In the calmest and most commonplace way did Claudia Branscombe talk to Stephen concerning the news of Idlechester and Kingsleat. Lightly did she refer to Anne's elopement, quoting the ancient proverb anent marrying in haste and repenting at leisure, and saying "Poor child! A mere baby, and now Mrs. Morfill. I hope the young man will be kind to her; but his conduct shows that he is selfish, and selfish men have seldom much kindness." 66 'Only a brute could be unkind to her," said Stephen. "What, are you in love with her still? You were very fortunate to lose her. Your own character-excuse my frankness--has not yet much stability, and if you had married her it would have been terrible for both. You would have been like Well, comparisons are odious," she said, laughing. "But I think it was well for you." 66 Possibly," said Stephen. "One is not always perfectly satisfied with what everybody else professes to think the best thing that could happen. I had a certain faith and loyalty which Mrs. Morfill's conduct has shattered. I have now to recommence the world on a new principle." "Don't you think," asked Claudia, 66 that you may be hasty in condemning the whole of our sex because one little girl has been unfaithful ?" "Ah, I wish I could tell. Nothing except experience will enable me to correct an error of that kind. Can you wonder that I am in a state of utter uncertainty ?" "I don't wonder, but I think you would be wise not to come to hasty conclusions. However, it is an unimportant matter to everyone but yourself." Raphael Branscombe presently joined them, and dinner was announced. A good dinner, we may be sure, at an establishment of which Raphael was the head. From the oysters and anchovy salad to the icepudding from the Montrachet to the Chateau Yquem-everything was perfect. Stephen, whose capacity for enjoyment was enviably complete, dined like an Emperor. By-and-by the Panther retired, and Raphael and Stephen were left alone. Their conversation was curious. Neither understood the other. Raphael regarded Stephen as a mere greenhorn, a foolish, inexperienced boy, who could be enticed into any kind of extravagance or absurdity, whereas Stephen had in him just so much of the poetic faculty as enabled him to detect what was false and forged, to shrink from what was ridiculous. Stephen thought Raphael a marvellous specimen of the human race, for beauty, for skill, for general cleverness-nor ever suspected in him that astucity which lay at the base of his other qualities. The game, therefore, which these two were playing, unconsciously, so far as one of these was concerned, was singular. Each imagined he knew the others cards and didn't. "Do you intend to remain long in London?" asked Raphael, in the course of conversation. "I really have no decided intention," said Stephen. "It seems to me that for a man without any definite object in life, London is about the best place to live." 66 "Well, I don't see why you should have no object in life," returned Raphael; but that, of course, is your affair, only if you think of remaining in town, you should belong to a club, and I'll put your name down at the Chandos, if you like." "Ishall be very glad," said Stephen. And what are you going to do this evening?" "This evening!" replied Stephen, in some amazement, looking at his watch. 'Why, it is ten o'clock now. I thought of going back to the Chapter Coffee-house in about an hour." 66 Just the time to begin the evening," said Raphael. "However, nobody can wonder at your inexperience, seeing that you are fresh from an old-world place like Idlechester. But if you don't mind making a night of it, you and I will turn out presently, after a cup of tea." "I am at your service," said Stephen. "And if you mean to remain in town, don't stay at that place in St. Paul's Churchyard. Let me find you rooms somewhere in this part of London." Stephen assented, Raphael rang the bell, and sent for his valet. When Louis arrived, his master said "Find Mr. Langton rooms some where between this and St. James's Church. Let them be comfortable, but not extravagant. See that the cookery is good. And, if you know a fellow who would do as Mr. Langton's valet, tell me." "I know precisely the man," said Louis. "His name is Auguste Lancel. He is just seeking employment." "Very well. Let me see him to morrow. I can judge," he said to Stephen, "whether he is fit for anything; and if he is, you can see him." "I am sorry to give you so much trouble." "You don't give me any. It amuses me. I am delighted to be able to help anybody so thoroughly ignorant of the world as you are. "That's no great compliment," said Stephen. "Well, I'd willingly change places with you. You're about ten years younger than I am; you're goodlooking and clever, and tolerably well off; you've got the world before you, and are quite ignorant of both the bright and the dark side of it. You're an uncommonly lucky fellow. I should like to be in your position." "Meanwhile," said