washanding
up
peaches
—
my
peaches
—
reserved
for
the
high
destiny
of
auntal
and
avuncular
palates
—
to
a
ruffian
with
a
basket
,
who
,
in
broad
day
,
only
one
big
garden
's
breadth
from
a
policeman-ferret
,
sat
astride
my
wall
.
Some
one
whistled
—
it
was
not
I
;
a
spring
,
a
swear
,
and
both
villains
vanished
as
if
by
magic
into
the
paddock
.
I
climbed
the
wall
;
they
had
disappeared
in
the
nettle-coverts
of
our
orchard
;
nor
,
when
I
threaded
those
coverts
,
could
I
run
them
to
earth
.
It
was
a
poor
consolation
to
return
,
my
feet
soaked
to
the
bone
through
my
tennis
shoes
,
to
count
the
peaches
and
to
find
that
the
despicable
outcasts
had
only
taken
fifteen
out
of
the
three
hundred
and
twenty-six
.
How
age
mellows
one
's
views
!
As
a
boy
I
never
could
understand
why
farmers
made
such
a
fuss
about
a
few
apples
or
plums
.
Now
,
all
the
land-owner
welled
up
within
me
,
and
I
understood
it
all
—
with
an
understanding
as
full
as
it
was
bitter
.
I
thought
of
netting
,
of
man-traps
,
of
a
fierce
bull-dog
,
of
men
with
guns
—
myself
and
Jim
by
turns
—
incessantly
patrolling
ling
my
garden
.
All
other
crimes
in
the
decalogue
might
,
I
felt
,
admit
of
some
valid
excuse
,
some
reasonable
explanation
.
But
breaking
the
eighth
commandment
—
and
with
peaches
—
my
peaches
—
it
was
intolerable
!
I
felt
myself
cut
off
once
and
forever
from
the
communion
of
school-boys
.
Villon
was
now
merely
despicable
to
me
.
I
forebore
to
fling
my
heavy
news
among
the
eggs
,
but
Yolande
came
that
evening
to
occupy
the
spare
room
,
and
at
dinner
I
judged
the
time
ripe
.
My
thrilling
narrative
fell
,
to
my
amazement
,
on
inattentive
ears
.
Chloe
,
whose
horror
and
reprobation
I
had
expected
to
exceed
even
my
own
,
merely
said
,
with
what
I
could
not
persuade
myself
was
a
calmness
assumed
to
temper
my
own
agitation
:
“
Oh
,
did
they
,
dear
?
How
horrid
of
them
!
”
and
absently
pressed
more
fish
on
me
.
I
withdrew
into
a
proud
reserve
.
When
,
with
a
studied
air
of
aloofness
,
I
had
carved
the
mutton
,
and
Mary
,
having
handed
the
plates
and
vegetables
,
left
the
room
,
Chloe
laid
down
her
fork
,
and
with
sparkling
eyes
turned
to
Yolande
.
“
Now
,
”
she
said
,
and
there
was
just
that
suppressed
fire
about
her
that
I
had
hoped
to
waken
by
my
tale
of
the
fruit-stealers
—
“
now
,
I
think
we
might
tell
him
.
You
tell
him
,
Yolande
,
because
it
's
your
doing
,
you
clever
,
intelligent
—
”
“
Spare
me
,
”
Yolande
interrupted
;
“
whatever
my
faults
may
be
,
I
'm
not
intelligent
.
That
's
what
the
police
always
are
when
they
ca
n't
find
out
the
murderer
.
”
“
Unintelligent
as
you
are
,
”
said
I
,
“
you
'll
perhaps
be
able
to
break
the
news
gently
.
My
nerves
are
unstrung
by
to-day
's
revelation
of
the
cynical
immorality
of
men
with
baskets
.
”
“
Tell
him
,
tell
him
,
”
urged
Chloe
,
impatiently
.
“
Len
,
you
're
like
Nero
,
talking
about
unimportant
things
when
—
No
,
nothing
's
burning
.
Yolande
,
if
you
do
n't
tell
him
I
shall
.
”
“
It
's
nothing
,
”
said
Yolande
,
nonchalantly
,
crumbling
her
bread
and
looking
down
so
as
to
express
indifference
with
her
eyelashes
—
a
very
graceful
accomplishment
.
“
It
's
really
nothing
—
only
you
gave
me
carte
blanche
as
your
land
agent
,
and
I
've
let
the
big
cottage
for
you
—
not
Prosser
's
—
the
one
on
the
other
side
.
”
“
You
have
?
Chloe
,
I
know
it
seems
the
basest
ingratitude
to
Yolande
,
but
—
think
of
Prosser
,
fairest
of
land
agents
,
and
tell
me
frankly
,
has
he
any
references
?
”
“
He
simply
bristles
with
them
.
His
bank
,
Coutts
's
,
and
his
father
,
a
cotton-broker
of
absolute
eminence
,
were
enough
for
me
.
”
“
But
where
did
you
catch
him
?
The
sons
of
cotton-brokers
with
balances
at
Coutts
's
are
not
found
in
every
bush
.
How
did
you
do
it
?
”
“
C'est
tout
simple
.
I
advertised
.
You
never
thought
of
that
?
No.
Well
,
we
all
have
our
limitations
.
Chloe
,
if
you
let
him
throw
bread
at
me
I
shall
tell
the
tenant
the
house
is
unhealthy
,
and
he
wo
n't
take
it
.
I
advertised
,
he
answered
.
I
interviewed
the
bank
and
the
cottonbroker
,
—
incredibly
eminent
he
really
is
;
I
saw
it
at
once
.
The
man
himself
is
a
man
of
action
.
The
agreement
,
signed
,
lies
warm
at
this
moment
against
Chloe
's
heart
.
”
“
It
's
in
her
Gladstone
,
”
said
Chloe
.
“
The
man
moves
his
furniture
down
this
week
,
and
there
we
are
!
”
“
He
's
a
journalist
,
or
an
author
,
or
something
,
”
said
Chloe
.
“
I
expect
he
's
awfully
nice
.
Is
n't
she
a
genius
?
”
“
The
rent
's
a
minor
point
,
of
course
,
”
I
said
,
humbly
,
“
but
if
one
might
ask
?
”
“
The
rent
?
”
Chloe
jumped
up
from
her
chair
and
came
round
to
me
.
“
Oh
,
Len
,
what
impossibly
fortunate
people
we
are
!
Guess
the
rent
!
”
“
A
hundred
a
year
!
”
I
said
,
promptly
.
“
Do
n't
be
horrid
.
”
Chloe
's
disappointment
was
very
pretty
.
“
I
thought
you
'd
say
twenty
.
”
“
I
did
n't
dare
.
What
is
it
?
Fifteen
?
”
“
It
's
thirty-five
!
”
cried
my
wife
;
and
at
that
my
generous
heart
could
no
longer
forbear
,
and
I
toasted
Yolande
in
bottled
beer
.
When
the
enthusiasm
of
a
landlord
had
sobered
in
me
somewhat
,
I
led
the
talk
back
to
my
fruit-thief
—
to
my
secret
soul
still
the
most
interesting
possible
topic
,
because
he
was
my
find
;
the
tenant
was
merely
Yolande
's
.
And
by
skilful
tactics
I
presently
roused
Yolande
's
sympathies
.
The
tactics
were
quite
simple
.
I
asked
her
advice
.
At
once
the
affair
assumed
in
her
eyes
new
proportions
—
a
new
complexion
.
“
I
do
n't
know
,
”
she
said
,
knitting
her
brows
;
“
there
must
be
some
way
.
”
“
You
see
,
”
I
said
,
“
if
one
repaired
the
whole
wall
,
there
are
ladders
,
and
dark
nights
to
set
them
up
in
.
You
can
feel
peaches
in
the
dark
.
