samplesof
his
stuff
for
analysis
,
and
he
consented-reluctantly
.
I
think
,
on
the
whole
,
he
would
rather
I
did
n't
examine
samples
.
He
made
a
motion
pocketwards
,
that
gave
us
an
invincible
persuasion
that
he
had
a
sample
upon
him
,
and
that
at
the
last
instant
he
decided
not
to
produce
it
prematurely
.
There
was
evidently
a
curious
strain
of
secretiveness
in
him
.
He
did
n't
like
to
give
us
samples
,
and
he
would
n't
indicate
within
three
hundred
miles
the
position
of
this
Mordet
Island
of
his
.
He
had
it
clear
in
his
mind
that
he
had
a
secret
of
immense
value
,
and
he
had
no
idea
at
all
of
just
how
far
he
ought
to
go
with
business
people
.
And
so
presently
,
to
gain
time
for
these
hesitations
of
his
,
he
began
to
talk
of
other
things
.
He
talked
very
well
.
He
talked
of
the
Dutch
East
Indies
and
of
the
Congo
,
of
Portuguese
East
Africa
and
Paraguay
,
of
Malays
and
rich
Chinese
merchants
,
Dyaks
and
negroes
and
the
spread
of
the
Mahometan
world
in
Africa
to-day
.
And
all
this
time
he
was
trying
to
judge
if
we
were
good
enough
to
trust
with
his
adventure
.
Our
cosy
inner
office
became
a
little
place
,
and
all
our
business
cold
and
lifeless
exploits
beside
his
glimpses
of
strange
minglings
of
men
,
of
slayings
unavenged
and
curious
customs
,
of
trade
where
no
writs
run
,
and
the
dark
treacheries
of
eastern
ports
and
uncharted
channels
.
We
had
neither
of
us
gone
abroad
except
for
a
few
vulgar
raids
on
Paris
;
our
world
was
England
,
are
the
places
of
origin
of
half
the
raw
material
of
the
goods
we
sold
had
seemed
to
us
as
remote
as
fairyland
or
the
forest
of
Arden
.
But
Gordon-Nasmyth
made
it
so
real
and
intimate
for
us
that
afternoon-for
me
,
at
any
rate-that
it
seemed
like
something
seen
and
forgotten
and
now
again
remembered
.
And
in
the
end
he
produced
his
sample
,
a
little
lump
of
muddy
clay
speckled
with
brownish
grains
,
in
a
glass
bottle
wrapped
about
with
lead
and
flannel-red
flannel
it
was
,
I
remember-a
hue
which
is
,
I
know
,
popularly
supposed
to
double
all
the
mystical
efficacies
of
flannel
.
"
Do
n't
carry
it
about
on
you
,
"
said
Gordon-Nasmyth
.
"
It
makes
a
sore
.
"
I
took
the
stuff
to
Thorold
,
and
Thorold
had
the
exquisite
agony
of
discovering
two
new
elements
in
what
was
then
a
confidential
analysis
.
He
has
christened
them
and
published
since
,
but
at
the
time
Gordon-Nasmyth
would
n't
hear
for
a
moment
of
our
publication
of
any
facts
at
all
;
indeed
,
he
flew
into
a
violent
passion
and
abused
me
mercilessly
even
for
showing
the
stuff
to
Thorold
.
"
I
thought
you
were
going
to
analyse
it
yourself
,
"
he
said
with
the
touching
persuasion
of
the
layman
that
a
scientific
man
knows
and
practises
at
the
sciences
.
I
made
some
commercial
inquiries
,
and
there
seemed
even
then
much
truth
in
Gordon-Nasmyth
's
estimate
of
the
value
of
the
stuff
.
It
was
before
the
days
of
Capern
's
discovery
of
the
value
of
canadium
and
his
use
of
it
in
the
Capern
filament
,
but
the
cerium
and
thorium
alone
were
worth
the
money
he
extracted
for
the
gas-mantles
then
in
vogue
.
There
were
,
however
,
doubts
.
Indeed
,
there
were
numerous
doubts
.
What
were
the
limits
of
the
gas-mantle
trade
?
How
much
thorium
,
not
to
speak
of
cerium
,
could
they
take
at
a
maximum
.
Suppose
that
quantity
was
high
enough
to
justify
our
shipload
,
came
doubts
in
another
quarter
.
Were
the
heaps
up
to
sample
?
Were
they
as
big
as
he
said
?
Was
Gordon-Nasmyth-imaginative
?
And
if
these
values
held
,
could
we
after
all
get
the
stuff
?
It
was
n't
ours
.
It
was
on
forbidden
ground
.
You
see
,
there
were
doubts
of
every
grade
and
class
in
the
way
of
this
adventure
.
We
went
some
way
,
nevertheless
,
in
the
discussion
of
his
project
,
though
I
think
we
tried
his
patience
.
Then
suddenly
he
vanished
from
London
,
and
I
saw
no
more
of
him
for
a
year
and
a
half
.
My
uncle
said
that
was
what
he
had
expected
,
and
when
at
last
Gordon-Nasmyth
reappeared
and
mentioned
in
an
incidental
way
that
he
had
been
to
Paraguay
on
private
(
and
we
guessed
passionate
)
affairs
,
the
business
of
the
"
quap
"
expedition
had
to
be
begun
again
at
the
beginning
.
My
uncle
was
disposed
to
be
altogether
sceptical
,
but
I
was
n't
so
decided
.
I
think
I
was
drawn
by
its
picturesque
aspects
.
But
we
neither
of
us
dreamt
of
touching
it
seriously
until
Capern
's
discovery
.
Nasmyth
's
story
had
laid
hold
of
my
imagination
like
one
small
,
intense
picture
of
tropical
sunshine
hung
on
a
wall
of
grey
business
affairs
.
I
kept
it
going
during
Gordon-Nasmyth
's
intermittent
appearances
in
England
.
Every
now
and
then
he
and
I
would
meet
and
reinforce
its
effect
.
We
would
lunch
in
London
,
or
he
would
cone
to
see
my
gliders
at
Crest
Hill
,
and
make
new
projects
for
getting
at
those
heaps
again
now
with
me
,
now
alone
.
At
times
they
became
a
sort
of
fairy-story
with
us
,
an
imaginative
exercise
.
And
there
came
Capern
's
discovery
of
what
he
called
the
ideal
filament
and
with
it
an
altogether
less
problematical
quality
about
the
business
side
of
quap
.
For
the
ideal
filament
needed
five
per
cent
.
of
canadium
,
and
canadium
was
known
to
the
world
only
as
a
newly
separated
constituent
of
a
variety
of
the
rare
mineral
rutile
.
But
to
Thorold
it
was
better
known
as
an
element
in
a
mysterious
sample
brought
to
him
by
me
,
and
to
me
it
was
known
as
one
of
the
elements
in
quap
.
I
told
my
uncle
,
and
we
jumped
on
to
the
process
at
once
.
We
found
that
Gordon-Nasmyth
,
still
unaware
of
the
altered
value
of
the
stuff
,
and
still
thinking
of
the
experimental
prices
of
radium
and
the
rarity
value
of
cerium
,
had
got
hold
of
a
cousin
named
Pollack
,
made
some
extraordinary
transaction
about
his
life
insurance
policy
,
and
was
buying
a
brig.
We
put
in
,
put
down
three
thousand
pounds
,
and
forthwith
the
life
insurance
transaction
and
the
Pollack
side
of
this
finance
vanished
into
thin
air
,
leaving
Pollack
,
I
regret
to
say
,
in
the
brig
and
in
the
secret-except
so
far
as
canadium
and
the
filament
went-as
residuum
.
We
discussed
earnestly
whether
we
should
charter
a
steamer
or
go
on
with
the
brig
,
but
we
decided
on
the
brig
as
a
less
conspicuous
instrument
for
an
enterprise
that
was
after
all
,
to
put
it
plainly
,
stealing
.
But
that
was
one
of
our
last
enterprises
before
our
great
crisis
,
and
I
will
tell
of
it
in
its
place
.
So
it
was
quap
came
into
our
affairs
,
came
in
as
a
fairy-tale
and
became
real
.
