the patrician-第3章

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breed　absolutely　true　to　type。　　His　mother…in…law　he　respected；　as
one　might　respect　a　principle。

There　was　indeed　in　the　personality　of　that　little　old　lady　the
tremendous　force　of　accumulated　decisionthe　inherited　assurance　of
one　whose　prestige　had　never　been　questioned；　who；　from　long
immunity；　and　a　certain　clear…cut　matter…of…factness；　bred　by　the
habit　of　command；　had　indeed　lost　the　power　of　perceiving　that　her
prestige　ever　could　be　questioned。　　Her　knowledge　of　her　own　mind　was
no　ordinary　piece　of　learning；　had　not；　in　fact；　been　learned　at　all；
but　sprang　full…fledged　from　an　active　dominating　temperament。
Fortified　by　the　necessity；　common　to　her　class；　of　knowing
thoroughly　the　more　patent　side　of　public　affairs；　armoured　by　the
tradition　of　a　culture　demanded　by　leadership；　inspired　by　ideas；　but
always　the　same　ideas；　owning　no　master；　but　in　servitude　to　her　own
custom　of　leading；　she　had　a　mind；　formidable　as　the　two…edged　swords
wielded　by　her　ancestors　the　Fitz…Harolds；　at　Agincourt　or　Poitiers
a　mind　which　had　ever　instinctively　rejected　that　inner　knowledge　of
herself　or　of　the　selves　of　others；　produced　by　those　foolish
practices　of　introspection；　contemplation；　and　understanding；　so
deleterious　to　authority。　　If　Lord　Valleys　was　the　body　of　the
aristocratic　machine；　Lady　Casterley　was　the　steel　spring　inside　it。
All　her　life　studiously　unaffected　and　simple　in　attire；　of　plain　and
frugal　habit；　an　early　riser；　working　at　something　or　other　from
morning　till　night；　and　as　little　worn…out　at　seventy…eight　as　most
women　of　fifty；　she　had　only　one　weak　spotand　that　was　her
strengthblindness　as　to　the　nature　and　size　of　her　place　in　the
scheme　of　things。　　She　was　a　type；　a　force。

Wonderfully　well　she　went　with　the　room　in　which　they　were　dining；
whose　grey　walls；　surmounted　by　a　deep　frieze　painted　somewhat　in　the
style　of　Fragonard；　contained　many　nymphs　and　roses　now　rather　dim；
with　the　furniture；　too；　which　had　a　look　of　having　survived　into
times　not　its　own。　　On　the　tables　were　no　flowers；　save　five　lilies
in　an　old　silver　chalice；　and　on　the　wall　over　the　great　sideboard　a
portrait　of　the　late　Lord　Casterley。

She　spoke：

〃I　hope　Miltoun　is　taking　his　own　line？〃

〃That's　the　trouble。　　He　suffers　from　swollen　principlesonly　wish
he　could　keep　them　out　of　his　speeches。〃

〃Let　him　be；　and　get　him　away　from　that　woman　as　soon　as　his
election's　over。　　What　is　her　real　name？〃

〃Mrs。　something　Lees　Noel。〃

〃How　long　has　she　been　there？〃

〃About　a　year；　I　think。〃

〃And　you　don't　know　anything　about　her？〃

Lord　Valleys　raised　his　shoulders。

〃Ah！〃　said　Lady　Casterley；　〃exactly！　　You're　letting　the　thing　drift。
I　shall　go　down　myself。　　I　suppose　Gertrude　can　have　me？　　What　has
that　Mr。　Courtier　to　do　with　this　good　lady？〃

Lord　Valleys　smiled。　　In　this　smile　was　the　whole　of　his　polite　and
easy…going　philosophy。　　〃I　am　no　meddler；〃　it　seemed　to　say；　and　at
sight　of　that　smile　Lady　Casterley　tightened　her　lips。

〃He　is　a　firebrand；〃　she　said。　　〃I　read　that　book　of　his　against　War…
…most　inflammatory。　　Aimed　at　Grant…and　Rosenstern；　chiefly。　　I've
just　seen；　one　of　the　results；　outside　my　own　gates。　　A　mob　of　anti…
War　agitators。〃

Lord　Valleys　controlled　a　yawn。

〃Really？　　I'd　no　idea　Courtier　had　any　influence。〃

〃He　is　dangerous。　　Most　idealists　are　negligible…his　book　was
clever。〃

〃I　wish　to　goodness　we　could　see　the　last　of　these　scares；　they　only
make　both　countries　look　foolish；〃　muttered　Lord　Valleys。

Lady　Casterley　raised　her　glass；　full　of　a　bloody　red　wine。　　〃The　war
would　save　us；〃　she　said。

