Mr. Craven

“ But I tell you what, William Craven, there are lots of poor creatures in the world even poorer than we are—tutors and starved curates, and the like. Get one of them to stay at the Hall till he finds out where the trick is, and I won't mind saying he shall have fifty pounds down for his pains; that is, I mean, of course, when he has discovered the secret of all these strange lights, and suchlike."
And feeling she had by this proposition struck Mr. Craven under the fifth rib, Miss Blake rose to depart. ”

“ Craven rings the bell, announces that he has developed typhoid fever and orders a doctor to be sent for."
"What sort of man is Mr. Craven senior?"
"He seems to be a quiet old fellow, a scholar and learned philologist. Neither his neighbours nor his family see much of him; he almost lives in his study, writing a treatise, in seven or eight volumes, on comparative philology. He is not a rich man. Troyte's Hill, though it carries position in the county, is not a paying property, and Mr. Craven is unable to keep it up properly. ”

“ Miss Margaret Craven had not yet come in, but would Mr. Dune, perhaps, go up and see Mrs. Craven? The old woman's teeth chattered in the cold little hall. "We are dead, all of us dead here," the skins on the walls seemed to say; "and you'll be dead soon . . . oh! yes, you will."
Olva went up to Mrs. Craven. The windows of her room were tightly closed and a great fire was blazing; before this she lay stretched out on a sofa of faded green—her black dress, her motionless white hands, her pale face, her moving eyes. ”

“ Three days later, as soon as it was deemed prudent, Sharpley called again at the house. He had boarded meanwhile at the hotel in the village, comprehending very clearly that Mr. Craven was not at liberty to receive him as a guest.
Mrs. Craven descended, at her husband's request, to meet the man whom she detested. She had received a second call from Ben, who, with all secrecy, showed her a line from Frank, to the effect that he was well, had found good friends, and should very shortly embark for America. ”

“ He doesn't look as if he was worth five hundred dollars in the world. What made him tell you all this?"
"He said that some people would accuse him of being a fortune-hunter, and he wanted to convince me that he was not one."
"It may be a true story, and it may not," said Frank.
"You are really very unjust, Frank," said his mother. "I don't pretend to love Mr. Craven, and he doesn't expect it, but I am sure he has [27] been very kind, and he takes a great deal of interest in you, and you will learn to know him better." ”

“ I wanted to tell you that our connection with the River Hall property must be considered at an end."
"Well, well, that is the way of men, I suppose—in England."
"I do not think any man, whether in England or Ireland, could have done more for a client than I have tried to do for you, Miss Blake," was the offended answer.
"I am sure I have never found fault with you," remarked Miss Blake, deprecatingly.
"And I do not think," continued Mr. Craven, unheeding her remark, "any lawyer ever met with a worse return for all his trouble than I have received from you." ”

“ Hunter.
"But, setting aside my affection, think how much it will relieve you of care. Dear Mrs. Hunter, the care of your property and the [16] responsibility of educating and training your son is too much for a woman."
"Frank never gives me any trouble," said Mrs. Hunter. "He is a good boy."
"He is a disagreeable young scamp, in my opinion," thought Mr. Craven, but he said, unwittingly speaking the truth:
"He is indeed a noble boy, with excellent qualities, but you will soon be called upon to form plans for his future, and here you will need the assistance of a man." ”

“ They refuse altogether to share my suspicions respecting young Mr. Craven."
Mr. Griffiths was a tall, thin-featured man, with iron-grey hair, but so close to his head that it refused to do anything but stand on end. This gave a somewhat comic expression to the upper portion of his face and clashed oddly with the melancholy look that his mouth habitually wore.
"I have made all smooth for you at Troyte's Hill," he presently went on. "Mr. Craven is not wealthy enough to allow himself the luxury of a family lawyer, so he occasionally employs the services of Messrs. ”

