Ada Leverson

“ If you want to be a respectable, dull married man, you'll have to dissolve your romance, you know. I should have thought you were the last person to be weak about anybody else's feelings!—No, it's your own, my dear boy."
Harry's colour rose a little.
"My dear Lady Walmer! I'm going to tell—my cousin Valentia—all about it—I mean about my hopes. I'm certain that she will be charming about it—only too glad, for my sake."
"Oh! And yet I thought she was human! Or—is there some one else?"
"Certainly there's some one else—there's Romer. She's very devoted to him." ”

“ Oh, Romer dear, really! It's one of those things that are almost impossible to explain. Oh, if you'd only do just what I advise—if you'd only go by me, and not want these long tedious explanations, how much better it would be! You see, Harry is giving this dinner on purpose so that Daphne shall meet Van Buren by accident. You know all about Van Buren, the Van Buren—the millionaire, who turns out to be a dear creature and quite charming! and has taken the greatest fancy to Harry, and clings on to him, and keeps on and on asking him to ask him to meet people. ”

“ Do you think I want to marry a man so horribly clever that he wouldn't understand a word I said?"
"Let's have it out, dear. What do you think you want?" Valentia answered herself; "It's Foster, of course! That dull, empty-headed, commonplace, hard-up, handsome boy. You can't marry him. He's just twenty-two, and has only a miserable allowance, and is in an expensive regiment, and you, darling, will only have three hundred a year. I should love to see you happy in your own way and having your wish, but don't you think it's a childish fancy? ”

“ To get Valentia back, as he vaguely hoped, some time, however distant, he had acted most wisely, and he knew it. For he cared for her far too much ever to have conventional thoughts on the subject. It never even occurred to him to try to act as the husband ought to act, or as by the incessant insidious influence of plays and novels most of us have been brought up to think he ought to act. Most people are far more guided than they know in their views of life by the artificial conventions of the theatre and of literature, or by tradition. In fact, most people are other people. Romer was himself. ”

“ She had lived with the Wyburns ever since their marriage five years ago, and Valentia, having [21] no children and a most passionately tender disposition—far too much natural affection to expend on Romer alone—lavished devotion on her sister. And Daphne was so nice and so pretty, almost as pretty as herself, in a satisfactorily different way. Valentia with her short straight features, grey eyes under dark brows, low forehead almost hidden by wavy fair hair, and a mouth curved and curled into subtle and complicated lines, was the type loved by Rossetti and Burne-Jones. ”

“ To see Valentia again and to banish Harry for ever! And all the obvious, human feelings that he [290] thought he was free from had come back. He broke down; bitter tears of self-pity, of sentiment, and of heartbroken humiliation fell from his eyes. He remembered their engagement and their honeymoon, and then the eternal and everlasting amusing cousin; Harry, and his sickening good looks and ceaseless chatter. No more of it, by heaven! It would be something worth having lived for to have no more of the brilliant Harry. ”

“ The other guests besides Valentia in yellow and Daphne in pink—both looking as fresh as daisies and as civilised as orchids—consisted of Lady Walmer, a smart, good-looking, commonplace woman, rather fatter than she wished to be, but very straight-fronted, straightforward, and sporting, with dark red hair and splendid jewels; a faded yet powerful beauty who had been admired in the eighties, but had only had real success since she turned forty-six. ”

“ Wyburn and Miss de Freyne one might have fancied Harry looked slightly disappointed, but he greeted the pretty creatures with suitable effusion and high spirits.
They both sat down rather carefully in the corner seats by the fire.
"Romer can't come, he's dining with his mother," announced Valentia. "He ought to, you know, now and then."
"I don't like her," said Daphne, "she abuses every one."
"I know she does, but she's really not so bad, dear, all the same; there are many worse. She's rather spiteful, but warmhearted—awfully kind if you break your leg," said Valentia. ”

“ Harry was the possessor of a fine—indeed, a magnificent studio, full of good old things, chiefly other people's, and bad new things, principally his own. The theory that all bad art is the result of sincere feeling was certainly not exemplified in his case. The portrait of his cousin that had been regarded as so full of promise was, as he always, said, the only decent piece of work he had ever done. He had been educated for diplomacy, and learnt eight languages, some of which he spoke fluently, and in all of which he could look with expression. ”

“ Yes, Harry, I know, but I do hope——Ah, Miss Daphne, how beautiful your England is looking to-day! In America we never have a day like this, warm and yet cool, with all those nice, white, fleecy clouds in the sky. Our atmosphere is always so hard and clear. Now this garden with those large trees is just like a Corot. ”

