the new machiavelli-第57章

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afterwards　I　came　to　understand　the　quality　of　her　nerve　betterand　


on　the　third　occasion　she　was　for　her　own　private　satisfaction　

climbing　a　tree。　　On　the　intervening　occasion　we　had　what　seems　now　

to　have　been　a　long　sustained　conversation　about　the　political　

situation　and　the　books　and　papers　I　had　written。



I　wonder　if　it　was。



What　a　delightful　mixture　of　child　and　grave　woman　she　was　at　that　

time；　and　how　little　I　reckoned　on　the　part　she　would　play　in　my　

life！　　And　since　she　has　played　that　part；　how　impossible　it　is　to　

tell　now　of　those　early　days！　　Since　I　wrote　that　opening　paragraph　

to　this　section　my　idle　pen　has　been；　as　it　were；　playing　by　itself　

and　sketching　faces　on　the　blotting　padone　impish　wizened　visage　

is　oddly　like　little　Baileyand　I　have　been　thinking　cheek　on　fist　

amidst　a　limitless　wealth　of　memories。　　She　sits　below　me　on　the　low　

wall　under　the　olive　trees　with　our　little　child　in　her　arms。　　She　

is　now　the　central　fact　in　my　life。　　It　still　seems　a　little　

incredible　that　that　should　be　so。　　She　has　destroyed　me　as　a　

politician；　brought　me　to　this　belated　rebeginning　of　life。　　When　I　

sit　down　and　try　to　make　her　a　girl　again；　I　feel　like　the　Arabian　

fisherman　who　tried　to　put　the　genius　back　into　the　pot　from　which　

it　had　spread　gigantic　across　the　skies。　。　。　。



I　have　a　very　clear　vision　of　her　rush　downhill　past　our　labouring　

ascendant　carmy　colours　fluttered　from　handle…bar　and　shoulder…

knotand　her　waving　hand　and　the　sharp　note　of　her　voice。　　She　

cried　out　something；　I　don't　know　what；　some　greeting。



〃What　a　pretty　girl！〃　said　Margaret。



Parvill；　the　cheap　photographer；　that　industrious　organiser　for　whom　

by　way　of　repayment　I　got　those　magic　letters；　that　knighthood　of　

the　underlings；　〃J。　P。〃　was　in　the　car　with　us　and　explained　her　to　

us。　　〃One　of　the　best　workers　you　have；〃　he　said。　。　。　。



And　then　after　a　toilsome　troubled　morning　we　came；　rather　cross　

from　the　strain　of　sustained　amiability；　to　Sir　Graham　Rivers'　