And
broken
bottles
can
be
overcome
by
sacks
of
straw
—
”
“
And
all
difficulties
by
a
little
thought
,
”
she
interrupted
,
with
that
superb
air
of
finality
which
I
equally
and
intensely
admire
and
detest
.
“
Well
,
I
'll
think
about
it
.
”
Yolande
was
not
allowed
to
help
at
all
in
the
organizing
of
the
house-warming
.
An
obedient
execution
of
Chloe
's
orders
was
all
that
was
permitted
her
.
And
when
I
saw
the
charming
docility
with
which
she
carried
these
out
,
and
her
rigorous
abstention
from
even
the
pointing
of
an
uninvited
finger
at
any
pie
of
Chloe
's
,
I
confess
that
I
was
humbled
and
abashed
,
as
in
the
presence
of
a
soul
greater
than
my
own
.
No
one
who
has
not
given
a
party
of
the
dimensions
of
ours
can
have
the
least
idea
of
the
Herculean
labors
involved
.
We
all
worked
like
galley-slaves
,
and
on
the
morning
before
the
party
but
little
provision
had
been
made
save
cakes
,
and
the
last
batch
of
these
were
burned
because
Chloe
,
who
had
undertaken
to
watch
their
baking
,
had
become
all
too
deeply
absorbed
in
the
French
cookery-book
's
recipe
for
soles
à
la
Normande
,
a
dish
which
we
had
neither
the
means
nor
the
skill
to
prepare
.
She
came
into
the
hall
where
Yolande
and
I
were
washing
the
best
dessert
service
,
—
for
so
large
a
party
all
plates
must
be
requisitioned
,
—
sank
on
to
a
chair
,
stuck
out
her
feet
straight
before
her
—
an
attitude
recognized
in
our
code
as
indicating
despair
—
and
said
:
“
It
's
no
use
;
you
'd
better
send
wires
to
put
them
all
off
.
The
beef
is
quite
the
wrong
shape
;
the
ham
is
nearly
raw
,
I
'm
certain
;
and
none
of
the
things
have
come
from
the
Stores
.
And
now
the
cakes
are
burned
!
”
“
Poor
little
King
Alfred
!
”
I
said
.
“
Never
mind
;
we
'll
worry
through
somehow
.
”
Do
I
wrong
Yolande
,
or
did
a
gleam
of
satisfaction
flash
through
the
downcast
lashes
of
eyes
ostensibly
busy
with
dish-washing
?
Did
she
really
say
to
herself
:
“
I
told
you
so
!
You
ca
n't
organize
worth
a
cent
,
either
of
you
”
?
I
hope
not
;
I
almost
think
not
.
But
,
after
all
,
most
of
us
are
human
,
and
why
not
Yolande
?
Anyhow
,
if
any
stirring
of
the
old
Adam
rose
at
that
moment
in
Yolande
,
it
was
fought
down
in
an
instant
,
and
she
was
imploring
Chloe
to
tell
her
what
to
do
—
to
let
her
run
up
to
town
for
the
Stores-things
—
anything
,
everything
,
rather
than
that
Chloe
should
be
worried
and
turn
her
hair
gray
before
its
time
.
At
this
,
the
absolutely
perfect
psychological
moment
,
a
shadow
fell
on
the
red
and
white
marble
from
a
figure
approaching
the
front
door
,
and
a
soft
voice
said
,
“
Mrs.
Bates
.
”
“
She
does
n't
live
here
,
”
said
Yolande
,
courteously
.
She
took
the
word
,
for
Chloe
,
on
the
verge
of
tears
,
sat
speechless
.
“
She
lives
at
the
first
cottage
on
the
way
to
the
station
.
”
“
I
know
,
”
said
the
soft
voice
,
betraying
in
its
fourth
word
the
charming
accent
of
the
dales
.
“
I
am
Mrs.
Bates
,
and
your
Mary
was
telling
me
you
were
having
a
party
,
and
I
thought
short-handed
as
likely
as
not
;
if
there
was
anything
I
could
do
—
I
lived
as
cook
before
I
was
married
—
”
The
situation
was
saved
,
and
it
was
Mrs.
Bates
who
saved
it
—
or
,
to
be
more
accurate
,
it
was
Mary
,
who
had
drawn
Mrs.
Bates
to
our
rescue
.
And
—
I
saw
it
in
Yolande
's
eyes
,
though
perhaps
it
was
not
there
—
it
was
really
Yolande
who
had
saved
the
situation
,
since
it
was
she
who
had
saved
to
us
Mary
.
Even
if
I
did
see
it
,
I
dare
not
grudge
Yolande
that
fleeting
triumph
.
Before
the
party
was
over
—
But
let
me
,
above
all
,
tell
my
tale
orderly
.
For
the
rest
of
that
day
Mrs.
Bates
and
Mary
wrought
,
unaided
,
in
the
kitchen
,
for
Chloe
,
in
the
abrupt
reaction
from
despair
,
became
suddenly
enlightened
as
to
a
far
more
important
matter
than
even
food
.
She
had
nothing
to
wear
,
save
yellow
,
which
Aunt
George
could
never
abide
,
and
pale
blue
,
in
which
Uncle
Bletherthwaite
always
remarked
how
washed-out
she
looked
.
So
the
rest
of
the
day
passed
in
washing
,
dyeing
,
and
ironing
her
primrose-colored
liberty
silk
.
The
dye
was
pale
pink
,
a
brilliant
scarlet
,
or
a
deep
crimson
,
according
to
the
measure
of
its
dilution
.
Several
minor
articles
were
irrevocably
ocably
ruined
,
and
gallons
of
ruddy
dye
stood
about
the
bath-room
in
pails
,
before
the
right
shade
of
delicate
pink
was
achieved
in
one
of
my
best
white
silk
ties
.
Then
the
primrose
gown
became
rose-colored
,
and
was
rinsed
and
dried
and
ironed
till
it
looked
like
a
newly
blown
hollyhock
blossom
.
“
I
wish
there
was
something
more
to
do
,
”
Chloe
said
,
sighing
;
“
it
does
seem
such
a
pity
to
waste
all
this
lovely
dye
.
”
My
cousin
,
an
experimental
chemist
,
had
given
me
the
dye
,
with
the
words
:
“
The
only
thing
is
,
it
's
such
a
pure
,
perfect
color
,
your
wife
will
want
to
dye
everything
in
the
house
with
it
.
Do
n't
let
her
!
”
Thus
forewarned
,
I
was
firm
,
and
I
carried
away
the
pails
.
Yolande
followed
me
,
begging
that
the
dye
might
not
be
thrown
away
.
She
would
find
a
use
for
it
.
So
I
put
it
in
the
tool-shed
among
the
rakes
and
forks
,
the
garden
syringe
,
and
the
grass-cutter
—
the
only
place
where
I
could
feel
sure
that
no
uncle
would
kick
it
over
inadvertently
,
no
aunt
absently
sit
down
on
it
.
And
now
it
was
the
day
of
the
house-warming
.
It
was
a
fine
day
,
and
,
acting
on
a
sudden
inspiration
,
Yolande
and
I
rode
over
to
Blackheath
on
our
bicycles
,
returning
laden
with
light
,
enormous
mous
parcels
.
They
were
colored
Chinese
lanterns
.
We
hung
them
from
the
trees
near
the
house
.
And
then
,
further
inspired
,
I
tore
off
for
more
,
and
we
strung
them
on
wires
and
made
the
house
beautiful
with
them
.
The
big
drawing-room
,
with
its
evergreen
garlands
,
its
little
white-draped
tables
,
sparkling
with
borrowed
glass
and
silver
,
its
bowls
of
radiant
dahlias
,
its
tall
green
glasses
of
Japanese
anemones
,
its
pinkshaded
candles
,
and
over
all
the
mellow
glow
of
the
many-colored
lanterns
,
was
a
picture
at
which
our
hearts
beat
high
with
pride
.