Stephen, “I shall be laughed at for my ignorance." "Why not? Those who laugh at you will be people who overestimate the value of their own knowledge. I think I know the world as well as most men, and I have long been of opinion that it is not worth knowing. Honestly," said Raphael, "I envy you." They passed to the drawingroom, where the Panther gave them coffee; gave them also music and song: have we not heretofore heard the passionate melody throb through that white throat of hers? I don't quite know how she felt that evening. For this supercilious boy her kirtle had fallen in vain; he had refused her, he had pitied her. Now, the love which caused him to refuse and pity her was wholly frustrate. Now, he might think otherwise. Now, also, the plot to which for her father's sake she had pledged herself was frustrate. True, if she married this boy, there would be money enough to live at ease; and he would be a docile husband. But as I am analyzing a lady's thoughts, I must here remark that there arose to disturb her calculations a vision of VOL. LXXI.-NO. CCCCXXI. a handsome baronet, superbly apparelled, magnificent in moustache. Strange to say, Sir Arthur Willesden had made an impression on Claudia. I really had hoped that my Panther was above womanish weaknesses-not so. You see, she wanted to be tamed, to be tyrannized over, to be lashed into obedience. The man to do this came not: she, with wistful eyes desiring a master, imagined strength of will and stern resolve in this Sir Arthur Willesden, simply because he was big and muscular and looked as if he could knock down an ox. 'Tis the way with womankind: if they cannot find the right man they endow some utterly wrong man with the requisite characteristics. Well, this night Claudia was affable to Stephen, and sang and played for him, and chatted pleasantly with him, and expressed a hope that he would not let Raphael lead him into mischief. Raphael's practical reply was the production of some remarkably fine cavendish. "By mischief, my sister means smoke," said Raphael; "but she doesn't object to it." She did not, as we know. 66 'Is that wonderful old grandfather of yours still flourishing?" asked Raphael. "I remember his bringing you to see us one morning at Kingsleat, heaven knows how many years ago. Claudia petted you, and I scolded her afterwards for falling in love with you." The Panther looked fierce. My grandfather is in very good condition," said Stephen, "though he is growing old, like the rest of us. I assure you, Mr. Branscombe, I have often great difficulty in assuring myself that I am the unfortunate little schoolboy whom your sister petted. Indeed I am sometimes doubtful as to the reality of even later events." "He's not such a fool as he looks," thought the Seraph. "He has not forgotten," thought the Panther. No: he was not a fool, this Stephen Langton; nor had he forgotten. He could not comprehend Raphael Branscombe's friendly interest in him and his affairs; but he knew there must be some reason for it, and he waited for time to reveal that reason. And he had not forgotten even the flavour of the peach which the beautiful 3 Claudia had given him, so many years ago-or the touch of her lips when he lay in bed at Kingsleat, and she and the bishop's wife curvetted like a couple of young fillies, unrestrained by his childish presence-still less that moment when she had thrown herself into his arms, and he had rejected her. Nothing did he forget; but he could not understand on what terms they were to meet in future! Were they enemies or friends, or coldly neutral ? He did not know. Did she? Stephen made a night of it. It was midnight when Raphael and he left the Panther to her own devices. They went away to the Chandos Club, where Raphael gave Stephen his first lesson in billiards, and introduced him to a very select circle of pleasant fellows, given to bad habits. It was exactly six when he reached the Chapter Coffee-house, and went to bed. It was two in the afternoon when he came down to breakfast the next day. Raphael did not resign his office as guardian and guide. In a very few days Stephen found himself comfortably established in rooms in Jermynstreet, with Auguste Lancel in attendance; and he very much enjoyed his new style of life. He seemed to take to it naturally. Dressed by the most fashionable tailors, Stephen Langton, if he had suddenly appeared in the High-street of Idlechester, would scarcely have been recognised by Jack Winslow or his aunt Harriet. The Panther was quite amazed at his development. And not the Panther only. Humphrey Morfill, having arranged all matters, of business satisfactorily, came from Wetheral to London with full intent to conquer the world. He had married Anne Page, as he intended; why should he not carry out his other intentions? True, he hadn't as much money with her as he expected; and for this he often, with a want of logic of which a Cambridge man should have been ashamed, blamed his