More
and
more
real
it
grew
until
at
last
it
was
real
,
until
at
last
I
saw
with
my
eyes
the
heaps
my
imagination
had
seen
for
so
long
,
and
felt
between
my
fingers
again
that
half-gritty
,
half
soft
texture
of
quap
,
like
sanded
moist-sugar
mixed
with
clay
in
which
there
stirs
something-
One
must
feel
it
to
understand
.
All
sorts
of
things
came
to
the
Hardingham
and
offered
themselves
to
my
uncle
.
Gordon-Nasmyth
stands
but
only
because
he
played
a
part
at
last
in
the
crisis
of
our
fortunes
.
So
much
came
to
us
that
it
seemed
to
me
at
times
as
though
the
whole
world
of
human
affairs
was
ready
to
prostitute
itself
to
our
real
and
imaginary
millions
.
As
I
look
back
,
I
am
still
dazzled
and
incredulous
to
think
of
the
quality
of
our
opportunities
.
We
did
the
most
extraordinary
things
;
things
that
it
seems
absurd
to
me
to
leave
to
any
casual
man
of
wealth
and
enterprise
who
cares
to
do
them
.
I
had
some
amazing
perceptions
of
just
how
modern
thought
and
the
supply
of
fact
to
the
general
mind
may
be
controlled
by
money
.
Among
other
things
that
my
uncle
offered
for
,
he
tried
very
hard
to
buy
the
British
Medical
Journal
and
the
Lancet
,
and
run
them
on
what
he
called
modern
lines
,
and
when
they
resisted
him
he
talked
very
vigorously
for
a
time
of
organising
a
rival
enterprise
.
That
was
a
very
magnificent
idea
indeed
in
its
way
;
it
would
have
given
a
tremendous
advantage
in
the
handling
of
innumerable
specialties
and
indeed
I
scarcely
know
how
far
it
would
not
have
put
the
medical
profession
in
our
grip
.
It
still
amazes
me-I
shall
die
amazed-that
such
a
thing
can
be
possible
in
the
modern
state
.
If
my
uncle
failed
to
bring
the
thing
off
,
some
one
else
may
succeed
.
But
I
doubt
,
even
if
he
had
got
both
these
weeklies
,
whether
his
peculiar
style
would
have
suited
them
.
The
change
of
purpose
would
have
shown
.
He
would
have
found
it
difficult
to
keep
up
their
dignity
.
He
certainly
did
not
keep
up
the
dignity
of
the
Sacred
Grove
,
an
important
critical
organ
which
he
acquired
one
day-by
saying
"
snap
"
-for
eight
hundred
pounds
.
He
got
it
"
lock
,
stock
and
barrel
"
-under
one
or
other
of
which
three
aspects
the
editor
was
included
.
Even
at
that
price
it
did
n't
pay
.
If
you
are
a
literary
person
you
will
remember
the
bright
new
cover
he
gave
that
representative
organ
of
British
intellectual
culture
,
and
how
his
sound
business
instincts
jarred
with
the
exalted
pretensions
of
a
vanishing
age
.
One
old
wrapper
I
discovered
the
other
day
runs
:
-
"
THE
SACRED
GROVE
.
"
Weekly
Magazine
of
Art
,
Philosophy
,
Science
and
Belles
Lettres
.
-----------------------
HAVE
YOU
A
NASTY
TASTE
IN
YOUR
MOUTH
?
IT
IS
LIVER
.
YOU
NEED
ONE
TWENTY-THREE
PILL
.
(
JUST
ONE
.
)
NOT
A
DRUG
BUT
A
LIVE
AMERICAN
REMEDY
.
------------------------
CONTENTS
.
A
Hitherto
Unpublished
Letter
from
Walter
Pater
.
Charlotte
Bronte
's
Maternal
Great
Aunt
.
A
New
Catholic
History
of
England
.
The
Genius
of
Shakespeare
.
Correspondence
:
-The
Mendelian
Hypothesis
;
The
Split
Infinitive
;
"
Commence
,
"
or
"
Begin
;
"
Claverhouse
;
Socialism
and
the
Individual
;
The
Dignity
of
Letters
.
Folk-lore
Gossip
.
The
Stage
;
the
Paradox
of
Acting
.
Travel
Biography
,
Verse
,
Fiction
,
etc.
--------------------------
THE
BEST
PILL
IN
THE
WORLD
FOR
AN
IRREGULAR
LIVER
I
suppose
it
is
some
lingering
traces
of
the
Bladesover
tradition
to
me
that
makes
this
combination
of
letters
and
pills
seem
so
incongruous
,
just
as
I
suppose
it
is
a
lingering
trace
of
Plutarch
and
my
ineradicable
boyish
imagination
that
at
bottom
our
State
should
be
wise
,
sane
and
dignified
,
that
makes
me
think
a
country
which
leaves
its
medical
and
literary
criticism
,
or
indeed
any
such
vitally
important
criticism
,
entirely
to
private
enterprise
and
open
to
the
advances
of
any
purchaser
must
be
in
a
frankly
hopeless
condition
.
These
are
ideal
conceptions
of
mine
.
As
a
matter
of
fact
,
nothing
would
be
more
entirely
natural
and
representative
of
the
relations
of
learning
,
thought
and
the
economic
situation
in
the
world
at
the
present
time
than
this
cover
of
the
Sacred
Grove-the
quiet
conservatism
of
the
one
element
embedded
in
the
aggressive
brilliance
of
the
other
;
the
contrasted
notes
of
bold
physiological
experiment
and
extreme
mental
immobility
.
There
comes
back
,
too
,
among
these
Hardingham
memories
,
an
impression
of
a
drizzling
November
day
,
and
how
we
looked
out
of
the
windows
upon
a
procession
of
the
London
unemployed
.
It
was
like
looking
down
a
well
into
some
momentarily
revealed
nether
world
.
Some
thousands
of
needy
ineffectual
men
had
been
raked
together
to
trail
their
spiritless
misery
through
the
West
Eire
with
an
appeal
that
was
also
in
its
way
a
weak
and
insubstantial
threat
:
"
It
is
Work
we
need
,
not
Charity
.
"
There
they
were
,
half-phantom
through
the
fog
,
a
silent
,
foot-dragging
,
interminable
,
grey
procession
.
They
carried
wet
,
dirty
banners
,
they
rattled
boxes
for
pence
;
these
men
who
had
not
said
"
snap
"
in
the
right
place
,
the
men
who
had
"
snapped
"
too
eagerly
,
the
men
who
had
never
said
"
snap
,
"
the
men
who
had
never
had
a
chance
of
saying
"
snap
.
"
A
shambling
,
shameful
stream
they
made
,
oozing
along
the
street
,
the
gutter
waste
of
competitive
civilisation
.
And
we
stood
high
out
of
it
all
,
as
high
as
if
we
looked
godlike
from
another
world
,
standing
in
a
room
beautifully
lit
and
furnished
,
skillfully
warmed
,
filled
with
costly
things
.
"
There
,
"
thought
I
,
"
but
for
the
grace
of
God
,
go
George
and
Edward
Ponderevo
.
"
But
my
uncle
's
thoughts
ran
in
a
different
channel
,
and
he
made
that
vision
the
test
of
a
spirited
but
inconclusive
harangue
upon
Tariff
Reform
.
CHAPTER
THE
SECOND
OUR
PROGRESS
FROM
CAMDEN
TOWN
TO
CREST
HILL
So
far
my
history
of
my
aunt
and
uncle
has
dealt
chiefly
with
his
industrial
and
financial
exploits
.
But
side
by
side
with
that
history
of
inflation
from
the
infinitesimal
to
the
immense
is
another
development
,
the
change
year
by
year
from
the
shabby
impecuniosity
of
the
Camden
Town
lodging
to
the
lavish
munificence
of
the
Crest
Hill
marble
staircase
and
my
aunt
's
golden
bed
,
the
bed
that
was
facsimiled
from
Fontainebleau
.
And
the
odd
thing
is
that
as
I
come
to
this
nearer
part
of
my
story
I
find
it
much
more
difficult
to
tell
than
the
clear
little
perspective
memories
of
the
earlier
days
.
