Ada Leverson

“ As soon as Madeline had gone Bertha went and looked steadily and seriously in the glass, for some considerable time. She thought on the whole that it was true that she was looking pretty: on this subject she was perfectly calm, cool and unbiassed, as if judging the appearance of a stranger. For, though she naturally liked to be admired, as all women do, she was entirely without that fluffy sort of vanity, that weak conceit, so indulgent to itself, that makes nearly all pretty women incapable of perceiving when they are beginning to go off, or unwilling to own it to themselves. ”

“ It so happened that Mary was not in the room when they were announced, and very soon Nigel managed to take her down, first into the refreshment-room, and then into the boudoir, which had been arranged with draperies and shaded lights.
“I just want to have a few words with you,” he said, and got her into a little corner.
There was a heavy scent of roses; the music sounded faintly.
“Bertha!” he said. “It was too sweet of you to come. I shall never forget it. You don’t know how miserable I am.”
“Oh, rubbish!” she answered. “You’ve no earthly reason to be. I wish you wouldn’t talk nonsense.” ”

“ Why, Bertha! I’d work my fingers to the bone, and lay down my life for him!”
“He doesn’t want your life, and, probably, not bony fingers either, but he’ll want incense swung, all the time, remember; and always in front of him only. He won’t be half as good-natured and indulgent as Percy.”
“Of course, Percy’s very sweet, and kind and clever, and devoted to you,” said Madeline, “but I always feel that it would have been more your ideal to have married your first love, Nigel; and far more romantic, too. He’s so good-looking and amusing, and how delightfully he sings Debussy!” ”

“ It could be no joke to live with a woman like his wife. But he should not have deceived Bertha; he should have let her know; he should not have induced her to come against Percy’s wish, at the risk of being insulted.
She was not anxious about Madeline, knowing that that sensible young lady would go to her own home when the carriage came, and that she could explain matters to her the next morning. Madeline was not une faiseuse d’embarras.
Bertha had brought her key as Percy had promised to wait up for her; the servants were to be allowed to go to bed. ”

“ He said a woman ought not to have to come down until the day had been a little warmed, and got ready for her; that she should have time to choose her clothes to harmonise with her moods—time, after a look at the weather, and hearing the news of the day, to settle on what the moods should be. For a man, on the contrary, he thought it ridiculous and weakly idle—indolent in a way not suited to a man. A man, according to Nigel, ought no more to have his breakfast in bed than to come down with a bow of blue ribbon in his hair, or to go and lie down before dressing for a dinner-party. ”

“ He was a keen sportsman, and the ambition of the hunter was added to the longing of the lover. A born diplomatist, he had, of course, easily made Percy like him immensely. But he hated Percy, and could never forgive him for the unpardonable injury he had done to him, Nigel, in consoling Bertha. Nigel could not bear to own, even to himself, that Bertha was happy in her married life. Sometimes he would swear to himself when he remembered that it was all his own doing, that she might have been his wife. ”

“ She swept from the room with the queenly grace and dignity that always seemed a little out of proportion to the occasion—one expected her to make a court curtsy, and go out backwards.
“My mother-in-law really believes it matters whether she calls on people or not,” said Bertha, in her low, even voice. “Isn’t it touching?”
Madeline seized her hand.
“Bertha, need I be frightened of Moona Chivvey? She’s a dangerous sort of girl; she takes interest in all the things Rupert does: pictures, and poetry and art needlework.”
“Does Rupert really do art needlework? What a universal genius he is!” ”

“ But just as passion will make one singularly quick-sighted, it can also make one dense and stupid. Considering that Mary was madly in love with her own husband, it was absurd she should suppose it impossible that Bertha should take the slightest interest in hers. Of course Mary had heard that they were very devoted—if she had not, what would have been the use of writing the letters?—but she chose to believe that it was only on the husband’s side, and that Bertha must of necessity be, of course, sly and deceitful. ”

