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the patrician-第12节

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inscribed 'The New Tory。  Lord H…rb…ng…r brings Social Reform beneath
the notice of his friends;' which depicted him introducing a naked
baby to a number of coroneted old ladies。  Thence to a dancer。
Thence to the Bill for Universal Assurance。  Then back to the war
scare; to the last book of a great French writer; and once more to
Winlow's flight。  It was all straightforward and outspoken; each
seeming to say exactly what came into the head。  For all that; there
was a curious avoidance of the spiritual significances of these
things; or was it perhaps that such significances were not seen?

Lord Dennis; at the far end of the room; studying a portfolio of
engravings; felt a touch on his cheek; and conscious of a certain
fragrance; said without turning his head:

〃Nice things; these; Babs!〃

Receiving no answer he looked up。

There indeed stood Barbara。

〃I do hate sneering behind people's backs!〃

There had always been good comradeship between these two; since the
days when Barbara; a golden…haired child; astride of a grey pony; had
been his morning companion in the Row all through the season。  His
riding days were past; he had now no outdoor pursuit save fishing;
which he followed with the ironic persistence of a self…contained;
high…spirited nature; which refuses to admit that the mysterious
finger of old age is laid across it。  But though she was no longer
his companion; he still had a habit of expecting her confidences; and
he looked after her; moving away from him to a window; with surprised
concern。

It was one of those nights; dark yet gleaming; when there seems a
flying malice in the heavens; when the stars; from under and above
the black clouds; are like eyes frowning and flashing down at men
with purposed malevolence。  The great sighing trees even had caught
this spirit; save one; a dark; spire…like cypress; planted three
hundred and fifty years before; whose tall form incarnated the very
spirit of tradition; and neither swayed nor soughed like the others。
》From her; too close…fibred; too resisting; to admit the breath of
Nature; only a dry rustle came。  Still almost exotic; in spite of her
centuries of sojourn; and now brought to life by the eyes of night;
she seemed almost terrifying; in her narrow; spear…like austerity; as
though something had dried and died within her soul。  Barbara came
back from the window。

〃We can't do anything in our lives; it seems to me;〃 she said; 〃but
play at taking risks!〃

Lord Dennis replied dryly:

〃I don't think I understand; my dear。〃

〃Look at Mr。 Courtier!〃 muttered Barbara。  〃His life's so much more
risky altogether than any of our men folk lead。  And yet they sneer
at him。〃

〃Let's see; what has he done?〃

〃Oh!  I dare say not very much; but it's all neck or nothing。  But
what does anything matter to Harbinger; for instance?  If his Social
Reform comes to nothing; he'll still be Harbinger; with fifty
thousand a year。〃

Lord Dennis looked up a little queerly。

〃What!  Is it possible you don't take the young man seriously; Babs?〃

Barbara shrugged; a strap slipped a little off one white shoulder。

〃It's all play really; and he knows ityou can tell that from his
voice。  He can't help its not mattering; of course; and he knows that
too。〃

〃I have heard that he's after you; Babs; is that true?〃

〃He hasn't caught me yet。〃

〃Will he?〃

Barbara's answer was another shrug; and; for all their statuesque
beauty; the movement of her shoulders was like the shrug of a little
girl in her pinafore。

〃And this Mr。 Courtier;〃 said Lord Dennis dryly: 〃Are you after him?〃

〃I'm after everything; didn't you know that; dear?〃

〃In reason; my child。〃

〃In reason; of courselike poor Eusty!〃  She stopped。  Harbinger
himself was standing there close by; with an air as nearly
approaching reverence as was ever to be seen on him。  In truth; the
way in which he was looking at her was almost timorous。

〃Will you sing that song I like so much; Lady Babs?〃

They moved away together; and Lord Dennis; gazing after that
magnificent young couple; stroked his beard gravely。




CHAPTER X

Miltoun's sudden journey to London had been undertaken in pursuance
of a resolve slowly forming from the moment he met Mrs。 Noel in the
stone flagged passage of Burracombe Farm。  If she would have him and
since last evening he believed she wouldhe intended to marry her。