Impressions
crowd
upon
one
another
and
overlap
one
another
;
I
was
presently
to
fall
in
love
again
,
to
be
seized
by
a
passion
to
which
I
still
faintly
respond
,
a
passion
that
still
clouds
my
mind
.
I
came
and
went
between
Ealing
and
my
aunt
and
uncle
,
and
presently
between
Effie
and
clubland
,
and
then
between
business
and
a
life
of
research
that
became
far
more
continuous
,
infinitely
more
consecutive
and
memorable
than
any
of
these
other
sets
of
experiences
.
I
did
n't
witness
a
regular
social
progress
therefore
;
my
aunt
and
uncle
went
up
in
the
world
,
so
far
as
I
was
concerned
,
as
if
they
were
displayed
by
an
early
cinematograph
,
with
little
jumps
and
flickers
.
As
I
recall
this
side
of
our
life
,
the
figure
of
my
round-eyes
,
button-nosed
,
pink-and-white
Aunt
Susan
tends
always
to
the
central
position
.
We
drove
the
car
and
sustained
the
car
,
she
sat
in
it
with
a
magnificent
variety
of
headgear
poised
upon
her
delicate
neck
,
and
always
with
that
faint
ghost
of
a
lisp
no
misspelling
can
render-commented
on
and
illuminated
the
new
aspects
.
I
've
already
sketched
the
little
home
behind
the
Wimblehurst
chemist
's
shop
,
the
lodging
near
the
Cobden
statue
,
and
the
apartments
in
Gower
Street
.
Thence
my
aunt
and
uncle
went
into
a
flat
in
Redgauntlet
Mansions
.
There
they
lived
when
I
married
.
It
was
a
compact
flat
,
with
very
little
for
a
woman
to
do
in
it
In
those
days
my
aunt
,
I
think
,
used
to
find
the
time
heavy
upon
her
hands
,
and
so
she
took
to
books
and
reading
,
and
after
a
time
even
to
going
to
lectures
in
the
afternoon
.
I
began
to
find
unexpected
books
upon
her
table
:
sociological
books
,
travels
,
Shaw
's
plays
.
"
Hullo
!
"
I
said
,
at
the
sight
of
some
volume
of
the
latter
.
"
I
'm
keeping
a
mind
,
George
,
"
she
explained
.
"
Eh
?
"
"
Keeping
a
mind
.
Dogs
I
never
cared
for
.
It
's
been
a
toss-up
between
setting
up
a
mind
and
setting
up
a
soul
.
It
's
jolly
lucky
for
Him
and
you
it
's
a
mind
.
I
've
joined
the
London
Library
,
and
I
'm
going
in
for
the
Royal
Institution
and
every
blessed
lecture
that
comes
along
next
winter
.
You
'd
better
look
out
.
"
...
And
I
remember
her
coming
in
late
one
evening
with
a
note-book
in
her
hand
.
"
Where
ya
been
,
Susan
?
"
said
my
uncle
.
"
Birkbeck-Physiology
.
I
'm
getting
on
.
"
She
sat
down
and
took
off
her
gloves
.
"
You
're
just
glass
to
me
,
"
she
sighed
,
and
then
in
a
note
of
grave
reproach
:
"
You
old
PACKAGE
!
I
had
no
idea
!
The
Things
you
've
kept
from
me
!
"
Presently
they
were
setting
;
up
the
house
at
Beckengham
,
and
my
aunt
intermitted
her
intellectual
activities
.
The
house
at
Beckengham
was
something
of
an
enterprise
for
them
at
that
time
,
a
reasonably
large
place
by
the
standards
of
the
early
years
of
Tono-Bungay
.
It
was
a
big
,
rather
gaunt
villa
,
with
a
conservatory
and
a
shrubbery
,
a
tennis-lawn
,
a
quite
considerable
vegetable
garden
,
and
a
small
disused
coach-house
.
I
had
some
glimpses
of
the
excitements
of
its
inauguration
,
but
not
many
because
of
the
estrangement
between
my
aunt
and
Marion
.
My
aunt
went
into
that
house
with
considerable
zest
,
and
my
uncle
distinguished
himself
by
the
thoroughness
with
which
he
did
the
repainting
and
replumbing
.
He
had
all
the
drains
up
and
most
of
the
garden
with
them
,
and
stood
administrative
on
heaps-administrating
whisky
to
the
workmen
.
I
found
him
there
one
day
,
most
Napoleonic
,
on
a
little
Elba
of
dirt
,
in
an
atmosphere
that
defies
print
.
He
also
,
I
remember
,
chose
what
he
considered
cheerful
contrasts
of
colours
for
the
painting
of
the
woodwork
.
This
exasperated
my
aunt
extremely-she
called
him
a
"
Pestilential
old
Splosher
"
with
an
unusual
note
of
earnestness-and
he
also
enraged
her
into
novelties
of
abuse
by
giving
each
bedroom
the
name
of
some
favourite
hero-Cliff
,
Napoleon
,
Caesar
,
and
so
forth-and
having
it
painted
on
the
door
in
gilt
letters
on
a
black
label
.
"
Martin
Luther
"
was
kept
for
me
.
Only
her
respect
for
domestic
discipline
,
she
said
,
prevented
her
retaliating
with
"
Old
Pondo
"
on
the
housemaid
's
cupboard
.
Also
he
went
and
ordered
one
of
the
completest
sets
of
garden
requisites
I
have
ever
seen-and
had
them
all
painted
a
hard
clear
blue
.
My
aunt
got
herself
large
tins
of
a
kindlier
hued
enamel
and
had
everything
secretly
recoated
,
and
this
done
,
she
found
great
joy
in
the
garden
and
became
an
ardent
rose
grower
and
herbaceous
borderer
,
leaving
her
Mind
,
indeed
,
to
damp
evenings
and
the
winter
months
.
When
I
think
of
her
at
Beckenham
,
I
always
think
first
of
her
as
dressed
in
that
blue
cotton
stuff
she
affected
,
with
her
arms
in
huge
gauntleted
gardening
gloves
,
a
trowel
in
one
hand
and
a
small
but
no
doubt
hardy
and
promising
annual
,
limp
and
very
young-looking
and
sheepish
,
in
the
other
.
Beckenham
,
in
the
persons
of
a
vicar
,
a
doctor
's
wife
,
and
a
large
proud
lady
called
Hogberry
,
"
called
"
on
my
uncle
and
aunt
almost
at
once
,
so
soon
in
fact
as
the
lawn
was
down
again
,
and
afterwards
my
aunt
made
friends
with
a
quiet
gentlewoman
next
door
,
a
propos
of
an
overhanging
cherry
tree
and
the
need
of
repairing
the
party
fence
.
So
she
resumed
her
place
in
society
from
which
she
had
fallen
with
the
disaster
of
Wimblehurst
.
She
made
a
partially
facetious
study
of
the
etiquette
of
her
position
,
had
cards
engraved
and
retaliated
calls
.
And
then
she
received
a
card
for
one
of
Mrs.
Hogberry
's
At
Homes
,
gave
an
old
garden
party
herself
,
participated
in
a
bazaar
and
sale
of
work
,
and
was
really
becoming
quite
cheerfully
entangled
in
Beckenham
society
when
she
was
suddenly
taken
up
by
the
roots
again
by
my
uncle
and
transplanted
to
Chiselhurst
.
"
Old
Trek
,
George
,
"
she
said
compactly
,
"
Onward
and
Up
,
"
when
I
found
her
superintending
the
loading
of
two
big
furniture
vans
.
"
Go
up
and
say
good-bye
to
'
Martin
Luther
,
'
and
then
I
'll
see
what
you
can
do
to
help
me
.
"
I
look
into
the
jumbled
stores
of
the
middle
distance
of
memory
,
and
Beckenham
seems
to
me
a
quite
transitory
phase
.
But
really
they
were
there
several
years
;
through
nearly
all
my
married
life
,
in
fact
,
and
far
longer
than
the
year
and
odd
months
we
lived
together
at
Wimblehurst
.
