the angel and the author-第12章
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the real young man proposes to her！ He has not called her anything
in particular。 Possibly he has got as far as suggesting she is a
duck or a daisy； or hinting shyly that she is his bee or his
honeysuckle： in his excitement he is not quite sure which。 In the
novel she has been reading the hero has likened the heroine to half
the vegetable kingdom。 Elementary astronomy has been exhausted in
his attempt to describe to her the impression her appearance leaves
on him。 Bond Street has been sacked in his endeavour to get it
clearly home to her what different parts of her are likeher eyes；
her teeth； her heart； her hair； her ears。 Delicacy alone prevents
his extending the catalogue。 A Fiji Island lover might possibly go
further。 We have not yet had the Fiji Island novel。 By the time he
is through with it she must have a somewhat confused notion of
herselfa vague conviction that she is a sort of condensed South
Kensington Museum。
＇Difficulty of living up to the Poster。＇
Poor Angelina must feel dissatisfied with the Edwin of real life。 I
am not sure that art and fiction have not made life more difficult
for us than even it was intended to be。 The view from the mountain
top is less extensive than represented by the picture postcard。 The
play； I fear me； does not always come up to the poster。 Polly
Perkins is pretty enough as girls go； but oh for the young lady of
the grocer's almanack！ Poor dear John is very nice and loves usso
he tells us； in his stupid； halting way； but how can we respond when
we remember how the man loved in the play！ The 〃artist has fashioned
his dream of delight；〃 and the workaday world by comparison seems
tame to us。
CHAPTER VIII
＇The Lady and the Problem。＇
She is a good woman； the Heroine of the Problem Play； but accidents
will happen； and other people were to blame。
Perhaps that is really the Problem： who was responsible for the
heroine's past？ Was it her father？ She does not say sonot in so
many words。 That is not her way。 It is not for her； the silently…
suffering victim of complicated antecedent incidents； to purchase
justice for herself by pointing the finger of accusation against him
who； whatever his faults may be； was once； at all events； her father。
That one fact in his favour she can never forget。 Indeed she would
not if she could。 That one asset； for whatever it may be worth by
the time the Day of Judgment arrives； he shall retain。 It shall not
be taken from him。 〃After all he was my father。〃 She admits it；
with the accent on the 〃was。〃 That he is so no longer； he has only
himself to blame。 His subsequent behaviour has apparently rendered
it necessary for her to sever the relationship。
〃I love you；〃 she has probably said to him； paraphrasing Othello's
speech to Cassio； 〃it is my duty； andas by this time you must be
awareit is my keen if occasionally somewhat involved； sense of duty
that is the cause of almost all our troubles in this play。 You will
always remain the object of what I cannot help feeling is misplaced
affection on my part； mingled with contempt。 But never more be
relative of mine。〃
Certain it is that but for her father she would never have had a
past。 Failing anyone else on whom to lay the blame for whatever the
lady may have done； we can generally fall back upon the father。 He
becomes our sheet…anchor； so to speak。 There are plays in which at
first sight it would almost appear there was nobody to blamenobody；
except the heroine herself。 It all seems to happen just because she
is no better than she ought to be： clearly； the father's fault！ for
ever having had a daughter no better than she ought to be。 As the
Heroine of a certain Problem Play once put it neatly and succinctly
to the old man himself： 〃It is you parents that make us children
what we are。〃 She had him there。 He had not a word to answer for
himself； but went off centre； leaving his hat behind him。
Sometimes； however； the father is merely a 〃Scientist〃which in
Stageland is another term for helpless imbecile。 In Stageland； if a
gentleman has not got to have much brain and you do not know what
else to make of him； you let him be a scientistand then； of course；
he is only to blame in a minor degree。 If he had not been a
scientistthinking more of his silly old stars or beetles than of
his intricate daughter； he might have done something。 The heroine
does not say precisely what： perhaps have taken her up stairs now
and again； while she was still young and susceptible of improvement；
and have spanked some sense into her。
＇The Stage Hero who； for once； had Justice done to him。＇
I remember witnessing long ago； in a country barn； a highly moral
play。 It was a Problem Play； now I come to think of it。 At least；
that is； it would have been a Problem Play but that the party with
the past happened in this case to be merely a male thing。 Stage life
presents no problems to the man。 The hero of the Problem Play has
not got to wonder what to do； he has got to wonder only what the
heroine will do next。 The herohe was not exactly the hero； he
would have been the hero had he not been hanged in the last act。 But
for that he was rather a nice young man； full of sentiment and not
ashamed of it。 From the scaffold he pleaded for leave to embrace his
mother just once more before he died。 It was a pretty idea。 The
hangman himself was touched。 The necessary leave was granted him。
He descended the steps and flung his arms round the sobbing old lady；
andbit off her nose。 After that he told her why he had bitten off
her nose。 It appeared that when he was a boy； he had returned home
one evening with a rabbit in his pocket。 Instead of putting him
across her knee； and working into him the eighth commandment； she had
said nothing； but that it seemed to be a fairly useful sort of
rabbit； and had sent him out into the garden to pick onions。 If she
had done her duty by him then； he would not have been now in his
present most unsatisfactory position； and she would still have had
her nose。 The fathers and mothers in the audience applauded； but the
children； scenting addition to precedent； looked glum。
Maybe it is something of this kind the heroine is hinting at。
Perhaps the Problem has nothing to do with the heroine herself； but
with the heroine's parents： what is the best way of bringing up a
daughter who shows the slightest sign of developing a tendency
towards a Past？ Can it be done by kindness？ And； if not； how much？
Occasionally the parents attempt to solve the Problem； so far as they
are concerned； by dying youngshortly after the heroine's birth。 No
doubt they argue to themselves this is their only chance of avoiding
future blame。 But they do not get out of it so easily。
〃Ah； if I had only had a motheror even a father！〃 cries the
heroine： one feels how mean it was of them to slip away as they did。
The fact remains； however； that they are dead。 One despises them for
dying； but beyond that it is difficult to hold them personally
responsible for the heroine's subsequent misdeeds。 The argument
takes to itself new shape。 Is it Fate that is to blame？ The lady
herself would seem to favour this suggestion。 It has always been her
fate； she explains； to bring suffering and misery upon those she
loves。 At first； according to her own account； she rebelled against
this cruel Fatepossibly instigated thereto by the people
unfortunate enough to he loved by her。 But of late she has come to
accept this strange destiny of hers with touching resignation。 It
grieves her； when she thinks of it； that she is unable to imbue those
she loves with her own patient spirit。 They seem to be a fretful
little band。
Considered as a scapegoat； Fate； as compared with the father； has
this advantage： it is always about： it cannot slip away and die
before the real trouble begins： it cannot even plead a scientific
head； it is there all the time。 With care one can blame it for most
everything。 The vexing thing about it is； that it does not mind
being blamed。 O
