Thomas Morley

“ I went on with my dinner. I knew that our host had heard what I said, for I saw him turn rather hastily to his butler.
Mr. Morley is a man difficult to describe, stiff in the back, and long and loose in the neck, reminding me of those toy-birds that bob head and tail up and down alternately. When he agrees with any thing you say, down comes his head with a rectangular nod; when he does not agree with you, he is so silent and motionless that he leaves you in doubt whether he has heard a word of what you have been saying. ”

“ Before Morley could enter the inn there were voices on the stairs, and the face of Juliet Carr herself appeared, with several others, in the doorway. It was as beautiful as ever, but somewhat pale, and there was a listless sadness in the expression, which spoke to Morley's heart, and told him that the spirit within could find no satisfaction in sporting with the feelings of him who loved her. Morley strove to be calm, to collect his thoughts, to tranquillize his demeanour; but every one must know how vain are such efforts at such a moment. ”

“ Morley felt as if he were somewhat ungrateful for scanning so closely the character of one who had treated him with much kindness, and, soon quitting such thoughts, he rang for his good old servant, Adam Gray, and enquired into all that had passed at Morley Court since he had left it--the situation of the poor cottagers, whose fate he had endeavoured to soften; the health of his horses and his dogs; the promises of the game season; and all those things that the most interest a very young Englishman, in his hours of health. ”

“ I turned to my visitor.
“I beg, Mr. Morley, that you will take a seat. Pray do not heed our excitable friend. Just now he can hardly be said to have the full control of his senses—as you yourself perceive. As you remarked, I am John Ferguson, the friend of Mr. Edwin Lawrence. You, I take it, are in the service of his brother, Mr. Philip.”
Mr. Morley’s calmness had not perceptibly increased. He seemed impressed by the way in which I had handled Hume; and, also, disposed to be influenced by the doctor’s express commands to hold his tongue; he was like a man between two stools. ”

“ And sure I am that if the whole world had risen up to point the finger of scorn at the one-eyed cripple, George Morley, the well-born gentleman—the refined scholar—the spotless Churchman—would have given him his arm, to lean upon, and walked by his side unashamed. ”

“ Sir Morley, will you take care of this lady till I return; I will not be long."
"Oh, Morley," said Juliet, the moment he was gone, "I have one great favour to ask of you--a favour that will make me as happy as anything can!"
"Name it, Juliet," replied Morley; "are you not sure that, to make you happy I would sacrifice life itself?"
"Never sit down again to a table like that, Morley," said Juliet. "You know not the agony of watching one that we love with a countenance full of passions which only the dark spirits of this place can impart. ”

“ Morley chuckled and remarked:
"Good for you to be disillusioned."
"I'm not in the least, with her. She is a divine piece of physical beauty. I wish I could get her on my canvas."
"You won't be able to; that old curmudgeon of a husband of hers will see to that."
"I should think he has the devil of a temper, judging by his offspring," I answered. "She looks sweet enough."
Morley nodded, and we finished our tea in silence. Suzee came back presently with cigarettes for us and sat down on the floor herself, rolling one up between supple fingers. She had an air of extraordinary unruffled placidity. ”

“ The moment Morley's eyes fixed upon his bust, the lightning of the mind flashed back into the chasm of past years--the scenes of other days, the block, the axe, the chamber of the torture, and all the dark implements with which that terrible man built up the fabric of his greatness, came before his eyes in a moment, and, for the first time since the cloud of sorrow had fallen upon him, his spirit found a momentary sunshine in the memories of ancient lore. ”

“ We’re so happy to be in the country again. Of course we live very simply, but Mr. Granville can always work so well when he gets away from the office. I feel so sorry for the men who have to be in town all summer.”
George feels a violent impulse to contradict her, but masters it. Phyl, he says, ask Lizzie to bring a spoon for the gravy. She always forgets it.—Mr. Martin, I’ll tell you the kind of people we are, we never have a carving knife sharp enough to cut with. ”