The
sideboard
groaned
(
it
really
did
groan
,
and
that
in
no
mere
commonplace
metaphorical
way
,
but
honestly
,
because
it
was
,
in
its
inmost
heart
,
only
packing-cases
)
beneath
the
weight
of
as
fine
a
cold
supper
as
any
aunt
could
wish
to
see
,
any
uncle
wish
to
eat
.
Chloe
's
pink
hollyhock
gown
was
an
exquisite
success
.
Yolande
's
was
like
a
white
hollyhock
bloom
.
All
was
ready
.
The
first
wheels
crushed
the
gravel
of
our
drive
.
The
first
uncle
was
relieved
of
his
great-coat
by
my
hands
,
the
first
aunt
escorted
by
Chloe
to
“
take
off
her
things
.
”
Aunts
will
not
dispense
with
personal
attendance
in
this
ceremony
.
Gradually
the
hall
filled
.
Ponderous
uncles
and
portly
aunts
occupied
the
heavier
chairs
.
Lean
aunts
and
uncles
stood
conversing
with
frosty
geniality
.
A
great-uncle
and
a
second-cousin
who
had
not
spoken
for
years
—
a
family
affair
about
a
trust
and
an
Australian
gold-mine
,
nothing
personally
discreditable
to
either
—
sank
their
old
feud
and
found
out
how
much
they
still
had
in
common
,
as
they
discussed
in
a
wheezy
undertone
the
extraordinary
extravagance
of
their
host
and
hostess
—
agreeing
almost
cordially
in
the
opinion
that
we
were
living
in
a
style
far
,
far
beyond
our
means
.
Cousins
of
every
degree
enthusiastically
compared
notes
as
to
the
difficulty
of
getting
to
our
house
.
Three
nice
nieces
and
a
manly
nephew
or
two
offered
conventional
amiabilities
to
their
elders
.
We
had
furnished
and
adorned
the
hall
,
and
no
one
,
we
felt
,
could
look
on
its
marble
floor
and
wainscoted
walls
without
feeling
himself
privileged
in
being
allowed
to
take
part
in
such
a
pageant
,
so
admirably
staged
.
My
aunt
George
objected
to
the
wainscot
as
dark
and
out
of
date
,
and
said
the
marble
floor
was
cold
to
the
feet
.
My
uncle
Reginald
agreed
with
her
,
but
added
handsomely
that
beggars
must
n't
be
choosers
,
and
no
doubt
we
were
wise
not
to
waste
our
money
on
carpets
.
Altogether
,
everything
was
going
splendidly
.
When
the
gong
sounded
I
think
it
was
felt
to
be
an
extravagance
.
I
remedied
this
as
far
as
I
could
by
telling
Aunt
George
,
as
I
gave
her
my
arm
,
that
the
gong
was
a
wedding-present
to
Chloe
.
And
so
it
was
,
but
I
bought
it
.
We
crowded
into
the
big
drawing-room
.
Even
Aunt
George
admitted
that
it
looked
very
nice
—
but
not
until
I
had
asked
her
if
it
did
n't
.
And
then
she
said
it
would
have
looked
better
without
those
Christmas
decorations
!
These
were
our
loops
and
swags
.
I
saw
more
than
one
uncle
cast
a
glance
at
the
foot
of
the
sideboard
as
he
passed
,
and
I
wondered
in
anguish
whether
the
drapery
had
displaced
itself
and
the
naked
packing-cases
were
disclosed
to
the
shocked
eyes
of
aunts
.
But
I
could
not
see
.
Yet
the
suspense
was
unbearable
.
Under
pretext
of
turning
down
a
lamp
,
I
went
to
see
.
I
must
know
the
worst
.
The
worst
was
a
row
—
a
long
row
—
of
gold-topped
bottles
.
I
flashed
reproachful
glances
at
Chloe
,
and
as
I
passed
behind
her
chair
,
she
murmured
:
“
It
's
all
right
.
Asti
.
The
new
tenant
.
”
It
seemed
to
me
,
in
my
agitation
,
to
be
like
the
new
tenant
's
cheek
,
and
not
at
all
like
Chloe
,
but
this
was
no
time
for
anything
but
the
duties
of
a
host
.
I
returned
to
Aunt
George
,
who
said
,
“
I
wish
to
goodness
you
would
n't
run
about
so
!
”
Mary
and
Mrs.
Bates
waited
,
and
the
waiting
ing
was
excellent
.
So
was
the
Chianti
,
which
was
all
I
had
intended
our
wine-bill
to
run
to
.
But
the
uncles
looked
at
the
gold-topped
bottles
,
so
did
some
of
the
cousins
.
The
aunts
looked
away
from
them
.
So
I
said
:
“
Aunt
George
,
we
've
some
very
fine
Italian
sparkling
wine
here
—
a
present
.
I
should
like
you
to
try
it
.
”
As
soon
as
I
had
said
“
a
present
,
”
I
caught
my
wife
's
shocked
glance
,
and
knew
the
truth
;
she
had
bought
the
Asti
on
the
strength
of
our
new
tenant
.
But
the
words
were
out
;
so
,
in
a
few
moments
,
were
the
corks
.
The
avuncular
condemnation
of
Italian
vintages
was
almost
unanimous
—
but
avuncular
eyes
sparkled
,
and
a
sort
of
soft
current
of
cheerfulness
passed
round
the
room
.
At
the
round
table
at
the
other
end
where
sat
the
nephews
and
nieces
and
the
few
young
people
whom
we
had
asked
to
meet
them
,
there
was
a
low
buzz
of
chattering
and
laughter
.
Yolande
was
at
that
table
.
She
had
insisted
on
it
.
“
Your
uncle
George
always
said
,
”
my
aunt
George
was
saying
,
as
she
held
out
her
glass
to
be
refilled
,
“
that
no
sparkling
wine
was
worth
the
drinking
except
—
”
when
a
sudden
rapping
on
the
table
left
her
with
only
time
for
a
,
“
Well
,
I
'm
sure
,
”
before
a
general
silence
abashed
her
into
quiet
.
Uncle
Bletherthwaite
rose
heavily
in
his
place
.
He
made
a
speech
.
The
Fates
forbid
that
I
should
render
it
to
you
.
It
was
of
a
studied
temperateness
;
it
dwelt
on
our
blessings
;
expressed
,
tepidly
,
the
pleasure
he
felt
in
seeing
us
at
last
(
he
repeated
“
at
last
,
”
and
I
knew
he
was
thinking
that
it
was
eight
months
since
he
had
dined
with
us
)
in
our
home
and
with
our
family
(
he
looked
at
Yolande
)
gathered
about
us
.
It
dwelt
,
and
I
thought
at
somewhat
too
great
a
length
,
on
the
good
dinners
he
had
eaten
in
this
house
in
my
uncle
Thomas
's
days
,
and
the
good
wine
he
had
drunk
(
he
looked
disparagingly
at
the
Asti
)
;
it
ended
by
a
formal
hope
that
we
and
those
now
assembled
round
our
board
might
long
be
spared
(
which
I
could
see
he
did
n't
think
likely
)
,
and
with
a
wish
that
our
new
home
might
be
a
blessing
to
us
.
(
Of
course
it
was
perfectly
plain
that
,
however
much
he
might
wish
it
,
it
appeared
to
him
but
too
improbable
.
)
He
said
,
finally
,
and
with
a
sigh
,
“
I
and
your
aunts
and
cousins
and
other
relations
,
including
,
I
am
sure
,
those
present
who
are
not
members
of
the
family
,
drink
to
the
prosperity
of
the
Red
House
.
”
The
toast
was
drunk
in
the
gloomiest
silence
—
as
to
the
memory
of
those
who
had
fallen
.
All
the
lights
seemed
to
burn
lower
;
there
was
an
awkward
pause
.