“ Perhaps the most usual case of all is for the husband, if he’s married for love, to remain in love for the first two or three years, and for the love then to turn gradually into a warm friendship, [102] or even a deep affection, which may go on growing deeper—it’s only the romance and the glamour and sparkle that seems to go—the excitement. And that’s such a pity. I can’t help thinking in many cases it really needn’t be. More often than not, I believe, it’s the woman’s mistake. Just at first, she’s liable to take too much advantage of the new sort of power she feels. ”

“ Percy Kellynch, felt pained and particularly surprised and disappointed in her. He had always believed her to be so superior to other girls, so true and loyal! It was quite a disillusion; to think that she could get over him so easily! Women usually took much longer than that. However, he now despised himself even more as a fool than as a coward for having given up Bertha, and not being of the type who trouble to conceal their feelings in domestic life, he openly and frankly showed to the unfortunate Mary that he knew he had made an irrevocable mistake. ”

“ Mind, I think that there are many other people far more amusing, besides being better matches from the worldly point of view—like Charlie Hillier, for instance—but the great thing is that you care for your Rupert; and I don’t believe you’ll change.”
They were never demonstrative to each other, and Madeline only looked at her with trusting, beaming gratitude. Bertha was indeed convinced that this mania for Rupert was the real thing; it would never fade from fulfilment, nor even die if discouraged; it would always burn unalterably bright. ”

“ But, of course, she was not really like a doll, nor remote from life; she was very real, living and animated; though she had for the connoisseur all the charm of an exquisite bibelot that is not for sale.
Bertha was twenty-eight, but looked younger than her age. Madeline might have been her senior. Under this peachlike appearance, and with the premeditated ïté of her manner, she was always astonishing people by her penetration and general ingenuity; she was at once very quick and very deep—quick especially to perceive and enjoy incongruities, and deep in understanding them ”

“ Wouldn’t you prefer he should make your life miserable than any other woman’s? Besides, one must take a risk. It’s worth it.”
“I should think it is, indeed!” cried Madeline. “Why, I would marry Rupert if I thought I should never see him again after a month or two—if I knew for a fact he would get tired of me!”
“Of course you would, and quite right too. But remember people are not all alike. There are any number of men who are absolutely incapable of being really in love with anyone who belongs to them. They simply can’t help it. It’s the instinct of the chase. ”

“ And he still wanted to please Bertha.
They dined in a small but particularly excellent restaurant. She seemed to enjoy herself immensely, and grew every moment more confidential. Nigel tried not to flirt. He had no intention of doing so, and, had they met in London, would not have dreamt of such a thing; but meeting an English girl placed as she was gave a tinge of adventure and romance to his taking her out.
She told him she had no flirtations and cared for no man in the world. He then led the conversation gradually to Rupert Denison. ”

“ All girls, all women, look their best in the afternoon. The hat is everything. Evening dress is the most trying and unbecoming thing in the world; only the most perfect beauties, who are also very young and fresh, can stand it. The most becoming thing for a woman is either négligé, or a hat. You, particularly, Madeline, look your best in the afternoon. ”

“ Now I shall have an object in life. But, Bertha,” continued Madeline, putting her head on her shoulder, “I’ve been absolutely frank, you know.”
“I guessed you would be; it was like you. But I hope you didn’t say too much to Charlie. It would be a pity to cloud his pleasure and spoil the sparkle of the fun. By the time you’re choosing carpets together and receiving your third cruet-stand you will have forgotten such a person as Rupert Denison exists—except as a man who played a sort of character-part in the curtain-raiser of your existence.” ”

“ Lady Kellynch was always very specially careful whom she asked, or allowed, to meet Lady Gertrude. She had wanted Bertha particularly to-day and was vexed at this unexpected arrival.
“Your daughter-in-law, my dear?” asked Lady Gertrude, in a surprised tone, putting up her long tortoiseshell glass.
“Oh dear, no, Gertrude! Surely you know Bertha by sight! I never had the pleasure of meeting Mrs. Pickering before.” ”

“ And I’ll make Lady Kellynch think it’s rather a shame of her to take my place; then she’ll enjoy it. We’ll arrange it for next week. I’m expecting her this afternoon.”
“Oh, are you? I’m always rather afraid she doesn’t like me,” said Madeline pensively.
“She doesn’t dislike you. She doesn’t dislike anybody; only, simply, you don’t exist for her. My mother-in-law really believes that the whole of humanity consists of her own family; first, her late husband; then Percy, then Clifford, the boy at school, and, in a very slight degree, me too, because I’m married to Percy. ”

