R. K. Weekes

“ Angela was beginning to see what life would be to Bernard Fane’s wife. Stable as the English soil beneath their feet, temperate as this English summer night, with no tropic storms and no yawning earthquakes, so would his love be; the cupboards in his house held no skeletons. All Angela’s adventurous thoughts of freedom were coming home to shelter under a man’s protecting care. It was true that Bernard had developed a talent for saying what should not be said; but that Angela resentfully ascribed to Dolly’s interference. She saw herself darning her stalwart protector’s socks by the fireside. ”

“ Searle drinks, and the others are as bad, or worse. They’re helpless.”
Farquhar did not answer her. She had just moved into the sunlight, and he was startled by her beauty. No flower-loveliness was hers, delicate and evanescent; she glowed like a jewel with colour, the brighter for the sunlight which illumined the rich damask of her cheeks, the rich whiteness of her brow, the rich hazel of her eyes, the rich chestnut of her hair. Dolly Fane possessed in its full splendour the misnamed devil’s beauty, the beauty of colour, vitality, youth. ”

“ Bernard, standing still, thought fashionable people talked like imbeciles. Dolly, shy, though no one saw it, was in a glow of triumph.
Their way home led through woods. So much rain had fallen that the mossy bridle-path was scored with deep ruts full of water, and Dolly had to hold her skirt away from the black leaf-mould. [59] Rain-drops held in crumpled copper leaves shone gemlike, smooth young stems glistened; only the grey boles of the forest trees looked warm and dry. Dolly, herself like a russet leaf, harmonised with the woodland scenery, which seemed a frame made for her. ”

“ Farquhar laughed. “I took it.”
“Oho, my irreverent friend, you did, did you?”
“I did. Heavenly sweet it was, too; where do they get it, these girls, the power to drive a man sheer mad—hold on, will you? you dashed fool! That’s meant for me, De Saumarez, not you.”
“It’s a fact,” said Lucian, “that I never could resist a kiss myself. After all, there’s no harm in it, and it’s mighty agreeable when both parties are willing; though I take it Miss Dolly was not?” ”

“ The quarries are hardly eyesores. The approaches of Farquhar’s were even picturesque; the intractable granite, interrupting with its fire-scarred shoulders the suave contour of the hills, had scattered rocks across the stream, which reared in a white ruff round each and raced away with plenty of noise and foam. The stately cliff which the quarrymen were labouring to destroy rose up behind from among trees. Lucian, who never loved his bed, by six o’clock had had his breakfast and was standing on the verge, looking down into the pit. ”

“ Virtue failed to reward itself here. Moreover, he was partly of opinion that he had made a fool of himself in making friends with a stranger. The hollow sound of Lucian’s cough and the mournful display of dripping passengers at Dover were consolatory, inasmuch as they permitted him to father his impulsive behaviour on common humanity.
Of those, dripping passengers Farquhar was the wettest and least pitiable. For the past four hours he had been leaning over the bows, watching the speed of the steamer, and formulating arguments that should be urgent enough to procure him a special at Dover. ”

“ He took from Dolly’s hand the warm and foaming milk, drank it, and went on his way, walking, as Lucian now noticed, slightly lame, but gracefully still, as he went up the steep, stony path. Dolly said, watching him with softened eyes, as she sometimes watched Lucian: “He looks tired to death. I am sure he is not strong.”
“Maternal spirit! You were born to be a nurse, Dolly.”
“No. I never want to nurse women or children, but I am sorry for men, especially when they are plucky, as he is. I wonder who he can be?” ”

“ Vague discomfort followed; then he opened his eyes and saw, as a vignette beyond a tunnel of darkness, the [15] face of a man reading a letter. That letter, written by a woman’s hand on thick blue paper with a gilded monogram, was familiar to Lucian; it was the same which he for nine years had carried close to his heart. Without wonder he saw the dream-stranger turn the page and read to the end, he watched him fold it up and put it back in its place; and then the trance reabsorbed him, and again he revelled in delicious dreams under the magic touch of Noel Farquhar. ”

“ After great searchings of heart she had come to admit that Bernard was all the world to her; but she would much have preferred to renounce the world and remain her maiden self. Angela was a little ascetic. Though she loved him truly, it cost her a bitter struggle to admit a man into her life; especially a man such as Bernard, who would gently brush away all her delicate scruples and cobwebs of privacy, and take possession of her, body and soul. She could trust him to be gentle, but would he understand? To Angela, wifehood seemed a strange and terrible thing. ”

