.“
Good-bye
,
”
we
said
to
our
Bandbox
,
and
wished
it
a
happy
future
.
“
I
hope
the
next
people
who
live
in
you
will
be
kind
to
you
,
”
said
Chloe
,
“
and
keep
you
clean
,
and
be
very
happy
in
you
,
poor
,
dear
little
house
.
”
We
rode
away
,
turning
at
the
corner
for
one
more
last
look
at
our
Bandbox
.
Its
bare
windows
blinked
forlornly
at
us
in
the
June
sunlight
like
the
eyes
of
a
deserted
orphan
.
We
rode
on
in
silence
.
We
passed
our
furniture
about
half
a
mile
from
the
Bandbox
.
And
we
had
been
keeping
our
tempers
for
more
than
two
hours
in
the
spacious
emptiness
of
the
Red
House
before
the
rattle
of
harness
and
the
scent
of
Charley
's
coat
announced
the
arrival
of
the
van
.
Charley
and
his
minions
made
a
hollow
pretence
of
putting
the
furniture
in
its
place
.
They
did
put
the
bedsteads
together
,
insecurely
,
and
in
the
wrong
rooms
;
and
they
set
up
“
chesties
of
drawerses
”
against
walls
.
The
oak
chests
they
carried
to
the
attic
,
and
the
best
steel
fire-irons
were
discovered
,
weeks
later
,
in
the
cellar
.
But
almost
everything
—
saucepans
,
crockery
,
coal-scuttles
,
books
,
hearth-rugs
,
stair-rods
,
fenders
—
was
dumped
on
the
floors
of
the
hall
,
the
kitchen
,
and
the
dining-room
.
I
remember
that
I
had
to
move
half
a
ton
of
mixed
valuables
to
find
the
tea-kettle
,
when
,
after
two
hours
of
breathless
energy
,
we
heard
the
van
's
retreating
wheels
,
and
were
moved
towards
the
kitchen
by
one
common
longing
—
for
tea
.
Chloe
got
the
tea
,
and
I
cleared
it
away
.
Harriet
reluctantly
consented
to
wash
up
the
tea-things
.
“
But
,
”
she
added
,
and
it
really
was
like
a
blow
in
the
wind
,
“
I
must
get
away
before
dark
.
No
,
it
ai
n't
no
manner
of
use
talking
.
There
's
ghosts
in
this
'
ouse
,
and
I
would
n't
sleep
under
this
'
ere
roof
,
not
for
any
wages
you
could
offer
.
”
In
vain
we
besought
her
to
reconsider
this
decision
.
“
Mother
always
said
to
me
,
‘Do
n't
you
never
lay
your
'
ead
on
your
pillow
in
a
'
ouse
where
there
's
ghosts
,
or
you
'll
see
'
em
walk
—
safe
as
eggs
.
It
runs
in
our
family
,
’
says
she
;
‘my
mother
's
second
cousin
see
a
calf
without
a
'
ead
walkin
'
on
the
church-yard
wall
,
as
plain
as
the
nose
on
your
face
,
’
says
she
.
And
I
ca
n't
go
agin
my
own
mother
,
so
if
it
's
convenient
to
you
,
sir
,
I
'll
leave
as
soon
as
I
've
dried
the
tea-things
.
”
“
If
it
's
convenient
!
”
said
Chloe
.
And
then
we
both
began
to
laugh
.
That
saved
the
situation
,
besides
making
Harriet
uncomfortable
.
We
let
her
go
,
because
we
could
not
help
it
,
and
we
set
out
our
supper
—
it
was
tinned
salmon
and
bread
—
on
a
sheet
of
newspaper
,
because
we
could
n't
find
any
table-cloths
.
And
we
washed
our
hands
with
mottled
soap
,
because
the
brown
Windsor
soap
had
hidden
itself
away
somewhere
.
And
we
dried
them
on
Chloe
's
apron
,
because
the
towels
were
mislaid
.
And
we
made
some
cocoa
,
because
the
ginger-ale
could
not
,
at
the
moment
,
be
found
.
It
never
was
found
,
by-the-way
.
The
search
for
lamps
being
fruitless
,
we
walked
together
to
the
village
in
the
cool
,
pale
evening
,
and
,
returning
with
a
pound
of
candles
in
a
blue
paper
,
it
seemed
natural
to
wander
round
the
shadowy
gardens
,
slowly
wrapping
themselves
in
the
blue
veil
of
the
summer
night
.
The
stars
came
out
,
one
by
one
,
and
a
little
moon
that
had
been
like
a
cloudy
ghost
through
the
gold
of
the
afternoon
seemed
to
wash
her
face
with
liquid
light
,
and
set
to
work
shining
in
bright
earnest
.
The
house
seemed
very
chill
,
very
dark
,
very
silent
,
as
we
let
ourselves
in
.
The
most
energetic
search
and
half
a
box
of
wax
vestas
failed
to
find
us
a
single
candlestick
.
How
we
regretted
,
then
,
the
empty
bottles
left
behind
at
the
Bandbox
!
At
last
we
set
up
our
candles
by
melting
the
ends
and
sticking
them
in
tea-saucers
.
Then
I
broke
up
a
packing-case
and
made
a
fire
in
our
room
.
By
a
fortunate
accident
,
Chloe
,
looking
for
her
brush
and
comb
,
found
the
blankets
.
We
went
round
the
house
and
closed
all
the
shutters
.
“
Now
,
”
said
Chloe
,
cheerfully
,
“
we
really
are
at
home
.
”
I
looked
round
on
the
unspeakable
confusion
—
the
whole
Bandboxful
of
our
effects
emptied
out
,
as
it
were
,
“
tumbled
out
of
a
sack
”
upon
the
floor
,
and
I
said
,
“
Yes
.
”
The
birds
woke
us
in
the
morning
;
such
an
orchestra
as
I
had
never
even
imagined
.
Sleep
seemed
fled
forever
.
It
was
I
who
went
down
to
light
the
fire
for
breakfast
.
It
was
good
to
fling
back
the
shutters
and
window-sashes
,
and
to
lean
out
through
the
drifted
net
of
green
jasmine
leaves
and
taste
the
fresh
sweets
of
the
morning
.
Presently
Chloe
came
and
leaned
beside
me
.
The
whole
world
seemed
blue
and
green
and
gold
;
the
trees
and
the
grass
sparkling
in
the
dewy
sunshine
,
and
on
the
bright
turf
the
long
,
black
,
tree
shadows
.
“
I
never
saw
shadows
like
these
,
”
Chloe
breathed
;
“
they
're
quite
different
to
the
evening
ones
.
And
there
's
no
one
next
door
!
Oh
,
it
is
very
good
!
”
The
birds
sang
,
the
sun
shone
softly
,
the
swan
in
the
moat
spread
wide
wings
,
preening
his
white
feathers
.
A
purple
haze
covered
the
hills
.
It
was
indeed
“
very
good
.
”
The
wood
began
to
crackle
.
I
looked
at
my
watch
.
Five
o'clock
.
“
We
must
always
get
up
at
half-past
four
,
”
Chloe
said
.
“
I
had
no
idea
anything
could
be
so
beautiful
.
Think
of
the
poor
silly
people
who
only
get
up
at
eight
.
”
I
thought
of
them
,
and
I
knew
that
very
soon
we
should
once
more
be
numbered
among
that
pitiable
band
.
But
I
said
nothing
.
We
cleared
away
the
breakfast
and
made
our
room
tidy
,
and
every
now
and
then
she
would
stop
to
clap
her
hands
—
once
there
were
two
flat-irons
and
a
duster
in
them
—
and
to
say
:
“
Oh
,
is
n't
it
perfect
?
Is
n't
it
amusing
and
interesting
and
thrilling
,
and
everything
anything
can
possibly
be
?
