secretlysustained
by
her
mother
's
glancing
sidelights
on
the
feminine
character
and
the
instability
of
"
girlish
whims
,
"
remained
at
Buryhamstreet
until
the
family
returned
to
Hartstone
Square
.
The
engagement
was
ended
—
formally
—
but
in
such
a
manner
that
Magnet
was
left
a
rather
pathetic
and
invincibly
assiduous
besieger
.
He
lavished
little
presents
upon
both
sisters
,
he
devised
little
treats
for
the
entire
family
,
he
enriched
Theodore
beyond
the
dreams
of
avarice
,
and
he
discussed
his
love
and
admiration
for
Marjorie
,
and
the
perplexities
and
delicacies
of
the
situation
not
only
with
Mrs.
Pope
,
but
with
Daphne
.
At
first
he
had
thought
very
little
of
Daphne
,
but
now
he
was
beginning
to
experience
the
subtle
pleasures
of
a
confidential
friendship
.
She
understood
,
he
felt
;
it
was
quite
wonderful
how
she
understood
.
He
found
Daffy
much
richer
in
response
than
Marjorie
,
and
far
less
disconcerting
in
reply
...
.
Mr.
Pope
,
for
all
Marjorie
's
submission
to
his
wishes
,
developed
a
Grand
Dudgeon
of
exceptionally
fine
proportions
when
he
heard
of
the
breach
of
the
engagement
.
He
ceased
to
speak
to
his
daughter
or
admit
himself
aware
of
her
existence
,
and
the
Grand
Dudgeon
's
blighting
shadow
threw
a
chill
over
the
life
of
every
one
in
the
house
.
He
made
it
clear
that
the
Grand
Dudgeon
would
only
be
lifted
by
Marjorie
's
re-engagement
to
Magnet
,
and
that
whatever
blight
or
inconvenience
fell
on
the
others
was
due
entirely
to
Marjorie
's
wicked
obstinacy
.
Using
Mrs.
Pope
as
an
intermediary
,
he
also
conveyed
to
Marjorie
his
decision
to
be
no
longer
burthened
with
the
charges
of
her
education
at
Oxbridge
,
and
he
made
it
seem
extremely
doubtful
whether
he
should
remember
her
approaching
twenty-first
birthday
.
Marjorie
received
the
news
of
her
severance
from
Oxbridge
,
Mrs.
Pope
thought
,
with
a
certain
hardness
.
"
I
thought
he
would
do
that
,
"
said
Marjorie
.
"
He
's
always
wanted
to
do
that
,
"
and
said
no
more
.
CHAPTER
THE
FIFTH
A
Telephone
Call
Trafford
went
back
to
Solomonson
for
a
day
or
so
,
and
then
to
London
,
to
resume
the
experimental
work
of
the
research
he
had
in
hand
.
But
he
was
so
much
in
love
with
Marjorie
that
for
some
days
it
was
a
very
dazed
mind
that
fumbled
with
the
apparatus
—
arranged
it
and
rearranged
it
,
and
fell
into
daydreams
that
gave
the
utmost
concern
to
Durgan
the
bottle-washer
.
"
He
's
not
going
straight
at
things
,
"
said
Durgan
the
bottle-washer
to
his
wife
.
"
He
usually
goes
so
straight
at
things
it
's
a
pleasure
to
watch
it
.
He
told
me
he
was
going
down
into
Kent
to
think
everything
out
.
"
Mr.
Durgan
paused
impressively
,
and
spoke
with
a
sigh
of
perplexity
.
"
He
has
n't
...
.
"
But
later
Durgan
was
able
to
report
that
Trafford
had
pulled
himself
together
.
The
work
was
moving
.
"
I
was
worried
for
a
bit
,
"
said
Mr.
Durgan
.
"
But
I
think
it
's
all
right
again
.
I
believe
it
's
all
right
again
.
"
Trafford
was
one
of
those
rare
scientific
men
who
really
ought
to
be
engaged
in
scientific
research
.
He
could
never
leave
an
accepted
formula
alone
.
His
mind
was
like
some
insatiable
corrosive
,
that
ate
into
all
the
hidden
inequalities
and
plastered
weaknesses
of
accepted
theories
,
and
bit
its
way
through
every
plausibility
of
appearance
.
He
was
extraordinarily
fertile
in
exasperating
alternative
hypotheses
.
His
invention
of
destructive
test
experiments
was
as
happy
as
the
respectful
irony
with
which
he
brought
them
into
contact
with
the
generalizations
they
doomed
.
He
was
already
,
at
six-and-twenty
,
hated
,
abused
,
obstructed
,
and
respected
.
He
was
still
outside
the
Royal
Society
,
of
course
,
and
the
editors
of
the
scientific
periodicals
admired
his
papers
greatly
,
and
delayed
publication
;
but
it
was
fairly
certain
that
that
pressure
of
foreign
criticism
and
competition
which
prevents
English
scientific
men
of
good
family
and
social
position
from
maintaining
any
such
national
standards
as
we
are
able
to
do
in
art
,
literature
,
and
politics
,
would
finally
carry
him
in
.
And
since
he
had
a
small
professorship
worth
three
hundred
a
year
,
which
gave
him
the
command
of
a
sufficient
research
laboratory
and
the
services
of
Mr.
Durgan
,
a
private
income
of
nearly
three
hundred
more
,
a
devoted
mother
to
keep
house
for
him
,
and
an
invincible
faith
in
Truth
,
he
had
every
prospect
of
winning
in
his
particular
struggle
to
inflict
more
Truth
,
new
lucidities
,
and
fresh
powers
upon
this
fractious
and
unreasonable
universe
.
In
the
world
of
science
now
,
even
more
than
in
the
world
of
literature
and
political
thought
,
the
thing
that
is
alive
struggles
,
half-suffocated
,
amidst
a
copious
production
of
things
born
dead
.
The
endowment
of
research
,
the
organization
of
scientific
progress
,
the
creation
of
salaried
posts
,
and
the
assignment
of
honours
,
has
attracted
to
this
field
just
that
type
of
man
which
is
least
gifted
to
penetrate
and
discover
,
and
least
able
to
admit
its
own
defect
or
the
quality
of
a
superior
.
Such
men
are
producing
great
,
bulky
masses
of
imitative
research
,
futile
inquiries
,
and
monstrous
entanglements
of
technicality
about
their
subjects
;
and
it
is
to
their
instinctive
antagonism
to
the
idea
of
a
"
gift
"
in
such
things
that
we
owe
the
preposterous
conception
of
a
training
for
research
,
the
manufacture
of
mental
blinkers
that
is
to
say
,
to
avoid
what
is
the
very
soul
of
brilliant
inquiry
—
applicable
discursiveness
.
The
trained
investigator
is
quite
the
absurdest
figure
in
the
farce
of
contemporary
intellectual
life
;
he
is
like
a
bath-chair
perpetually
starting
to
cross
the
Himalayas
by
virtue
of
a
licence
to
do
so
.
For
such
enterprises
one
must
have
wings
.
Organization
and
genius
are
antipathetic
.
The
vivid
and
creative
mind
,
by
virtue
of
its
qualities
,
is
a
spasmodic
and
adventurous
mind
;
it
resents
blinkers
,
and
the
mere
implication
that
it
can
be
driven
in
harness
to
the
unexpected
.
It
demands
freedom
.
It
resents
regular
attendance
from
ten
to
four
and
punctualities
in
general
and
all
those
paralyzing
minor
tests
of
conduct
that
are
vitally
important
to
the
imagination
of
the
authoritative
dull
.
Consequently
,
it
is
being
eliminated
from
its
legitimate
field
,
and
it
is
only
here
and
there
among
the
younger
men
that
such
a
figure
as
Trafford
gives
any
promise
of
a
renewal
of
that
enthusiasm
,
that
intellectual
enterprise
,
which
were
distinctive
of
the
great
age
of
scientific
advance
.