“ Daphne leant forward and said to Harry:
"Do you know who is that very distinguished-looking man who has just come in—rather weary and a little grey on the temples? He bowed and kissed the woman's hand so charmingly—at the next table to us. Looks like a great diplomatist."
"Then he must be a stockbroker," said Valentia decidedly. "Every one with the grand manner always is."
"Really! I can't say; I don't know any stockbrokers," said Miss Luscombe.
"How distinguished that sounds!" murmured Vaughan.
"It's very clever of you, Miss Luscombe," said Lady Walmer; "I don't see how you can help it! ”

“ Van Buren, who was a business man, was an idealist; while Harry de Freyne, the artist—was, emphatically, not.
Van Buren had been brought up on Thackeray and Dickens, above all on old pictures from Punch; Du Maurier's drawings enjoyed at an early age had made him romantic about everything connected with London. As soon as he was able to leave his bank in New York—in fact, the moment he had retired from business—he had realised his dream and come to live in London. And Harry seemed to him the incarnation of everything delightfully, amusingly English. ”

“ He had, in fact, a genius for love-making, but he had not, like Romer, a genius for love. Harry had all the gift of expression—poor Romer had only the gift of feeling.
But notwithstanding Harry's magnetism, a woman once disillusioned by him was disillusioned for ever. Women never forgave him. ”

“ Daphne felt sure she must be really in love because she took comparatively little interest in anything that [161] was not more or less connected with the idea of Cyril. Perhaps she enjoyed the things she associated with him more than his actual presence. Talking about him to Valentia, or hearing about him from his mother, seemed more amusing and exciting than sitting with him alone and holding his hand. She would have liked best never to see him except in evening dress at a party, only to hear about him or think about him all day. ”

“ Romer, though he never by any chance smiled at his wife's careless irresponsible chatter, nor laughed at her trivial jests, took the deepest interest in them, and would listen, as if under a charm, by the hour, to subtleties and frivolities that one would never have imagined he would enjoy. Sometimes the faint shadow of a smile would illuminate his face like a cold ray of wintry moonlight, but that was when she had ceased speaking. ”

“ He doesn't really care for the sea."
"Oh!"
"Harry, of course, is sorry for Van Buren," continued Valentia. "And yet he takes Daphne's part about Cyril Foster. He knows it's spoiling her, but he thinks she ought to be spoilt; he's so fond of Daphne."
"Why doesn't he marry her himself?" asked Romer.
"Harry?" She looked at him in surprise. "Why, Romer, what a harpist you are. If I've told you once, I've told you a hundred times, he never marries! Harry has a great many bad habits, goodness knows. But marrying isn't one of them." ”

“ An hour later, when quietly at home in his study, Vaughan was suddenly seized by that species of madness that has been known to wreck careers, "to launch a thousand ships," to cause all kinds of chaos. It was that terrible once-on-board-the-lugger-and-the-girl-is-mine-I-must-and-shall-possess-her feeling in its most acute form. Most men have known it at some time in their lives. He thought of Harry de Freyne, and felt noble and superior in contrast to what his conduct would have been, as he sat down and wrote with intense pleasure—
"Darling Gladys,
"I love you. Will you marry me? Please try. ”

“ I'm sure you're interesting enough, but I mean queer people, and celebrities and things. That's what Van Buren wants, and that's what he must have. And that's one reason why he's so delighted with Harry, because Harry can get them all, through being a sort of artist, you see. What a good thing, after all, that he didn't drift into diplomacy! As he's an American you can't expect Van Buren to be really modern, and he has all the old-fashioned ideas about what he calls culture. He wants to go in for being intellectual and artistic and knowing what he calls people with brains who really count. ”

“ I want to speak to you about your cousin—I mean Miss Daphne, the beauteous broo-nette."
"Well, how do you think you're getting on?" asked Harry, who already knew from Valentia that it was hopeless.
"Not as well as I should like, Harry. I can't say I feel I'm making any very great progress. She's a dream, but I'm afraid she regards me as a heavy-weight. She's only a child, really, I know. She would prefer a little boy of her own age who would make her laugh. Maybe she thinks I'm too old. ”

“ They love to show off. That's why they're so keen on dress."
"Do you think," said Daphne, with sudden anxiety, "that if you don't dress to perfection you can't keep a man's love? I do hope not! I mean because when I'm married to Cyril I shan't be able to afford to wear anything at all, except a clean blouse which I shall have to iron out myself, like in Hearth and Home."
Valentia shook her head.
"Dressing to perfection doesn't make men love you, silly. It only makes women hate you. ”

“ Miss Luscombe was looking out of the window, looking up to the street, waiting. At last she saw from her basement (the "tank," as her friends called it) a glimpse on the pavement of a pair of feet that she knew. They were the feet of Mr. John Ryland Rathbone. She hastened to prepare herself for his visit.
It is obvious that people who live in a basement must look at life from a different point of view from all others. The proudest of women in that position must necessarily see it de bas en haut. ”