Chloe
bit
her
lip
and
would
not
look
at
me
.
Then
suddenly
there
was
another
buzz
from
the
youthful
table
,
and
our
eldest
nephew
rose
in
his
place
.
“
Ladies
and
gentlemen
,
”
he
began
(
adding
by
what
was
scarcely
a
happy
after-thought
,
“
and
aunts
and
uncles
”
)
,
“
we
have
drunk
to
the
old
house
,
and
now
I
want
to
call
another
toast
—
with
your
kind
permission
,
”
he
said
,
catching
the
eye
of
an
elderly
cousin
.
“
So
fill
your
glasses
,
please
—
no
heel-taps
—
bumpers
,
please
!
Here
's
to
the
jolliest
aunt
and
uncle
that
ever
were
.
The
dearest
and
kindest
and
jolliest
and
best
—
Aunt
Chloe
and
Uncle
Len
.
Long
life
and
happiness
to
them
!
God
bless
them
!
There
!
”
It
was
his
first
speech
,
dear
boy
,
and
I
think
he
hoped
then
that
it
might
be
his
last
.
I
saw
his
hand
trembling
as
he
lifted
his
glass
.
Then
suddenly
all
the
young
people
stood
up
;
a
momentary
hesitation
ended
in
the
rustling
rising
of
elder
relatives
,
and
through
the
rustle
came
the
first
words
of
the
refrain
,
from
the
young
table
:
“
For
they
are
jolly
good
fellows
,
For
they
are
jolly
good
fellows
,
Oh
,
they
are
jolly
good
fellows
,
And
so
say
all
of
us
.
”
Before
the
singing
was
over
Aunt
George
was
leading
it
in
her
high
sweet
old
voice
,
and
Uncle
Bletherthwaite
was
thundering
an
irresponsible
bass
.
I
did
not
know
where
to
look
,
and
I
believe
Chloe
nearly
wept
.
I
made
some
sort
of
speech
—
I
do
n't
know
how
.
Having
one
's
health
drunk
like
that
is
a
thing
that
does
n't
happen
often
—
thank
goodness
.
So
one
feels
it
oddly
.
The
party
“
went
”
like
wildfire
after
that
.
It
was
almost
as
delightful
as
if
none
of
us
had
been
related
to
each
other
at
all
.
The
tables
were
cleared
,
then
with
the
help
of
nephews
and
the
less
frail
among
the
cousins
,
cleared
away
bodily
.
Yolande
sang
to
the
guitar
,
and
aunts
nodded
approval
.
A
niece
and
a
nephew
danced
a
minuet
,
and
cousins
were
mildly
pleased
.
Then
Yvonne
and
the
prettiest
niece
danced
a
cachucha
,
and
uncles
were
enchanted
.
Some
one
sang
—
an
uncle
,
I
think
;
some
one
sniffed
—
no
doubt
an
aunt
;
and
coffee
was
served
at
the
absolutely
right
moment
.
Then
shawls
and
hats
were
handed
like
refreshments
,
and
we
all
trooped
out
into
the
garden
by
the
moat
to
look
at
the
moonlight
and
the
Chinese
lanterns
,
craftily
lighted
by
Mrs.
Bates
while
the
cachucha
was
enchanting
us
.
The
night
was
warm
as
June
.
Groups
of
persons
—
all
related
,
yet
for
the
moment
all
at
peace
with
each
other
—
stood
“
beneath
the
dreaming
garden
trees
.
”
Chloe
and
I
glowed
with
a
flush
of
successful
hospitality
.
Then
suddenly
,
sharply
,
the
silence
of
the
night
,
with
its
soft
embroidery
of
talking
and
laughter
,
was
shattered
—
torn
roughly
asunder
by
a
scream
,
and
another
scream
,
from
the
walled
garden
beyond
the
moat
.
Feminine
cousins
paled
;
male
cousins
spoke
ejaculatorily
of
pistols
;
stout
uncles
breathed
heavily
of
police
.
A
few
of
us
hastened
towards
the
walled
garden
.
At
the
door
that
leads
to
it
from
the
moat
garden
we
came
face
to
face
with
two
figures
,
a
man
and
a
woman
,
who
staggered
as
they
walked
;
both
were
in
white
,
and
both
were
stained
on
face
and
hands
and
garments
with
dark
,
ominous
stains
.
“
Just
our
luck
!
”
I
murmured
.
“
What
an
end
to
a
family
party
!
”
For
the
light
of
a
saffron-colored
lantern
showed
us
unmistakably
that
the
stains
were
blood-red
.
I
flung
an
arm
round
the
blood-stained
woman
to
sustain
her
.
And
the
woman
was
Yolande
.
And
I
heard
my
uncle
Bletherthwaite
murmur
,
“
Well
,
I
never
!
”
as
though
he
had
foreseen
the
whole
thing
.
VIII
THE
TENANT
A
GARDEN
hung
with
soft-tinted
Chinese
lanterns
glowing
amid
gleams
of
green
leaf-lights
and
deeps
of
black
leaf-shadow
;
a
company
of
aunts
and
uncles
placated
by
food
,
drink
,
and
the
servile
attentions
of
nephews
and
nieces
;
a
silvery
atmosphere
of
peace
,
shot
with
faint
streaks
of
something
almost
approaching
a
modified
approval
;
a
host
and
hostess
weary
,
though
not
wholly
exhausted
—
yet
counting
the
moments
till
the
last
uncle
,
having
consumed
the
ultimate
whiskey
,
should
depart
in
the
last
of
the
cabs
—
and
the
rest
of
us
—
Chloe
,
Yolande
,
and
I
—
should
be
left
to
look
back
on
the
party
and
“
talk
it
over
.
”
And
now
,
on
this
almost
pastoral
stage
,
where
uncles
were
all
but
in
tune
to
pipe
,
and
aunts
not
far
from
the
mood
when
one
wreathes
one
's
crook
with
flowers
,
intrudes
a
harsh
shriek
from
the
darkness
of
the
farther
garden
,
to
be
followed
lowed
by
the
unspeakably
dramatic
entrance
of
a
man
and
a
woman
stained
with
—
well
,
it
looked
like
blood
,
exactly
.
The
woman
,
as
I
have
said
,
was
Yolande
;
the
man
,
whom
she
led
familiarly
,
yet
with
a
certain
ferocity
,
by
the
hand
,
was
a
perfect
stranger
.
His
eyes
were
closed
and
his
face
was
stained
with
crimson
.
It
dripped
still
from
his
head
and
ears
on
to
the
flannels
which
earlier
in
the
evening
must
have
been
pearly
white
.
Every
aunt
shuddered
,
every
uncle
winced
.
Uncle
Bletherthwaite
so
far
forgot
himself
as
to
mutter
,
“
Good
God
!
”
which
,
in
the
“
presence
of
ladies
,
”
was
more
from
him
than
a
good
round
damn
might
be
from
the
lighter
brethren
.
The
nephews
and
nieces
crowded
round
,
cousins
drew
cautiously
near
,
and
as
soon
as
it
had
been
inferred
from
my
attitude
in
respect
to
Yolande
that
she
at
least
was
no
stranger
to
me
,
the
semicircle
of
aunts
and
uncles
closed
up
about
us
.
Uncle
Reginald
told
me
afterwards
that
he
feared
the
worst
just
then
,
for
none
of
them
recognized
Yolande
under
her
new
crimson
disguise
.
As
Uncle
Reginald
said
,
“
They
none
of
them
knew
her
from
Adam
.
”
He
added
,
“
By
Jove
!
just
for
the
moment
I
forgot
my
morals
,
and
I
was
sorry
for
you
,
my
boy
—
I
was
indeed
.
”
I
do
not
seek
to
know
what
he
meant
.
Chloe
was
very
angry
when
I
told
her
.
