fraternity-第22章

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The　droning　ceased。　　Hilary　saw　that　Mr。　Stone　was　staring　fixedly　at　his　sheet　of　paper；　as　though　the　merits　of　this　last　sentence　were　surprising　him。　　The　droning　instantly　began　again：　〃'In　social　effort；　as　in　the　physical　processes　of　Nature；　there　had　ever　been　a　single　fertilising　agentthe　mysterious　and　wonderful　attraction　known　as　Love。　　To　thisthat　merging　of　one　being　in　anotherhad　been　due　all　the　progressive　variance　of　form；　known　by　man　under　the　name　of　Life。　　It　was　this　merger；　this　mysterious；　unconscious　Love；　which　was　lacking　to　the　windy　efforts　of　those　who　tried　to　sail　that　fleet。　　They　were　full　of　reason；　conscience；　horror；　full　of　impatience；　contempt；　revolt；　but　they　did　not　love　the　masses　of　their　fellow…men。　　They　could　not　fling　themselves　into　the　sea。　Their　hearts　were　glowing；　but　the　wind　which　made　them　glow　was　not　the　salt　and　universal　zephyr：　it　was　the　desert　wind　of　scorn。　　As　with　the　flowering　of　the　aloe…treeso　long　awaited；　so　strange　and　swift　when　once　it　comesman　had　yet　to　wait　for　his　delirious　impulse　to　Universal　Brotherhood；　and　the　forgetfulness　of　Self。'〃

Mr。　Stone　had　finished；　and　stood　gazing　at　his　visitor　with　eyes　that　clearly　saw　beyond　him。　　Hilary　could　not　meet　those　eyes；　he　kept　his　own　fixed　on　the　empty　cocoa　cup。　　It　was　not；　in　fact；　usual　for　those　who　heard　Mr。　Stone　read　his　manuscript　to　look　him　in　the　face。　　He　stood　thus　absorbed　so　long　that　Hilary　rose　at　last；　and　glanced　into　the　saucepan。　　There　was　no　cocoa　in　it。　　Mr。　Stone　had　only　made　enough　for　one。　　He　had　meant　it　for　his　visitor；　but　self…forgetfulness　had　supervened。

〃You　know　what　happens　to　the　aloe；　sir；　when　it　has　flowered？〃　asked　Hilary　with　malice。

Mr。　Stone　moved；　but　did　not　answer。

〃It　dies；〃　said　Hilary。

〃No；〃　said　Mr。　Stone；　〃it　is　at　peace。〃

〃When　is　self　at　peace；　sir？　　The　individual　is　surely　as　immortal　as　the　universal。　　That　is　the　eternal　comedy　of　life。〃

〃What　is？〃　　said　Mr。　Stone。

〃The　fight　or　game　between　the　two。〃

Mr。　Stone　stood　a　moment　looking　wistfully　at　his　son…in…law。　　He　laid　down　the　sheet　of　manuscript。　　〃It　is　time　for　me　to　do　my　exercises。〃　　So　saying；　he　undid　the　tasselled　cord　tied　round　the　middle　of　his　gown。

Hilary　hastened　to　the　door。　　From　that　point　of　vantage　he　looked　back。

Divested　of　his　gown　and　turned　towards　the　window；　Mr。　Stone　was　already　rising　on　his　toes；　his　arms　were　extended；　his　palms　pressed　hard　together　in　the　attitude　of　prayer；　his　trousers　slowly　slipping　down。

〃One；　two；　three；　four；　five！〃　　There　was　a　sudden　sound　of　breath　escaping。。。。

In　the　corridor　upstairs；　flooded　with　moonlight　from　a　window　at　the　end；　Hilary　stood　listening　again。　　The　only　sound　that　came　to　him　was　the　light　snoring　of　Miranda；　who　slept　in　the　bathroom；　not　caring　to　lie　too　near　to　anyone。　　He　went　to　his　room；　and　for　a　long　time　sat　buried　in　thought；　then；　opening　the　side　window；　he　leaned　out。　　On　the　trees　of　the　next　garden；　and　the　sloping　roofs　of　stables　and　outhouses；　the　moonlight　had　come　down　like　a　flight　of　milk…white　pigeons；　with　outspread　wings；　vibrating　faintly　as　though　yet　in　motion；　they　covered　everything。　　Nothing　stirred。　　A　clock　was　striking　two。　　Past　that　flight　of　milk…white　pigeons　were　black　walls　as　yet　unvisited。　　Then；　in　the　stillness；　Hilary　seemed　to　hear；　deep　and　very　faint；　the　sound　as　of　some　monster　breathing；　or　the　far　beating　of　muffed　drums。　　From　every　side　of　the　pale　sleeping　town　it　seemed　to　come；　under　the　moon's　cold　glamour。　　It　rose；　and　fell；　and　rose；　with　a　weird；　creepy　rhythm；　like　a　groaning　of　the　hopeless　and　hungry。　　A　hansom　cab　rattled　down　the　High　Street；　Hilary　strained　his　ears　after　the　failing　clatter　of　hoofs　and　bell。　　They　died；　there　was　silence。　　Creeping　nearer；　drumming；　throbbing；　he　heard　again　the　beating　of　that　vast　heart。　It　grew　and　grew。　　His　own　heart　began　thumping。　　Then；　emerging　from　that　sinister　dumb　groan；　he　distinguished　a　crunching　sound；　and　knew　that　it　was　no　muttering　echo　of　men's　struggles；　but　only　the　waggons　journeying　to　Covent　Garden　Market。




