brett calls." 
 
 " Of course you can do just what you choose in 
 your own house, Mrs. Beaumont," said Marcia. 
 
 "Quite so, my dear ; but this time it is a ques- 
 tion of what you may choose. I don't think that, 
 if I were you, I should choose Mr. Brett. I believe 
 he is pretty well off, and he is certainly clever, and 
 his character is all that it ought to be ; still he is 
 too old for 3'ou and rather too solemn, according 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 18 MABCIA. 
 
 to my notions. Fortunately, he is man of the 
 world enough to take a hint, and probably a very 
 delicate one will suffice to prevent him from 
 troubling you any more." 
 
 Mrs. Beaumont would not have said that if she 
 had understood her protegee better. Marcia was 
 quite certain that she was not in love with Mr. 
 Brett ; but she was equally certain that it would 
 be painful to her to dismiss him, and she never, if 
 she could possibly help it, gave herself pain. So 
 she said — 
 
 " I wouldn't for the world drive any one away 
 from such a pleasant house as this, Mrs. Beaumont. 
 There really is nothing between me and Mr. Brett 
 — nothing at all ! I hope you won't snub him on 
 my account." 
 
 Mrs. Beaumont laughed again and replied, '* Very 
 well, my dear." No girl could be expected to pro- 
 claim her sentiments more distinctly, and if Miss 
 Thompson liked middle-aged lawyers, that, after 
 all, was Miss Thompson's affair. No objection was 
 likely to be raised against this particular lawyer by 
 Miss Thompson's guardians. 
 
 Thus it came to pass that, without any special 
 exertion on his own part, Mr. Brett attained to the 
 position of a recognized suitor.
 
 ( 1^^ ) 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 TWO ENGAGEMENTS. 
 
 Success in life is perhaps more often achieved by 
 those who start without advantages than by those 
 who, being favourably handicapped, have leisure to 
 ask themselves whether the game is worth the 
 candle. At aU events, the men who know that 
 they have only their own talents and industry to 
 rely upon are likely, if they have any ambition, to 
 exert these to the utmost ; and it was doubtless, 
 because he had done so, that Eustace Brett had 
 risen, at a comparatively early age, to the front 
 rank in his profession. The son of a provincial 
 banker, he had declined to join his elder brother 
 George in carrying on the paternal avocations, and 
 had been thought foolish for throwing away such 
 a chance. Possibly he had been foolish, for his 
 brother had become a London banker and a rich 
 man ; yet he had attained to such eminence in the 
 calling of his choice that his brother, like the rest 
 of the world, respected him, and at the time with
 
 20 MAR CIA. 
 
 which we are now concerned, he was making a 
 large annual income. He was, in truth, rather 
 industrious than talented, although experience had 
 enabled him to acquire a knowledge of human 
 nature which stood him in good stead. He believed 
 himself to be an excellent judge of character, as 
 indeed he was, within certain limits. No man can 
 be a judge of what he has not seen, and there are 
 many phases of human nature of which this dis- 
 tinguished lawyer was necessarily ignorant. How- 
 ever, he did not know that, and he would have had 
 to be a much larger-minded man than he was to 
 have even surmised it. He was in all things 
 thoroughly honest and conscientious ; he had, 
 while still young, faced the religious difficulties 
 which honest and conscientious men pretty 
 generally have to face, and had obtained answers 
 which had seemed to him satisfactory from teachers 
 of the Evangelical school; he was now (after 
 passing through this mild form of a common 
 disease) quite at rest in his mind with regard to 
 the problems of a present and future life ; he went 
 twice to church on Sundays and gave away a fair 
 proportion of his professional gains in charity. 
 Evidently, the proper course marked out for him 
 was to persevere in well-doing until he obtained 
 the legal prize which was his due — to marry some
 
 TWO ENGAGEMENTS. 21 
 
 worthy and submissive woman, to die in an honoured 
 old age, and eventually to be deposited in Kensal 
 Green beneath a sufficiently imposing weight of 
 marble. 
 
 But Fate, which laughs at the oldest and gravest 
 of us, had decreed that Mr. Eustace Brett should 
 make himself ridiculous by falling over head and 
 ears in love with a school-girl ; and, as he had 
 never been in love before (possibly he had never 
 had the time), his love was as serious and earnest 
 as everything else about him. He did not think 
 himself ridiculous for loving Marcia Thompson, 
 although he had at the outset great doubts as to 
 whether she would be a suitable wife for him. 
 These doubts were overcome when he had seen 
 more of her, because her conversation convinced 
 him that she had a yielding and affectionate nature ; 
 but, even if he had not reached that happy convic- 
 tion, it would have made no difference, for he loved 
 her, and it would have been as impossible to him 
 as to any other mortal to resign his hopes of win- 
 ning her from considerations of prudence. Now his 
 hopes of winning her were tolerably strong. It may 
 be that, having hitherto obtained everything upon 
 which he had set his heart, he was a trifle more 
 self-reliant than a modest man should have been ; 
 yet he was not wrong when he said to himself that
 
 22 MARCIA. 
 
 she displayed an encouraging willingness to defer 
 to his wishes. She was very young; she liked 
 dancing and flattery and admiration, but she was 
 discriminating enough to distinguish between true 
 gold and mere gilding ; added to which, she could, 
 if she had chosen to do so, very easily have dis- 
 missed a suitor who wearied her. Such was Mr. 
 Brett's analysis of Marcia's character, and, although 
 it was not quite accurate, it did not lack plausi- 
 bility. 
 
 During this period of his life, Eustace Brett 
 managed to get on with an extraordinarily small 
 allowance of sleep. Work had to be done ; but 
 then also balls had to be attended, and naturally 
 there was nothing for it but to take pleasure first 
 and work afterwards — which is not to be recom- 
 mended as a system. He consoled himself with the 
 reflection that it was only temporary. A married 
 man who has professional duties to discharge can- 
 not be expected to go to balls, and a married woman 
 should have other ambitions than that of shining in 
 society. He did his love-making in a quiet, steady, 
 methodical way. He was aware that his age was 
 a little against him, and that he had not a face 
 which could be counted upon to captivate a young 
 girl's fancy ; but he aspired to reach Marcia's heart 
 through her reason, which was, no doubt, some-
 
 TWO ENGAGEMENTS. 23 
 
 what absurd, and yet ^yas perhaps his best 
 chance. 
 
 In obedience to the instructions which she had 
 received, or imagined that she had received, Mrs. 
 Beaumont gave orders that he was to be admitted 
 whenever he called ; and very soon it came to be 
 an understood thing that he might be expected 
 every Sunday afternoon. Possibly that was why 
 Mrs. and Miss Beaumont, being both of them 
 kind-hearted people, happened to go out one 
 Sunday afternoon, and were thoughtful enough 
 to tell the butler that, if Mr. Brett should call, he 
 was to be shown into the drawing-room, where 
 Miss Thompson might entertain him until their 
 return. However that may be, Mr. Brett did call 
 at his accustomed hour, and was at once ushered 
 into the presence of Marcia, who held out her 
 hand to him, without rising from the arm-chair 
 in which she was reclining, and said — 
 
 *'I was wondering whether you would put in 
 an appearance to-day. I am so glad you have, 
 because they have left me all alone, and I don't 
 know what to do with myself." 
 
 Mr. Brett was somewhat given to the use of 
 long and ceremonious phrases. He replied, " I 
 am doubly fortunate in finding you alone, and of 
 being the humble means of providing you with
 
 24 MAR CIA, 
 
 some relief from the monotony of your own com- 
 pany. At the same time," he added gallantly, " it 
 is difficult for me to understand how your company 
 could possibly be monotonous." 
 
 *'You wouldn't," observed Marcia, '^have the 
 slightest difficulty in understanding it if you lived 
 with me." 
 
 ** I should be glad," answered Mr. Brett, *' to be 
 allowed an opportunity of deciding that point by 
 the test of experience ; meanwhile, I venture 
 respectfully to dispute it." 
 
 Marcia thought that in any case it would not 
 take her very long to grow weary of so long-winded 
 a companion, and it will be admitted that she had 
 some reason for her belief. He was always weari- 
 some and heavy when the conversation took that 
 turn, and perhaps he was not without a glimmer- 
 ing of the truth, for he hastened to change it. 
 
 " You look tired. Miss Thompson," he remarked. 
 " Are you beginning to find out that a London 
 season is not only a very fatiguing, but a very 
 monotonous thing ? " 
 
 "I don't think I am," answered Marcia mus- 
 ingly ; " but it isn't quite such fun as I thought 
 it would be. If other people enjoyed it, it would be 
 pleasant enough; the unfortunate thing is that 
 most of them seem to be too stupid to enjoy it."
 
 TWO ENGAGEMENTS, 25 
 
 '' On behalf of the stupid majority," said Mr. 
 Brett, " I beg to assure you that we are less stupid 
 than you think us. We enjoy society under 
 certain conditions ; that is, when it enables us to 
 meet certain individuals." 
 
 ''Oh, I wasn't thinking of tjoul'' returned 
 Marcia, not over-civilly. 
 
 " No ; but I was thinking of you. I am hardly 
 what can be called a society man, but I have liked 
 going into society this year for a reason which you 
 can easily guess." And, as Marcia laughed with- 
 out rejDlying, he resumed presently : " I don't say 
 that I should like it for two years in succession, 
 because my spare time is so limited. I am glad 
 to think that you also have found one season of 
 perpetual racket enough to satisfy you." 
 
 " But indeed I haven't," Marcia declared. '' I 
 should like to have any number of seasons of 
 perpetual racket. I am not like you, you see — 
 my spare time is unlimited." 
 
 "Well, at present perhaps it is; but it will not 
 always be so. Miss Thompson, I know you will 
 not be surprised when I tell you that I love you, 
 and that my dearest wish is to call you my wife. 
 You must have seen that for a long time past ; 
 and what gives me some hope is that you have 
 never discouraged me. I am not a very young
 
 26 MABCIA. 
 
 man; but perhaps it is better to be loved by a 
 man who has passed the age of change : and this, 
 I think, I may say for myself, that if you will 
 intrust your future happiness to me you will not 
 regret it." 
 
 Marcia was considerably taken aback. She had 
 not expected Mr. Brett to make his offer so soon, 
 nor, indeed, had he contemplated doing so when 
 he entered the house. He now sat, with dis- 
 passionate calm, awaiting her reply, which, when 
 it came, was a somewhat ambiguous one. 
 
 ''But, Mr. Brett," she said, ''have you con- 
 sidered what you are doing? I — I don't think I 
 am at all a domestic sort of person." 
 
 He answered, smiling, "My dear Miss Thomp- 
 son, you can't very well know yet what your tastes 
 are. I may be permitted to doubt whether the 
 kind of life that you have been leading lately 
 would not very soon pall upon you. But pray 
 don't think that I should ever wish to exclude you 
 from the society of your friends. I should be 
 very well content to leave the question of excessive 
 gaiety to be decided by circumstances and by your 
 own good sense." 
 
 " And if I were to decide in favour of the exces- 
 sive gaiety ?" 
 
 " I don't think you would; but I am willing to
 
 TWO ENGAGEMENTS. 27 
 
 take the risk. I am williug, in fact, to take any 
 and every risk. Now can you accept me ? " 
 
 She really did not think that she could. She 
 did not love him, yet she was curiously reluctant 
 to dismiss him, and she knew instinctively that 
 he was not the kind of man to give her a chance 
 of reconsidering her refusal. What she would 
 have preferred would have been to keep him hang- 
 ing on for a little longer ; so at length she said, 
 " I can't feel sure that we care enough for one 
 another, Mr. Brett." 
 
 "You may feel sure, so far as I am concerned," 
 he answered quickly. '' I know I have not been 
 an impassioned lover; it is not my way to be 
 impassioned. But the simj^le truth is, that I have 
 never loved any one but you, and never shall love 
 any one else. As for your feelings, I don't ask or 
 expect that they should be very warm towards me 
 just now ; I only hope that they may become so ; 
 and I believe that they will, if absolute devotion 
 on my part can make them so." 
 
 Marcia gazed out through the open window 
 across the blaze of flowers in the balcony, and 
 hesitated. What was there about this grave, 
 pedantic man that attracted her ? Why had she 
 in the course of the last week refused two offers 
 of marriage from men who were younger, probably
 
 28 MARCIA. 
 
 richer and certainly more attractive in the general 
 acceptation of the term ? She could not answer 
 these questions, although the answer was not such 
 a very difficult one to discover. She was drawn 
 towards Eustace Brett, in the first place, because 
 she did not quite understand him ; in the second, 
 because she was a little afraid of him ; and in 
 the third, because she was not a little proud of 
 having captured him. 
 
 " You know what I am," she began, after a long 
 pause. 
 
 *'I believe I do pretty well," he answered 
 smilingly. 
 
 " Well, if you will take me for what I am — but 
 Mrs. Beaumont says you are very exacting." 
 
 " I do not think that you will find me that." 
 
 *' Then, if you are sure you will never expect me 
 to be what I am not " 
 
 The next moment Eustace Brett's thin lips were 
 pressed upon Marcia's forehead, and the moment 
 after that she regretted her precipitancy. She had 
 done a foolish thing, and she was frightened and 
 would have liked to draw back, only she had not 
 the requisite courage. Yet it is not improbable 
 that she would have made her condition of mind 
 apparent to him, and that he would have granted 
 her her release — for, in spite of his solemnity and
 
 TWO ENGAGEMENTS. 29 
 
 priggishness, be was neither an ungenerous man 
 nor a fool — if at this moment Mrs. and Miss Beau- 
 mont had not appeared upon the scene. Their 
 entrance, of course, put an end to the interview, 
 and, after a few minutes, Mr. Brett got up and 
 took his leave. 
 
 Scarcely had he quitted the room when Mrs. 
 Beaumont, who was looking happy and excited, 
 announced that she was the bearer of a piece of 
 news, which she was sure that dear Marcia would 
 be glad to hear. This was nothing less than that 
 Lord Wetherby had proposed to Laura that after- 
 noon and had been accepted. 
 
 "A complete surprise to me," Mrs. Beaumont 
 declared, ''though I dare say it may not be so to 
 you." 
 
 But it was a very great surprise to Marcia, and 
 somehow or other it was not quite as pleasant a 
 one as it should have been. This Lord Wetherby, 
 who was one of the frequenters of the house in 
 Grosvenor Place, but who had never, so far as 
 Marcia's observations had gone, been specially 
 attentive to Laura, was in all respects an excel- 
 lent match. He was young, he was rich, he was 
 by no means bad-looking, and his temper was as 
 good as his manners. Now, Laura was doubtless 
 thoroughly worthy of any matrimonial prize ; still
 
 30 MAE CIA. 
 
 it was a little bit astonishing to hear that she had 
 secured one, and Marcia could not repress a sharp 
 pang of jealousy, together with a sense of personal 
 humiliation. As for making known her own en- 
 gagement, she felt that, for the moment, it would 
 be impossible to do that. What was her distin- 
 guished, but mature and plebeian, lawyer in 
 comparison with this unexceptionable young 
 nobleman ? To proclaim her destiny, after hear- 
 ing what Laura's was to be, would be a descent 
 to positive bathos. 
 
 All these thoughts passed rapidly through her 
 mind, but were not legible upon her face, because 
 she had promptly cast herself into the arms of 
 her friend ; and by the time that the embracings 
 were over she had recovered her outward serenity 
 sufficiently to resume her seat smilingly, and beg 
 to be told all about it. But, although her request 
 was complied with, it may be doubted whether she 
 heard very much of the triumphant paean which 
 good Mrs. Beaumont proceeded to sing. Not until 
 late that night could she make up her mind to 
 confide to Laura that she also was about to 
 become a bride, and the warmth with which she 
 was congratulated seemed to her to be a trifle 
 excessive. 
 
 ''I am so very glad!" Laura exclaimed. ^'I
 
 TWO ENGAGEMENTS. 31 
 
 was sure you cared for him, though you wouldn't 
 admit it." 
 
 " Were you ? " returned Marcia. " Then you 
 
 knew more than I did. More than I know even 
 
 now perhaps," she added, with a smile and a sigh. 
 
 ''But then, my dear Marcia, why in the 
 
 world " 
 
 " Ah, exactly ! that's just what I can't tell you. 
 Well, he seems inclined to let me have my own 
 way, which is some comfort. He said he was pre- 
 pared to take any risk." 
 
 "I hope you won't accept that too literally," 
 said Laura gravely. 
 
 '* Oh, I warned him that I was not a domestic 
 person. I dare say I shall go to more balls than 
 he will care about ; but then of course it will 
 always be open to him to stay at home." 
 
 Laura shook her head, for this did not sound to 
 her like a very hopeful beginning ; but her mother, 
 to whom she subsequently reported Marcia's re- 
 marks, laughed, and did not seem to think much 
 of them. 
 
 ''Marcia is a good girl, and will settle down 
 into a good wife," the experienced matron said. 
 " 1 am rather sorry that she is going to marry a 
 man so much older than herself; but, after all, it 
 is her own choice, and he will certainly be kind
 
 32 MARCIA. 
 
 to her. I should think he was just — and even 
 generous, in his way." 
 
 In the way of money, at all events, Mr. Brett 
 proved himself to be generous ; for he insisted 
 that Marcia's fortune should be settled upon her- 
 self ; and this gave her guardians a good opinion 
 of him. The guardians, indeed, thought that the 
 girl had done quite as well for herself as could be 
 expected. They were not sorry to be relieved of 
 their responsibilities ; they considered that she 
 had shown a discretion beyond her years in select- 
 ing a husband of established reputation and un- 
 blemished character, and they gladly fell in with 
 Mrs. Beaumont's suggestion that the wedding 
 ceremony should be solemnized at the same time 
 and place as that of her daughter and Lord 
 Wetherby. Marcia herself, after the first moment 
 of repentance which has been mentioned, was dis- 
 posed to acquiesce in her lot. She really liked 
 her betrothed, who w^as not always as tedious as 
 he has appeared in the last few pages; he gave 
 her some beautiful presents, he deferred to all 
 her wishes, and seemed sincerely anxious to 
 make her happy. Evidently his love was .of a 
 practical rather than of a demonstrative kind ; 
 but perhaps, under all the circumstances, that 
 was hardly a matter for regret.
 
 TWO ENGAGEMENTS, 33 
 
 So Marcia's first London season, "^hich was 
 also to be her last as a spinster, passed away, 
 and on the eve of the day appointed for the 
 double wedding the two girls renewed the vow of 
 eternal friendship which they had exchanged at 
 school, promising that in the futui'e, as in the 
 past, they would tell one another everything. - 
 
 "Not that you will have much to tell," Marcia 
 remarked. "You adore Lord Wetherby, who 
 adores you, and you will just go on like that until 
 one of you dies. You will be perfectly happy, and 
 do you think you will ever be a little dull ? Xo ; 
 I suppose not." 
 
 "I hope not," answered Laura, "and I hope 
 you will be as happy as we shall." 
 
 "Oh, there's no telling. I may have a dull 
 life or I may have a merry one ; the doubt is what 
 consoles me. Nowadays, when people start for 
 Lidia or Australia, they simply take their pas- 
 sages as if they were getting into a railway 
 carriage. It is safe and comfortable ; but it isn't 
 interesting. In old times, before they undertook 
 such a voyage, they made their wills and took 
 leave of their friends, and there was no certainty 
 at all that they would ever reach their destination. 
 All sorts of exciting adventures might happen to 
 them. They might be wrecked or captui'ed by 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 MARCIA. 
 
 pirates, or fifty things. Now, that is the sort of 
 voyage that I am about to set out upon." 
 
 '* I think I prefer the safety and comfort to the 
 excitement," said Laura. 
 
 " Well, I don't think I do. That is the difference 
 between you and me, my dear."
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 TEN YEARS LATER. 
 
 It is always the unexpected, we are told, which 
 comes to pass ; but perhaps, if this be the case, 
 it is less by reason of the numerous accidents of 
 life than because so few of us have insight or 
 foresight enough to discern probabilities. It was 
 not, for instance, really probable that Marcia's 
 career as the wife of Eustace Brett would be 
 marked by any startling or exciting incidents, 
 although she herself half hoped, half feared, that 
 it would be, and although an unconcerned by- 
 stander might very well have thought the con- 
 ditions favourable for the development of a 
 domestic drama. Here was a husband no longer 
 young, sedate beyond his years and immersed in 
 work during the greater part of the day and night ; 
 here was a wife utterly without experience, eager 
 for admiration and possessed of a face and form 
 which were pretty certain to provoke it ; better
 
 36 MABOIA. 
 
 materials for the construction of the time-honoured 
 tragi-comedy could not be desired. But, as a 
 matter of fact, nothing of the sort was enacted. 
 What happened was what more often than not 
 does happen when such a man marries such a 
 woman. They were not happy together, nor were 
 they particularly unhappy ; he yielded a little and 
 she yielded a little ; they did not quarrel, but they 
 soon became hopelessly estranged, because they 
 had not a single interest in common, and because 
 the deep affection which he had for her was not 
 evidenced in the only way that she could have 
 understood. Of the two he was doubtless the 
 more unhappy ; for he loved his wife, and by the 
 end of a year he had reached the conviction that 
 she did not love him and never would. At the 
 same time, it is only fair to her to say that he had 
 grievously disappointed her, and that he was in 
 a great measure to blame for that. She had 
 imagined him a masterful man, and if he had 
 shown himself masterful and had also been a little 
 less sparing of small endearments, he might 
 possibly have made a conquest of her. But he 
 did not do so. He allowed her to have her own 
 way, while often expressing disapproval of it ; he 
 neither issued commands nor asked favours ; and 
 so they gradually drifted apart until a gulf opened
 
 TEN YEABS LATER. 37 
 
 between them which was all the more impassable 
 because neither of them quite realized its width. 
 
 Marcia sought consolation in society; and it 
 must be admitted that she sought it pretty suc- 
 cessfully. She became very popular ; she enter- 
 tained a good deal, at first on a small scale, 
 afterwards, as her acquaintance increased, more 
 extensively; her beauty developed as she grew 
 older, and she soon acquired the tone and habits 
 of a fashionable woman. Her admirers were many 
 in number ; but they were such admirers as hus- 
 bands do not commonly object to, and if Mr. Brett 
 objected to any of them, he refrained from saying 
 so. To some of her lady friends he did object, 
 but that was in early days. When she had gained 
 a little experience, she found that there were 
 certain houses in which it was as well that she 
 should not be thought to be upon a footing of 
 intimacy, and she wisely avoided those houses. 
 The beautiful Mrs. Brett was commended for her 
 discretion, and indeed it was very necessary that 
 she should be discreet, for her husband rarely 
 accompanied her into the gay world, the press of 
 his avocations rendering it impossible for him to 
 do so. 
 
 He, like Marcia, had to seek for consolation 
 somewhere, and he found it in unremitting labour.
 
 38 M ABC I A. 
 
 Thus he filled up his time and had no leisure for 
 despondency, and made large sums of money, 
 which were spent as soon as made ; for he had a 
 big house in Portland Place, and his wife's parties 
 were expensive. In one sense he may have been 
 wise ; in another he was fatally foolish ; for a 
 system of all work and no play often has results 
 more disastrous than that of mere dulness. The 
 result in poor Mr. Brett's case was a total nervous 
 break-down, accompanied by an illness which for 
 some weeks threatened to end his life. He pulled 
 through ; but he rose from his bed a changed and 
 aged man. The doctors enjoined a long period of 
 absolute rest; so that for six months the house 
 in Portland Place was closed, while its owners 
 wandered through Southern France and Italy. It 
 was a sad journey for them both. They were 
 thrown together more than they had ever been 
 since their marriage, and their lack of mutual 
 sympathy necessarily became accentuated. Eus- 
 tace Brett, who had never learnt how to amuse 
 himself and was too old to learn by that time, was 
 bored to death. He gradually recovered his health 
 to some extent, but he was often suffering, some- 
 times peevish, and always longing for the unwhole- 
 some atmosphere of the law courts. As for 
 Marcia, she would have been miserable enough,
 
 TEN YEARS LATER. 39 
 
 but for the companionship of her only child, a 
 bright-faced boy, whom she adored. She could 
 not be unhappy while she had Willie with her ; 
 and who knows from what perils and temptations 
 and evil thoughts and foolish actions that little 
 black-eyed mortal may not have saved her ? 
 Never, surely, since the world began was there 
 such a dear, good boy I That, at all events, was 
 his mother's opinion, and indeed she might be 
 pardoned for holding it. He was a sturdy little 
 man, and sometimes he got into mischief, like 
 other children ; but he was as brave as a lion, and 
 he told no lies, and he loved his beautiful mother 
 with all his heart. On the other hand, he had no 
 great affection for his father, who alarmed him 
 and did not know what to say to him. 
 
 Eustace Brett returned joyfully to London and 
 work ; but his joy was of brief duration. A very 
 short time sufficed to make it manifest to him that 
 the ambitious dreams which had been nearer to 
 his heart than he had supposed must be laid aside 
 at once and for ever. A competent authority told 
 him as much in plain words. 
 
 " Of com'se, Mr. Brett," said his doctor, '' you 
 can kill yourself if you choose ; you will easily 
 accomplish that in about a year, I should think. 
 But you cannot go on as you are doing now and
 
 40 MAE CIA. 
 
 live. I am far from saying that you are not to 
 use your brain in moderation; only you have 
 overtaxed it, and it will not serve you in the future 
 as it has served you in the past." 
 
 The unfortunate man bowed to a decision which 
 his own sensations confirmed, and went away with 
 a heavy heart. What was to become of him ? He 
 had secret hopes of a judgeship ; but for various 
 reasons these hopes were not realized, and one 
 morning he announced to his wife, in his usual 
 deliberate, unimpassioned voice, that he had been 
 offered the appointment of a London Police-magis- 
 trate, and had accepted the offer. From every 
 point of view, it was a melancholy descent. 
 Marcia had long ceased to take a lively interest 
 in her husband's fame and fortunes, although she 
 had always imagined that he would eventually 
 become one of the Law-officers of the Crown ; but 
 what appealed to her feelings far more than the 
 abandonment of this prospect was the necessity 
 which was now explained to her that they should 
 greatly reduce their style of living. Between 
 them, she and her husband would henceforth be 
 able to make up something over ^93000 a year, 
 which certainly cannot be called poverty; still 
 everything is relative, and they had been accus- 
 tomed to expend every penny of a much larger
 
 TEN YEARS LATER, 41 
 
 income. When Marcia removed herself and her 
 knickknacks from Portland Place to Cornwall 
 Terrace, Eegent's Park, her sensations were akin 
 to those which a patriotic emigrant may be sup- 
 posed to experience on bidding his native land 
 good night. She could not believe that anybody 
 ''in society" could dwell in the Regent's Park, 
 and that small section of the society of London 
 into which she had found her way seemed to her 
 to be the only society worth living in. Of course 
 she was mistaken, because there are plenty of 
 charming people quite outside the fashionable 
 world; yet her mistake was not unnatm-al, for 
 when all has been said against it that can be said 
 (and that is a good deal), the smart society of 
 London remains, upon the whole, the pleasantest, 
 the best-bred, and the easiest society in the 
 modern civilized world. Marcia, who, like many 
 of its members, did not belong to it by right of 
 birth, had assimilated its habits, and the thought 
 of severing herself from it caused her to shed 
 some bitter tears. 
 
 Yet the new manner of life did not prove to be so 
 unlike the old one as she had feared that it would 
 be. She was too popular to be allowed to drop 
 out of sight, and her change of address caused no 
 sensible diminution in the number of daily invita-
 
 42 MAE CIA, 
 
 tions which she received. It was her husband 
 who was forgotten, and whose existence was not 
 always recognized upon the invitation cards. For 
 that matter, he seemed very willing to be forgotten, 
 and even when he was asked to dinner, he generally 
 requested his wife to send an excuse on his behalf. 
 One evening, some ten years after her marriage, 
 Marcia was going out to dine without Mr. Brett, 
 who had, as usual, declined to accompany her. 
 She was bound for the house of her old friend 
 Lady Wetherby, and she looked forward to a plea- 
 sant evening, because Lady Wetherby gave nice 
 little dinners, and always took some pains in as- 
 sorting her guests. In Lady Wetherby 's case the 
 unexpected had not occurred. She was a happy, 
 prosperous woman ; she and her husband were the 
 best of friends ; she had two children, a boy and 
 a girl ; she discharged her social duties with ease 
 and success, and she was interested in many chari- 
 table undertakings. Whether she and Marcia^had 
 adhered strictly to their engagement that they 
 would tell one another everything may be doubted 
 — after a certain age, one perceives the difficulty of 
 carrying out such pledges, — but their friendship 
 had stood the test of time, and when Mrs. Brett 
 was attacked (for indeed Mrs. Brett was far too 
 handsome to escape attack), it was not in the
 
 TEN YEARS LATEB. 43 
 
 presence of Lady Wetherby that any one ventured 
 to make insinuations against her. It was a 
 somewhat stout and matronly personage who 
 embraced Marcia on her arrival in St. George's 
 Place, and made some perfunctory inquiries about 
 the health of the absent Police-magistrate : Lady 
 Wetherby, like other people, had learnt to regard 
 Mr. Brett as more or less of a cypher. About 
 a dozen guests were assembled in her pretty, 
 dimly-lighted drawing-room, and with most of 
 these Marcia was already acquainted. She did 
 not, however, remember to have met before a 
 young man whom her hostess presently led up to 
 her and introduced as Mr. Archdale. 
 
 " Mr. Archdale tells me that he hasn't the plea- 
 sure of knowing you," Lady Wetherby said; ''but 
 you must know him very well by name." 
 
 "The Mr. Archdale?" inquired Marcia, with a 
 smile, after bowing to the stranger. 
 
 "Oh, I suppose so," he replied, shrugging his 
 shoulders and laughing. ''At least, I am the man 
 who paints the careful little pictures — which is 
 probably what you mean." 
 
 "I am not an art critic," said Marcia; "but 
 I like your pictures better than anybody else's, 
 and if they are carefully painted, isn't that au 
 additional merit ? "
 
 44 MARCIA. 
 
 *'0h, they are carefully painted," answered the 
 young man. " I take a lot of time and trouble 
 about them ; but people who are said to be judges 
 tell me that they aren't first-rate, and I can well 
 believe it. However, they have brought me fame 
 and money ; so that I ought to be contented. In 
 point of fact I am contented." 
 
 He certainly looked so. His perfectly chiselled 
 features, his sleepy blue eyes, with their long dark 
 lashes, the pose of his small head, the smile that 
 perpetually hovered about his lips and the slight 
 drawl with which he spoke — all expressed a lazy 
 satisfaction with the world into which he had been 
 born, and which in truth had so far brought him 
 a great deal more happiness than discomfort. He 
 wore a short peaked beard and a moustache which 
 was twisted upwards ; his crisp, curly brown hair 
 was cut close, and his clothes fitted him very 
 nicely. Evidently he was a bit of a dandy as 
 well as a celebrated artist. Marcia at once took 
 a fancy to him — she was not peculiar in that 
 respect — and was glad when he told her that he 
 had recived instructions to conduct her to the 
 dining-room. 
 
 ''And now," said she, by way of opening the 
 conversation, after they had taken their places at 
 the table, "I want you to improve my mind a
 
 TEX YEAES LATER. 45 
 
 little with regard to art. It isn't every day that 
 I get the chance of sitting beside a genius." 
 
 " If you will promise not to betray me, Mrs. 
 Brett," he replied, ''I will confess to you that you 
 haven't that privilege to-night. I can di-aw pretty 
 well, and I know something about colour : more 
 can't be said for me. It is true that the public 
 and the newspapers say a good deal more, but that 
 is only because they know no better," 
 
 " Is that the modesty of true greatness or only 
 an unworthy attempt to extract comi)liments ? " 
 asked Marcia. 
 
 ''It's neither, it's the unvarnished truth. I'm 
 afraid I can't say anything that is likely to 
 improve your mind, because my own is of the 
 earth, earthy. I love everything beautiful" — here 
 he suddenly raised his eyes for a moment to his 
 neighbour's face — " and I suppose that is why 
 I am a painter, but when my brother-artists begin 
 to talk transcendentalism, I'm out of it. I simply 
 don't know what they mean — I don't feel that I 
 have any high mission ; I don't want to elevate 
 the human race ; the human race in its present 
 imperfect condition is good enough for the likes of 
 me. As far as I know myself, I want nothing 
 except to have a good time while I can. Let us 
 eat and drink, for to-morrow we die."
 
 46 MABCIA. 
 
 Marcia assumed that he did not quite mean 
 ■what he said; yet his sentiments did not fail to 
 find an echo in her own heart, and indeed he was 
 so handsome that he might have said far worse 
 things without shocking her. She, too, loved 
 beauty : she, too, had a very great desire to enjoy 
 herself ; and although she went to church regularly 
 and accepted the doctrines of Christianity in a 
 theoretical sort of way, she was far from thinking 
 the world as bad a place as some Christians would 
 have us believe it. She and her companion had 
 a long talk about art, in the course of which they 
 contrived to say many things altogether irrelevant 
 to their subject, and to become very well acquainted 
 with one another. When the ladies left the room, 
 and Lady Wetherby asked her how she had got on 
 with her partner, she answered — 
 
 **I think he is quite charming. He isn't a bit 
 conceited or shoppy, and he seems to like all the 
 things that I like." 
 
 *' I wouldn't answer for his not being conceited," 
 returned Lady Wetherby, laughing; ''but he 
 doesn't appear to be shoppy, and I can quite 
 understand that your tastes agree. He is coming 
 to stay with us in the country later on. Wetherby 
 has given him an order to paint some panels for 
 us, and I dare say he will take a long time about
 
 TEX YEARS LATER. 47 
 
 it ; for he is a very idle youth, notwithstanding his 
 cleverness." 
 
 "Is he well off?" Marcia asked. 
 
 ** Well, yes, I believe he has a little money ; and, 
 of course, now that he is the fashion, he gets long 
 prices for his pictures. For his own sake it is 
 unfortunate that he. isn't obliged to work harder." 
 
 '' But for the sake of other people it is fortunate 
 that he sometimes has time to dine with his 
 friends," observed Marcia. And she thought she 
 would like to ask this interesting young artist, who 
 so little resembled other artists, to dine in Cornwall 
 Terrace. 
 