Trafford
was
the
only
son
of
his
parents
.
His
father
had
been
a
young
surgeon
,
more
attracted
by
knowledge
than
practice
,
who
had
been
killed
by
a
scratch
of
the
scalpel
in
an
investigation
upon
ulcerative
processes
,
at
the
age
of
twenty-nine
.
Trafford
at
that
time
was
three
years
old
,
so
that
he
had
not
the
least
memory
of
his
father
;
but
his
mother
,
by
a
thousand
almost
unpremeditated
touches
,
had
built
up
a
figure
for
him
and
a
tradition
that
was
shaping
his
life
.
She
had
loved
her
husband
passionately
,
and
when
he
died
her
love
burnt
up
like
a
flame
released
,
and
made
a
god
of
the
good
she
had
known
with
him
.
She
was
then
a
very
beautiful
and
active-minded
woman
of
thirty
,
and
she
did
her
best
to
reconstruct
her
life
;
but
she
could
find
nothing
so
living
in
the
world
as
the
clear
courage
,
the
essential
simplicity
,
and
tender
memories
of
the
man
she
had
lost
.
And
she
was
the
more
devoted
to
him
that
he
had
had
little
weaknesses
of
temper
and
bearing
,
and
that
an
outrageous
campaign
had
been
waged
against
him
that
did
not
cease
with
his
death
.
He
had
,
in
some
medical
periodical
,
published
drawings
of
a
dead
dog
clamped
to
display
a
deformity
,
and
these
had
been
seized
upon
by
a
group
of
anti-vivisection
fanatics
as
the
representation
of
a
vivisection
.
A
libel
action
had
been
pending
when
he
died
;
but
there
is
no
protection
of
the
dead
from
libel
.
That
monstrous
lie
met
her
on
pamphlet
cover
,
on
hoardings
,
in
sensational
appeals
;
it
seemed
immortal
,
and
she
would
have
suffered
the
pains
of
a
dozen
suttees
if
she
could
have
done
so
,
to
show
the
world
how
the
power
and
tenderness
of
this
alleged
tormentor
of
helpless
beasts
had
gripped
one
woman
's
heart
.
It
counted
enormously
in
her
decision
to
remain
a
widow
and
concentrate
her
life
upon
her
son
.
She
watched
his
growth
with
a
care
and
passionate
subtlety
that
even
at
six-and-twenty
he
was
still
far
from
suspecting
.
She
dreaded
his
becoming
a
mother
's
pet
,
she
sent
him
away
to
school
and
fretted
through
long
terms
alone
,
that
he
might
be
made
into
a
man
.
She
interested
herself
in
literary
work
and
social
affairs
lest
she
should
press
upon
him
unduly
.
She
listened
for
the
crude
expression
of
growing
thought
in
him
with
an
intensity
that
was
almost
anguish
.
She
was
too
intelligent
to
dream
of
forming
his
mind
,
he
browsed
on
every
doctrine
to
find
his
own
,
but
she
did
desire
most
passionately
,
she
prayed
,
she
prayed
in
the
darkness
of
sleepless
nights
,
that
the
views
,
the
breadths
,
the
spacious
emotions
which
had
ennobled
her
husband
in
her
eyes
should
rise
again
in
him
.
There
were
years
of
doubt
and
waiting
.
He
was
a
good
boy
and
a
bad
boy
,
now
brilliant
,
now
touching
,
now
disappointing
,
now
gloriously
reassuring
,
and
now
heart-rending
as
only
the
children
of
our
blood
can
be
.
He
had
errors
and
bad
moments
,
lapses
into
sheer
naughtiness
,
phases
of
indolence
,
attacks
of
contagious
vulgarity
.
But
more
and
more
surely
she
saw
him
for
his
father
's
son
;
she
traced
the
same
great
curiosities
,
the
same
keen
dauntless
questioning
;
whatever
incidents
might
disturb
and
perplex
her
,
his
intellectual
growth
went
on
strong
and
clear
and
increasing
like
some
sacred
flame
that
is
carried
in
procession
,
halting
perhaps
and
swaying
a
little
but
keeping
on
,
over
the
heads
of
a
tumultuous
crowd
.
He
went
from
his
school
to
the
Royal
College
of
Science
,
thence
to
successes
at
Cambridge
,
and
thence
to
Berlin
.
He
travelled
a
little
in
Asia
Minor
and
Persia
,
had
a
journey
to
America
,
and
then
came
back
to
her
and
London
,
sunburnt
,
moustached
,
manly
,
and
a
little
strange
.
When
he
had
been
a
boy
she
had
thought
his
very
soul
pellucid
;
it
had
clouded
opaquely
against
her
scrutiny
as
he
passed
into
adolescence
.
Then
through
the
period
of
visits
and
departures
,
travel
together
,
separations
,
he
grew
into
something
detached
and
admirable
,
a
man
curiously
reminiscent
of
his
father
,
unexpectedly
different
.
She
ceased
to
feel
what
he
was
feeling
in
his
mind
,
had
to
watch
him
,
infer
,
guess
,
speculate
about
him
.
She
desired
for
him
and
dreaded
for
him
with
an
undying
tenderness
,
but
she
no
longer
had
any
assurance
that
she
could
interfere
to
help
him
.
He
had
his
father
's
trick
of
falling
into
thought
.
Her
brown
eyes
would
watch
him
across
the
flowers
and
delicate
glass
and
silver
of
her
dinner
table
when
he
dined
at
home
with
her
.
Sometimes
he
seemed
to
forget
she
existed
,
sometimes
he
delighted
in
her
,
talked
to
amuse
her
,
petted
her
;
sometimes
,
and
then
it
was
she
was
happiest
,
he
talked
of
plays
and
books
with
her
,
discussed
general
questions
,
spoke
even
of
that
broadly
conceived
scheme
of
work
which
engaged
so
much
of
his
imagination
.
She
knew
that
it
was
distinguished
and
powerful
work
.
Old
friends
of
her
husband
spoke
of
it
to
her
,
praised
its
inspired
directness
,
its
beautiful
simplicity
.
Since
the
days
of
Wollaston
,
they
said
,
no
one
had
been
so
witty
an
experimenter
,
no
one
had
got
more
out
of
mere
scraps
of
apparatus
or
contrived
more
ingenious
simplifications
.
When
he
had
accepted
the
minor
Professorship
which
gave
him
a
footing
in
the
world
of
responsible
scientific
men
,
she
had
taken
a
house
in
a
quiet
street
in
Chelsea
which
necessitated
a
daily
walk
to
his
laboratory
.
It
was
a
little
old
Georgian
house
with
worn
and
graceful
rooms
,
a
dignified
front
door
and
a
fine
gateway
of
Sussex
ironwork
much
painted
and
eaten
away
.
She
arranged
it
with
great
care
;
she
had
kept
most
of
her
furniture
,
and
his
study
had
his
father
's
bureau
,
and
the
selfsame
agate
paper-weight
that
had
pressed
the
unfinished
paper
he
left
when
he
died
.
She
was
a
woman
of
persistent
friendships
,
and
there
came
to
her
,
old
connections
of
those
early
times
trailing
fresher
and
younger
people
in
their
wake
,
sons
,
daughters
,
nephews
,
disciples
;
her
son
brought
home
all
sorts
of
interesting
men
,
and
it
was
remarkable
to
her
that
amidst
the
talk
and
discussion
at
her
table
,
she
discovered
aspects
of
her
son
and
often
quite
intimate
aspects
she
would
never
have
seen
with
him
alone
.
She
would
not
let
herself
believe
that
this
Indian
summer
of
her
life
could
last
for
ever
.
He
was
no
passionless
devotee
of
research
,
for
all
his
silence
and
restraints
.
She
had
seen
him
kindle
with
anger
at
obstacles
and
absurdities
,
and
quicken
in
the
presence
of
beauty
.
She
knew
how
readily
and
richly
he
responded
to
beauty
.
