the lesson of the master-第17章

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his　steps　he　stood　higher）　which　led　him　to　interrupt　himself；　and

the　interruption　gave　him　a　momentary　sense　of　awkwardness；　from

which　he　sought　a　quick　issue。　　〃Perhaps　then　you　haven't　heard

she's　to　be　married。〃



Paul　gaped　again。　　〃To　be　married？〃



〃To　Mr。　St。　George　…　it　has　just　been　settled。　　Odd　marriage；　isn't

it？〃　　Our　listener　uttered　no　opinion　on　this　point：　　he　only

continued　to　stare。　　〃But　I　dare　say　it　will　do　…　she's　so　awfully

literary！〃　said　the　General。



Paul　had　turned　very　red。　　〃Oh　it's　a　surprise　…　very　interesting；

very　charming！　　I'm　afraid　I　can't　dine　…　so　many　thanks！〃



〃Well；　you　must　come　to　the　wedding！〃　cried　the　General。　　〃Oh　I

remember　that　day　at　Summersoft。　　He's　a　great　man；　you　know。〃



〃Charming　…　charming！〃　Paul　stammered　for　retreat。　　He　shook　hands

with　the　General　and　got　off。　　His　face　was　red　and　he　had　the

sense　of　its　growing　more　and　more　crimson。　　All　the　evening　at

home　…　he　went　straight　to　his　rooms　and　remained　there　dinnerless

…　his　cheek　burned　at　intervals　as　if　it　had　been　smitten。　　He

didn't　understand　what　had　happened　to　him；　what　trick　had　been

played　him；　what　treachery　practised。　　〃None；　none；〃　he　said　to

himself。　　〃I've　nothing　to　do　with　it。　　I'm　out　of　it　…　it　s　none

of　my　business。〃　　But　that　bewildered　murmur　was　followed　again　and

again　by　the　incongruous　ejaculation：　　〃Was　it　a　plan　…　was　it　a

plan？〃　　Sometimes　he　cried　to　himself；　breathless；　〃Have　I　been

duped；　sold；　swindled？〃　　If　at　all；　he　was　an　absurd；　an　abject

victim。　　It　was　as　if　he　hadn't　lost　her　till　now。　　He　had

renounced　her；　yes；　but　that　was　another　affair　…　that　was　a　closed

but　not　a　locked　door。　　Now　he　seemed　to　see　the　door　quite　slammed

in　his　face。　　Did　he　expect　her　to　wait　…　was　she　to　give　him　his

time　like　that：　　two　years　at　a　stretch？　　He　didn't　know　what　he

had　expected　…　he　only　knew　what　he　hadn't。　　It　wasn't　this　…　it

wasn't　this。　　Mystification　bitterness　and　wrath　rose　and　boiled　in

him　when　he　thought　of　the　deference；　the　devotion；　the　credulity

with　which　he　had　listened　to　St。　George。　　The　evening　wore　on　and

the　light　was　long；　but　even　when　it　had　darkened　he　remained

without　a　lamp。　　He　had　flung　himself　on　the　sofa；　where　he　lay

through　the　hours　with　his　eyes　either　closed　or　gazing　at　the

gloom；　in　the　attitude　of　a　man　teaching　himself　to　bear　something；

to　bear　having　been　made　a　fool　of。　　He　had　made　it　too　easy　…　that

idea　passed　over　him　like　a　hot　wave。　　Suddenly；　as　he　heard　eleven

o'clock　strike；　he　jumped　up；　remembering　what　General　Fancourt　had

said　about　his　coming　after　dinner。　　He'd　go　…　he'd　see　her　at

least；　perhaps　he　should　see　what　it　meant。　　He　felt　as　if　some　of

the　elements　of　a　hard　sum　had　been　given　him　and　the　others　were

wanting：　　he　couldn't　do　his　sum　till　he　had　got　all　his　figures。



He　dressed　and　drove　quickly；　so　that　by　half…past　eleven　he　was　at

Manchester　Square。　　There　were　a　good　many　carriages　at　the　door　…

a　party　was　going　on；　a　circumstance　which　at　the　last　gave　him　a

slight　relief；　for　now　he　would　rather　see　her　in　a　crowd。　　People

passed　him　on　the　staircase；　they　were　going　away；　going　〃on〃　with

the　hunted　herdlike　movement　of　London　society　at　night。　　But

sundry　groups　remained　in　the　drawing…room；　and　it　was　some

minutes；　as　she　didn't　hear　him　announced；　before　he　discovered　and

spoke　to　her。　　In　this　short　interval　he　had　seen　St。　George

talking　to　a　lady　before　the　fireplace；　but　he　at　once　looked　away；

feeling　unready　for　an　encounter；　and　therefore　couldn't　be　sure

the　author　of　〃Shadowmere〃　noticed　him。　　At　all　events　he　didn't

come　over　though　Miss　Fancourt　did　as　soon　as　she　saw　him　…　she

almost　rushed　at　him；　smiling　rustling　radiant　beautiful。　　He　had

forgotten　what　her　head；　what　her　face　offered　to　the　sight；　she

was　in　white；　there　were　gold　figures　on　her　dress　and　her　hair　was