 However, she could not do that without leave ; 
 for her husband, who was becoming more and more 
 of a recluse, detested strange faces. Besides, Mr. 
 Archdale disappointed her a little by making no 
 effort to join her when he appeared with the other 
 men. She noticed that while ostensibly conversing 
 with the two ladies behind whose chairs he had 
 seated himself, he was surreptitiously sketching 
 something or somebody upon his shirt-sleeve, and 
 when at length the groups broke up and he slowly 
 approached her, she said— 
 
 *' If it isn't an impertinent request, might I look 
 at your cuff, Mr. Archdale ? " 
 
 '* Oh, certainly," he answered, laughmg ; " but
 
 48 MABCIA. 
 
 1 have made a mess of it. I dare say you won't 
 guess whose profile this is meant to represent." 
 
 She had not, however, any difficulty in recog- 
 nizing the subject of the outline submitted to her, 
 and in truth the portrait was not an unflattering 
 one. " I should be very ungrateful if I complained 
 of that," she remarked smilingly. ''Is it a habit 
 of yours to amuse yourself in this way when you 
 dine out?" 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 " Too dangerous," he answered. *' Still, once in 
 a while, I venture to run the risk, because there are 
 chances which one would never forgive one's self 
 for losing. You see, Mrs. Brett, for anything that 
 I know, this first meeting of ours may be our 
 last." 
 
 " Oh, I hope not," said Marcia, in her friendly 
 way — and it was this friendly way of hers which 
 had won her such a number of friends. " In 
 London one can generally meet people whom one 
 wants to meet, I think. Besides, if you care 
 to call upon me, I shall be very glad to see you 
 any Wednesday afternoon, when I am always at 
 home." 
 
 She gave him her address, which he wrote down 
 upon his shirt-cuff, beneath her portrait, and soon 
 after that she went away. Archdale, who was
 
 TEX YEARS LATER. 49 
 
 upon a footing of intimacy with his host and 
 hostess, lingered until the other guests had 
 departed, when he said — 
 
 " Your friend is simply divine ! Who in the 
 world is she ? " 
 
 ^' Oh, she is human enough," answered Lord 
 Wetherby, with a laugh. '* She is the wife of the 
 beak, and she is about the most confirmed flirt that 
 I know ; and if I were you, my young friend, I 
 wouldn't attempt to captivate her, because that is 
 a little game at which she can give you points and 
 a beating." 
 
 ''Don't believe him, Mr. Archdale," struck in 
 Lady Wetherby, ''he knows nothing at all about 
 it. Marcia Brett, who is one of my oldest friends, 
 is no more a flirt than I am. It isn't her fault that 
 her cantankerous old husband chooses to shut him- 
 self up, and it isn't her fault that she is beautiful, 
 or that men who ought to know better fall in love 
 with her. I hope you are not going to be so silly, 
 Mr. Archdale. If you are, and if you imagine that 
 she will ever care a straw about you, you will be 
 disappointed, I am afraid." 
 
 " My dear Lady Wetherby," replied the young 
 artist, "the mischief is already done; I am 
 desperately in love with her. Oh, you needn't 
 look so shocked ; there's nothing wrong about it ; 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 MAE CIA. 
 
 my love is purely platonic, and I haven't the 
 slightest hope of its being returned. All the same, 
 I hope the beak isn't a jealous husband." 
 
 Lady Wetherby did not smile. She knew that 
 this young man, whose familiarity her good-natured 
 husband had encouraged to an extent of which she 
 did not entirely approve, had the reputation of 
 being a lady-killer, and she also knew that Marcia, 
 if not a flirt, was not always so circumspect as her 
 friends could have wished her to be. 
 
 ''I don't think Mr. Brett is jealous," she said 
 
 coldly. " At any rate, I am sure that he has no 
 
 reason to be so." 
 
 Lord Wetherby stuck his hands in his pockets 
 
 and walked up and down the room, whistling 
 
 softly. 
 
 " Come and smoke a cigar before you go, Arch- 
 
 dale," said he. "Laura is such a good woman 
 
 herself that she thinks other women must be like 
 
 her. They ain't, though."
 
 ( ^1 ) 
 
 CHAPTER lY. 
 
 MAECIA S SON. 
 
 LoKD ^YETHERBY was pei'haps a little unfair in 
 describing Marcia Brett as a flirt ; yet he ^as not 
 alone in holding that opinion of her. Of course all 
 depends upon the meaning which may be attached 
 to the word "flirtation; " but a pretty woman who 
 prefers the society of the other sex to that of her 
 own can hardly expect to escape censure, and 
 Marcia had not escaped it, in spite of her discretion. 
 It may be that she had been discreet for the simple 
 reason that no man had as yet succeeded in touch- 
 ing her heart ; but several had made the attempt, 
 and with a great many she had had periods of close 
 intimacy. She frankly confessed that she liked 
 men, and that she did not, as a general rule, like 
 women. Of the latter, some had scandalized her, 
 some had deceived her, while almost all had made 
 her acquainted with the little spites and meannesses 
 which are too apt to disfigure feminine nature. 
 *' With men," she was wont to say, ''you know at 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILUNOrj
 
 62 MARCIA, 
 
 least where you are. They can't deceive you, and 
 they very seldom try. But I have never yet met a 
 woman, except Laura Wetherby, of whom I should 
 dare to make a friend." 
 
 With ladies, therefore, experience had taught her 
 to be upon her guard; but in other respects she 
 was little changed at the age of twenty-eight from 
 what she had been at eighteen. She had the same 
 warm affections, the same intense longing to be 
 loved, or at all events liked, the same youthful 
 capacity for enjoying herself. And what change 
 there was in her appearance was (as she perceived 
 with joy from a daily and careful study of her 
 features in the looking-glass), rather in the nature 
 of an improvement. She had had some troubles 
 and anxieties ; but these had passed away without 
 leaving any of the indelible traces by which the 
 countenances of nervous persons are so often 
 scored ; she certainly did not look her age, and 
 there seemed to be ground for hope that she had 
 still many years of juvenility before her. 
 
 As she was being driven homewards in her 
 brougham, she experienced that pleasant feeling of 
 anticipation and excitement which the acquisition 
 of a new acquaintance always gave her. She knew 
 very well that she had produced an impression 
 upon Mr. Archdale, and he, on his side, had pro-
 
 MABCIA'S SON. 53 
 
 duced a certain impression upon her. He v^as, at 
 any rate, something of a novelty. The young men 
 whom she had hitherto taken up and invited to 
 dinner, and associated with until she and they had 
 grown mutually tired of one another, had been 
 very nice in theii* way, but had somewhat lacked 
 variety. They had all belonged to the class which 
 shoots in autumn, hunts in winter, attends the 
 principal races in summer, and is more or less in 
 London at every season of the year. She had at 
 one time tried to make something of the gentlemen 
 learned in the law whom Mr. Brett occasionally 
 brought home with him, but had found them quite 
 impossible. She had therefore been forced to fall 
 back upon the well-dressed youths whom her 
 husband, without much discrimination, stigmatized 
 as " mashers," and whom he regarded with ill- 
 concealed aversion. Marcia regretted this ; be- 
 cause, although Mr. Brett was not a jealous man, 
 it made her uncomfortable to see him looking so 
 cruelly bored ; added to which, he would not permit 
 any addition to be made to her visiting-list without 
 his previous sanction. 
 
 Well, anyhow he would like Mr. Archdale, she 
 hoped. He could not call that eminent artist a 
 masher, or speak of him as an utterly useless 
 member of the community. If there was one
 
 54: MAE CIA. 
 
 thing that Eustace respected it was intellect ; and 
 she herself was beginning to think that a little 
 display of intellect would be welcome, by way of 
 a change. She really wished to please her husband 
 when she could ; and so, after reaching Cornwall 
 Terrace, she entered his study with a smile upon 
 her lips ; for this time, at all events, she would be 
 able to tell him that she had made a new friend 
 from whose conversation some improvement might 
 be derived. 
 
 He was sitting at his big writing-table, with a 
 shaded lamp by his side and a pile of books and 
 notes before him. At the sound of the opening 
 door he turned his head, and, on catching sight of 
 his wife, sighed rather wearily. He had become 
 quite an old man ; the little hair that he had left 
 was grey, and his thin cheeks were deeply wrinkled. 
 '*Well," he said, "have you had a pleasant 
 evening? " 
 
 This was what he invariably said when she came 
 in, and the eternal question generally irritated her, 
 not only because it was rather silly in itself, but 
 because she knew that he never paid any attention 
 to her reply. On the present occasion she made 
 no reply at all, but said: "How tired you look! 
 Why do you sit up working like this ? " 
 
 " I am not more tired than usual," he answered
 
 MAS CIA'S SON. 55 
 
 peevishly ; " nor am I working. I was only looking 
 up the authorities upon a point which was raised 
 to-day in the Court of Queen's Bench, and which — 
 but you wouldn't understand." 
 
 He pushed away his books and papers, with 
 another sigh, turned his chair so as to face that 
 in which she had seated herself, and passed his 
 handover his forehead. "Let me see," he said ; 
 " where have you been to-night ? Oh, to Lady 
 Wetherby's, wasn't it? I sujDpose you met the 
 usual nonentities ? " 
 
 "Yes," answered Marcia, yawning and drawing 
 off her long gloves ; " most of them were what you 
 call nonentities. May I have something to drink, 
 if I am not interrupting you ? " 
 
 She was interrupting him, and he looked as if 
 he thought so; but he replied politely, " Xot at 
 all," and rang the bell for Apollinaris. 
 
 " There was one rather brilliant exception, 
 though," Marcia resumed; "Mr. Ai'chdale, the 
 artist, you know." 
 
 "Archdale? Oh, yes, the man who apes Meis- 
 sonnier in a humble way. Yes ; I have been told 
 to admire the pictures that he exhibits. So he 
 was brilliant, was he ? " 
 
 " Not offensively so. He seemed to be pleasant 
 and clever, and I thought of asking him to dinner 
 some night, if you don't mind."
 
 56 MAR CIA. 
 
 " More dinner-parties ! " sighed Mr. Brett. *' We 
 have had four in the last fortnight." 
 
 "Yes ; but three of them were in one week, and 
 it is impossible to go on accepting everything and 
 doing nothing in return." 
 
 *' Oh, of course," said Mr. Brett, " if you start 
 upon the presumption that everything must be 
 accepted " 
 
 Marcia gave her shoulders a little impatient 
 jerk. All this had been said so often before, and 
 she had explained so many times that one cannot 
 pick and choose, that one must either accept 
 hospitality or refuse it ! Her husband, for his 
 part, was fully aware of the futility of the protests 
 which he could not refrain from making. He was 
 not convinced that it was necessary to entertain as 
 much as they did, and the expense of their enter- 
 tainments had become a source of anxiety to him ; 
 yet, since his wife's income was now equivalent to 
 his own, he did not feel justified in prohibiting her 
 from spending it as she pleased. After a pause, 
 he said — 
 
 '' If Lady Wetherby receives Mr. Archdale, that 
 may be taken as a guarantee of respectability, I 
 suppose. By all means ask him. He cannot be 
 more inane than the others, and he may possibly 
 be less so."
 
 MABCIA'S SOX. 57 
 
 " He is not in the least like the others," Marcia 
 declared, " and if only you could divest your mind 
 of the prejudice that you always have against any 
 friend of mine, I believe you ^ould find him an 
 agreeable companion. That is 'why I wanted to 
 cultivate his acquaintance, because, after all, I 
 would rather invite people to the house whom you 
 could get on with, if I did but know where to find 
 them." 
 
 " The difficulty, no doubt," observed Mr. Brett, 
 with a faint smile, "is to find people who can get 
 on with me. But perhaps if Mr. Aix-hdale decides 
 to honour us with his company, it will not be for 
 my sake ; so that my unsociability is of no great 
 consequence." 
 
 " I don't see why you should determine in 
 advance to be unsociable," said Marcia. 
 
 "You mean, perhaps, that you don't see why 
 I should recognize an indisputable fact. But the 
 recognition of facts has always been my strong 
 point, whereas it is scarcely yours." 
 
 After this there was another long pause, during 
 which Mr. Brett looked wistfully at his books, 
 while Marcia sipped her Apollinaris meditatively. 
 She knew that he wanted to get rid of her ; but for 
 some reason or other she felt more anxious to 
 conciliate him that night than usual ; so she
 
 58 MARC I A, 
 
 lingered on, and at length — for she could think of 
 nothing better to say — she asked, " What have 
 you been doing all day, Eustace ? " 
 
 '* What do I do every day ? " he returned. " I 
 sat in Court until the usual hour ; then I went to 
 the club for a little ; then I came home and dined 
 by myself " 
 
 " That was your own choice," interrupted 
 Marcia. 
 
 " Of course it was my own choice. And since 
 dinner I have been reading and writing." 
 
 " It does seem to me to be a great pity that you 
 should choose to lead such a life," Marcia said. 
 ** You don't like it, it doesn't agree with you, and 
 I don't believe it would agree with anybody. If 
 you had gone to the Wetherby's with me to-night 
 they would have been very pleased to see you." 
 
 " You think so ? I have my doubts as to that ; 
 but I have no doubt at all that it wouldn't have 
 pleased me to see them." 
 
 " Yet you profess to have such an admiration 
 and esteem for Laura Wetherby." 
 
 " I think Lady Wetherby is an excellent woman 
 who performs her duties unexceptionably. In her 
 position it is one of her duties to give dinner- 
 parties. But it is not one of mine to attend 
 them."
 
 MARCIA'S SON. 59 
 
 ** Are you so certain of that ? Some people 
 would say that it is a husband's duty to be seen 
 at least occasionally with his wife." 
 
 Mr. Brett's pale cheeks turned paler, which was 
 always a sign of anger with him. *' I thought," 
 he replied coldly, ''that we had long ago come to 
 an understanding upon that point. I have no 
 inclination for society, and if I had, my health 
 would not allow me to turn night into day. Under 
 the circumstances, I might perhaps have told you 
 that I did not wish you to go out without me, and 
 requested you to make some sacrifice of your tastes 
 to mine; but, for various reasons, I thought it 
 right that you should be free to decide for yourself 
 in the matter. I have not quarrelled with your 
 decision ; but the case will be somewhat altered if 
 I am to understand that you expect me to station 
 myself at the top of a staii'case all night while you 
 are dancing." 
 
 " You know very well that I never said anything 
 of the sort, Eustace," returned Marcia, with tears 
 of indignation in her eyes. '' I never thought of 
 asking you to go to balls ; but I do think that if 
 you would sometimes consent- to dine out, you 
 would be a little less — less morose and disagreeable 
 than you are now." 
 
 "For Heaven's sake!" exclaimed Mr. Brett
 
 60 MABCIA. 
 
 irritably, " let us avoid the use of uncivil adjectives. 
 If your suggestion was prompted by a desire for 
 my mental or physical advantage, I am really very 
 much obliged to you, though I doubt the ef&cacy 
 of the means prescribed; but what you said was 
 that it was my duty to be seen with you." 
 
 " I said some people might think so ; but it 
 doesn't matter. I suppose you will go your way 
 and I shall go mine until the end of the chapter. 
 Probably that is the best plan." 
 
 ''I confess," said Mr. Brett, leaning back in his 
 chair and folding his hands, "that it appears to 
 me to be the only practicable plan." 
 
 Marcia left the room, vexed and disheartened, 
 for she hated to be repulsed; yet, underlying the 
 mortification of which she was conscious, there 
 was a certain unacknowledged feeling of relief. 
 She had done her best — she was always doing her 
 best ; she had made advances and, as usual, they 
 had been disdained. If, some day or other, con- 
 sequences should ensue which Eustace might not 
 like, he would only have his own obstinate hostility 
 to thank. She did not say this to herself, but the 
 thought was in her heart all the same. 
 
 On the landing at the top of the stairs she met 
 a short, middle-aged lady in a flannel dressing- 
 gown, who said apologetically, *'I am afraid we
 
 MAB CIA'S SON. 61 
 
 are very late to-night. The truth is that Willie 
 set his heart upon seeing you when you came in, 
 and nothing would induce him to go to sleep. So 
 I have been reading to him." 
 
 This was Miss Wells, the governess to whom 
 Willie's education had been entrusted. She was 
 a worthy, kind-hearted woman, devoted to her 
 charge, who was devoted to her, but who tyran- 
 nized over her. Mr. Brett thought her a fool — as 
 possibly she may have been — and Mrs. Brett loved 
 her because she loved the boy, but was sometimes 
 a little jealous of her. Perhaps she was a little 
 jealous of her now, for she said — 
 
 " Oh, Miss Wells, you ought not to keep him 
 awake so long. Of course, I can never tell whether 
 I shall get home early or late." 
 
 *'He is fast asleep now," Miss Wells answered. 
 ''I tried him with Hans Andersen's Fairy tales; 
 but that was no use at all, so I fell back upon 
 Kussell's ' History of Modern Europe,' which I 
 have seldom known to fail. He didn't see you 
 before you went out to-night," she added, by way 
 of excusing herself and him. 
 
 The excuse seemed to be considered sufficient ; 
 for Marcia smiled and wished Miss Wells good 
 night without further remonstrance. She opened 
 the door of her son's room softly, and stole in,
 
 62 MABCIA. 
 
 shading her bedroom candle with her hand. The 
 boy had tossed the bedclothes off him; he was 
 lying with one arm under his head and the other 
 outstretched by his side, the palm of the hand 
 upwards; his closed eyes displayed to advantage 
 the long dark lashes of which his mother was so 
 proud; his rounded cheeks had the faint flush 
 which slumber brings in childhood; his parted 
 lips were curved into the smile which seldom 
 deserted them, whether he was awake or asleep. 
 "Willie Brett was now nine years old, and it was 
 certain that he would have to be sent to school 
 before long, though his mother could not bear to 
 think of that. He was hardly to be called a pretty 
 boy, nor was there much prospect of his growing 
 up into a handsome man; nevertheless he had a 
 charming face, and one person in the world, at 
 least, was prepared to maintain against all comers 
 that no conceivable change in him could partake 
 of the nature of an improvement. 
 
 Marcia stood gazing at him in rapt admiration 
 for some minutes, and as she looked, she forgot 
 all about the stern, unsympathetic student of law 
 downstairs, all about the fascinating Mr. Archdale, 
 and all about her numerous engagements for the 
 morrow, which, as a general rule, claimed her last 
 waking thoughts. She was quite sure that she
 
 MAE CIA'S SON, 63 
 
 did not really care for anything or anybody a 
 tenth part as much as she did for her boy ; and it 
 may be that she was not mistaken, for when one 
 thinks of the person whom one loves best, it is 
 customary and allowable to withdraw one's self from 
 the competition. Well, she could not go to bed 
 without giving Willie one kiss ; so she bent over 
 him and just touched his warm cheek with her 
 lips. That should not have been enough to dis- 
 turb anybody's slumbers; but perhaps his were 
 not very deep, for he stuTed, stretched himself, 
 yawned, and finally opened his eyes. He winked 
 and blinked for a second or two; then the smile 
 upon his lips grew broader, he broke into a low 
 laugh, and said, as if imparting a piece of informa- 
 tion which might possibly astonish his hearer, 
 " I've been asleep." 
 
 "Yes, and you must go to sleep again, dear," 
 his mother answered. "It's the middle of the 
 night, and I didn't mean to wake you. I'm going 
 away now." 
 
 " Oh no, don't go," pleaded the boy, who had 
 struggled into a sitting postui-e ; "if you do, I 
 shall lie awake for ever so long. Stay just five 
 minutes and talk." He added, after a brief 
 scrutiny of her : " How pretty you look ! " 
 
 "Do you think so?" said Marcia, smiling back
 
 64 MAR CIA. 
 
 at him and letting her cloak fall from her' shoulders, 
 so as to show her diamonds. 
 
 "You are always pretty, Mummy," answered the 
 boy ; " don't you know you are ? Come and sit 
 down close beside me and tell me about the dinner. 
 It was a dinner to-night, wasn't it ? " 
 
 Marcia nodded and did as she was requested, 
 taking the boy's warm hands in her own, which 
 had grown a little chilly in the course of that 
 interview with her husband. 
 
 " Nice people ? " Willie inquired. 
 
 ''Oh, pretty well — not particularly," his mother 
 replied. "Yes, there was one whom I rather 
 liked." 
 
 "What was his name?" asked the juvenile 
 inquisitor ; and it was a little significant that he 
 was in no doubt as to the sex of the individual 
 who had been so fortunate as to please his mother. 
 
 " He was a Mr. Archdale, an artist," Marcia 
 answered. " Upon second thoughts, I'm not sure 
 that I did like him so very much. I don't often 
 meet artists, so that he was a novelty; but he 
 hadn't a great deal to say about art." 
 
 "Artists are rather muffs, aren't they?" sug- 
 gested Willie. "What did he say? Did he tell 
 you how pretty you looked ? " 
 
 "No," answered Marcia, laughing, "he didn't
 
 MARCIA'S SON. 65 
 
 say anything so nice as that ; it is only you who 
 always say nice things, Willie. Oh dear ! I wish 
 we could go away to some, desert island — just you 
 and I — and never be heard of again." 
 
 "I shouldn't mind," observed Willie medita- 
 tively; "but I expect you would get tired of it 
 after a bit. Oh yes, you would want new dresses, 
 and — and new people to talk to, and all that." 
 
 "I suppose I should," agreed Marcia, sighing. 
 "Well, we mustn't talk anymore nonsense now. 
 Good night, my darling ! " 
 
 She threw her arms round the boy and kissed 
 him again and again. Then she held him at a 
 little distance from her, looking into his eyes. 
 There were tears in her own; though she could 
 not have explained the cause of them. 
 
 " Wilhe," she said, "do you love me best in the 
 world — quite best ? " 
 
 " Quite best," Willie replied unhesitatingly. 
 
 " Better than Miss Wells ? " 
 
 He laughed at the absurdity of the question. 
 "Oh, Miss Wells! She is an old dear; but she 
 isn't you, Mummy." 
 
 Marcia smiled ; but her smile soon faded away. 
 " How dreadful it is," she exclaimed, " to think 
 that a day will come — must come — when you won't 
 love me best any longer ! I shan't be * Mummy ' 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 66 MAR CIA. 
 
 then, and I shan't be pretty ; I shall be ' Mother ' 
 and an ugly old woman, from whom you will 
 conceal all sorts of things. It hasn't come yet, 
 though. Perhaps, after all, I may die before it 
 comes." 
 
 She left the room without waiting to hear Willie's 
 protestations. It is useless to protest against the 
 immutable laws of human nature, and although 
 we sometimes try to persuade ourselves that they 
 may be suspended in our particular case, we always 
 know in our hearts that they cannot be.
 
 CHAPTER V, 
 
 MR. AECHDALE IS SATISFIED. 
 
 Cecil Archdale was frequently spoken of by his 
 friends as the most fortunate man in England. 
 They had reasons -which seemed to be sufficient for 
 calling him so, and he had, at any rate, one great 
 advantage over the general run of fortunate men in 
 that he fully recognized and appreciated the fact of 
 his good fortune. All his life long he had had 
 things very much his own way ; he had never 
 wished for anything without getting it, so that he 
 had come to regard immunity from disappointment 
 as a sort of prerogative and took it for granted that 
 he would succeed in any enterprise which he might 
 think it worth while to undertake. No doubt this 
 happy self-confidence had contributed not a little 
 to his unvarying success. Handsome, pleasant- 
 mannered, and always at his ease, he had readily 
 made his way into the best society obtainable, 
 wherever he had been ; he had been universally 
 liked and a good deal loved; as he had no near
 
 68 MARCIA. 
 
 relations nor anybody's convenience to consult, 
 save his own, he had wandered over many foreign 
 lands and had derived much amusement from his 
 cosmopolitan experiences. It is true that he had 
 habitually lived beyond his income and that at the 
 end of eight years he had very nearly exhausted 
 the comfortable little fortune which he had inherited 
 from his father; but just as this was becoming a 
 source of anxiety to him he had turned his artistic 
 talents to account and had achieved a reputation 
 which would have astonished nobody more than 
 himself, had he not felt persuaded that this was 
 due rather to the influence of his lucky star than 
 to his skill or industry. 
 
 Nevertheless, he was skilful. He was also indus- 
 trious, in the sense that he took great pains with 
 his work and brought exquisite accuracy to bear 
 upon the finish of details ; but in no other sense. 
 He was constitutionally indolent ; he hated to begin 
 anything new, and his fellow-labourers produced, 
 on an average, half-a-dozen pictures in the time 
 that it took him to produce one. Very likely this 
 deliberation may have enhanced the price and even 
 the value of his handiwork ; but it was not for that 
 reason that he spent so many hours contentedly in 
 smoking cigarettes and doing nothing. He was 
 very fond of doing nothing — fonder, perhaps, of
 
 MR. AB CUD ALE IS SATISFIED. 69 
 
 that than of anything else in the world, except 
 making love. The latter amusement is doubtless 
 agreeable to the generality of mortals ; only for 
 most of us its delights are considerably marred by 
 reason of the uncertainties and anxieties by which 
 it is beset. With such drawbacks the fortunate 
 Cecil Archdale had no acquaintance. The women 
 with whom he fell in love invariably fell in love 
 with him, and what was better still was that his 
 numerous philanderings never led to serious or 
 painful consequences. " These things die a natural 
 death," he was wont to say. " It seems a pity that 
 they should : but perhaps it would be a still greater 
 pity if they didn't. I can't imagine a more awful 
 fate than having to spend one's life with a person 
 whom one had once adored and couldn't manage to 
 adore any longer." 
 
 By good luck or good guidance, he had steered 
 clear of any such fate. Moreover, he had steered 
 clear of conceit or affectation ; and this was gene- 
 rally held to be creditable to him. If he believed 
 himself to be irresistible, his belief had the support 
 of a tolerably large experience. In truth he had 
 little feeling of personal vanity in the matter ; only 
 a deeply rooted conviction that it was not his 
 destiny to love in vain. He was perfectly sincere 
 when he told Lady Wetherby that he had fallen
 
 70 MARCIA. 
 
 desperately in love with her friend Mrs. Brett ; he 
 was also quite sure that a delicate betrayal of his 
 sentiments to Mrs. Brett herself would do neither 
 her nor him any harm. His passions were too 
 ephemeral for any harm to come of them. What 
 usually came of them was a pleasant interview or 
 two, a few enjoyable dances, perhaps the inter- 
 change of certain phrases which were not meant to 
 be taken too literally, and then a gradual cooling 
 off, brought about by the discovery of a substitute. 
 
 One afternoon, soon after Lady Wetherby's 
 dinner-party, he was reclining upon a divan in the 
 comfortable chambers near St. James's Street where 
 he had set up his studio, and was expatiating to a 
 friend of his upon the charms of the lady who had 
 captivated him. 
 
 " It isn't only that she is beautiful," he was 
 saying ; *' beauty isn't really rare, and when all is 
 said and done, it is never mere beauty of face or 
 form that appeals to one. But Mrs. Brett is rare, 
 distinctly rare. She is a woman of the world to 
 her finger-tips ; and yet there is something about 
 her, I don't know how to describe it, a sort of 
 innocent hardihood which makes one long to " 
 
 '' To kiss her ? " suggested the friend. 
 
 "Drake, you are no better than the beasts 
 that perish ! I wasn't going to say anything
 
 MB. ARCED ALE IS SATISFIED. 71 
 
 of that sort : I was going to say that it made 
 one long to warn her how dangerous it is to be 
 hardy, even though one may be as innocent as 
 an infant. Most men — you, for instance — entirely 
 misunderstand such women." 
 : ''I suppose you understand Mrs. Brett perfectly, 
 don't you?" 
 
 " Not at all ; I understand her very imperfectly 
 as yet. But I have sense enough to understand 
 that she is as good as she is charming, and that 
 when she shows herself kindly disposed towards a 
 humble artist it isn't because she thinks it might 
 amuse her to get up a flirtation with him." 
 
 " In other words, it is because she has really 
 fallen a victim to the fascinations of the humble 
 artist. Well, I dare say she has : I have observed 
 that they generally do. Poor Mr. Brett ! " 
 
 Archdale swung his legs off the sofa, faced his 
 interlocutor and made an impatient gesture. " I 
 really don't see why you should pity 'Mv. Brett," he 
 said. ''I have made some inquii'ies about him, 
 and I have heard just what I expected to hear. He 
 is a dry, solemn, cold-hearted old lawyer; he 
 neglects his wife, and he doesn't care a little hang 
 whether she is happy or miserable. If you imagine 
 that I shall ever have the honour of causing him 
 a moment's anxiety, that is because you don't
 
 72 MARGIA. 
 
 know much about either him or me. But you are 
 hopelessly material, Drake ; you haven't a particle 
 of romance or refinement in the whole of your great 
 hulking carcase." 
 
 The individual addressed did not appear to 
 resent this uncom]3limentary description of him- 
 self. He only laughed and said that people 
 afHicted with hulking carcases could not be 
 expected to be refined or romantic. He was a 
 middle-aged man, tall, stout, and loosely built ; 
 his hair was turning grey at the temples; his 
 moustache, it might be surmised, would also have 
 been grey, had not artificial means been resorted 
 to to obliterate the footprints of time. He looked 
 good-natured, as indeed he was, and a practised 
 observer would have guessed that he was not 
 vexed by any rigid code of morality. Alfred Drake 
 had more friends than perhaps he deserved to have. 
 He passed for a good fellow and was not a very bad 
 one ; though it was noticeable that those whom he 
 chose for his friends were people who were likely 
 to be of service to him in one way or another. 
 Cecil Archdale, who had already been of some 
 service to him, would, he hoped, be of service to 
 him again. In fact, that was why he was now listen- 
 ing so patiently to the praises of a lady whom he 
 neither knew nor was ambitious of knowing. By
 
 MR, AECBDALE IS SATISFIED. 73 
 
 way of summing u^d the subject and changing it, 
 he remarked presently — 
 
 *' WeU, I won't pity Mr. Brett, if you had rather 
 I didn't ; but I will make so bold as to con- 
 gratulate you. It's a fine thing to be the rising 
 artist of the day, and it isn't so bad to be young 
 and good-looking and rich. As for me, I am 
 resigned to being rather old and rather ugly ; bat 
 I am not altogether resigned to being confoundedly 
 poor. Therefore, my dear Archdale, I wish with 
 all my heart that I were you." 
 
 "Oh, I'm not rich," said Archdale. 
 
 ''Are you rich enough to lend a couple of 
 hundred to a distressed friend for a few weeks?" 
 inquired the other smilingly. " If you are, the 
 distressed one would sleep comfortably to-night 
 and would remember you in his prayers before 
 turning in." 
 
 Perhaps it was because he obtained without any 
 difficulty a sum which he had not the smallest 
 prospect of being able to repay, that Mr. Drake 
 felt bound to make some immediate return for 
 what he had received. For obvious reasons, he 
 could not present his generous friend with any- 
 thing expensive, but he could bestow something 
 valuable upon him, in the shape of excellent 
 advice, and this he did not grudge.
 
 74 MAECIA. 
 
 "Look here, Archdale," said he, as he rose 
 from his chair, " if I were you I'd drop these little 
 games. You'll burn your fingers some fine day, 
 my boy. I dare say I'm coarse and material and 
 all the rest of it ; but that's just what circum- 
 stances very often are, and a precious awkward 
 circumstance it will be for you to have a married 
 woman rushing in here to tell you that she has 
 quarrelled with her husband and come to throw 
 herself upon your protection." 
 
 " Oh, go away ! " exclaimed the young artist, 
 laughing; "the only excuse for you is that you 
 don't know what you are talking about." 
 
 Mr. Drake, having obtained the object of his 
 visit, went away willingly enough ; and shortly 
 after his departure, Archdale, in no wise disturbed 
 by the warning which had been addressed to him, 
 sauntered out with the intention of leaving a card 
 for Lady Wetherby. However, when he reached 
 St. George's Place, he did not content himself with 
 ringing the bell and pushing his card into the 
 letter-box, after the unceremonious fashion affected 
 by modern young men, but duly waited until the 
 door was opened, and then asked whether Lady 
 Wetherby was at home. Her ladyship, he was 
 informed, was at home ; and presently he was 
 received with the kindliness which her ladyship
 
 MR. ARCED ALE IS SATISFIED. 75 
 
 ^vas accustomed to extend impartially to the just 
 and to the unjust. He suspected that he was not 
 altogether approved of by Lady Wetherby ; but he 
 felt sui*e that, by taking a little trouble, he could 
 overcome any prejudice that she might have con- 
 ceived against him, and he was desirous just now 
 of securing her good opinion. Therefore he did 
 not at once begin to talk about Mrs. Brett, but 
 discussed a number of other persons in whom 
 he was not greatly interested, and found some- 
 thing pleasant to say about all of them ; so that 
 eventually it was his hostess, not he, who intro- 
 duced the subject upon which he wished for further 
 information. 
 
 '' I hope," said she, ''that you didn't believe what 
 Wetherby told you the other night about ^larcia 
 Brett. Of course you were only joking when you 
 spoke of having fallen in love with her ; but it is 
 better not to say such things even in joke, I think, 
 and I was sorry afterwards that I had called her 
 husband cantankerous. The poor man has been 
 very unfortunate, and his misfortunes have soured 
 him, and he has bad health ; but I believe Marcia 
 is just as fond of him now as she was when she 
 married him." 
 
 " And was she very fond of him then ? " 
 
 " I don't know what other reason she could have
 
 7G 3IARCTA. 
 
 had for accepting him. She might easily have 
 made a more brihiant match." 
 
 " He doesn't treat her over and above well, they 
 say. But it's no business of mine, and I won't 
 proclaim that I am in love with her again if you 
 disapprove of it, Lady Wetherby. Still there is 
 no objection to my cultivating her friendship, I 
 presume." 
 
 Notwithstanding the pains at which he had been 
 to conciliate her, this young man appeared to Lady 
 Wetherby to be forward and rather ill-bred. She 
 imagined that she was inflicting quite a severe 
 rebuke upon him when she replied : '* I really don't 
 think that I have the right to object to any pro- 
 ceedings of yours, Mr. Archdale. I should require 
 to know you much more intimately than I do before 
 I could take such a liberty. I only did not wish 
 you or anybody else to jump to mistaken conclu- 
 sions about a very old friend of mine." 
 