Things
happened
to
have
run
smoothly
with
him
so
far
,
that
was
all
.
"
Of
course
,
"
she
said
,
"
he
must
fall
in
love
.
It
cannot
be
long
before
he
falls
in
love
.
"
Once
or
twice
that
had
seemed
to
happen
,
and
then
it
had
come
to
nothing
...
.
She
knew
that
sooner
or
later
this
completion
of
his
possibilities
must
come
,
that
the
present
steadfastness
of
purpose
was
a
phase
in
which
forces
gathered
,
that
love
must
sweep
into
his
life
as
a
deep
and
passionate
disturbance
.
She
wondered
where
it
would
take
him
,
whether
it
would
leave
him
enriched
or
devastated
.
She
saw
at
times
how
young
he
was
;
she
had
,
as
I
suppose
most
older
people
have
about
their
juniors
,
the
profoundest
doubt
whether
he
was
wise
enough
yet
to
be
trusted
with
a
thing
so
good
as
himself
.
He
had
flashes
of
high-spirited
indiscretion
,
and
at
times
a
wildfire
of
humour
flared
in
his
talk
.
So
far
that
had
done
no
worse
for
him
than
make
an
enemy
or
so
in
scientific
circles
.
But
she
had
no
idea
of
the
limits
of
his
excitability
.
She
would
watch
him
and
fear
for
him
—
she
knew
the
wreckage
love
can
make
—
and
also
she
desired
that
he
should
lose
nothing
that
life
and
his
nature
could
give
him
.
In
the
two
months
of
separation
that
ensued
before
Marjorie
was
one-and-twenty
,
Trafford
's
mind
went
through
some
remarkable
phases
.
At
first
the
excitement
of
his
passion
for
Marjorie
obscured
everything
else
,
then
with
his
return
to
London
and
his
laboratory
the
immense
inertia
of
habit
and
slowly
developed
purposes
,
the
complex
yet
convergent
system
of
ideas
and
problems
to
which
so
much
of
his
life
had
been
given
,
began
to
reassert
itself
.
His
love
was
vivid
and
intense
,
a
light
in
his
imagination
,
a
fever
in
his
blood
;
but
it
was
a
new
thing
;
it
had
not
crept
into
the
flesh
and
bones
of
his
being
,
it
was
away
there
in
Surrey
;
the
streets
of
London
,
his
home
,
the
white-walled
chamber
with
its
skylight
and
high
windows
and
charts
of
constants
,
in
which
his
apparatus
was
arranged
,
had
no
suggestion
of
her
.
She
was
outside
—
an
adventure
—
a
perplexing
incommensurable
with
all
these
things
.
He
had
left
Buryhamstreet
with
Marjorie
riotously
in
possession
of
his
mind
.
He
could
think
of
nothing
but
Marjorie
in
the
train
,
and
how
she
had
shone
at
him
in
the
study
,
and
how
her
voice
had
sounded
when
she
spoke
,
and
how
she
stood
and
moved
,
and
the
shape
and
sensation
of
her
hands
,
and
how
it
had
felt
to
hold
her
for
those
brief
moments
in
the
wood
and
press
lips
and
body
to
his
,
and
how
her
face
had
gleamed
in
the
laced
shadows
of
the
moonlight
,
soft
and
wonderful
.
In
fact
,
he
thought
of
Marjorie
.
He
thought
she
was
splendid
,
courageous
,
wise
by
instinct
.
He
had
no
doubt
of
her
or
that
she
was
to
be
his
—
when
the
weeks
of
waiting
had
passed
by
.
She
was
his
,
and
he
was
Marjorie
's
;
that
had
been
settled
from
the
beginning
of
the
world
.
It
did
n't
occur
to
him
that
anything
had
happened
to
alter
his
life
or
any
of
his
arrangements
in
any
way
,
except
that
they
were
altogether
altered
—
as
the
world
is
altered
without
displacement
when
the
sun
pours
up
in
the
east
.
He
was
glorified
—
and
everything
was
glorified
.
He
wondered
how
they
would
meet
again
,
and
dreamt
a
thousand
impossible
and
stirring
dreams
,
but
he
dreamt
them
as
dreams
.
At
first
,
to
Durgan
's
infinite
distress
,
he
thought
of
her
all
day
,
and
then
,
as
the
old
familiar
interests
grappled
him
again
,
he
thought
of
her
in
the
morning
and
the
evening
and
as
he
walked
between
his
home
and
the
laboratory
and
at
all
sorts
of
incidental
times
—
and
even
when
the
close-locked
riddles
of
his
research
held
the
foreground
and
focus
of
his
thoughts
,
he
still
seemed
to
be
thinking
of
her
as
a
radiant
background
to
ions
and
molecules
and
atoms
and
interwoven
systems
of
eddies
and
quivering
oscillations
deep
down
in
the
very
heart
of
matter
.
And
always
he
thought
of
her
as
something
of
the
summer
.
The
rich
decays
of
autumn
came
,
the
Chelsea
roads
were
littered
with
variegated
leaves
that
were
presently
wet
and
dirty
and
slippery
,
the
twilight
crept
down
into
the
day
towards
five
o'clock
and
four
,
but
in
his
memory
of
her
the
leaves
were
green
,
the
evenings
were
long
,
the
warm
quiet
of
rural
Surrey
in
high
August
filled
the
air
.
So
that
it
was
with
a
kind
of
amazement
he
found
her
in
London
and
in
November
close
at
hand
.
He
was
called
to
the
college
telephone
one
day
from
a
conversation
with
a
proposed
research
student
.
It
was
a
middle-aged
woman
bachelor
anxious
for
the
D.Sc
.
,
who
wished
to
occupy
the
further
bench
in
the
laboratory
;
but
she
had
no
mental
fire
,
and
his
mind
was
busy
with
excuses
and
discouragements
.
He
had
no
thought
of
Marjorie
when
she
answered
,
and
for
an
instant
he
did
not
recognize
her
voice
.
"
Yes
,
I
'm
Mr.
Trafford
.
"
...
"
Who
is
it
?
"
he
reiterated
with
a
note
of
irascibility
.
"
Who
?
"
The
little
voice
laughed
.
"
Why
!
I
'm
Marjorie
!
"
it
said
.
Then
she
was
back
in
his
life
like
a
lantern
suddenly
become
visible
in
a
wood
at
midnight
.
It
was
like
meeting
her
as
a
china
figure
,
neat
and
perfect
and
two
inches
high
.
It
was
her
voice
,
very
clear
and
very
bright
,
and
quite
characteristic
,
as
though
he
was
hearing
it
through
the
wrong
end
of
a
telescope
.
It
was
her
voice
,
clear
as
a
bell
;
confident
without
a
shadow
.
"
It
's
me
!
Marjorie
!
I
'm
twenty-one
to-day
!
"
It
was
like
a
little
arrow
of
exquisite
light
shot
into
the
very
heart
of
his
life
.
He
laughed
back
.
"
Are
you
for
meeting
me
then
,
Marjorie
?
"
They
met
in
Kensington
Gardens
with
an
air
of
being
clandestine
and
defiant
.
It
was
one
of
those
days
of
amber
sunlight
,
soft
air
,
and
tender
beauty
with
which
London
relieves
the
tragic
glooms
of
the
year
's
decline
.
There
were
still
a
residue
of
warm-tinted
leaves
in
puffs
and
clusters
upon
the
tree
branches
,
a
boat
or
two
ruffled
the
blue
Serpentine
,
and
the
waterfowl
gave
colour
and
animation
to
the
selvage
of
the
water
.
The
sedges
were
still
a
greenish
yellow
.
The
two
met
shyly
.
They
were
both
a
little
unfamiliar
to
each
other
.
Trafford
was
black-coated
,
silk-hatted
,
umbrella-d
,
a
decorous
young
professor
in
the
place
of
the
cheerful
aeronaut
who
had
fallen
so
gaily
out
of
the
sky
.