unoffending little wife. But a couple of thousand a year was a good start, and Humphrey was resolved not to lose a single chance. His ambition was almost a mania. He came to town, and took a house in Mesopotamia, which Lady Morley christened Cubitopolis. He entered himself at the Middle Temple, and took to the study of law with avidity. He left his wife a good deal alone, of necessity. When Stephen knew of their being in town, he called at once, and his unfaithful sweetheart was astounded to see him so complete a man of fashion. The Panther also called, under Raphael's orders, and found Humphrey, who chanced to be at home, excessively glad to find anybody who would occasionally entertain his wife in his absence; and the result was that, all previous occurrences apparently forgotten, Mr. and Mrs. Morfill, and Mr. and Miss Branscombe, and Mr. Langton, associated very freely and pleasantly. Raphael, however, did not call on the Morfills for some time after their arrival in London. When he did, and it was over, as Claudia and he were walking homeward, the Scraph said "What a devilish pretty little thing she is! I wish I had seen her in time." Sweet Anne Morfill was at the same moment thinking that she had never seen so fascinating a man as Mr. Raphael Branscombe, but she did not mention this idea to her husband. CHAPTER XV. MR. AND MRS. MORFILL. HUMPHREY MORFILL and his wife, in Mesopotamia, were not perhaps as happy as they ought to have been. And the reason was tolerably clear. Humphrey, to begin with, had never loved the pretty little infantile creature whom he had married. Indeed it may fairly be stated that he had never loved anyone except himself. His sole object had been to obtain a wife with money, and in this he had succeeded. Sweet Anne Page, on the other hand, had lived all her life in a delicious dream of love; she was a child still, and did not know what love meant; but she assuredly expected a kind of chivalrous deference which Humphrey Mortill did not give her. In truth, he gave her something very different. He was her tyrant. He had already regretted the position in which he had placed himself. More than once had he considered it an inexcusable blunder to have sacrificed that fine intellect of his for a couple of thousand a year. The thing was done, but he could not help behaving to his bride as if he thought she ought to be ashamed of herself. Of course the poor child, who at any rate fancied she loved him, could not comprehend his horrible baseness. Still he managed to make her extremely unhappy. He treated her in a very childish fashion. The method of the marriage had made him master of the money, and he took the earliest possible opportunity of showing her that it was so. He soon taught her to consider herself dependent on him. Gladly would she have been dependent on any creature who showed her the love for which she craved eternally but this Humphrey would show her none. Indeed he had none to show. I do not blame this man. There are beings-I suppose I must say human beings who do not know the meaning of love-the utmost to which they can rise is affection. The passionate love wherewith a man (who is a man) can love a wife, or a sister, a son or a daughter, is to them unintelligible. So much the better for them perhaps; who knows? Never is there great love without great grief. I fancy Humphrey Morfill belonged to this class-to this pitiable or enviable class, I know not which. At any rate he was a man capable of being extremely affectionate, and quite incapable of loving. Ah me, that terrible incapacity! You who have loved, and have through your love been compelled to endure grief unutterable, torture such as would have maddened Prometheus, "The vulture at his vitals and the links men, if indeed there be any affectionate women-God help ye all! Why were ye not cows? ruminating animals? chewers of the cud? Little Anne would, I think, have been happy enough with even an affectionate husband if only her husband had not been tyrannical. But Humphrey was a tyrant of the coolest order. He wore no glove over the steel gauntlet. He was her master, and took every opportunity of letting her know it. So Anne was wretched enough; and you cannot be surprised if she was extremely glad to see anybody who was not her husband. Especially as her husband spent long matutine hours at the Temple, with an eye to the SolicitorGeneralship et cetera. So she welcomed Claudia, whom in her babyhood she had feared. She had learned that a petticoated tyrant with a ridingwhip is more endurable than the tyrannic husband whose frown is torture. As to the Panther, it must be confessed that her first visit to the Mesopotamian-terrace was not satisfactory. She felt that she had been rather such to her little friend. She thought the best way of dealing with the matter was to laugh it off altogether. She managed pretty well, but there was a little preliminary shyness. It is not everybody who has the coolness of