 He rejoined, without a symptom of the shame - 
 facedness which would have been becoming, " I 
 assure you I haven't jumped to any conclusions at 
 all about Mrs. Brett. As you say, one must know 
 people intimately before one can venture upon such 
 liberties ; but I suppose there is no harm in my 
 wishing to know her more intimately." 
 
 Lady Wetherby was not so sure of that. How-
 
 MR. ABCHDALE IS SATISFIED. 11 
 
 ever, she was precluded from giving utterance to 
 lier views by the entrance of Mrs. Brett herself, who 
 was now announced, and who, after embracing her 
 friend, shook hands very cordially with Mr. 
 Archdale. 
 
 Marcia was in excellent spirits that day. She 
 was wearing a new frock which fitted her to per- 
 fection — always an exhilarating circumstance ; she 
 had just come from an afternoon assembly at which 
 many pretty things had been said to her, and she 
 had not seen her husband for twenty-four hours. 
 She knew that she was looking her best, and very 
 likely it was not displeasing to her that she should 
 be studied under that aspect by an artist of dis- 
 criminating taste. 
 
 However that may have been, she did not give 
 the discriminating artist much chance of conversing 
 with her. She seemed to become oblivious of his 
 presence after she had greeted him, and half turned 
 her back upon him while she chattered with Lady 
 Wetherby upon topics which scarcely afforded an 
 excuse for intervention on the part of a male listener. 
 What did he know about the size and shape of 
 bonnets and the all-important question of whether 
 it was or was not true that the Princess of Wales 
 had set her face against the introduction of those 
 which were being worn in Paris ? Nevertheless, he
 
 78 MAIiCIA. 
 
 knew (for his e^^es were sharp and his wits were 
 quick) that Mrs. Brett's attention was not so com- 
 pletely taken up with these matters as to render 
 her unconscious of his admiring gaze. It was not 
 until Lady Wetherby asked some casual question 
 about Willie, that her manner suddenly changed 
 and she appeared really to forget that there was a 
 third person in the room. 
 
 " Oh, he is flourishing," she said, "he is always 
 flourishing, I am thankful to say. Do you know 
 wiiat he did this morning ? He actually went and 
 jumped his pony over the railings in Kegent's Park, 
 and a policeman came up and made a great fuss 
 and had to be tipped. I don't believe Willie knows 
 what fear is ! " 
 
 " Well, that is a very good thing," said Lady 
 Wetherby good-humouredly ; ' ' but I should think 
 he must be getting a little too much for Miss Wells, 
 isn't he? When are you going to send him to 
 school ? " 
 
 Marcia's face fell. " Oh, I don't know," she 
 answered ; '' please don't talk about it. It will 
 break my heart when they take him away from 
 me." 
 
 "It is a wrench, of course," Lady Wetherby 
 agreed ; " but sooner or later it has to be faced* 
 Our boy goes to a preparatory school in the autumn,
 
 ME. AUCHDALE IS SATISFIED. 79 
 
 and in two or three years be will be at Eton, I 
 suppose. I hope you mean AYiUie to be an 
 Etonian ? " 
 
 '* Yes," answered Marcia, with a sigh, ''I believe 
 that is decided upon. It isn't so much the thought 
 of Eton that I dread as of that horrid preparatory 
 place. I wonder whether it is really necessary I 
 I often ask men about their boyhood, and they 
 invariably tell me that they were happy when they 
 went to a public school and miserable at the private 
 one which came before it." Then she abruptly 
 wheeled round and appealed to Archdale. " What 
 was yom- experience ? " she asked. 
 
 ''Oh, I got on well enough at both schools, as 
 far as I remember," he replied. "x\ little acquaint- 
 ance with adversity isn't a bad thing for a boy, 
 Mrs. Brett ; though I dare say you'll call me hard- 
 hearted for saying so. Besides, if your boy has 
 good health and is plucky, as you say he is, he'll 
 take care of himself." 
 
 And as, at this moment, two other visitors were 
 announced who drew off Lady Wetherby's attention, 
 he was able to pull his chair a little closer to Mrs. 
 Brett's and to inquire, ''Are you so intensely 
 devoted to this son of yours ? " 
 
 " More than to everybody else in the world put 
 together," Marcia replied emphatically. "He is
 
 80 MARCIA. 
 
 everything to me and he always will he. But I 
 shall not be everything to him when once he has 
 left the nest, you see. That is really why I hate to 
 think of his going to school. I am not afraid of his 
 being bullied ; because I am sure he wouldn't stand 
 that." 
 
 ''Then," said Archdale, with a laugh and a 
 sHght shrug of his shoulders, " since the thing is 
 as inevitable as death, and since you hate thinking 
 about it, let us think about something else. Will 
 you be present at Lady Hampstead's pastoral play 
 to-morrow by any chance ? " 
 
 ''Yes, I shall be there if it doesn't rain," 
 answered Marcia. " And you ? " 
 
 " Oh, I shall be there, even if it does. I have 
 been helping her with her arrangements and 
 costumes and so forth, and I shall expect you to 
 pat me on the back if the thing turns out a 
 success." 
 
 "It is sure to be a success ; but shall I be allow^ed 
 an opportunity of congratulating you ? Won't you 
 be concealed somewhere up a tree, directing the 
 operations?" 
 
 " Very likely I shall ; I don't quite know w^hat is 
 going to be done with me. But you won't rush 
 away the moment that the play is over, will you ? " 
 
 " Not unless I am oblis;ed. I shall have to be
 
 MR. ARCED ALE IS SATISFIED. 81 
 
 home in time to dress for dinner, though. Audi 
 that reminds me that I ought to be at home now." 
 She gave him her hand once more and smiled 
 pleasantly at him ; so that he left the house soon 
 afterwards in a contented mood. The beautiful 
 Mrs. Brett had not, it was true, displayed anything 
 more than friendliness towards him ; but as he was 
 not an unreasonable man, he was satisfied with 
 that and with the prospect of meeting her again so 
 soon. The only thing that had jarred a little upon 
 him was the inordinate affection which she had 
 professed for that embryo school-boy. It was 
 quite right and proper that she should be fond of 
 her child, since she had a child ; but he would 
 have been better pleased if she had had none. He 
 wanted to think of her as a woman who was 
 thoroughly unhappy at home, and he did not want 
 to think of her as cherishing an inordinate affe<3tion 
 for any human being. 
 
 VOL, I.
 
 82 MAR CIA. 
 
 CHAPTEK VI. 
 
 liADY HAMPSTEAd's GARDEN-PAETY. 
 
 It was Marcia's habit to breakfast in her bed- 
 room, and it was Mr. Brett's habit to dispose of 
 the first meal of the day in the dining-room, all 
 by himself. The system is one which may safely 
 be recommended to couples who are not in close 
 sympathy with one another, and which is not to 
 be despised even by lovers ; for intercourse is 
 always perilous at an hour when nine people out 
 of ten feel both cross and stupid. However, 
 Marcia always broke through her rule on Tuesday 
 mornings, when the weekly bills came in, and 
 when her husband, who insisted upon having the 
 tradesmen's books submitted to him, was accus- 
 tomed to hand her over the housekeeping money, 
 sweetened by remarks upon the prodigality of the 
 cook. The day following that treated of in the 
 last chapter happened to be a Tuesday, and, as 
 usual, she hastened downstairs to receive her 
 cheque ; but, although the bills were somewhat
 
 LADY HAMPSTEAD'S GABDEX-PABTY. 83 
 
 higher than they ought to have been, Mr. Brett 
 had no disagreeable comments to make upon that 
 circumstance. She found him standing by his 
 -wi'iting-table with his hat on, and as he held out 
 the slip of paper which he had already signed, he 
 said — 
 
 "Isn't it to-day that Lady Hampstead has a 
 garden-party ? — a sort of out-door theatrical per- 
 formance, or something of that kind ? " 
 
 "Yes, it is to-day," answered Marcia. "You 
 won't come with me, of course ? " 
 
 " I will try to be at home in time to accompany 
 you. If I am not, you need not wait for me ; but 
 in all probability I shaU be able to manage it." 
 
 She knew him well enough to know what this 
 meant. He was one of the most conscientious of 
 men; he had been thinking over what she had 
 said to him about his abstention from social 
 gatherings, and he had come to the conclusion 
 that there was somethincj to be urojed in favour 
 of her view of her husband's duties. Therefore 
 he was now about to make a martyr of himself 
 after a fashion which was especially distasteful to 
 him. 
 
 " Please don't come to Lady Hampstead's on 
 my account," she said; "you won't enjoy your- 
 self, and, if you wiU excuse my saying so, you
 
 84: MAECIA. 
 
 may remain away without being missed. It is 
 only at dinner parties that I am asked what has 
 become of my husband : in the crowds nobody 
 knows who is there and who isn't." 
 
 But he answered in his cold, deliberate way, " I 
 think I ought sometimes to remind your friends 
 that you are not yet a widow. My avocations wdll 
 not allow me to frequent society regularly; but 
 I have it in my power to take a half-holiday 
 occasionally, and I propose to take one this 
 afternoon." 
 
 It cannot be said that she was particularly 
 anxious for his escort — he had taught her to do 
 without that — but she was willing to submit to 
 it, and at the appointed hour he was waiting for 
 her in the hall, with a flower in his button-hole 
 and a new pair of gloves in liis hand. 
 
 Lady Hampstead, who owned a villa with exten- 
 sive grounds in one of the suburbs of London, was 
 the first to start a species of sylvan entertainment 
 which has since become fashionable. Of course it 
 is not nearly as comfortable to witness a drama 
 in the open air as within four walls (w^here at 
 least, if one is not free from draughts, one can 
 keep one's feet dry and hear something of wiiat 
 the actors are saying) ; still anything in the 
 shape of a novelty is always welcome, and Eoyalty
 
 LADY EAMPSTEAD'S GAEDEX-PABTY. 85 
 
 patronized Lady Hampstead, and her gardens 
 were prettily laid out. Marcia, after a long, 
 ■weary drive, in the course of which very few 
 remarks were interchanged, was glad to find her- 
 self among a host of friends, and if she did not 
 pay much attention to the performance which was 
 being enacted before her, she admired the bright- 
 ness and colour of the whole scene, while she was 
 relieved to notice that Eustace had joined a knot 
 of legal luminaries, who ajDpeared to be enter- 
 taining him with that class of anecdote which 
 appeals to the legal sense of humom- and to 
 nobody else's. 
 
 The representation was not so lengthy as had 
 been apprehended by some of the audience or as 
 the actors could have desired ; for Lady Hamp- 
 stead, who was aware that when several hundred 
 people meet, their main object is to talk to one 
 another, had instructed her stage-manager to cut 
 out as much dialogue as could possibly be dis- 
 pensed with, and that gentleman, having reasons 
 of his own for wishing to be expeditious, obeyed 
 her faithfully. As soon as he could escape from 
 the compliments which greeted him after the 
 company had broken up into groups, he made 
 his way towards Mrs. Brett and expressed a hope 
 that she had not been very much bored.
 
 86 MARCIA. 
 
 '* Of course I haven't," she answered, smiling ; 
 "I don't think I ever saw anything so pretty. 
 Besides, it is almost impossible to bore me." 
 
 He raised his eyebrows. "What a delightful 
 person you must be to live with ! " he remarked. 
 
 " Oh, that is another matter ; what I meant was 
 that anything in the shape of amusement is pretty 
 sure to amuse me. At home I am occasionally 
 morose. But then I am not very much at home 
 at this time of year." 
 
 "I think your tastes must be a good deal like 
 mine," said Archdale. "It seems to me that life 
 is a thing to be enjoyed so long as enjoyment is 
 possible. When one isn't enjoying one's self one 
 is wasting invaluable hours which will never 
 return." 
 
 "Yes," agreed Marcia meditatively; "but the 
 question is whether we ought not to find enjoy- 
 ment in the family circle." 
 
 " Oh, nobody ever can be happy merely because 
 he thinks he ought to be happy. We can all do 
 our duty, I suppose ; but no power, human or 
 divine, can make us imagine it is more pleasant 
 to do it than not. Individually, I find that I am 
 never quite so happy as when I am doing some- 
 thing that is a little bit wrong ; not very wrong, 
 you know, only slightly so." He added, with the
 
 LADY HAMPSTEAD'S GARDEN-PARTY. 87 
 
 ail' of one who has suddenly made an interesting 
 discovery : ''Do you know, I am rather happy at 
 the present moment." 
 
 "Well, you are doing nothing wrong at the 
 present moment," returned Marcia, laughing some- 
 what nervously; "it isn't wrong to be talking to 
 me, I hope." 
 
 He glanced at her and sighed and laughed also. 
 " I hope not," he answered. 
 
 Of course she understood what he did not say. 
 That kind of thing had been said to her, or hinted 
 at, many and many a time before, but it had never 
 before, that she could remember, made her blush. 
 She was annoyed with herself for blushing, and 
 still more annoyed with him for keeping his eyes 
 upon her face when he ought to have averted them. 
 To show him that the phenomenon which he had 
 "witnessed was due to purely physical causes, and 
 that it was not really in his power to disconcert 
 her, she said, " Why have you never been to call 
 upon us, Mr. Ai'chdale ? I wanted to introduce 
 you to my husband, who, I am sure, would be glad 
 to make your acquaintance." 
 
 Cecil Archdale was not quite a gentleman, though 
 he was a very passable imitation of one. His reply 
 was, " I shall be only too dehghted to call upon 
 you ; but I'm afraid I can't pretend that, when I
 
 88 MAR CIA. 
 
 do call, it will be for the pleasure of making Mr, 
 Brett's acquaintance." 
 
 The atrocious bad taste of this speech did not 
 offend Marcia ; she knew that her husband was 
 not popular with other men, and she thought 
 that his unpopularity was deserved. She said, 
 '* Eustace is clever, and can be agreeable when he 
 chooses. He doesn't, as a rule, like my friends, 
 because my friends, as a rule, are not clever 
 people ; but I think he would like you, and pos- 
 sibly you might like him. Perhaps you would 
 come and dine quietly with us some evening. Are 
 you doing anything next Sunday ? " 
 
 Archdale replied that he believed he had an 
 engagement, but that he could easily get rid of it ; 
 and while Marcia was protesting that he must not 
 think of throwing anybody over for the dull little 
 gathering which was all that she could offer him, 
 her husband came up behind her and touched her 
 elbow. 
 
 *' Is it not time for us to be going ? " asked Mr. 
 Brett, who had his watch in his hand. *' Don't 
 hurry away on my account, only I understood you 
 to say that you wished to be at home soon after 
 seven o'clock." 
 
 Marcia started, and, to her great vexation, found 
 herself blushing again. ** I am quite ready," she
 
 LADY EAMPSTEAD'S GABDEN-PABTY. 89 
 
 answered quickly. Then as Mr. Brett was turning 
 on his heel, ''Eustace," she said, "I want to 
 introduce you to Mr. Archdale. Mr. Archdale has 
 been kind enough to give me a half promise that 
 he will dine with us on Sunday." 
 
 " Oh, it was a whole promise," the young artist 
 declared ; " and it will certainly be kejDt." 
 
 Mr. Brett raised his hat and surveyed the 
 stranger coldly. ''I am glad to hear that," said 
 he, without looking glad. " I do not approve of 
 Sunday dinner-parties because, in a small estab- 
 lishment like ours, I think the servants should be 
 allowed one daj" of rest in a week ; but I am told 
 that they are unavoidable." 
 
 *' It won't be a party, Eustace," interrupted 
 Marcia. 
 
 '' Oh ! Still I presume that the servants will 
 have to work as hard as if it were." 
 
 Marcia bit her lips and looked down, while 
 Archdale, inwardly amused, wondered whether he 
 ought to withdraw his acceptance of the invitation, 
 and so relieve Mr. Brett's servants of a portion of 
 their labour. But the latter gentleman, who may 
 have felt that he had been a little uncivil, resumed, 
 ''Party or no party, we shall be very pleased to 
 see you, Mr. Archdale, if you will honour us so far. 
 I have been a humble admirer of your pictures for 
 some time past."
 
 90 MAR CIA. 
 
 There was an ironical inflection in his voice 
 which did not escape Archdale, who answered 
 good-humouredly enough, " My pictures are any- 
 thing but admirable, as I dare say you know. It 
 really isn't my fault if they are generally admired. 
 I should have given up painting long ago but for 
 the sordid consideration that I make my living, 
 by it." 
 
 " That is a very good reason for persevering 
 with your occupation," observed Mr. Brett gravely. 
 *' Not every man can be a genius, but every man 
 can work for his living. Indeed," he added, with 
 a sigh, " work is the only thing worth living for." 
 
 He was thinking of himself, not of his interlo- 
 cutor, and was quite unconscious of having said 
 anything rude ; but his words chanced to irritate 
 both his wife and her friend, who exchanged a 
 quick glance while he was speaking. Work tlie 
 only thing worth living for ? — what a view to take 
 of existence ! 
 
 "Is the carriage there?" asked Marcia, in a 
 tone of impatient resignation, with which her 
 husband was only too familiar. *' If it is, we may 
 as well go now." 
 
 Mr. Brett extended a thin dry hand to the artist. 
 *' We will expect you on Sunday, then," said he. 
 
 " Thanks," answered Archdale briefly ; and per-
 
 LADY HAMPSTEAD'S GARDEN-PARTY. 91 
 
 haps if he had been discreet or even ^ell-bred, he 
 would not have di-awn Mrs. Brett aside a few paces 
 and whispered laughingly, **It seems that I am 
 not quite clever enough, and that I must be content 
 to take my place amongst your other friends. 
 Well, I don't think I very much mind." 
 
 Marcia responded by a slight grimace, the 
 meaning of which was open to various interpreta- 
 tions. Leaving xlrchdale to place what construc- 
 tion he might please upon it, she walked quickly 
 across the grass to say good-bye to her hostess, 
 Mr. Brett following her at a slower pace. 
 
 After she had seated herself in the victoria 
 beside her husband, and was being driven back 
 towards London, she remained silent for some 
 little time, while he also was apparently pre- 
 occupied with his own reflections. But at length, 
 although she knew that it would have been much 
 wiser to hold her peace, she could not help asking, 
 *' Had you any particular reason for being rude to 
 Mr. Archdale, Eustace ? " 
 
 " I am not aware of having been rude to him," 
 Mr. Brett replied tranquilly. "In what way was 
 I rude ? " 
 
 " It is scarcely polite to tell a man he is not a 
 genius." 
 
 '' Eeally, I think it would have been scarcely
 
 92 MAR CIA, 
 
 polite to tell him that he was ; if I had done that, 
 he would surely have had sense enough to suspect 
 me of laughing at him." 
 
 "Oh, I doubt whether anybody would ever sus- 
 pect you of laughing. Mr. Archdale ma}^ not be a 
 genius, and he may know that he isn't, but I don't 
 see what necessity there was for calling his atten- 
 tion to a fact which he hadn't denied. I suppose 
 you would think it a little rude of a stranger to 
 tell you emphatically that you were not hand- 
 some." 
 
 Mr. Brett winced perceptibly. Of course, he 
 was not handsome, and perhaps at his age it 
 would not have made much difference if he had 
 been. Nevertheless, she had hit him on the raw, 
 and what made the cut smart more was that he 
 felt sure it had been inflicted deliberately. It was 
 not often that Marcia made such speeches, but 
 when she did, the effect was always to make him 
 wish himself dead. But he answered, without 
 apparent emotion — 
 
 " I am sorry if I inadvertently hurt your friend's 
 feelings ; I ought to have remembered that artists 
 are apt to be sensitive. Naturally, I could have 
 no motive for wishing to affront him, since I 
 neither know nor care to know anything in the 
 world about the man."
 
 LADY EAMPSTEAD'S GAEDEX-PABTY. 93 
 
 " That means that you have taken a dislike to 
 him. I wonder why ? " 
 
 ** I confess that he did not impress me favour- 
 ably," answered Mr. Brett, with deliberation. 
 ''His manners did not strike me as those of a 
 gentleman." 
 
 He only said what he thought — and for the 
 matter of that, his impression was perfectly accu- 
 rate — but Marcia not unnaturally imagined that 
 he had selected intentionally the kind of criticism 
 which was most certain to annoy her. " Different 
 people have different ideas of what a gentleman's 
 manners ought to be, I suppose," she rejoined. 
 " I should have thought that he might have com- 
 plained of yours, and that you had not very much 
 to complain of in his." 
 
 " I am probably old-fashioned," said her hus- 
 band. "When I was a child I was taught that it 
 was bad manners to whisper ; but no doubt you 
 have changed all that." 
 
 Marcia, having no adequate retort ready, threw 
 herself back in the carriage and gazed at the misty 
 landscape. It was beautiful summer weather ; but 
 beautiful summer weather in the neighbourhood 
 of London usually implies a point or two of east 
 in the wind and a consequent indistinctness of 
 distant outlines. She was thinking to herself that
 
 94 MABCIA, 
 
 she was very tired of London, and that everybody 
 was more or less of a bore, and that her husband 
 was the most disagreeable man of her acquaint- 
 ance, and that she would like to go somewhere 
 far, far away with Willie and begin a new life, 
 from which petty snappings and bickerings should 
 be eliminated, when the harsh sound of Mr. 
 Brett's voice recalled her once more to actualities. 
 
 *' For some time past," said he, and he spoke 
 as if what he had to say was a very ordinary 
 matter, " I have been making inquiries about a 
 preparatory school for Willie, and I have now heard 
 of one near Farnborough which seems to be satis- 
 factory in all respects. Perhaps you will tell Miss 
 Wells that her services will be no longer required, 
 although I shall be very glad for her to remain 
 with us until she can find some fresh employment." 
 
 Marcia turned white. She had known that her 
 boy must shortly be taken from her, but she had 
 supposed that she would at least be consulted 
 before any definite arrangement was made, and 
 she had not imagined that Mr. Brett was interest- 
 ing himself at all in the matter. 
 
 ''You might have told me before!" she ex- 
 claimed, catching her breath. And then,' with a 
 slight air of relief, " Of course, he can't go to 
 school until the autumn now."
 
 LADY HAMPSTEAB'S GARDEX-PARTY. 95 
 
 ''Well, yes," resumed Mr. Brett; ''it so 
 chances that there is a vacancy at present, and 
 I find that there will be no objection to his being 
 received in about a fortnight's time." He added, 
 for Marcia's face of consternation touched him, 
 though he did not appear to be touched : " Be- 
 lieve me, it is better for you and for him that the 
 separation should be accomplished quickly. I can 
 understand that it is painful for a mother to part 
 with her only child; nevertheless, what is right 
 and necessary must be done, and the less hesita- 
 tion there is about doing it the less suffering there 
 will be. I am not sure whether you will take my 
 word for it that I have conducted these negotiations 
 privately in order to spare you, but such is the 
 fact." 
 
 *' You always show so much delicate considera- 
 tion for my feelings that I haven't the slightest 
 difficulty about taking your word in this instance," 
 answered Marcia bitterly. 
 
 He did not defend himself, nor indeed would it 
 have been worth his while to attempt so hopeless 
 a task ; for nothing could have shaken his wife's 
 conviction that he had acted as he had done out 
 of sheer malignancy. She fully recognized that 
 he was master, and that it was for him to decide 
 how his son's education should be conducted ; but
 
 96 MARCIA. 
 
 it is only a very bad master who rules by cracking 
 the whip, and if such a one fancies that he will 
 be loved by his subordinates, he knows little of 
 human nature. At that moment Marcia hated 
 her husband ; and although it is possible that she 
 may have hated him before, she had never before 
 admitted as much to herself. She had now, she 
 thought, a good reason for hating him : it may 
 be that she was not altogether sorry to be so 
 equipped. 
 
 However, she did not say much ; she was, in 
 truth, too miserable to indulge in useless recrimi- 
 nations. Her chief desire was to keep herself 
 from crying; for she did not want the man to 
 know how much he had hurt her. But, when she 
 once had got rid of him, there v»^as no reason why 
 she should not cry to her heart's content ; and 
 even the fear of appearing at a dinner-party with 
 a red nose did not deter her from giving way to 
 her emotions as soon as she was safely in her 
 bedroom, with the door locked. And how could 
 she leave the house without telling Willie the 
 dreadful news ? It gave the poor woman a sharp 
 pain at her heart to find that the news was. not 
 so very dreadful to Willie, after all. He was a 
 little startled when he heard how soon he was to 
 be launched forth into the world and left to fight
 
 LADY EAMPSTEAD'S GABDEX-PARTY. 97 
 
 his own battles ; but he did not much mind going 
 to school — all boys went to school. 
 
 " And I shall come home for the holidays, you 
 know," he added consolingly; for he seemed to 
 have a precocious comprehension of the fact that 
 his mother was one who rather stood in need of 
 protection than was capable of affording it. 
 
 He did not, and could not, understand the kind 
 of protection which she required, but possibly she 
 did ; for she exclaimed in accents of despair, 
 '* Yes, you will come back, my own dear ! But 
 you will not be the same again, it isn't possible ! 
 And, when I get home at night and your room 
 is empty, and my boy is gone from me for ever, 
 I don't know — oh, I don't know what will become 
 of me ! " 
 
 TOL. T. -H
 
 98 MAECIA, 
 
 CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 A SUNDAY DINNEE-PAETT. 
 
 MisEEABLE though Marcia was when she thought 
 of the hereayement which was about to be inflictei 
 upon her, she pursued her daily round of so-called 
 pleasures with a countenance which betrayed little 
 or nothing of her inward sadness. To conceal our 
 feelings is a lesson which most of us learn early in 
 life, and she had learnt it, notwithstanding her 
 small natural aptitudes in that direction. More- 
 over, she could not and did not expect any sym- 
 pathy from those about her. Even Miss Wells, 
 after wiping away a tear, was fain to confess that 
 it was high time for Willie to be placed under 
 stricter discipline than she was able to enforce. 
 "He is a dear boy," she said, " and it breaks my 
 heart to leave him ; but the truth is, Mrs. Brett, 
 that he is growing too big to be controlled by 
 women. Men are our natural masters, and they 
 know it, and a boy of nine is a little man — that is, 
 if he is worth anything. You need not be afraid
 
 A SUNDAY DIXXER-PABTY. 99 
 
 about him ; lie is brave and honest, and if he earns 
 a few whippings, as I dare say he will, he has sense 
 of justice enough to submit to them, and be all the 
 better for them." 
 
 All this was very true and very sensible ; but it 
 did not console Marcia, who was quite aware that 
 her son was at least as capable as other women's 
 sons of finding his own level. What weighed upon 
 her heart day and night like a load of lead was the 
 knowledge that henceforth she must be utterly 
 lonely. Neither Miss Wells nor Eustace, nor 
 anybody else, would have understood why Willie's 
 impending departure should make her dread the 
 future; she herself only understood it, after a 
 vague sort of fashion ; but the dread was none the 
 less real, because it could not be talked about, and 
 was not susceptible of strict definition. 
 
 Two days after Lady Hampstead's garden-party, 
 her husband said to her : "I have asked George 
 and Caroline to dine with us on Sunday. As your 
 friend Mr. Archdale is to come, two additional 
 guests will not entail much extra trouble. I 
 don't know whether you have invited anybody 
 else." 
 
 Marcia shook her head. " I thought you objected 
 to Sunday dinner-parties," she answered, " and it 
 is too late now to look out for some kindred spirits
 
 100 MABCIA. 
 
 to meet George and Caroline. How they will 
 enjoy themselves ! — and how we shall enjoy having 
 them!" 
 
 " Strange as it may appear to you," said Mr. 
 Brett, ''it is a pleasure to me to see my brother 
 and his wife from time to time. They do not, of 
 course, belong to your set, and naturally their com- 
 pany is not agreeable to you. However, you will 
 be able to talk to the artist, who does, I suppose, 
 belong more or less to your set. As we shall be an 
 uneven number, perhaps you might request Miss 
 Wells to join us at dinner." 
 
 " Oh, by all means," answered Marcia. " It is 
 rather hard upon poor Miss Wells ; but, fortunately 
 she has an inexhaustible supply of patience and 
 good nature." 
 
 Marcia' s own supply of those excellent qualities 
 was not inexhaustible, and her sister-in-law had 
 long ago reached the end of it. Lady Brett (the 
 banker had, for some reason which may have been 
 as good as another, received the honour of knight- 
 hood) was a devout woman, whose liberality and 
 charity had earned renown for her in certain 
 circles, and who, like some other devout persons, 
 was liberal and charitable in a pecuniary sense 
 only. She was sorry for poor Eustace, and had an 
 exasperating way of showing how sorry she was for
 
 A SUXDAY DINNER-PARTY. 101 
 
 bim. Of his Tvife's conduct she was unable to 
 approve, nor had her conscience permitted her to 
 refrain from expressing disapproval thereof. Con- 
 sequently, there had been family dissensions, fol- 
 lowed by half-hearted reconciliations and a pro- 
 longed period of armed truce. As for Sir George, 
 he was sorry for his brother, as successful men are 
 apt to be for those who have not proved successful 
 in life. To end one's days as a mere Police- 
 magistrate, when one might have been a wealthy 
 banker, is doubtless a melancholy result of wilful- 
 ness ; but Sir George was very magnanimous about 
 it, never reminding Eustace of bygone prophecies 
 "which had been justified by events, and endeavour- 
 ing to conceal the contempt which he could not 
 help feeling for a broken-down aspirant to high 
 honours. Of the two, Marcia infinitely preferred 
 Sir George. He was purse-proud, overbearing, 
 and, with regard to any subject unconnected with 
 business, ludicrously ignorant and stupid ; but at 
 least he was not malevolent. Caroline, on the 
 other hand, had the sour spitefulness which is not 
 uncommon among rich women who have no children 
 and who have failed to make their way into society. 
 Caroline affected to rail at society, and, in so far 
 as she was able, kept a watchful eye upon her 
 sister-in-law's proceedings. It was this, more than
 
 102 MABCIA, 
 
 anything else, that made Marcia hate a lady whom 
 her husband respected, or pretended to respect ; 
 and certain previous experiences caused her to 
 believe that Lady Brett had been asked to dinner 
 for the especial purpose of keeping a watchful eye 
 upon the proceedings of Mr. Archdale. 
 
 Now, although she was quite wrong there, for 
 her husband would as soon have thought of opening 
 her letters or looking through the keyhole of her 
 door as of setting anybody to spy upon her, she 
 was not mistaken in imagining that it was Lady 
 Brett's intention to study the handsome artist 
 carefully. Through some channel or other — 
 Heaven only knows how women manage to hear of 
 these things, but they always do hear of them — 
 Lady Brett had received information to the effect 
 that Mr. Archdale had been somewhat marked in 
 his attentions to Marcia, and if there was anything 
 of which Lady Brett was as sure as she was of 
 death and of her own ultimate translation to a 
 higher sphere, it was that sooner or later Marcia's 
 flirtations would have a tragic end. That being so, 
 it might have seemed to a person of logical mind 
 a waste of labour to fight against the inevitable ; 
 but Lady Brett thought that one should always do 
 one's duty, however little chance there might be of 
 earning a temporal reward thereby. And indeed it
 
 A SUNDAY DINXEB-PABTY, 103 
 
 was on that account that she was dining with her 
 brother-in-law on Sunday, notwithstanding the 
 many good reasons which she had for withholding 
 her countenance from any desecration of the day of 
 rest. 
 
 Not being predisposed in Archdale's favour, the 
 good lady thought it just like his impertinence to 
 be half an hour late and to offer no apology for 
 having kept his seniors waiting. When he was 
 presented to her, she made herself agreeable by 
 remarking, *'If you had been dining with me, Mr. 
 Archdale, I should have given up all hope of you 
 some time ago." 
 
 To which he replied imperturbably, *' Oh ! do 
 you go in for punctuality? Well, if you ever do 
 honour me with an invitation to dinner, I'll bear it 
 in mind." 
 
 He could not understand why he had been asked 
 to meet these people, and he was not a little 
 disappointed when he found that nobody else was 
 expected. Surely Mrs. Brett could not have 
 supposed that it would amuse him to take part 
 in the general conversation; yet she must have 
 known that with only six people assembled round 
 the dinner-table it would be impossible for him to 
 talk to her privately. However, he was placed on 
 her right hand, and if he was precluded from
 
 104 MARCIA. 
 
 talking to her as he could have wished to talk, he 
 did not at least feel bound to talk to anybody else. 
 Miss Wells ate her dinner and forgave him; for 
 Miss Wells, who was over fifty years of age, 
 preferred a good dinner to any intellectual treat 
 which this young disciple of Meissonier might have 
 been able to afford her. Moreover, the dinner was 
 excellent, and Marcia was charming. She very 
 soon gave him to understand that the company 
 was not of her choosing; from time to time she 
 made some remark to him in an undertone 
 which caused him to feel that he already stood 
 upon the footing of an intimate friend, and she 
 favoured him with a slight grimace while Sir 
 George Brett, with slow and pompous utterance, 
 discussed the various schools of painting of the 
 epoch. 
 
 Sir George, whose absolute ignorance of art was 
 accompanied by the courage which traditionally 
 belongs thereto, said some marvellously foolish 
 things, but said them with such perfect and 
 evident self-satisfaction that nobody possessed of 
 the faintest sense of humour could have felt 
 annoyed with him for being a fool. Unlike his 
 wife, he saw no reason to snub a budding celebrity, 
 and even went so far as to hint that he had still 
 room for a picture or two in his country house.
 
 A SUNDAY DINNER-PARTT. 105 
 
 " Not very big ones; but yours are never very big, 
 are they, Mr. Archdale ? " 
 
 '' They would be, if it were the custom to pay us 
 by the piece," answered Archdale; ''but as that 
 system hasn't been adopted yet, I stick to small 
 canvases and large frames." 
 
 "Yes, yes; a small canvas will hold a good 
 many figm-es, and so will a small cheque," laughed 
 this Maecenas of a banker, with an encouraging 
 nod, while Lady Brett, from the other end of the 
 table, remarked dryly that the cost of a picture is 
 not necessarily a criterion of its merit. 
 