〃War　is　no　joke。〃

〃It　would　be　the　beginning　of　a　better　state　of　things。〃

〃You　think　so？〃

〃We　should　get　the　lead　again　as　a　nation；　and　Democracy　would　be　put
back　fifty　years。〃

Lord　Valleys　made　three　little　heaps　of　salt；　and　paused　to　count
them；　then；　with　a　slight　uplifting　of　his　eyebrows；　which　seemed　to
doubt　what　he　was　going　to　say；　he　murmured：　〃I　should　have　said　that
we　were　all　democrats　nowadays。。。。　　What　is　it；　Clifton？〃

〃Your　chauffeur　would　like　to　know；　what　time　you　will　have　the　car？〃

〃Directly　after　dinner。〃

Twenty　minutes　later；　he　was　turning　through　the　scrolled　iron　gates
into　the　road　for　London。　　It　was　falling　dark；　and　in　the　tremulous
sky　clouds　were　piled　up；　and　drifted　here　and　there　with　a　sort　of
endless　lack　of　purpose。　　No　direction　seemed　to　have　been　decreed
unto　their　wings。　　They　had　met　together　in　the　firmament　like　a
flock　of　giant　magpies　crossing　and　re…crossing　each　others'　flight。
The　smell　of　rain　was　in　the　air。　　The　car　raised　no　dust；　but　bored
swiftly　on；　searching　out　the　road　with　its　lamps。　　On　Putney　Bridge
its　march　was　stayed　by　a　string　of　waggons。　　Lord　Valleys　looked　to
right　and　left。　　The　river　reflected　the　thousand　lights　of　buildings
piled　along　her　sides；　lamps　of　the　embankments；　lanterns　of　moored
barges。　　The　sinuous　pallid　body　of　this　great　Creature；　for　ever
gliding　down　to　the　sea；　roused　in　his　mind　no　symbolic　image。　　He
had　had　to　do　with　her；　years　back；　at　the　Board　of　Trade；　and　knew
her　for　what　she　was；　extremely　dirty；　and　getting　abominably　thin
just　where　he　would　have　liked　her　plump。　　Yet；　as　he　lighted　a
cigar；　there　came　to　him　a　queer　feelingas　if　he　were　in　the
presence　of　a　woman　he　was　fond　of。

〃I　hope　to　God；〃　he　thought；　〃nothing'il　come　of　these　scares！〃　　The
car　glided　on　into　the　long　road；　swarming　with　traffic；　towards　the
fashionable　heart　of　London。　　Outside　stationers'　shops；　however；　the
posters　of　evening　papers　were　of　no　reassuring　order。

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　'THE　PLOT　THICKENS。'
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　'MORE　REVELATIONS。'
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　'GRAVE　SITUATION　THREATENED。'

And　before　each　poster　could　be　seen　a　little　eddy　in　the　stream　of
the　passers…byformed　by　persons　glancing　at　the　news；　and
disengaging　themselves；　to　press　on　again。　　The　Earl　of　Valleys
caught　himself　wondering　what　they　thought　of　it！　　What　was　passing
behind　those　pale　rounds　of　flesh　turned　towards　the　posters？

Did　they　think　at　all；　these　men　and　women　in　the　street？　　What　was
their　attitude　towards　this　vaguely　threatened　cataclysm？　　Face　after
face；　stolid　and　apathetic；　expressed　nothing；　no　active　desire；
certainly　no　enthusiasm；　hardly　any　dread。　　Poor　devils！　　The　thing；
after　all；　was　no　more　within　their　control　than　it　was　within　the
power　of　ants　to　stop　the　ruination　of　their　ant…heap　by　some　passing
boy！　　It　was　no　doubt　quite　true；　that　the　people　had　never　had　much
voice　in　the　making　of　war。　　And　the　words　of　a　Radical　weekly；　which
as　an　impartial　man　he　always　forced　himself　to　read；　recurred　to
him。　　〃Ignorant　of　the　facts；　hypnotized　by　the　words　'Country'　and
'Patriotism'；　in　the　grip　of　mob…instinct　and　inborn　prejudice
against　the　foreigner；　helpless　by　reason　of　his　patience；　stoicism；
good　faith；　and　confidence　in　those　above　him；　helpless　by　reason　of
his　snobbery；　mutual　distrust；　carelessness　for　the　morrow；　and　lack
of　public　spirit…in　the　face　of　War　how　impotent　and　to　be　pitied　is
the　man　in　the　street！〃　　That　paper；　though　clever；　always　seemed　to
him　intolerably　hifalutin'！