”
We
arranged
a
scheme
of
disentanglement
,
and
applied
it
to
our
goods
.
Chloe
dived
into
the
mass
and
came
up
with
treasures
,
which
under
her
directions
I
bore
to
the
situations
she
indicated
.
But
many
things
seemed
homeless
,
and
the
command
,
“
Oh
,
I
do
n't
know
—
anywhere
—
on
the
kitchen-table
,
”
grew
so
frequent
that
the
kitchen-table
groaned
beneath
its
load
,
and
even
the
tall
dressers
showed
signs
of
repletion
.
But
we
got
one
room
clear
—
the
white
parlor
,
Chloe
called
it
.
It
was
really
half
panelled
in
oak
—
painted
,
of
course
,
by
some
vandal
middle-Victorian
hand
—
but
still
charming
,
with
its
carved
garlands
and
flourishes
,
its
high
mantelpiece
and
odd
corners
.
We
swept
it
;
we
put
down
our
best
carpet
and
hearth-rug
;
we
brought
in
our
oak
gate-table
and
our
polished
beechwood
chairs
with
the
rush
seats
,
and
the
corner
cupboard
,
and
the
little
bow-legged
oak
sideboard
;
we
put
some
green
Flemish
pots
on
the
mantel-piece
.
Chloe
ran
out
and
came
back
with
half
a
dozen
late
tulips
,
and
when
she
had
set
them
on
the
table
in
a
jar
of
Chinese
willow-pattern
(
hand-work
,
none
of
your
transfers
)
,
why
,
then
we
had
a
“
room
ready
,
”
a
refuge
,
as
Chloe
said
.
We
also
carted
the
remaining
chaos
into
the
kitchen
.
“
Because
I
give
that
up
,
”
she
said
;
“
we
ca
n't
get
that
clear
for
ages
.
”
So
pictures
and
curtains
,
and
all
the
things
that
take
time
to
their
fixing
,
were
carried
away
.
And
the
swept
hall
looked
large
and
beautiful
,
especially
when
we
had
cleaned
the
red
and
white
of
the
marble
inlaid
floor
with
a
wet
broom
and
a
pail
of
water
.
As
I
rubbed
the
broom
vigorously
over
a
discolored
square
of
the
marble
,
I
was
suddenly
conscious
of
a
guilty
feeling
.
Analyzed
,
the
sensation
frightened
me
.
I
was
becoming
interested
in
these
details
.
And
I
had
not
once
thought
about
my
work
,
though
to-morrow
was
the
day
for
my
article
in
the
Weekly
Wilderness
.
It
had
never
even
entered
my
head
to
dream
that
I
could
ever
be
interested
in
cleaning
a
floor
.
Yet
here
I
was
calling
joyously
to
Chloe
,
deep
in
a
packing-case
in
the
kitchen
:
“
It
's
coming
the
same
color
as
the
other
.
”
“
It
wo
n't
be
when
it
's
dry
,
”
she
said
,
“
but
I
've
found
the
corkscrew
and
the
lamps
.
One
of
them
is
wrong
way
up
and
full
of
paraffine
.
At
least
it
was
.
It
's
anywhere
you
like
now
.
”
I
carried
my
pail
and
broom
into
the
kitchen
.
“
My
dear
,
”
I
said
,
“
have
you
found
my
shaving-brush
?
”
“
Why
?
”
she
asked
.
“
Do
you
want
to
put
it
down
on
the
parlor
mantel-piece
?
”
The
very
thought
appalled
me
,
and
the
fact
that
it
did
so
appalled
me
still
more
deeply
.
I
pointed
out
that
a
shaving-brush
is
useful
for
other
purposes
than
for
putting
down
on
things
,
and
presently
we
found
it
involved
in
a
pair
of
lace
curtains
.
We
had
lunch
in
the
garden
.
And
then
Yolande
's
furniture
suddenly
loomed
at
our
gates
.
We
had
wholly
forgotten
it
.
The
white
parlor
had
to
be
reorganized
to
accommodate
her
oak
settle
.
The
piano
we
boldly
ordered
into
the
drawing-room
,
where
it
lived
out
long
days
of
lonely
grandeur
.
Her
furniture
was
really
charming
—
Chippendale
chairs
and
a
Sheraton
bureau
,
pictures
by
the
dozen
and
lovely
crocks
by
the
score
.
The
men
who
moved
her
things
had
linen
jackets
,
and
they
were
not
scented
like
Charley
.
They
actually
put
things
where
we
wanted
them
.
We
stood
by
in
humble
amazement
.
But
when
they
asked
where
they
should
hang
the
pictures
,
we
looked
at
each
other
,
almost
speechless
with
wonder
and
gratitude
.
They
hung
the
pictures
,
they
asked
for
a
broom
,
and
,
if
ours
had
not
been
wet
,
they
would
have
swept
up
the
dust
their
careful
feet
had
not
been
able
to
help
bringing
in
.
They
dusted
the
furniture
ture
,
and
asked
if
there
was
anything
else
they
could
do
.
I
said
there
was
not
,
and
felt
in
my
pocket
for
silver
,
far
more
than
I
could
afford
.
But
Chloe
said
:
“
Oh
yes
!
How
kind
of
you
!
Do
please
ask
every
one
you
know
if
they
know
of
a
servant
.
We
have
n't
one
,
and
you
see
—
”
They
saw
.
They
promised
all
things
;
they
took
my
silver
and
went
.
And
that
very
evening
a
trim
young
woman
came
“
about
the
situation
,
”
accepted
it
,
went
off
to
fetch
her
box
,
and
never
returned
.
Perhaps
she
saw
the
ghost
as
she
went
out
.
We
never
knew
.
Next
day
I
sat
down
with
my
type-writer
in
the
parlor
.
Chloe
went
to
London
to
ransack
the
registry-offices
,
so
that
there
was
no
one
to
do
house-work
.
Therefore
,
when
I
had
done
my
article
—
it
was
on
“
The
Pleasures
of
Home
,
”
I
remember
—
I
tidied
the
place
up
a
little
.
Happening
to
find
the
black-leading
apparatus
in
the
bread-pan
,
I
tried
my
hand
at
polishing
the
parlor-grate
.
It
is
much
less
easy
than
one
would
suppose
,
and
I
barked
my
knuckles
against
the
bars
.
Then
I
cleaned
some
windows
.
I
knew
,
from
Cranford
,
that
this
was
done
with
newspapers
.
The
middles
of
the
panes
were
easy
,
the
corners
inaccessible
and
irritating
.
Then
I
got
tea
ready
and
filled
the
lamps
.
I
experienced
all
the
sensations
of
an
explorer
in
an
unknown
and
ravishing
country
.
All
this
was
new
and
extraordinarily
fascinating
.
I
chopped
wood
and
filled
a
box
with
it
,
ready
for
the
morning
.
I
also
chopped
my
finger
,
and
decided
that
I
had
done
enough
house-work
for
the
moment
.
Then
I
remembered
my
article
.
I
had
forgotten
to
post
it
,
and
the
post
was
gone
when
I
got
to
the
village
.
I
had
to
walk
to
Blackheath
to
catch
the
late
mail
—
four
miles
there
and
back
.
When
I
got
home
Chloe
was
sitting
on
the
door-step
with
a
perfect
stranger
.
“
We
've
been
here
hours
,
”
she
said
.
“
How
could
you
go
off
like
that
?
This
is
Ellen
—
she
is
coming
to
live
with
us
.
”
I
could
see
in
Ellen
's
eye
that
she
was
not
so
sure
of
this
.
When
Ellen
saw
the
kitchen
,
with
its
indescribable
complications
of
domestic
matter
,
she
blenched
,
and
I
knew
the
worst
.