Marjorie
had
a
new
tailor-made
dress
of
russet-green
,
and
a
little
cloth
toque
ruled
and
disciplined
the
hair
he
had
known
as
a
ruddy
confusion
...
.
They
had
dreamt
,
I
think
,
of
extended
arms
and
a
wild
rush
to
embrace
one
another
.
Instead
,
they
shook
hands
.
"
And
so
,
"
said
Trafford
,
"
we
meet
again
!
"
"
I
do
n't
see
why
we
should
n't
meet
!
"
said
Marjorie
.
There
was
a
slight
pause
.
"
Let
's
have
two
of
those
jolly
little
green
chairs
,
"
said
Trafford
...
.
They
walked
across
the
grass
towards
the
chairs
he
had
indicated
,
and
both
were
full
of
the
momentous
things
they
were
finding
it
impossible
to
say
.
"
There
ought
to
be
squirrels
here
,
as
there
are
in
New
York
,
"
he
said
at
last
.
They
sat
down
.
There
was
a
moment
's
silence
,
and
then
Trafford
's
spirit
rose
in
rebellion
and
he
plunged
at
this
—
this
stranger
beside
him
.
"
Look
here
,
"
he
said
,
"
do
you
still
love
me
,
Marjorie
?
"
She
looked
up
into
his
face
with
eyes
in
which
surprise
and
scrutiny
passed
into
something
altogether
beautiful
.
"
I
love
you
—
altogether
,
"
she
said
in
a
steady
,
low
voice
.
And
suddenly
she
was
no
longer
a
stranger
,
but
the
girl
who
had
flitted
to
his
arms
breathless
,
unhesitating
,
through
the
dusk
.
His
blood
quickened
.
He
made
an
awkward
gesture
as
though
he
arrested
an
impulse
to
touch
her
.
"
My
sweetheart
,
"
he
said
.
"
My
dear
one
!
"
Marjorie
's
face
flashed
responses
.
"
It
's
you
,
"
he
said
.
"
Me
,
"
she
answered
.
"
Do
you
remember
?
"
"
Everything
!
"
"
My
dear
!
"
"
I
want
to
tell
you
things
,
"
said
Marjorie
.
"
What
are
we
to
do
?
"
...
.
He
tried
afterwards
to
retrace
that
conversation
.
He
was
chiefly
ashamed
of
his
scientific
preoccupations
during
that
London
interval
.
He
had
thought
of
a
thousand
things
;
Marjorie
had
thought
of
nothing
else
but
love
and
him
.
Her
happy
assurance
,
her
absolute
confidence
that
his
desires
would
march
with
hers
,
reproached
and
confuted
every
adverse
thought
in
him
as
though
it
was
a
treachery
to
love
.
He
had
that
sense
which
I
suppose
comes
at
times
to
every
man
,
of
entire
unworthiness
for
the
straight
,
unhesitating
decision
,
the
clear
simplicity
of
a
woman
's
passion
.
He
had
dreamt
vaguely
,
unsubstantially
,
the
while
he
had
arranged
his
pressures
and
temperatures
and
infinitesimal
ingredients
,
and
worked
with
goniometer
and
trial
models
and
the
new
calculating
machine
he
had
contrived
for
his
research
.
But
she
had
thought
clearly
,
definitely
,
fully
—
of
nothing
but
coming
to
him
.
She
had
thought
out
everything
that
bore
upon
that
;
reasons
for
preciptance
,
reasons
for
delay
,
she
had
weighed
the
rewards
of
conformity
against
the
glamour
of
romance
.
It
became
more
and
more
clear
to
him
as
they
talked
,
that
she
was
determined
to
elope
with
him
,
to
go
to
Italy
,
and
there
have
an
extraordinarily
picturesque
and
beautiful
time
.
Her
definiteness
shamed
his
poverty
of
anticipation
.
Her
enthusiasm
carried
him
with
her
.
Of
course
it
was
so
that
things
must
be
done
...
.
When
at
last
they
parted
under
the
multiplying
lamps
of
the
November
twilight
,
he
turned
his
face
eastward
.
He
was
afraid
of
his
mother
's
eyes
—
he
scarcely
knew
why
.
He
walked
along
Kensington
Gore
,
and
the
clustering
confused
lights
of
street
and
house
,
white
and
golden
and
orange
and
pale
lilac
,
the
moving
lamps
and
shining
glitter
of
the
traffic
,
the
luminous
interiors
of
omnibuses
,
the
reflection
of
carriage
and
hoarding
,
the
fading
daylight
overhead
,
the
phantom
trees
to
the
left
,
the
deepening
shadows
and
blacknesses
among
the
houses
on
his
right
,
the
bobbing
heads
of
wayfarers
,
were
just
for
him
the
stir
and
hue
and
texture
of
fairyland
.
All
the
world
was
fairyland
.
He
went
to
his
club
and
dined
there
,
and
divided
the
evening
between
geography
,
as
it
is
condensed
in
Baedeker
and
Murray
on
North
Italy
,
Italian
Switzerland
and
the
Italian
Riviera
,
and
a
study
of
the
marriage
laws
as
they
are
expounded
in
"
Whitaker
's
Almanac
,
"
the
"
Encyclopædia
Britannica
,
"
and
other
convenient
works
of
reference
.
He
replaced
the
books
as
he
used
them
,
and
went
at
last
from
the
library
into
the
smoking-room
,
but
seeing
a
man
who
might
talk
to
him
there
,
he
went
out
at
once
into
the
streets
,
and
fetched
a
wide
compass
by
Baker
Street
,
Oxford
Street
,
and
Hyde
Park
,
home
.
He
was
a
little
astonished
at
himself
and
everything
.
But
it
was
going
to
be
—
splendid
.
(
What
poor
things
words
can
be
!
)
He
found
his
mother
still
up
.
She
had
been
re-reading
"
The
Old
Wives
'
Tale
,
"
and
she
sat
before
a
ruddy
fire
in
the
shadow
beyond
the
lit
circle
of
a
green-shaded
electric
light
thinking
,
with
the
book
put
aside
.
In
the
dimness
above
was
his
father
's
portrait
.
"
Time
you
were
in
bed
,
mother
,
"
he
said
reprovingly
,
and
kissed
her
eyebrow
and
stood
above
her
.
"
What
's
the
book
?
"
he
asked
,
and
picked
it
up
and
put
it
down
,
forgotten
.
Their
eyes
met
.
She
perceived
he
had
something
to
say
;
she
did
not
know
what
.
"
Where
have
you
been
?
"
she
asked
.
He
told
her
,
and
they
lapsed
into
silence
.
She
asked
another
question
and
he
answered
her
,
and
the
indifferent
conversation
ended
again
.
The
silence
lengthened
.
Then
he
plunged
:
"
I
wonder
,
mother
,
if
it
would
put
you
out
very
much
if
I
brought
home
a
wife
to
you
?
"
So
it
had
come
to
this
—
and
she
had
not
seen
it
coming
.
She
looked
into
the
glowing
recesses
of
the
fire
before
her
and
controlled
her
voice
by
an
effort
.
"
I
'd
be
glad
for
you
to
do
it
,
dear
—
if
you
loved
her
,
"
she
said
very
quietly
.
He
stared
down
at
her
for
a
moment
;
then
he
knelt
down
beside
her
and
took
her
hand
and
kissed
it
.
"
My
dear
,
"
she
whispered
softly
,
stroking
his
head
,
and
her
tears
came
streaming
.
For
a
time
they
said
no
more
.
Presently
he
put
coal
on
the
fire
,
and
then
sitting
on
the
hearthrug
at
her
feet
and
looking
away
from
her
into
the
flames
—
in
an
attitude
that
took
her
back
to
his
boyhood
—
he
began
to
tell
her
brokenly
and
awkwardly
of
Marjorie
.