But
the
Wimblehurst
time
with
them
is
fuller
in
my
memory
by
far
then
the
Beckenham
period
.
There
comes
back
to
me
with
a
quite
considerable
amount
of
detail
the
effect
of
that
garden
party
of
my
aunt
's
and
of
a
little
social
misbehaviour
of
which
I
was
guilty
on
that
occasion
.
It
's
like
a
scrap
from
another
life
.
It
's
all
set
in
what
is
for
me
a
kind
of
cutaneous
feeling
,
the
feeling
of
rather
ill-cut
city
clothes
,
frock
coat
and
grey
trousers
,
and
of
a
high
collar
and
tie
worn
in
sunshine
among
flowers
.
I
have
still
a
quite
vivid
memory
of
the
little
trapezoidal
lawn
,
of
the
gathering
,
and
particularly
of
the
hats
and
feathers
of
the
gathering
,
of
the
parlour-maid
and
the
blue
tea-cups
,
and
of
the
magnificent
presence
of
Mrs.
Hogberry
and
of
her
clear
,
resonant
voice
.
It
was
a
voice
that
would
have
gone
with
a
garden
party
on
a
larger
scale
;
it
went
into
adjacent
premises
;
it
included
the
gardener
who
was
far
up
the
vegetable
patch
and
technically
out
of
play
.
The
only
other
men
were
my
aunt
's
doctor
,
two
of
the
clergy
,
amiable
contrasted
men
,
and
Mrs.
Hogberry
's
imperfectly
grown-up
son
,
a
youth
just
bursting
into
collar
.
The
rest
were
women
,
except
for
a
young
girl
or
so
in
a
state
of
speechless
good
behaviour
.
Marion
also
was
there
.
Marion
and
I
had
arrived
a
little
estranged
,
and
I
remember
her
as
a
silent
presence
,
a
shadow
across
all
that
sunlit
emptiness
of
intercourse
.
We
had
embittered
each
other
with
one
of
those
miserable
little
disputes
that
seemed
so
unavoidable
between
us
.
She
had
,
with
the
help
of
Smithie
,
dressed
rather
elaborately
for
the
occasion
,
and
when
she
saw
me
prepared
to
accompany
her
in
,
I
think
it
was
a
grey
suit
,
she
protested
that
silk
hat
and
frock
coat
were
imperative
.
I
was
recalcitrant
,
she
quoted
an
illustrated
paper
showing
a
garden
party
with
the
King
present
,
and
finally
I
capitulated-but
after
my
evil
habit
,
resentfully
...
.
Eh
,
dear
!
those
old
quarrels
,
how
pitiful
they
were
,
how
trivial
!
And
how
sorrowful
they
are
to
recall
!
I
think
they
grow
more
sorrowful
as
I
grow
older
,
and
all
the
small
passionate
reasons
for
our
mutual
anger
fade
and
fade
out
of
memory
.
The
impression
that
Beckenham
company
has
left
on
my
mind
is
one
of
a
modest
unreality
;
they
were
all
maintaining
a
front
of
unspecified
social
pretension
,
and
evading
the
display
of
the
economic
facts
of
the
case
.
Most
of
the
husbands
were
"
in
business
"
off
stage
,
it
would
have
been
outrageous
to
ask
what
the
business
was-and
the
wives
were
giving
their
energies
to
produce
,
with
the
assistance
of
novels
and
the
illustrated
magazines
,
a
moralised
version
of
the
afternoon
life
of
the
aristocratic
class
.
They
had
n't
the
intellectual
or
moral
enterprise
of
the
upper-class
woman
,
they
had
no
political
interests
,
they
had
no
views
about
anything
,
and
consequently
they
were
,
I
remember
,
extremely
difficult
to
talk
to
.
They
all
sat
about
in
the
summer-house
and
in
garden-chairs
,
and
were
very
hatty
and
ruffley
and
sunshady
.
Three
ladies
and
the
curate
played
croquet
with
a
general
immense
gravity
,
broken
by
occasional
loud
cries
of
feigned
distress
from
the
curate
.
"
Oh
!
Whacking
me
about
again
!
Augh
!
"
The
dominant
social
fact
that
afternoon
was
Mrs.
Hogberry
;
she
took
up
a
certain
position
commanding
the
croquet
and
went
on
,
as
my
aunt
said
to
me
in
an
incidental
aside
,
"
like
an
old
Roundabout
.
"
She
talked
of
the
way
in
which
Beckenham
society
was
getting
mixed
,
and
turned
on
to
a
touching
letter
she
had
recently
received
from
her
former
nurse
at
Little
Gossdean
.
Followed
a
loud
account
of
Little
Gossdean
and
how
much
she
and
her
eight
sisters
had
been
looked
up
to
there
.
"
My
poor
mother
was
quite
a
little
Queen
there
,
"
she
said
.
"
And
such
NICE
Common
people
!
People
say
the
country
labourers
are
getting
disrespectful
nowadays
.
It
is
n't
so-not
if
they
're
properly
treated
.
Here
of
course
in
Beckenham
it
's
different
.
I
wo
n't
call
the
people
we
get
here
a
Poor-they
're
certainly
not
a
proper
Poor
.
They
're
Masses
.
I
always
tell
Mr.
Bugshoot
they
're
Masses
,
and
ought
to
be
treated
as
such
.
"
...
Dim
memories
of
Mrs.
Mackridge
floated
through
my
mind
as
I
listened
to
her
...
.
I
was
whirled
on
this
roundabout
for
a
bit
,
and
then
had
the
fortune
to
fall
off
into
a
tete-a-tete
with
a
lady
whom
my
aunt
introduced
as
Mrs.
Mumble-but
then
she
introduced
everybody
to
me
as
Mumble
that
afternoon
,
either
by
way
of
humour
or
necessity
.
That
must
have
been
one
of
my
earliest
essays
in
the
art
of
polite
conversation
,
and
I
remember
that
I
began
by
criticising
the
local
railway
service
,
and
that
at
the
third
sentence
or
thereabouts
Mrs.
Mumble
said
in
a
distinctly
bright
and
encouraging
way
that
she
feared
I
was
a
very
"
frivolous
"
person
.
I
wonder
now
what
it
was
I
said
that
was
"
frivolous
.
"
I
do
n't
know
what
happened
to
end
that
conversation
,
or
if
it
had
an
end
.
I
remember
talking
to
one
of
the
clergy
for
a
time
rather
awkwardly
,
and
being
given
a
sort
of
topographical
history
of
Beckenham
,
which
he
assured
me
time
after
time
was
"
Quite
an
old
place
.
Quite
an
old
place
.
"
As
though
I
had
treated
it
as
new
and
he
meant
to
be
very
patient
but
very
convincing
.
Then
we
hung
up
in
a
distinct
pause
,
and
my
aunt
rescued
me
.
"
George
,
"
she
said
in
a
confidential
undertone
,
"
keep
the
pot
a-boiling
.
"
And
then
audibly
,
"
I
say
,
will
you
both
old
trot
about
with
tea
a
bit
?
"
"
Only
too
delighted
to
TROT
for
you
,
Mrs.
Ponderevo
,
"
said
the
clergyman
,
becoming
fearfully
expert
and
in
his
elements
;
"
only
too
delighted
.
"
I
found
we
were
near
a
rustic
table
,
and
that
the
housemaid
was
behind
us
in
a
suitable
position
to
catch
us
on
the
rebound
with
the
tea
things
.
"
Trot
!
"
repeated
the
clergyman
to
me
,
much
amused
;
"
excellent
expression
!
"
And
I
just
saved
him
from
the
tray
as
he
turned
about
.
We
handed
tea
for
a
while
...
.
"
Give
'
em
cakes
,
"
said
my
aunt
,
flushed
,
but
well
in
hand
.
"
Helps
'
em
to
talk
,
George
.
Always
talk
best
after
a
little
nourishment
.
Like
throwing
a
bit
of
turf
down
an
old
geyser
.
"
She
surveyed
the
gathering
with
a
predominant
blue
eye
and
helped
herself
to
tea
.
"
They
keep
on
going
stiff
,
"
she
said
in
an
undertone
...