And
now
there
was
a
breathless
silence
.
It
was
like
the
scene
in
Kipling
's
His
Wedded
Wife
.
I
broke
the
silence
.
I
shook
Yolande
,
and
said
,
I
fear
not
too
amiably
,
“
My
dear
girl
,
what
on
earth
is
it
?
”
“
Lend
me
your
handkerchief
,
”
she
said
,
irrelevantly
;
and
,
taking
it
,
wiped
scarlet
dews
from
her
brow
and
hands
.
“
Oh
,
let
me
get
away
.
And
take
him
away
and
clean
him
,
wo
n't
you
?
It
's
all
got
into
his
eyes
.
”
She
dropped
the
hand
of
the
stranger
,
and
would
have
fled
,
but
Aunt
George
barred
the
way
.
“
After
this
scene
we
've
just
seen
,
”
she
said
,
“
I
think
it
's
due
to
your
company
to
explain
.
”
The
flannelled
man
got
at
his
handkerchief
.
“
Jove
!
it
does
sting
,
”
he
said
,
rubbing
at
his
eyes
.
“
I
ca
n't
get
my
eyes
open
.
Wo
n't
somebody
take
me
where
there
's
a
tap
and
put
me
under
it
?
”
He
had
a
pleasant
voice
,
but
it
did
not
soften
the
aunts
and
uncles
.
Curiosity
had
taken
the
place
of
terror
.
“
Asking
for
taps
like
this
,
”
said
Uncle
Bletherthwaite
,
“
is
no
excuse
for
this
unwarrantable
intrusion
into
the
midst
of
a
family
gathering
.
This
young
person
—
”
“
A
member
of
the
family
gathering
,
”
I
urged
.
Then
Yolande
detached
herself
from
me
,
gave
her
face
a
final
scrub
,
and
spoke
sweetly
:
“
Oh
,
please
do
n't
be
alarmed
.
There
were
some
pails
of
red
stuff
put
aside
for
the
fruit
trees
,
and
this
gentleman
,
who
lives
next
door
,
unfortunately
came
in
contact
with
them
;
and
I
had
remembered
the
pails
were
there
,
and
was
just
going
to
attend
to
them
”
(
“
In
that
dress
!
”
said
Aunt
George
,
with
a
sniff
)
,
“
and
I
brought
him
in
to
be
washed
.
I
think
I
myself
will
also
wash.
Good-night
.
I
am
so
sorry
to
have
alarmed
you
.
”
She
passed
the
cordon
of
relations
and
fled
,
her
last
words
a
whisper
to
me
:
“
Their
carriages
are
beginning
to
come
.
Leave
Chloe
to
get
rid
of
them
.
That
man
must
be
washed
,
or
he
'll
die
or
be
blind
,
or
something
.
”
So
I
took
him
to
the
bath-room
and
left
him
with
the
hot
tap
and
the
cold
tap
,
and
the
hip-bath
and
the
foot-bath
and
the
long
bath
,
and
the
hand-basin
and
the
soap
and
a
pile
of
towels
,
and
some
clothes
of
mine
.
And
all
seemed
inadequate
.
I
did
not
believe
he
would
ever
be
his
right
color
again
.
Then
,
Heaven
be
praised
!
there
were
cabs
and
trains
,
and
the
house-warming
party
melted
away
,
Aunt
George
protesting
to
the
last
against
Yolande
's
explanation
as
a
mere
excuse
for
“
goings-on
,
”
and
Uncle
Bletherthwaite
feverishly
anxious
,
even
through
the
cab
window
,
as
to
the
nature
of
the
crimson
dressing
designed
for
our
fruit
trees
.
At
long
last
the
last
lingering
cab-borne
cousin
left
our
gates
,
and
Chloe
and
I
turned
to
each
other
in
the
empty
hall
.
A
pale
and
cautious
Yolande
in
a
white
wrapper
peered
down
the
stairs
.
“
Are
they
gone
?
Oh
,
give
him
lemons
—
many
lemons
;
I
've
got
it
all
off
my
face
with
that
.
My
hands
are
past
praying
for
.
”
Our
strangely
introduced
guest
was
still
splashing
and
laughing
and
—
well
,
grumbling
—
to
himself
over
the
lemons
when
Yolande
rejoined
us
in
the
drawing-room
.
“
He
'll
be
ages
yet
,
”
she
said
.
“
You
do
n't
know
what
it
is
to
get
off
.
And
he
's
simply
soaked
through
and
through
.
”
“
Yolande
,
”
I
said
,
sternly
,
“
I
have
borne
enough
;
this
ensanguined
masquerade
requires
,
as
Uncle
Bletherthwaite
says
,
some
explanation
more
convincing
—
”
“
Oh
,
bother
!
”
she
cried
.
“
I
am
a
dog
,
and
an
outcast
,
and
an
abject
idiot
—
and
I
'll
tell
you
everything
.
”
She
fell
a
dejected
heap
into
the
easy-chair
where
Aunt
George
had
sat
so
upright
during
the
minuet
and
the
cachucha
.
“
I
know
you
'll
scorn
me
forever
.
But
‘a
fault
that
's
owned
is
half
atoned
,
’
and
I
'll
own
my
fault
.
It
was
only
my
only
and
always
fault
—
I
have
but
the
one
,
you
know
—
being
too
jolly
clever
by
half
.
I
'll
never
try
to
do
anything
again
.
”
“
Tell
us
quickly
,
before
he
gets
clean
,
”
Chloe
pleaded
.
“
Who
is
he
?
What
was
it
?
How
did
it
happen
?
Quick
—
before
he
bursts
upon
us
with
his
clean
face
.
”
“
There
's
no
hurry
,
”
said
Yolande
,
gloomily
,
twisting
her
reddened
fingers
tightly
together
.
“
You
need
n't
be
afraid
of
seeing
his
face
clean
yet
awhile
.
Well
,
when
you
talked
about
the
fruit-thief
,
I
thought
to
myself
,
if
one
could
only
mark
the
thief
thoroughly
,
it
would
be
as
good
as
catching
him
,
because
you
could
wire
to
all
the
police
stations
,
‘Lost
,
Stolen
,
or
Strayed
,
a
Pink-spotted
Fruit-stealer
!
’
I
thought
I
was
quite
clever
,
and
really
I
was
a
mere
lunatic
.
”
I
had
never
seen
Yolande
so
near
tears
.
“
It
was
a
good
idea
,
”
said
Chloe
,
perfunctorily
sympathetic
;
“
and
so
you
took
that
pink
dye
—
”
“
Yes
.
I
hid
two
pails
of
it
,
one
among
the
currant-bushes
and
one
under
the
quince-tree
.
And
then
when
we
were
in
the
garden
I
saw
a
flash
,
and
I
knew
some
one
had
struck
a
match
—
to
see
where
the
peaches
were
,
I
thought
.
Really
,
of
course
,
it
must
have
been
this
wretched
man
lighting
his
hateful
pipe
.
So
I
stole
away
,
and
I
got
the
big
brass
garden
syringe
.
”
“
It
was
a
good
idea
,
”
said
Chloe
,
with
more
conviction
.
“
Well
?
”
“
Well
—
oh
,
then
I
stalked
him
;
and
even
when
I
was
close
to
him
I
never
knew
he
was
just
a
human
being
in
flannels
.
I
thought
he
was
playing
ghost
,
and
I
said
to
myself
,
‘All
the
better
to
mark
you
on
,
my
friend
!
’
Oh
,
it
was
funny
.
”
She
began
to
laugh
shakily
.
“
There
was
I
creeping
along
with
my
syringe
full
charged
,
and
the
pail
in
my
other
hand
—
held
well
out
,
because
of
my
gown
—
and
he
,
poor
soul
,
sauntering
along
in
the
shadows
of
the
nut-walk
,
thinking
nothing
less
than
that
some
one
was
advancing
with
his
pink
doom
.
