Taverner

“ In the year 1662 an Apparition meets one Francis Taverner on the Highway; the man having Courage to speak to it, asks it what he is? and the Apparition tells him he is James Haddock, and gives him several [Pg 246] Tokens to remember him by, which Taverner also calling to mind owns them; and then boldly demands of the Apparition what business he had with him.... The next Night the Apparition comes to him again, and then tells him the Business, which was to desire him to go to his Wife, whose Maiden Name was Eleanor Welsh ”

“ Your proper place is at home with the family. The men on the roads are a wild lot.'
'So she said,' the carrier put in humbly, 'and of course Honor knows.'
'Now look you here, Luxmore,' said Taverner, 'I'm not a man to squander and give away, as every one in Bratton knows, but I'm not as hard as they are pleased to say, and where a worthy man is in need, and no great risk is seen by myself, and I'm not out of pocket, I don't mind helping him. I do not say but what I'll let you have my grey for keep. She's not an infant. ”

“ Tavernake answered. “I was thinking of those days in London; I was thinking of Beatrice's horror when she discovered that I was wearing ready-made clothes, and the amazement of Elizabeth when she found that I hadn't a dress suit. It's odd how cramped life gets back there.”
Pritchard nodded, pressing the tobacco down into the bowl of his pipe with his forefinger.
“You're right, Tavernake,” he agreed. “One loses one's sense of proportion. Men in the cities are all alike. They go about in disguise.”
“I should like,” Tavernake said, inconsequently, “to have Mr. Dowling out here.” ”

“ She avoided, however, any mention of that other supper they had had together. As time went on, the professor, who had drunk the best part of two bottles of wine and was talking now to a friend, became almost negligible. Tavernake leaned across the table.
“Beatrice,” he whispered, “you are not looking well. I am afraid that life is getting harder with you.” ”

“ Her long, rather narrow face was gripped between her hands; her elbows rested upon the brick parapet. She gazed at that world of blood-red mists, of unshapely, grotesque buildings, of strange, tawdry colors; she listened to the medley of sounds—crude, shrill, insistent, something like the groaning of a world stripped naked—and she had all the time the air of one who hates the thing she looks upon.
Tavernake, whose curiosity concerning his companion remained unappeased, decided that the moment for speech had arrived. He took a step forward upon the soft, pulpy leads. ”

“ They were very beautiful arms and Tavernake, although he had had no experience, was dimly aware of the fact. Her eyes, too, seemed always to be trying to reach some part of him which was dead, or as yet unborn. He could feel her striving to get there, beating against the walls of his indifference. Why should a woman wear blue stockings because she had a blue gown, he wondered idly. She was not like Beatrice, this alluring, beautiful woman, who lay there talking to him in a manner whose meaning came to him only in strange, bewildering flashes. ”

“ Tavernake was annoyed. He said nothing, and Beatrice, glancing up, laughed at his gloomy expression.
“You certainly are,” she declared, “the most impossible, the most primitive person I ever met. London isn't Arcadia, you know, and you are not my brother. Besides, you were such an autocrat. You didn't even like my going out to supper with Mr. Grier.”
“I hate the fellow!” Tavernake admitted. “Are you seeing much of him?”
“He took us all out to supper last night,” she replied. “I thought it was very kind of him to ask me.”
“Kind, indeed! Does he want to marry you?” Tavernake demanded. ”

“ The two girls got into a taxicab together, and Tavernake breathed a sigh of relief, a relief for which he was wholly unable to account, when he saw that Grier made no effort to follow them. As soon as the taxi had rolled away, they descended and passed into the street. Then the professor suddenly changed his tone.
“Mr. Tavernake,” he said, “I know what you are thinking about me: I am a weak old man who drinks too much and who wasn't born altogether honest. I can't give up anything. I'd be happier, really happier, on a crust with Beatrice, but I daren't, I simply daren't try it. ”