.
"
I
've
done
my
best
.
"
"
It
's
been
a
huge
success
,
"
I
said
encouragingly
.
"
That
boy
has
had
his
legs
crossed
in
that
position
and
has
n't
spoken
for
ten
minutes
.
Stiffer
and
stiffer
.
Brittle
.
He
's
beginning
a
dry
cough-always
a
bad
sign
,
George
...
.
Walk
'
em
about
,
shall
I
?
-rub
their
noses
with
snow
?
"
Happily
she
did
n't
.
I
got
myself
involved
with
the
gentlewoman
from
next
door
,
a
pensive
,
languid-looking
little
woman
with
a
low
voice
,
and
fell
talking
;
our
topic
,
Cats
and
Dogs
,
and
which
it
was
we
liked
best
.
"
I
always
feel
,
"
said
the
pensive
little
woman
,
"
that
there
's
something
about
a
dog-A
cat
has
n't
got
it
.
"
"
Yes
,
"
I
found
myself
admitting
with
great
enthusiasm
,
"
there
is
something
.
And
yet
again-
"
"
Oh
!
I
know
there
's
something
about
a
cat
,
too
.
But
it
is
n't
the
same
.
"
"
Not
quite
the
same
,
"
I
admitted
;
"
but
still
it
's
something
.
"
"
Ah
!
But
such
a
different
something
!
"
"
More
sinuous
.
"
"
Much
more
.
"
"
Ever
so
much
more
.
"
"
It
makes
all
the
difference
,
do
n't
you
think
?
"
"
Yes
,
"
I
said
,
"
ALL
.
"
She
glanced
at
me
gravely
and
sighed
a
long
,
deeply
felt
"
Yes
.
"
A
long
pause
.
The
thing
seemed
to
me
to
amount
to
a
stale-mate
.
Fear
came
into
my
heart
and
much
perplexity
.
"
The-er-Roses
,
"
I
said
.
I
felt
like
a
drowning
man
.
"
Those
roses-do
n't
you
think
they
are-very
beautiful
flowers
?
"
"
Are
n't
they
!
"
she
agreed
gently
.
"
There
seems
to
be
something
in
roses-something-I
do
n't
know
how
to
express
it
.
"
"
Something
,
"
I
said
helpfully
.
"
Yes
,
"
she
said
,
"
something
.
Is
n't
there
?
"
"
So
few
people
see
it
,
"
I
said
;
"
more
's
the
pity
!
"
She
sighed
and
said
again
very
softly
,
"
Yes
.
"
...
There
was
another
long
pause
.
I
looked
at
her
and
she
was
thinking
dreamily
.
The
drowning
sensation
returned
,
the
fear
and
enfeeblement
.
I
perceived
by
a
sort
of
inspiration
that
her
tea-cup
was
empty
.
"
Let
me
take
your
cup
,
"
I
said
abruptly
,
and
,
that
secured
,
made
for
the
table
by
the
summer-house
.
I
had
no
intention
then
of
deserting
my
aunt
.
But
close
at
hand
the
big
French
window
of
the
drawing-room
yawned
inviting
and
suggestive
.
I
can
feel
all
that
temptation
now
,
and
particularly
the
provocation
of
my
collar
.
In
an
instant
I
was
lost
.
I
would-Just
for
a
moment
!
I
dashed
in
,
put
down
the
cup
on
the
keys
of
the
grand
piano
and
fled
upstairs
,
softly
,
swiftly
,
three
steps
at
a
time
,
to
the
sanctuary
of
my
uncle
's
study
,
his
snuggery
.
I
arrived
there
breathless
,
convinced
there
was
no
return
for
me
.
I
was
very
glad
and
ashamed
of
myself
,
and
desperate
.
By
means
of
a
penknife
I
contrived
to
break
open
his
cabinet
of
cigars
,
drew
a
chair
to
the
window
,
took
off
my
coat
,
collar
and
tie
,
and
remained
smoking
guiltily
and
rebelliously
,
and
peeping
through
the
blind
at
the
assembly
on
the
lawn
until
it
was
altogether
gone
...
.
The
clergymen
,
I
thought
,
were
wonderful
.
A
few
such
pictures
of
those
early
days
at
Beckenham
stand
out
,
and
then
I
find
myself
among
the
Chiselhurst
memories
.
The
Chiselhurst
mansion
had
"
grounds
"
rather
than
a
mere
garden
,
and
there
was
a
gardener
's
cottage
and
a
little
lodge
at
the
gate
.
The
ascendant
movement
was
always
far
more
in
evidence
there
than
at
Beckenham
.
The
velocity
was
increasing
.
One
night
picks
itself
out
as
typical
,
as
,
in
its
way
,
marking
an
epoch
.
I
was
there
,
I
think
,
about
some
advertisement
stuff
,
on
some
sort
of
business
anyhow
,
and
my
uncle
and
aunt
had
come
back
in
a
fly
from
a
dinner
at
the
Runcorns
.
(
Even
there
he
was
nibbling
at
Runcorn
with
the
idea
of
our
great
Amalgamation
budding
in
his
mind
.
)
I
got
down
there
,
I
suppose
,
about
eleven
.
I
found
the
two
of
them
sitting
in
the
study
,
my
aunt
on
a
chair-arm
with
a
whimsical
pensiveness
on
her
face
,
regarding
my
uncle
,
and
he
,
much
extended
and
very
rotund
,
in
the
low
arm-chair
drawn
up
to
the
fender
.
"
Look
here
,
George
,
"
said
my
uncle
,
after
my
first
greetings
.
"
I
just
been
saying
:
We
are
n't
Oh
Fay
!
"
"
Eh
?
"
"
Not
Oh
Fay
!
Socially
!
"
"
Old
FLY
,
he
means
,
George-French
!
"
"
Oh
!
Did
n't
think
of
French
.
One
never
knows
where
to
have
him
.
What
's
gone
wrong
to-night
?
"
"
I
been
thinking
.
It
is
n't
any
particular
thing
.
I
ate
too
much
of
that
fishy
stuff
at
first
,
like
salt
frog
spawn
,
and
was
a
bit
confused
by
olives
;
and-well
,
I
did
n't
know
which
wine
was
which
.
Had
to
say
THAT
each
time
.
It
puts
your
talk
all
wrong
.
And
she
was
n't
in
evening
dress
,
not
like
the
others
.
We
ca
n't
go
on
in
that
style
,
George-not
a
proper
ad
.
"
"
I
'm
not
sure
you
were
right
,
"
I
said
,
"
in
having
a
fly
.
"
"
We
got
to
do
it
all
better
,
"
said
my
uncle
,
"
we
got
to
do
it
in
Style
.
Smart
business
,
smart
men
.
She
tries
to
pass
it
off
as
humorous
"
-my
aunt
pulled
a
grimace-
"
it
is
n't
humorous
!
See
!
We
're
on
the
up-grade
now
,
fair
and
square
.
We
're
going
to
be
big
.
We
are
n't
going
to
be
laughed
at
as
Poovenoos
,
see
!
"
"
Nobody
laughed
at
you
,
"
said
my
aunt
.
"
Old
Bladder
!
"
"
Nobody
is
n't
going
to
laugh
at
me
,
"
said
my
uncle
,
glancing
at
his
contours
and
suddenly
sitting
up
.
My
aunt
raised
her
eyebrows
slightly
,
swung
her
foot
,
and
said
nothing
.
"
We
are
n't
keeping
pace
with
our
own
progress
,
George
.
We
got
to
.
We
're
bumping
against
new
people
,
and
they
set
up
to
be
gentlefolks-etiquette
dinners
and
all
the
rest
of
it
.
They
give
themselves
airs
and
expect
us
to
be
fish-out-of-water
.
We
are
n't
going
to
be
.
They
think
we
've
no
Style
.
Well
,
we
give
them
Style
for
our
advertisements
,
and
we
're
going
to
give
'
em
Style
all
through
...
.
You
need
n't
be
born
to
it
to
dance
well
on
the
wires
of
the
Bond
Street
tradesmen
.
See
?
"
I
handed
him
the
cigar-box
.