We
all
turned
to
,
however
,
and
tidied
the
kitchen
superfically
,
arranged
Ellen
's
bedroom
,
assisted
her
to
prepare
supper
,
went
to
bed
worn
out
,
and
came
down
in
the
morning
to
find
Ellen
gone
.
She
was
not
wholly
bad
;
she
had
some
kind
impulses
.
She
had
lighted
the
fire
and
put
on
the
kettle
before
leaving
.
But
we
were
a
little
late
that
morning
,
and
all
the
water
had
boiled
away
.
When
I
filled
the
kettle
at
the
tap
it
cracked
,
and
Chloe
said
it
was
always
the
way
,
and
snatched
the
kettle
out
of
my
hand
,
and
boiled
the
water
for
tea
in
a
saucepan
that
had
had
cabbage
in
it
.
So
,
after
breakfast
,
I
insisted
on
a
turn
in
the
quiet
,
sunny
garden
,
and
she
grew
calmer
.
“
It
is
awful
,
though
,
is
n't
it
?
”
she
said
.
“
Yes
,
”
I
owned
,
“
but
I
black-leaded
the
parlor-grate
yesterday
,
and
I
did
several
other
things
that
you
never
noticed
.
”
She
was
stricken
with
remorse
.
I
followed
up
my
advantage
.
“
And
now
I
'm
going
to
scold
us
,
pussy
.
It
was
entirely
my
fault
that
we
left
the
Bandbox
,
but
I
hope
you
'll
forgive
me
,
and
let
's
make
the
best
of
it
.
And
we
must
n't
take
things
too
seriously
.
What
does
it
all
matter
?
Through
life
,
my
precious
pussy-kitten
,
the
best
weapon
is
laughter
.
Let
us
agree
to
laugh
at
everything
,
unless
we
have
to
cry
at
it
,
and
if
we
do
cry
,
to
cry
—
like
this
.
”
For
she
was
crying
—
with
her
head
on
my
shoulder
and
my
arms
round
her
.
“
I
'm
so
tired
,
”
she
said
,
presently
.
“
I
know
you
are
.
Now
we
're
going
to
sit
down
on
this
dear
,
old
stone
bench
under
the
red
may-tree
,
and
,
if
you
're
good
,
I
'll
tell
you
things
.
We
wo
n't
try
to
get
a
servant
again
till
the
kitchen
's
straight
.
And
we
'll
shut
up
all
the
rooms
except
the
kitchen
,
and
we
'll
move
our
bedroom
things
into
one
of
the
down-stairs
rooms
,
so
as
not
to
have
to
use
the
stairs
at
all
.
And
the
little
room
that
opens
out
of
the
kitchen
we
'll
put
two
tables
in
,
and
do
our
work
there
—
for
we
must
work
,
you
know
.
And
we
'll
take
it
in
turns
to
do
the
house-work
,
and
the
other
shall
work
.
And
when
it
's
all
straight
we
'll
get
a
treasure
of
a
maid
,
and
all
live
happy
ever
after
!
Now
you
're
going
to
sit
here
quietly
,
and
I
'm
going
to
fetch
the
Inland
Voyage
,
and
read
aloud
to
you
for
an
hour
.
”
We
did
all
these
things
,
and
gradually
some
sort
of
order
evolved
itself
from
chaos
,
and
the
scent
of
Charley
's
coat
faded
slowly
away
.
Then
we
had
a
rapid
succession
of
unsuitable
servants
;
five
,
I
think
,
were
honest
,
the
sixth
went
off
with
all
Chloe
's
lace
petticoats
and
her
mink
cape
.
Then
we
got
a
woman
from
the
village
to
come
in
by
the
day
.
She
worked
fairly
well
,
but
she
carried
a
covered
basket
,
and
it
cost
us
too
much
in
tea
and
butter
.
All
this
time
we
had
never
had
a
moment
for
gardening
,
and
Chloe
's
dream
of
growing
our
own
vegetables
was
being
swiftly
hidden
by
the
weeds
of
oblivion
.
There
were
flowers
in
plenty
,
though
,
now
.
Hundreds
of
roses
,
red
and
white
and
yellow
.
Thousands
of
pink
roses
.
Canterbury-bells
,
red
daisy-flowers
,
lupins
,
columbines
,
and
giant
larkspurs
.
Chloe
kept
the
house
a
flowery
bower
.
I
cleaned
the
boots
and
the
knives
,
and
whistled
at
my
work
.
It
was
when
half
the
neck
of
mutton
got
into
that
covered
basket
and
,
ostrich-like
,
left
its
tail
sticking
out
,
that
I
told
Mrs.
Coombe
that
we
must
part
.
She
asked
for
no
explanation
;
I
gave
none
.
We
parted
without
unnecessary
words
.
That
day
it
began
to
rain
—
a
thunder-storm
first
,
then
slow
,
steady
,
pelting
rain
for
hours
and
hours
.
We
sat
over
the
kitchen
fire
that
evening
and
told
ghost
stories
till
I
saw
my
wife
beginning
to
cast
glances
over
her
shoulder
to
where
the
darker
shadows
lurked
in
the
corners
of
the
great
,
black-raftered
kitchen
.
Then
I
lit
twelve
candles
,
set
then
on
the
mantel-piece
,
and
made
port-wine
negus
,
and
we
drank
it
and
went
to
bed
.
In
the
pitch-dark
middle
of
the
night
,
Chloe
caught
me
by
the
arm
.
“
You
must
wake
up
,
”
she
said
,
in
a
terrified
whisper
;
“
there
's
some
one
in
the
house
—
or
—
or
something
.
I
've
been
awake
for
hours
.
Listen
!
Ca
n't
you
hear
it
?
”
I
listened
.
“
It
's
like
—
Oh
,
Len
,
I
am
so
frightened
It
's
a
sort
of
dripping
,
dripping
.
”
She
held
me
very
tight
with
both
hands
.
“
It
's
like
—
it
's
as
if
some
one
had
been
killed
and
there
was
blood
dripping
onto
the
floor
.
Oh
,
listen
,
and
do
strike
a
light
!
I
'm
afraid
to
put
my
arm
out
for
the
matches
.
It
is
like
blood
,
dripping
!
Listen
!
”
I
listened
.
And
it
was
.
III
THE
GHOST
I
HAD
held
my
breath
to
listen
to
the
drip
,
drip
—
loud
in
itself
and
hollow
in
its
echo
through
the
grisly
silence
of
the
middle
night
.
Now
I
let
my
breath
go
in
a
sigh
.
“
It
is
blood
,
dripping
,
”
said
Chloe
.
“
It
ca
n't
be
,
”
I
said
;
“
there
's
no
one
in
the
house
to
kill
any
one
else
—
and
no
one
to
be
killed
,
either
.
Do
n't
be
a
darling
idiot
.
”
“
Perhaps
it
's
some
one
who
was
killed
long
ago
!
”
Her
teeth
chattered
.
“
A
ghost
,
you
mean
?
”
I
said
,
cheerfully
.
“
Not
it
!
I
expect
some
tramp
's
got
in
and
upset
a
beer-bottle
.
Let
me
get
my
boots
and
the
poker
.
”
I
had
always
resolved
that
in
no
straits
would
I
ever
,
barefooted
,
face
a
burglar
.
Think
of
the
horrible
advantage
of
hobnailed
burglar-boots
over
shrinking
,
bare
toes
.
“
But
there
is
no
poker
up
here
,
”
Chloe
said
.
“
You
know
we
never
could
find
the
bedroom
fire-irons
.
My
umbrella
;
you
know
—
the
one
with
the
purple
knob
.
”
One
of
the
ugliest
of
our
wedding
presents
,
the
umbrella
with
the
rock-amethyst
handle
the
size
of
a
fives-ball
,
stood
in
the
wardrobe
corner
.