“ They conversed together in whispers. Tavernake took no notice. His jaw was set. Himself unseen, he was gazing steadfastly at that table below. The head waiter shrugged his shoulders and departed; his other clients must be mollified. There was a finality which was unanswerable about Tavernake's methods.
Tavernake ate and drank what they brought to him, ate and drank and suffered. Everything was as it had been that other night—the popping of corks, the soft music, the laughter of women, the pleasant, luxurious sense of warmth and gayety pervading the whole place. ”

“ Tavernake would make a great mistake,” she said, hesitatingly. “It is not well for those who have brains to work with their hands. It is not a place for those to live who have been out in the world. At most seasons of the year it is but a wilderness. Sometimes there is little enough to do, even for father.”
“I am not ambitious for over-much work or for over-much money, Miss Nicholls,” Tavernake replied. ”

“ There was something almost spiritual about her pallor, the delicate outline of her figure, so imperfectly concealed by the thin silk dressing-gown, the faint, tired smile with which she welcomed him.
“You will forgive my receiving you like this, Mr. Tavernake?” she begged. “To-day I have a headache. I have been anxious for your coming. You must sit by my side, please, and tell me at once whether you have seen Beatrice.”
Tavernake did exactly as he was bidden. The chair toward which she had pointed was quite close to the sofa, but there was no other unoccupied in the room. ”

“ Sometimes I think, though, father, that you frighten them with some of your work, and you must remember that they come to be amused.”
“That,” the professor admitted, “is the most sensible remark you have made, Beatrice. There is indeed something terrifying in some of my manifestations, terrifying even to myself, who understand so thoroughly my subject. However, as you say, we will dismiss the matter for the present. The thought of this supper party is a pleasant one. Do you remember, Mr. Tavernake, the night when you and I met in the balcony at Imano's?” ”

“ I am her father and I am her slave. I tell myself that I would rather be with Beatrice, and I am as powerless to go as though I were bound with chains. You are a young ignorant man, Mr. Tavernake, you know nothing of life, and I will give you a word of warning. It is better for you that you keep away from over there.”
He raised one hand and pointed across the street towards the Milan Court; with the other he once more gripped Tavernake's arm.
“Why she should take the trouble even to speak with you for a moment, I do not know,” the professor continued, “but she does. ”

“ Tavernake filled her glass and his own.
“Luck to you in your new profession!” he said.
“And here is one after your own heart, you most curious of men!” she exclaimed, a few seconds later. “To the undiscovered in life!”
He drained his glass and set it down empty.
“The undiscovered,” he muttered, looking around. “It is a very good toast, Beatrice. There are many things of which one might remain ignorant all one's life if one relied wholly upon one's own perceptions.” ”

“ Get into the car with me and drive back to my rooms at the Milan Court, and I will give you a cheque for a hundred pounds at once. It will be very easily earned and you may just as well take it, for now I know where you are employed, I could have you followed day by day until I discover for myself what you are so foolishly concealing. Be reasonable, Mr. Tavernake.”
Tavernake stood quite still. His arms were folded, he was looking out of the hall window at the smoky vista of roofs and chimneys. From the soles of his ready-made boots to his ill-brushed hair, he was a commonplace young man. ”

“ I ask you to take me to dinner and you refuse. Do you know that scarcely a man in London would not have jumped at such a chance?”
“Very likely,” Tavernake answered. “I have no experience in such matters. I only know that I am going to do something else.”
“Something you want to do very much?” she whispered.
“I am going down to a little music-hall in Whitechapel,” Tavernake said, “and I am going to meet your sister and I am going to put her in a cab and take her to have some supper, and I am going to worry her until she promises to be my wife.” ”

“ You belong, to put it baldly, to altogether different social stations, and it is not easy to imagine what you could have in common.”
She paused, but Tavernake had nothing to say. His gift of silence amounted sometimes almost to genius. She leaned so close to him while she waited in vain for his reply, that the ermine about her neck brushed his cheek. The perfume of her clothes and hair, the pleading of her deep violet-blue eyes, all helped to keep him tongue-tied. ”