"
Runcorn
had
n't
cigars
like
these
,
"
he
said
,
truncating
one
lovingly
.
"
We
beat
him
at
cigars
.
We
'll
beat
him
all
round
.
"
My
aunt
and
I
regarded
him
,
full
of
apprehensions
.
"
I
got
idees
,
"
he
said
darkly
to
the
cigar
,
deepening
our
dread
.
He
pocketed
his
cigar-cutter
and
spoke
again
.
"
We
got
to
learn
all
the
rotten
little
game
first
.
See
,
F'rinstance
,
we
got
to
get
samples
of
all
the
blessed
wines
there
are-and
learn
'
em
up
.
Stern
,
Smoor
,
Burgundy
,
all
of
'
em
!
She
took
Stern
to-night-and
when
she
tasted
it
first-you
pulled
a
face
,
Susan
,
you
did
.
I
saw
you
.
It
surprised
you
.
You
bunched
your
nose
.
We
got
to
get
used
to
wine
and
not
do
that
.
We
got
to
get
used
to
wearing
evening
dress-YOU
,
Susan
,
too
.
"
"
Always
have
had
a
tendency
to
stick
out
of
my
clothes
,
"
said
my
aunt
.
"
However-Who
cares
?
"
She
shrugged
her
shoulders
.
I
had
never
seen
my
uncle
so
immensely
serious
.
"
Got
to
get
the
hang
of
etiquette
,
"
he
went
on
to
the
fire
.
"
Horses
even
.
Practise
everything
.
Dine
every
night
in
evening
dress
...
.
Get
a
brougham
or
something
.
Learn
up
golf
and
tennis
and
things
.
Country
gentleman
.
Oh
Fay
.
It
is
n't
only
freedom
from
Goochery
.
"
"
Eh
?
"
I
said
.
"
Oh
!
-Gawshery
,
if
you
like
!
"
"
French
,
George
,
"
said
my
aunt
.
"
But
I
'M
not
ol
'
Gooch
.
I
made
that
face
for
fun
.
"
"
It
is
n't
only
freedom
from
Gawshery
.
We
got
to
have
Style
.
See
!
Style
!
Just
all
right
and
one
better
.
That
's
what
I
call
Style
.
We
can
do
it
,
and
we
will
.
"
He
mumbled
his
cigar
and
smoked
for
a
space
,
leaning
forward
and
looking
into
the
fire
.
"
What
is
it
,
"
he
asked
,
"
after
all
?
What
is
it
?
Tips
about
eating
;
tips
about
drinking
.
Clothes
.
How
to
hold
yourself
,
and
not
say
jes
'
the
few
little
things
they
know
for
certain
are
wrong-jes
'
the
shibboleth
things
.
"
He
was
silent
again
,
and
the
cigar
crept
up
from
the
horizontal
towards
the
zenith
as
the
confidence
of
his
mouth
increased
.
"
Learn
the
whole
bag
of
tricks
in
six
months
.
"
he
said
,
becoming
more
cheerful
.
"
Ah
,
Susan
?
Beat
it
out
!
George
,
you
in
particular
ought
to
get
hold
of
it
.
Ought
to
get
into
a
good
club
,
and
all
that
.
"
"
Always
ready
to
learn
!
"
I
said
.
"
Ever
since
you
gave
me
the
chance
of
Latin
.
So
far
we
do
n't
seem
to
have
hit
upon
any
Latin-speaking
stratum
in
the
population
.
"
"
We
've
come
to
French
,
"
said
my
aunt
,
"
anyhow
.
"
"
It
's
a
very
useful
language
,
"
said
my
uncle
.
"
Put
a
point
on
things
.
Zzzz
.
As
for
accent
,
no
Englishman
has
an
accent
.
No
Englishman
pronounces
French
properly
.
Do
n't
you
tell
ME
.
It
's
a
Bluff.-It
's
all
a
Bluff
.
Life
's
a
Bluff-practically
.
That
's
why
it
's
so
important
,
Susan
,
for
us
to
attend
to
Style
.
Le
Steel
Say
Lum
.
The
Style
it
's
the
man
.
Whad
you
laughing
at
,
Susan
?
George
,
you
're
not
smoking
.
These
cigars
are
good
for
the
mind
...
.
What
do
YOU
think
of
it
all
?
We
got
to
adapt
ourselves
.
We
have-so
far
...
.
Not
going
to
be
beat
by
these
silly
things
.
"
"
What
do
you
think
of
it
,
George
?
"
he
insisted
.
What
I
said
I
thought
of
it
I
do
n't
now
recall
.
Only
I
have
very
distinctly
the
impression
of
meeting
for
a
moment
my
aunt
's
impenetrable
eye
.
And
anyhow
he
started
in
with
his
accustomed
energy
to
rape
the
mysteries
of
the
Costly
Life
,
and
become
the
calmest
of
its
lords
.
On
the
whole
,
I
think
he
did
it-thoroughly
.
I
have
crowded
memories
,
a
little
difficult
to
disentangle
,
of
his
experimental
stages
,
his
experimental
proceedings
.
It
's
hard
at
times
to
say
which
memory
comes
in
front
of
which
.
I
recall
him
as
presenting
on
the
whole
a
series
of
small
surprises
,
as
being
again
and
again
,
unexpectedly
,
a
little
more
self-confident
,
a
little
more
polished
,
a
little
richer
and
finer
,
a
little
more
aware
of
the
positions
and
values
of
things
and
men
.
There
was
a
time-it
must
have
been
very
early-when
I
saw
him
deeply
impressed
by
the
splendours
of
the
dining-room
of
the
National
Liberal
Club
.
Heaven
knows
who
our
host
was
or
what
that
particular
little
"
feed
"
was
about
now
!
-all
that
sticks
is
the
impression
of
our
straggling
entry
,
a
string
of
six
or
seven
guests
,
and
my
uncle
looking
about
him
at
the
numerous
bright
red-shaded
tables
,
at
the
exotics
in
great
Majolica
jars
,
at
the
shining
ceramic
columns
and
pilasters
,
at
the
impressive
portraits
of
Liberal
statesmen
and
heroes
,
and
all
that
contributes
to
the
ensemble
of
that
palatial
spectacle
.
He
was
betrayed
into
a
whisper
to
me
,
"
This
is
all
Right
,
George
!
"
he
said
.
That
artless
comment
seems
almost
incredible
as
I
set
it
down
;
there
came
a
time
so
speedily
when
not
even
the
clubs
of
New
York
could
have
overawed
my
uncle
,
and
when
he
could
walk
through
the
bowing
magnificence
of
the
Royal
Grand
Hotel
to
his
chosen
table
in
that
aggressively
exquisite
gallery
upon
the
river
,
with
all
the
easy
calm
of
one
of
earth
's
legitimate
kings
.
The
two
of
them
learnt
the
new
game
rapidly
and
well
;
they
experimented
abroad
,
they
experimented
at
home
.
At
Chiselhurst
,
with
the
aid
of
a
new
,
very
costly
,
but
highly
instructive
cook
,
they
tried
over
everything
they
heard
of
that
roused
their
curiosity
and
had
any
reputation
for
difficulty
,
from
asparagus
to
plover
's
eggs
.
They
afterwards
got
a
gardener
who
could
wait
at
table-and
he
brought
the
soil
home
to
one
.
Then
there
came
a
butler
.
I
remember
my
aunt
's
first
dinner-gown
very
brightly
,
and
how
she
stood
before
the
fire
in
the
drawing-room
confessing
once
unsuspected
pretty
arms
with
all
the
courage
she
possessed
,
and
looking
over
her
shoulder
at
herself
in
a
mirror
.
"
A
ham
,
"
she
remarked
reflectively
,
"
must
feel
like
this
.
Just
a
necklace
.
"
...
I
attempted
,
I
think
,
some
commonplace
compliment
.
My
uncle
appeared
at
the
door
in
a
white
waistcoat
and
with
his
hands
in
his
trouser
pockets
;
he
halted
and
surveyed
her
critically
.
"
Could
n't
tell
you
from
a
duchess
,
Susan
,
"
he
remarked
.