I
balanced
it
in
my
hand
.
“
I
think
it
would
crack
a
nut
,
if
need
were
,
”
said
I
—
“
even
the
most
hardened
nut
of
the
most
hardened
burglar
.
”
“
How
can
you
?
”
said
Chloe
.
She
was
creeping
into
her
dressing-gown
.
“
Now
,
then
—
I
'll
carry
the
light
.
”
“
You
're
not
coming
with
me
?
”
“
Do
you
think
I
'm
going
to
stay
here
alone
?
”
“
But
if
it
is
a
burglar
?
”
“
Exactly
—
”
“
You
mean
you
're
coming
to
take
care
of
me
?
”
“
Oh
,
do
n't
,
”
she
said
—
“
only
I
will
come
.
”
I
blew
out
the
candle
and
took
her
hand
.
“
If
we
are
to
surprise
any
enterprising
professional
,
we
sha'
n't
do
it
with
a
candle
,
”
said
I
.
“
Now
,
then
—
”
We
opened
the
door
slowly
and
softly
,
and
very
softly
and
slowly
crept
along
the
dark
passage
hand
in
hand
.
At
the
stair-foot
we
stood
still
and
listened
.
Not
a
sound
but
the
drip-drip-dripping
.
It
seemed
to
come
from
the
white
parlor
.
My
wife
clutched
my
hand
in
both
hers
.
“
I
ca
n't
,
”
she
whispered
,
and
struck
a
match
.
Her
hands
trembled
so
that
she
could
hardly
light
the
candle
.
I
took
it
from
her
.
“
You
'd
better
go
back
,
”
I
said
.
But
we
went
on
.
I
flung
open
the
door
of
the
white
parlor
,
while
Chloe
stood
with
her
back
to
the
wall
,
hiding
her
face
in
her
hands
.
I
took
two
steps
into
the
darkness
.
Then
I
laughed
aloud
and
put
down
the
candle
on
the
table
.
“
Len
,
what
is
it
?
Oh
—
what
is
it
?
”
“
It
's
all
right
,
dear
,
”
I
said
,
“
but
it
's
fortunate
I
brought
the
umbrella
.
”
I
put
it
up
as
I
spoke
,
and
,
catching
Chloe
's
hand
,
drew
her
under
it
.
The
drops
splashed
on
the
umbrella
heavily
from
the
ceiling
above
.
Chloe
and
I
looked
in
each
other
's
eyes
and
laughed
.
“
Oh
dear
,
how
silly
!
Why
,
it
's
only
the
water
coming
through
the
roof
!
”
“
Yes
—
only
!
”
said
I
.
The
floor
was
an
inch
deep
in
water
,
and
from
the
ceiling
it
was
falling
,
in
heavy
,
capricious
showers
,
on
furniture
,
books
,
cushions
,
curtains
.
“
You
're
not
frightened
now
?
”
I
asked
,
shutting
the
wet
umbrella
with
a
flap
.
“
No.
”
“
Then
we
'd
better
get
dressed
and
see
what
can
be
done
.
”
We
dressed
hastily
and
lit
the
candles
in
the
tall
,
old
brass
candlesticks
on
the
white-parlor
mantel-piece
.
It
took
us
some
little
time
to
find
places
,
where
these
could
stand
without
prompt
extinguishment
from
the
dripping
ceiling
.
Then
,
barefooted
both
,
with
my
trousers
tucked
up
,
and
Chloe
's
skirts
kilted
to
the
knee
,
we
did
our
best
with
pails
and
mops
and
house
flannels
.
We
carried
all
our
books
out
into
the
hall
,
and
stood
them
up
on
their
edges
,
with
their
leaves
open
,
to
dry
.
We
carried
out
our
furniture-the
settle
,
and
the
gate-table
,
and
the
rush-bottomed
beechwood
chairs
.
We
took
down
the
wet
curtains
and
hung
them
on
the
bacon-rack
in
the
kitchen
.
“
I
do
wish
we
kept
a
pig
,
”
said
Chloe
,
in
parenthesis
.
“
Fancy
sides
of
bacon
swinging
here
,
instead
of
wet
,
floppy
,
droppy
curtains
!
”
It
was
a
night
's
work
.
When
the
gray
of
the
dawn
showed
us
,
through
rain-wrinkled
window-panes
,
the
green
tangle
of
our
garden
,
all
beaten
down
to
one
dripping
desolation
,
with
a
gray
sky
above
,
and
over
all
the
rain
,
I
looked
at
my
wife
and
said
:
“
This
has
been
an
adventurous
night
.
It
is
a
ghastly
morning
.
Do
people
who
have
been
up
all
night
have
breakfast
?
Tea
,
for
instance
?
You
are
wet
as
any
mermaid
,
and
twice
as
pretty
.
But
water
's
not
your
native
element
.
You
must
be
dried
.
I
'll
light
a
fire
.
”
She
had
caught
at
the
rope
of
bright
hair
that
hung
below
her
waist
,
and
was
wringing
the
water
out
of
it
.
Her
bare
feet
were
pink
and
rosy
in
the
mixed
radiance
of
dawn
and
candlelight
.
Her
striped
red-and-white
skirts
gave
her
a
sort
of
coquettish
smartness
,
as
of
a
Parisienne
at
Trouville
.
She
held
out
her
hand
with
a
dramatic
gesture
.
“
Come
with
your
mermaid
,
”
she
said
;
“
come
and
light
a
fire
of
driftwood
in
her
ocean
cave
.
”
She
led
me
through
the
kitchen
to
the
little
room
where
we
worked
.
A
fire
burned
red
and
glowing
;
on
her
drawing-table
,
white
damask
covered
,
were
bread
,
butter
,
tea-things
.
The
brass
kettle
sang
softly
on
the
hob
.
“
The
ghost
must
have
done
this
,
”
said
I
.
“
You
said
you
'd
make
it
run
errands
,
but
I
never
thought
you
'd
get
it
to
light
fires
.
”
“
But
I
did
,
you
see
,
”
said
Chloe
.
“
I
taught
it
—
little
odd
minutes
when
you
were
carrying
buckets
and
sticking
up
damp
books
on
their
poor
tails
,
so
that
you
should
n't
notice
what
I
was
doing
.
Is
n't
it
a
clever
ghost
?
Are
n't
I
a
good
teacher
?
”
“
You
are
an
angel
,
”
I
said
.
“
I
'll
make
the
tea
.
”
“
Are
n't
I
a
noble
wife
?
Are
n't
you
proud
of
me
?
Do
n't
you
love
me
very
,
very
,
very
?
”
said
she
.
“
Not
exactly
,
”
said
I
,
holding
her
in
one
arm
and
making
the
tea
with
the
other
.
“
Respect
,
admiration
for
your
talents
—
look
out
,
you
nearly
had
the
teapot
over
!
—
but
love
!
Do
n't
be
exacting
—
and
do
n't
shake
my
arm
,
or
I
shall
scald
us
both
.
Go
and
get
something
dry
on
,
and
I
'll
cut
some
sandwiches
.
”
“
And
you
do
n't
love
me
?
”
“
I
might
like
you
better
if
you
were
dry
.
Go
!
Run
!
Skurry
!
”
“
The
potted
meat
is
in
the
chiffonnier
,
”
she
said
.
“
Are
you
going
to
keep
wet
?
”
“
Yes
,
I
've
got
to
go
out
and
see
what
there
is
on
the
roof
,
as
soon
as
it
's
light
enough
to
see
to
put
up
a
ladder
.
Madam
,
withdraw
,
and
take
five
drops
of
eucalyptus
oil
on
a
piece
of
sugar
.
”
It
was
rather
a
pleasant
breakfast
,
though
the
drip
,
drip
,
drip
went
on
merrily
all
the
time
.