“ Tavernake answered, doubtfully. “You are only talking of the men, of course?”
Pritchard smiled.
“My young friend,” he agreed, “I am only talking of the men. At the same time, I guess I'm not betraying any confidence, or telling you anything that Mrs. Wenham Gardner doesn't know herself, when I say that she's doing her best to qualify for a similar position.”
“You mean that she is doing something against the law!” Tavernake exclaimed, indignantly. “I don't believe it for a moment. If she is associating with these people, it's because she doesn't know who they are.” ”

“ Tavernake took it mechanically and held it in his fingers. It was a cheque for twelve thousand pounds.
“You see,” she said, “I have not forgotten. This is the day, isn't it? If you like, you can stay and have lunch with me up here and we will drink to the success of our speculation.”
Tavernake held the cheque in his fingers; he made no motion to put it in his pocket. She looked at him with a puzzled frown upon her face.
“Do talk or say something, please!” she exclaimed. “You look at me like some grim figure. Say something. Sit down and be natural.” ”

“ In this country you will never develop. In my country, sir, we should make a colossus of you. We should teach you not to be content with small things; we should raise your hand which you yourself kept to your side, and we should point your finger to the skies. Waiter,” he added, turning abruptly round, “if the quails are not yet ready I will take another of these excellent cocktails.”
Tavernake was embarrassed. He saw that Beatrice was anxious to talk to her father ”

“ The professor, in whose face seemed written the most abject terror, was talking. Tavernake now could hear every word distinctly.
“My dear Elizabeth! My dear Crease! You are both too precipitate! I tell you that I protest—I protest most strongly. Mr. Pritchard, I am sure, with a little persuasion, will listen to reason. I will not be a party to any such proceeding as—as this. You understand, Crease? We have gone quite far enough as it is. I will not have it.”
Elizabeth laughed softly.
“My dear father,” she said, “you will really have to take something for your nerves. ”

“ Tavernake made no immediate reply. Mr. Dowling was shortsighted, and in any case it would never have occurred to him to associate nervousness, or any form of emotion, with his responsible manager. The beautiful lady leaned back in her chair. Her lips were parted in a slight but very curious smile, her fingers supported her cheek, her eyelids were contracted as she looked into his face. Tavernake felt that their recognition was mutual. Once more he was back again in the tragic atmosphere of that chemist's shop, with Beatrice, half fainting, in his arms, the beautiful lady turned to stone. ”

“ The lady on the couch sighed.
“Beatrice has at least a friend,” she murmured. “It is a great deal to have a friend. It is more than I have. We are both so far from home here. Often I am sorry that we ever left America. England is not a hospitable country, Mr. Tavernake.”
Again this painfully literal young man spoke out what was in his mind.
“There was a gentleman in the motor-car with you the other night,” he reminded her.
She bit her lip.
“He was just an acquaintance,” she answered, “a man whom I used to know in New York, passing through London. ”

“ She nodded.
“My sister has more influence than I. She makes life easier for him.”
They reached the restaurant and made their way upstairs. Tavernake appropriated the same table and once more the head waiter protested.
“If the gentleman comes again to-night,” Tavernake said, “you will find that he will be only too glad to have supper with us.”
Then the professor came. He made his usual somewhat theatrical entrance, carrying his broad-brimmed hat in his hand, brandishing his silver-topped cane. When he saw Tavernake and Beatrice, he stopped short. ”

“ There were Walter Crease, Major Post, two men whom he had never seen before in his life—heavy of cheek, both, dull-eyed, but dressed with a rigid observance of the fashion of the city, in short dinner coats and black ties. And between them was Elizabeth. Tavernake gripped the sides of his chair and looked. Yes, she had altered. Her eyebrows were a trifle made up, there was a tinge in her hair which he did not recognize, a touch of color in her cheeks which he doubted. Yet her figure and her wonderful presence remained, that art of wearing her clothes as no other woman could. ”