"
It
's
so
hard
,
mother
,
to
explain
these
things
,
"
he
began
.
"
One
does
n't
half
understand
the
things
that
are
happening
to
one
.
I
want
to
make
you
in
love
with
her
,
dear
,
just
as
I
am
.
And
I
do
n't
see
how
I
can
.
"
"
Perhaps
I
shall
understand
,
my
dear
.
Perhaps
I
shall
understand
better
than
you
think
.
"
"
She
's
such
a
beautiful
thing
—
with
something
about
her
—
—
.
You
know
those
steel
blades
you
can
bend
back
to
the
hilt
—
and
they
're
steel
!
And
she
's
tender
.
It
's
as
if
someone
had
taken
tears
,
mother
,
and
made
a
spirit
out
of
them
—
—
"
She
caressed
and
stroked
his
hand
.
"
My
dear
,
"
she
said
,
"
I
know
.
"
"
And
a
sort
of
dancing
daring
in
her
eyes
.
"
"
Yes
,
"
she
said
.
"
But
tell
me
where
she
comes
from
,
and
how
you
met
her
—
and
all
the
circumstantial
things
that
a
sensible
old
woman
can
understand
.
"
He
kissed
her
hand
and
sat
down
beside
her
,
with
his
shoulder
against
the
arm
of
her
chair
,
his
fingers
interlaced
about
his
knee
.
She
could
not
keep
her
touch
from
his
hair
,
and
she
tried
to
force
back
the
thought
in
her
mind
that
all
these
talks
must
end
,
that
very
soon
indeed
they
would
end
.
And
she
was
glad
,
full
of
pride
and
joy
too
that
her
son
was
a
lover
after
her
heart
,
a
clean
and
simple
lover
as
his
father
had
been
before
him
.
He
loved
this
unknown
Marjorie
,
finely
,
sweetly
,
bravely
,
even
as
she
herself
could
have
desired
to
have
been
loved
.
She
told
herself
she
did
not
care
very
greatly
even
if
this
Marjorie
should
prove
unworthy
.
So
long
as
her
son
was
not
unworthy
.
He
pieced
his
story
together
.
He
gave
her
a
picture
of
the
Popes
,
Marjorie
in
her
family
like
a
jewel
in
an
ugly
setting
,
so
it
seemed
to
him
,
and
the
queer
dull
rage
of
her
father
and
all
that
they
meant
to
do
.
She
tried
to
grasp
his
perplexities
and
advise
,
but
chiefly
she
was
filled
with
the
thought
that
he
was
in
love
.
If
he
wanted
a
girl
he
should
have
her
,
and
if
he
had
to
take
her
by
force
,
well
,
was
n't
it
his
right
?
She
set
small
store
upon
the
Popes
that
night
—
or
any
circumstances
.
And
since
she
herself
had
married
on
the
slightest
of
security
,
she
was
concerned
very
little
that
this
great
adventure
was
to
be
attempted
on
an
income
of
a
few
hundreds
a
year
.
It
was
outside
her
philosophy
that
a
wife
should
be
anything
but
glad
to
tramp
the
roads
if
need
be
with
the
man
who
loved
her
.
He
sketched
out
valiant
plans
,
was
for
taking
Marjorie
away
in
the
teeth
of
all
opposition
and
bringing
her
back
to
London
.
It
would
have
to
be
done
decently
,
of
course
,
but
it
would
have
,
he
thought
,
to
be
done
.
Mrs.
Trafford
found
the
prospect
perfect
;
never
before
had
he
sounded
and
looked
so
like
that
dim
figure
which
hung
still
and
sympathetic
above
them
.
Ever
and
again
she
glanced
up
at
her
husband
's
quiet
face
...
.
On
one
point
she
was
very
clear
with
him
.
"
You
'll
live
with
us
,
mother
?
"
he
said
abruptly
.
"
Not
with
you
.
As
near
as
you
like
.
But
one
house
,
one
woman
...
.
I
'll
have
a
little
flat
of
my
own
—
for
you
both
to
come
to
me
.
"
"
Oh
,
nonsense
,
mother
!
You
'll
have
to
be
with
us
.
Living
alone
,
indeed
!
"
"
My
dear
,
I
'd
prefer
a
flat
of
my
own
.
You
do
n't
understand
—
everything
.
It
will
be
better
for
all
of
us
like
that
.
"
There
came
a
little
pause
between
them
,
and
then
her
hand
was
on
his
head
again
.
"
Oh
,
my
dear
,
"
she
said
,
"
I
want
you
to
be
happy
.
And
life
can
be
difficult
.
I
wo
n't
give
a
chance
—
for
things
to
go
wrong
.
You
're
hers
,
dear
,
and
you
've
got
to
be
hers
—
be
each
other
's
altogether
.
I
've
watched
so
many
people
.
And
that
's
the
best
,
the
very
best
you
can
have
.
There
's
just
the
lovers
—
the
real
enduring
lovers
;
and
the
uncompleted
people
who
've
failed
to
find
it
.
"
...
Trafford
's
second
meeting
with
Marjorie
,
which
,
by
the
by
,
happened
on
the
afternoon
of
the
following
day
,
brought
them
near
to
conclusive
decisions
.
The
stiffness
of
their
first
encounter
in
London
had
altogether
vanished
.
She
was
at
her
prettiest
and
in
the
highest
spirits
—
and
she
did
n't
care
for
anything
else
in
the
world
.
A
gauzy
silk
scarf
which
she
had
bought
and
not
paid
for
that
day
floated
atmospherically
about
her
straight
trim
body
;
her
hair
had
caught
the
infection
of
insurrection
and
was
waving
rebelliously
about
her
ears
.
As
he
drew
near
her
his
grave
discretion
passed
from
him
as
clouds
pass
from
a
hillside
.
She
smiled
radiantly
.
He
held
out
both
his
hands
for
both
of
hers
,
and
never
did
a
maiden
come
so
near
and
yet
not
get
a
public
and
shameless
kissing
.
One
could
as
soon
describe
music
as
tell
their
conversation
.
It
was
a
matter
of
tones
and
feelings
.
But
the
idea
of
flight
together
,
of
the
bright
awakening
in
unfamiliar
sunshine
with
none
to
come
between
them
,
had
gripped
them
both
.
A
certain
sober
gravity
of
discussion
only
masked
that
deeper
inebriety
.
It
would
be
easy
for
them
to
get
away
;
he
had
no
lectures
until
February
;
he
could
,
he
said
,
make
arrangements
,
leave
his
research
.
She
dreaded
disputation
.
She
was
for
a
simple
disappearance
,
notes
on
pincushions
and
defiantly
apologetic
letters
from
Boulogne
,
but
his
mother
's
atmosphere
had
been
a
gentler
one
than
her
home
's
,
with
a
more
powerful
disposition
to
dignity
.
He
still
could
n't
understand
that
the
cantankerous
egotism
of
Pope
was
indeed
the
essential
man
;
it
seemed
to
him
a
crust
of
bad
manners
that
reason
ought
to
pierce
.
The
difference
in
their
atmospheres
came
out
in
their
talk
—
in
his
desire
for
a
handsome
and
dignified
wedding
—
though
the
very
heavens
protested
—
and
her
resolve
to
cut
clear
of
every
one
,
to
achieve
a
sort
of
gaol
delivery
of
her
life
,
make
a
new
beginning
altogether
,
with
the
minimum
of
friction
and
the
maximum
of
surprise
.
Unused
to
fighting
,
he
was
magnificently
prepared
to
fight
;
she
,
with
her
intimate
knowledge
of
chronic
domestic
conflict
,
was
for
the
evasion
of
all
the
bickerings
,
scoldings
,
and
misrepresentations
his
challenge
would
occasion
.
He
thought
in
his
innocence
a
case
could
be
stated
and
discussed
;
but
no
family
discussion
she
had
ever
heard
had
even
touched
the
realities
of
the
issue
that
occasioned
it
.