“ I shall soon be a man at any rate, and I am sure we can get along as well as we have done."
Mrs. Hunter was not a strong or a resolute woman, but even women of her type can be obstinate at times. She had convinced herself, chiefly through Mr. Craven's suggestion, that the step she was about to take was for Frank's interest, and the thought pleased her that she was sacrificing herself for him. The fact that she didn't fancy Mr. Craven, of course heightened the sacrifice, and so Frank found her far more difficult of persuasion than he anticipated. ”

“ So I have just brought her to you to know if her mother's old friend thinks it is a right thing for Kathleen Elmsdale's daughter to put herself under the feet of a parcel of ignorant, purse-proud snobs?"
Mr. Craven looked at the girl kindly. "My dear," he said, "I think, I believe, there will be no necessity for you to do anything of that kind. We have found a person—have we not, Patterson?—willing to devote himself to solving the River Hall mystery. ”

“ Tranfield?
GRACE. Simply that Miss Craven is essentially a womanly woman, and, as such, not eligible for membership.
JULIA. It's false. I'm not a womanly woman. I was guaranteed when I joined just as you were.
GRACE. By Mr. Charteris, I think, at your own request. I shall call him as a witness to your thoroughly womanly conduct just now in his presence and Dr. Paramore's.
CRAVEN. Cuthbertson: are they joking; or am I dreaming?
CUTHBERTSON (grimly) . It's real, Dan: you're awake.
SYLVIA (taking Craven's left arm and hugging it affectionately) . Dear old Rip Van Winkle! ”

“ She wrapped it in a paper, and carrying it out into the garden, dug a hole in which she deposited it.
"Won't the ould villain be surprised when he sees the dog alive and well to morrow morning?" she said to herself, with exultation.
Fifteen minutes later, Mr. Craven, from an upper window, had the satisfaction of seeing the dog greedily eating what he supposed would be his last meal on earth.
"That'll fix him!" he muttered, smiling viciously. "He won't attack me again very soon. Young impudence will never know what hurt the brute. [52] That's the way I mean to dispose of my enemies." ”

“ This afternoon he mingled with the crowd, but he did not heed it, so that he did not see a woman in a motor energetically waving her hand to him and directing the chauffeur to stop.
“Mr. Paton—oh! Mr. Paton, what a day-dream!”
It was Claudia herself, looking altogether charming in light summer attire. There were waving, greeny-blue ostrich feathers in her Leghorn hat and around her neck. The softness of the feathers and the peculiar shade of blue accentuated the creamy tint of her skin and the brightness of her eyes. ”

“ I slowly took off my greatcoat, and then sat down in a chair by the table facing him, he remaining standing. After a pause:
'You have rather taken me by surprise, Mr. Leicester,' he said, 'I, ah, did not expect you till to-morrow morning: as you have said, as you have said.—Did Dr. Craven give you any information about the, ah, reason for your journey?' (Looking up at me as before.) 'No? he did not?—Very well. He acted wisely. I have every possible reason to believe that Dr. Craven is a man of distinguished, ah, fore-thought.' (He kept on inserting 'ah's' in that way all the while.) ”

“ Mr Powys is neither a windy romancer nor a reporter of actualities; in his spiritual groping he has felt deeply and hated bitterly; he has thrown a scorching light on the stingy souls of the Dorset villagers, and has produced a shocking book—shocking, that is, in the aesthetic sense. ”

“ Occasionally, Frank Craven, since famous as the author of many successful Broadway plays, came down and watched pictures being made. While he personally didn’t care about the movies, through him Jack Standing came down and jobbed at twenty per. Through friendship for Mr. and Mrs. Frank Powell, with whom he had acted in Ellen Terry’s company, David Powell entered the fold for twenty per. Even though money tempted, the high-class actor came more readily through friendship for some one already “in” than as a cold business proposition. ”

