the lesson of the master-第2章

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being　grossly　proud；　but　even　morbid　modesty　might　view　the

authorship　of　〃Ginistrella〃　as　constituting　a　degree　of　identity。

His　soldierly　friend　became　clear　enough：　　he　was　〃Fancourt；〃　but

was　also　〃the　General〃；　and　he　mentioned　to　the　new　visitor　in　the

course　of　a　few　moments　that　he　had　but　lately　returned　from　twenty

years　service　abroad。



〃And　now　you　remain　in　England？〃　the　young　man　asked。



〃Oh　yes；　I've　bought　a　small　house　in　London。〃



〃And　I　hope　you　like　it；〃　said　Overt；　looking　at　Mrs。　St。　George。



〃Well；　a　little　house　in　Manchester　Square　…　there's　a　limit　to　the

enthusiasm　THAT　inspires。〃



〃Oh　I　meant　being　at　home　again　…　being　back　in　Piccadilly。〃



〃My　daughter　likes　Piccadilly　…　that's　the　main　thing。　　She's　very

fond　of　art　and　music　and　literature　and　all　that　kind　of　thing。

She　missed　it　in　India　and　she　finds　it　in　London；　or　she　hopes

she'll　find　it。　　Mr。　St。　George　has　promised　to　help　her　…　he　has

been　awfully　kind　to　her。　　She　has　gone　to　church　…　she's　fond　of

that　too　…　but　they'll　all　be　back　in　a　quarter　of　an　hour。　　You

must　let　me　introduce　you　to　her　…　she'll　be　so　glad　to　know　you。

I　dare　say　she　has　read　every　blest　word　you've　written。〃



〃I　shall　be　delighted　…　I　haven't　written　so　very　many；〃　Overt

pleaded；　feeling；　and　without　resentment；　that　the　General　at　least

was　vagueness　itself　about　that。　　But　he　wondered　a　little　why；

expressing　this　friendly　disposition；　it　didn't　occur　to　the

doubtless　eminent　soldier　to　pronounce　the　word　that　would　put　him

in　relation　with　Mrs。　St。　George。　　If　it　was　a　question　of

introductions　Miss　Fancourt　…　apparently　as　yet　unmarried　…　was　far

away；　while　the　wife　of　his　illustrious　confrere　was　almost　between

them。　　This　lady　struck　Paul　Overt　as　altogether　pretty；　with　a

surprising　juvenility　and　a　high　smartness　of　aspect；　something

that　…　he　could　scarcely　have　said　why　…　served　for　mystification。

St。　George　certainly　had　every　right　to　a　charming　wife；　but　he

himself　would　never　have　imagined　the　important　little　woman　in　the

aggressively　Parisian　dress　the　partner　for　life；　the　alter　ego；　of

a　man　of　letters。　　That　partner　in　general；　he　knew；　that　second

self；　was　far　from　presenting　herself　in　a　single　type：

observation　had　taught　him　that　she　was　not　inveterately；　not

necessarily　plain。　　But　he　had　never　before　seen　her　look　so　much

as　if　her　prosperity　had　deeper　foundations　than　an　ink…spotted

study…table　littered　with　proof…sheets。　　Mrs。　St。　George　might　have

been　the　wife　of　a　gentleman　who　〃kept〃　books　rather　than　wrote

them；　who　carried　on　great　affairs　in　the　City　and　made　better

bargains　than　those　that　poets　mostly　make　with　publishers。　　With

this　she　hinted　at　a　success　more　personal　…　a　success　peculiarly

stamping　the　age　in　which　society；　the　world　of　conversation；　is　a

great　drawing…room　with　the　City　for　its　antechamber。　　Overt

numbered　her　years　at　first　as　some　thirty；　and　then　ended　by

believing　that　she　might　approach　her　fiftieth。　　But　she　somehow　in

this　case　juggled　away　the　excess　and　the　difference　…　you　only　saw

them　in　a　rare　glimpse；　like　the　rabbit　in　the　conjurer's　sleeve。

She　was　extraordinarily　white；　and　her　every　element　and　item　was

pretty；　her　eyes；　her　ears；　her　hair；　her　voice；　her　hands；　her

feet　…　to　which　her　relaxed　attitude　in　her　wicker　chair　gave　a

great　publicity　…　and　the　numerous　ribbons　and　trinkets　with　which

she　was　bedecked。　　She　looked　as　if　she　had　put　on　her　best　clothes

to　go　to　church　and　then　had　decided　they　were　too　good　for　that

and　had　stayed　at　home。　　She　told　a　story　of　some　length　about　the

shabby　way　Lady　Jane　had　treated　the　Duchess；　as　well　as　an

anecdote　in　relation　to　a　purchase　she　had　made　in　Paris　…　on　her

way　back　from　Cannes；　made　for　Lady　Egbert；　who　had　never　refunded

the　money。　　Paul　Overt　suspected　her　of　a　tendency　to　figure　great