“ Your card was in the purse."
"Ah!"
"I see," said the curate, almost with relief. "Now you appreciate the true character of the man you offer to assist. Go, call in the police, and give me up to justice."
Morley's face became overcast, and a look of deep sorrow settled upon it. He sat in silence for a few moments, that seemed an age to the man cowering before him. Then he said, in an authoritative yet kind voice, "Campion, I am an old man, and your father's friend. I beseech of you to look on me as standing in his place, and tell me all about this sad affair. ”

“ There have been periods in my life, Morley, when I have felt more bitterly than you know of; and it is ever in such dull times as this that the memory of all which is sad and dark in the past comes upon me. I wish the Salon was opened; I think I could go and stake my last louis, to see if, by the gambler's feverish joy, I could cast off this oppressive weight upon my breast. Give me the wine, Morley, and let us have the windows closed--I love not the world nor anything in it! ”

“ He was the son of the laird, but he had been at the parish school with the young men, and once been their constant companion. He hunted for birds’ nests with them, he had fished with them, he had often broken into his father’s garden with them, and Morley was as one of themselves. He had ever been attentive to Mary Wilson; and she, if the umpire of a race or a wrestle, was always happy when she could adjudge the honour of victory to Charlie Morley, because he would at times snatch a kiss from her, and would always take her hand and assist her when wading through the burns. ”

“ Presently the old man stirred and looked at his bench companion. In Morley’s appearance he seemed to recognize something superior to the usual nightly occupants of the benches.
“Kind sir,” he whined, “if you could spare a dime or even a few pennies to one who”—
Morley cut short his stereotyped appeal by throwing him a dollar.
“God bless you!” said the old man. “I’ve been trying to find work for”—
“Work!” echoed Morley with his ringing laugh. “You are a fool, my friend. The world is a rock to you, no doubt; but you must be an Aaron and smite it with your rod. ”

“ Mr. Martin was a comforting sort of guest, he did not talk but just looked happy and was spooning up the sugar from the bottom of his glass. Drink life to the bottom of the vessel, you always find some sugar there, all the more palatable for the lemony taste.
A clear compulsory ringing trilled keenly across the lawn. They listened, unwilling to move.
Then there was the squeak of the screen being lifted in the pantry window. Lizzie put out her [65] head and called. Phyllis found it impossible to stir.
“George, you go. Then you can put on some dry socks.” ”

“ Morley examines his chest."
"'Morley!'" cried Alrina; "did I hear you rightly, sir? did you call that gentleman 'Morley?'"
"My name is Morley," said that gentleman, taking her hand; "I am the brother of one whom I know you have been led to believe will take you out of your present position, and raise you to his station in life."
"No, sir," replied Alrina, indignantly,—"my family shall never be a disgrace to anyone; and, let me tell you, sir, that neither you nor your brother shall ever be disgraced by me! I will never be the wife of a man who might afterwards despise me." ”

“ But, Morley, then came the greatest temptation of all. Weak, weak woman that I am! A voice within me whispered--Accept his offer, use every means of pleasing, put forth every effort, twine yourself round his heart with every binding tie, make yourself necessary to the joy of every hour--become a wife--Oh, Heaven! perhaps become a mother!--and honour, and virtue, and gratitude, will all combine to win for you that love which is now necessary to your existence! Oh, Morley, what a terrible temptation was there! How vanity flattered, and passion persuaded, and selfishness deceived! ”

“ Morley,—"not Isabella Morley, but Alrina Marshall!"
"My long lost child!" exclaimed Mrs. Courland, rushing towards Alrina, and embracing her tenderly, "I see the likeness myself!"
"Good heavens!" cried the captain, "is this our daughter? Then what has become of the other?"
"What other?" exclaimed Mr. Morley and Mrs. Courland in a breath.
"Why, the poor girl we have been in search of all night," replied the captain: "I concluded she was the lost child!" ”

“ What are we waiting for, she wondered. What is everyone waiting for, always? She was painfully aware of George standing near her. It was not silence that sundered them, but their grotesque desire to speak.
“George,” Phyllis was saying, “you give Ben a drink or something while I take the ladies——”
In the shadow beyond the table there was a clicking sound. Through the wide opening of the dining-room double doors two figures crawled, on all fours, with a toy train. Janet was in her [140] pyjamas, ready for bed. Martin’s hand moved the engine across the floor. They came into the stripe of sunset. ”