house。　　It　seemed　all　softness　and　quietI　recall　dead　white　

panelling　and　oval　mirrors　horizontally　set　and　a　marble　fireplace　

between　white　marble…blind　Homer　and　marble…blind　Virgil；　very　grave　

and　fineand　how　Isabel　came　in　to　lunch　in　a　shapeless　thing　like　

a　blue　smock　that　made　her　bright　quick…changing　face　seem　yellow　

under　her　cloud　of　black　hair。　　Her　step…sister　was　there；　Miss　

Gamer；　to　whom　the　house　was　to　descend；　a　well…dressed　lady　of　

thirty；　amiably　disavowing　responsibility　for　Isabel　in　every　phrase　

and　gesture。　　And　there　was　a　very　pleasant　doctor；　an　Oxford　man；　

who　seemed　on　excellent　terms　with　every　one。　　It　was　manifest　that　

he　was　in　the　habit　of　sparring　with　the　girl；　but　on　this　occasion　

she　wasn't　sparring　and　refused　to　be　teased　into　a　display　in　spite　

of　the　taunts　of　either　him　or　her　father。　　She　was；　they　discovered　

with　rising　eyebrows；　shy。　　It　seemed　an　opportunity　too　rare　for　

them　to　miss。　　They　proclaimed　her　enthusiasm　for　me　in　a　way　that　

brought　a　flush　to　her　cheek　and　a　look　into　her　eye　between　appeal　

and　defiance。　　They　declared　she　had　read　my　books；　which　I　thought　

at　the　time　was　exaggeration；　their　dry　political　quality　was　so　

distinctly　not　what　one　was　accustomed　to　regard　as　schoolgirl　

reading。　　Miss　Gamer　protested　to　protect　her；　〃When　once　in　a　blue　

moon　Isabel　is　well…behaved。　。　。　。！〃



Except　for　these　attacks　I　do　not　remember　much　of　the　conversation　

at　table；　it　was；　I　know；　discursive　and　concerned　with　the　sort　of　

topographical　and　social　and　electioneering　fact　natural　to　such　a　

visit。　　Old　Rivers　struck　me　as　a　delightful　person；　modestly　

unconscious　of　his　doubly…earned　V。　C。　and　the　plucky　defence　of　

Kardin…Bergat　that　won　his　baronetcy。　　He　was　that　excellent　type；　

the　soldier　radical；　and　we　began　that　day　a　friendship　that　was　

only　ended　by　his　death　in　the　hunting…field　three　years　later。　　He　

interested　Margaret　into　a　disregard　of　my　plate　and　the　fact　that　I　

had　secured　the　illegal　indulgence　of　Moselle。　　After　lunch　we　went　

for　coffee　into　another　low　room；　this　time　brown　panelled　and　

looking　through　French　windows　on　a　red…walled　garden；　graceful　even　

in　its　winter　desolation。　　And　there　the　conversation　suddenly　

picked　up　and　became　good。　　It　had　fallen　to　a　pause；　and　the　

doctor；　with　an　air　of　definitely　throwing　off　a　mask　and　wrecking　

an　established　tranquillity；　remarked：　〃Very　probably　you　Liberals　

will　come　in；　though　I'm　not　sure　you'll　come　in　so　mightily　as　you　

think；　but　what　you　do　when　you　do　come　in　passes　my　comprehension。〃



〃There's　good　work　sometimes；〃　said　Sir　Graham；　〃in　undoing。〃



〃You　can't　govern　a　great　empire　by　amending　and　repealing　the　Acts　

of　your　predecessors；〃　said　the　doctor。



There　came　that　kind　of　pause　that　happens　when　a　subject　is　

broached　too　big　and　difficult　for　the　gathering。　　Margaret's　blue　

eyes　regarded　the　speaker　with　quiet　disapproval　for　a　moment；　and　

then　came　to　me　in　the　not　too　confident　hope　that　I　would　snub　him　

out　of　existence　with　some　prompt　rhetorical　stroke。　　A　voice　spoke　

out　of　the　big　arm…chair。



〃We'll　do　things；〃　said　Isabel。



The　doctor's　eye　lit　with　the　joy　of　the　fisherman　who　strikes　his　

fish　at　last。　　〃What　will　you　do？〃　he　asked　her。



〃Every　one　knows　we're　a　mixed　lot；〃　said　Isabel。



〃Poor　old　chaps　like　me！〃　interjected　the　general。



〃But　that's　not　a　programme；〃　said　the　doctor。



〃But　Mr。　Remington　has　published　a　programme；〃　said　Isabel。



The　doctor　cocked　half　an　eye　at　me。



〃In　some　review；〃　the　girl　went　on。　　〃After　all；　we're　not　going　to　

elect　the　whole　Liberal　party　in　the　Kinghamstead　Division。　　I'm　a　

Remington…ite！〃



〃But　the　programme；〃　said　the　doctor；　〃the　programme〃



〃In　front　of　Mr。　Remington！〃



〃Scandal　always　comes　home　at　last；〃　said　the　doctor。　　〃Let　him　hear　

the　worst。〃



〃I'd　like　to　hear；〃　I　said。　　〃Electioneering　shatters　convictions　

and　enfeebles　the　mind。〃



〃Not　mine；〃　said　Isabel　stoutly。　　〃I　meanWell；　anyhow　I　take　it　

Mr。　Remington　stands　for　constructing　a　civilised　state　out　of　this　

muddle。〃



〃THIS　muddle；〃　protested　the　doctor　with　an　appeal　of　the　eye　to　the　

beautiful　long　room　and　the　ordered　garden　outside　the　bright　clean　

windows。



〃Well；　THAT　muddle；　if　you　like！　　There's　a　slum　within　a　mile　of　us　

already。　　The　dust　and　blacks　get　worse　and　worse；　Sissie？〃



〃They　do；〃　agreed　Miss　Gamer。



〃Mr。　Remington　stands　for　construction；　order；　education；　discipline。〃



〃And　you？〃　said　the　doctor。



〃I'm　a　good　Remington…ite。〃



〃Discipline！〃　said　the　doctor。



〃Oh！〃　said　Isabel。　　〃At　times　one　has　to　beNapoleonic。　　They　want　

to　libel　me；　Mr。　Remington。　　A　political　worker　can't　always　be　in　

time　for　meals；　can　she？　　At　times　one　has　to　makesplendid　cuts。〃



Miss　Gamer　said　something　indistinctly。



〃Order；　education；　discipline；〃　said　Sir　Graham。　　〃Excellent　things！　　

But　I've　a　sort　of　memoryin　my　young　dayswe　talked　about　

something　called　liberty。〃



〃Liberty　under　the　law；〃　I　said；　with　an　unexpected　approving　murmur　

from　Margaret；　and　took　up　the　defence。　　〃The　old　Liberal　definition　

of　liberty　was　a　trifle　uncritical。　　Privilege　and　legal　

restrictions　are　not　the　only　enemies　of　liberty。　　An　uneducated；　

underbred；　and　underfed　propertyless　man　is　a　man　who　has　lost　the　

possibility　of　liberty。　　There's　no　liberty　worth　a　rap　for　him。　　A　

man　who　is　swimming　hopelessly　for　life　wants　nothing　but　the　

liberty　to　get　out　of　the　water；　he'll　give　every　other　liberty　for　

ituntil　he　gets　out。〃



Sir　Graham　took　me　up　and　we　fell　into　a　discussion　of　the　changing　

qualities　of　Liberalism。　　It　was　a　good　give…and…take　talk；　

extraordinarily　refreshing　after　the　nonsense　and　crowding　secondary　

issues　of　the　electioneering　outside。　　We　all　contributed　mo