a　casque　of　gold。　　He　saw　in　a　single　moment　that　she　was　happy；

happy　with　an　aggressive　splendour。　　But　she　wouldn't　speak　to　him

of　that；　she　would　speak　only　of　himself。



〃I'm　so　delighted；　my　father　told　me。　　How　kind　of　you　to　come！〃

She　struck　him　as　so　fresh　and　brave；　while　his　eyes　moved　over

her；　that　he　said　to　himself　irresistibly：　　〃Why　to　him；　why　not　to

youth；　to　strength；　to　ambition；　to　a　future？　　Why；　in　her　rich

young　force；　to　failure；　to　abdication　to　superannuation？〃　　In　his

thought　at　that　sharp　moment　he　blasphemed　even　against　all　that

had　been　left　of　his　faith　in　the　peccable　Master。　　〃I'm　so　sorry　I

missed　you；〃　she　went　on。　　〃My　father　told　me。　　How　charming　of　you

to　have　come　so　soon！〃



〃Does　that　surprise　you？〃　Paul　Overt　asked。



〃The　first　day？　　No；　from　you　…　nothing　that's　nice。〃　　She　was

interrupted　by　a　lady　who　bade　her　good…night；　and　he　seemed　to

read　that　it　cost　her　nothing　to　speak　to　him　in　that　tone；　it　was

her　old　liberal　lavish　way；　with　a　certain　added　amplitude　that

time　had　brought；　and　if　this　manner　began　to　operate　on　the　spot；

at　such　a　juncture　in　her　history；　perhaps　in　the　other　days　too　it

had　meant　just　as　little　or　as　much　…　a　mere　mechanical　charity；

with　the　difference　now　that　she　was　satisfied；　ready　to　give　but

in　want　of　nothing。　　Oh　she　was　satisfied　…　and　why　shouldn't　she

be？　　Why　shouldn't　she　have　been　surprised　at　his　coming　the　first

day　…　for　all　the　good　she　had　ever　got　from　him？　　As　the　lady

continued　to　hold　her　attention　Paul　turned　from　her　with　a　strange

irritation　in　his　complicated　artistic　soul　and　a　sort　of

disinterested　disappointment。　　She　was　so　happy　that　it　was　almost

stupid　…　a　disproof　of　the　extraordinary　intelligence　he　had

formerly　found　in　her。　　Didn't　she　know　how　bad　St。　George　could

be；　hadn't　she　recognised　the　awful　thinness　…？　　If　she　didn't　she

was　nothing；　and　if　she　did　why　such　an　insolence　of　serenity？

This　question　expired　as　our　young　man's　eyes　settled　at　last　on

the　genius　who　had　advised　him　in　a　great　crisis。　　St。　George　was

still　before　the　chimney…piece；　but　now　he　was　alone　…　fixed；

waiting；　as　if　he　meant　to　stop　after　every　one　…　and　he　met　the

clouded　gaze　of　the　young　friend　so　troubled　as　to　the　degree　of

his　right　（the　right　his　resentment　would　have　enjoyed）　to　regard

himself　as　a　victim。　　Somehow　the　ravage　of　the　question　was

checked　by　the　Master's　radiance。　　It　was　as　fine　in　its　way　as

Marian　Fancourt's；　it　denoted　the　happy　human　being；　but　also　it

represented　to　Paul　Overt　that　the　author　of　〃Shadowmere〃　had　now

definitely　ceased　to　count　…　ceased　to　count　as　a　writer。　　As　he

smiled　a　welcome　across　the　place　he　was　almost　banal；　was　almost

smug。　　Paul　fancied　that　for　a　moment　he　hesitated　to　make　a

movement；　as　if　for　all　the　world　he　HAD　his　bad　conscience；　then

they　had　already　met　in　the　middle　of　the　room　and　had　shaken　hands

…　expressively；　cordially　on　St。　George's　part。　　With　which　they

had　passed　back　together　to　where　the　elder　man　had　been　standing；

while　St。　George　said：　　〃I　hope　you're　never　going　away　again。

I've　been　dining　here；　the　General　told　me。〃　　He　was　handsome；　he

was　young；　he　looked　as　if　he　had　still　a　great　fund　of　life。　　He

bent　the　friendliest；　most　unconfessing　eyes　on　his　disciple　of　a

couple　of　years　before；　asked　him　about　everything；　his　health；　his

plans；　his　late　occupations；　the　new　book。　　〃When　will　it　be　out　…

soon；　soon；　I　hope？　　Splendid；　eh？　　That's　right；　you're　a　comfort；

you're　a　luxury！　　I've　read　you　all　over　again　these　last　six

months。〃　　Paul　waited　to　see　if　he　would　tell　him　what　the　General

had　told　him　in　the　afternoon　and　what　Miss　Fancourt；　verbally　at

least；　of　course　hadn't。　　But　as　it　didn't　come　out　he　at　last　put

the　question。



〃Is　it　true；　the　great　news　I　hear　…　that　you're　to　be　married？〃



〃Ah　you　have　heard　it　then？〃



〃Didn't　the　General　tell　you？〃　Paul　asked。



The　Master's　face　was　wonderful。　　〃Tell　me　what？〃



〃That　he　mention