“ Like lettuce and mayonnaise, George had said, admiring the frail yellow collar. It brought out the clear blue of the eyes, like sluiced pebbles. She was almost amazed (looking closely) to see how clear they were, after so many angers, so much—physiology. One can be candid in solitude. Thirty-four. What was that story she had read, which said that a woman is at her most irresistible at thirty-five? Mother had sent it to her, in a magazine, and had written in the margin True of my Phyllis. She laughed. What a merciless comedy life is. ”

“ George said. “I can find it easier than Ben. There’s a flashlight in the car.”
He walked back to the stable. A lemonade-coloured moon was swimming above the maple tree. He did not bother to get the torch but slipped up the stair, moving noiselessly on rubber soles. The scarf was lying just at the top, where the steps emerged into the old harness room. He was about to glance into the hayloft, to satisfy his sentimental vision of how it would have looked to him and Joyce, a cavern of country fragrance, a musk of dead summers still banked there in pourried mounds. ”

“ Morley grew angry. "You young scoundrel!" he said, "I have a great inclination to take you up, and throw you out of that window into the square. You have a right to ask, indeed! You, who would have sold your sister to a low and vagabond swindler--you, now to talk of having any right to meddle in her affairs!"
"You are wrong, sir," said the young man, boldly, and with a more straightforward tone than Morley had seen him yet assume; "you are wrong, sir; I would not have sold my sister. I would not have taken a penny for myself. ”

“ What empty words, spoken at an altar, will erase from her heart the husband of her early dreams. Morley, if you are a lover--if you are a man--you will spare that sweet, mistaken girl the hell-fire tenderness of him whom she cannot love!"
"Hush, hush, hush!" cried Morley. "You will drive me mad!"
"You are mad already, Morley", replied Lieberg, "or you would fly to her at once. You would show her the brow which she loves, scathed with the lightning of passion, the form of him to whom she promised heaven, blighted by the consuming hell of disappointed affection. ”

“ Here, however, it should be explained that Morley had come from Oxford to go to work, at the age of twenty-three, at Garden City; that while learning the publishing business he had married Miss Helen Booth Fairchild, a New York girl whom he [Pg 372] had met in England. If, therefore, he modestly undertook to become the American poet of domesticity with his songs for households “of two or more,” the guilt should by no means be made personal to him, but may justly be laid at the door of the race. ”

“ Morley, be at ease; fear nothing. You are the sole proprietor of your own tongue, use it to preserve silence; no one can force you to speak unless you choose.”
I was not by any means so sure of this, in my own mind; but this was a detail. My object was to comfort Mr. Morley.
It was at the door of the house in Arlington Street that we parted; after all, I went with him the whole way—it was practically mine. I waited while he inquired if his master had returned. The face of the old lady who opened the door, and who I immediately concluded was Mrs. Morley, was answer enough ”

“ There's a defenceless high-church curate in the cellar with him. Mary, show the way downstairs.”
Blair poured out a glass of water for Mrs. Kent.
“Don't you think I had better go down, too?” he asked.
“Oh, please don't go!” begged Mrs. Kent, faintly. “Stay here, in case he should escape upstairs. I believe we shall all be murdered in our beds!”
“Come, come,” said Mr. Kent. “We mustn't let all this spoil Mr. Blair's supper. Have another glass of wine. The policeman will attend to the gas-man. We don't often get a chance to talk to a genuine antiquarian. ”

“ I know it, Morley--I am sure of it; and Juliet Carr would bless the woman who, as the wife of Morley Ernstein, would fulfil that vision of peace, and goodness, and delight, in which she herself must not share. Oh, that I might say all I know and all I think!--but I must not. Yet the time will, I trust, come ere long, when your own eyes will be opened to qualities far superior to any that I possess, and that you will at length find peace and affection with one upon whom there is no restraint, who can and will--perhaps does love you, even now. ”