 All this was disagreeable enough to Marcia, who 
 made such amends to her guest as it was in her 
 power to make. These he appeared to find satis- 
 factory, and it did not interfere with his comfort 
 in any way to be aware that on the opposite side 
 of the table was seated a plain-featured, middle- 
 aged woman who was staring at him with an 
 unfriendly air and straining her ears in vain 
 to catch his whispered words. By his way of 
 thinking, ugly old women were simple nonentities. 
 What could it possibly signify whether they liked 
 or disliked you ? It was sufficient for him that a 
 young and beautiful woman was exerting herself 
 to please him, and what gave him a much more 
 severe snub than Lady Brett could ever have
 
 106 MARCIA. 
 
 inflicted was that upon him^ when Wihie appeared, 
 together with the dessert, the young and beautiful 
 w^oman seemed suddenly to lose all consciousness 
 of his vicinity. 
 
 The brat (it was thus that Arch dale mentally 
 stigmatized this intruder) was kissed by his aunt, 
 and surreptitiously wiped off the trace of the salute 
 with his sleeve while making his way round the 
 table to his mother's side. Then Sir George, who 
 had had as much champagne as is required to 
 promote good-humoured jocularity, caught him by 
 the ear, and said, " Well, young man, so they're 
 going to chuck you down into the bear-pit, I hear. 
 High time, too ! If you haven't learnt how to use 
 your fists yet, the sooner you learn the better." 
 
 Willie smikd shyly and slipped away without 
 answering. He knew instinctively (as boys always 
 do) that this loud-voiced uncle of his did not 
 belong to the fighting variety of the human species, 
 and he did not care to protest that he was ready 
 for any future conflicts which might be in store for 
 him. 
 
 But Marcia's cheeks reddened and her eyes 
 sparkled; for her brother-in-law's speech seemed 
 to her cruel and brutal. 
 
 '' Schools are not bear-pits," she said. 
 
 *' Ain't they though ! " returned Sir George,
 
 A SUNDAY DIXNER-PARTY. 107 
 
 laughing. ''"Well, I can't say what they may be 
 nowadays ; but I know what they were in my time. 
 Tossed in a blanket till you knocked your head 
 and knees against the ceiling, and kicked round 
 the playground till you were black and blue all 
 over — eh, Eustace ? " 
 
 ''I do not remember to have passed through 
 any such experiences," answered Mr. Brett, in his 
 matter-of-fact way. 
 
 ''Oh! you don't, don't you?" returned his 
 brother, slightly disconcerted. '' But then your 
 memory is failing you, my dear fellow ! I've 
 noticed that in many things. I remember passing 
 through plenty of experiences of that kind — and 
 worse ones too." 
 
 " How you must have howled for mercy ! " 
 remarked Marcia. Then, fearing lest she should 
 be betrayed into saying something unpardonable, 
 she made a hurried signal to her sister-in-law and 
 left the room. 
 
 Miss Wells slipped quietly away to the school- 
 room. Miss Wells passed for being a simple 
 creature — and so, perhaps, she was — yet her 
 simplicity was not so great but that she could 
 perceive the imminence of a row, and at her 
 time of life she preferred to keep out of rows, 
 when that could be managed. Her evasion was
 
 108 MAE CIA. 
 
 not commented upon. The two sisters-in-law 
 seated themselves side by side in the drawing- 
 room and prepared for that conflict which was 
 renewed as often as they met, and in which the 
 advantage remained sometimes with one side, 
 sometimes with the other. On the present 
 occasion. Lady Brett had more than one weapon 
 ready to her hand, and she picked up the first 
 with manifest satisfaction. 
 
 "I am so glad," said she, *'that Eustace has 
 made up his mind to send Willie to school. Un- 
 doubtedly it is the right thing to do." 
 
 *' Has anybody suggested that it was the wrong 
 thing to do ? " inquired Marcia. 
 
 '* Oh, that of course I don't know. I was afraid 
 that you might be opposed to it — which we should 
 all have been sorry for. Children, I think, ought 
 not to be looked upon as mere playthings. It is 
 very necessary to remember that in a few years 
 they will be men and women, and that their future 
 must depend to a great extent upon their early 
 training." 
 
 " How funny it is," remarked Marcia sweetly, 
 *' that the people who have no children of their 
 own always know so very well in what way other 
 people's children ought to be brought up." 
 
 A slow flush mounted into Lady Brett's sallow
 
 A SUNDAY DINNER-PARTY. 109 
 
 cheeks. *' I do not pretend to be an authority 
 upon such subjects," she returned; "but I have 
 ej'es and ears, and I do not require to be a 
 mother in order to understand that the social 
 atmosphere of this house is not the most whole- 
 some in the world for a growing boy." 
 
 " You are very flattering, Caroline. I didn't 
 know that this was an immoral household; but 
 since you say so, no doubt it is so ; for you are 
 never wrong. I myself have a tolerably clear con- 
 science ; but I can't answer for Eustace, because 
 I never question him as to how he spends his time. 
 Of what particular sin do you suspect him ? " 
 
 ''If all men were as good Christians and as 
 good husbands as Eustace/' returned the other, 
 who was but an indifferent fencer, " the world 
 would be t)etter and happier than it is. As you 
 know, I said nothing about immorality, nor should 
 I think of using such a word unless I had con- 
 vincing proof — but no matter ! Feeling as I do 
 about the sanctity of the marriage-tie, I must and 
 do feel that it would be a sad pity if Willie were 
 tempted to think lightly of it at an impressionable 
 age — that is all." 
 
 Marcia, after the fashion of women, lost her 
 temper at the very moment when she might have 
 routed her adversary by keeping it. "You are
 
 110 MAR CI A. 
 
 vulgar and insulting, Caroline ! " she exclaimed ; 
 *' it is your nature to be so, I suppose. Yet I 
 should have thought that even you might have 
 had more human feeling than to imagine that any 
 mother would teach such a lesson to her son ! " 
 
 *' Oh, my dear, I am sure you would not teach 
 such a lesson intentionally," Lady Brett replied, 
 delighted at the success of her thrust; ''but, for- 
 tunately or unfortunately, example is always a 
 more powerful instructor than precept. I should 
 not in the least mind your calling me vulgar if I 
 could open your eyes to what everybody else sees, 
 and what Willie, amongst the rest, cannot help 
 seeing. Flirtation may seem to you an innocent 
 thing — I am willing, for the sake of argument, to 
 admit that it does — but it does not seem so to 
 other people, and when you are perpetually invit- 
 ing young men, such as Mr. Archdale, for instance, 
 to your house " 
 
 "I have never flirted in any way whatsoever 
 with Mr. Archdale," interrupted Marcia indig- 
 nantly. ''It is your own horrid imagination that 
 always make you suspect evil where none exists, 
 I can't cure you of the disease from which you 
 suffer, and I don't mean to try; but this I can 
 tell you, Caroline; you may spare yourself the 
 trouble of interfering with me, for it isn't the fear
 
 A SUNDAY DIXXEB-PABTY, 111 
 
 of my being blamed by you that will make me give 
 up any friend of mine ! " 
 
 Lady Brett closed her eyes, shook her head 
 slowly, and smiled. This was what she usually 
 did when at a loss for a retort, and certainly no 
 retort could have been more eflective. By the 
 time that the men came in from the dining-room, 
 the two ladies had exchanged some bitter speeches, 
 and one of them was in a thoroughly reckless 
 temper. Partly upon the principle that one may 
 as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb, partly 
 because she wished to scandalize her husband's 
 censorious relatives, and partly because she felt 
 that Archdale was the only individual present 
 from whom she could hope for either kindness or 
 justice, Marcia at once devoted herself to the 
 young artist, whom she led away into a corner, 
 and who was only too glad to be given an oppor- 
 tunity of conversing with her apart. 
 
 Nevertheless, he did not, apparently, take much 
 advantage of this privilege, and Lady Brett, if she 
 had heard what he was saying, might possibly 
 have been a little disappointed. His talk was 
 chiefly of the foreign lands in which he had 
 sojourned ; he spoke with enthusiasm of Italy, and 
 especially of Venice, which he declared to be the 
 most enchanting spot in the whole world. " That
 
 112 MARCIA. 
 
 is, supposing that one can be there with the 
 companion of one's choice. Of course, all places 
 depend more or less upon the company in which 
 one visits them." 
 
 " I was there with my husband," remarked 
 Marcia. " He was ill at the time, and it rained 
 every day. I can't say that I have a very pleasant 
 recollection of th-e place." 
 
 " Oh, if it rained and if — well, I dare say Venice 
 wouldn't suit Mr. Brett particularly well." 
 
 *' No place suits Eustace, except London. And 
 London for him doesn't mean the London that 
 I live in." 
 
 ''And like?" 
 
 " I am not quite sure. Sometimes I think that 
 I like it and sometimes I feel as if I would give 
 anything to get away from it and never see it 
 again. As you say, all depends upon the company 
 that one is in, and though there are plenty of nice 
 people in London, there are a great many horrid 
 ones too." 
 
 It was not necessary for her to specify the 
 horrid people. He could guess that some of them 
 were not very far away at that moment, nor was 
 he contradicted when he observed that one's rela- 
 tions, generally speaking, were apt to be horrid. 
 And, if he did not tell her in so many words
 
 A SUNDAY DIXXEP.-PAFcTT. 113 
 
 that sbe was the person of all others -with whom 
 it would be a delight to him to float across 
 the smooth, sunny lagoons of the Adriatic, she 
 understood well enough what he refrained from 
 saving, and the vision which he conjured up before 
 her mind's eye was not displeasing to her. It was 
 never displeasing to Marcia to be appreciated ; 
 perhaps that is never displeasing to anybody. 
 
 Eustace Brett was appreciated by his sister-in- 
 law — or, at any rate, she assured him that he was. 
 She said she often felt so very sorry for him. "I 
 know how you must hate the life of perpetual 
 racket which Marcia enjoys, and I know your 
 health is not in a state to stand it. Sometimes 
 I think that you are almost too indulgent a 
 husband, Eustace." 
 
 She was a stupid woman and she did not in the 
 least comprehend the character of the man to 
 whom she was speaking. Yet, offensive as any 
 strictures upon his wife were to him and little as 
 he was disposed to encourage them, they influenced 
 him in some degree. 
 
 " The perpetual racket does not affect me," he 
 answered coldly ; for I take no part in it. It is 
 natural that Marcia, at her age, should find 
 pleasure in amusements which have ceased to give 
 pleasure to a man of mine." 
 
 VOL. T. I
 
 114 MAE CIA. 
 
 But in his heart he thought, as he had always 
 thought, that a good wife will like what her hus- 
 band likes, and it vexed him to know that dis- 
 interested on-lookers did not consider Marcia's 
 conduct to be that of a good wife. 
 
 Lady Brett, in no wise discouraged, continued to 
 condole with him until her carriage was announced, 
 when she woke up Sir George, who had dropped 
 asleep over the Observer. It was a mere accident 
 that Marcia, whose back was turned, did not 
 notice the rustle of her sister-in-law's dress and 
 that her husband had to cross the room in order 
 to call her attention to the fact that her guests 
 were waiting to take leave of her ; but the effect 
 was to make her appear as though she had for- 
 gotten the presence of any guest save Mr. 
 Archdale. 
 
 " So sorry to interrupt you, dear," Lady Brett 
 said ; *' but I won't keep you a moment. Good 
 night." 
 
 Then kisses were exchanged, and as Mr. Brett, 
 in his old-fashioned way, offered his arm to 
 Caroline to escort her downstairs, Archdale took 
 occasion to remark smilingly, *' I'm afraid your 
 relatives don't think much of me, Mrs. Brett." 
 
 " Oh, if you are a friend of mine, that is quite 
 enough to make them hate you," answered Marcia
 
 A SUNDAY DINNEM-FARTY. 115 
 
 impatiently. "Perhaps you had better go away 
 now. I am going to be lectured for not having 
 been sufficiently civil to them; though, Heaven 
 knows ! I did my best,"
 
 116 MARCIA, 
 
 CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 WILLIE STARTS IN LIFE. 
 
 From the evening when he had dined in Cornwall 
 Terrace, Archdale allowed no chance of meeting 
 Mrs. Brett to escape him — which is as much as to 
 say that he met her at least once in every twenty- 
 four hours. He found out what her engagements 
 were by the simple and direct process of asking 
 her ; and the rest was easy enough, for he had a 
 large acquaintance. Moreover, he was something 
 of a celebrity, so that there was no great trouble 
 about obtaining invitations from people whom he 
 did not happen to know. Her face, he noticed, 
 always brightened when he approached her; he 
 had had experience enough to recognize and under- 
 stand certain symptoms which were perceptible in 
 her speech and manner, and he felt pretty sure 
 that he was on the high road towards success. 
 That there was anything dishonourable, ungenerous 
 or unworthy of a gentleman in the kind of success 
 that he coveted never occurred to him for a
 
 WILLIE STARTS IN LIFE. 117 
 
 moment. He saw no harm in such philandering ; 
 he did not believe in anybody's constancy, least of 
 all in his own, and he foresaw without much 
 distress of mind the inevitable day when his dear 
 Mrs. Brett would grow tired of him — always sup- 
 posing that he did not first tire of her. Meanwhile 
 it was delightful to sit with her on staircases 
 or in secluded recesses, to watch the play of her 
 features and to divine her thoughts. 
 
 Probably, if it had been in his power to divine 
 those thoughts accurately, some quarters of an 
 hour of mortification would have fallen to his lot. 
 He would have discovered that Sylvia was greatly 
 taken with him, and liked him better the more she 
 saw of him ; but he would likewise have discovered 
 that he did not by any means occupy the first place 
 in her mind or heart at the time. The truth was 
 that while she was listening, with a smile upon 
 her lips, to the pretty things which he knew so well 
 how to whisper, she was more often than not 
 counting the days which still remained to her 
 before the arrival of a date which seemed to bar 
 the perspective of the future as a thundercloud 
 blots out a landscape, and if by taking a final fare- 
 well of Mr. Archdale she could have gained the 
 privilege of keeping Willie with her for another six 
 months, Mr. Archdale would doubtless have been
 
 118 MABCIA. 
 
 dismissed to form attachments elsewhere without 
 hesitation. 
 
 But Fate offers no such bargains to hapless 
 mortals, and in due course the dreaded morning 
 came when Willie's portmanteau was packed and 
 when his mother, issuing from her bedroom (where 
 she always breakfasted), found him waiting for her 
 in the hall with Mr. Brett, who was for once 
 absenting himself from his magisterial duties. 
 Marcia had hoped that he would delegate to her 
 the task of conducting her boy to Farnborough ; 
 but he had informed her on the previous evening 
 that he proposed to accompany them. There were 
 one or two points which he had omitted to mention 
 to the head-master on the occasion of his former 
 visit, he said. So there he was, with his hat on 
 his head and his watch in his hand, and although 
 the only words that he uttered were '' Good morn- 
 ing," his face added as plainly as possible, ''For 
 goodness' sake make haste, and whatever you do, 
 try to exercise a little self-control for the present ! 
 Surely it cannot be necessary to begin crying 
 already." 
 
 But Marcia could not keep the tears out of her 
 eyes, nor could she trust herself to speak. It was 
 easy enough for Miss Wells to put a brave face 
 upon this parting, she thought, rather unjustly;
 
 WILLIE STARTS IX LIFE. 119 
 
 what did Miss Wells care ? Miss Wells was, no 
 doubt, sorry to lose her pupil, possibly also to lose 
 her situation ; but that was a very different thing 
 from the loss — the irreparable loss — which the 
 boy's mother was about to incur. Nobody under- 
 stood, nobody could understand her misery — unless 
 it might be, in some faint degree, Willie himself. 
 
 Whatever may have been the limits of Willie's 
 comprehension, they were probabl;, somewhat 
 wider than his elders imagined them to be, and 
 his mother's character (which so little resembled 
 his own) was in many resj^ects no i^ystery to him. 
 
 On the way to the station he confronted her with 
 reassuring glances and smiles, while Mr. -3re^t 
 consulted his watch, and fidgeted, and called out 
 to the coachman to drive faster. Some men, it is 
 said, can go under fire for the first time without 
 experiencing any nervous distm-bance, whereas 
 most of us feel pretty sure that we should be a 
 good deal frightened under such circumstances, 
 though we may be permitted to hope that we 
 should not disgrace ourselves. The soldier who 
 does not know what fear is, and the boy who on 
 leaving home for his first school is free from an 
 inward sinking of the heart, are perhaps enviable 
 persons; but there seems to be no particular 
 reason why they should be admired. Willie Brett,
 
 120 MAR CIA. 
 
 in whose small body there was courage enough to 
 meet all emergencies, did not belong to the above 
 exceptional class, so that it was a little hard upon 
 him to have to keep up somebody else's spirits as 
 well as his own. However, he did his best ; and if 
 he could not manage to talk quite as much as 
 usual, that was of the less consequence because 
 Marcia was incapable of responding. 
 
 The journey could not be anything but a 
 miserable one : happily it did not last very long. 
 Mr. Brett read the papers and cleared his voice 
 from time to time (he had a way of clearing his 
 voice at frequent intervals which always irritated 
 his wife's nerves) ; Marcia gazed out of the window 
 with sad eyes which saw nothing; and Willie, 
 sitting silent in a corner of the railway carriage, 
 with one leg tucked under him, revolved many 
 thoughts in an active mind. Then came the 
 drive to the school and the reception by the 
 head-master, a brisk, athletic-looking clergyman, 
 whose manners had not the good fortune to please 
 Marcia. 
 
 " Oh, we won't eat the young gentleman up, 
 Mrs. Brett," said he, with a good-humoured and 
 compassionate appreciation of the maternal mis- 
 givings which his practised eye at once detected ; 
 "he'll soon make friends with the boys, and if
 
 WILLIE STARTS IX LLFE. 121 
 
 he doesn't make friencls with us masters it shall 
 not be our fault, I promise yoa. Would you like 
 to take a look round the playgi'ound and the 
 schoolrooms ? Xo ? Well, if you want to catch 
 the next up-train, you haven't a great deal of 
 time to spare, I'm afraid. Pocket-money ? Well, 
 no; we don't think it desirable to make distinc- 
 tions between the boys in that matter. We give 
 them sixj)ence a week each — subject to deductions 
 for misconduct, from which I hope that my friend 
 here won't suffer." 
 
 Marcia sighed and replaced her sovereign in 
 her purse, while ]\Ir. Brett remarked gravely, ''I 
 think sixpence a week should be ample." He 
 never disputed his wife's right to dispose of her 
 money as she might see fit ; but he had a strong 
 opinion that Willie ought not to be brought up 
 as the son of a rich man. He withdrew a few 
 paces in order to inform the schoolmaster of his 
 wishes with regard to certain matters of detail, 
 and so came that dreadful moment of leave-taking 
 which it is cruel to prolong. 
 
 Well, there was not much to be said, and the 
 poor little man needed all his fortitude when he 
 felt his mother's warm tears dropping on to his 
 cheeks. She squeezed a small parcel into his 
 hand — it was a miniature of herself which she
 
 122 MABCIA, 
 
 had had taken a short time before, and which 
 represented her as the beautiful woman that she 
 was. *' Good-bye, my darling ! " she whispered ; 
 "you won't forget me, will you? I shall always 
 be thinking about you — always ! I don't know 
 how I shall live without you; but I don't want 
 you to be miserable ; I want you to be happy. 
 And, Willie, if you ever — if you ever — " she had 
 to stop for a moment and choke down her sobs. 
 ''If you ever do anything wrong," she resumed 
 presently, '' you mustn't be afraid of me, because 
 I'm not good either, and I shall understand — and 
 — and — I love you so ! " 
 
 Poor soul ! her parting gift and her parting 
 words were characteristic enough. They got her 
 out of the house somehow, and when she regained 
 some command over her senses she was seated 
 in the fly beside the cold, matter-of-fact man 
 whom she had once promised to love, honour, and 
 obey — a ridiculous engagement, surely, to demand 
 from frail human nature. 
 
 But Mr. Brett was not quite as unsympathetic 
 as he looked. He certainly thought that his wife 
 had made a rather ridiculous exhibition of herself ; 
 but the scene was over now and it had been no 
 worse than he had anticipated, and he was anxious 
 to say something consoling to her if he could.
 
 WILLIE STABTS IX LIFE. 123 
 
 " You must not take this so much to heart, 
 Marcia," he began; ''it is a great deal better for 
 WilHe to be with other boys than to be kept at 
 home, you may be sure. It is not as though he 
 were weakly and disinclined to i^lay cricket. If 
 he were, that would be another matter, no doubt." 
 
 ''Oh, he will be happy after the first day or 
 two," answered Marcia from behind her handker- 
 chief. " It is just because I know that he is going 
 to enjoy himself and have a jolly life that I am so 
 wretched." 
 
 Mr. Brett felt constrained to observe, " That is 
 rather a selfish sort of love, isn't it *? " 
 
 " AU love is selfish." 
 
 " I think not, Marcia ; I hope not. It seems to 
 me, on the contrary, that love, if it be sincere, 
 must of necessity be unselfish. When we really 
 love we forget ourselves and our own wishes " 
 
 Marcia drowned the remainder of his sentence 
 with an impatient laugh, broken by a sob. " One 
 has heard all that!" she cried; "the copy-books 
 informed us of it in our childhood. Why don't 
 you offer me a few more platitudes ? ' Be virtuous 
 and you will be happy,' or something of that kind. 
 You can be virtuous without being hajDi^y, and, 
 what is more, you can be happy without being 
 virtuous. AU the copy-books that were ever com-
 
 124 MARCIA. 
 
 piled can't turn the world into a Paradise or do 
 away with facts which stare everybody in the 
 face." 
 
 Mr. Brett sighed. **I speak of what I myself 
 experience and have experienced," he said. *'I 
 suppose we all judge of others by ourselves, and 
 I doubt whether we make any great mistake in 
 doing so." 
 
 " Oh, if we start by knowing something about 
 ourselves — however, I dare say you know a good 
 deal about yourself. Only don't you think you 
 may be making a little mistake in imagining that 
 you ever loved anybody ? I don't deny that you 
 are capable of a good, steady, well-regulated 
 affection for those who deserve it ; but you couldn't 
 feel much love for a sinner, could you? You 
 would think that quite wrong." 
 
 He was hurt and aggrieved ; but he made allow- 
 ance for her. He perceived that she was so sore 
 and so sensitive that, like a wounded animal, she 
 could not help turning upon any one who tried to 
 relieve her sufferings. "Well, well," he said, ''we 
 won't dispute about me and my capabilities ; I am 
 not very important one way or the other. Still 
 there are many ways of loving, Marcia." 
 
 ''Oh, what nonsense!" she returned, in the 
 voice of an angry child ; " there is one way and
 
 WILLIE STARTS IN LIFE. 125 
 
 only one. If you don't understand what that is, 
 so much the better for you ! Please, leave me 
 alone, Eustace. By-and-by I shall be able to 
 conduct myself like a civilized, heartless being; 
 just now I really am not fit to be spoken to." 
 
 Mr. Brett could not dispute the truth of the 
 latter assertion. He held his peace during the 
 remainder of the drive, and did not speak again 
 till two-thirds of the railway journey which 
 followed had been accomplished. Grief is apt to 
 be unreasonable, he thought, the grief of women 
 is especially so ; and the more violently it displays 
 itself, the sooner it is over, as a rule. In another 
 twenty-four hours Marcia would doubtless have 
 become accustomed, if not resigned, to her loss; 
 probably in the meanwhile it was best to comply 
 with her entreaty and leave her alone. Neverthe- 
 less, when they were nearing London, it occurred 
 to him to say — 
 
 *'You have not forgotten, I hope, that we are 
 dining with my brother George to-night." 
 
 "With whom?" asked Marcia, starting out of 
 her sorrowful musings. •"' With George and Caro- 
 line ? Oh, I can't possibly dine there this evening 
 — nothing would induce me ! " 
 
 "Yet you accepted the invitation," observed Mr. 
 Brett, with gathering clouds upon his brow.
 
 126 MARCIA. 
 
 " Did I ? Well, I'll send an excuse as soon as 
 we get home." 
 
 *'I cannot sanction your doing that, Marcia. 
 It would be an act of unpardonable rudeness, and 
 I am afraid it would be considered a deliberate act 
 also." 
 
 ** Oh dear, no ! " answered Marcia, speaking 
 from the height of her superior social knowledge ; 
 " it is the commonest thing in the world for people 
 to send excuses at the last moment." 
 
 **It may be, although I was not aware of it; 
 but I am certain that in this instance it would 
 give offence. And, however indifferent you may 
 be to that, I do not wish to offend my brother. If 
 you had refused the invitation when it came I 
 should have been sorry, but I should not have 
 interfered: as you saw fit to accept it, I must 
 request you to keep your engagement." He added, 
 with the air of overcoming some inward reluctance, 
 *' I ask this as a personal favour." 
 
 "Eeally, Eustace, it is impossible," answered 
 Marcia. *'It isn't because I dislike them, or 
 because I want to go anywhere else, except to 
 bed; but you don't know what Caroline is. She 
 would say things to me about Willie which would 
 simply drive me mad— I couldn't face her to-night ! 
 If you think they will be affronted by being thrown
 
 WILLIE STARTS lyf LIFE. 127 
 
 over, you can go without me and say you left me 
 in bed with a splitting headache — which will be 
 true." 
 
 '' It will be true, perhaps ; but it will not be 
 believed. There is one thing of w^hich I should 
 like to remind you, ]\Iarcia, because it will probably 
 strike you as important. My brother George is 
 very rich and he has no children. It is not un- 
 natural to anticipate that he will make our boy 
 his heir, provided that we can manage to keep 
 upon friendly terms with him ; but it is perfectly 
 possible that he may decide upon a different 
 arrangement, if we go out of our way to slight 
 him. Now I will leave you to judge whether it is 
 worth your while to have a headache to-night." 
 
 The appeal was scarcely skilful, and Mr. Brett, 
 who had just observed that there are many ways 
 of loving, might have known better than to trust 
 to it. Marcia, no doubt, had a passionate love for 
 WilHe; but she considered that, what with his 
 father's fortune and her own, his pecuniary in- 
 terests were pretty safe, and as greed of gain was 
 a weakness from which she herself chanced to be 
 free, she looked upon it as an especially con- 
 temptible one. 
 
 ** Is that why you submit so meekly to be 
 patronized by George and pitied by Caroline?"
 
 128 MARCIA. 
 
 she asked disdainfully. '' Well, I hope you will 
 be gratified by their leaving their money to you or 
 Willie, and I dare say you will be; because they 
 are much too just and righteous and merciful to 
 hold you responsible for my sins. I can't make 
 my head stop aching to please them or even to 
 please myself: besides which, I doubt very much 
 whether they w^ould love me any better if I allowed 
 them to trample upon me." 
 
 "Nobody asked you to do that," returned Mr. 
 Brett, with some little irritation ; '' you are only 
 being asked to make a small sacrifice, which you 
 wouldn't think twice about if the question w^ere 
 one of your own amusement or advantage." 
 
 Marcia merely shrugged her shoulders without 
 replying. 
 
 '' I am to understand then," said Mr. Brett 
 coldly, " that you absolutely decline to oblige 
 me?" 
 
 *' I don't think you have given me any sufficient 
 reason for obliging you," answered Marcia. "You 
 can't really suppose that, if George has made his 
 wdll, he will alter it because I once failed to turn 
 up at dinner when I was expected. And, as I told 
 you before, I am feeling too miserable to tolerate 
 Caroline to-night. If I did go wdth you, the 
 chances are that I should quarrel with her, and
 
 WILLIE STARTS IX LIFE. 129 
 
 then you would be sorry that you hadn't left me 
 at home." 
 
 This consideration may have had some weight 
 with Mr. Brett. At any rate he did not press his 
 request further, and the colloquy ended then and 
 there. However, on parting with his wife after 
 they had reached home, he felt justified in saying : 
 " I do not often ask a favour of you, Marcia, and 
 I am sure you will be glad to hear that it will be 
 a very long time before I break through my rule 
 
 VOL. T.
 
 130 MABCIA, 
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 ILL-NATURED MRS. DELAMERE. 
 
 ''Look down upon us!" ejaculated Sir George 
 Brett, laughing heartily at so preposterous a 
 notion; ''it would puzzle her to do that, I think. 
 In order to look down upon people, one must be 
 placed above them, and it is evident that she does 
 not occupy that position with regard to us. Eeally, 
 my dear Caroline, you are disposed to be rather 
 too hard upon poor little Marcia." 
 
 "Why in the world you should always speak 
 of her as if she were a child, George, I cannot 
 imagine," Lady Brett returned. " She is thirty, 
 or very near it, she certainly has not much of the 
 innocence of youth, and never since I have known 
 her has she been little. I did not say that she 
 had any right to look down upon us; but as a 
 matter of fact she does, and she loses no occasion 
 of showing it, and she will probably show it 
 to-night. Not, of course, that that is of any 
 consequence."
 
 ILL-NATURED MRS. DELAMERE. 131 
 
 If Sir George had believed such a thing to be 
 possible, he would have thought it of very great 
 consequence ; but he did not and could not believe 
 anything of the sort. There had been passages 
 of arms between his wife and Eustace's wife ; 
 more than once he himself had been drawn into 
 the fray, and he had even been obliged to speak 
 his mind pretty plainly to his brother. These 
 family differences had, however, been less fre- 
 quent of late, he had no desire that they should 
 be renewed, and, although he considered it likely 
 enough that Marcia's pretty head might have 
 been turned by the attentions paid to her in high 
 quarters, he did not suspect her of the enormity 
 laid to her charge. He therefore contented him- 
 self with remarking — 
 
 ''Marcia's manner is occasionally distant, I 
 have noticed. In all probability, a symptom of 
 shyness rather than of pride." 
 
 It was now Lady Brett's turn to laugh, and she 
 did so. She was one of those agreeable people 
 who seldom laugh unless they are angr}-, and 
 whose laughter is high, diy, and unmirthful. She 
 was explaining to her husband that, whatever 
 might be her sister-in-law's shortcomings, timidity 
 was scarcely to be counted amongst their number, 
 when the first of the guests whom they were about
 
 132 MARCIA. 
 
 to receive at dinner was announced, and interrupted 
 her. 
 
 Sir George and Lady Brett's dinner-parties were 
 done on a very large scale. There was a super- 
 abundance of food, a superabundance of people to 
 devour it, and one might have said that there was 
 a superabundance of servants, only that, perhaps, 
 is not possible. With regard to the composition 
 of these assemblages very little trouble was taken. 
 So long as Lady Brett did not bring two deadly 
 enemies together (and even this occurred from 
 time to time through inadvertence), she conceived 
 that she had fulfilled the whole duty of a hostess, 
 and, when she saw four-and-twenty gloomy coun- 
 tenances congregated round her board, she did 
 not feel that she was in any way responsible for 
 their gloom. The countenance of Mr. Brett, who 
 arrived early, was gloomier than usual, and this 
 his sister-in-law at once noticed. She greeted 
 him with her accustomed air of compassion, 
 pressing his hand and saying — 
 
 *' My dear Eustace, how ill you are looking ! 
 What have you done with Marcia ? Was she 
 such a long time arranging her dress before the 
 glass that you came upstairs without her ? " 
 
 *' I am quite well, thank you," answered Mr. 
 Brett, with a touch of fretfulness (for there was
 
 ILL-NATURED MRS. DELAMERE. 133 
 
 nothing that he hated so much as to be told that 
 he was looking ill) ; ** but Marcia, I am soi*ry to 
 say, is not. She has gone to bed with a very bad 
 headache, and I must beg you to accept her sincere 
 apologies." 
 
 There was not much chance that she would 
 either accept them, or place faith in their sin- 
 cerity. Of this he was fully aware, and he was 
 ready to submit patiently to any censure that 
 might be passed upon the defaulter ; but it seemed 
 a little hard that he should be punished for what 
 was assuredly no sin of his. 
 
 "Oh, a headache?" said Lady Brett, with a 
 repetition of her wrathful laugh. " Dear me ! 
 Well, I am sorry you thought it necessary to 
 come without her, Eustace ; a note would have 
 done quite well. And now, you see, we shall be 
 an uneven number." 
 
 " Shall I go away again ? " asked Mr. Brett. 
 
 "Oh, of course not; I didn't mean that. But 
 it is rather tiresome ; because I shall have to 
 re-arrange everything now." And, seeing her 
 husband at her elbow, she derived some consola- 
 tion from saying to him, with a meaning smile, 
 "Marcia is not going to honour us with her 
 company to-night. She has — ahem! — a bad 
 headache."
 
 134 MABCIA. 
 
 "Oh, indeed!" answered Sir George. **I am 
 sorry to hear that." 
 
 Sir George had bushy grey eyebrows which, 
 when he was displeased, met above his snub nose 
 and gave the upper part of his face an appearance 
 of truculence which was somewhat ludicrously 
 contradicted by the insignificance of his mouth 
 and chin. He had, however, a long upper lip ; 
 so that a physiognomist might have guessed the 
 man to be vindictive and obstinate, notwithstand- 
 ing — or possibly on account of — the weakness of 
 his character. His brother, who understood him, 
 knew that he never forgave an affront, and was 
 not surprised to hear him say — 
 
 ''Dinner engagements sometimes bring on a 
 headache, I believe. We must endeavour to do 
 what in us lies to prevent the recurrence of such 
 attacks in Marcia's case." 
 
 Obviously the matter could not be allowed to 
 rest there ; so Mr. Brett drew his brother aside 
 for a moment, and began — 
 
 ** I very much regret that Marcia has been 
 compelled to disappoint you " 
 
 " Oh, not at all ! — no disappointment at all, I 
 assure you," interrupted Sir George. ''Marcia 
 has only to please herself and she will please us ; 
 pray tell her so from me. Humble as we
 
 ILL- XA TUBED MBS. DELAMERE. 135 
 
 are, we have no desii-e to entertain reluctant 
 guests." 
 
 Poor Mr. Brett sighed. irritably. ''I cannot tell 
 you whether Marcia is or is not reluctant to be 
 your guest, George," said he; "her tastes and 
 mine differ, and we do not often communicate 
 them to each other. But, to the best of my belief, 
 her headache is quite genuine, and I can honestly 
 say that I do not think she is in a fit state to dine 
 out. She has been very much upset by parting 
 with our boy, whom we left at school to-day." 
 