CHAPTER　XIV

A　WALK　ABROAD

Thyme　Dallison；　in　the　midst　of　her　busy　life；　found　leisure　to　record　her　recollections　and　ideas　in　the　pages　of　old　school　notebooks。　　She　had　no　definite　purpose　in　so　doing；　nor　did　she　desire　the　solace　of　luxuriating　in　her　private　feelingsthis　she　would　have　scorned　as　out　of　date　and　silly。　　It　was　done　from　the　fulness　of　youthful　energy；　and　from　the　desire　to　express　oneself　that　was　〃in　the　air。〃　　It　was　everywhere；　that　desire：　among　her　fellow…students；　among　her　young　men　friends；　in　her　mother's　drawing…room；　and　her　aunt's　studio。　　Like　sentiment　and　marriage　to　the　Victorian　miss；　so　was　this　duty　to　express　herself　to　Thyme；　and；　going　hand…in…hand　with　it；　the　duty　to　have　a　good　and　jolly　youth。　　She　never　read　again　the　thoughts　which　she　recorded；　she　took　no　care　to　lock　them　up；　knowing　that　her　liberty；　development；　and　pleasure　were　sacred　things　which　no　one　would　dream　of　touching　she　kept　them　stuffed　down　in　a　drawer　among　her　handkerchiefs　and　ties　and　blouses；　together　with　the　indelible　fragment　of　a　pencil。

This　journal；　naive　and　slipshod；　recorded　without　order　the　current　impression　of　things　on　her　mind。

In　the　early　morning　of　the　4th　of　May　she　sat；　night…gowned；　on　the　foot　of　her　white　bed；　with　chestnut　hair　all　fluffy　about　her　neck；　eyes　bright　and　cheeks　still　rosy　with　sleep；　scribbling　away　and　rubbing　one　bare　foot　against　the　other　in　the　ecstasy　of　self…　expression。　　Now　and　then；　in　the　middle　of　a　sentence；　she　would　stop　and　look　out　of　the　window；　or　stretch　herself　deliciously；　as　though　life　were　too　full　of　joy　for　her　to　finish　anything。

〃I　went　into　grandfather's　room　yesterday；　and　stayed　while　he　was　dictating　to　the　little　model。　　I　do　think　grandfather's　so　splendid。　Martin　says　an　enthusiast　is　worse　than　useless；　people；　he　says；　can't　afford　to　dabble　in　ideas　or　dreams。　　He　calls　grandfather's　idea　paleolithic。　　I　hate　him　to　be　laughed　at。　　Martin's　so　cocksure。　　I　don't　think　he'd　find　many　men　of　eighty　who'd　bathe　in　the　Serpentine　all　the　year　round；　and　do　his　own　room；　cook　his　own　food；　and　live　on　about　ninety　pounds　a　year　out　of　his　pension　of　three　hundred；　and　give　all　the　rest　away。　　Martin　says　that's　unsound；　and　the　'Book　of　Universal　Brotherhood'　rot。　　I　don't　care　if　it　is；　it's　fine　to　go　on　writing　it　as　he　does　all　day。　　Martin　admits　that。　　That's　the　worst　of　him：　he's　so　cool；　you　can't　score　him　off；　he　seems　to　be　always　criticising　you；　it　makes　me　wild。。。。　That　little　model　is　a　hopeless　duffer。　　I　could　have　taken　it　all　down　in　half　the　time。　　She　kept　stopping　and　looking　up　with　that　mouth　of　hers　half　open；　as　if　she　had　all　day　before　her。　Grandfather's　so　absorbed　he　doesn't　notice；　he　likes　to　read　the　thing　over　and　over；　to　hear　how　the　words　sound。　　That　girl　would　be　no　good　at　any　sort　of　work；　except　'sitting；'　I　suppose。　　Aunt　B。　used　to　say　she　sat　well。　　There's　something　queer　about　her　face；　it　reminds　me　a　little　of　that　Botticelli　Madonna　in　the　National　Gallery；　the　full…face　one；　not　so　much　in　the　shape　as　in　the　expressionalmost　stupid；　and　yet　as　if　things　were　going　to　happen　to　her。　　Her　hands　and　arms　are　pretty；　and　her　feet　are　smaller　than　mine。　　She's　two　years　older　than　me。　　I　asked　her　why　she　went　in　for　being　a　model；　which　is　beastly　work。　　She　said　she　was　glad　to　get　anything！　　I　asked　her　why　she　didn't　go　into　a　shop　or　into　service。　　She　didn't　answer　at　once；　and　then　said　she　hadn't　had　any　recommendationsdidn't　know　where　to　try；　then；　all　of　a　sudden；　she　grew　quite　sulky；　and　said　she　didn't　want　to。。。。〃

Thyme　paused　to　pencil　in　a　sketch　of　the　little　model's　profile。。。。

〃She　had　on　a　really　pretty　frock；　quite　simple　and　well　madeit　must　have　cost　three　or　four　pounds。　　She　can't　be　so　very　badly　off；　or　somebody　gave　it　her。。。。〃

And　again　Thyme　paused。

〃She　looked　ever　so　much　prettier　in　it　than　she　used　to　in　her　old　brown　skirt；　I　thought　。。。。　　Uncle　Hilary　came　to　dinner　last　night。　We　talked　of　social　questions；　we　always　discuss