“ It isn’t as though you were always in love with somebody or other; as a rule, a girl of your age, if she can’t have the person she wants, can be very quickly consoled if you give her someone else instead. Now, you’ve never had even a fancy before. I may not (I don’t) see the charm of Rupert, but it must be there; probably there’s something in his temperament that’s needed by yours—something that he can supply to you that no one else can. If you really want him, [22] you must have him, darling,” said Bertha, with resolution. ”

“ She had found out that the host of the evening at the ballet had been Rupert Denison, and that Madeline Irwin, Bertha and Nigel were the guests. For more than a week Mary had entirely given up the quarrelsome and nagging mood, so that Nigel believed she no longer had this absurd fancy about Bertha. As a matter of fact, for the first time, she had really been dissembling, had spent a good deal of time and money in finding out how both Bertha and Nigel spent their time. ”

“ Bertha was exceptional, in that she did not care for the Don Juan type of man, but was rather inclined to despise him. She would far rather have ambition, business, art, duty, any other object in life as her rival, than another woman.
Percy received no more of the singular typewritten letters. He kept those that he had locked up in a box. Mary had grown a little frightened at the apparent success of those she sent. She never heard anything about them, but she knew that Nigel had not been seeing Bertha since the note about the picture gallery. She began to be happier again. ”

“ I don’t want a little of everybody. All I want is the whole of one person.”
“Is that all! Well, you’ve got it,” replied Madeline.
“I hope so,” she answered, rather seriously. “I’m not altogether satisfied. I can’t settle down to the idea of a dull, humdrum sort [99] of life—and of Percy’s being fond of me casually.”
“Oh, good gracious, I’m sure he isn’t casual! What a strange idea of yours!”
“I hope I’m wrong. I believe I want something that’s very nearly impossible. I’ve always had a sort of ideal or dream of making an ordinary average married life into a romance.” ”

“ She had felt the agony known to all loving hearts, the conviction that a traveller is already at a distance before he goes. He is no longer with her when his thoughts are with stations and tickets—indeed the real parting is long before he starts. Then the unconscious sparkle of pleasure in his eyes as he imagines himself away! He had gone already before he went; she did not want to see the last of him. She went up to her room and locked the door, and threw herself on the sofa in a terrible fit of despair and jealousy. Jealousy still, that was her great fear of his going away. ”

“ But the real link was that they both instinctively threw overboard all but the essential; they cared comparatively little for most of the preoccupations and smaller solicitudes of the women in their own leisured class. There was in neither of them anything of the social snob or the narrow outlook of the bourgeoise; they were free from pose, petty ambitions, or trivial affectations.
Madeline looked up to Bertha as a wonderful combination of kindness, cleverness, beauty and knowledge of the world. Bertha felt that Madeline was not quite so well equipped for dealing with life as she herself was ”

“ Clifford’s handsome dark face became overclouded with boredom.
“Oh, good Lord, mother! can’t you telephone to a florist and have it sent to her, if she’s got to have vegetables?”
“But surely, dear, it would be nicer for you to take it.”
“Oh, mother, it would be awful rot, carting about floral tribs in a taxi all over London.”
“Floral tribs? What are floral tribs? Oh, tributes! I see! In a taxi! No. I never dreamt of your doing such a thing. Ridiculous extravagance! Go from Kensington to Sloane Street in a taxi!” ”

“ Eustace had his arms full of parcels, which looked rather exciting. He informed his delighted sister and friend that they were going to have private fireworks on the balcony.
“Gracious, how ripping!” cried Clifford. “But it isn’t the fifth of November.”
“Who on earth ever said it was?”
“Is it anybody’s birthday?” asked Cissy.
“I daresay,” said Pickering. “Sure to be.”
“But you don’t know that it’s anybody’s birthday for a fact, do you?”
“Yes, I do. It’s a dead cert that it’s somebody’s. Somebody’s born every day. It’s probably several people’s birthday.” ”