“ Dolly let her paper drop against her skirt.
“I never should have sent you, Lal; I ought to have known better. I to think he had hurt Lucian! Oh, I have been a fool. A baby could not be more harmless than Noel Farquhar when he cares for any one; and he does care for Lucian. There, I’ve been in the wrong all through. I like him; I like both of them. This is a hateful affair. I wonder, I do wonder what they’ll do.”
“I should fancy that Farquhar will console himself within the year,” said Lal, perversely. “I’m very sorry for De Saumarez.” ”

“ It was fortunate for him that the language of the eye cannot be put in as evidence, for Lucian knew that he had detected, in Farquhar’s too candid orbs, a tacit acknowledgment of all the deceit wherewith he was desirous of charging him.
Next morning in country and city men awoke to a white, silent world under a dome of blue, immaculate sky. There was no wind; and the breath of horse and rider hung still in the air [29] after Noel Farquhar as he rode up to Burnt House. A huge sweep of bare, white country lay outspread, sparkling in the sun ”

“ Waist-high stood out a broad white shelf, now piled with square frames of unpainted deal confining square panes of glass, upon one of which Dolly was spreading soft white pomade with a palette-knife. A bushel-basket half filled with violets stood beside her; the air reeked with the scent of them. Lucian’s curiosity found vent in the natural inquiry:
“What on earth are you doing?”
“Oh, it’s you, is it?” Dolly glanced round, straightened her shoulders, swept her basket to the floor, and exposed a three-legged milking-stool. “There’s a chair for you; you must not stand. I’m making scent.” ”

“ That afternoon Dolly tied a handkerchief over her head and with Maggie’s help spring-cleaned the parlour, an operation which involved the brushing, clapping, and dusting of every separate volume on the shelves. She moved the furniture out into the hall, swept the floor with tea-leaves mixed with violets, and had everything tidy in time for tea at half-past five. A capable housewife was Dolly Fane. But after tea she left Maggie to wash up, under orders to be careful of the Worcester china which Lucian admired, and herself went out for a walk to rest herself. ”

“ Presently the whistle of a siren silenced the music, and with one accord the quarrymen left their work and took shelter. Five minutes later, a detonation and strong reverberations shook the cliff; and when the smoke cleared, Lucian saw fresh boulders lying displaced from their bed, and a fresh scar graven upon the corrugated walls. So the work went on. Danger was always present; but the danger of the quarry is not like the loathsome sleuth-hound of disease which tracks down the potter and the worker in lead. ”

“ If a man ever was the slave of love, that was Noel Farquhar. He had purpose and lust and will to leave Lucian stifling under the granite, and to pry into his letter, and to marry Dolly in triumph over his grave ”

“ One might expect to find originality in his theory of life, anachronisms in his creed, possibly asceticism, certainly unworldliness: in fact, all those queer ideas whose existence Angela unhappily suspected. So much may be read in a momentary twist of the lips. Chivalry here in the twentieth century! Bernard looked on woman as an inferior animal, Lucian as a comrade, Farquhar as slave or sultana by turns: Dolly’s observations and reflections were summed up in the involuntary remark:
“Mr. Laurenson, how very odd you are!” ”

“ Most excitable men fall disinterestedly in love with danger at least once in their lives; Lucian himself had done so before, and had stopped a mad dog scare by picking up in his arms the supposed terror, an extremely depressed but perfectly sane fox-terrier. For this piece of uncalculated bravado he had consistently and correctly disclaimed the title of heroism, of course in vain. He turned now and marched gaily down the path, with the intention of falling to work at once; but midway down he encountered Farquhar, with Charlesworth, the quarry-master, and was stopped for introduction. ”

“ Even as Farquhar wished it, the contemptuous and insulting reference displeased Lucian; the letter was still sacred in his eyes. But he would not, and he did not, allow the feeling to be seen. Farquhar’s measure of reserve was matched by his present openness; but Lucian, whose affairs were everybody’s business, kept his mind as a fenced garden and a fountain sealed. Action and reaction are always equal [72] and opposite; the law is true in the moral as well as the physical world. ”