“ Run home as fast as ever you can."
"Why, what's the matter?" demanded Frank, in great alarm.
"Them rascals, Mr. Craven and Sharpley, pretend that your mother is [329] crazy, just because she won't hear to your bein' dead, and they're takin' her to the crazy 'sylum. I couldn't stand it, and I run out to see if I couldn't get help."
"The blamed skunk!" exclaimed Mr. Tarbox, swinging his arms threateningly. "Let me get a hold of him and he won't never know what hurt him."
Meanwhile, Craven and Sharpley had forced Mrs. ”

“ Mr Powys is singularly successful in his handling of sexual matters; the stolid repressions of the Dorset folk are cleverly hinted at, and then suddenly divulged with swift and unexpected fierceness. It is a relief to find a writer who appreciates the significance of sex, and is not afraid to discuss the subject honestly ”

“ Mr Butler does not completely overlook the value of the personal equation, but he commits the common academic blunder of separating it from the processes embodied in plastic composition. He does not seem to grasp the fact that our various ways of seeing things, of going up against the world, demand in our different expressions very special interpretations, and that a distorted perspective and a violently forced tonality may be not only adequate, but necessary to enhance certain emotions of depth. ”

“ Mr Butler's conception of realism has no basis in experience; it is an old and academic set of laboratory deductions, bearing practically no connexion with our emotional contacts, and therefore of little use either to artist or layman. It is a truism that art is born only in our emotional contacts, and that it is forwarded and pushed to completion, however intellectual the processes called into play, by distinctly emotional impulses. ”

“ It is a much better book than the ridiculous title would indicate; in fact, a work of uncommon beauty, decidedly different from Soliloquies of a Hermit, and possessed of many of the qualities of fine fiction. Mr Powys is no longer the preacher—a more intimate acquaintance with the Dorset villagers has robbed him of his faith; and though he has failed to save his soul, he has taken the raw materials of rural life and shaped them into literary forms, and that, in itself, is one kind of salvation. ”

“ Mr Butler explains the term values with unusual clarity, but vastly exaggerates the participation of natural values in the construction of the third dimension. The logic of composition—the fundamental need for congruity—demands a balance of light and dark throughout the canvas, a distribution of tonal areas approximately equal in intensity, but entirely at variance with literal values: nature, faithfully transcribed, reveals an unduly prominent foreground and a blurred stretch of distance ”

“ Whether it is possible for colour, when intensified to the glaring transparency of light, to stimulate us aesthetically by a mere indication of sequential action, I cannot say. The science of optics would be against the assumption; for the eye, unlike the ear, cannot accommodate itself to intense and prolonged sensations. This, however, belongs to the future, and Mr Wright only prophesies—he makes no definite explanations. He argues that the human organism in the exciting stress of modern life can no longer react to so tepid an art as painting. ”

“ Whether sequences of colour and form operate sensationally in time, or in the calmer intellectual world of pure contemplation, is of no moment—a change of vehicle implies no more than a surface alteration. I do not believe, however, that Mr Wright's opinions will have much weight in the new art which he sponsors. If such an art is feasible, it will introduce new designs compatible with its content, as in the case of the new movements in painting. ”

“ At certain happy moments, those of us who have advocated the human value of aesthetics are inclined to feel enthusiastic over the advance of modernism—and then Mr Butler comes along and puts us out of humour, and forces us to return to the elementary stages of our efforts. It would seem that the hypothetical person of average intelligence seeking information must be led back to first principles—so let us cry out once more in unison, "Art is not imitation, but reconstruction!" ”

“ As long as there are conceptions sufficiently moving to provoke expressional volition, new forms will be found to embody them. If it were true, as Mr Wright holds, that all compositional rhythms have been utilized, there would be no need for the new art of mobile colour; for this innovation at best could only restate in a new medium things which have already been fixed in the theoretic mind. ”

“ All questions of drawing, colour, line, mass, et cetera, apart from the meaning they convey when combined into expressive symbols, are essentially mechanical; indeed they are as remote from true aesthetics as would be a knowledge of geology and botany in the analysis of the emotional appeal of a beautiful landscape. Technical manipulation, even among artists, has been at all times of far less concern than Mr Wright concedes. ”