When
the
last
sandwich
had
vanished
Chloe
put
her
elbows
on
the
table
and
said
:
“
Len
,
I
'm
afraid
it
's
very
wrong
,
but
I
've
rather
enjoyed
myself
.
I
seem
to
like
things
to
happen
.
But
,
oh
,
what
a
mess
everything
is
in
!
”
“
It
is
,
”
said
I
,
“
but
I
do
,
too
.
And
it
is
wicked
—
a
morbid
craving
for
excitement
,
even
at
the
expense
of
a
cherished
library
—
the
cream
of
our
country
's
literature
.
Now
put
on
your
macker
,
and
we
'll
go
up
on
the
roof
.
”
I
helped
her
into
her
mackintosh
,
and
we
went
.
The
roof
of
the
white
parlor
is
one
of
the
leaded
spaces
on
the
wings
of
the
Red
House
.
It
has
a
parapet
at
back
and
front
.
These
formed
a
sort
of
tank
;
all
the
waste-pipes
were
stuffed
up
with
leaves
and
twigs
,
and
I
pulled
a
black
,
sodden
starlings
'
nest
out
of
one
of
them
.
The
rain
came
down
pitilessly
.
I
looked
about
me
.
I
knew
that
,
below
,
the
flood
in
the
white
parlor
must
be
momently
gaining
in
depth
and
intensity
.
“
Chloe
,
”
I
said
,
“
this
is
no
time
to
be
tender
of
bricks
and
mortar
.
Go
and
fetch
the
bass-broom
,
and
I
will
seek
for
the
coal-hammer
.
”
I
found
it
,
after
some
search
,
in
the
pantry
.
I
had
taken
it
there
myself
,
I
remember
,
in
the
avowed
belief
that
it
,
and
it
only
,
could
serve
to
break
into
the
first
gooseberry
pie
of
Chloe
's
making
.
I
brought
it
up
onto
the
roof
,
and
with
it
smashed
away
the
bricks
and
cement
till
I
had
a
two-foot
embrasure
in
the
back
parapet
.
Then
I
paused
.
A
moment
's
silence
full
of
concentrated
reflection
broke
as
I
said
,
“
Wife
of
my
heart
,
to
think
that
quite
by
accident
you
have
married
a
mechanical
genius
!
”
Then
we
went
to
find
the
spade
.
With
it
we
dug
clay
from
the
banks
of
one
of
the
little
streams
which
feed
our
moat
.
I
transported
it
in
the
wheelbarrow
,
always
through
the
rain
,
to
the
scene
of
action
,
and
we
raised
it
to
the
roof
by
a
cord
and
the
waste-paper
basket
.
With
it
I
built
a
dam
round
my
embrasure
.
Then
again
I
paused
in
Napoleonic
meditation
,
and
then
—
“
The
dust-pan
,
beloved
,
”
I
said
,
looking
down
on
my
wife
's
pink
,
rain-wet
face
.
Then
I
knocked
over
the
last
three
inches
at
the
bottom
of
my
embrasure
.
The
water
from
within
my
dam
rushed
out
down
the
face
of
the
house
—
behind
the
dam
lay
the
tank
of
water
,
but
my
dam
held
firm
.
“
And
now
a
broom-handle
,
soul
of
my
soul
—
or
,
I
'll
tell
you
what
,
that
garden
rake
we
've
never
used
,
and
some
clothes-line
.
”
I
spliced
the
dust-pan
's
handle
at
right
angles
gles
to
the
handle
of
the
rake
,
and
laid
this
last
across
the
embrasure
.
The
parapet
held
its
ends
securely
,
and
the
dust-pan
,
face
downward
,
projected
itself
out
through
the
opening
.
I
made
all
fast
with
clay
and
then
called
Chloe
to
come
up
the
step-ladder
and
share
with
me
the
triumphant
moment
when
my
dam
should
be
broken
down
and
my
new
dust-pan-cum-rake
water-shoot
come
into
play
.
One
's
wife
should
share
one
's
joys
as
well
as
one
's
sorrows
,
I
said
.
The
ingenious
contrivance
,
which
I
thrilled
to
have
found
myself
capable
of
devising
,
acted
perfectly
.
I
kicked
my
dam
to
pieces
,
and
the
imprisoned
water
behind
rushed
impetuously
through
the
embrasure
,
and
,
directed
by
the
trusty
dust-pan
,
fell
in
a
cataract
a
yard
and
a
half
from
the
house
,
to
meander
away
harmlessly
along
the
gravel
path
.
I
helped
the
flowing
tide
with
the
bass-broom
,
and
all
the
while
the
rain
splashed
and
spun
and
sputtered
on
mackintosh
and
bared
heads
.
When
the
leads
held
but
half
an
inch
of
water
I
strengthened
the
dust-pan
and
rake
with
clay
,
and
we
went
indoors
.
The
white
parlor
was
unspeakably
wet
—
but
the
water
no
longer
dripped
from
the
roof
.
We
mopped
again
,
dried
and
dressed
,
and
did
our
ordinary
house-work
.
Then
the
sun
came
out
.
We
took
cushions
and
rugs
onto
the
balcony
,
and
fell
asleep
.
We
slept
till
late
in
the
afternoon
.
Then
I
went
to
fetch
a
plumber
.
He
came
,
many
days
later
,
cleared
the
wastepipes
,
and
sent
me
in
a
bill
for
£
2
17s
.
7d
.
This
was
the
first
charge
on
the
legacy
we
had
received
from
my
uncle
.
The
second
was
made
by
the
inspector
of
the
water
company
.
He
compelled
us
to
put
in
new
patent
taps
all
over
the
house
.
This
cost
£
7
9s
.
3d
.
;
and
when
a
grand-maternal
government
came
down
on
us
about
the
question
of
sinks
and
overflow-pipes
—
Chloe
,
in
my
absence
,
had
the
misfortune
to
cringe
before
its
minion
—
the
matter
ended
in
a
bill
of
£
29
19s
.
11d
.
Then
I
said
:
“
Chloe
,
ruin
stares
us
in
the
face
.
When
we
lived
in
the
Bandbox
—
”
“
Yes
,
I
know
,
”
she
interrupted
,
“
but
there
's
such
a
lot
to
do
here
.
”
“
The
'
ouse
is
too
large
and
the
work
too
'
eavy
,
”
I
quoted
.
“
It
is
n't
that
,
but
everything
's
so
large
,
”
she
said
.
“
Why
,
it
takes
me
two
hours
to
do
the
flowers
,
and
they
must
be
done
three
times
a
week
at
least
.
”
“
We
must
go
flowerless
,
Chloe
,
or
seek
the
refuge
of
the
neighboring
workhouse
.
Now
,
in
the
Bandbox
—
”
“
Yes
,
I
know
,
”
she
said
again
.
“
Oh
,
Len
,
do
n't
scold
—
it
's
horrid
of
you
!
”
Remorselessly
I
pursued
my
advantage
,
for
Chloe
seemed
to
be
in
a
yielding
mood
.
“
In
the
Bandbox
—
”
I
began
,
but
she
caught
me
by
the
shoulders
and
shook
me
and
took
the
words
out
of
my
mouth
.
“
In
the
Bandbox
,
”
she
said
,
“
I
worked
and
you
worked
.
And
now
we
do
n't
either
of
us
work
a
bit
more
than
we
can
help
.
And
I
know
why
it
is
,
too
—
we
've
both
found
out
how
interesting
other
things
are
.
You
'd
rather
chop
wood
or
clean
the
boots
than
write
your
nasty
,
dull
articles
and
stories
,
and
I
'd
rather
put
up
shelves
and
arrange
flowers
than
draw
silly
pictures
of
idiotic
people
for
imbecile
magazines
.