It has been said that except for one lapse his life had been austere;
but this is not to assert that he had no capacity for passion。  The
contrary was the case。  That flame which had been so jealously
guarded smouldered deep within hima smothered fire with but little
air to feed on。  The moment his spirit was touched by the spirit of
this woman; it had flared up。  She was the incarnation of all that he
desired。  Her hair; her eyes; her form; the tiny tuck or dimple at
the corner of her mouth just where a child places its finger; her way
of moving; a sort of unconscious swaying or yielding to the air; the
tone in her voice; which seemed to come not so much from happiness of
her own as from an innate wish to make others happy; and that
natural; if not robust; intelligence; which belongs to the very
sympathetic; and is rarely found in women of great ambitions or
enthusiasmsall these things had twined themselves round his heart。
He not only dreamed of her; and wanted her; he believed in her。  She
filled his thoughts as one who could never do wrong; as one who;
though a wife would remain a mistress; and though a mistress; would
always be the companion of his spirit。

It has been said that no one spoke or gossiped about women in
Miltoun's presence; and the tale of her divorce was present to his
mind simply in the form of a conviction that she was an injured
woman。  After his interview with the vicar; he had only once again
alluded to it; and that in answer to the speech of a lady staying at
the Court: 〃Oh! yes; I remember her case perfectly。  She was the poor
woman who〃  〃Did not; I am certain; Lady Bonington。〃   The tone
of his voice had made someone laugh uneasily; the subject was
changed。

All divorce was against his convictions; but in a blurred way he
admitted that there were cases where release was unavoidable。  He was
not a man to ask for confidences; or expect them to be given him。  He
himself had never confided his spiritual struggles to any living
creature; and the unspiritual struggle had little interest for
Miltoun。  He was ready at any moment to stake his life on the
perfection of the idol he had set up within his soul; as simply and
straightforwardly as he would have placed his body in front of her to
shield her from harm。

The same fanaticism; which looked on his passion as a flower by
itself; entirely apart from its suitability to the social garden; was
also the driving force which sent him up to London to declare his
intention to his father before he spoke to Mrs。 Noel。  The thing
should be done simply; and in right order。  For he had the kind of
moral courage found in those who live retired within the shell of
their own aspirations。  Yet it was not perhaps so much active moral
courage as indifference to what others thought or did; coming from
his inbred resistance to the appreciation of what they felt。

That peculiar smile of the old Tudor Cardinalwhich had in it
invincible self…reliance; and a sort of spiritual sneerplayed over
his face when he speculated on his father's reception of the coming
news; and very soon he ceased to think of it at all; burying himself
in the work he had brought with him for the journey。  For he had in
high degree the faculty; so essential to public life; of switching
off his whole attention from one subject to another。

On arriving at Paddington he drove straight to Valleys House。

This large dwelling with its pillared portico; seemed to wear an air
of faint surprise that; at the height of the season; it was not more
inhabited。  Three servants relieved Miltoun of his little luggage;
and having washed; and learned that his father would be dining in; he
went for a walk; taking his way towards his rooms in the Temple。  His
long figure; somewhat carelessly garbed; attracted the usual
attention; of which he was as usual unaware。  Strolling along; he
meditated deeply on a London; an England; different from this
flatulent hurly…burly; this 'omniuin gatherum'; this great discordant
symphony of sharps and flats。  A London; an England; kempt and self…
respecting; swept and garnished of slums; and plutocrats;
advertisement; and jerry…building; of sensationalism; vulgarity;
vice; and unemployment。  An England where each man should know his
place; and never change it; but serve in it loyally in his own caste。
Where every man; from nobleman to labourer; should be an oligarch by
faith; and a gentleman by practice。  An England so steel…bright and
efficient that the very sight should suffice to impose peace。  An
England whose soul should be stoical and fine with the stoicism and
fineness of each soul amongst her many million souls; where the town
should have its creed and the country its creed; and there should be
contentment and no complaining in her streets。

And

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