“ In plain English, I, not being a Christian, do not desire Christian burial. I have neither hope nor wish for a joyful resurrection. This has been my lifelong creed. I have been at the pains to belie it, and live as the model of virtue, both in public and private, in order to earn the esteem of my respectable British fellow-citizens. [288] I challenge any man living to say I have not succeeded. Honesty is unquestionably the best policy for the man who wishes to thrive: experto crede. I would not wish to die with a lie on my lips; the taste of truth is pleasantly novel. ”

“ As he evidently meant to keep his word, Lucian subsided, and gave himself up to observing. The room was conventionally furnished, but he saw on the floor the skin of a black panther, and behind the door the nine-foot spiral ivory horn of a narwhal, trophies which even Whiteley cannot provide. Himself a wanderer, he rejoiced to see such tokens of his host’s pursuits; a sportsman is kin to a sportsman all the world over. From studying the furniture he turned to study Noel Farquhar. ”

“ No lover journeying to his bride, nor widow hurrying to the sick-bed of her only son, ever found the giant steam more laggard. Five o’clock brought them to Houyet, where they changed trains and had their second encounter; for the platform was crowded, and Farquhar, springing into an empty seat at the moment before their start, found himself face to face with Lucian, and fled out again with an exclamation which the Belgian ladies, sitting stout and placid in an atmosphere of indescribable tobacco, luckily did not understand. ”

“ He was horribly bruised; another man would have been disabled. But Farquhar was by nature insensitive to suffering, and, besides, his will scorned to submit to the weakness of his body; he refused to be fettered by pain. This man of many sins was not planning for his own safety; he was remembering only that Lucian had been standing under the rock destroyed, and he swore at the impediments that delayed him as though he could wither them up by the fire of his curses. He struggled free, and saw lying under him the fragments of the detonator, with a length of fuse attached. ”

“ Your idea of a wife seems to be a—a kind of carpet for you to walk on. You don’t know why you wanted to marry me; I’m sure I don’t know, either, since you say it was not for my money. You evidently don’t think I’m good for anything useful, and you’ve told me that I’m not ornamental. I’m not fit to do any of the things Dolly does; I’m not to walk two miles without your permission; I’m not to be trusted to go about in London at all, and you even expect me to give up the work I’ve been doing for years, and can do! Thank you, Mr. Fane, the prospect is not sufficiently attractive. ”

“ Angela said at last: “Maud, do you really think I ought to beg his pardon?”
“Haven’t the slightest doubt of it, my dear.”
“It will look as though I wanted—”
“Exactly what you do want. You’ve been talking a great deal about the rights of women all your life; haven’t you found out yet that a woman’s best right is to obey her husband?”
“No, I haven’t, and I don’t think it is.”
“Then it’s time you learned that it is. We aren’t made for anything else, my dear, you and I; we’re ordinary women, and we must [238] make the best of it. You can’t imitate Dolly Fane, so don’t try to.” ”

“ The steepness of Hungrygut Bottom plus the violent snortings of a steam-roller had again proved too much for the nerves of the chestnut; he bolted down the hill and almost kicked the cart to pieces before Dolly, who had jumped out, could catch and quell him. She left the dog-cart for repair at Dove Green, the next village, and led Vronsky home. Her dark cloth dress had a long skirt, which she held up gracefully, like a French girl, with curved wrist and prettily bent hand. ”

“ That’s where you make a mistake, my girl; women never know themselves.”
“I know myself well enough to be sure I’m not going to kiss you.”
“Very possibly you aren’t; that’s not the point, though I should like you to. I’m going to kiss you.”
“Let me go!”
“One kiss, Dolly.”
“Let me go!” Dolly repeated, struggling against him. She would have had a chance with any other man, for she was strong and supple and desperate; but Noel Farquhar’s arms closed round her like a snake’s constricting folds. Though the cottage was within earshot, Dolly would have died sooner than call for help. ”

“ He won her by being better than herself. Dolly was a little pagan; her love was wild as a bird; but in it ran a puritan strain which claimed an answering [203] purity in the man she loved. Irreproachable though he was, Noel Farquhar could not give her that, nor yet could Lucian, though he was nearer to her ideal. But in Dolly’s room at home she had an engraving of Watts’s fine picture of Sir Galahad; and the artist might have drawn his young knight’s face from Lal as he looked on a Sunday morning in church, when he sat in his corner behind a pillar which hid him from sight, as he thought. ”