We
're
both
demoralized
by
—
what
do
you
call
it
?
—
the
joy
of
life
.
I
hate
work
.
I
wish
it
was
dead
!
”
“
Do
n't
you
call
sweeping
and
scrubbing
and
cooking
work
?
”
She
hesitated
,
then
:
“
No
,
”
she
cried
,
defiantly
,
“
it
is
n't
.
Work
is
what
you
hate
doing
,
and
have
to
do
for
your
living
.
Anything
else
is
play
—
you
know
it
is
!
”
“
My
gentle
playfellow
,
we
must
work
—
either
here
,
in
our
own
Red
House
,
or
in
the
yellow
brick
mansion
provided
by
a
tender
country
for
its
more
obvious
failures
.
The
Red
House
or
the
Union
—
which
is
it
to
be
?
”
“
There
's
Uncle
James
's
two
hundred
,
”
she
said
,
with
a
mutinous
glance
.
“
Chloe
,
Chloe
,
”
I
said
,
“
I
speak
more
in
sorrow
than
in
anger
.
In
the
Bandbox
—
yes
,
I
insist
on
my
right
to
mention
that
hallowed
spot
as
often
as
I
choose
—
you
went
to
town
twice
a
week
to
wring
remunerative
orders
for
illustrations
from
the
flinty
hearts
of
editors
.
You
have
often
explained
to
me
that
to
be
on
the
spot
is
the
thing
.
The
work
is
given
to
the
people
who
look
after
it
.
How
often
have
you
been
to
London
since
my
birthday
?
Once
—
and
that
was
the
day
when
you
went
to
the
registry-office
and
brought
back
the
fiend
who
burned
the
bottom
out
of
the
kitchen
kettle
.
”
She
hung
her
head
and
said
I
was
just
as
bad
.
“
I
know
it
,
but
I
am
a
practical
reformer
.
Reforms
personally
attended
to
.
Brush
my
frockcoat
,
please
,
if
you
have
any
idea
where
it
is
,
and
my
high
hat
,
if
you
can
find
it
.
I
am
going
to
town
this
afternoon
.
In
my
absence
I
expect
you
to
finish
your
illustration
for
the
Lady
's
Battalion
—
the
one
where
the
duchess
is
discharging
charging
her
butler
for
shaving
in
the
boudoir
,
and
leaving
his
shaving-brush
on
the
marble
console-table
.
”
“
You
're
not
nice
.
You
know
it
is
a
humble
companion
refusing
a
duke
's
offer
of
marriage
.
He
does
look
like
a
footman
,
I
know
;
her
arm
is
all
wrong
,
and
his
legs
are
hideously
out
of
drawing
.
Legs
are
so
difficult
to
do
,
especially
in
clothes
.
We
never
had
models
in
trousers
at
the
Slade
School
—
”
“
Ah
,
these
art-schools
!
”
I
said
.
“
Now
find
that
frock-coat
,
my
Michaela
Angelica
,
and
speed
the
parting
reformer
.
”
“
I
think
I
saw
it
once
in
the
dresser
drawer
,
”
she
said
,
dreamily
.
“
If
you
'd
seen
it
you
'd
have
put
it
away
.
Len
,
talking
of
shaving-brushes
,
how
is
it
I
used
to
be
so
tidy
in
the
Bandbox
,
and
you
not
,
and
now
you
're
tidier
than
I
am
?
”
“
It
is
your
influence
,
”
said
I
.
“
And
the
other
's
mine
?
”
“
Well
,
”
I
answered
,
“
when
two
people
are
moderately
fond
of
each
other
they
do
teach
each
other
things
,
do
n't
they
?
”
“
Then
you
've
corrupted
me
?
”
“
And
you
've
redeemed
me
,
or
are
redeeming
.
When
we
've
quite
converted
each
other
we
can
begin
again
and
change
back
.
But
the
coat
,
and
the
hat
.
I
must
shave
,
and
there
's
only
just
time
to
catch
the
11.32
.
For
the
sake
of
our
home
,
for
the
sake
of
our
future
,
for
the
peace
of
our
domestic
existence
,
Chloe
,
do
try
to
find
that
hat
and
that
coat
!
”
The
hat
was
all
right
,
but
the
coat
was
full
of
creases
.
It
was
not
in
the
dresser
drawer
,
after
all
,
but
on
the
bottom
shelf
of
the
oak
side-board
,
and
I
had
to
iron
it
before
I
could
dream
of
putting
it
on
.
Chloe
told
me
how
to
do
it
,
but
she
owned
that
I
did
it
far
better
than
she
could
have
done
it
herself
.
My
best
boots
were
mislaid
,
too
,
as
it
happened
,
and
,
before
I
had
discovered
them
in
a
corner
of
the
bare
drawing-room
,
I
had
missed
the
11.32
.
I
went
up
by
the
12.40
,
however
,
and
in
the
train
I
wondered
to
myself
how
it
was
that
Chloe
,
who
in
the
Bandbox
had
kept
all
in
so
neat
an
array
,
was
now
growing
more
untidy
than
I
in
my
most
reckless
moods
had
ever
been
.
It
was
a
problem
,
and
I
bent
myself
to
it
as
the
train
whirled
me
through
green
pastures
outlined
with
elm-trees
and
hawthorn
hedges
,
then
through
villas
,
red
and
self-consciously
trim
,
with
their
neat
gardens
,
geranium-flushed
,
calceolaria-gilded
—
neat
as
a
prize
map
at
a
first-class
high-school
.
The
problem
did
not
resolve
itself
.
It
was
not
till
the
train
was
rushing
through
a
wilderness
of
yellow
brick
houses
,
all
alike
,
all
soot-begrimed
,
all
standing
,
with
their
bits
of
blackened
garden
,
their
stunted
flowers
,
their
carefully
trained
snippets
of
creeper
,
for
lives
full
of
the
courageous
struggle
of
man
's
innate
love
of
beauty
against
the
iron
of
environment
,
the
crippling
of
the
accident
of
birth
,
the
handicap
of
hereditary
submission
to
the
undeserved
darkening
of
life
,
that
I
began
to
see
the
answer
to
my
question
.
In
our
first
home
—
the
Bandbox
,
the
little
nest
that
had
held
us
at
our
first
mating
—
Chloe
had
struggled
to
reproduce
,
and
had
reproduced
,
on
a
microscopic
scale
,
and
with
the
aid
of
a
woman
servant
more
or
less
tractable
,
the
habits
and
methods
learned
in
her
mother
's
house
in
Bedford
.
There
were
rules
,
and
she
followed
them
.
I
for
my
part
had
met
the
new
rules
as
part
of
a
new
and
delightful
comedy
,
wherein
my
wife
was
heroine
.
At
the
same
time
I
had
felt
no
urgent
need
for
altering
the
habits
of
years
spent
in
chambers
,
at
the
mercy
of
an
uncomplaining
and
systematically
dishonest
laundress
.
But
when
the
Bandbox
—
I
paid
it
the
tribute
of
a
perfunctory
sigh
,
even
in
my
railway-carriage
solitude
—
when
the
dear
Bandbox
was
left
behind
,
and
we
entered
the
Red
House
,
we
entered
,
too
,
on
a
new
life
—
a
primitive
existence
where
law
was
not
.
The
rules
Chloe
had
learned
in
Bedford
as
to
the
duties
of
servants
and
the
routine
of
domestic
life
were
now
inapplicable
,
since
we
had
no
servant
,
and
consequently
no
recognized
routine
.
We
were
in
the
position
of
folk
cast
upon
a
desert
island
(
I
mean
an
uninhabited
one
,
but
the
phraseology
,
as
the
instinct
,
of
boyhood
survives
)
.