 Sir George looked slightly mollified ; but per- 
 haps he deemed it beneath his dignity to come 
 out of the sulks without more ado ; for he only 
 observed, *' It is a wise rule to keep appointments, 
 even at the cost of some personal inconvenience. 
 If I had not adhered to that rule through life, 
 I suppose I should have been in the Bankruptcy 
 Court before now." 
 
 The younger brother fell back, feeling that there 
 was no more to be said. His anticipations had 
 been fully verified ; George had taken oft'ence, and 
 what made this additionally vexatious was that, 
 by his way of thinking, George had some right 
 to take offence. It was quite true that appoint- 
 ments ought to be kept, and it was probably also 
 true that Marcia might have kept hers by making
 
 136 MAR CIA. 
 
 a small effort. But Marcia did not choose to 
 make efforts in the required direction, and his own 
 were obviously useless. He wished with all his 
 heart that he had stayed at home, instead of 
 coming in vain to this dismal banquet. 
 
 Presently the door was flung open, there was a 
 little stir among the company, and he was intro- 
 duced to a Mrs. Delamere, a thin, faded woman, 
 whose dress was cut very low, whose cheeks were 
 painted, and whose yellow hair, or wig, was be- 
 sprinkled with diamonds. He bowed and offered 
 her his arm mechanically. It was a matter of 
 perfect indifference to him whether the person 
 beside whom he was doomed to sit through two 
 weary hours was young or old, fat or thin, coloured 
 or plain. He thought of a few commonplaces to 
 utter for her benefit, and scarcely listened to her 
 replies. After they had taken their seats at the 
 dinner-table she began to talk about the pictures 
 in the Academy, which seemed to show a lament- 
 able lack of original ideas on the part of so smart- 
 looking a lady ; but possibly she had her reasons 
 for bringing forward that threadbare topic, and 
 Mr. Brett pricked up his ears when he heard her 
 mention the name of Archdale. 
 
 *' I like Mr. Archdale's pictures," Mrs. Delamere 
 was saying, " but — perhaps I had better not go
 
 ILL-NATURED MRS. DELAMERE. 137 
 
 on, though. He is a great friend of yours, isn't 
 he •? " 
 
 "No; only a slight acquaintance," answered 
 Mr. Brett, turning his tired eyes interrogatively 
 towards his neighbour. 
 
 '' Oh, not a great friend of yours ? I thought 
 perhaps he might be, as he is such a very great 
 friend of your wife's. Though, to be sure, that 
 isn't always a reason, is it ? " 
 
 " You may safely abuse him, if that is what you 
 wish to do," replied Mr. Brett; for, notwithstand- 
 ing his coldness and insensibility, he thought, as 
 most men do, that women have no business to be 
 impertinent unless they are pretty. 
 
 Mrs. Delamere was not disconcerted. " I wasn't 
 going to abuse him," said she, "but I confess 
 that I don't particularly like him. He is rather 
 too much of a professional lady-killer for my 
 taste." 
 
 " Oh, he is a professional lady-killer, is he '? " 
 asked Mr. Brett absently. 
 
 " Your acquaintance with him must indeed be 
 slight if you haven't discovered that yet. Why, 
 it is the man's sole raison d'etre — socially speak- 
 ing, I mean. I don't quarrel with him for flirting, 
 because of course he is good-looking, and perhaps 
 he can't very well help himself, but he shouldn't
 
 138 MARCTA. 
 
 parade his conquests as he does. It is hardly 
 fair play, you know." 
 
 Eustace Brett might look dull, and it was not 
 surprising that he should look dull, seeing that 
 he generally felt so, but he had wit enough to 
 understand the insinuation and dignity enough 
 to resent it. He said, '' I was not aware that 
 Mr. Archdale paraded his conquests; but, if he 
 does, you are, no doubt, quite right in disapprov- 
 ing of his bad taste. Personally, I do not feel 
 sufficient interest in him to care very much 
 whether his taste is good or bad." 
 
 "Although he is such a great friend of your 
 wife's ? " asked the irrepressible Mrs. Delamere. 
 
 '' With regard to questions of taste, my wife is 
 at least as good a judge as I. If, therefore, Mr. 
 Archdale is a great friend of hers — but I am not 
 convinced that he is — that would, to my mind, 
 be presumptive evidence in his favour. I should 
 imagine that you have been misinformed about 
 him, but really it does not signify." 
 
 Not without a certain effort did Mr. Brett thus 
 snub a willing witness. Clearly Marcia had been 
 guilty of some indiscretion which this woman 
 knew all about and was eager to communicate to 
 him, but he could not receive such testimony. He 
 looked her straight in the face, and she returned
 
 ILL-NATrRED MRS. DEL A MERE. 139 
 
 his gaze steadily, dropping the corners of her 
 mouth with an air of mocking commiseration. 
 But she was cowed. He had at least the poor 
 satisfaction of knowing that, whatever calumnies 
 might be upon the tip of her tongue, she had not 
 the courage to let them pass her lips in his pre- 
 sence. She did not trouble him with much more 
 of her conversation after this, and, as the lady 
 who was placed upon his left hand took no notice 
 of him, he sat mute, thinking his own thoughts 
 and wishing for the end of the outrageously long 
 menu. 
 
 To those who have allowed their minds to dwell 
 upon the idea of eternity it must always be a 
 consolatory reflection that in this world, at any 
 rate, all things are finite, and even Sir George 
 Brett's dinners, like the east winds of spring and 
 the sermons of certain ecclesiastics, moved towards 
 an appointed end, though of course it was not 
 easy to realize this so long as they were in full 
 swing. At a quarter to eleven the ladies left the 
 dining-room, and then Sir George, who had appa- 
 rently recovered his good humour, was kind 
 enough to address some amiable remarks to his 
 brother. 
 
 *' So you've got rid of that young scapegrace of 
 yours, eh ? A very good thing, too ! He'll have
 
 140 MAR CIA. 
 
 some chance to show what stuff he is made of now. 
 I'm sure I hope he will turn out well, for it looks 
 as though he would he the only one of his genera- 
 tion to bear our name." 
 
 There was a significance about this observation 
 which may not have been wholly unintentional, 
 but it scarcely affected Mr. Brett, whose mind was 
 otherwise engaged. He was himself so honest, so 
 upright, so strictly true to his narrow code of 
 morality, that he could not suspect his wife of 
 disloyalty without a sense of personal humiliation. 
 He did not, in truth, suspect her of anything worse 
 than folly ; but it was not very pleasant to him to 
 suspect Marcia even of that, and it was very far 
 from pleasant to him, when he went up to the 
 drawing-room, to see Caroline rise, with an air of 
 joyous alacrity, from the sofa upon which she had 
 been sitting beside Mrs. Delamere and make 
 straight for him. For he at once perceived that 
 he was about to be informed of something that he 
 would rather not hear. 
 
 Lady Brett, as her habit was, wasted no time 
 in circumlocution, but drew him aside and said 
 bluntly — 
 
 *' Eustace, I want to speak to you about Marcia. 
 You know me well enough to know that I am not 
 malicious, and that her having treated me so
 
 ILL-NATURED MBS. DELAMEEE. 141 
 
 unceremoniously as she has done to-night and on 
 former occasions would never make me wish to do 
 her an injury. But, for her own sake, to say 
 nothing of yours, I feel I ought to tell you that she 
 is being talked about in a way which should not be 
 allowed to go on. You don't go out, so you cannot 
 see or hear what takes place in society ; but it 
 seems to be notorious that that man Archdale is 
 always at her elbow, and that he makes a boast of 
 — well, I am afraid I must call it her infatuation 
 for him. You know — or perhaps you don't know — 
 that there was a fancy fair at the Albert Hall this 
 afternoon, which was patronized by all the great 
 ladies. For some reason or other, Mr. Ai-chdale is 
 also patronized by the great ladies just now, and I 
 am told that at one of their stalls he was selling 
 some water-colours and sketches of his, amongst 
 which was a portrait of your wife, inscribed 
 'Marcia.' Everybody who knew her recognized 
 it at a glance, and naturally everybody wondered 
 what business be had to make use of her Christian 
 name." 
 
 " If he did that," answered Mr. Brett slowly, 
 "he was very impertinent. I have, however, no 
 grounds for supposing that his impertinence was 
 sanctioned by my wife. Mrs. Delamere is your 
 informant, I presume."
 
 142 MARCIA. 
 
 *' It was from Mrs. Delamere that I heard about 
 the sketch ; others have told me that Marcia and 
 Mr. Archdale are inseparable. Personally, I have 
 no ambition to force my way into aristocratic 
 houses; I do not belong to the aristocracy by 
 birth, and I am contented with the position which 
 it has pleased Providence to assign to me. There- 
 fore I am obliged to judge of Marcia's conduct by 
 hearsay." 
 
 " Quite so," agreed Mr. Brett, with some slight 
 asperity ; " and, if you are obliged to judge of it at 
 all, Mrs. Delamere' s authority may, for anything 
 that I know to the contrary, be an excellent one 
 for you to base your judgment upon. For my own 
 part, I should hesitate to rely implicitly upon it, 
 because Mrs. Delamere struck me as ill-natured, 
 and I dare say she may once have been pretty. 
 
 Lady Brett frowned and tossed up her chin. 
 "Oh, my dear Eustace," she said, *'that accusa- 
 tion of jealousy is such a very stale one to bring 
 against women, and yet every man who makes it 
 appears to think that it is a brand-new discovery 
 of his own ! In reality, Mrs. Delamere spoke quite 
 kindly of Marcia. She blamed Mr. Archdale, and 
 I think she was right, and so, I am sure, do you. 
 You cannot think it desirable that gossip should 
 connect your wife's name with his, and I hope and
 
 ILL-NATURED MBS. DELAMERE. 143 
 
 believe that you will take steps to put an end to 
 such gossip. Mind, I am not interfering or 
 advising — I never do interfere with anybody, as you 
 know — I am merely giving you a caution. Con- 
 scientiously, I could do no less." 
 
 "I am very much indebted to you," answered 
 Mr. Brett gravely. 
 
 Without any irony or figure of speech, he did 
 feel indebted to her, though he considered that he 
 was in duty bound to repress her. She was not 
 the most amiable woman in the world, but he 
 believed her to be honest, pious, and animated by 
 the best intentions. On his way home he had to 
 ask himself what his own intentions were, and the 
 question was a hard one to answer. He was too 
 proud to relish the part of a suspicious husband, 
 too nervous and irritable to despise scandalous 
 whisperings, and too scrupulously honest to blink 
 at the fact that, if his wife was criticised after a 
 fashion which was hateful to him, the fault was in 
 a great measure his own. He had no right to scold 
 her, nor any wish to accuse her ; at the bottom of 
 his heart, what he desired was to say nothing to 
 her about Archdale or about that unauthorized 
 exhibition of her portrait. And eventually — as was 
 perhaps rendered inevitable by the conditions of the 
 case — this was the course which he decided to adopt.
 
 IM- MAECIA. 
 
 He would not retail gossip, he would not provoke a 
 scene, he would not forbid Marcia to speak to Arch- 
 dale ; but in future he would go out with her more 
 frequently than he had hitherto done, and the 
 evidence of his own senses would tell him what 
 step, if any, he ought to take. 
 
 It would have been simpler and wiser to tell her 
 frankly what he had heard, and to remind her that 
 public opinion, whether just or unjust, cannot safely 
 be disregarded ; but poor Eustace Brett was neither 
 simple nor wise. Had he been the one or the 
 other, he probably would not, on reaching his 
 study, have sunk into an armchair, and, dropping 
 his head upon his hands, have muttered despair- 
 ingly, *' I am sick and weary of it all ! I wish to 
 Heaven I had died when I seemed to be so near 
 death ! "
 
 ( 1^^ ) 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 MR. BRETT IS VERY UNWISE. 
 
 If we all agreed to make no secret of our mental 
 and physical sufferings, the world might perhaps 
 be a more interesting place to live in than it is, hut 
 it would probably be a good deal less comfortable. 
 In every civilized communit}', and even in some 
 uncivilized ones, it is held, not without reason, that 
 pain ought to be submitted to silently, and that to 
 moan and groan in public is both cowardly and ill- 
 bred. Marcia Brett could scarcely be called weU- 
 bred in the strict sense of the term, for she had not 
 the most remote idea of who her great-grandfather 
 had been ; but she had learnt to conform to the 
 usages of the society which she frequented, and 
 after Wilhe had been taken from her she went 
 about the world, like most other people, with a 
 smile upon her lips, and ready phrases at the tip 
 of her toDgue, and a dull ache about the region of 
 the heart which never wholly ceased, though it 
 was more acute at some moments than at others. 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 MAR CIA. 
 
 It was no comfort to her (though doubtless it 
 should have been) to receive the boy's cheerful 
 letters, and to hear that he was well and happy. 
 His health had always been good, and he was such 
 a friendly and plucky little fellow that there was 
 small danger of his failing to hit it off with other 
 mortals either at school or elsewhere. The sad 
 thing was that his childhood was at an end, and 
 that never again through time and eternity could 
 his mother be to him what she had once been. 
 
 During these melancholy weeks, Marcia found 
 her chief consolation in the company of Mr. Arch- 
 dale, whom she frequently met, and whose atten- 
 tions caused her a pleasurable excitement, the 
 causes of which she did not care to analyze. She 
 heard (though not from her husband) the story of 
 his having hawked about a likeness of her at the 
 Albert Hall, and her first feeling was certainly one 
 of annoyance that he should have taken so great a 
 liberty ; but his reply, when charged with this 
 offence, was of a nature to disarm hostility. 
 
 "Do you mind?" he asked wonderingly. ''I 
 had no idea that you would, or, of course, I 
 wouldn't have done it. Perhaps I am wrong, but 
 it always seems to me that a beautiful face is in a 
 certain sense public property — in the same sense, 
 I mean, as places like Chats worth and Eaton and
 
 MR. BBETT IS VERY UXWISE. 147 
 
 Alnwick. The owners of those places have a 
 perfect right to close them against everybody 
 except their friends, but it would be rather churlish 
 of them if they did, don't you think so ? " 
 
 " The public is very welcome to gaze upon my 
 features, or upon a reproduction of them," an- 
 swered Marcia, laughing and colouring a little ; 
 ''I didn't so much object to that as to your using 
 my Christian name as a label. At least, that was 
 what my husband objected to." 
 
 " Oh, it was your husband who objected ! But 
 he is rather given to objecting, isn't he ? Still, I 
 dare say I ought not to have done it. "My only 
 excuse is that I honestly thought you would prefer 
 a sort of anonymity to being boldly advertised as 
 airs. Brett.'" 
 
 " Perhaps I might have preferred to avoid 
 advertisement of any kind," observed ITarcia, with 
 a smile. " Don't you think you might have just 
 ascertained my wishes before you took upon your- 
 self to advertise me ? " 
 
 Archdale sighed. '' The world has corrupted 
 me," he answered ; '' it isn't easy for me to realize 
 that a beautiful woman may really dislike notoriety. 
 Well, now I suppose I have only made my case 
 worse. What can I say ? I am very, very sorry, 
 Mrs. Brett, and please will you forgive me ? "
 
 148 MAE CIA. 
 
 He assumed an attitude of humility, pressed the 
 tips of his fingers together, and gazed pleadingly 
 into her eyes. Perhaps it was because he looked 
 so handsome and so penitent, perhaps it was 
 because he had twice called her beautiful within 
 the space of a few minutes, that Marcia readily 
 pardoned him. 
 
 " Only don't do it again," she said, ''because I 
 don't very much like it ; and, although Eustace 
 hasn't spoken directly to me upon the subject, 
 I know by his manner that he dislikes it very 
 particularly." 
 
 Now there was no denying that Mr. Brett was 
 entitled to dislike it. That much Marcia inwardly 
 acknowledged, nor was she ungrateful to him for 
 the reticence which he had displayed ; but what 
 first surprised and then angered her was his 
 novel and persistent determination to force upon 
 her an escort with which she had learned to 
 dispense. 
 
 " You have often told me that I ought to go out 
 more with you," he answered dryly, when she 
 remonstrated with him for over-tiring himself by 
 attending three balls in one night. "I begin to 
 see that you are right, and I shall try to do my 
 duty, so long as my strength will serve me." 
 
 " I am sorry that you should feel bound to make
 
 MB. BRETT IS VEBY UXWISE. 149 
 
 a martyr of yourself," returned Marcia, vexed by 
 the tacit reproach. 
 
 She really could not give u^d all social intercourse 
 to please him. Once upon a time she might per- 
 haps have been persuaded to make that sacrifice, 
 but it was far too late now. Long ago it had been 
 agreed between them that they should go their 
 respective ways, each without let or hindrance 
 from the other, and she, for her part, did not 
 desire to cancel the agreement. If, for some 
 reason best known to himself, he intended to make 
 a change in his habits, that was his affair. 
 
 And naturally it did not take her very long to 
 discover what his reason was. Often, while she 
 was chatting with Archdale, and while her spirits 
 (which fell every morning when, through mere 
 force of habit, she peeped into Willie's empty 
 room) were beginning to rise again, she had a dis- 
 agreeable sensation of being watched by somebody, 
 and, sure enough, she would presently descry at a 
 distance of some few yards a pair- of faded, tired 
 eyes fixed upon her — eyes which expressed neither 
 blame nor remonstrance nor wrath, but merely a 
 sort of dull patience. It was anything but a patient 
 look that flashed from her own as she met them. 
 What did he mean ? What did he suspect ? 
 What did he want? Jealousy she could have
 
 150 MABCIA. 
 
 forgiven, but this was not jealousy, it was sheer 
 espionage. 
 
 In truth, poor Mr. Brett could hardly have 
 adopted a more foolish line of conduct than that 
 which had recommended itself to him. He was no 
 spy : yet he managed to look exactly like one, and 
 if his motive for hovering near his wife was to stop 
 the mouths of the scandal-mongers, not to inter- 
 fere with her liberty of action, so much chivalry 
 was scarcely to be inferred from his demeanour. 
 In reality he was not dissatisfied with what he 
 saw. He had no fancy for Archdale and wondered 
 at her taste in making a friend of the man ; but 
 she did not, so far as he was able to judge, favour 
 Archdale more than she had favoured a dozen 
 others. At the bottom of his heart there lurked a 
 conviction, which he had always evaded putting 
 into the form of a distinct thought, that Marcia 
 loved herself too much to be capable of loving any 
 other human being too much. 
 
 But Marcia, pardonably enough, failed to discern 
 all this. "What was quite evident was that Eustace 
 had resolved to dog her steps, and the futility of 
 the proceeding was scarcely less exasperating to 
 her than its impertinence. For how in the w^orld 
 is a Metropolitan Police-magistrate to discharge 
 his daily duties and undertake those of an amateur
 
 MB. BRETT IS YEBY UNWISE. 151 
 
 detective into the bargain ? His absurd conduct 
 invited and almost defied her to outwit him. But 
 for that imaginary defiance, she woukl not, per- 
 haps, have made so many appointments to meet 
 Archdale in the Park, at Hurlingham, at luncheon- 
 parties and tea-parties. So they met continually, 
 and of course their intimacy was remarked upon, 
 and at length Lady Wetherby availed herself of the 
 privilege of an old friend to say — 
 
 " x\ren't you a little imprudent, Marcia ? Mr. 
 Archdale is a clever artist, and I dare say he may 
 be very pleasant company ; but he isn't worth 
 getting into trouble about, and you know as well as 
 I do that a woman always gets into trouble when 
 her neighbours begin to accuse her of finding some 
 man's company more pleasant than she ought." 
 
 '*0h, I am sick of being prudent!" answered 
 Marcia impatiently. ''What difference does it 
 make ? Spiteful people will always find an excuse 
 for being spiteful, and, so long as one does nothing 
 wrong, why should one bother one's head about 
 them?" 
 
 Lady "Wetherby made a faint dissentient murmur. 
 She would have liked to ask what her friend's 
 definition of " doing nothing wrong " was, but was 
 too sensible to put so useless a question. How- 
 ever, there seemed to be no harm in remarking
 
 152 MARCIA. 
 
 that some women were so situated as to be more 
 open than others to the attacks of spite, and in 
 deploring Mr. Brett's stay-at-home habits. 
 
 "But he doesn't stay at home any longer now," 
 returned Marcia, with a short laugh; "he has 
 taken to pursuing me like my shadow of late, and 
 no entertainment is complete without him. You 
 may imagine how he enjoys it ! " 
 
 This was not very satisfactory hearing to one 
 who wished Marcia well, and Lady Wetherby was 
 glad to think that the London season was within 
 a few weeks of its close. Her kindness of heart 
 prompted her to say, upon the spur of the moment, 
 "I wish you would come down to Wetherby with 
 us when we go, Marcia. It will be dull, of course, 
 because we are to have no visitors at first, I 
 believe; but the rest will be good for you after 
 such a long course of gaiety, and, if you don't get 
 tired of us, we shall keep you until Mr. Brett takes 
 his holiday." 
 
 "I never get tired of you, Laura," answered 
 Marcia; "you and Willie are the only two people 
 in the world who don't weary me." She paused 
 for a moment and sighed slightly before she added, 
 "Yes; I think I should like to go to Wetherby 
 with you. When is the move to be made ? " 
 
 "In about ten days, I hope. We have had
 
 MR. BEETT IS VERY UNWISE. 153 
 
 quite enough of London for this summer, and so, 
 I should think, have you." 
 
 Marcia nodded and sighed once more. For the 
 moment she did feel that it would be a relief to 
 escape from the tui-moil of London to the green 
 lawns and leafy glades of Wetherby. She felt, 
 too, that Laui'a was right in accusing her of 
 imprudence ; and although she had fully intended 
 to be imprudent, she did not quite like to hear how 
 successfully her intentions had been carried out. 
 It was all very well to protest indifference to the 
 opinion of spiteful persons, but her nature woukl 
 not really allow her to be indifferent to anybody's 
 opinion, and, if Mr. Ai'chdale was not worth 
 getting into trouble about, assuredly Eustace was 
 not. It would be the height of folly to place in 
 jeopardy the position which she had laboriously 
 held during so many years for the sake of punishing 
 one man who was incapable of loving her and 
 giving some temporary gratification to another, 
 who would probably forget her existence before she 
 had been a week out of his sight. 
 
 But when all was arranged, and when Mr. Brett 
 had signified his cordial approval of the proposed 
 plan, she began to wish that she had not been in 
 such a hurry. Had she so many friends that she 
 must needs deprive herself of the one who was
 
 154 MAECIA. 
 
 most congenial to her ? And was there any 
 reasonable likelihood of Mr. Archdale's possessing 
 a heart of the kind which absence causes to grow 
 fonder ? It was not without some nervousness 
 and hesitation that she informed him of her 
 impending departure ; for she was sure that he 
 would be greatly distressed, and she dreaded the 
 questions which he might be expected to ask upon 
 the subject. He surprised her by receiving the 
 news quite composedly. 
 
 "So you are going to Wetherby?" he said. 
 " That's capital ! I'm going there too." 
 
 ''But not just yet, are you?" asked Marcia. 
 "Laura said nothing about it. In fact I under- 
 stood that there was to be nobody but themselves 
 in the house." 
 
 "Well, I'm nobody; I'm only the artist who 
 comes to paint the walls. When Lord Wetherby 
 gave me the order he said I might choose my own 
 time for executing it, and now I shall avail myself 
 of that gracious permission." 
 
 Marcia gave him several good reasons for 
 waiting until he was asked. It was absurd to 
 speak of himself as though he were a mere house- 
 decorator; when he visited Wetherby he must of 
 course do so as a guest ; both Laura and Lord 
 Wetherby were anxious, she believed, to lead a life
 
 ME. BRETT IS VERY UXWISE. 155 
 
 of absolute retirement for a few weeks ; lie would 
 find the place much more enjoyable later in the 
 year, when the shooting-parties would have begun. 
 "Besides," she added at length, perceiving that 
 none of these arguments moved him, " they will 
 certainly think that you wish to go there now 
 because I am going." 
 
 "Naturally they will," he repHed calmly; "that's 
 just what I shall tell them." 
 
 Marcia could not help laughing. "Perhaps it 
 will be just as well if you do," she said ; " for then 
 they will undoubtedly request you to postpone 
 your visit." ' 
 
 " Do you mean that you would prefer my room 
 to my company?" he asked quickly. "In that 
 case, I need hardly say that I won't attempt to 
 force myself upon you." 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders slightly. " I think 
 you know what I mean," she answered. "It will 
 be rather dull at Wetherby, but sometimes dulness 
 has to be endured." 
 
 "Only when it is unavoidable, though. I am 
 quite sure that I shall not be able to endure the 
 dulness of London after you have left, so, with 
 your permission, I shall throw myself upon the 
 good nature and hospitality of the Wetherbys. I 
 don't a bit mind their knowing that your presence
 
 156 MARCIA. 
 
 in the house will be a powerful attraction to me : 
 why shouldn't it be ? " 
 
 Marcia neither gave her permission nor refused 
 it. She could not very well be more explicit than 
 she had been, and she said to herself that, if he 
 was bent upon courting a rebuff, he must be 
 allowed to do so. Since there was not the smallest 
 chance of his obtaining the invitation of which he 
 made so sure, she felt at liberty to regret that 
 inability and to rejoice a little on his admission that 
 he would find London unbearably dull without her. 
 
 But it was with no apprehension of being rebuffed 
 that Archdale went to call upon Lady Wetherby 
 on the following day. Experience, by the light of 
 which we are all wont to steer (and a poor sort of 
 light it is, though perhaps the best obtainable), 
 had long ago taught him that he could get almost 
 anything that he wanted by asking for it prettily, 
 and, although he was not very warmly received, it 
 was with all his usual self-confidence and cheerful- 
 ness that he began — 
 
 '' So you're off to the country, I hear, Lady 
 Wetherby. I'm very glad of it, because I want to 
 get away from London too, and I don't think there 
 could be a better time for me to make a start with 
 the famous panels. Could you put me up if I ran 
 down in about a w^eek or ten days ? "
 
 MR. BRETT IS VERY UXWISE. 157 
 
 ''Oh, there is no hui'ry about the panels," 
 answered Lady Wetherby in a tone which was not 
 meant to be encouraging. 
 
 "Ah, I'm afraid there's never any hun-y where 
 my work is concerned. I'm diligent, but I'm 
 incurably slow, and I really ought not to put off 
 the beginning of this job any longer. Moreover, 
 Mrs. Brett tells me that she is to be your only 
 guest for some weeks to come, so that if I go down 
 now I shall not be in the people's wa}' and there 
 will be nobody to interrupt me." 
 
 " You think there would be no interruptions ? " 
 
 Ai'chdale laughed. " None of a deleterious kind,"' 
 he answered. *' Mrs. Brett won't be an interruption, 
 you know, she'U be an inspu-ation." 
 
 " I don't think there is any occasion for us to 
 take you away from London before the end of the 
 season," said Lady Wetherby coldly. 
 
 ''But when I tell you that I am dying to leave 
 London ! Now, I know quite well what you are 
 thinking, and you are both right and wrong. You 
 are right about my wishing to be in the same 
 house with Mrs. Brett, whom I still adore in my 
 innocent way, but you are quite wrong in setting 
 me down as dangerous. Eeally and truly I am not 
 dangerous." 
 
 Ladv Wetherbv tried for a moment to maintain
 
 158 MAR CIA. 
 
 a dignified demeanour, but could not manage it. 
 "If you care to know what I think," said she, 
 '' I think you a good deal more conceited than 
 dangerous ; but that may not be generally under- 
 stood, and I suppose you must be aware that 
 there has been a certain amount of gossip about 
 Marcia and you lately. Therefore, if it is the 
 same thing to you, I would rather ask you to come 
 to us in August or September than now." 
 
 "But it isn't at all the same thing to me," 
 returned the irrepressible Archdale. " How very 
 unkind you are ! Mayn't I come if I promise and 
 swear to behave with the utmost propriety ? " 
 
 This sort of pleading, which he had found effec- 
 tive in other quarters, was not quite the best that 
 he could have adopted in his present difficulty, 
 and he would no doubt have promised and sworn 
 in vain if Lord Wetherby had not chanced to enter 
 the room before he left it. To that good-natured 
 and easy-going personage he at once appealed. 
 
 "I say, Lord Wetherby, I want to go down to 
 your place in a week, and set to work, and Lady 
 Wetherby won't have me, because she is afraid I 
 shall flirt with Mrs. Brett. Did you ever hear of 
 anything more unfounded and ridiculous ! Why, 
 I shall be daubing away at the walls pretty nearly 
 all day long ! "
 
 MR. BRETT IS VERY UXWISE. 159 
 
 ''My good fellow," answered Lord "Wetherby, 
 ''if you aren't afraid of Mrs. Brett, I don't think 
 we need be alarmed on her account. Mrs. Brett 
 can take pretty good care of herself. By all 
 means, come whenever it suits you ; only don't 
 blame me if you get a broken heart for your pains." 
 
 Archdale seized his advantage with commend- 
 able promptitude. "Thanks awfully," said he, 
 "that's all right, then. I'll make my preparations, 
 and drop you a line as soon as I'm ready to 
 begin. Good-bye." And he was out of the house 
 before another word could be uttered. 
 
 Lady Wetherby had an admirable temper, but 
 this was more than she could stand. " Everybody 
 knows," she told her husband, "that you have no 
 discrimination, but I really do think that, for my 
 sake if for no one else's, you might have snubbed 
 that man. How he can have the impudence to 
 accept an invitation which I had just refused point- 
 blank to give him, passes my comprehension ! " 
 
 "He is a little bit cheeky, perhaps," agreed 
 Lord Wetherby, with a meditative smile. 
 
 " Cheek is no word for it ! Well, since you have 
 asked him, I suppose he must come ; but I warn 
 you, that I shall turn him out of the house 
 without ceremony if he doesn't behave himself. 
 I only hope and trust that people won't hear what 
 an idiotic thing we have done."
 
 160 MAECIA. 
 
 CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 AT WETHERBY. 
 
 Wetherby is one of those vast, solid, north- 
 country mansions which excite admiration rather 
 than a spirit of covetousness in the breast of the 
 beholder. Standing upon high ground, this huge, 
 weather-worn pile of grey stone commands from 
 its many windows a wide view over the counties 
 of Yorkshire and Durham, upon the borders of 
 which it is situated, and presents a sufficiently 
 imposing appearance by reason of its size, though 
 its architectural merits are scarcely of the first 
 order. When the wind blows from the north-east 
 (a happy condition of things which commonly 
 prevails throughout the autumn, winter, and 
 spring), it is cold beyond all power of words to 
 describe, or of any furnace to overcome ; it is 
 lonely because the extent of its owner's territory 
 converts near neighbours into distant ones, and 
 it is dreary apart from climatic disadvantages, 
 because no house-party large enough to fill it
 
 AT WETEEPiBY. 161 
 
 can possibly be assembled within its walls. 
 Nevertheless, this bleak domain is not always 
 bleak. In hot summers (for even Durham and 
 Yorkshire have a summer, and even England, as 
 we know, can boast of a hot one every now and 
 again) the whispering woods and grassy glades 
 of Wetherby afford a retreat which to man}^ a 
 weary Londoner would seem like Paradise, nor 
 was their beauty thrown away upon Marcia Brett, 
 who sometimes fancied that she enjoyed solitude 
 and communion with Nature. If this was quite a 
 mistake — as in all probability it was — sufficient time 
 to discover her error was not granted to her ; for she 
 had not tasted the delights of sylvan existence for 
 three days, when her hostess remarked casually : — 
 
 *' Mr. Ai'chdale is to arrive this evening. I 
 forget whether I told you that he is to paint the 
 panels of the ball-room for us. It will be a long 
 job, and it will keep him busy all day long; so I 
 dare say he will not be much in our way." 
 
 Marcia both felt and looked astonished; but 
 Lady Wetherby did not choose to notice that. 
 ''He asked himself," she explained. ''Artists, 
 I suppose, must be allowed such privileges, though 
 they are sometimes a little inconvenient. One 
 comfort is, that I don't feel called upon to provide 
 entertainment for him." 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 MARC I A. 
 
 An irrepressible smile appeared for a moment 
 upon Marcia's lips : she may have thought that 
 the task of entertaining Mr. Archdale might safely 
 be committed to her. But this, it needs scarcely 
 be said, was by no means Lady Wetherby's view 
 of the case; nor was the young artist, who duly 
 appeared at the dinner-table that night, suffered 
 to forget that he had joined the party in a purely 
 professional capacity. He could not, of course, be 
 prevented from spending a part of the evening 
 with the ladies ; but he could be, and was, pre- 
 vented from spending a single minute with one 
 of them alone. And, on the following morning, he 
 was informed, in the most considerate way, that 
 nobody would think of interrupting him at his 
 labours. If he preferred to have his luncheon 
 brought to him in the ball-room, he was to ring 
 the bell and say so ; he was to make himself quite 
 at home, and to order anything that he wanted, 
 including a horse, when he felt the need of exercise 
 and fresh air. 
 
 "In short," said Lady Wetherby graciously, 
 '' we shall go on just as if you were not here, and 
 you must not trouble your head about any of us." 
 
 Archdale did not allow diffidence to deter him 
 from suggesting that Mrs. Brett might like to 
 explore the neighbourhood on horseback, and
 
 AT WETEEBBY. 163 
 
 adding that he should be most happy to escort 
 her ; but, unfortunately for him, Marcia did not 
 ride, and all his ingenuity was employed in 
 vain to defeat the vigilance of her too devoted 
 friend. It was useless to bounce into the library 
 or the boudoir at unexpected times ; nothing was 
 gained by patiently promenading the garden before 
 breakfast, nor did it avail him to request Mrs. 
 Brett's honest opinion of his work, so far as it had 
 gone. Mrs. Brett was quite willing to pass 
 judgment upon his outlines, but so also was Lady 
 Wetherby ; they appeared to be absolutely insepa- 
 rable, and the most provoking part of the whole 
 business was that Marcia evidently enjoyed this 
 very poor and unduly protracted joke. 
 
