And as for him--I can't help feeling I might have got influence over him.""I am ignorant of these matters," said Philip; "but I should have thought that would have increased the difficulty of the situation."The crisp remark was wasted on her.She looked hopelessly at the raw over-built country, and said, "Well, I have explained.""But pardon me, Miss Abbott; of most of your conduct you have given a description rather than an explanation."He had fairly caught her, and expected that she would gape and collapse.To his surprise she answered with some spirit, "An explanation may bore you, Mr.Herriton: it drags in other topics.""Oh, never mind."
"I hated Sawston, you see."
He was delighted."So did and do I.That's splendid.Go on.""I hated the idleness, the stupidity, the respectability, the petty unselfishness.""Petty selfishness," he corrected.Sawston psychology had long been his specialty.
"Petty unselfishness," she repeated."I had got an idea that every one here spent their lives in making little sacrifices for objects they didn't care for, to please people they didn't love; that they never learnt to be sincere--and, what's as bad, never learnt how to enjoy themselves.That's what I thought--what I thought at Monteriano.""Why, Miss Abbott," he cried, "you should have told me this before! Think it still! I agree with lots of it.
Magnificent!"
"Now Lilia," she went on, "though there were things about her I didn't like, had somehow kept the power of enjoying herself with sincerity.And Gino, I thought, was splendid, and young, and strong not only in body, and sincere as the day.If they wanted to marry, why shouldn't they do so? Why shouldn't she break with the deadening life where she had got into a groove, and would go on in it, getting more and more--worse than unhappy--apathetic till she died?
Of course I was wrong.She only changed one groove for another--a worse groove.And as for him--well, you know more about him than I do.I can never trust myself to judge characters again.But I still feel he cannot have been quite bad when we first met him.
Lilia--that I should dare to say it! --must have been cowardly.He was only a boy--just going to turn into something fine, I thought--and she must have mismanaged him.So that is the one time I have gone against what is proper, and there are the results.You have an explanation now.""And much of it has been most interesting, though I don't understand everything.Did you never think of the disparity of their social position?""We were mad--drunk with rebellion.We had no common-sense.As soon as you came, you saw and foresaw everything.""Oh, I don't think that." He was vaguely displeased at being credited with common-sense.For a moment Miss Abbott had seemed to him more unconventional than himself.
"I hope you see," she concluded, "why I have troubled you with this long story.Women--I heard you say the other day--are never at ease till they tell their faults out loud.Lilia is dead and her husband gone to the bad--all through me.You see, Mr.Herriton, it makes me specially unhappy; it's the only time I've ever gone into what my father calls 'real life'--and look what I've made of it! All that winter I seemed to be waking up to beauty and splendour and I don't know what; and when the spring came, I wanted to fight against the things Ihated--mediocrity and dulness and spitefulness and society.I actually hated society for a day or two at Monteriano.I didn't see that all these things are invincible, and that if we go against them they will break us to pieces.Thank you for listening to so much nonsense.""Oh, I quite sympathize with what you say," said Philip encouragingly; "it isn't nonsense, and a year or two ago I should have been saying it too.But I feel differently now, and I hope that you also will change.Society is invincible--to a certain degree.
But your real life is your own, and nothing can touch it.There is no power on earth that can prevent your criticizing and despising mediocrity--nothing that can stop you retreating into splendour and beauty--into the thoughts and beliefs that make the real life--the real you.""I have never had that experience yet.Surely I and my life must be where I live."Evidently she had the usual feminine incapacity for grasping philosophy.But she had developed quite a personality, and he must see more of her."There is another great consolation against invincible mediocrity," he said--"the meeting a fellow-victim.
I hope that this is only the first of many discussions that we shall have together."She made a suitable reply.The train reached Charing Cross, and they parted,--he to go to a matinée, she to buy petticoats for the corpulent poor.Her thoughts wandered as she bought them: the gulf between herself and Mr.Herriton, which she had always known to be great, now seemed to her immeasurable.
These events and conversations took place at Christmas-time.
The New Life initiated by them lasted some seven months.Then a little incident--a mere little vexatious incident--brought it to its close.
Irma collected picture post-cards, and Mrs.Herriton or Harriet always glanced first at all that came, lest the child should get hold of something vulgar.On this occasion the subject seemed perfectly inoffensive--a lot of ruined factory chimneys--and Harriet was about to hand it to her niece when her eye was caught by the words on the margin.She gave a shriek and flung the card into the grate.
Of course no fire was alight in July, and Irma only had to run and pick it out again.
"How dare you!" screamed her aunt."You wicked girl! Give it here!"Unfortunately Mrs.Herriton was out of the room.