And
here
we
had
suddenly
changed
parts
.
The
chart
of
custom
by
which
Chloe
had
steered
in
Bandbox
days
had
been
reft
from
her
.
She
had
nothing
left
but
delightful
,
genuine
impulses
towards
beauty
—
the
arrangement
of
flowers
,
the
fixing
of
shelves
,
and
the
deep
,
eternal
instinct
to
satisfy
the
cravings
of
hunger
in
herself
and
hers
—
me
.
I
,
on
the
other
hand
,
being
face
to
face
with
a
new
problem
,
met
it
,
man
fashion
,
with
a
new
solution
.
I
perceived
that
order
alone
could
make
our
life
in
the
Red
House
possible
.
As
the
train
steamed
over
the
bridge
one
practical
conclusion
came
as
the
result
of
my
meditations
.
Chloe
must
have
a
servant
.
I
saw
several
editors
,
received
a
commission
to
write
a
series
of
articles
on
foreign
politics
,
and
a
short
story
of
strong
domestic
interest
.
Then
I
stood
at
the
corner
by
the
Mansion
House
in
a
meditation
so
deep
as
to
provoke
the
amused
and
contemptuous
scrutiny
of
my
fellows
,
and
at
last
,
just
as
a
small
boy
was
murmuring
at
my
elbow
,
“
Makin
'
up
your
mind
whether
you
'll
be
prime-minister
or
not
?
Well
,
take
your
time
,
sir
;
it
's
worth
thinkin
'
over
,
”
I
hailed
a
'
bus
and
was
borne
away
by
it
.
I
went
straight
to
Mrs.
May
's
registry-office
in
Tottenham
Court
Road
.
The
ladies
who
attended
to
my
needs
seemed
to
me
to
have
the
most
perfect
manners
in
the
world
.
So
well
did
they
act
for
me
that
in
half
an
hour
I
had
engaged
an
amiable
general
servant
,
who
was
to
come
on
the
next
Monday
“
as
ever
was
.
”
“
Now
look
here
,
”
I
said
to
her
,
“
you
must
n't
expect
our
house
to
be
like
any
one
else
's
.
We
're
not
in
the
least
like
any
one
else
.
We
live
in
a
very
large
house
”
—
her
plump
face
fell
—
“
but
we
only
use
a
few
rooms
.
Your
mistress
will
help
you
a
bit
,
and
you
can
go
out
one
evening
a
week
and
every
Sunday
,
and
you
can
have
your
friends
to
see
you
any
evening
”
—
her
face
brightened
—
“
but
no
young
men
,
unless
they
come
by
twos
—
see
?
My
wife
and
I
will
both
help
you
,
and
if
you
help
us
we
shall
all
be
perfectly
jolly
.
What
do
you
think
?
Would
you
like
to
try
?
”
I
could
see
the
smile
Mrs.
May
was
trying
to
conceal
,
and
I
felt
a
tremor
of
doubt
.
Perhaps
,
after
all
,
it
did
not
do
to
treat
servants
as
though
they
were
of
the
same
flesh
and
blood
as
one
's
self
.
The
girl
hesitated
,
looked
doubtfully
at
me
,
I
smiled
at
her
in
my
best
manner
,
and
she
smiled
back
heartily
,
and
as
it
seemed
to
me
without
mental
reservations
.
“
Well
,
sir
,
”
she
said
,
“
we
can
but
try
.
”
So
that
was
settled
.
I
felt
the
warm
point
of
triumph
which
punctuates
the
career
of
the
born
organizer
.
“
Monday
,
then
,
”
said
I
;
“
and
send
your
box
by
Carter
Paterson
.
”
And
with
that
I
left
well
alone
,
and
went
back
to
Cannon
Street
via
the
Twopenny
Tube
.
I
had
to
wait
half
an
hour
for
a
train
.
On
the
platform
was
the
usual
dingy
,
mixed
crowd
of
clerks
,
type-writing
girls
,
art
students
,
and
City
men
,
and
among
them
,
her
red
hair
shining
at
me
down
the
length
of
the
gloomy
platform
,
a
woman
's
figure
that
I
knew
.
Her
dainty
dress
of
muslin
,
sown
with
little
bunches
of
violets
,
her
charming
hat
,
her
perfect
gloves
and
shoes
—
these
alone
might
not
have
thrust
her
identity
on
me
.
Thank
Heaven
,
more
than
one
Englishwoman
wears
pretty
muslin
gowns
and
picture-hats
,
and
has
gloves
and
shoes
that
fit
her
.
It
was
the
set
of
her
shoulders
,
the
poise
of
her
head
,
the
modest
,
graceful
self-possession
of
her
attitude
that
made
me
bold
to
step
behind
her
,
and
,
without
even
a
sight
of
her
face
,
to
murmur
over
her
shoulder
and
into
the
prettiest
ear
—
almost
—
in
the
world
,
“
Yolande
!
”
She
turned
in
a
flash
,
and
her
face
came
to
me
in
that
dull
place
like
a
gleam
of
sunlight
in
a
cloudy
day
.
“
How
unexpected
you
are
,
”
I
said
,
“
and
how
very
,
very
like
the
most
beautiful
kind
of
French
fashion-plate
.
”
“
I
was
going
down
to
see
Chloe
—
and
you
.
I
have
got
a
bag
somewhere
,
”
she
said
.
“
I
am
pretty
,
are
n't
I
?
I
got
this
gown
in
Paris
.
”
“
That
's
what
I
like
about
you
!
”
“
The
only
thing
?
”
“
The
chief
,
just
now
.
You
do
n't
think
old
clothes
rhyme
necessarily
with
old
friends
.
There
's
just
time
for
a
cup
of
tea
—
come
.
And
then
for
the
Red
House
.
We
shall
find
Chloe
in
rags
,
clearing
out
the
scullery
.
You
do
n't
know
—
or
rather
you
do
,
perfectly
well
—
what
a
sight
for
sore
eyes
you
'll
be
to
her
.
”
My
prophecy
was
fulfilled
.
My
wife
opened
the
door
to
us
.
“
Yolande
!
”
she
cried
,
“
I
did
n't
know
you
were
back
!
”
“
No
more
did
I
,
till
yesterday
,
”
said
Yolande
.
“
Chloe
!
”
I
cried
,
with
proper
severity
,
“
have
you
done
that
drawing
of
the
footman
and
the
duchess
?
Your
face
is
extremely
dirty
!
”
She
looked
at
me
with
that
disarming
blink
of
soft
lashes
for
the
sake
of
which
the
harshest
of
recording
angels
would
risk
his
situation
.
“
I
've
been
cleaning
out
the
kitchen
,
”
she
said
—
“
it
's
lovely
now
.
Yolande
,
come
and
take
your
things
off
.
He
'll
make
the
tea
and
set
the
table
.
He
's
quite
domestic
now
—
are
n't
you
,
Benedick
?
”
“
Yes
,
Beatrice
,
”
I
said
;
“
and
there
's
a
large
black
on
your
respectable
ear
—
the
right
one
.
”
“
The
better
to
hear
with
,
my
dear
.
”
“
And
why
are
your
hands
so
extremely
grimy
?
”
I
returned
,
capping
the
quotation
.
“
The
better
to
slap
you
with
!
”
she
cried
,
the
action
rhyming
with
the
word
,
and
fled
.
She
came
down
to
tea
all
white
muslin
and
lace
and
pink
ribbons
.
“
It
's
Yolande
's
fault
,
”
she
said
.
deprecatingly
.
“
I
hate
being
smart
myself
.
It
's
so
unsuitable
to
our
position
.
Do
n't
look
at
me
like
that
!
”
Throughout
tea
I
could
look
at
nothing
else
.
Yolande
is
a
witch
.