 Such jokes are always enjoyed by women, and 
 Marcia was not yet weary of this one at the end 
 of the week, by which time Archdale's exasperation 
 could no longer be concealed. Knowing, as she 
 did, that neither Lady Wetherby nor anybody else 
 could prevent her from granting the interview that 
 he desired, so soon as it should please her to be 
 merciful, she naturally chose to prolong a state of 
 things which it was at her option to terminate. 
 It was, however, terminated at length by circum- 
 stances with which she had nothincr to do. A 
 political meeting having been appointed to take
 
 164 MARCIA. 
 
 place in one of the large neighbouring towns, and 
 sundry statesmen having intimated their intention 
 of speaking at it, Lord Wetherby could do no less 
 than offer hospitality to the orators and their 
 families ; and, so it came to pass, that an assembly 
 of some twenty persons claimed his wife's attention 
 one evening. Poor Lady Wetherby knew very well 
 what was sure to happen ; but how could she help 
 it ? She kept Marcia beside her after dinner, and 
 engaged her in conversation with the political 
 ladies ; but, of course, the groups broke up when 
 the men came in from the dining-room, and, 
 equally of course, Archdale succeeded in drawing 
 Mrs. Brett away to an open window, whence a 
 charming prospect of moon-lit lawn and garden 
 could be descried. 
 
 ** Don't you think it would be rather nice to go 
 outside for a few minutes?" he asked humbly. 
 '' This room is stiflingly hot, and, though I suppose 
 these people are too old and solemn to perpetrate 
 a round game, one of them is sure to be asked to 
 sing presently, which will be almost as bad." 
 
 Marcia, who w^as not looking at him and seemed 
 to be pre-occupied with thoughts of her own, 
 nodded and stepped out on to the grass without 
 more ado. Twenty-four hours earlier she would 
 perhaps have shown herself less accommodating,
 
 AT WETEERBY. 165 
 
 but it so chanced that she had received that 
 morning a letter from her husband which had not 
 only annoyed her a good deal, but had produced 
 upon her exactly the opposite effect to that which 
 it had been intended to produce ; this, unluckily, 
 was the usual fate of Mr. Brett's letters to his wife. 
 "I have been sorry," he wrote, "to hear that 
 Mr. Archdale is staying in the house with you, and 
 I confess that, if I had known he would be there, I 
 should have hesitated to let you accept Lady 
 Wetherby's invitation. You will understand that 
 I mean nothing more than I say ; only I think 
 it right to tell you — in case you do not already 
 know it — that the coincidence of joux leaving 
 London simultaneously and meeting in Yorkshire 
 will be commented upon. Under the circumstances, 
 I think it well that you should join me as soon 
 as possible, and I have arranged to move down 
 to Lynton, where I have secured a house for the 
 summer months, somewhat earlier than I had 
 intended. I have sent some of the servants to 
 make preparations. WiUie's holidays, as you 
 know, will begin in about a fortnight's time, so 
 that you will have a more powerful motive for 
 coming south than any mere wish of mine could 
 supply. I should, however, much j)refer your 
 quitting your present quarters early next week."
 
 166 MAR CI A. 
 
 Marcia thought this missive ungenerous, un- 
 manly and ungentlemanlike, and she mentally 
 applied all these epithets, besides some stronger 
 ones, to it. It was, at any rate, unwise and un- 
 profitable ; for after she had perused it she resolved 
 that nothing should induce her to leave Wetherby 
 a day sooner than she had originally proposed ; 
 furthermore, she determined that she would no 
 longer deny herself the pleasure of talking to Mr. 
 Archdale when she felt so inclined. What had she 
 done to be treated with such distrust ? Certainly, 
 if she had been minded to forget her duty, it would 
 not have been Lady Wetherby' s precautions or 
 Eustace's suspicions that would have roused her to 
 a keener sense of it. So she had not a word to 
 say against Archdale's proposal that they should 
 stroll across the garden towards the shrubberies 
 which adjoined Lord Wetherby's famous coverts, 
 nor did she resent the reproachful accents in which 
 he inquired why he had been sent to Coventry for 
 a week. 
 
 " I haven't sent you to Coventry," she answered ; 
 " but I don't wish Laura to think that I asked you 
 to come here, and she evidently does think that 
 you are only here because I am. I warned you 
 in London, you know, that she w^ould." 
 
 " Yes ; and I told you that I hadn't the sHghtest
 
 AT WETHEBBY. 167 
 
 objection to her being aware of the truth. Have 
 you any objection ? " 
 
 Marcia shrugged her shoulders. ''I have a 
 strong objection to being worried," she replied, 
 ** and of late everybody seems to have entered into 
 a conspiracy to worry me. The worst of them all 
 is my husband, because he doesn't really care in 
 the least what I do or who my friends may be." 
 
 ''Does Mr. Brett consider me an undesirable 
 friend for you ? " Archdale inquired. 
 
 " Oh, I suppose so, or else he considers it un- 
 desirable in the abstract that I should have any 
 friends at all, except women. But, as I told you, 
 he doesn't really care one way or the other. This 
 morning I had orders from him to proceed as soon 
 as possible to Devonshire, where we are to spend 
 the summer — and what an enjoyable summer it 
 will be ! He has taken a house at Lynton — have 
 you ever been there ? " 
 
 Archdale had not visited that picturesque neigh- 
 bourhood, but had long desired to make himself 
 acquainted with it, and hoped ere long to carry his 
 wish into effect. 
 
 '' Only not this year, please," said Marcia, 
 laughing. " I should be delighted to see you, but 
 I'm afraid Eustace would not ; and, as I don't 
 know a single soul in those parts, it is very
 
 168 MAR CIA. 
 
 essential to my comfort that Eustace should be 
 kept in a moderately good humour." 
 
 Her companion made no immediate rejoinder ; 
 he was walking beside her with his hands in his 
 pockets and his eyes bent upon the ground. " I 
 don't know," he began at length, " whether I am 
 going to say anything shockingly immoral, but it 
 does seem to me a great pity that marriages can't 
 be dissolved by mutual consent. Why should one 
 be made to suffer all one's life long because one 
 has fallen into a little mistake in one's youth ? " 
 
 There are obvious reasons for the existence of 
 such a state of things, and Marcia recognized them. 
 She did not, however, think it necessary to state 
 these for Mr. Archdale's benefit, but merely 
 observed, " Little mistakes lead to great disasters ; 
 it's the way of the world, and there's no help for it. 
 Still, I sometimes think it is rather hard that 
 experience should be such a useless thing. If 
 one could begin all over again, one would know 
 better and act differently ; but one can't begin 
 again." 
 
 "No," agreed Archdale, sighing; ''one can't 
 undo what is done : but one is surely entitled to 
 get such happiness out of life as remains possible. 
 Every man and every woman has a moral right, 
 for instance, to the choice of friends."
 
 AT WETHERBY. 1G9 
 
 *' Very likely ; but claiming a right isn't ahvays 
 the way to ensure hapx^iness, I'm afraid." 
 
 They continue to beat about the bush after this 
 fashion for some little time longer. Neither of 
 them perhaps quite entered into the sentiments 
 of the other, yet there was a mutual understand- 
 ing between them which was probably sufficient 
 for immediate purposes. Marcia did not care to 
 disguise the fact that she had no love for her 
 husband, while Archdale was extremely anxious 
 to make it clear that, if he himself were in that 
 fortunate man's place, no wish of hers would 
 remain ungratified. His manner was more sub- 
 dued and more respectful than usual ; he said 
 very little which might not have been said in the 
 presence of Lady Wetherby, and Marcia, who was 
 conscious of having allowed her tongue far too 
 much liberty, could not but feel grateful to him 
 for his moderation. Also it must be confessed 
 that his companionship and his sympathy, which 
 was insinuated rather than spoken, were delightful 
 to her. 
 
 Delightful, too, were the stillness and fragrance 
 of the summer night and the moonlit vistas of the 
 woods, which they had now entered. It was not 
 surprising that amid such surroundings and in 
 the interchange of half-confidences, they should
 
 170 MABCIA. 
 
 have lost count of time ; still less surprising, per- 
 haps, was it that they should have lost an even 
 more important thing, namely, all accurate know- 
 ledge of their whereabouts. When at last Marcia 
 consulted her watch, she gave a cry of dismay. 
 
 ''Good gracious!" she exclaimed. ''Do you 
 know that we have been out more than an hour ? 
 We must go back at once." 
 
 And very shortly after this it was that the 
 difficulty of finding their way back became mani- 
 fest to both of them. To the unaccustomed eye 
 one shooting-drive is exactly like another ; they 
 had already sauntered along three or four of 
 these, and if they now turned to the right instead 
 of to the left they only obeyed the instinct which 
 sways most people who have omitted to provide 
 themselves with a compass. 
 
 "I'm awfully sorry," said Archdale, at length, 
 "but it's useless to disguise the truth, and the 
 truth is that I haven't the faintest idea where I 
 am — have you ? " 
 
 " I know that I am in a dense forest whicli 
 appears to have no limits," answered Marcia, with 
 a vexed laugh. " The only thing to be done is to 
 follow our noses. Wetherby may be in front of us 
 or behind us ; but if we walk straight on I suppose 
 we shall reach the open country before we die."
 
 AT WETEERBT. 171 
 
 Archdale could suggest no better course, and, 
 indeed, the result of adojDting it ^as moderately 
 successful, since, after twenty minutes or so, they 
 did emerge upon a hillside whence the chimneys 
 of Wetherby could be descried ; but it took them 
 the best part of another half-hour to reach the 
 house, where they met with the reception which 
 their behaviour seemed to have merited. The 
 men had adjourned to the smoking-room, and 
 some of the ladies had gone to bed : but a few 
 still remained with Lady Wetherby, and these 
 evidently approved of the annoyed tone in which 
 she addressed the wanderers. 
 
 "We thought you must be lost," she said. "I 
 was just going to send out men with lanterns to 
 search for you. "Where have you been ? " 
 
 "We were lost, but we are found again," 
 answered Archdale, who was not easily discon- 
 certed. "You ought to have sign-posts put up 
 in those woods of yours. Lady Wetherby ; the 
 Hampton Court maze is nothing to them." 
 
 Marcia did not attempt to excuse herself. She 
 knew very well that a jury of her own sex would 
 never acquit her, and that it would be a mere 
 waste of breath to back up her companion's state- 
 ment; therefore, she only said that she had had 
 a long tramp and was tired out ; immediately after
 
 172 MARCIA. 
 
 which she took up a bedroom candlestick, wished 
 everybody good night, and retired. 
 
 Archdale was preparing to imitate her, when 
 Lady Wetherby laid a detaining hand upon his 
 coat-sleeve. He could not disobey that intima- 
 tion, so he remained resignedly where he was 
 until he and his hostess were left in sole posses- 
 sion of the drawing-room, when he remarked, 
 " Now I am going to catch it, I suppose. All the 
 same, we did lose our way." 
 
 "Very likely you did," returned Lady Wetherby 
 curtly. " I have nothing to say about that except 
 that you had no business to lose your way ; but 
 one thing I am quite determined about, and that 
 is that I will not allow you the chance of making 
 such a blunder again. I am sorry to appear in- 
 hospitable, Mr. Archdale, but I must ask you to 
 go away to-morrow and not to come back until 
 Marcia has left us. You know as well as I do 
 what these people must have thought." 
 
 "I give you my word," answered Archdale, 
 " that 1 am as innocent as a new-born babe. We 
 should have been back ever so long ago if we 
 hadn't unfortunately taken the wrong turning." 
 
 " Oh, of course ; and in your innocence you will 
 take the wrong turning again on the earliest 
 opportunity. Now, Mr. Archdale, I am going to
 
 AT WETREBBT. 173 
 
 be perfectly candid with you. I don't know 
 whether you are a gentleman in the sense that 
 I understand that term or not ; hut, from the little 
 that I have seen of you, I should think that you 
 had principles of a kind and a vast stock of selfish- 
 ness. Well, if you go on as you are doing, the 
 chances are that you will cause a permanent 
 rupture between Marcia and her husband. You 
 wouldn't like that, I presume." 
 
 '' Really," answered Archdale, who, naturally 
 enough, did not relish being told in such plain 
 language that he was no gentleman, ''if I pos- 
 sessed the power that you give me credit for, 
 which I don't at all admit, I should not feel that 
 I was guilty of any great crime by exercising it. 
 Her husband is evidently a brute." 
 
 '' No, he is only an ordinary, honest man, who 
 is clever in some ways and stupid in others ; but 
 that is neither here nor there. What I am sure 
 you wouldn't like would be the responsibility of 
 having upon your hands a woman who was sepa- 
 rated from her husband through you. I don't 
 pretend to be quick at reading character; but I 
 think I can read yours well enough to understand 
 that much. You had better leave her alone, Mr. 
 Archdale. Anyhow, you can't refuse to be tele- 
 graphed for to-morrow morning."
 
 174 MARCIA. 
 
 ''Of course I can't," agreed Arcbdale, smiling. 
 '' I will be telegraphed for, then, and I will leave 
 by the first train. Nevertheless, you will perhaps 
 excuse my saying that your remarks are almost 
 as unflattering to Mrs. Brett as they are to myself." 
 
 Unflattering they might be ; but he felt that, at 
 least in so far as they bore reference to himself, 
 they were true. He had no liking for tragedy nor 
 even for that kind of serio-comedy in which the 
 serious element predominates. He adored Mrs. 
 Brett ; but he knew^ that he could live without her, 
 whereas, under existing circumstances, he certainly 
 could not live with her. Therefore it would, 
 without doubt, be right and wise to absent himself 
 from her until such time as his emotions, and 
 possibly also hers, should have become more 
 amenable to restraint. In all honesty and sin- 
 cerity he desired to do nothing wrong and to harm 
 nobody — least of all himself. He perceived that 
 sooner or later he would have to execute a strategic 
 movement of retreat, and painful though it was to 
 him to be driven away from one to whom (for the 
 time being) his whole heart belonged, there was 
 consolation in the thought that he was being 
 driven away, that he was not retiring of his own 
 free will. He slept quite soundly that night, and 
 on the following morning before breakfast he was
 
 AT WETHER BY. 175 
 
 summoned up to London. However, he thought 
 himself bound in common civility to leave a note 
 for Mrs. Brett, in "which he expressed deep regret 
 at being compelled to go away without wishing her 
 good-bye, and added that he looked forward to 
 meeting her once more in the autumn, if, as she 
 had given him to understand, he must not venture 
 to invade her summer quarters.
 
 176 MABCIA. 
 
 CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 Willie's first holidays. 
 
 Mr. Brett had been not a little vexed to hear that 
 Archdale had followed his wife to Wetherby. His 
 sister-in-law, Caroline, who had obtained this in- 
 formation from some source or other, had hastened 
 to impart it to him, and had not failed, while 
 doing so, to point out that such an encounter 
 could hardly be the result of mere chance. He 
 himself had difficulty in believing it to be wholly 
 unpremeditated ; so that, although he preferred 
 blaming Archdale to blaming Lady Wetherby or 
 Marcia, he felt that it was his duty to remove the 
 latter as soon as might be from an equivocal 
 position. He managed to arrange an earlier date 
 than had been fixed upon for the commencement 
 of his holiday ; he composed the letter of which 
 a portion has been quoted to his wife, and he 
 journeyed down to Lynton in the confident ex- 
 pectation that she would join him there at once. 
 He did not often issue instructions or even express
 
 WILLIE'S FIRST HOLIDAYS. 177 
 
 wishes, but when he did so they were usually 
 complied with ; therefore her reply, which reached 
 him two days after his arrival in the far-west 
 locality where he had decided to spend the summer, 
 gave him both surprise and annoyance. 
 
 '' I am sorry," Marcia wrote, '' that you don't 
 like Mr. Archdale ; but I can't say that I wonder 
 at it, because you never do like the people whom 
 I like. Luckily, however, he left this morning, 
 and I shall not now have to make myself ridiculous 
 by cutting short my visit here. I should be curious 
 to know who has ' commented upon ' the coinci- 
 dence that you speak of if I couldn't form a toler- 
 able good guess. Pray assure Caroline, with my 
 love, that she is not likely to have the satisfaction 
 of hearing that I have eloped with anybody. You 
 may expect me when Willie's holidays begin ; I 
 shall probably pick him up at Farnborough, and 
 bring him with me." 
 
 Mr. Brett was at least as averse to making him- 
 self ridiculous as Marcia could be, and he was not 
 at all sure that he had escaped committing that 
 act of gratuitous folly. In any case, he did not 
 see his way to despatch a second summons, and 
 he wished with all his heart that he had not been 
 in such a hurry to move down to Devonshire. It 
 was desperately dull in that beautiful, but remote 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 MABCIA. 
 
 spot ; deprived of his work and his club, he did 
 not know how to get through the long hours, nor 
 could he keep himself from brooding over the 
 disappointments of life, by admiring the changing 
 colours of cliff and moorland or gazing across the 
 Bristol Channel at the faint blue outline of the 
 Welsh coast. To be sure, things would not have 
 been much better if he had had Marcia with him ; 
 but that was scarcely a consolatory reflection. 
 
 Marcia, meanwhile, found it a very consolatory 
 reflection that her husband had hastened away 
 from London to no purpose. She stood in some 
 need of consolation, because Archdale's precipitate 
 exit had provoked her very much, and she was 
 not so simple as to believe in the telegram which 
 he had put forward as an excuse. 
 
 ''I suppose this means that you have turned 
 him out of the house, Laura," she took the first 
 opportunity of saying to her friend. 
 
 *' I didn't exactly turn him out," Lady Wetherby 
 replied composedly, " but I don't deny that I re- 
 quested him to go. It was entirely your own fault, 
 Marcia, and I am not a bit ashamed of myself; 
 so you needn't scowl at me. What possessed you 
 to lose yourself with him in the woods ? " 
 
 *' As if one did that kind of thing on purpose ! 
 I ruined my frock, and a new pair of shoes, and
 
 WILLIE'S FIRST HOLIDAYS. 179 
 
 now — thanks to you — everybody believes that I 
 made that sacrifice for the sake of the man whom 
 you have chased off the premises ! " 
 
 " Do you suppose that they would have believed 
 anything else if he had remained here ? Nothing 
 that you or I could have done would have made 
 them believe that you really lost your way ; but I 
 thought to myself, that at least I could take 
 measures to prevent the repetition of such a dis- 
 aster, and I took them accordingly. Episodes of 
 that kind are disasters, you know, Marcia." 
 
 Marcia declared that she did not see that at all, 
 and added that only those amiable persons who 
 were always hoping that some disaster might 
 happen to their neighbours would take such a 
 view of an everyday occurrence. She was much 
 incensed against her friend, who ought, she 
 thought, to have stood by her more loyally, nor 
 was she best pleased with Archdale for submitting 
 with meekness to a sentence of banishment. 
 However, she forgave him when she took into 
 account the absolute impossibihty of staying in 
 a house of which the mistress has requested you 
 to quit it ; she was, besides, all the more ready 
 to forgive him because she felt sure that he must 
 have gone away very reluctantly. In the course 
 of a day or two she felt able to forgive Laura
 
 180 MAR CIA. 
 
 also, seeing that there was, after all, some justi- 
 fication for the scruples of a lady who was nothing 
 if not conventional : she did not, however, forgive 
 Eustace, for whose insulting innuendoes she could 
 find no justification at all. 
 
 Poor Mr. Brett did not deal in innuendoes, and 
 certainly had not meant to he insulting. He only 
 wrote once from Lynton to his wife, and that was 
 merely to say that he would expect her upon the 
 date which she had named. So luckless was he, 
 that Marcia, instead of giving him credit for 
 unselfishness, took this to be but one more proof 
 of his utter indifference. " All he cares for is to 
 avoid scandal," she thought. ** Now that he 
 knows Mr. Archdale is out of the way, he wouldn't 
 mind if I remained out of the way too until 
 Doomsday." 
 
 Nevertheless, the day upon which she set out 
 from Wetherby to join him was a joyful day for 
 her ; for, although there might be no love lost 
 between her and her husband, there was love 
 enough for twenty between her and her son, whom 
 she was going to meet. At least, she hoped that 
 there was. In her case, at all events, separation 
 had brought about no lessening of affection ; but 
 of course she could not feel quite so sure of Willie 
 as she did of herself. A boy when he goes to
 
 WILLIE'S FIRST HOLIDAYS. 181 
 
 school, like a girl when she is introduced to 
 society, turns over a fresh leaf in the book of life ; 
 he learns a great deal of which he has hitherto 
 been ignorant or has but dimly suspected ; he sees 
 the world and humanity with other and clearer, 
 perhaps also with sadder eyes ; all of a sudden he 
 becomes a rudimentary man, and in putting away 
 childish things he sometimes puts away childish 
 love and faith with the rest. And to Marcia, who 
 could not know this by experience, but divined it 
 by the aid of that maternal instinct which never 
 errs, was nervous and flustered when the train 
 drew up at Farnborough Station. 
 
 But there was Willie waiting for her, with his 
 portmanteau and hat-box, and as soon as he 
 caught sight of her his round face became illu- 
 mined with smiles, and a minute later she was 
 kissing him and crying over him — though there 
 was nothing to cry about — and she knew before 
 he opened his lips that he was her own dear boy 
 still, and that this first contact with a world which 
 is full of ugly and disheartening experiences had 
 not changed or spoilt him. 
 
 Of course she had taken very good care to bribe 
 the guard and keep the carriage to herself. Pre- 
 sently she made Willie stand away from her, and 
 surveyed him critically from head to foot.
 
 182 MARCIA. 
 
 '* You have grown quite an inch," she said, 
 '' and you are improved — oh yes ! you are im- 
 proved. You look stronger, and your shoulders 
 are broader ; I think you will be a tall man. Ah ! 
 well, I suppose I shall always wish you were back 
 in petticoats again ; still it's something to have 
 a son big enough to take care of his poor old 
 mother. Now tell me all about yourself and what 
 you have been doing; for I have heard nothing 
 yet. You don't write at all nice letters, do you 
 know ? " 
 
 The boy laughed, flung himself down beside his 
 mother, and, putting his arm round her waist, 
 laid his head upon her shoulder just as he had 
 been wont to do in former times. 
 
 " One can't say things in letters," he answered ; 
 *' what do you want to know ? " 
 
 She wanted to know everything. Who were his 
 friends ? had the boys bullied him at first ? had 
 he fought any of them ? was he getting on well 
 at cricket ? And then, as an afterthought, she 
 inquired whether he was taking home a good 
 report from the head-master. '' Because your 
 father is sure to ask about that at once, and make 
 a fuss if it isn't perfectly satisfactory." 
 
 Fortunately, Willie was able to reply that his 
 father would have no cause to complain of the
 
 TVILLirS FIRST HOLIDAYS. 183 
 
 report that he had in his pocket ; and this was 
 the sole allusion made to Mr. Brett in the course 
 of a long and happy afternoon. In answer to the 
 other questions put to him, Willie had a great 
 deal to say ; and all that he said was delightful 
 to listen to, not only because he incidentally 
 revealed his capacity to take care of himself and 
 hold his own amongst his companions, but because 
 it was so evident that his mother still held the 
 first place in his heart. It gave her a passing 
 spasm of pain at her own to remember that she 
 had sometimes forgotten him when she had been 
 enjoying herself ; indeed, that she had tried to 
 enjoy herself in order to forget him : whereas he 
 had always been thinking of her, and had treasured 
 up the incidents of his best days to relate to her. 
 But now she was reassured ; she would never try 
 to put her boy out of her mind again ; his love 
 was sufficient for her, and so long as he cared for 
 her it was little enough that she would trouble her 
 head about Mr. Archdale or anybody else whose 
 friendship might have seemed worth having as a 
 jpis-aller. 
 
 And, being thus light-hearted and content, she 
 was less cold than she had intended to be when, 
 after the long drive from Barnstaple to Lynton, 
 they reached their temporary home and discerned
 
 184 MAR CIA. 
 
 the tall spare figure of Mr. Brett, who had walked 
 out to the gate to meet them. 
 
 *' Here we are, Eustace," she said, jumping out 
 of the carriage, " and we are dying of hunger ; 
 so I do hope you have ordered an enormous dinner 
 for us. What a pretty place ! " 
 
 '* I am glad you think so," Mr. Brett replied, 
 with his grave smile. 
 
 It was unquestionably a very pretty place, and 
 if Marcia admired it in the twilight she admired 
 it still more the next morning, when a fresh breeze 
 was blowing in from the Atlantic, and when she 
 looked from her bedroom window upon the sunlit 
 expanse of sea and the towering headlands of the 
 coast line. The house which Mr. Brett had taken 
 stood upon the very verge of the cliff outside 
 Lynton, and was surrounded by a small garden, 
 where only a few flowering shrubs had managed 
 to survive the fury of the prevailing gales. Far 
 beneath lay Lynmouth, a confused mass of dwell- 
 ings, collected round the mouth of the little river 
 whence the town takes its name, and by stretching 
 out of the window, and turning her gaze inland, 
 Marcia could catch a glimpse of the woods through 
 which the Lyn hurries down towards the sea. 
 Her first thought was that she and Willie would 
 have some happy days and walks together, boat-
 
 WILLIE'S FIRST HOLIDAYS. 185 
 
 ing and fishing ; and her second — which made her 
 smile — was that Eustace would very soon have 
 had enough of Lynton. Eustace did not care for 
 sailing, was not an angler, and had no taste for 
 country walks. It seemed reasonable to expect 
 that he would ere long find himself irresistibly 
 attracted towards the city which he could not ask 
 his wife to inhabit during the summer and autumn. 
 She had forgotten that Mr. Brett knew how to 
 ride. Her forgetfulness was excusable, because 
 this was an accomplishment which he rarely dis- 
 played, and in which he could scarcely be said 
 to excel. He had, however, bethought him that 
 Willie would like to have his pony, and he had 
 had one of the carriage horses sent down for his 
 own use ; and so it came to pass that on the 
 very first day the father and son went out together 
 for a gallop over the moor, and Marcia was left 
 out in the cold. This was a disappointment ; but 
 she bore it uncomplainingly. She wanted the boy 
 to enjoy his holidays, and she wanted him to 
 acquire some knowledge of horsemanship. After 
 all, if he had not gone out with his father, he 
 would have gone out with the groom, and she 
 would have been equally deprived of his company 
 in either case. What she had not reckoned upon 
 (for how was she to know that hunting ever took
 
 186 MARCIA. 
 
 place in summer ?) was that the Devon and 
 Somerset hounds would advertise two meets in the 
 neighbourhood in the course of the ensuing week, 
 and that Willie would be wild with excitement at 
 the thought of a run with them. On the first 
 occasion he and Mr. Brett were absent from early 
 morning until dinner-time, when they returned 
 weary but triumphant, having seen plenty of sport 
 and passed through some thrilling experiences 
 which the boy recounted breathlessly. Marcia 
 listened, and tried to be interested, and was in 
 some degree interested. She had had a dull time 
 of it; but she would not, perhaps, have resented 
 that if the jealousy which was a part of her nature 
 had not been aroused by certain evidences of a 
 good-fellowship between the father and the son 
 which had never appeared before. 
 
 She astonished Willie that night by entering his 
 bedroom, just after he had laid his tired head upon 
 the pillow, and saying abruptly, '* This is what 
 I have always dreaded ; you care more for hunting 
 than you do for me, and very soon you will care 
 more for your father (who cares for nobody) than 
 you do for me. Oh, what a miserable thing it is 
 to be a woman ! " 
 
 The boy opened his sleepy eyes wide and the 
 corners of his mouth dropped.
 
 WILLIE S FIBST HOLIDAYS. 187 
 
 ''What is it, Mummy?" he asked in dismay; 
 *' what have I done ?" 
 
 " Oh, nothing," answered Marcia, half laughing, 
 half crying, and a little ashamed of herself; "it 
 is natural, I suppose, and you can't help yourself. 
 Only, you see, I have had a miserable day all alone 
 here, and I had been hoping that you would take 
 me out for a sail, and — and — oh, well it doesn't 
 matter ; but Willie, if you ever love him better 
 than me, you will break my heart ! " 
 
 There was no danger of her heart being broken 
 from that cause. She received assurances the 
 sincerity of which she could not doubt, and on 
 the following day it was to Mr. Brett that the part 
 of odd man out was assigned ; for Willie and his 
 mother, having obtained the requisite permission, 
 went off up the river with a fishing-rod and a 
 luncheon-basket, and only reappeared at nightfall. 
 Doubtless there was some lack of generosity in the 
 satisfaction which Marcia felt on noticing that her 
 husband was in one of his most querulous moods ; 
 but it is only human to desu-e that others should 
 experience what they have inflicted on ourselves, 
 and have an opportunity of judging how they like 
 it : besides, she meant to be very generous on the 
 morrow, which was the day appointed for the 
 second meet of the stag-hounds. She had made
 
 188 MAR CIA. 
 
 up her mind that she would not grumble at being 
 left, that she would fill up the day by clearing 
 up arrears of correspondence, that she would 
 perhaps go out for a walk in the afternoon and 
 would rejoice unselfishly in the thought that WilHe 
 was having a fine time of it. 
 
 But when, quite at variance with her custom, 
 she came downstairs early to give the sportsmen 
 their breakfast, lo and behold Willie had not 
 donned the cords and boots of which he was so 
 proud ! and presently he announced quietly, in 
 answer to some remark of Mr. Brett's, that he was 
 not going to hunt that day ; he was going to take 
 his mother for a sail instead. 
 
 Mr. Brett frowned and assumed the aspect which 
 was familiar to unfortunate persons who knew that 
 it meant ** forty shillings or a month." 
 
 "You must not get into the way of being 
 capricious, Willie," said he; "that is a privilege 
 which is supposed to be reserved for ladies. The 
 horses have been ordered and we shall have to 
 start in ten minutes." 
 
 The boy looked down without replying, and after 
 a pause Marcia — though she knew she ought to 
 hold her tongue — could not help pleading, "But 
 if he doesn't want to go, Eustace ! " 
 
 Mr. Brett smiled somewhat disagreeably and
 
 WILLIE'S FIRST EOLIDAYS. 189 
 
 said, ''Is it not rather you who do not want him 
 to go ? However, I will leave the choice to him 
 this time. You can hunt or sail to-day as you 
 please, Willie ; only you must clearly understand 
 that if you decide upon sailing I shall not take 
 you out with the hounds again. Boys must learn 
 to know theu' own minds." 
 
 He was neither a cruel nor a stupid man ; but 
 there was some defect in his perceptions which 
 sometimes caused him to do cruel and stupid 
 things. He really believed that he was right to 
 place the boy in that dilemma ; he did not under- 
 stand that no human being with a particle of spirit 
 could yield to such a threat. 
 
 Willie raised his eyes, which expressed some 
 regret, a little compunction and a touch of per- 
 plexity, but answered without hesitating, "I'd 
 rather go out sailing, please." 
 
 " Very well," returned his father briefly, and at 
 once left the room. 
 
 Marcia caught the boy's hand and pressed it 
 to her lips. " Oh, how good you are to me ! " she 
 exclaimed. Her face was beaming with joy and 
 triumph ; probably that moment was one of the 
 happiest that she had ever known. 
 
 WiUie laughed and looked pleased ; yet it was 
 evident that his mind was not quite easy nor his
 
 190 MARCIA. 
 
 pleasure wholly unalloyed. *'I say," he asked, 
 after Marcia had been expatiating for some minutes 
 upon the fun that was in store for them, " do you 
 think he was awfully sold ? " 
 
 "Who?— Your father? I hope he was, for I 
 am sure he deserved to be. I never heard of any- 
 thing so shabby as his saying that he wouldn't 
 take you out hunting again. But he will when 
 the time comes ; we needn't bother about that 
 now. And don't you flatter yourself that he will 
 miss you ; it is only I who am wretched when you 
 are out of sight." 
 
 ''Well, I don't know," said Willie musingly; 
 " he was quite — quite jolly, you know, the other 
 day while the hounds were running." 
 
 Marcia burst out laughing. " Eustace jolly ! 
 Well, let us hope that he will be jolly again to-day 
 when he joins them; for I suppose he intends 
 to go." 
 
 Mr. Brett, however, had no such intention, and 
 Willie guessed that, though his mother did not. 
 Nor, in all probability, did she guess that the poor 
 little fellow had made what for him was a very 
 great sacrifice in order to please her. It was her 
 nature to accept sacrifices, sometimes even to 
 demand them, and in this little scene, which had 
 brought the character of the three persons con-
 
 WILLIES FIRST EOLIDATS. 191 
 
 cerned so singularly into prominence, she bad 
 comprehended only one point — but tbat, to be 
 sure, was a most important one — tbat Willie loved 
 ber best.
 
 192 MABCIA. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE APPROACH OF THE INEVITABLE. 
 
 Amongst the various accomplishments which Willie 
 Brett had acquired — for he was a steady and pains- 
 taking lad — that of sailing a boat was not one. 
 However, anybody can run before the wind, and 
 the light north-westerly breeze which took him 
 and his mother out of Lynmouth harbour served 
 them very well for a couple of hours, by the end 
 of which time they had progressed for a consider- 
 able distance down the coast. Marcia was as 
 happy as a child, and when she was happy her 
 conversation was apt to be as spontaneous and 
 unthinking as that of children generally is and 
 always ought to be. She was a good deal more 
 childish than her son, who listened to what she 
 had to say with curiosity and with some sadness. 
 In certain ways he was wise beyond his years, in 
 others he was not : so that, although he was quite 
 aware that his father and mother did not get on 
 well together, he failed to draw the deductions
 
 TEE APPROACE OF TEE INEVITABLE. 193 
 
 which more experienced persons might have drawn 
 from the circumstance that the latter did not dis- 
 guise the melancholy fact, whereas the former never 
 alluded to it. 
 
 ''When YOU are grown up," Marcia was saying, 
 " we will travel about together and amuse ourselves. 
 I want to see Russia and Greece and Egypt and 
 heaps of places ; but it would be no fun to go there 
 with your father, who would be bored to death the 
 whole time. I often wonder what made me marry 
 your father ! " 
 
 " Would you rather have married somebody 
 else ? " asked Willie, after a moment or two of 
 grave reflection. 
 