"
I
'd
like
to
have
you
painted
,
standin
'
at
the
fire
like
that
.
Sargent
!
You
look-spirited
,
somehow
.
Lord
!
-I
wish
some
of
those
damned
tradesmen
at
Wimblehurst
could
see
you
.
"
...
They
did
a
lot
of
week-ending
at
hotels
,
and
sometimes
I
went
down
with
them
.
We
seemed
to
fall
into
a
vast
drifting
crowd
of
social
learners
.
I
do
n't
know
whether
it
is
due
simply
to
my
changed
circumstances
,
but
it
seems
to
me
there
have
been
immensely
disproportionate
developments
of
the
hotel-frequenting
and
restaurant-using
population
during
the
last
twenty
years
.
It
is
not
only
,
I
think
,
that
there
are
crowds
of
people
who
,
like
we
were
,
are
in
the
economically
ascendant
phase
,
but
whole
masses
of
the
prosperous
section
of
the
population
must
be
altering
its
habits
,
giving
up
high-tea
for
dinner
and
taking
to
evening
dress
,
using
the
week-end
hotels
as
a
practise-ground
for
these
new
social
arts
.
A
swift
and
systematic
conversion
to
gentility
has
been
going
on
,
I
am
convinced
,
throughout
the
whole
commercial
upper-middle
class
since
I
was
twenty-one
.
Curiously
mixed
was
the
personal
quality
of
the
people
one
saw
in
these
raids
.
There
were
conscientiously
refined
and
low-voiced
people
reeking
with
proud
bashfulness
;
there
were
aggressively
smart
people
using
pet
diminutives
for
each
other
loudly
and
seeking
fresh
occasions
for
brilliant
rudeness
;
there
were
awkward
husbands
and
wives
quarrelling
furtively
about
their
manners
and
ill
at
ease
under
the
eye
of
the
winter
;
cheerfully
amiable
and
often
discrepant
couples
with
a
disposition
to
inconspicuous
corners
,
and
the
jolly
sort
,
affecting
an
unaffected
ease
;
plump
happy
ladies
who
laughed
too
loud
,
and
gentlemen
in
evening
dress
who
subsequently
"
got
their
pipes
.
"
And
nobody
,
you
knew
,
was
anybody
,
however
expensively
they
dressed
and
whatever
rooms
they
took
.
I
look
back
now
with
a
curious
remoteness
of
spirit
to
those
crowded
dining-rooms
with
their
dispersed
tables
and
their
inevitable
red-shaded
lights
and
the
unsympathetic
,
unskillful
waiters
,
and
the
choice
of
"
Thig
or
Glear
,
Sir
?
"
I
've
not
dined
in
that
way
,
in
that
sort
of
place
,
now
for
five
years-it
must
be
quite
five
years
,
so
specialised
and
narrow
is
my
life
becoming
.
My
uncle
's
earlier
motor-car
phases
work
in
with
these
associations
,
and
there
stands
out
a
little
bright
vignette
of
the
hall
of
the
Magnificent
,
Bexhill-on-Sea
,
and
people
dressed
for
dinner
and
sitting
about
amidst
the
scarlet
furniture-satin
and
white-enameled
woodwork
until
the
gong
should
gather
them
;
and
my
aunt
is
there
,
very
marvelously
wrapped
about
in
a
dust
cloak
and
a
cage-like
veil
,
and
there
are
hotel
porters
and
under-porters
very
alert
,
and
an
obsequious
manager
;
and
the
tall
young
lady
in
black
from
the
office
is
surprised
into
admiration
,
and
in
the
middle
of
the
picture
is
my
uncle
,
making
his
first
appearance
in
that
Esquimaux
costume
I
have
already
mentioned
,
a
short
figure
,
compactly
immense
,
hugely
goggled
,
wearing
a
sort
of
brown
rubber
proboscis
,
and
surmounted
by
a
table-land
of
motoring
cap.
So
it
was
we
recognised
our
new
needs
as
fresh
invaders
of
the
upper
levels
of
the
social
system
,
and
set
ourselves
quite
consciously
to
the
acquisition
of
Style
and
Savoir
Faire
.
We
became
part
of
what
is
nowadays
quite
an
important
element
in
the
confusion
of
our
world
,
that
multitude
of
economically
ascendant
people
who
are
learning
how
to
spend
money
.
It
is
made
up
of
financial
people
,
the
owners
of
the
businesses
that
are
eating
up
their
competitors
,
inventors
of
new
sources
of
wealth
,
such
as
ourselves
;
it
includes
nearly
all
America
as
one
sees
it
on
the
European
stage
.
It
is
a
various
multitude
having
only
this
in
common
:
they
are
all
moving
,
and
particularly
their
womankind
are
moving
,
from
conditions
in
which
means
were
insistently
finite
,
things
were
few
,
and
customs
simple
,
towards
a
limitless
expenditure
and
the
sphere
of
attraction
of
Bond
Street
,
Fifth
Avenue
,
and
Paris
.
Their
general
effect
is
one
of
progressive
revolution
,
of
limitless
rope
.
They
discover
suddenly
indulgences
their
moral
code
never
foresaw
and
has
no
provision
for
,
elaborations
,
ornaments
,
possessions
beyond
their
wildest
dreams
.
With
an
immense
astonished
zest
they
begin
shopping
begin
a
systematic
adaptation
to
a
new
life
crowded
and
brilliant
with
things
shopped
,
with
jewels
,
maids
,
butlers
,
coachmen
,
electric
broughams
,
hired
town
and
country
houses
.
They
plunge
into
it
as
one
plunges
into
a
career
;
as
a
class
,
they
talk
,
think
,
and
dream
possessions
.
Their
literature
,
their
Press
,
turns
all
on
that
;
immense
illustrated
weeklies
of
unsurpassed
magnificence
guide
them
in
domestic
architecture
,
in
the
art
of
owning
a
garden
,
in
the
achievement
of
the
sumptuous
in
motor-cars
,
in
an
elaborate
sporting
equipment
,
in
the
purchase
and
control
of
their
estates
,
in
travel
and
stupendous
hotels
.
Once
they
begin
to
move
they
go
far
and
fast
.
Acquisition
becomes
the
substance
of
their
lives
.
They
find
a
world
organised
to
gratify
that
passion
.
In
a
brief
year
or
so
they
are
connoisseurs
.
They
join
in
the
plunder
of
the
eighteenth
century
,
buy
rare
old
books
,
fine
old
pictures
,
good
old
furniture
.
Their
first
crude
conception
of
dazzling
suites
of
the
newly
perfect
is
replaced
almost
from
the
outset
by
a
jackdaw
dream
of
accumulating
costly
discrepant
old
things
.
I
seem
to
remember
my
uncle
taking
to
shopping
quite
suddenly
.
In
the
Beckenham
days
and
in
the
early
Chiselhurst
days
he
was
chiefly
interested
in
getting
money
,
and
except
for
his
onslaught
on
the
Beckenham
house
,
bothered
very
little
about
his
personal
surroundings
and
possessions
.
I
forget
now
when
the
change
came
and
he
began
to
spend
.
Some
accident
must
have
revealed
to
him
this
new
source
of
power
,
or
some
subtle
shifting
occurred
in
the
tissues
of
his
brain
.
He
began
to
spend
and
"
shop
.
"
So
soon
as
he
began
to
shop
,
he
began
to
shop
violently
.
He
began
buying
pictures
,
and
then
,
oddly
enough
,
old
clocks
.
For
the
Chiselhurst
house
he
bought
nearly
a
dozen
grandfather
clocks
and
three
copper
warming
pans
.
After
that
he
bought
much
furniture
.
Then
he
plunged
into
art
patronage
,
and
began
to
commission
pictures
and
to
make
presents
to
churches
and
institutions
.
His
buying
increased
with
a
regular
acceleration
.
Its
development
was
a
part
of
the
mental
changes
that
came
to
him
in
the
wild
excitements
of
the
last
four
years
of
his
ascent
.