people　as　larger　than　life；　until　he　noticed　the　manner　in　which

she　handled　Lady　Egbert；　which　was　so　sharply　mutinous　that　it

reassured　him。　　He　felt　he　should　have　understood　her　better　if　he

might　have　met　her　eye；　but　she　scarcely　so　much　as　glanced　at　him。

〃Ah　here　they　come　…　all　the　good　ones！〃　she　said　at　last；　and　Paul

Overt　admired　at　his　distance　the　return　of　the　church…goers　…

several　persons；　in　couples　and　threes；　advancing　in　a　flicker　of

sun　and　shade　at　the　end　of　a　large　green　vista　formed　by　the　level

grass　and　the　overarching　boughs。



〃If　you　mean　to　imply　that　WE'RE　bad；　I　protest；〃　said　one　of　the

gentlemen　…　〃after　making　one's　self　agreeable　all　the　morning！〃



〃Ah　if　they've　found　you　agreeable　…　！〃　Mrs。　St。　George　gaily

cried。　　〃But　if　we're　good　the　others　are　better。〃



〃They　must　be　angels　then；〃　said　the　amused　General。



〃Your　husband　was　an　angel；　the　way　he　went　off　at　your　bidding；〃

the　gentleman　who　had　first　spoken　declared　to　Mrs。　St。　George。



〃At　my　bidding？〃



〃Didn't　you　make　him　go　to　church？〃



〃I　never　made　him　do　anything　in　my　life　but　once　…　when　I　made　him

burn　up　a　bad　book。　　That's　all！〃　　At　her　〃That's　all！〃　our　young

friend　broke　into　an　irrepressible　laugh；　it　lasted　only　a　second；

but　it　drew　her　eyes　to　him。　　His　own　met　them；　though　not　long

enough　to　help　him　to　understand　her；　unless　it　were　a　step　towards

this　that　he　saw　on　the　instant　how　the　burnt　book　…　　the　way　she

alluded　to　it！　…　would　have　been　one　of　her　husband's　finest

things。



〃A　bad　book？〃　her　interlocutor　repeated。



〃I　didn't　like　it。　　He　went　to　church　because　your　daughter　went；〃

she　continued　to　General　Fancourt。　　〃I　think　it　my　duty　to　call

your　attention　to　his　extraordinary　demonstrations　to　your

daughter。〃



〃Well；　if　you　don't　mind　them　I　don't；〃　the　General　laughed。



〃Il　s'attache　e　ses　pas。　　But　I　don't　wonder　…　she's　so　charming。〃



〃I　hope　she　won't　make　him　burn　any　books！〃　Paul　Overt　ventured　to

exclaim。



〃If　she'd　make　him　write　a　few　it　would　be　more　to　the　purpose；〃

said　Mrs。　St。　George。　　〃He　has　been　of　a　laziness　of　late　…　！〃



Our　young　man　stared　…　he　was　so　struck　with　the　lady's

phraseology。　　Her　〃Write　a　few〃　seemed　to　him　almost　as　good　as　her

〃That's　all。〃　　Didn't　she；　as　the　wife　of　a　rare　artist；　know　what

it　was　to　produce　one　perfect　work　of　art？　　How　in　the　world　did

she　think　they　were　turned　on？　　His　private　conviction　was　that；

admirably　as　Henry　St。　George　wrote；　he　had　written　for　the　last

ten　years；　and　especially　for　the　last　five；　only　too　much；　and

there　was　an　instant　during　which　he　felt　inwardly　solicited　to

make　this　public。　　But　before　he　had　spoken　a　diversion　was

effected　by　the　return　of　the　absentees。　　They　strolled　up

dispersedly　…　there　were　eight　or　ten　of　them　…　and　the　circle

under　the　trees　rearranged　itself　as　they　took　their　place　in　it。

They　made　it　much　larger；　so　that　Paul　Overt　could　feel　…　he　was

always　feeling　that　sort　of　thing；　as　he　said　to　himself　…　that　if

the　company　had　already　been　interesting　to　watch　the　interest

would　now　become　intense。　　He　shook　hands　with　his　hostess；　who

welcomed　him　without　many　words；　in　the　manner　of　a　woman　able　to

trust　him　to　understand　and　conscious　that　so　pleasant　an　occasion

would　in　every　way　speak　for　itself。　　She　offered　him　no　particular

facility　for　sitting　by　her；　and　when　they　had　all　subsided　again

he　found　himself　still　next　General　Fancourt；　with　an　unknown　lady

on　his　other　flank。



〃That's　my　daughter　…　that　one　opposite；〃　the　General　said　to　him

without　lose　of　time。　　Overt　saw　a　tall　girl；　with　magnificent　red

hair；　in　a　dress　of　a　pretty　grey…green　tint　and　of　a　limp　silken

texture；　a　garment　that　clearly　shirked　every　modern　effect。　　It

had　therefore　somehow　the　stamp　of　the　latest　thing；　so　that　our

beholder　quickly　took　her　for　nothing　if　not　contemporaneous。



〃She's　very　handsome　…　very　handsome；〃　he　repeated　while　he

considered　her。　　There　was　something　noble　in　her　he