 Marcia laughed. " Oh, I don't know. No ; 
 nobody in particular. But girls are such idiots — 
 worse even than men, which is saying something. 
 I suppose I thought it was rather a feather in my 
 cap to have captured an admirer whom nobody 
 else could capture ; I didn't ask myself whether he 
 was worth capturing. How horrified your Aunt 
 Caroline would be if she could hear me talking to 
 you in this way ! " she added presently. " I dare 
 say it is very wrong of me ; only I can't help it. I 
 am not going to be a humbug with you, whatever 
 I may be with the rest of the world." 
 
 No wonder the boy loved her all the more for her 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 191 MAR CIA. 
 
 frankness, and no wonder he came to the conclusion 
 that his father was wholly and solely to blame for 
 an estrangement which seemed to him to be de- 
 plorable. It was an impression which never be- 
 came quite obliterated, and, although in after years 
 his reason sometimes convicted him of injustice, 
 his heart always remained on the side of the affec- 
 tionate, impulsive, selfish woman for whom his 
 sentiments were fraternal rather than filial. Even 
 now he thought it right to pave the way for a 
 possible disappointment by reminding her that 
 w4ien he was grown up his time would not be his 
 own. He was going to be a soldier, he informed 
 her, and the movements of soldiers were, of course, 
 a good deal hampered by the claims of their Queen 
 and their country. '' But when I get leave we'll 
 go off on the spree, somewhere," he added en- 
 couragingly. 
 
 *^ I wish you were not going to be in any profes- 
 sion ! " sighed the foolish Marcia. *' It is having 
 a profession that makes men so hard-hearted. 
 They know that, whatever happens, they have that 
 to fall back upon, whereas we have nothing. How- 
 ever, we needn't bother ourselves about the future 
 yet ; it is still a long way off, thank Heaven ! " 
 
 And, indeed, the present soon became sufficiently 
 interesting to engage all their attention ; for the
 
 THE APPRO ACE OF THE INEVITABLE. 195 
 
 wind, after dropping, veered a point or two to the 
 east of north and freshened considerably ; insomuch 
 that the stolid, somnolent boatman who had accom- 
 panied them expressed doubts about their getting 
 back into harbour by sunset. They had sailed and 
 drifted a long way down channel by this time, and 
 Willie's nautical capacities were hardly equal to 
 making the most that could be made out of a dead 
 foul breeze. Moreover, a lumpy sea was getting 
 up which neither he nor his mother altogether 
 relished. 
 
 They both behaved as well as peoj^le who are 
 going to be sea-sick can be expected to behave. 
 They did not say much ; from time to time they 
 exchanged glances which were at first interrogative, 
 then despairing ; finally the proprietor of the craft 
 took the tiller, and they sank into that state of 
 total indifference and degradation at which few of 
 us are entitled to sneer. For how long they under- 
 went the misery of beating towards their destination 
 and receiving occasional drenching showers of 
 spray they neither knew nor cared. Naturally it 
 seemed like a lifetime, and not less naturally they 
 remained entirely oblivious of Mr. Brett and the 
 anxiety from which he might be supposed to be 
 suffering by reason of their protracted absence. 
 But when at length they reached Lynmouth in the
 
 196 MABCIA. 
 
 twilight there was Mr. Brett, waiting for them on 
 the landing-steps, and, notwithstanding their for- 
 lorn and draggled appearance, it was little enough 
 sympathy that he had at their service. 
 
 ''Dinner was ready more than an hour ago," 
 was his greeting, spoken in a very harsh tone of 
 voice. " Keally, Marcia, this kind of thing must 
 not occur again. I thought you must have been 
 drowned." 
 
 " We have been much worse than drowned," re- 
 turned Marcia dolefully ; " we have died a hundred 
 deaths ! As for its occurring again, you may make 
 your mind easy about that ; I have had enough of 
 boating to last me to my dying day. Now, if you 
 want to scold, Eustace, you can scold ; but you may 
 just as well spare yourself the trouble, for we are 
 absolutely callous. We don't want any dinner; 
 we don't care whether you are hungry or not ; we 
 don't care a penny about anybody or anything in 
 the wide world." 
 
 Mr. Brett was very cross, and would have liked 
 to relieve his feelings by scolding the delinquents a 
 little ; but, under the circumstances, he could only 
 hold his peace, and they all walked up the hill to 
 Lynton in solemn silence. As, however, his wife, 
 in spite of what she had said, proved able to eat a 
 tolerably good dinner, he thought that, after W^illie
 
 THE APPROACH OF THE INEVITABLE. 197 
 
 had gone to bed, he might without brutahty give 
 utterance to certain reflections over which he had 
 been brooding throughout the day. 
 
 " I confess that your conduct to-day seems to me 
 to have been a little inconsiderate, Marcia," he 
 began ; ** but I won't dwell on that ; you would, of 
 course, only point out to me that you have no con- 
 trol over the elements. Still I should like to ask 
 you just this : What object can you possibly have 
 in thwarting me when I try as well as I can to gain 
 some share of our boy's affections ? I know well 
 enough — and so do you — that the utmost I can 
 hope to obtain is a very small share of them. Why 
 should you grudge me that ? Seriously, do you 
 think that our life, which is already so pleasant, 
 will be made pleasanter when you have broken the 
 one link which still binds you and me together ? " 
 
 "Oh, you consider, then, that Willie is the only 
 link which still binds us together? It is candid 
 of you to say so, at all events, and, after such 
 a polite speech as that, I wouldn't for the world 
 try to snap it. At the same time, I don't see why 
 I should be accused of such sinister designs because 
 I took Willie out in a boat with me for once. 
 Didn't you take him out hunting the other day? " 
 
 "Yes; and for that reason you prevented my 
 taking him again. We will not exchange recrimi-
 
 198 MARCIA. 
 
 nations, nor, 1 think, would there be much use in 
 affecting to ignore the obvious truth — which is, 
 that we have next to nothing in common. This 
 may be my fault, or it may be yours, or there may 
 be faults on both sides; we need not discuss a 
 question to which no satisfactory answer is likely 
 to be found. But you might answer the question 
 which I have just put to you ? Is it worth your 
 while to poison the boy's mind against me for the 
 sake of making my life a little more wretched than 
 it is ? " 
 
 If there was anything pathetic in this appeal, 
 Marcia failed to detect the pathos ; she was only 
 irritated and angered by reproaches which seemed 
 to her quite undeserved. " You don't really believe 
 that I have poisoned Willie's mind against you, 
 Eustace," she returned, " and you don't really care 
 whether he is fond of you or not. I can't help 
 your life being wretched; it is you yourself who 
 have chosen to make it so, and I suppose what you 
 mean is that you would like to make mine wretched 
 too. Well, it isn't particularly happy, I must 
 admit. Every word that you have been saying to 
 me I might have said to you, and with a good deal 
 more justice. I have never attempted to thwart 
 you in any way ; but of late you have done all in 
 your power to thwart me, and I can't imagine any
 
 TEE APPROACH OF THE INEVITABLE. 199 
 
 other cause for this sudden anxiety of yours to 
 make friends with Willie." 
 
 Mr. Brett made a gesture of impatience and 
 weariness. "Well, well," said he ; "we will drop 
 the subject. I wish you were less perverse, 
 Marcia ; but I will make no more efforts to overcome 
 your perversity. I shall, however, make some 
 efforts to be more successful as a father than I 
 have been as a husband." 
 
 The poor man's chance of success in either 
 character was but small. Heaven having denied 
 him the gift of sympathy ; but after this he took 
 great pains to give Willie pleasure. He felt bound 
 to keep his word and eschew hunting ; but the boy 
 and he had some long rides together, which both 
 of them enjoyed, and in the course of which they 
 became a shade more intimate than they had 
 previously been. He was quite right in believing 
 that Marcia grudged him even this modest victory; 
 her restless jealousy was for ever upon the alert ; 
 there was a perpetual rivalry and antagonism 
 between her and her husband ; nor did she breathe 
 freely until the latter, after a holiday which had 
 lasted barely a month, returned to London, leaving 
 her in sole charge of the subject of their contention. 
 
 A brief period of happiness followed; but this 
 was clouded towards its close by the shadow of the
 
 200 MABCIA, 
 
 imminent parting. *' I shall miss you a tliousand 
 times more than you will miss me, Willie," sighed 
 Marcia, when the day appointed for the re- 
 assembling of the Farnborough school came ; and 
 she was glad to see how serious and sorrowful he 
 looked as he replied — 
 
 " Oh no, you won't. You are going to stay with 
 your friends and have lots of fun ; I haven't any- 
 thing to look forward to, except football and the 
 Christmas holidays." 
 
 Well, it was doubtful whether much fun was in 
 store for her : but, as was always the case at that 
 time of year, she had received invitations from 
 many country houses, and of course she could 
 neither join Mr. Brett in London nor remain at 
 Lynton all by herself. Her first move was into 
 Wiltshire, where she formed one of a large party 
 and encountered numerous London acquaintances 
 who were delighted to see her. From thence she 
 went on to Dorsetshire, Hampshire, and Kent, 
 meeting everywhere with a warm welcome ; for she 
 was popular, by reason not only of her beauty but 
 of her admirable social qualities, and, since popu- 
 larity was as the breath of her nostrils to her, she 
 could not feel very low-spirited, notwithstanding 
 the good reasons w4iich she conceived that she had 
 for being so. One of these undoubtedly was that
 
 TEE APPROACH OF THE INEVITABLE. 201 
 
 in the course of her peregrinations she heard 
 nothing at all about Archdaie. She had more than 
 half expected that he would take the trouble to 
 find out what her movements were likely to be, 
 and would have made his own coincide with them, 
 and she felt it as something of a slight that he had 
 neglected to do this. Had he put in an appearance 
 at any of the houses where she was visiting, she 
 would in all probability have given him to under- 
 stand that she was annoyed with him for pursuing 
 her; but, as he did not, she thought a good deal 
 more about him than she would otherwise have 
 done, and allowed herself some bitter mental 
 strictures upon the instability of men's friendship. 
 Moreover, she experienced a great longing to tell 
 some sympathizing person how very unkind Eustace 
 had been to her throughout the summer. She had 
 an uneasy desire to hear Eustace condemned and 
 her own opinion of him confirmed ; for the truth 
 was that her opinion of him — or at least what she 
 imagined to be her opinion — had changed very 
 much for the worse of late. If she had never loved 
 him, she had not hitherto disliked him ; but now 
 she occasionally felt something very like hatred for 
 the cold, dispassionate man who had weighed her 
 in the balance and found her wanting, and who, 
 as she was persuaded, would be only too thankful
 
 202 MAR CIA. 
 
 to get rid of her, if such a proceeding could be 
 made to accord with his pharisaical notions of 
 morality. She herself, being by no means phari- 
 saical, often wished that an amicable separation 
 could be arranged. By his own confession, Willie 
 was their sole remaining bond of union, and, 
 although he had deprecated the severing of that 
 bond, she was very sure that his wish to maintain 
 it arose from no sentiment of natural affection. 
 There were moments when she felt as if it would 
 be almost impossible for her to continue living with 
 Eustace. Yet he had not altered ; his virtues and 
 his failings were just what they had been from the 
 first. 
 
 She put off her return home from week to week ; 
 but at last she could postpone it no longer, and 
 early in November she arrived in Cornwall Terrace 
 to find her husband looking a little older, a little 
 more tired, and a little more cross than he had 
 done in the summer. 
 
 " Now that you have arrived, Marcia," was his 
 greeting, " I trust that I shall sometimes be pro- 
 vided with a dinner which I can eat. As you 
 know, I am easily satisfied; but the food which 
 has been set before me lately has been simply unfit 
 for human consumption, and no attention whatso- 
 ever has been vouchsafed to my remonstrances."
 
 TEE APPRO ACE OF TEE IXEYITABLE. 203 
 
 Marcia shrugged her shoulders. "Why didn't 
 you dismiss the cook, then? " she asked. That a 
 good wife is before all things, and above all things 
 a good housekeeper, 'was a view ^vhich he had 
 frequently expressed, and with which she had never 
 agreed ; but she had not at any previous time gone 
 60 far as to stigmatize it inwardly as a barbarous 
 and revolting view. At that season of the ^^ear she 
 had comparatively few friends in London, and 
 dined at home on most nights in the week, so that 
 she could judge for herself of the cook's per- 
 formances as well as listen to her husband's com- 
 ments upon them. Very terrible those tete-a-tete 
 dinners were to her. Mr. Brett, who was engaged 
 in writing a pamphlet upon some abstruse point of 
 law which seemed to occup}' all his thoughts, seldom 
 spoke, and did not always remember to answer 
 when he was spoken to. The only comfort was, 
 that as soon as dinner was over he betook himself 
 to his study and was no more seen. It was better 
 that he should do that than that he should sit 
 gloomily in the drawing-room without opening his 
 lips ; still, it was not very amusing to be left 
 entirely alone, and Marcia naturally wished that 
 she could think of somebody sulfficiently interesting 
 to be asked to come and relieve her solitude 
 occasionally.
 
 204 MARCIA. 
 
 One afternoon, she was wandering through a 
 picture-gallery in Bond Street, when she caught 
 sight of a friend whom she was so pleased to 
 recognize, that she quite forgot certain reasons 
 which she had for being offended with him. 
 
 " Please don't cut me, Mr. Archdale," said she, 
 laughing ; " I really can't afford to be cut by the 
 only acquaintance whom I have come across for 
 three days." 
 
 The young man started and took off his hat, 
 colouring slightly. For a moment he looked quite 
 shy, but quickly recovered himself and seemed to 
 be as delighted to see Mrs. Brett as he declared 
 that he was. '' I had no idea you were in London," 
 he added. 
 
 '' Where else should I be ? " she asked. " Don't 
 you know that I live here ? " 
 
 *' Oh yes ; and so do I, for the matter of that. 
 But it is my privilege to be often absent from home, 
 and I fancied that it was yours too." 
 
 " I only wish it were ! I have been paying a few 
 visits during the autumn, but I have come to the 
 end of them now, and I have a long period of 
 domestic felicity to look forward to. And what 
 have you been doing all this time ? " 
 
 They sat down and he gave an account of him- 
 self. He had spent part of the summer in Belgium
 
 THE APPBOACn OF TEE IXEVITADLE. 205 
 
 and Holland : then he had been at "Wetherby, 
 " working like a horse," and now he proposed to be 
 more or less in London, for a good many months 
 to come. " x\nd you ? " he inquired. " Have you 
 been having a pretty good time of it ? How did 
 you like Lynton ? " 
 
 Marcia made a grimace. ''Lynton was well 
 enough, though I didn't have a particularly good 
 time of it even there ; but, since my boy went back 
 to school, I have been chiefly occupied in counting 
 the days to Christmas. Christmas is still a long 
 way off," she added, with a sigh. *' However, now 
 that you are here, perhaps you will look in upon 
 me every now and then, and cheer me up." 
 
 '' Of course I should like nothing better than to 
 call upon you, Mrs. Brett — if I may," answered 
 Archdale, somewhat hesitatingly. 
 
 It may seem improbable, but it is nevertheless 
 true, that up to that moment Marcia had not given 
 a thought to the circumstances under which she 
 had last seen her interlocutor. When these were 
 recalled to her memory by his questioning glance, 
 she was momentarily embarrassed ; but she said, 
 with a laugh, " You may and you must. That is, 
 if you care at all about retaining my friendship. 
 I couldn't promise you a very hearty welcome from 
 Mr. Brett ; but Mr. Brett only comes home in time
 
 206 MARCIA. 
 
 to dress for dinner, and perhaps you are not over- 
 whelmingly anxious to see him." 
 
 Afterwards she remembered this speech, and 
 wondered how she could have said anything so 
 liable to misconstruction ; but Archdale seemed to 
 take it quite as a matter of course. 
 
 '' I'll take care to be out of the house before the 
 dressing-bell rings," was his reply. '' I shall turn 
 up about five o'clock to-morrow, and I'm afraid, if 
 I consult my own inclinations, I shall turn up at 
 that hour on most days of the week. You will 
 have to give me a hint when you have had enough 
 of me." 
 
 Marcia nodded and smiled. " That is a woman's 
 privilege," she observed. *' However, you are still 
 better off than we are ; because, when you are tired 
 of us, you can simply drop us, without being 
 reduced to the painful necessity of hinting as much. 
 I must go now. Till to-morrow, then." 
 
 So she departed, leaving behind her a man who 
 — perhaps for the first time in his life — was troubled 
 by conscientious scruples.
 
 ( 207 ) 
 
 CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 A CHOICE OF EVILS. 
 
 It has already been mentioned that Archdale 
 possessed as an intimate friend one Mr. Alfred 
 Drake, who occasionally did him the honour to 
 borrow a little money of him, and sometimes (after 
 a prosperous week at Newmarket, or a night of 
 luck at a certain club) even went so far as to 
 repay the amount. Now it so chanced that, on 
 the morning after Archdale's meeting with Marcia 
 Brett, Mr. Drake looked in upon his friend, whom 
 he found in a somewhat absent and dejected frame 
 of mind; and, judging of these symptoms by the 
 light of previous experience, he soon inquired — 
 
 "Well, what's the matter now? Has she 
 thrown you over? Or has the husband kicked 
 you downstairs ? " 
 
 *' I really don't know who you are talking about," 
 answered Archdale. 
 
 ** Nor do I, my dear fellow, and I wouldn't for
 
 208 MARCIA. 
 
 the world be so indiscreet as to ask her name. I 
 suppose it is one of them, though." 
 
 Archdale, who thought highly of Mr. Drake's 
 shrewdness and common sense, not unfrequently 
 asked that gentleman's advice, which of course 
 was quite another thing from taking it. He 
 thought he would ask Drake's advice now. 
 
 '* The truth is," said he, " that I am in rather a 
 fix. At least, I'm afraid I am in some danger of 
 getting into a fix. I told you some months ago 
 about Mrs. Brett, you know. Well, in the begin- 
 ning of the summer I met her at Wetherby, where 
 she was staying, and where, as I think I must have 
 mentioned to you, I had a commission to execute. 
 I didn't see very much of her ; but one evening we 
 went out for a walk after dinner, and unluckily we 
 missed our way, and came back rather late. So 
 then there was a — I don't exactly know what to 
 call it." 
 
 Mr. Drake had lighted a cigar and had selected 
 the most comfortable chair that he could find. 
 *' A shindy?" he suggested blandly. 
 
 *'0h no; nothing of the sort. But Lady 
 Wetherby got up on her hind-legs, and said that 
 sort of thing wouldn't do, and she must request me 
 to go away and stay away until Mrs. Brett had left. 
 So I went."
 
 A CHOICE OF EVILS. 209 
 
 *' So I should imagine. People generally do go 
 a^Yay Tvhen they are turned out of the house." 
 
 *' Well, of course. But the fact is I couldn't 
 help feeling that Lady Wetherhy Tras right. It 
 seems that old Brett was getting jealous — and — 
 and he's a horrid old brute, and of course she 
 must hate him." 
 
 Archdale paused, and ^Ir. Drake, for some 
 reason or other, laughed. 
 
 '' Now I want you to understand just this," 
 resumed the former presently: "nobody could 
 have behaved better than I have about it. I saw 
 that I ought to make myself scarce, and I did. I 
 haven't written to her, I haven't attempted to see 
 her or find out where she was, — though I don't 
 mind telling you that I have been simply dying for 
 news of her all this time, — it wasn't any fault of 
 mine that I came across her yesterday at a picture- 
 gallery, and that she asked me to go and see her. 
 Now, what is one to do in such a case as that ? " 
 
 " Oh, I know what you'll do," answered Drake 
 unhesitatingly; " you'll go and see her. You'll be 
 a fool for your pains ; but I dare say you know 
 that as well as I do. Nothing that I can say will 
 prevent your going; but one precaution I do beg 
 of you to take, otherwise there's no knowing what 
 trouble you may not get into : don't make any 
 
 VOL. I. p
 
 210 MABCIA. 
 
 mystery of your visit. If I were in your place, 
 I should leave a card for the husband." 
 
 *' I don't think you quite understand my diffi- 
 culty ; I was thinking of her, not of any possible 
 future discomfort to myself. My feeling is that, 
 for her sake, it might perhaps be better that we 
 should not meet just at present. And yet " 
 
 *' Oh, I see ! " said Drake, laughing ; " these are 
 the penalties that one has to pay for being so 
 irresistible. Well, you are merciful, my dear boy, 
 if you aren't over and above modest, and these 
 scruples are most creditable to you, I'm sure. 
 Only, as there isn't the very slightest chance of 
 your acting upon them, I don't know that they will 
 be of much practical use to you or Mrs. Brett or 
 anybody else." 
 
 " I suppose that means that if you were in my 
 place you would call." 
 
 '' I think I told you what I should do if I were in 
 your place. I should call — and I should leave a 
 card for Mr. Brett." 
 
 That was enough for Archdale. He called at 
 Cornwall Terrace the same afternoon, and if he did 
 not leave a card for Mr. Brett he only refrained 
 from doing so in obedience to a hint which he 
 could not disregard. 
 
 " I f3hall not tell my husband that you have been
 
 A CHOICE OF EVILS. 211 
 
 here," Marcia informed liim laughingly. *'My 
 husband, I am afraid, is not precisely devoted 
 to you, and perhaps it would be hardly worth 
 while to let him know that you are in London." 
 
 The speech, though doubtless unwise, was 
 scarcely unpardonable. Ai'chdale accepted it as 
 merely an additional proof of Mrs. Brett's candour 
 and innocence ; and, notwithstanding his disincli- 
 nation to involve himself in what to many persons 
 might wear the appearance of a perilous intrigue, 
 he repeated his visit the next day, and the day 
 after that and every day. Marcia made no secret 
 of the pleasure that it gave her to see him. Some- 
 times during the preceding season she had thought 
 him a little bit wanting in delicacy, perhaps a 
 shade vulgar ; but she did not think him so now. 
 He seemed to have a perfect understanding of her 
 situation and her trials ; she could see that he was 
 very sorry for her, although he refrained from 
 saying as much in plain words, and, if she could 
 see a little more than that, how was the poor 
 fellow to help himself ? There are certain emotions 
 which it is really impossible to conceal, and the 
 utmost that can be required of any frail mortal is 
 that he should keep silence with reference to them. 
 
 Archdale kept silence with his tongue and only 
 spoke with his eyes ; so that Marcia was almost as
 
 212 MABCIA. 
 
 sorry for him as she was for herself, or as he was 
 for her. Perhaps, too, she rather enjoyed the 
 quasi-clandestine character of their interviews, 
 which invested them with something of the glamour 
 of romance. 
 
 *' I often wish I were dead ! " she sighed, one 
 afternoon, when he was sitting, as usual, heside 
 her tea-tahle. ** I have made an utter fiasco of my 
 life, and Providence doesn't allow us a chance of 
 profiting by our experience. It would have been a 
 great deal better never to have been born than to 
 be as discontented as I am." 
 
 ''I wish" — began Archdale, and then stopped 
 short. 
 
 "Well? " said Marcia interrogatively. 
 
 " Oh, I was going to say a very shocking thing ; 
 I was going to say that I wished Mr. Brett had 
 never been born. But perhaps, after all, that is 
 wishing him no evil, and perhaps it isn't wishing 
 myself any good. I suppose, if you hadn't married 
 him, you would have married some other brute." 
 
 This, of course, was tantamount to a declara- 
 tion ; but Marcia was accustomed to such innuen- 
 does and was not embarrassed by them. " Do 
 you think I have an unconquerable predilection 
 for brutes, then ? " she asked smilingly. 
 
 *' No ; I only meant to say that you w^ould have
 
 A CHOICE OF EVILS. 213 
 
 married somebody whom I should have considered 
 a brute. AW men are more or less of brutes, I'm 
 afraid, and certainly no man is good enough to be 
 your husband, 'Mvs. Brett." 
 
 To some peoj^le sweet things are poison, while 
 others, of more robust constitution, swallow them 
 and enjoy them and appear to thrive upon them. 
 Marcia, who belonged to the latter class, was not 
 repelled by the above somewhat sweeping asser- 
 tion, and was about to make an appropriate 
 rejoinder, when the door was suddenly thrown 
 open and Lady Brett was announced. 
 
 The virtuous Caroline sailed up the room, hold- 
 ing out both her hands, as her habit was. It was 
 also a habit of hers to kiss her sister-in-law, who 
 did not like that ceremony, but submitted to it, 
 and wiped away the traces with her pocket-hand- 
 kerchief on the earliest opportunity. Archdale, 
 looldng on, thought to himself that he would pay 
 a good round sum to be excused from kissing Lady 
 Brett ; but he was in no danger of being placed 
 in any such dilemma, and the very cold bow with 
 which his presence was acknowledged was a suffi- 
 cient indication of her ladyship's sentiments with 
 regard to him. However, in order to remove any 
 possible doubt that might exist upon the point, 
 Caroline hastened to say —
 
 214 MAEOIA. 
 
 "My dear Marcia, I am only in London for 
 a few days, and I am most anxious to hear all 
 your news. Especially about poor Eustace, who, 
 I am afraid, is very little the better for his short 
 holiday. I hoped that I should find you — 
 disengaged." 
 
 '' I'll go away," said Archdale, getting up and 
 laughing. 
 
 But Marcia motioned to him to resume his seat 
 and answered: ''Please don't; we are not going 
 to talk secrets. Indeed, I don't think I have any 
 news, secret or otherwise, to give you, Caroline," 
 she added. ''Eustace, to the best of my belief, is 
 neither better nor worse than he was before we 
 went to Lynton. He wasn't ill then, and he isn't 
 ill now." 
 
 Lady Brett shook her head, smiled sadly and 
 sighed. "Eustace never complains," she observed ; 
 " but one cannot look at him without seeing that 
 he often suffers. Invalids learn to detect symptoms 
 which I dare say are not noticed by people in 
 robust health." 
 
 "But surely," exclaimed Marcia, "you don't 
 call yourself an invalid ! I am thankful to say 
 that I am perfectly healthy, but I can't flatter 
 myself that I look as strong as you do." 
 
 A more dire affront could not have been uttered,
 
 A CHOICE OF EVILS. 215 
 
 and of that Marcia was perfectly well aware. The 
 fact was, that Lady Brett had declared war by 
 ostentatiously tui-ning her shoulder towards Arch- 
 dale, and when once war has been declared it is 
 doubtless best to assume the offensive. 
 
 "It is kind of you to say that, dear," returned 
 Caroline sweetly; ''only of course you cannot be 
 sincere. The doctor was quite shocked when he 
 saw me yesterday, though nobody knows better 
 than he what a wretched state of health I am in. 
 However, I am so far like Eustace that I try to 
 avoid egotism, and I have no doubt that, so long 
 as we can manage to get through our daily duties, 
 healthy peoi^le will give us credit for being as 
 strong as they are. You have good accounts of 
 Willie, I hope?" 
 
 She remained for about half an hour, being 
 evidently determined to outstay Archdale, who was 
 equally determined not to be outstayed, and affect- 
 ing not to notice the efforts which Marcia made 
 from time to time to draw him into the conversa- 
 tion. When at length she was compelled to take 
 her leave, and when he politely held the door open 
 for her, she favoured him with another distant 
 salute, but ignored his outstretched hand. 
 
 '' Do you know what that woman will do ? " 
 asked Marcia, as soon as Lady Brett was out of
 
 216 MARCIA. 
 
 the room. '' She will feel it her duty to tell 
 Eustace that I see far too much of you, and that 
 you ought not to be admitted during his absence." 
 
 '' Oh, I hope she won't be so ill-natured as 
 that," answered Archdale, who, nevertheless, had 
 an uncomfortable conviction that she would. 
 
 " Caroline," answered Marcia, '' is ill-natured 
 enough for anything, and she hates me so cordially 
 that if she couldn't find anything true to say 
 against me, she would certainly invent something 
 false. But really I don't care, if you don't." 
 
 Lady Brett was too good a Christian to hate 
 anybody; what she hated was, of course, the sin, 
 not the sinner. Still, sinners must occasionally 
 be made to suffer for their sins, and, as Marcia had 
 rightly divined, she felt it to be an imperative duty 
 to warn Eustace that his domestic happiness was 
 being trifled with. The letter to that effect which 
 she had begun to compose on her way downstairs 
 was, however, not despatched; for just as she 
 reached the hall-door whom should she encounter 
 but Eustace himself, who at that moment w^as in 
 the act of letting himself in with his latch-key. 
 
 She greeted him effusively, drew him into his 
 study and administered her little dose of poison 
 in a most affectionate and considerate way. She 
 ^vas sure he would believe her when she said that
 
 A CHOICE OF EVILS. 217 
 
 nothing was further from her mind than a desire 
 to make mischief; yet she could not think that 
 his sanction had been given to the very intimate 
 footing upon which Mr. Archdale stood with 
 "poor, dear Marcia." Poor dear Marcia might 
 see nothing wrong in what she was doing — very 
 likely she did not — but it was not to be expected 
 that she would escape the condemnation of a 
 censorious world, while there could, unhappily, be 
 very little doubt about the interpretation which 
 would be placed upon her behaviour by a man 
 of Mr. Ai'chdale's character. 
 
 ''And he is here every day; I ascertained that 
 from — from what was said in my presence," con- 
 tinued Lady Brett, who shrank fi'om confessing 
 that she had stooped to make inquiries of the 
 butler. '^ I do hope you will be firm, dear Eustace, 
 and put a stop to this at once. It will be a 
 trial for you to speak to Marcia about it, I know ; 
 but sooner or later you will be compelled to speak, 
 and nothing is gained by putting off the evil 
 day." 
 
 Very brief and very chilling were the replies 
 which Mr. Brett vouchsafed to his sister-in-law ; 
 yet, such as they were, they convinced her that 
 she had alarmed him. "So he didn't know that 
 that man was in the habit of drinking tea at his
 
 218 MARC I A. 
 
 house every day," she thought, as she drove away. 
 *' I was sure he didn't ! " 
 
 Mr. Brett had heen ignorant, not only of that, 
 but of the fact that Archdale was in London, and 
 it was not an agreeable reflection to him that his 
 wife had deceived him in the matter. He walked 
 slowly upstairs, wondering what he ought to do or 
 say, and disliking intensely the situation into 
 which he had been forced by circumstances. From 
 such situations few men can extricate themselves 
 with dignity, and fewer still with any approach to 
 triumph. The majority, it would appear, close 
 their eyes or turn their backs and hope for the 
 best. But Mr. Brett, who did not belong to the 
 majority, was neither a coward nor a humbug. 
 His unswerving custom was to act according to his 
 lights and obey the voice of his conscience ; it was 
 certain that he would always do what he deemed 
 to be right and scarcely less certain that he would 
 always do it in the wrong way. 
 
 His face was very stern and his manner more 
 repellent than usual when he entered the drawing- 
 room and held out his thin, cold hand to the artist. 
 '' How do you do, Mr. Archdale ? " said he. " I 
 hear that you have already done us the honour 
 to call more than once. I should of course have 
 returned your visits if I had been told of them. 
 Please accejpt my apologies."
 
 A CHOICE OF EVILS. 219 
 
 He was painfully conscious of being ridiculous ; 
 but he did not see how that could be helped. It 
 was essential — or at any rate he thought so — that 
 Archdale should be snubbed and that Marcia 
 should be put to confusion; as for himself, it 
 was to be presumed that they both despised him 
 already ; so that it did not greatly signify what 
 sort of figure he might cut in their opinion. He 
 was so far successful that Marcia was visibly con- 
 fused; but to snub Archdale was no such easy 
 matter. 
 
 "I believe," replied the latter tranquilly, "that 
 it is I who owe you an apology, Mr. Brett. I 
 ought to have dropped a card upon the hall-table 
 as I went out ; but I quite forgot to do it, and I 
 never dreamt of expecting a busy man like j'ou to 
 call upon me. Not that I shouldn't be charmed 
 to see you if you cared to look in at my studio 
 any day. It is rather empty just at present, I am 
 sorry to say; still I have one or two completed 
 pictures to exhibit, and I should be glad to hear 
 your criticisms upon them." 
 
 " I am not qualified to criticise pictures," 
 answered Mr. Brett curtly. 
 
 He remained standing; so that Archdale, who 
 had risen to shake hands with him, could not very 
 well sit down again. There was an awkward
 
 220 MAR CIA. 
 
 moment of silence, which Marcia terminated by 
 remarking — 
 
 ** Caroline has been here. She came to inquire 
 after your health, and seemed to think me very 
 heartless when I told her that, so far as I knew, 
 there was nothing the matter with you. Perhaps 
 you met her as you came in ? " 
 
 "Yes — I met her as I came in," answered Mr. 
 Brett, raising his eyes and looking steadily at his 
 wife for an instant. He had no intention of denying 
 that Caroline was answerable for so unusual an event 
 as his appearance in the drawing-room at that hour. 
 
 Archdale glanced at his watch and said he must 
 be off. Perhaps it was not so much bravado as 
 a wish to appear as though he had nothing to 
 conceal that made him add on taking leave of 
 Marcia : '' I hope you may be persuaded to come 
 and look at my poor daubs some time or other. 
 Mr. Brett, I'm afraid, won't." 
 
 When the husband and wife were left together, 
 Mr. Brett opened fire without delay. '^ I cannot 
 allow you to go to that man's studio, Marcia," 
 said he. ''I must also request that you will cease 
 to receive him here, as I understand that you have 
 been doing lately. I confess that I am surprised 
 at your having said nothing to me about these 
 visits of his."
 
 A CHOICE OF EVILS. 221 
 
 *'I did not think that you would be interested 
 in hearing "^'ho had called," answered Marcia. 
 *' You have never seemed to be so before. If 
 Caroline says that Mr. Archdale is to be forbidden 
 the house, of course it must be done. Only you 
 must do it yourself, please. I really cannot under- 
 take to insult my friends at your bidding or even 
 at Caroline's." 
 
 " You are not asked to insult anybody, Marcia, 
 nor have I the slightest wish to dejprive you of the 
 many friends of yours who are not my friends. 
 But as regards Mr. Archdale, I have already given 
 you reasons for avoiding the reality or the appear- 
 ance of intimacy with him. If you do not think 
 those reasons good, it would probably be out of 
 my power to convince you that they are so. I 
 must, therefore, however reluctantly, claim the 
 authority to which I am entitled. But I hope that, 
 for your own sake as well as mine, you will not 
 compel me to give any orders upon the subject to 
 the servants." 
 