When
he
was
a
couple
of
yards
off
I
fired
a
volley
—
slap
in
his
face
—
and
turned
to
run
.
He
swore
—
but
I
forgive
him
that
.
My
pail
caught
in
a
bough
,
and
went
over
his
feet
,
for
he
jumped
towards
the
noise
;
he
is
not
a
coward
.
He
caught
hold
of
my
dress
,
in
the
dark
(
he
's
torn
a
yard
out
at
the
gathers
,
but
it
does
n't
matter
;
the
dress
was
ruined
anyway
)
,
and
as
soon
as
I
had
heard
his
voice
,
even
though
it
was
swearing
—
I
knew
what
I
'd
done
,
and
I
said
:
‘It
's
all
a
mistake
.
I
'm
Yolande
Riseborough
.
Ca
n't
you
see
?
’
for
he
was
staggering
about
.
And
then
I
saw
he
could
n't
,
and
I
said
:
‘Come
and
be
cleaned
.
Give
me
your
hand.’
And
so
I
brought
him
in
,
and
on
the
way
we
tumbled
over
the
other
pail
.
And
nous
voici
—
”
“
You
know
him
,
then
?
”
“
Know
him
?
Any
one
would
have
known
him
,
when
it
was
too
late
.
Oh
,
my
broken
heart
!
What
will
you
do
to
me
when
you
know
?
He
'll
never
stay
—
”
“
If
you
play
at
sphinxes
another
moment
I
shall
slap
you
.
Who
is
it
?
”
“
It
's
your
new
tenant
.
That
's
all
,
”
said
Yolande
,
with
what
is
termed
the
calmness
of
despair
.
“
You
know
,
permission
to
walk
in
the
garden
was
given
as
one
of
the
extra
attractions
of
the
cottage
.
I
'll
never
try
to
be
clever
again
.
I
got
you
the
tenant
—
cotton-broking
lineage
,
and
Coutts
's
bank
,
and
all
—
and
now
I
've
squirted
him
with
red
dye
out
of
a
brass
garden
syringe
,
and
he
will
never
forgive
it
;
and
I
wish
I
was
dead
.
”
One
on
each
side
of
her
,
we
were
doing
our
best
to
console
,
when
the
bath-room
door
opened
.
We
heard
it
.
I
flew
into
the
corridor
,
pushed
by
four
fair
hands
.
I
intercepted
my
partially
washed
tenant
.
I
made
him
a
speech
of
manly
apology
.
Important
as
his
tenancy
was
to
me
,
I
did
not
,
even
then
,
grovel
before
him
.
I
was
getting
on
fairly
well
with
the
speech
when
my
tenant
began
to
laugh
—
one
of
the
jolliest
laughs
I
ever
heard
.
And
from
the
drawing-room
Chloe
's
laugh
and
Yolande
's
joined
in
it
.
So
that
in
a
few
moments
I
had
presented
my
tenant
to
my
wife
,
and
we
were
all
talking
at
once
,
explaining
and
expounding
,
while
I
struggled
with
the
wire
of
the
last
but
two
of
the
bottles
of
Asti
.
My
tenant
was
young
;
Chloe
considered
him
handsome
.
He
certainly
had
a
well-shaped
head
and
extremely
merry
blue
eyes
.
He
was
at
home
with
us
at
once
.
Stiffness
of
demeanor
is
difficult
to
maintain
in
the
immediate
sequence
of
events
such
as
had
introduced
us
.
Three
courses
were
open
to
him
,
as
Mr.
Gladstone
used
to
say
.
He
might
have
stormed
,
raged
,
threatened
,
and
retired
;
he
might
have
retired
,
frigidly
polite
;
in
either
case
following
up
the
retirement
by
a
notice
of
the
termination
of
the
tenancy
.
Or
he
might
have
laughed
and
made
the
best
of
it
,
and
of
us
.
This
he
had
done
.
I
liked
the
man
,
and
I
almost
forgave
him
for
being
able
to
play
the
guitar
—
a
most
effeminate
accomplishment
,
and
one
I
never
could
acquire
,
for
all
Chloe
's
teaching
—
when
I
heard
that
he
had
learned
it
in
the
Philippines
during
the
war
.
I
detest
and
distrust
sudden
intimacies
,
but
it
was
impossible
to
treat
this
man
as
a
stranger
.
By
dyeing
—
or
being
accessory
to
the
dyeing
of
—
a
new
acquaintance
crimson
,
you
skip
a
hundred
mile-stones
on
the
road
to
friendship
.
But
it
might
be
a
hazardous
experiment
.
Anyway
,
it
was
not
till
the
small
hours
were
growing
out
of
all
knowledge
,
and
beginning
to
take
notice
,
that
we
parted
from
our
tenant
.
A
second
,
and
much
better
,
supper
had
risen
for
us
,
phœnix-like
,
from
the
ashes
of
the
first
;
we
had
sung
songs
,
told
travellers
'
tales
,
made
jokes
,
and
when
at
last
I
saw
the
injured
tenant
to
his
door
there
were
hints
of
gray
in
the
east
.
When
I
came
back
,
Chloe
and
Yolande
,
candle-bearing
,
had
paused
on
the
stairs
for
a
last
word
.
“
He
's
wonderful
,
”
I
said
.
“
The
right
sort
.
”
“
One
of
our
kind
—
yes
,
”
said
Chloe
;
“
some
people
are
,
do
n't
you
know
,
and
some
are
n't
;
quite
nice
people
,
too
,
sometimes
,
curiously
enough
.
And
people
who
are
n't
very
clever
are
,
now
and
then
.
Besides
that
,
he
's
charming
—
is
n't
he
,
Yolande
?
”
Yolande
stifled
a
yawn
,
and
said
she
supposed
he
was
all
right
.
“
What
a
night
of
adventures
for
us
!
”
I
said
,
“
and
,
oh
,
my
only
hat
!
what
a
night
for
him
!
”
“
He
may
think
himself
lucky
,
”
said
Yolande
.
“
How
angel-good
you
were
to
him
,
Chloe
!
Goodnight
.
”
“
Do
you
think
it
was
a
success
—
the
real
party
?
”
asked
Chloe
,
anxiously
.
“
They
could
n't
believe
that
about
the
fruit
and
the
dye
.
”
“
It
was
true
,
”
said
Yolande
,
“
so
I
suppose
they
could
n't
.
Oh
yes
,
it
's
all
right
;
give
them
something
to
talk
about
for
months
.
It
was
a
splendid
party
,
Chloe
,
though
I
did
n't
have
anything
to
do
with
it
.
I
'll
never
put
my
finger
into
any
one
else
's
pie
again
!
”
She
held
up
her
pink-dyed
fingers
with
a
rather
rueful
laugh
.
“
Oh
yes
,
you
will
,
”
I
said
,
“
for
the
pie
's
our
good
!
You
see
,
this
was
such
a
very
pink
pie
—
and
,
besides
,
it
was
just
that
sort
of
an
unimportant
detail
that
does
n't
suit
your
genius
.
But
it
's
taught
—
”
“
Taught
me
a
lesson
?
Yes
,
rub
it
in
!
”
“
No
;
it
's
taught
us
our
tenant
.
I
think
he
's
worth
learning
.
I
'm
glad
we
know
him
.
Goodnight
.
”
So
ended
our
house-warming
.
It
was
an
extravagant
entertainment
,
but
the
thought
of
the
new
tenant
's
rent
upheld
us
through
the
gloomy
work
of
paying
the
bills
;
and
the
price
for
my
stories
,
as
for
Chloe
's
pictures
,
was
rising
steadily
.
I
now
had
only
to
begin
a
story
,
and
,
if
Yolande
were
staying
with
us
,
it
found
itself
finished
,
and
finished
well
,
without
my
help
.