It　was　doubtful　whether　he　would　get　to　Ascot　this　year。　　And　his
mind　flew　for　a　moment　to　his　promising　two…year…old　Casetta；　then
dashed　almost　violently；　as　though　in　shame；　to　the　Admiralty　and　the
doubt　whether　they　were　fully　alive　to　possibilities。　　He　himself
occupied　a　softer　spot　of　Government；　one　of　those　almost　nominal
offices　necessary　to　qualify　into　the　Cabinet　certain　tried　minds；
for　whom　no　more　strenuous　post　can　for　the　moment　be　found。　　From
the　Admiralty　again　his　thoughts　leaped　to　his　mother…in…law。
Wonderful　old　woman！　　What　a　statesman　she　would　have　made！　　Too
reactionary！　　Deuce　of　a　straight　line　she　had　taken　about　Mrs。　Lees
Noel！　　And　with　a　connoisseur's　twinge　of　pleasure　he　recollected
that　lady's　face　and　figure　seen　that　morning　as　he　passed　her
cottage。　　Mysterious　or　not；　the　woman　was　certainly　attractive！
Very　graceful　head　with　its　dark　hair　waved　back　from　the　middle　over
either　templevery　charming　figure；　no　lumber　of　any　sort！　　Bouquet
about　her！　　Some　story　or　other；　no　doubtno　affair　of　his！　　Always
sorry　for　that　sort　of　woman！

A　regiment　of　Territorials　returning　from　a　march　stayed　the　progress
of　his　car。　　He　leaned　forward　watching　them　with　much　the　same
contained；　shrewd；　critical　look　he　would　have　bent　on　a　pack　of
hounds。　　All　the　mistiness　and　speculation　in　his　mind　was　gone　now。
Good　stamp　of　man；　would　give　a　capital　account　of　themselves！　　Their
faces；　flushed　by　a　day　in　the　open；　were　masked　with　passivity；　or；
with　a　half…aggressive；　half…jocular　self…consciousness；　they　were
clearly　not　troubled　by　abstract　doubts；　or　any　visions　of　the
horrors　of　war。

Someone　raised　a　cheer　'for　the　Terriers！'　Lord　Valleys　saw　round　him
a　little　sea　of　hats；　rising　and　falling；　and　heard　a　sound；　rather
shrill　and　tentative；　swell　into　hoarse；　high　clamour；　and　suddenly
die　out。　　〃Seem　keen　enough！〃　he　thought。　　〃Very　little　does　it！
Plenty　of　fighting　spirit　in　the　country。〃　　　And　again　a　thrill　of
pleasure　shot　through　him。

Then；　as　the　last　soldier　passed；　his　car　slowly　forged　its　way
through　the　straggling　crowd；　pressing　on　behind　the　regimentmen　of
all　ages；　youths；　a　few　women；　young　girls；　who　turned　their　eyes　on
him　with　a　negligent　stare　as　if　their　lives　were　too　remote　to
permit　them　to　take　interest　in　this　passing　man　at　ease。




CHAPTER　IV

At　Monkland；　that　same　hour；　in　the　little　whitewashed　'withdrawing…
room'　of　a　thatched；　whitewashed　cottage；　two　men　sat　talking；　one　on
either　side　of　the　hearth；　and　in　a　low　chair　between　them　a　dark…
eyed　woman　leaned　back；　watching；　the　tips　of　her　delicate　thin
fingers　pressed　together；　or　held　out　transparent　towards　the　fire。
A　log；　dropping　now　and　then；　turned　up　its　glowing　underside；　and
the　firelight　and　the　lamplight　seemed　so　to　have　soaked　into　the
white　walls　that　a　wan　warmth　exuded。　　Silvery　dun　moths；　fluttering
in　from　the　dark　garden；　kept　vibrating；　like　spun　shillings；　over　a
jade…green　bowl　of　crimson　roses；　and　there　was　a　scent；　as　ever　in
that　old　thatched　cottage；　of　woodsmoke；　flowers；　and　sweetbriar。

The　man　on　the　left　was　perhaps　forty；　rather　above　middle　height；
vigorous；　active；　straight；　with　blue　eyes　and　a　sanguine　face　that
glowed　on　small　provocation。　　His　hair　was　very　bright；　almost　red；
and　his　fiery　moustaches　which　descended　to　the　level　of　his　chin；
like　Don　Quixote's　seemed　bristling　and　charging。

The　man　on　the　right　was　nearer　thirty；　evidently　tall；　wiry；　and
very　thin。　　He　sat　rather　crumpled；　in　his　low　armchair；　with　hands
clasped　round　a　knee；　and　a　little　crucified　smile　haunted　the　lips
of　his　lean　face；　which；　with　its　parchmenty；　tanned；　shaven　cheeks；
and　deep…set；　very　living　eyes；　had　a　certain　beauty。

These　two　men；　so　extravagantly　unlike；　looked　at　each　other　like
neighbouring　dogs；　who；　having　long　decided　that　they　are　better
apart；　suddenly　find　that　they　have　met　at　some　spot　where　they
cannot　possibly　have　a　fight。　　And　the　woman　watched