 *' What do you expect me to do, then ? Am I to 
 write to Mr. Archdale and say, ' My husband will 
 not allow me to receive your visits, which in his 
 opinion are compromising me ' *? " 
 
 " I should not think that it would be necessary 
 to be so exphcit. If you yourself desired to get
 
 222 MARCIA. 
 
 rid of a troublesome acquaintance, you would no 
 doubt find some easy and polite way of dismissing 
 him. At any rate, that is a matter of detail which 
 I will gladly leave in your hands." 
 
 Mr. Brett smiled faintly as he spoke, and his 
 smile, which was in reality expressive of nothing 
 but relief at the thought that he had got through 
 a most distasteful task, seemed to Marcia to be 
 one of triumph. 
 
 *' A troublesome acquaintance ! " she exclaimed. 
 ** Of course I could get rid of a troublesome ac- 
 quaintance ; so could any fool. But Mr. Archdale 
 is much more than an acquaintance ; he is a 
 friend, who knows that I value his friendship, and 
 if I am to cut him in future, he will naturally 
 demand an explanation. When he does, I shall 
 give him the true one." 
 
 " Well, I am not prepared to say that that would 
 be a bad plan. So far as I am concerned, he is 
 quite welcome to the information that I can no 
 longer permit him to be my wife's friend." 
 
 Marcia, whose nerves had been out of gear for 
 some time past, and who was always irritated by 
 her husband's cold impassibility, lost all control 
 over herself. ''I can't endure this! " she ejacu- 
 lated; "it is too insulting and humihating ! If 
 you were jealous I could forgive you, though I
 
 A CHOICE OF EVILS. 223 
 
 might think you unreasonable ; but you are not. 
 You don't care one atom for me, or for what 
 may become of me ; it is only that Caroline has 
 frightened you by telling you that you will have 
 a scandal in the family unless you mind what you 
 are about. She has no right to say such things, 
 and you have no right to believe them — no gentle- 
 man would. As for me, I am tired of being sus- 
 pected and spied upon. I would rather make an 
 end of it, once for all." 
 
 "You speak harshly and unjustly," observed 
 Mr. Brett; "but perhaps that is not surprising. 
 When 3'ou have had leisure to reflect more coolly 
 you will, I hope, see that I have simply done my 
 duty, and that I have not deserved such language. 
 I doubt whether any protestations of affection on 
 my part would be welcome to you ; still, as a mere 
 question of fact, you must, I suppose, be aware 
 that all the years of our married life have made 
 no change in my love for you." 
 
 " It is just possible that you may think you are 
 speaking the truth, Eustace. I dare say you can 
 always manage to persuade 3'ourself that you are 
 speaking the truth. But the real truth is that we 
 made a most miserable mistake when we married, 
 and that our only chance of escaping misery for 
 the rest of our lives is to part. I know what you
 
 224 MAE CIA. 
 
 will say : separations are not respectable. All I 
 can tell you is that I have done my very best to 
 escape what I now feel to be a matter of sheer 
 necessity. I can't bear it any longer ! If I were 
 to continue living with you I verily believe I should 
 go mad. We need not quarrel ; but we can live 
 apart, and Willie, if you insist upon it, can divide 
 his time between us. There is no help for it : 
 sooner or later it must have come to this." 
 
 Mr. Brett was standing beside the table, slowly 
 turning a paper-cutter between his fingers. He 
 answered gravely, without raising his eyes : " I 
 shall never be able to forget what you have said, 
 Marcia ; but at present it is impossible for me to 
 judge whether you are serious or whether you are 
 under the influence of excitement. I will speak 
 to you again to-morrow morning before I go out, 
 or on my return in the afternoon : just now it 
 would be both useless and painful to both of us 
 to prolong this conversation." 
 
 He left the room at once, while Marcia, with 
 tears in her eyes and clenched hands, cried aloud : 
 " I hate him ! — I hate him ! " 
 
 Possibly she did hate him ; in any case she was 
 furiously angry with him and truly sorry for her- 
 self. Moreover, she was sincere in her belief that 
 she must leave him if she wished to retain posses-
 
 A CHOICE OF EVILS. 225 
 
 sion of her senses. There is a great deal to he 
 said against amicahle sei^arations, and there is a 
 great deal to he said against having your arm or 
 your leg cut off; hut a choice of evils is among 
 the most common of human experiences. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 226 MAR CIA. 
 
 CHAPTEE XV. 
 
 WILLIE DISAPPROVES. 
 
 It is almost invariably the impetuous people who 
 get their own way in this world ; but it is to the 
 phlegmatic that the majority of victories (that is 
 to say, all the unimportant ones) fall, and thus 
 the latter usually gain a reputation for firmness 
 which it would be ungenerous to grudge them, 
 since that represents about the sum of their gains. 
 Mr. Brett was so far successful that when Marcia 
 rose on the following morning she was suffering 
 from the effects of reaction, and was ready to haul 
 down her colours for the time being. She had 
 lived long enough to know that a woman who is 
 separated from her husband is in a very false 
 position; she could not but acknowledge that, as 
 regarded the particular point in dispute, Eustace 
 had a better case than she could put forward ; 
 she perceived also that so long as she remained 
 under his roof it would be impossible for her to 
 defy him. She might, indeed, refuse to give her
 
 WILLIE DISAPPROVES. 227 
 
 friend his dismissal ; but her friend Tvould never- 
 theless be dismissed. All things considered, there- 
 fore, it seemed best to sit down and vrrite the 
 subjoined letter — 
 
 ''Deae Mr. Aechdale, 
 
 " I am very sorry that I must ask you 
 not to come here any more for the present. I 
 have spoken to you frankly — more frankly, per- 
 haps, than I ought to have done — about my 
 husband; so that I dare say you will see how it 
 is that I am obliged to make this inhospitable 
 request. I would rather not say any more than 
 this about it ; only I hope you will understand 
 that I do not wish our acquaintanceship to cease. 
 The loss of your visits will be a very real loss to 
 me ; but it is, I think, an inevitable one, and all 
 I can tell you is that it will always be a great 
 pleasure to me if I should chance to meet you 
 anywhere except in my own house. 
 
 *' Believe me, very sincerely yours, 
 
 " Marcia Beett." 
 
 Mr. Brett had left for the police-court before 
 this somewhat imprudent epistle was composed ; 
 but he returned straight home after his day's 
 work was done, instead of going to his club, as
 
 228 MAR CIA. 
 
 usual, and he found his wife waiting for him in 
 the drawing-room with the air of a saint and a 
 martyr. As was to be expected, the lapse of 
 twenty-four hours had exercised a different in- 
 fluence upon him from that which it had pro- 
 duced upon her. Without any introductory 
 remarks, he began — 
 
 ''I have been thinking over what you said to 
 me yesterday, Marcia, and I have been obliged, 
 much against my will, to admit that your wish 
 to live apart from me is not an unnatural one. 
 I myself have religious objections, which I pre- 
 sume that you do not share, to the dissolution of 
 any marriage ; but setting those aside, I still think 
 that there are others which ought to make you 
 pause before taking a step which would be virtually 
 irrevocable. It is only too true that we are not 
 in sympathy with one another, and that there is 
 little, if any, hope of our ever being able now to 
 live together upon such terms as are desirable 
 between husband and wife ; but we have to con- 
 sider our child as well as ourselves. It is on his 
 account that I beg you for a little forbearance 
 which I would not ask for on my own. You must 
 see what a serious misfortune it would be for him 
 to know that his parents had quarrelled, and to 
 be compelled — as, in the nature of things, he
 
 WILLIE DISAPPROVES. 229 
 
 would be coropelled — to take one side or the other. 
 I say nothing of your own future as a married 
 woman without a husband ; you have probably 
 weighed the advantages against the disadvantages 
 of such a position. But I do appeal to you, for 
 Willie's sake, to consider whether some sort of 
 modus Vivendi cannot be agreed upon between us. 
 I am willing to make any concession that I can 
 honestly and honourably make ; but, rightly or 
 wrongly, I hold an opinion which I cannot change 
 to the effect that it is a husband's duty to protect 
 his wife from slander ; and that is why I must 
 maintain my prohibition against your intimacy 
 with Mr. Archdale." 
 
 This harangue was delivered in slow, unmodu- 
 lated accents, and gave the impression of having 
 been learnt (as indeed it had been) by heart. To 
 Marcia it was offensive in a degree which its 
 author, who thought it decidedly conciliatory, was 
 quite incapable of realizing. 
 
 ''I have written to Mr. Archdale," she replied, 
 ** and I have told him that I do not wish him to 
 come here any more. I may, and I probably 
 shall, meet him elsewhere, and if I do meet him 
 I shall not cut him dead. You will hardly expect 
 that of me, I suppose ? " 
 
 *' No ; I do not expect that ; I do not even wish
 
 230 MARCIA. 
 
 it. I am not sure whether I have made it clear 
 to you, Marcia, that this is to my mind a mere 
 matter of expediency. As you said yesterday, I 
 am not jealous of Mr. Archdale, and I may add 
 that I have confidence in your sense of what is 
 due to yourself as well as to me. But neither 
 you nor I can aftord to despise the gossip of our 
 neighbours." 
 
 *' Oh, I can quite enter into your feelings," 
 answered Marcia, with a touch of scorn, "and I 
 agree with you that we had better keep up appear- 
 ances as long as it is possible to keep them up. 
 Whether it will always be possible is more than 
 I can tell yet ; but I will do my best. It seems 
 to me that I have been doing my best for a very 
 long time, and the result hasn't been particularly 
 encouraging." 
 
 Mr. Brett made no rejoinder, having in truth 
 none to make. Possibly she had done her best, 
 and possibly he had not done his best; justice 
 forced that unspoken admission from him. 
 
 So a reconciliation which was in no true sense 
 of the word a reconciliation was patched up, and 
 weeks passed without any further collision between 
 the ill-mated couple. If they were not altogether 
 unhappy weeks for Marcia, it must be confessed 
 that the reason why they were not so was that she
 
 WILLIE DISAPPROVES. 231 
 
 contrived to meet x\rcbdale pretty frequently in 
 the course of them. He wrote a very prettily 
 worded and sympathetic reply to her note, in 
 which he said that he would be guided entirely 
 by her orders as to their future relations, at the 
 same time hinting that if he was to be deprived 
 of the solace of exchanging a few words with her 
 every now and then, his life, already miserable 
 enough, would hardly be worth having. He added 
 that some researches which he was making into 
 the method of the early Italian school would 
 compel him to spend the whole of the following 
 afternoon at the National Gallery. 
 
 Some months earlier Marcia might, perhaps, 
 have thought the intimation a trifle impertinent ; 
 but now she knew the man, and his impertinences, 
 if such they were, had become pleasant to her — 
 as indeed they had to many another woman before. 
 She went to the National Gallery, and they had a 
 long talk together, in the course of which a good 
 deal was said that would have been better left 
 unsaid. She meant no harm ; but she thought 
 that she owed a fuller explanation to her friend 
 than she could put upon paper, and naturally 
 that explanation included some unflattering com- 
 ments upon the conduct of her husband. As for 
 Archdale, he was in the seventh heaven; because
 
 232 MAR CIA. 
 
 this was exactly the sort of thing in which he 
 dehghted. He did not wish to get into trouble — 
 his way of putting it would have been that he 
 loved Marcia too truly to expose her to the risk 
 of getting into trouble — but he did wish very much 
 to make her understand that he adored her ; and 
 if any doubt as to that existed in her mind at the 
 close of their interview, the fault was assuredly 
 not his. 
 
 After this they met almost daily, sometimes at 
 the National Gallery, sometimes in the Park, and 
 occasionally at the house of one or other of their 
 friends ; and the surreptitious character of these 
 encounters invested them, no doubt, with addi- 
 tional charm. Marcia had a certain exciting half- 
 consciousness of danger, but it was not until 
 within a few weeks of Christmas that she found 
 out all of a sudden how real the danger was. She 
 was walking down Curzon Street with Archdale, 
 who had kindly offered to see her a part of the 
 way home from the house where they had both 
 been having tea, when he said casually, "I am 
 rather thinking of spending the rest of the winter 
 in Florence and Kome. How I wish you were 
 going to be there too ! " 
 
 The announcement took her breath away and 
 made her heart stand still. In an instant she
 
 WILLIE DISAPPROVES. 233 
 
 realized what she had never realized before, how 
 much she cared for this man, and what a terrible 
 blank his absence would leave in her life. For a 
 long time she had felt that he was her one friend, 
 and that only to him could she speak candidly 
 of the weariness and discouragement of her exist- 
 ence ; but now she knew that he was a great deal 
 more than a friend, and that his desertion of her 
 would imply misery far worse than anything that 
 she had hitherto imagined to be misery. It was 
 not without shame and not without happiness that 
 she recognized the truth. It is not permissible 
 that a married woman should love any man except 
 her husband ; but then again it is not possible to 
 help loving a person whom theoretically one has 
 no right to love. More cannot be required of 
 human beings — because it would be against nature 
 to require it — than that they should conceal their 
 feelings. Marcia thought that she was concealing 
 hers when she remarked, with some slight tremu- 
 lousness of intonation, " I am sorry you are going 
 away ; I shall miss you." 
 
 '' If I could think that you would really miss 
 me, Mrs. Brett," answered Archdale at once, ** I 
 wouldn't go. I am sure you know without my 
 telling you that, so long as you are in London, 
 I would much rather be where I am than in Italy ;
 
 234 MARCIA. 
 
 but it isn't always wise to consult one's own 
 inclinations." 
 
 " Ob, if it is a question of wisdom ! " 
 
 *' Well, perhaps it isn't. I have never pretended 
 to be wise, and I am not convinced that I know 
 what constitutes true wisdom. But I think I 
 know what constitutes happiness, and one thing 
 I know for certain, that if by remaining in Eng- 
 land I could increase your happiness in ever so 
 small a degree, I should increase my own enor- 
 mously." 
 
 "That is absurd," answered Marcia, laughing. 
 " Of course I shall miss you if you go, and I shall 
 be glad if you stay ; but I would not for the world 
 think of interfering with your plans. Will you 
 call a hansom for me, please ? " 
 
 He did as he was requested, and although 
 nothing more than has been set down above 
 passed between them, Marcia knew very well, as 
 she was being driven homewards, that Mr. Arch- 
 dale would not go to Italy. " I suppose I ought 
 to wish him to go," she thought to herself; ''but 
 I can't and I don't ! After all, what sin can there 
 be in seeing him and talking to him every now 
 and then ? And I ask for nothing more. I don't 
 believe he cares for me a tenth part as much as 
 I care for him ; yet if he cares only a very little,
 
 WILLIE DISAPPBOVES. 235 
 
 that is something. At any rate it is all that I 
 have to live for." 
 
 It was all that she did live for just then ; but 
 Willie's return home for the Christmas holiday's 
 made a difference. For some days after his 
 arrival his mother could onh- think of him, and 
 although it distressed her a little to notice how 
 rapidly he was developing both mentally and 
 physically, and how independent he was becoming, 
 maternal pride consoled her in some measure for 
 the emancipation which she foresaw. There was 
 no renewal of the rivalry which had subsisted 
 between her and her husband during the summer. 
 Mr. Brett, who was much occupied, and whose 
 health was once more falling into an unsatisfactory 
 condition, scarcely noticed the boy ; so that Marcia 
 was not only free to keep him with her all day, 
 but could take him to the pantomimes in the 
 evening. And she availed herself to the utmost 
 of these privileges. It was too late now to say 
 to her heart and her conscience that she loved 
 Willie better than everybody else in the world put 
 together ; but she did feel that while Willie was 
 with her she wanted nobody else. Perhaps also 
 she was aware that his presence was a protection 
 against dangers which she did not care to con- 
 template.
 
 236 31 An CIA. 
 
 Certainly it was not with the expectation of meet- 
 ing Archdale — because, for some reason or other, 
 she shrank from the idea of bringing him and "WilKe 
 together — that she took him to a concert at St. 
 James's Hall ; but, as it ha^^pened, there Archdale 
 was among the audience, and at the first oppor- 
 tunity he left his seat to take one at her elbow. 
 
 '* Where have you been hiding yourself?" he 
 asked in a reproachful undertone. "I haven't 
 seen you for the last hundred years." 
 
 *'I haven't hidden myself at all," answered 
 Marcia, laughing rather nervously; ''but I have 
 been in places which I suppose you don't frequent 
 — circuses and pantomimes, and so on. We have 
 been making the most of our Christmas holidays, 
 Willie and I." 
 
 " Poor you ! " exclaimed Archdale. " How glad 
 you must be that Christmas only comes once a 
 year ! " 
 
 It was scarcely a kind speech to make, but Marcia 
 did not resent it, because her ov/n temperament 
 enabled her to sympathize with the speaker and 
 because the annoyance which she discerned in his 
 face was not unflattering to her. Besides, he was 
 justified in looking with jealous eyes upon the one 
 and only formidable rival whom he had in the world. 
 He retained the disengaged chair of which he had
 
 WILLIE DISAPPROVES. 237 
 
 taken possession until the end of the performance, 
 and she talked to him over her shoulder, and he said 
 a few patronizing words to the boy. Marcia was not 
 sorry that an encounter which was probably inevi- 
 table had taken place, and it passed off, upon the 
 whole, more smoothly than she had ventured to 
 anticipate. However, as Willie walked away with 
 his mother he said decisively — 
 
 *'I don't like that fellow." 
 
 '* Oh, but you must try to Hke him," Marcia 
 answered anxiously, ''because he is a great friend 
 of mine, and he is really very nice. What is it 
 that you dislike in him ? " 
 
 '' Isn't he rather a conceited sort of chap ? " 
 Wilhe inquired. 
 
 " Oh dear, no ! he tliinks nothing of himself, 
 although in reality he is one of the most famous 
 artists living. I know what you mean, but it's only 
 his manner. It comes from being so run after and 
 lionized. Anybody else would have been spoilt by 
 all the adulation which has been showered upon 
 him, but he isn't in the least. If you knew him 
 better you would find that he hardly ever mentions 
 his pictures, and when he does it is only to 
 depreciate them." 
 
 " I expect he does that because he wants to be 
 contradicted," observed Willie, with what seemed
 
 238 MABCIA, 
 
 to his mother to be abnormal precocity. She was 
 not aware — and, for that matter, not many people 
 are — that schoolboys can perceive the obvious 
 quite as easily as full-grown men, and that the 
 characters of men differ from those of boys only in 
 a few comparatively unimportant particulars. As, 
 however, she knew something of the peculiarities 
 of the male sex as a whole, and as her researches 
 had led her to the (possibly erroneous) conclusion 
 that we are more prejudiced and more obstinate 
 than women, she said nothing further on Archdale's 
 behalf. In truth, she did not greatly care whether 
 the two beings whom she loved best on earth liked 
 one another or not. It seemed improbable that 
 they would ever be brought into close contact, and, 
 as has already been said, she was not anxious that 
 they should be. 
 
 During the remainder of Willie's holidays she 
 saw very little of Archdale. She did not seek 
 occasions of meeting him, nor was she able to re- 
 spond to certain imploring invitations from him 
 which reached her through the post. Nevertheless 
 she missed him ; and it was with surprise and 
 contrition that she found herself actually looking 
 forward to the day when her boy should once more 
 be taken away from her. This, more than any- 
 thing else, brought home a sense of guilt and
 
 WILLIE DISAPFROVES. 239 
 
 shame to her. It is not difficult to believe what 
 all women situated as she was wish to believe, that 
 love, which is in itself so beautiful and innocent an 
 emotion, cannot be wrong and cannot be quenched ; 
 but as soon as the consequences of a love which it is 
 impossible to avow become apparent, self-deception 
 becomes less easy. If Marcia was conscious of 
 some relief when Willie departed for the station in 
 his hansom, this was perhaps less by reason of a 
 half-acknowledged longing for freedom than because 
 she felt that, come what might, she could never 
 bear to be despised by her son. And he was so 
 clever and observant that possibly he would have 
 found her out and desj)ised her if he had stayed 
 longer. 
 
 Her husband looked at her curiously after dinner 
 that night and inquired whether she was feel- 
 ing ill. 
 
 '' Xo," answered Marcia, a sudden flush coming 
 into her cheeks. " Why do you ask ? " 
 
 *'You have an appearance of feverishness and 
 your appetite seems to have deserted you, that 
 is all." 
 
 *' Of course I am not in the best of s^Dirits now 
 that Willie has gone," answered Marcia irritably. 
 
 ''Oh, is that it?" said Mr. Brett, in his 
 customary cold tone ; "I didn't know."
 
 240 MAR CIA. 
 
 She suspected him of making an insinuation to 
 which she could not reply, and she hated him for 
 it* In assigning an ignoble part to her husband — 
 which she was able to do without much insincerity 
 — she found some justification for herself.
 
 ( 241 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XYI. 
 
 MR. BRETT GIVES IX. 
 
 Marcia was quite mistakec in supposing that her 
 husband suspected her of contriving clandestine 
 meetings with Archdale. He suspected nothing, 
 being resolved to suspect nothing, and, a-s far as 
 was possible, he had dismissed the obnoxious artist 
 from his thoughts. To dismiss all that she had 
 said to him from his thoughts was not possible, 
 and the recollection of it gave him many hours of 
 pain ; but just as nine-tenths of us contrive to close 
 our eyes to the certainty of death or the probability 
 that we have in us the germs of some mortal disease, 
 so he refused to contemplate a contingency which 
 he nevertheless secretly dreaded. She did not love 
 him, and she might love somebody else. The 
 thing was conceivable ; but he had not — or so he 
 assured himself — any fair grounds for believing it to 
 be a fact. Therefore he went on in the monotonous 
 routine of his daily life, asking no questions, and 
 perhaps thanking Hea.ven that Caroline was not in 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 242 MAR CIA. 
 
 London to supply him with answers to the queries 
 which he so carefully left unuttered. 
 
 But such a state of things never lasts, and never 
 can last long. When Mr. Brett was plodding 
 homewards one evening, feeling weary and out of 
 spirits, as he generally did in those days, he over- 
 took a sauntering couple whom he could not help 
 recognizing. As he stepped off the pavement to 
 pass them the light of a gas lamp fell full upon 
 the features of Archdale; so that there was 
 nothing for it but to stop and say, " How do you 
 do?" Archdale seemed to be rather taken aback 
 and confused. He explained, with somewhat 
 unnecessary eagerness, that he had met Mrs. 
 Brett in Oxford Street and had felt bound to insist 
 upon seeing her home. Darkness came on so 
 early now, and it was really not safe for a lady to 
 be walking about alone in the less frequented parts 
 of the town. 
 
 "We are very much indebted to you," Mr. Brett 
 replied formally; *'but we will not take you any 
 farther out of your way now. I am glad I caught 
 you up in time to spare you an excursion into the 
 unfrequented district which we inhabit." 
 
 The remoteness of Cornwall Terrace, which was 
 one of Marcia's constant subjects of complaints, 
 was rather a sore point with him.
 
 MB. BRETT GIVES IN. 2-i3 
 
 Archdale, who could scarcely do otherwise, 
 accepted his dismissal, and after he had left them 
 the husband and wife walked on, side by side, in 
 silence. It was only when they reached their 
 own door that Mr. Brett asked coldly, "Has this 
 occurred before? " 
 
 '' Has what occurred before ? I don't know 
 what you mean," returned Marcia. 
 
 ''I merely wished to inquire whether you are in 
 the habit of meeting, in the streets or elsewhere, 
 a man whom I have been compelled to forbid your 
 receiving." 
 
 " I have met him in the street, and I have met 
 him at different people's houses, and I have no 
 doubt that I shall meet him again," answered 
 Marcia, in a tone of defiance. "When I asked 
 you whether you wished me to cut him, I under- 
 stood you to say that you did not. You have 
 changed your mind perhaps ? " 
 
 "Surely," said Mr. Brett, "it is possible to 
 steer a middle course. Cutting an acquaintance is 
 disagreeable ; but I cannot think that it would be 
 difficult to make him understand that his intimacy 
 was not desired. That is, supposing him to 
 possess in any degree the feelings of a gentleman." 
 
 " I presume that I do not possess in any degree 
 the feelings of a lady," observed Marcia; "for I
 
 244 MAR CIA. 
 
 certainly do not see my way to treating my friends 
 as you order me to treat them. Why don't you 
 lock me up in my bedroom ? There would, at 
 least, be some sense in that, since you don't seem 
 to believe that I can conduct myself with ordinary 
 decency when I am out of your sight ; but there is 
 no sense at all in allowing me a short tether and 
 scolding me when I stretch it as far as it will go." 
 
 They had now entered Mr. Brett's study. He 
 threw himself down in the chair which stood 
 beside his writing-table and clasped his hands 
 with a nervous gesture of despair. " Marcia ! " he 
 exclaimed, '* this is becoming intolerable ! " 
 
 *' Yes," she returned; "it is intolerable. I told 
 you so before, and I am glad that you acknowledge 
 it. You are not quite in the wrong, nor am I; 
 but we are neither of us quite in the right, and 
 we never can be. It is a case of what people call 
 * faults on both sides,' I suppose, only there are 
 some faults that can be forgiven and others that 
 can't. You can't forgive mine and I can't forgive 
 yours ; so we had better part before we come to 
 blows." 
 
 She ended with an unsteady sort of laugh which 
 puzzled him. '' I don't know how to answer you," 
 he said, shaking his head. " I have tried to con- 
 sider this question dispassionately ; I am honestly
 
 MB. BRETT GIVES IX. 245 
 
 anxious that your life should be as happy as 
 circumstances will permit " 
 
 *'My dear Eustace," interrupted Marcia, ''you 
 are honestly anxious to be rid of me, and I am 
 honestly anxious to be rid of you. Why should we 
 not speak the truth ? " 
 
 " So far as I am concerned, that is not the 
 truth," he answered — and his voice betrayed that 
 her words had hurt him. "It is not true that I 
 am anxious to be rid of you ; only I so far agree 
 with you that I think it would be better for us to 
 live apart than to wrangle. Anything is better 
 than wrangling." 
 
 **Yes; anything is better than that. I have 
 been thinking it over too, and I see how impossible 
 it is for us to continue living together. After all, 
 it is not you who will suffer by the separation ; in 
 such cases the woman is always blamed." 
 
 " Exactly so ; and that is just what makes me 
 hesitate to comply with your request." 
 
 " You need not feel any scruples on my behalf. 
 I know quite well that many people will decKne to 
 receive me when I have set up an establishment of 
 my own — and I don't care. All I ask for is that 
 Willie shall be allowed to spend half of his 
 holidays with me; you won't have the heart to 
 refuse me that, I suppose."
 
 246 MAliCIA. 
 
 Mr. Brett made an undecided gesture. **As 
 matters stand at present, that sounds a reasonable 
 stipulation," said he. ''Nevertheless, I am com- 
 pelled to tell you that circumstances might arise 
 which would render it inadmissible. While you 
 remain with me I have some control over your 
 actions; I can say to you — and, as you know, I 
 have had to say — that this or that person must 
 not enter my house ; but if you had an establish- 
 ment of your own, that power of mine would 
 necessarily cease, and " 
 
 He came to such a long pause that Marcia spoke 
 again before he could finish his sentence. ''Are 
 you afraid that Willie will be contaminated by 
 meeting Mr. Archdale ? " she asked. " Well, I can 
 assure you of this, Eustace — and perhaps, as I 
 have never told you a lie, you will believe me — I 
 would a thousand times rather be parted for ever 
 from Mr. Archdale, much as I like him, than be 
 parted from Willie. I would a thousand times 
 rather stay where I am than be parted from 
 Willie; and anything stronger than that I could 
 not say ! " 
 
 " Then why should we be separated, Marcia ? " 
 
 "You yourself have answered that question. 
 Because the life that we lead is more than flesh 
 and blood can endure ; because we haven't a
 
 MR. BRETT GIVES IX. 217 
 
 thought or a wish or a taste in common ; because 
 everything that I do exasperates you, and every- 
 thing that you do exasperates me. I have tried 
 to be forbearing, and I dare say you have tried 
 too ; but all these efforts have been in vain, and 
 we should have acknowledged it long ago if we 
 hadn't both of us been rather more afraid of Mrs. 
 Grundy than we ought to have been. Now we 
 have reached a point at which we can't help 
 acknowledging it." 
 
 Mr. Brett sighed, changed his position and 
 cleared his voice. (" Oh," thought Marcia, '' if I 
 gained nothing else by leaving him, what a blessing 
 it would be to know that I should never hear him 
 clear his voice at me again ! '") Presently he said : 
 "You may be aware that neither you nor I could 
 obtain a legal separation. By private arrangement 
 we might agree to live apart, and, as your money 
 is your own, it would be comparatively easy for us 
 to do so ; but there are obstacles in the way of our 
 taking that step which, to say the least of them, 
 require consideration. I should be obliged, for 
 instance, to give some sort of explanation to my 
 famHy." 
 
 "In other words, you would like to consult 
 George and Caroline. By all means consult them, 
 then. You can tell them that I alone am to
 
 248 MARCIA. 
 
 blame ; but it will not be necessary for you to tell 
 them that, because they will be quite convinced 
 of it in advance. They will pretend to be shocked ; 
 but in reality they will be delighted to think that 
 I have ruined myself socially, and that I shall be 
 seen no more in the great houses to which they 
 can't get invitations. You need not fear any 
 serious opposition from them." 
 
 Mr. Brett winced. He could not deny that he 
 was desirous of consulting his brother, nor could 
 be help admitting that there was a certain degree 
 of justification for Marcia's sarcasms. Finally he 
 said: "We wdll speak of this again the day after 
 to-morrow, if you please. I believe I understand 
 what your wishes are, and if I find that I can 
 conscientiously gratify them, I will do so." 
 
 That a man who was thoroughly straightforward 
 and honest, should have appeared to her to be a 
 canting hypocrite was not astonishing. Straight- 
 forward and honest men are not always happy in 
 the phraseology which they see fit to adopt, and it 
 is unlikely that Marcia's verdict upon her husband 
 would have been modified if she could have over- 
 heard a conversation which took place in the City 
 on the following day between him and Sir George 
 Brett. The younger brother stated his case as 
 impartially as it could be stated, and the elder
 
 MR. BRETT GIVES IX. 219 
 
 listened to him with a lenient, but slightly con- 
 temptuous smile. 
 
 "I don't want to be rude, Eustace," was Sir 
 George's comment upon what had been related 
 to him; ''but the long and the short of all this 
 is that you can't make your wife obey you. Now, 
 I'm not going to give you a word of advice one 
 way or the other. I don't choose to take a responsi- 
 bility which doesn't properly belong to me ; but if 
 you ask me what I think, I don't mind telling you 
 that in my opinion you have made an ass of your- 
 self. It is very evident that your wife will get her 
 own way — Caroline, I may tell you, foresaw long 
 ago what the end of it would be — and I only hope 
 that nothing more scandalous than an amicable 
 separation will come of it. In the event of a 
 separation being decided upon — which, mind you, 
 I don't for one moment recommend — I should say 
 that you had better allow the boy to see his mother 
 from time to time. Still, if I were in your place, 
 I should reserve to myself a contingent right of 
 withdrawing him from her altogether." 
 
 *' Contingent upon what?" inquired Eustace, 
 who did not quite like his brother's tone, and had 
 not expected to meet with such ready acquiescence 
 in that quarter. 
 
 Sir George drew down the corners of his mouth,
 
 250 MARC I A. 
 
 raised his eyebrows, and jerked up his shoulders. 
 *' Upon her good behaviour, of course. Far be 
 it from me to insinuate that there is a chance of 
 her behaving badly, but in making arrangements 
 of this kind it is always well to guard one's self 
 against painful possibilities." 
 
 The younger brother went away sad and dis- 
 heartened, nor were his spirits much raised by 
 a very sympathetic letter from Caroline which 
 reached him the next morning. Caroline took up 
 something the same line as her husband had done. 
 She could not advocate the severing of a tie so 
 sacred as that of holy matrimony ; yet she was 
 bound to confess that if such a proceeding could 
 be allowable in any case, it would be in this. For 
 a long time she had seen with deep sorrow that 
 Eustace's health was being undermined by the 
 daily worries which he was called upon to endure, 
 and that he should by some means or other be 
 delivered from these was her earnest desire. She 
 could only pray that he might be guided to do 
 what was just and right, etc., etc. 
 
 *' Evidently," thought Mr, Brett, *'she thinks 
 as George does, only she is too merciful to say so. 
 A man who cannot make his wife obey him is like 
 a man who cannot control his horse ; the best 
 thing he can do is to get out of his saddle."
 
 MR. BRETT GIVES IX. 251 
 
 The same afternoon he signified his renunciation 
 to Marcia. *'l may have failed in my duty to 
 you," he said, ''I can't feel certain about that; 
 but what seems to me beyond question is that I 
 have failed to make you happy and contented. 
 There is no hope of my being more successful in 
 the future than I have been in the past, so that, 
 after full and careful consideration, I believe I 
 shall be right in acceeding to your wish that we 
 should part. Your wish remains unchanged, I 
 presume ? " 
 
 He had a faint hope that she might have thought 
 better of it, but of this he was at once deprived. 
 Marcia paid little attention to the matters of detail, 
 pecuniary and other, which he submitted to her 
 with punctilious exactitude ; her only anxiety was 
 with reference to Willie, and as soon as she heard 
 that no objection would be raised to the boy's 
 spending at least half of his spare time with her, 
 she declared herself abundantly satisfied. 
 
 *' It would be absurd to say that we shall part 
 friends, Eustace," she remarked; ''but at least 
 we shall not be enemies now, and I should think 
 that will be a relief to you as well as to me. You 
 will be able to live yom- own life, and perhaps I 
 shall be able, after a fashion, to live mine." 
 
 Mr. Brett made an inarticulate murmur which
 
 252 MABCIA. 
 
 might be taken to imply assent. Marcia, he was 
 thinking, had some reasonable prospect of a life 
 as happy as that of the majority of human beings ; 
 but, for his own part, he could look forward to 
 nothing but work and solitude, and eventually 
 death. And he could not help realizing how 
 greatly matters would be simplified, and how 
 resigned to the will of Heaven everybody w^ould 
 be, if he were to drop down dead there and then. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 LONDOK : PRINTED BT -WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, 
 STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS.
 
 -&