And
I
could
not
disguise
from
myself
that
my
stories
met
now
with
a
reception
far
more
flattering
than
ever
awaited
them
in
the
old
days
.
My
articles
I
was
still
allowed
to
write
on
“
my
own
unaided
hook
,
”
and
I
rejoiced
in
this
till
the
editor
of
the
Weekly
Wilderness
sent
me
an
amiable
letter
congratulating
me
on
the
style
of
certain
tales
which
he
had
had
the
pleasure
of
reading
in
the
magazines
and
weeklies
,
over
my
signature
,
and
suggesting
that
my
articles
would
be
none
the
worse
for
a
little
of
the
“
pathetic
sort
of
thing
”
as
well
as
the
“
light
ironic
touch
”
which
he
had
noticed
in
the
stories
.
Then
I
showed
Chloe
the
letter
,
and
said
several
things
.
Among
others
I
swore
that
I
would
not
be
interfered
with
any
more
in
my
work
.
“
I
know
she
means
it
kindly
,
”
I
said
.
“
I
know
it
's
done
entirely
to
serve
us
and
help
us
,
and
it
's
most
kind
and
charitable
,
and
I
simply
wo
n't
stand
it
.
I
'm
not
going
to
go
on
being
complimented
on
other
people
's
work
.
”
Chloe
was
turning
over
the
pages
of
the
paper
in
which
the
last
but
three
of
these
stories
had
appeared
.
“
But
they
're
good
,
are
n't
they
—
rather
good
,
I
mean
?
”
said
she
.
“
They
're
so
beastly
good
,
”
said
I
,
“
that
I
wo
n't
put
my
name
to
another
of
them
.
If
it
were
n't
that
the
whole
business
sounds
so
silly
,
I
'd
tell
every
single
editor
to-morrow
,
and
advertise
the
facts
in
the
Times
as
well
.
”
Chloe
had
grown
quite
pale
.
“
Oh
,
Len
,
do
n't
!
”
she
said
;
“
the
ghost
only
wants
to
help
.
”
“
Yolande
—
”
“
Yolande
will
be
off
to
Italy
quite
soon
now
,
with
her
horrid
pupils
.
Len
,
dear
,
to
please
me
,
do
n't
make
any
more
fuss
.
You
do
n't
know
how
unhappy
it
makes
me
.
Wait
till
she
's
gone
.
Perhaps
the
ghost
wo
n't
write
any
more
,
now
it
knows
you
do
n't
like
it
.
”
“
You
mean
you
'll
tell
her
to
drop
it
?
”
said
I
.
“
What
must
she
think
of
me
for
letting
it
go
on
so
long
?
Well
,
my
mind
's
made
up
now
;
I
'll
speak
to
Yolande
myself
—
”
“
No
,
no
,
no
!
Dear
Len
,
do
n't
.
I
'm
sure
the
ghost
wo
n't
write
any
more
.
And
I
ca
n't
think
why
you
mind
.
Yes
—
I
see
you
do
—
and
—
But
I
'm
quite
pleased
when
the
ghost
touches
up
my
drawings
,
or
even
when
it
does
them
for
me
altogether
.
Dear
ghost
!
Len
,
it
does
n't
matter
which
of
us
does
the
work
.
”
Her
voice
was
very
small
,
and
broken
,
and
I
felt
a
brute
.
“
It
would
n't
matter
which
of
us
did
the
work
,
my
pussy-kitten
,
”
I
said
,
“
but
Yolande
's
not
one
of
us
.
She
's
our
land-agent
and
our
registry-office
,
as
it
is
,
and
that
ought
to
be
enough
even
for
her
.
If
you
do
n't
speak
to
her
,
I
shall
.
”
“
Then
I
will
,
”
said
she
,
turning
away
.
“
Go
on
with
your
work
.
I
'm
certain
no
nasty
ghost
will
come
and
interfere
any
more
.
”
Still
raging
,
I
sat
down
to
the
type-writer
and
snapped
off
a
letter
to
my
Weekly
Wilderness
editor
.
Then
of
course
I
went
to
look
for
Chloe
.
I
found
her
crouched
among
the
blue
and
green
cushions
on
the
faded
green
divan
in
the
loafery
,
and
I
stayed
there
with
her
head
on
my
shoulder
till
she
had
consented
to
be
completely
comforted
.
I
told
her
that
I
“
did
not
mean
to
be
cross
,
”
and
when
I
had
said
it
many
times
she
believed
it
,
and
so
did
I
,
though
it
was
not
at
all
true
.
After
that
no
ghost
ever
laid
finger
on
my
type-writer
,
and
I
worked
at
it
harder
than
ever
.
And
my
stories
were
not
nearly
so
good
as
the
ghost-ridden
ones
.
But
my
drawings
grew
better
and
better
,
as
I
did
more
and
more
of
them
—
all
of
which
Chloe
signed
and
sent
off
with
a
cheerful
gratitude
,
perhaps
a
little
too
pronounced
,
and
designed
,
I
knew
,
to
show
me
that
she
was
n't
too
proud
to
accept
help
from
a
ghost
—
or
a
friend
.
The
humiliation
which
stung
me
every
time
I
thought
of
my
indebtedness
to
a
writer
more
expert
than
I
drove
me
to
this
curious
retaliation
in
Fate
—
or
Chloe
—
or
Yolande
—
or
the
ghost
.
Since
Chloe
could
bear
that
my
work
should
be
supplemented
and
improved
by
another
hand
—
a
hand
neither
hers
nor
mine
—
it
pleased
me
mightily
to
reflect
that
no
hand
but
mine
had
ever
tampered
with
her
work
,
and
that
she
did
not
know
to
whom
belonged
the
hand
whose
help
she
accepted
so
lightly
.
I
hugged
myself
in
the
knowledge
that
it
was
mine
,
mine
,
mine
.
An
order
to
illustrate
a
child
's
book
had
thrilled
her
with
delight
.
She
has
a
pretty
fancy
.
She
can
see
pictures
—
but
she
cannot
draw
them
.
It
was
on
her
sketches
that
I
always
worked
;
and
I
worked
hard
to
finish
that
child
's
book
before
Yolande
should
take
flight
for
Italy
.
I
found
it
hard
to
conceal
from
Yolande
my
growing
irritation
at
the
ghost
's
part
in
my
stories
—
an
irritation
doubled
,
of
course
,
by
vexation
at
the
weakness
of
my
former
acquiescence
.
It
was
hard
to
keep
the
word
I
had
pledged
to
Chloe
,
hard
not
to
have
it
out
with
Yolande
.
There
would
,
I
think
,
have
been
a
constraint
strong
enough
to
force
on
a
crisis
of
explanations
but
for
our
new
tenant
.
He
distracted
us
.
He
called
on
us
;
he
invited
us
to
tea
;
he
sent
us
tickets
for
the
theatres
.
When
I
saw
him
strolling
among
the
green
of
our
garden
—
for
he
spent
most
of
the
time
there
that
he
could
snatch
from
his
newspaper-office
—
I
sometimes
hated
to
think
that
our
garden
was
no
longer
only
our
own
;
but
he
was
discreet
.
If
Chloe
and
I
set
foot
in
the
garden
,
he
disappeared
,
as
swiftly
as
though
our
weed-grown
walks
had
been
a
wishing-carpet
.
But
when
Yolande
walked
alone
in
the
garden
he
sometimes
joined
her
.
Of
course
to
her
the
garden
was
merely
a
green
space
to
walk
in
.
To
us
—
and
I
liked
our
tenant
for
perceiving
this
—
the
garden
was
something
far
other
and
far
more
.
He
dined
with
us
—
on
a
bottled-beer
footing
—
more
than
once
,
and
more
than
once
we
and
Yolande
dined
with
him
at
his
cottage
.