"
I
do
n't
like
this
underhand
preparation
,
"
he
said
.
"
Nor
I
,
"
she
echoed
.
"
But
what
can
one
do
?
"
"
Well
,
ought
n't
I
to
go
to
your
father
and
give
him
a
chance
?
Why
should
n't
I
?
It
's
—
the
dignified
way
.
"
"
It
wo
n't
be
dignified
for
father
,
"
said
Marjorie
,
"
anyhow
.
"
"
But
what
right
has
he
to
object
?
"
"
He
is
n't
going
to
discuss
his
rights
with
you
.
He
will
object
.
"
"
But
why
?
"
"
Oh
!
because
he
's
started
that
way
.
He
hit
you
.
I
have
n't
forgotten
it
.
Well
,
if
he
goes
back
on
that
now
—
—
He
'd
rather
die
than
go
back
on
it
.
You
see
,
he
's
ashamed
in
his
heart
.
It
would
be
like
confessing
himself
wrong
not
to
keep
it
up
that
you
're
the
sort
of
man
one
hits
.
He
just
hates
you
because
he
hit
you
.
I
have
n't
been
his
daughter
for
twenty-one
years
for
nothing
.
"
"
I
'm
thinking
of
us
,
"
said
Trafford
.
"
I
do
n't
see
we
ought
n't
to
go
to
him
just
because
he
's
likely
to
be
—
unreasonable
.
"
"
My
dear
,
do
as
you
please
.
He
'll
forbid
and
shout
,
and
hit
tables
until
things
break
.
Suppose
he
locks
me
up
!
"
"
Oh
,
Habeas
Corpus
,
and
my
strong
right
arm
!
He
's
much
more
likely
to
turn
you
out-of-doors
.
"
"
Not
if
he
thinks
the
other
will
annoy
you
more
.
I
'll
have
to
bear
a
storm
.
"
"
Not
for
long
.
"
"
He
'll
bully
mother
till
she
cries
over
me
.
But
do
as
you
please
.
She
'll
come
and
she
'll
beg
me
—
—
Do
as
you
please
.
Perhaps
I
'm
a
coward
.
I
'd
far
rather
I
could
slip
away
.
"
Trafford
thought
for
a
moment
.
"
I
'd
far
rather
you
could
,
"
he
answered
,
in
a
voice
that
spoke
of
inflexible
determinations
.
They
turned
to
the
things
they
meant
to
do
.
"
Italy
!
"
she
whispered
,
"
Italy
!
"
Her
face
was
alight
with
her
burning
expectation
of
beauty
,
of
love
,
of
the
new
heaven
and
the
new
earth
that
lay
before
them
.
The
intensity
of
that
desire
blazing
through
her
seemed
to
shame
his
dull
discretions
.
He
had
to
cling
to
his
resolution
,
lest
it
should
vanish
in
that
contagious
intoxication
.
"
You
understand
I
shall
come
to
your
father
,
"
he
said
,
as
they
drew
near
the
gate
where
it
seemed
discreet
for
them
to
part
.
"
It
will
make
it
harder
to
get
away
,
"
she
said
,
with
no
apparent
despondency
.
"
It
wo
n't
stop
us
.
Oh
!
do
as
you
please
.
"
She
seemed
to
dismiss
the
question
,
and
stood
hand-in-hand
with
him
in
a
state
of
glowing
gravity
.
She
would
n't
see
him
again
for
four-and-twenty
hours
.
Then
a
thought
came
into
her
head
—
a
point
of
great
practical
moment
.
"
Oh
!
"
she
said
,
"
of
course
,
you
wo
n't
tell
father
you
've
seen
me
.
"
She
met
his
eye
.
"
Really
you
must
n't
,
"
she
said
.
"
You
see
—
he
'll
make
a
row
with
mother
for
not
having
watched
me
better
.
I
do
n't
know
what
he
is
n't
likely
to
do
.
It
is
n't
myself
—
—
This
is
a
confidential
communication
—
all
this
.
No
one
in
this
world
knows
I
am
meeting
you
.
If
you
must
go
to
him
,
go
to
him
.
"
"
For
myself
?
"
She
nodded
,
with
her
open
eyes
on
his
—
eyes
that
looked
now
very
blue
and
very
grave
,
and
her
lips
a
little
apart
.
She
surprised
him
a
little
,
but
even
this
sudden
weakness
seemed
adorable
.
"
All
right
,
"
he
said
.
"
You
do
n't
think
that
I
'm
shirking
—
—
?
"
she
asked
,
a
little
too
eagerly
.
"
You
know
your
father
best
,
"
he
answered
.
"
I
'll
tell
you
all
he
says
and
all
the
terror
of
him
here
to-morrow
afternoon
.
"
In
the
stillness
of
the
night
Trafford
found
himself
thinking
over
Marjorie
;
it
was
a
new
form
of
mental
exercise
,
which
was
destined
to
play
a
large
part
in
his
existence
for
many
subsequent
years
.
There
had
come
a
shadow
on
his
confidence
in
her
.
She
was
a
glorious
person
;
she
had
a
kind
of
fire
behind
her
and
in
her
—
shining
through
her
,
like
the
lights
in
a
fire-opal
,
but
—
—
He
wished
she
had
not
made
him
promise
to
conceal
their
meeting
and
their
close
co-operation
from
her
father
.
Why
did
she
do
that
?
It
would
spoil
his
case
with
her
father
,
and
it
could
forward
things
for
them
in
no
conceivable
way
.
And
from
that
,
in
some
manner
too
subtle
to
trace
,
he
found
his
mind
wandering
to
another
problem
,
which
was
destined
to
reappear
with
a
slowly
dwindling
importance
very
often
in
this
procedure
of
thinking
over
Marjorie
in
the
small
hours
.
It
was
the
riddle
—
it
never
came
to
him
in
the
daytime
,
but
only
in
those
intercalary
and
detachedly
critical
periods
of
thought
—
why
exactly
had
she
engaged
herself
to
Magnet
?
Why
had
she
?
He
could
n't
imagine
himself
,
in
Marjorie
's
position
,
doing
anything
of
the
sort
.
Marjorie
had
ways
of
her
own
;
she
was
different
...
.
Well
,
anyhow
,
she
was
splendid
and
loving
and
full
of
courage
...
.
He
had
got
no
further
than
this
when
at
last
he
fell
asleep
.
Trafford
's
little
attempt
to
regularise
his
position
was
as
creditable
to
him
as
it
was
inevitably
futile
.
He
sought
out
29
,
Hartstone
Square
in
the
morning
on
his
way
to
his
laboratory
,
and
he
found
it
one
of
a
great
row
of
stucco
houses
each
with
a
portico
and
a
dining-room
window
on
the
ground
floor
,
and
each
with
a
railed
area
from
which
troglodytic
servants
peeped
.
Collectively
the
terrace
might
claim
a
certain
ugly
dignity
of
restraint
,
there
was
none
of
your
Queen
Anne
nonsense
of
art
or
beauty
about
it
,
and
the
narrow
height
,
the
subterranean
kitchens
of
each
constituent
house
,
told
of
a
steep
relentless
staircase
and
the
days
before
the
pampering
of
the
lower
classes
began
.
The
houses
formed
a
square
,
as
if
the
British
square
so
famous
at
Waterloo
for
its
dogged
resistance
to
all
the
forces
of
the
universe
had
immortalized
itself
in
buildings
,
and
they
stared
upon
a
severely
railed
garden
of
hardy
shrubs
and
gravel
to
which
the
tenants
had
the
inestimable
privilege
of
access
.
They
did
not
use
it
much
,
that
was
their
affair
,
but
at
any
rate
they
had
keys
and
a
nice
sense
of
rights
assured
,
and
at
least
it
kept
other
people
out
.