How
else
could
she
have
known
that
in
these
weeks
of
happy
,
hard
work
I
had
vaguely
missed
something
,
somehow
,
and
had
never
guessed
till
now
that
it
was
my
wife
's
beauty
,
so
unadorned
,
and
still
so
dear
,
that
had
fretted
me
with
the
unconscious
desire
to
see
it
once
more
fitly
clothed
?
The
evening
was
a
festival
.
Yolande
played
Chopin
to
us
in
the
dim
,
empty
drawing-room
,
and
if
I
did
hold
my
wife
's
hand
the
while
,
Yolande
did
not
mind
,
for
she
was
used
to
us
.
Chloe
showed
us
the
duchess
and
footman
drawing
,
and
indeed
the
duchess
's
arm
was
hopelessly
wrong
,
and
the
footman
's
legs
things
to
weep
over
.
We
drank
ginger-ale
,
always
with
us
the
outward
expression
of
hilarity
,
and
,
as
the
evening
waned
,
sang
comic
songs
.
When
Yolande
had
gone
to
bed
,
in
the
room
got
ready
for
the
servants
who
never
came
,
I
caught
my
wife
by
both
hands
.
“
Madam
,
”
said
I
,
“
why
did
you
never
tell
me
how
pretty
you
looked
in
pink
ribbons
?
”
“
I
did
n't
think
you
cared
for
ribbons
,
”
she
said
;
“
besides
,
it
's
all
Yolande
's
fault
.
”
“
To-morrow
morning
,
”
said
I
,
“
I
shall
kiss
Yolande
for
this
.
”
Chloe
looked
at
me
.
“
You
may
,
”
she
said
.
“
I
do
n't
think
she
'd
like
it
,
but
you
may
.
Only
do
n't
do
it
while
I
'm
there
,
because
it
might
make
me
jealous
.
”
“
What
,
Chloe
in
pink
ribbons
jealous
of
Yolande
in
violet
muslin
?
I
might
as
well
be
jealous
of
the
crossing-sweeper
when
you
smile
at
him
and
give
him
pennies
.
”
“
And
are
n't
you
?
”
said
she
.
“
You
would
be
,
if
you
were
a
really
nice
husband
.
But
I
'll
tell
Yolande
you
said
she
was
like
a
crossing-sweeper
.
And
she
would
n't
let
you
kiss
her
,
anyway
!
”
“
What
do
you
bet
?
”
“
If
she
did
it
would
only
be
to
please
me
!
And
if
you
did
it
would
only
be
to
tease
me
.
No
,
you
ca
n't
tease
me
!
”
She
paused
,
then
—
“
And
,
Len
,
”
she
said
,
“
Yolande
's
too
dear
to
have
silly
jokes
made
about
her
,
even
by
you
and
only
to
me
,
or
even
to
you
and
only
by
me
.
”
“
And
you
're
too
dear
,
”
I
said
,
with
my
face
against
the
pink
ribbons
,
“
to
be
teased
,
even
if
I
could
compass
it
.
Besides
,
madam
,
I
have
been
guilty
of
a
crime
—
worse
,
an
error
in
taste
.
I
might
be
a
hair-dresser
's
apprentice
chaffing
his
sweetheart
of
the
drapery
department
.
Forgive
me
—
I
am
a
little
mad
to-night
.
”
She
pushed
me
away
till
she
could
look
in
my
eyes
.
“
Len
,
”
she
said
,
“
how
awful
it
would
have
been
if
I
had
married
any
one
else
.
There
is
no
one
else
who
understands
everything
.
But
why
did
you
?
You
never
made
jokes
about
kissing
other
people
before
!
”
“
It
is
detestable
,
”
I
said
,
“
and
it
's
no
excuse
to
repeat
that
it
was
only
because
I
am
so
happy
.
And
yet
it
's
true
.
Am
I
forgiven
?
”
Now
what
made
me
talk
that
nonsense
?
And
suppose
Chloe
had
laughed
at
it
or
,
on
the
other
hand
,
had
taken
it
seriously
,
where
should
we
have
been
?
Now
,
Heaven
be
praised
for
the
gift
of
understanding
.
If
Chloe
had
done
,
had
looked
,
anything
but
what
she
did
do
and
look
—
But
Chloe
is
Chloe
,
and
,
thank
God
,
mine
.
Yolande
stayed
with
us
three
days
.
The
rainbow
delights
of
our
new
house
seemed
newly
dyed
when
we
displayed
them
to
her
appreciative
eyes
.
And
I
felt
a
new
impulse
to
work
,
now
that
Chloe
had
some
one
to
bear
her
company
as
she
gathered
flowers
,
rearranged
furniture
,
or
struggled
,
face
all
aglow
,
against
the
fiendish
arts
of
the
kitchen
range
.
I
wrote
half
my
“
story
of
strong
domestic
interest
,
”
and
then
stuck
fast
.
There
was
a
scene
where
the
hero
,
on
the
point
of
marriage
with
a
respectable
and
admired
heiress
,
the
friend
of
childhood
's
hour
,
sees
,
as
he
walks
up
the
church
to
his
bridal
,
the
face
of
his
old
love
,
whom
he
had
thought
dead
.
This
scene
wanted
something
besides
smartness
.
It
wanted
fire
,
passion
,
delicacy
of
handling
,
strength
of
grasp
.
And
these
qualities
,
strange
to
say
,
eluded
me
.
I
told
my
woes
,
and
received
from
Chloe
and
Yolande
sympathy
,
but
no
aid
.
On
that
third
moonlight
evening
,
when
we
sat
out
on
the
grass
,
round
the
sun-dial
,
and
Yolande
sang
Spanish
and
Pyrenean
songs
to
the
tinkle
of
Chloe
's
guitar
,
I
almost
seemed
to
surprise
in
myself
the
force
to
grapple
with
that
scene
and
get
the
better
of
it
;
but
when
they
had
gone
to
bed
and
I
sat
face
to
face
with
my
type-writer
,
the
force
shrivelled
to
a
very
agony
of
conscious
incompetence
.
I
wrote
three
abject
sentences
,
and
went
to
bed
hopeless
.
Next
morning
I
took
Yolande
to
a
cricket
match
,
and
in
the
evening
she
left
us
.
“
I
'll
come
again
in
a
fortnight
if
you
'll
have
me
,
”
she
said
,
“
but
now
I
must
put
on
my
soberest
frock
and
a
hat
that
would
make
you
weep
,
and
interview
parents
who
want
to
provide
their
girls
with
a
complete
outfit
of
up-to-date
culture
,
cheap
.
”
We
went
up
to
the
little
country
station
,
bareheaded
,
ungloved
,
to
the
scandal
of
the
porters
and
the
station-master
,
and
waved
our
farewells
as
the
train
bore
her
away
.
Chloe
's
clean
handkerchief
had
a
great
hole
in
it
,
which
she
never
noticed
till
too
late
,
and
then
we
went
back
,
she
to
house-work
,
and
I
to
my
story
.
I
had
left
it
at
page
thirty-one
;
it
stood
now
at
page
fifty-nine
.
The
story
was
finished
.
I
read
the
pages
rapidly
.
The
story
was
good
,
very
good
.
All
the
fire
and
passion
and
force
I
had
longed
for
and
had
known
to
be
necessary
were
here
.
The
story
began
tamely
,
and
ended
in
vivid
and
triumphant
drama
.
“
Chloe
!
”
I
called
.
She
came
,
a
dish-cloth
in
her
hand
and
apron
round
her
waist
.
“
Some
one
has
finished
the
story
.
Read
it
.
”
She
read
it
slowly
.
“
Is
it
good
?
”
she
asked
.
“
Of
course
it
is
.
But
did
you
—
Who
did
it
?
”
“
Did
n't
you
?
”
“
No
,