On
the
first
of
these
times
Chloe
and
I
could
not
help
exchanging
glances
when
we
saw
how
the
soft
yellow
of
our
tenant
's
sitting-room
wall-paper
suited
his
black-framed
etchings
and
mezzotints
.
Yolande
surprised
the
glance
,
and
it
betrayed
us
to
her
.
She
taxed
us
roundly
with
the
crime
,
later
on
,
as
we
sat
sipping
cocoa
round
the
kitchen
fire
at
home
.
“
When
will
you
learn
wisdom
?
”
she
sighed
.
“
You
know
you
papered
that
cottage
yourselves
.
”
We
owned
it
shamefacedly
.
“
Are
there
no
poor
paper-hangers
out
of
work
?
I
ask
more
in
sorrow
than
in
anger
.
Are
there
no
painters
in
Elmhurst
?
”
Here
Chloe
plucked
up
a
spirit
and
said
we
enjoyed
doing
it
.
“
The
old
defence
—
which
is
none
,
”
said
Yolande
,
setting
down
her
cup
on
the
broad
fender
.
“
How
many
glorious
golden
guineas
could
you
two
have
turned
at
your
own
trades
in
the
time
it
took
you
to
do
that
house
?
Oh
yes
,
I
saw
the
exquisite
way
you
'd
made
the
patterns
match
,
and
how
delicately
you
'd
negotiated
all
those
difficult
odd
corners
.
You
are
incorrigible
!
”
“
It
comes
of
property
,
”
I
said
.
“
Our
property
is
exigent
.
We
love
it
,
and
it
presumes
on
our
affection
and
makes
us
do
things
for
it
.
It
's
like
doing
things
for
one
's
own
child
.
Mothers
like
to
wash
and
dress
their
own
babies
,
and
they
do
n't
think
it
waste
of
time
to
spend
hours
over
it
—
even
if
they
might
be
earning
money
instead
and
keeping
whole
armies
of
competent
professional
nurses
.
Now
your
property
—
”
“
Yes
,
I
know
,
”
Yolande
interrupted
;
“
my
property
's
in
consols
—
what
there
is
of
it
—
and
I
love
it
for
itself
alone
.
It
has
no
sentimental
claims
.
Do
n't
throw
it
up
at
me
.
But
even
if
I
had
a
house
and
a
garden
and
cottages
and
all
the
rest
of
it
—
”
“
If
you
had
a
husband
,
”
said
Chloe
,
looking
up
suddenly
from
the
red
heart
of
the
fire
at
which
she
had
been
blinking
,
“
would
n't
you
like
to
sew
on
his
buttons
and
mend
his
socks
?
”
“
Never
,
”
cried
Yolande
,
with
energy
.
“
You
can
get
them
done
for
a
penny
a
pair
,
and
men
ought
to
sew
on
their
own
buttons
—
”
We
laughed
.
“
He
may
divert
his
energies
so
far
?
”
“
Yes
;
it
's
good
for
a
man
,
because
he
never
does
it
—
or
he
never
does
it
because
it
's
good
for
him
.
”
“
Pardon
me
,
”
I
said
,
firmly
.
“
I
myself
—
”
“
Oh
,
you
!
”
she
said
;
“
but
I
am
sleepy
and
stupid
,
and
I
shall
never
be
married
and
sit
over
my
own
kitchen
fire
.
Good-night
,
Cinderella
.
”
“
Good-night
,
Fairy
Godmother
,
”
said
Chloe
.
I
handed
Yolande
her
brass
candlestick
and
went
back
to
my
wife
and
my
own
fireside
.
When
we
had
sat
silent
for
a
little
,
listening
to
the
slow
ticking
of
the
tall
clock
,
Chloe
said
,
still
blinking
at
the
fire
:
“
That
was
quite
true
—
what
you
said
about
doing
things
for
your
own
—
”
“
Yes
,
”
I
said
,
“
I
know
it
was
.
”
“
How
can
people
let
nurses
do
everything
for
their
babies
?
”
“
Yes
,
”
I
said
again
,
“
how
can
they
?
”
Her
cheek
was
against
my
shoulder
by
this
time
and
my
face
against
her
hair
.
So
we
sat
silent
another
space
.
Then
suddenly
she
lifted
her
head
and
said
,
“
Len
,
if
she
ever
is
married
,
she
'll
be
just
as
silly
as
other
people
.
”
“
Probably
,
”
said
I
.
“
I
wonder
if
our
tenant
—
”
“
Of
course
he
admires
her
.
We
all
do
—
”
“
Yes
,
but
—
”
“
It
's
absurd
,
”
I
said
,
with
some
heat
,
for
which
I
can
give
no
reason
;
“
she
hardly
knows
him
at
all
.
”
“
That
does
n't
matter
,
”
said
my
wife
.
“
Have
you
forgotten
—
”
I
had
not
forgotten
.
It
is
a
joy
to
both
of
us
still
to
remember
how
few
times
we
had
met
before
we
knew
,
quite
surely
and
without
mistake
,
and
so
ran
into
each
other
's
arms
in
the
safe
confidence
and
knowledge
that
there
,
for
each
,
was
the
only
possible
home
.
“
But
other
people
are
different
,
”
I
said
,
after
a
while
.
“
Not
all
of
them
—
and
not
so
very
,
”
said
Chloe
.
“
And
I
think
he
likes
her
.
”
“
Nonsense
!
”
I
said
;
“
and
,
besides
,
he
's
not
half
good
enough
for
her
.
”
“
I
knew
you
'd
say
that
,
”
she
cried
,
jumping
up
.
“
No
,
I
'm
not
going
to
sit
on
your
knee
another
moment
.
”
She
busied
herself
in
lighting
our
candle
.
“
I
knew
you
'd
say
that
.
Is
n't
it
odd
?
Women
are
so
glad
to
think
of
their
friends
being
perhaps
going
to
be
happy
.
But
men
always
feel
injured
at
the
mere
idea
that
a
girl
they
like
might
marry
some
one
else
.
Dogs
in
the
manger
!
”
“
It
's
not
the
polygamous
instinct
at
all
,
my
pussy-kitten
,
”
I
said
.
“
It
's
only
that
women
believe
in
marriage
,
and
men
do
n't
.
”
“
Do
n't
they
?
”
said
she
.
“
Do
n't
you
?
”
“
But
our
marriage
is
n't
at
all
like
other
marriages
.
Now
,
is
it
?
”
“
Is
n't
it
?
Oh
,
I
hope
it
is
!
I
should
n't
like
to
think
ours
was
the
only
proper
marriage
.
It
ca
n't
be
,
of
course
.
There
must
be
heaps
of
people
as
fond
of
each
other
as
we
are
.
Do
n't
you
think
so
?
And
quite
as
happy
.
”
“
Do
you
think
so
?
”
She
had
lighted
the
candle
and
was
standing
looking
at
me
as
I
took
off
my
boots
.
I
stood
up
in
my
stockinged
feet
and
put
my
arm
round
her
.
“
Do
you
?
”
I
asked
again
.
“
No
,
”
she
said
,
beginning
to
smile
and
blinking
softly
at
me
,
“
honestly
,
I
'm
afraid
I
do
n't
.
”
“
And
I
do
n't
,
either
,
”
said
I
.
IX
MANLY
SPORTS
I
HAVE
been
writing
like
a
man
milliner
.
I
have
found
no
manly
tale
to
set
forth
—
only
a
record
of
domesticity
almost
florid
in
its
decorative
detail
.
Let
the
accomplished
specialist
in
obscure
psychology
seek
,
and
find
if
he
can
,
the
reason
.
For
me
,
let
me
only
say
that
had
Chloe
written
it
the
tale
had
been
far
otherwise
.
Chloe
would
have
dwelt
,
at
strenuous
length
,
on
my
encounter
with
the
coal-man
who
refused
to