Trafford
turned
out
of
a
busy
high
road
full
of
the
mixed
exhilarating
traffic
of
our
time
,
and
came
along
a
quiet
street
into
this
place
,
and
it
seemed
to
him
he
had
come
into
a
corner
of
defence
and
retreat
,
into
an
atmosphere
of
obstinate
and
unteachable
resistances
.
But
this
illusion
of
conservativism
in
its
last
ditch
was
dispelled
altogether
in
Mr.
Pope
's
portico
.
Youth
flashed
out
of
these
solemnities
like
a
dart
shot
from
a
cave
.
Trafford
was
raising
his
hand
to
the
solid
brass
knocker
when
abruptly
it
was
snatched
from
his
fingers
,
the
door
was
flung
open
and
a
small
boy
with
a
number
of
dirty
books
in
a
strap
flew
out
and
hit
him
with
projectile
violence
.
"
Blow
!
"
said
the
young
gentleman
recoiling
,
and
Trafford
recovering
said
:
"
Hullo
,
Theodore
!
"
"
Lord
!
"
said
Theodore
breathless
,
"
It
's
you
!
What
a
lark
!
Your
name
's
never
mentioned
—
no
how
.
What
did
you
do
?
...
Wish
I
could
stop
and
see
it
!
I
'm
ten
minutes
late
.
Ave
atque
vale
.
So
long
!
"
He
vanished
with
incredible
velocity
.
And
Mr.
Trafford
was
alone
in
possession
of
the
open
doorway
except
for
Toupee
,
who
after
a
violent
outbreak
of
hostility
altered
his
mind
and
cringed
to
his
feet
in
abject
and
affectionate
propitiation
.
A
pseudo-twin
appeared
,
said
"
Hello
!
"
and
vanished
,
and
then
he
had
an
instant
's
vision
of
Mr.
Pope
,
newspaper
in
hand
,
appearing
from
the
dining-room
.
His
expression
of
surprise
changed
to
malevolence
,
and
he
darted
back
into
the
room
from
which
he
had
emerged
.
Trafford
decided
to
take
the
advice
of
a
small
brass
plate
on
his
left
hand
,
and
"
ring
also
.
"
A
housemaid
came
out
of
the
bowels
of
the
earth
very
promptly
and
ushered
him
up
two
flights
of
stairs
into
what
was
manifestly
Mr.
Pope
's
study
.
It
was
a
narrow
,
rather
dark
room
lit
by
two
crimson-curtained
windows
,
and
with
a
gas
fire
before
which
Mr.
Pope
's
walking
boots
were
warming
for
the
day
.
The
apartment
revealed
to
Trafford
's
cursory
inspection
many
of
the
stigmata
of
an
Englishman
of
active
intelligence
and
literary
tastes
.
There
in
the
bookcase
were
the
collected
works
of
Scott
,
a
good
large
illustrated
Shakespeare
in
numerous
volumes
,
and
a
complete
set
of
bound
Punches
from
the
beginning
.
A
pile
of
back
numbers
of
the
Times
stood
on
a
cane
stool
in
a
corner
,
and
in
a
little
bookcase
handy
for
the
occupier
of
the
desk
were
Whitaker
,
Wisden
and
an
old
peerage
.
The
desk
bore
traces
of
recent
epistolary
activity
,
and
was
littered
with
the
printed
matter
of
Aunt
Plessington
's
movements
.
Two
or
three
recent
issues
of
The
Financial
Review
of
Reviews
were
also
visible
.
About
the
room
hung
steel
engravings
apparently
of
defunct
judges
or
at
any
rate
of
exceedingly
grim
individuals
,
and
over
the
mantel
were
trophies
of
athletic
prowess
,
a
bat
witnessing
that
Mr.
Pope
had
once
captained
the
second
eleven
at
Harrogby
.
Mr.
Pope
entered
with
a
stern
expression
and
a
sentence
prepared
.
"
Well
,
sir
,
"
he
said
with
a
note
of
ironical
affability
,
"
to
what
may
I
ascribe
this
—
intrusion
?
"
Mr.
Trafford
was
about
to
reply
when
Mr.
Pope
interrupted
.
"
Will
you
be
seated
,
"
he
said
,
and
turned
his
desk
chair
about
for
himself
,
and
occupying
it
,
crossed
his
legs
and
pressed
the
finger
tips
of
his
two
hands
together
.
"
Well
,
sir
?
"
he
said
.
Trafford
remained
standing
astraddle
over
the
boots
before
the
gas
fire
.
"
Look
here
,
sir
,
"
he
said
;
"
I
am
in
love
with
your
daughter
.
She
's
one
and
twenty
,
and
I
want
to
see
her
—
and
in
fact
—
—
"
He
found
it
hard
to
express
himself
.
He
could
think
only
of
a
phrase
that
sounded
ridiculous
.
"
I
want
—
in
fact
—
to
pay
my
addresses
to
her
.
"
"
Well
,
sir
,
I
do
n't
want
you
to
do
so
.
That
is
too
mild
.
I
object
strongly
—
very
strongly
.
My
daughter
has
been
engaged
to
a
very
distinguished
and
able
man
,
and
I
hope
very
shortly
to
hear
that
that
engagement
—
—
Practically
it
is
still
going
on
.
I
do
n't
want
you
to
intrude
upon
my
daughter
further
.
"
"
But
look
here
,
sir
.
There
's
a
certain
justice
—
I
mean
a
certain
reasonableness
—
—
"
Mr.
Pope
held
out
an
arresting
hand
.
"
I
do
n't
wish
it
.
Let
that
be
enough
.
"
"
Of
course
it
is
n't
enough
.
I
'm
in
love
with
her
—
and
she
with
me
.
I
'm
an
entirely
reputable
and
decent
person
—
—
"
"
May
I
be
allowed
to
judge
what
is
or
is
not
suitable
companionship
for
my
daughter
—
and
what
may
or
may
not
be
the
present
state
of
her
affections
?
"
"
Well
,
that
's
rather
the
point
we
are
discussing
.
After
all
,
Marjorie
is
n't
a
baby
.
I
want
to
do
all
this
—
this
affair
,
openly
and
properly
if
I
can
,
but
,
you
know
,
I
mean
to
marry
Marjorie
—
anyhow
.
"
"
There
are
two
people
to
consult
in
that
matter
.
"
"
I
'll
take
the
risk
of
that
.
"
"
Permit
me
to
differ
.
"
A
feeling
of
helplessness
came
over
Trafford
.
The
curious
irritation
Mr.
Pope
always
roused
in
him
began
to
get
the
better
of
him
.
His
face
flushed
hotly
.
"
Oh
really
!
really
!
this
is
—
this
is
nonsense
!
"
he
cried
.
"
I
never
heard
anything
so
childish
and
pointless
as
your
objection
—
—
"
"
Be
careful
,
sir
!
"
cried
Mr.
Pope
,
"
be
careful
!
"
"
I
'm
going
to
marry
Marjorie
.
"
"
If
she
marries
you
,
sir
,
she
shall
never
darken
my
doors
again
!
"
"
If
you
had
a
thing
against
me
!
"
"
Have
n't
I
!
"
"
What
have
you
?
"
There
was
a
quite
perceptible
pause
before
Pope
fired
his
shot
.
"
Does
any
decent
man
want
the
name
of
Trafford
associated
with
his
daughter
.
Trafford
!
Look
at
the
hoardings
,
sir
!
"
A
sudden
blaze
of
anger
lit
Trafford
.
"
My
God
!
"
he
cried
and
clenched
his
fists
and
seemed
for
a
moment
ready
to
fall
upon
the
man
before
him
.
Then
he
controlled
himself
by
a
violent
effort
.
"
You
believe
in
that
libel
on
my
dead
father
?
"
he
said
,
with
white
lips
.
"
Has
it
ever
been
answered
?
"
"
A
hundred
times
.
And
anyhow
!
—
Confound
it
!
I
do
n't
believe
—
you
believe
it
.
You
've
raked
it
up
—
as
an
excuse
!