“ Harry and his like have no time to drawl; they have to keep appointments.
On the evening of the Ritz dinner-party Harry was not in a particularly good temper, and thought to himself he was rather like a Barnum as he introduced his guests one by one to the modest millionaire, who said to them all, "Pleased to meet you", and fixed his admiring glance with a sentimental respect on Daphne, an undisguised admiration on Valentia, and an almost morbid curiosity on Miss Luscombe, the first actress he had ever met. ”

“ To a modern man it's all exactly the same. Of course, if a flapper is what is required, well then, naturally, he must be shown to another department. But apart from that—why, Lady Walmer would be quite as dangerous a rival for me as a woman ten years or twenty years younger. And I'm not twenty-five yet."
"Rival to you? What do you mean?"
Romer stared at her, a spark of his fanatic admiration showing in his eyes.
She laughed and hurried on.
"Nothing. I never mean anything. I know what you think, Harry is not a marrying man, but he might become one. But a girl like Alec Walmer! ”

“ I don't look so bad, do I?"
"You look a gentleman," she answered coldly; "any son of mine must look a gentleman. Of course, you look ridiculous—and, as far as that goes, you are ridiculous; but that doesn't matter quite so much as long as you look a gentleman."
"Oh, rot!"
Romer was trying to move a patch from one corner of his eye to the other.
"But as to Harry de Freyne?... And shall you allow your wife to dance with him in that costume?"
"Of course—why not? And—doesn't Valentia look—jolly?"
"I think the scarlet with her golden hair is rather too—striking," she answered spitefully. ”

“ Valentia, and saw great difficulties in the way of keeping it up later on. He had worrying doubts as to her consenting to revive it afterwards if he married.
Her grey eyes and soft fair hair with its dense waves held a lasting fascination for him. It has been well said that for each individual there exists in some other being some detail which he or she could find only in this particular person. It might be the merest trifle. Harry knew what it was in Val that had a specially compelling charm to him—it was the way her hair grew on her forehead. ”

“ Harry said, stretching himself.
Van Buren looked thoughtfully out of the window.
"How do you suppose our ro-mances will end?"
"As badly as possible; romances always do," [114] said Harry. "We ought to be only too thankful that they end at all."
"Why, I'm afraid you're a pessimist! How do you define a pessimist, Harry?"
"What a mania you have for definition, old chap! I think I agree with the little girl who said that an optimist is the man who looks after your eyes, and the pessimist the person who looks after your feet." ”

“ Who's going instead of Romer?"
"How should I know? We'll see."
"It's just as you like, darling," said Daphne in her level voice; "but in case the American hates me, and I hate him, and Harry's talking to you all the time, and I'm frightened of the celebrities, isn't anything going to be done for me?"
[23] "Of course not. What do you want? That Foster boy again? Don't look down and blush, it makes me sick. All right, perhaps, if there's room. He's a nice, decorative boy, but remember they don't dance at dinner, and that's the only thing he can do." ”

“ I like her, though she's rather a snob."
"Ah, they say all Americans are snobs, Harry, but I feel sure I'm not. Still, if I really liked a man I can't say I should turn against him even if he had a title."
"And if I really hated a person I should never get to like him, even if he had a bad reputation."
Van Buren looked surprised and impressed, also delighted. ”

“ What was now to his cynical mind screamingly funny about the American—his sensitive delicate feelings, his high standard of morals with regard to what he called the ladies, and illusions that one would rarely find in London in a girl of seventeen, might some day develop into priggishness and tediousness, and—especially—would take up too much time. For since Harry had been intimate with Van Buren he had discovered that the tradition of American hustling was, like most traditions, a fiction. Americans always have time ”

“ But it was Faust, or Romeo, or Paolo, all the same. He looked very handsome. The thought of scoring off other people in the house had raised his spirits and had even made him wake up in time. [231] Valentia's conversation with Vaughan, whom she knew to be honest and believed to be brilliant, had left a certain insidious influence on her which would tell gradually, and yet their talk had had rather a contradictory effect for the moment. She wanted to prove to herself that he was wrong. And Harry felt that his time was growing short. ”

“ Vaughan began to appeal to her imagination, such as it was. She was rather dazzled and began to weaken. She was at the age when one can really be in love with anybody, and she was flattered. Though she felt she would feel more at home with her childhood's friend, she began, very slightly, to look down upon him when she compared him with Gillie.
Vaughan came down the day after he had received her letter, and behaved precisely as usual.
Mr. Brill, meeting him with a rather shamefaced air in the garden, said straightforwardly—
"Very pleased indeed to see you, Mr. Vaughan. You got my letter, sir?" ”