“ And he has a good deal of Nigel’s charm, though he’s not so clever, but he’s very much steadier. Really, it’s a pity you don’t like him. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, I couldn’t,” said Madeline.
“He’s quite a nice boy, too; and I know how much he likes you, from Nigel.”
“Oh, I couldn’t!” Madeline repeated, shaking her head.
Bertha seemed silently to assent.
[20] “And will dear Nigel ask me all the same to meet Rupert, Bertha?”
“Oh yes; we’ll arrange it to-day. Nigel’s delightfully prompt, and never delays anything.”
“And what will happen to Percy? You scarcely ever go out without him.” ”

“ Nigel was a great deal more at home, though not more affectionate. And Mary was one of those women, by no [161] means infrequent, who are fairly satisfied if they can, by hook or by crook, by any trick or any tyranny, keep the man they care for somehow under the same roof with them—if only his body is in the house, even if they know it is against his will, and that his soul is far away. She would far rather that his desire was elsewhere, if only he were positively present—the one dread, really, being that he should be enjoying himself with anyone else. ”

“ Your clothes are attractive—in an impressionist way!”
“The only thing I think of about my dresses, is that they should make people admire me—not my dressmaker,” said Bertha candidly. “I don’t care for much variety, and I leave real smartness to Madeline and the other tall, slim girls. My figure is so wrong! How dare I be short and tiny, and yet not thin, nowadays?” ”

“ Of course Nigel is not the man to endure money troubles well.”
“Exactly. Well, now, can’t you see that you’ve every possible chance of happiness together?”
“May I call you Bertha?” answered Mary. “You’ve been a real angel to me, I might have expected you to refuse to see me, or at least to be cold and unkind—and instead you’re as sorry as you can be for me and want to see me happy! You are sweet.”
“Of course I’d like to see you happy,” said Bertha. “You understand now that I also care [310] for my husband? You’re not the only one in the world, though I admit we’re rather exceptions nowadays!” ”

“ His manner was becoming a shade more tender than was necessary, and he was sitting perhaps a shade nearer to her than was absolutely required, when, looking up, he saw two young men in the stalls, one of whom was looking at him and his companion with very great interest through an opera-glass. It was Rupert.
Moona had not seen him, and Nigel now became aware of a distinct anxiety that she should not. He was rather sorry he had come: it might give Rupert a mistaken impression. It was not right to compromise her. ”

“ She wanted to take advantage of that fact, in a way that no man could endure. Yet she was to be pitied. Anyone so exacting must be terribly unhappy.
[247] It was not in Nigel, either, to care long for anyone who cared for him so much. And even if Bertha, who was now his ideal and his dream, had been as devoted to him as Mary, and shown it in anything like the same sort of way, he would in time have become cool and ceased to appreciate her. He thought now that he would always adore her, and yet, when they had been actually engaged, it had been he who had allowed it to lapse. ”

“ How beautiful!” exclaimed Cissy, like a true woman. “But Mrs. Pickering! Fancy! Does it mean mummy?”
“Why, yes. As a matter of fact it certainly does.”
“Oh, Clifford! How clever! How splendid! But mustn’t she know it?”
“Oh no. I’d rather not. At any rate, not now.”
“I wish it was to me!” exclaimed the child. “Then you needn’t be so shy about it. Why don’t you change it to me? Look here—like this. Say:
“‘I felt inclined to sing
About Cissy Pickering.’
Cissy instead of Mrs.!”
“Oh no, my dear. That wouldn’t do at all. It isn’t done. You can’t alter a sonnet to another person. ”

“ He had a longing to feel at ease; he had a love of pleasure, too, of freedom, of idleness; and the sort of talent that consists in brilliantly describing what one could do and what one would like to do: in sketching schemes, verbally—literary, financial, artistic, no matter what—with so much charm, such aplomb that everyone believed in him, and enjoyed to hear his projects, but he had not either the genius that compels its owner to work nor the steadiness, the determination of character that makes a man a successful drudge, who gets there in the end. ”