Towards
the
climax
he
was
a
furious
spender
;
he
shopped
with
large
unexpected
purchases
,
he
shopped
like
a
mind
seeking
expression
,
he
shopped
to
astonish
and
dismay
;
shopped
crescendo
,
shopped
fortissimo
,
con
molto
espressione
until
the
magnificent
smash
of
Crest
Hill
eroded
his
shopping
for
ever
.
Always
it
was
he
who
shopped
.
My
aunt
did
not
shine
as
a
purchaser
.
It
is
a
curious
thing
,
due
to
I
know
not
what
fine
strain
in
her
composition
,
that
my
aunt
never
set
any
great
store
upon
possessions
.
She
plunged
through
that
crowded
bazaar
of
Vanity
Fair
during
those
feverish
years
,
spending
no
doubt
freely
and
largely
,
but
spending
with
detachment
and
a
touch
of
humorous
contempt
for
the
things
,
even
the
"
old
"
things
,
that
money
can
buy
.
It
came
to
me
suddenly
one
afternoon
just
how
detached
she
was
,
as
I
saw
her
going
towards
the
Hardingham
,
sitting
up
,
as
she
always
did
,
rather
stiffly
in
her
electric
brougham
,
regarding
the
glittering
world
with
interested
and
ironically
innocent
blue
eyes
from
under
the
brim
of
a
hat
that
defied
comment
.
"
No
one
,
"
I
thought
,
"
would
sit
so
apart
if
she
had
n't
dreams-and
what
are
her
dreams
?
"
I
'd
never
thought
.
And
I
remember
,
too
,
an
outburst
of
scornful
description
after
she
had
lunched
with
a
party
of
women
at
the
Imperial
Cosmic
Club
.
She
came
round
to
my
rooms
on
the
chance
of
finding
me
there
,
and
I
gave
her
tea
.
She
professed
herself
tired
and
cross
,
and
flung
herself
into
my
chair
...
.
"
George
,
"
she
cried
,
"
the
Things
women
are
!
Do
I
stink
of
money
?
"
"
Lunching
?
"
I
asked
.
She
nodded
.
"
Plutocratic
ladies
?
"
"
Yes
.
"
"
Oriental
type
?
"
"
Oh
!
Like
a
burst
hareem
!
...
Bragging
of
possessions
...
.
They
feel
you
.
They
feel
your
clothes
,
George
,
to
see
if
they
are
good
!
"
I
soothed
her
as
well
as
I
could
.
"
They
ARE
Good
are
n't
they
?
"
I
said
.
"
It
's
the
old
pawnshop
in
their
blood
,
"
she
said
,
drinking
tea
;
and
then
in
infinite
disgust
,
"
They
run
their
hands
over
your
clothes-they
paw
you
.
"
I
had
a
moment
of
doubt
whether
perhaps
she
had
not
been
discovered
in
possession
of
unsuspected
forgeries
.
I
do
n't
know
.
After
that
my
eyes
were
quickened
,
and
I
began
to
see
for
myself
women
running
their
hands
over
other
women
's
furs
,
scrutinising
their
lace
,
even
demanding
to
handle
jewelry
,
appraising
,
envying
,
testing
.
They
have
a
kind
of
etiquette
.
The
woman
who
feels
says
,
"
What
beautiful
sables
?
"
"
What
lovely
lace
?
"
The
woman
felt
admits
proudly
:
"
It
's
Real
,
you
know
,
"
or
disavows
pretension
modestly
and
hastily
,
"
It
's
Rot
Good
.
"
In
each
other
's
houses
they
peer
at
the
pictures
,
handle
the
selvage
of
hangings
,
look
at
the
bottoms
of
china
...
.
I
wonder
if
it
IS
the
old
pawnshop
in
the
blood
.
I
doubt
if
Lady
Drew
and
the
Olympians
did
that
sort
of
thing
,
but
here
I
may
be
only
clinging
to
another
of
my
former
illusions
about
aristocracy
and
the
State
.
Perhaps
always
possessions
have
been
Booty
,
and
never
anywhere
has
there
been
such
a
thing
as
house
and
furnishings
native
and
natural
to
the
women
and
men
who
made
use
of
them
...
.
For
me
,
at
least
,
it
marked
an
epoch
in
my
uncle
's
career
when
I
learnt
one
day
that
he
had
"
shopped
"
Lady
Grove
.
I
realised
a
fresh
,
wide
,
unpreluded
step
.
He
took
me
by
surprise
with
the
sudden
change
of
scale
from
such
portable
possessions
as
jewels
and
motor-cars
to
a
stretch
of
countryside
.
The
transaction
was
Napoleonic
;
he
was
told
of
the
place
;
he
said
"
snap
"
;
there
were
no
preliminary
desirings
or
searchings
.
Then
he
came
home
and
said
what
he
had
done
.
Even
my
aunt
was
for
a
day
or
so
measurably
awestricken
by
this
exploit
in
purchase
,
and
we
both
went
down
with
him
to
see
the
house
in
a
mood
near
consternation
.
It
struck
us
then
as
a
very
lordly
place
indeed
.
I
remember
the
three
of
us
standing
on
the
terrace
that
looked
westward
,
surveying
the
sky-reflecting
windows
of
the
house
,
and
a
feeling
of
unwarrantable
intrusion
comes
back
to
me
.
Lady
Grove
,
you
know
,
is
a
very
beautiful
house
indeed
,
a
still
and
gracious
place
,
whose
age-long
seclusion
was
only
effectively
broken
with
the
toot
of
the
coming
of
the
motor-car
.
An
old
Catholic
family
had
died
out
in
it
,
century
by
century
,
and
was
now
altogether
dead
.
Portions
of
the
fabric
are
thirteenth
century
,
and
its
last
architectural
revision
was
Tudor
;
within
,
it
is
for
the
most
part
dark
and
chilly
,
save
for
two
or
three
favoured
rooms
and
its
tall-windowed
,
oak-galleried
hall
.
Its
terrace
is
its
noblest
feature
;
a
very
wide
,
broad
lawn
it
is
,
bordered
by
a
low
stone
battlement
,
and
there
is
a
great
cedar
in
one
corner
under
whose
level
branches
one
looks
out
across
the
blue
distances
of
the
Weald
,
blue
distances
that
are
made
extraordinarily
Italian
in
quality
by
virtue
of
the
dark
masses
of
that
single
tree
.
It
is
a
very
high
terrace
;
southward
one
looks
down
upon
the
tops
of
wayfaring
trees
and
spruces
,
and
westward
on
a
steep
slope
of
beechwood
,
through
which
the
road
comes
.
One
turns
back
to
the
still
old
house
,
and
sees
a
grey
and
lichenous
facade
with
a
very
finely
arched
entrance
.
It
was
warmed
by
the
afternoon
light
and
touched
with
the
colour
of
a
few
neglected
roses
and
a
pyracanthus
.
It
seemed
to
me
that
the
most
modern
owner
conceivable
in
this
serene
fine
place
was
some
bearded
scholarly
man
in
a
black
cassock
,
gentle-voiced
and
white-handed
,
or
some
very
soft-robed
,
grey
gentlewoman
.
And
there
was
my
uncle
holding
his
goggles
in
a
sealskin
glove
,
wiping
the
glass
with
a
pocket-handkerchief
,
and
asking
my
aunt
if
Lady
Grove
was
n't
a
"
Bit
of
all
Right
.
"
My
aunt
made
him
no
answer
.
"
The
man
who
built
this
,
"
I
speculated
,
"
wore
armour
and
carried
a
sword
.
"
"
There
's
some
of
it
inside
still
,
"
said
my
uncle
.
We
went
inside
.
An
old
woman
with
very
white
hair
was
in
charge
of
the
place
and
cringed
rather
obviously
to
the
new
master
.
She
evidently
found
him
a
very
strange
and
frightful
apparition
indeed
,
and
was
dreadfully
afraid
of
him
.
But
if
the
surviving
present
bowed
down
to
us
,
the
past
did
not
.
We
stood
up
to
the
dark
,
long
portraits
of
the
extinguished
race-one
was
a
Holbein-and
looked
them
in
their
sidelong
eyes
.
They
looked
back
at
us
.
We
all
,
I
know
,
felt
the