You
want
an
excuse
for
your
infernal
domestic
tyranny
!
That
's
the
truth
of
it
.
You
ca
n't
bear
a
creature
in
your
household
to
have
a
will
or
preference
of
her
own
.
I
tell
you
,
sir
,
you
are
intolerable
—
intolerable
!
"
He
was
shouting
,
and
Pope
was
standing
now
and
shouting
too
.
"
Leave
my
house
,
sir
.
Get
out
of
my
house
,
sir
.
You
come
here
to
insult
me
,
sir
!
"
A
sudden
horror
of
himself
and
Pope
seized
the
younger
man
.
He
stiffened
and
became
silent
.
Never
in
his
life
before
had
he
been
in
a
bawling
quarrel
.
He
was
amazed
and
ashamed
.
"
Leave
my
house
!
"
cried
Pope
with
an
imperious
gesture
towards
the
door
.
Trafford
made
an
absurd
effort
to
save
the
situation
.
"
I
am
sorry
,
sir
,
I
lost
my
temper
.
I
had
no
business
to
abuse
you
—
—
"
"
You
've
said
enough
.
"
"
I
apologise
for
that
.
I
've
done
what
I
could
to
manage
things
decently
.
"
"
Will
you
go
,
sir
?
"
threatened
Mr.
Pope
.
"
I
'm
sorry
I
came
,
"
said
Trafford
.
Mr.
Pope
took
his
stand
with
folded
arms
and
an
expression
of
weary
patience
.
"
I
did
what
I
could
,
"
said
Trafford
at
the
door
.
The
staircase
and
passage
were
deserted
.
The
whole
house
seemed
to
have
caught
from
Mr.
Pope
that
same
quality
of
seeing
him
out
...
.
"
Confound
it
!
"
said
Trafford
in
the
street
.
"
How
on
earth
did
all
this
happen
?
"
...
He
turned
eastward
,
and
then
realized
that
work
would
be
impossible
that
day
.
He
changed
his
direction
for
Kensington
Gardens
,
and
in
the
flower-bordered
walk
near
the
Albert
Memorial
he
sat
down
on
a
chair
,
and
lugged
at
his
moustache
and
wondered
.
He
was
extraordinarily
perplexed
,
as
well
as
ashamed
and
enraged
by
this
uproar
.
How
had
it
begun
?
Of
course
,
he
had
been
stupidly
abusive
,
but
the
insult
to
his
father
had
been
unendurable
.
Did
a
man
of
Pope
's
sort
quite
honestly
believe
that
stuff
?
If
he
did
n't
,
he
deserved
kicking
.
If
he
did
,
of
course
he
was
entitled
to
have
it
cleared
up
.
But
then
he
would
n't
listen
!
Was
there
any
case
for
the
man
at
all
?
Had
he
,
Trafford
,
really
put
the
thing
so
that
Pope
would
listen
?
He
could
n't
remember
.
What
was
it
he
had
said
in
reply
to
Pope
?
What
was
it
exactly
that
Pope
had
said
?
It
was
already
vague
;
it
was
a
confused
memory
of
headlong
words
and
answers
;
what
was
n't
vague
,
what
rang
in
his
ears
still
,
was
the
hoarse
discord
of
two
shouting
voices
.
Could
Marjorie
have
heard
?
So
Marjorie
carried
her
point
.
She
was
n't
to
be
married
tamely
after
the
common
fashion
which
trails
home
and
all
one
's
beginnings
into
the
new
life
.
She
was
to
be
eloped
with
,
romantically
and
splendidly
,
into
a
glorious
new
world
.
She
walked
on
shining
clouds
,
and
if
she
felt
some
remorse
,
it
was
a
very
tender
and
satisfactory
remorse
,
and
with
a
clear
conviction
below
it
that
in
the
end
she
would
be
forgiven
.
They
made
all
their
arrangements
elaborately
and
carefully
.
Trafford
got
a
license
to
marry
her
;
she
was
to
have
a
new
outfit
from
top
to
toe
to
go
away
with
on
that
eventful
day
.
It
accumulated
in
the
shop
,
and
they
marked
the
clothes
M.T.
She
was
watched
,
she
imagined
,
but
as
her
father
did
not
know
she
had
seen
Trafford
,
nothing
had
been
said
to
her
,
and
no
attempt
was
made
to
prohibit
her
going
out
and
coming
in
.
Trafford
entered
into
the
conspiracy
with
a
keen
interest
,
a
certain
amusement
,
and
a
queer
little
feeling
of
distaste
.
He
hated
to
hide
any
act
of
his
from
any
human
being
.
The
very
soul
of
scientific
work
,
you
see
,
is
publication
.
But
Marjorie
seemed
to
justify
all
things
,
and
when
his
soul
turned
against
furtiveness
,
he
reminded
it
that
the
alternative
was
bawling
.
One
eventful
afternoon
he
went
to
the
college
,
and
Marjorie
slipped
round
by
his
arrangement
to
have
tea
with
Mrs.
Trafford
...
.
He
returned
about
seven
in
a
state
of
nervous
apprehension
;
came
upstairs
two
steps
at
a
time
,
and
stopped
breathless
on
the
landing
.
He
gulped
as
he
came
in
,
and
his
eyes
were
painfully
eager
.
"
She
's
been
?
"
he
asked
.
But
Marjorie
had
won
Mrs.
Trafford
.
"
She
's
been
,
"
she
answered
.
"
Yes
,
she
's
all
right
,
my
dear
.
"
"
Oh
,
mother
!
"
he
said
.
"
She
's
a
beautiful
creature
,
dear
—
and
such
a
child
!
Oh
!
such
a
child
!
And
God
bless
you
,
dear
,
God
bless
you
...
.
"
I
think
all
young
people
are
children
.
I
want
to
take
you
both
in
my
arms
and
save
you
...
.
I
'm
talking
nonsense
,
dear
.
"
He
kissed
her
,
and
she
clung
to
him
as
if
he
were
something
too
precious
to
release
.
The
elopement
was
a
little
complicated
by
a
surprise
manœuvre
of
Mrs.
Pope
's
.
She
was
more
alive
to
the
quality
of
the
situation
,
poor
lady
!
than
her
daughter
suspected
;
she
was
watching
,
dreading
,
perhaps
even
furtively
sympathizing
and
trying
to
arrange
—
oh
!
trying
dreadfully
to
arrange
.
She
had
an
instinctive
understanding
of
the
deep
blue
quiet
in
Marjorie
's
eyes
,
and
the
girl
's
unusual
tenderness
with
Daffy
and
the
children
.
She
peeped
under
the
blind
as
Marjorie
went
out
,
noted
the
care
in
her
dress
,
watched
her
face
as
she
returned
,
never
plumbed
her
with
a
question
for
fear
of
the
answer
.
She
did
not
dare
to
breathe
a
hint
of
her
suspicions
to
her
husband
,
but
she
felt
things
were
adrift
in
swift
,
smooth
water
,
and
all
her
soul
cried
out
for
delay
.
So
presently
there
came
a
letter
from
Cousin
Susan
Pendexter
at
Plymouth
.
The
weather
was
beautiful
,
Marjorie
must
come
at
once
,
pack
up
and
come
and
snatch
the
last
best
glow
of
the
dying
autumn
away
there
in
the
west
.
Marjorie
's
jerry-built
excuses
,
her
manifest
chagrin
and
reluctance
,
confirmed
her
mother
's
worst
suspicions
.
She
submitted
and
went
,
and
Mrs.
Pope
and
Syd
saw
her
off
.
I
do
not
like
to
tell
how
a
week
later
Marjorie
explained
herself
and
her
dressing-bag
and
a
few
small
articles
back
to
London
from
Plymouth
.
Suffice
it
that
she
lied
desperately
and
elaborately
.
Her
mother
had
never
achieved
such
miracles
of
mis-statement
,
and
she
added
a
vigour
that
was
all
her
own
.