the Eton boy who happened to dine with Keate on a long-standing invitation on the very day when that best of head masters had had to administer a flogging. "I have not seen you for a long time," said the Doctor. "Not this side of me, sir," responded his promising alumnus. But Anne, who had quite forgiven the Panther her trifling tyrannies was delighted to find anyone who would comfort her. Poor child, she wanted comfort. Naturally dull, the dreadful fact that Humphrey had married her merely as a matter of Of the lame Lemnian festering in his convenience had not yet occurred to flesh," her. Naturally obedient, she had not routine to which he had condemned thought of rebelling against the her. And here, I regret to say, Claudia was her accomplice-nay, her told her that, as the actual owner of prompter-in naughtiness. Claudia the property on which her penniless husband lived, she ought to have plenty of enjoyment. Thereby Claudia gave a considerable amount of trouble to Mr. Humphrey Morfill, who spent a great deal of his time in proving to his wife that it was necessary to avoid extravagance. A little pleasure, pleasantly given, would have satisfied her. She was not exorbitant in her demands. If he had loved her, he could have supplied what she needed with infinite ease. But love teaches lessons not to be learnt elsewhere. Stephen was too proud not to visit her. Between them there was no explanation. Indeed Stephen would not have listened to a word. He had made up his mind that love was a swindle, a sell. He had come to consider religion cant and morality a myth. It is a mental and moral disease, this, to which young men of any brain are subject, and which they take with special readiness if they happen to encounter a disappointment. They argue from the particular to the universal in delicious deference of Aldrich. My friend Stephen, having been jilted by a plump child of the most infantile character, came to the terribly tragical conclusion that all women were false. He had never known a woman. But, if ever he had been right in arguing, from sweet Anne Page to every creature that wears petticoats, would that have justified him in denying the inspiration of the New Testament? I am inclined to think not. Raphael Branscombe saw a good deal of Mrs. Morfill. As thus Humphrey spent his mornings at the Temple, Anne, weary of her loneliness, took refuge with her friend the Panther. The Seraph, discovering this, and having a constitutional tendency to amuse himself, was wont to lounge into his sister's apartments, and talk to Anne. Claudia, we know, had plenty of morning visitors, so Raphael had ample time to flirt with this innocent child. And he did it. And it looked very much as if she liked it. One evening, as he was smoking alone in his sanctum, Claudia made her way thither. It showed the Panther's daring. Raphael had strictly prohibited all invasion there. But Claudia, at about midnight, majestic in a rustling purple silk, entered the room in which the Seraph sat. It almost surprised him: I cannot say more. But he merely removed from his lips the amber mouthpiece of a hookah from which he had been drawing cool draughts of fragrant smoke, and said"Well ?" The Panther was not easily shut up. She settled herself tidily and gracefully in an easy chair, and said, very deliberately— I want to speak to you, Raphael." "Talk away, child,” he replied. "What is there between you and Anne Page?" she asked peremptorily. "A husband, my dear," he said. At least, if by Anne Page you mean your nice little friend, Mrs. Morfill." 66 Raphael," she said, with eager earnestness, "I implore you to leave them alone. Poor little Anne! She has married a man who does not love her, and she has not learnt the meaning of love herself. Don't be cruel to them, Raphael. I know how dangerous you are. They have done you no harm ?" The Seraph rose from his seat, dropping the mouthpiece of his hookah, and stood with his back to the fire. He seemed to deliberate for a minute or two. Then he spoke. "Claudia, I thought better of you. They have done me no harm! They have simply deprived me of a pleasant and ample income which I could have commanded. If I had seen Anne Page ten minutes before she ran away with this young fellow, do you think she would have gone? She's a mere child: a man need not be proud of winning her she would have said yes to any man." : "Then why be vexed about it?” said the Panther. "She is not fit to be your wife. And there are plenty of girls with twice the money who would be glad to marry you. Why not leave her alone?" 66 Are you a Branscombe, Claudia ?" asked Raphael. "What, do you think I care for the silly child and her two thousand a year! Not but what, pretty as she is, I might have married her had I seen her in time-but I care no more about it than I care what I shall have for dinner to-morrow." 66 66 Then," said Claudia, after a pause, why do you waste so much time upon her? Why do you make her like you?" |