The Canon passed an unquiet night; and next morning, feeling in need of
fresh air, took a stroll in the Park. The day was very fine, and there
was a charming freshness in the air which soon brought back his
serenity. He sauntered up the Row looking at the people who were out
already to enjoy the earliness of the day after a late night at some gay
party. He stopped now and then to observe the flowers, in which he took
the horticulturist’s delight: Canon Spratte had an amiable weakness for
putting Latin names to the daintiest blossoms of the way-side. He nodded
to one or two friends and passed the time of day with a famous
politician. The scene had an air of luxury and of fashionable
indifference to the cares of life which filled him with satisfaction.
Presently he saw Gwendolen Durant ride towards him.
She looked so well on horseback that he wondered more than ever why
Lionel could not make up his mind to marry. She stopped and spoke to
him. They exchanged the simple banter which serves for wit among the
easily pleased, and the Canon expressed his admiration of her seat. She
nodded a farewell and put her heel to the horse’s side. But at that
moment a motor-car rushed by at a terrific speed and gave a series of
loud explosions. Gwendolen’s horse turned round with a sudden leap that
almost unseated her, and was on the point of bolting, when the Canon
jumped forward and seized the bridle. It was not a very dangerous
action, but it required some presence of mind, and he performed it with
a breadth of gesture that made it look almost heroic.
“Thanks, so much,” said Gwendolen, a little out of breath and startled.
“If you hadn’t been there he’d have bolted. He’s got a mouth like iron
and he simply pulls my arms out.”
“Are you quite sure you’re safe now?” asked Canon Spratte, anxiously.
The horse was still nervous and refused to stand still.
“He’ll probably bolt with me, but I must risk it,” she laughed, trying
to show no concern.
“Let me tighten the curb a little, and then you’ll be as safe as a
house.” With deft fingers he undid the chain and altered it. “You know,
you really ought not to ride alone.”
“A groom bores me, and there’s no one else to come.”
“_I_ shall ride with you to-morrow,” he answered. “I don’t think you
should be left to your own devices. Now I think you’re in no danger.”
She thanked him effusively and trotted quickly off. The Canon resumed
his promenade somewhat pleased with the action: he was grateful for the
smallest incident that served to restore his diminished self-esteem. He
was turning round to go home when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was
Sir John Durant.
“I’ve just seen Gwendolen. She tells me you saved her from a nasty
accident.”
“Oh, it was nothing. I happened to be near.”
“I don’t know how to thank you.”
“If you’ll allow me to say it, I think it’s somewhat incautious to let
her ride alone. I’ve offered to accompany her to-morrow.”
“Oh, that’s very good of you,” said the brewer. “I’m afraid you’ll find
it a great bore.”
“Not at all; I assure you it will be a great pleasure. My doctor has
advised me to take horse-exercise, and I shall be only too glad to have
some one to ride with.” The Canon put his arm through the brewer’s in
his most friendly fashion. “And how are you, my dear fellow? I trust
that your affairs are flourishing.”
“Well, in point of fact they’re not,” cried the other, suddenly growing
serious. “That confounded Government wants to give the local justices
power to close a certain proportion of public-houses in their
districts.”
“Ah, yes, I saw something about that in the papers, but I understood it
would have no influence on the consumption of liquor. Stonehenge’s idea
is that the remaining houses will profit.”
“Don’t you believe it,” cried Sir John, with much vigour. “Nine times
out of ten a man doesn’t drink a glass of beer because he’s thirsty, but
because there’s a public-house at his elbow. Each one they shut up will
take a good round sum out of our pockets.”
“The Government seems very strong on the point. I suppose they’ve been
got hold of by the faddists.”
Sir John stopped still and significantly tapped Canon Spratte on the
chest. His utterance was full of weight.
“Mark my words. The Government doesn’t know how strong we are. If they
try to interfere with the liquor interest it’ll be a bad day for the
Conservative party. I’ll fight them tooth and nail, and I shall carry
the whole trade with me. I’m not a boasting fool, but I tell you this:
the Government’s in a damned wobbly state, and if they put my back up I
don’t answer for the consequences.”
Canon Spratte looked at his red-faced friend with the utmost attention.
He knew that Sir John Durant was a rich man, but had not realized till
this moment that he was a powerful man as well. Events might take such a
turn that any one who had the brewer’s ear would command vast influence.
He looked at his watch. It was time for him to keep an appointment, and
he wanted to think quietly over the consequences of this discovery.
“Why don’t you come and lunch with me at the club one day?” he asked.
“I’m afraid I mayn’t take you to the Athenæum, but they give you capital
wine at the Carlton.”
Sir John accepted with pleasure, and so they parted. He was very
thoughtful during the remainder of that morning, but at luncheon
announced to his family that he proposed to ride every morning after
breakfast. His doctor had recommended exercise, and he knew of no other
which combined in such just proportions entertainment with utility.
“And what about this marriage of yours, Theodore?” asked Lady Sophia.
“You forget that we are all on tenterhooks.”
He stared at her for a moment with a very natural show of amazement, and
burst into a shout of laughter.
“It was only a little joke of mine, Sophia. You don’t imagine it’s
likely that I should marry at my age.”
“As you say, we Sprattes have a remarkable sense of humour,” she
replied, dryly.
“I can’t help poking fun at you sometimes, my dear. But, as you rightly
observed, no one would be such a fool as to marry an old fossil like
your humble servant.”
But her remarks had brought back to his mind an incident which he would
willingly have forgotten. He was still very sore, and the more he
thought of it the more foolish he felt himself. It was in no amiable
mood, therefore, that he waited for Bertram Railing, who was expected to
call that afternoon. Nor was the Canon much pleased with his daughter,
and he had mentioned two or three times his annoyance that her wilful
disobedience had placed him in an awkward position. Railing was not an
easy person to deal with. His plainness and outspoken candour rendered
possible a very undignified altercation.
But when the young man arrived nothing was visible on the Canon’s face
save complete friendliness. They shook hands.
“Ah, how good of you to come, dear Railing. So glad to see you.”
“Winnie told me she’d be at home this afternoon.”
“Of course I didn’t flatter myself that you’d come to see me,” laughed
the Canon. “But in point of fact I’ve been wanting to have a little
talk with you. It’s a very serious step that you young folks are
taking.”
“Then we’re wise to take it with a light heart,” cried Railing, gaily.
“Ha, ha, capital! Now I should have thought you were both very young to
be married.”
“I am twenty-eight, sir, and Winnie is twenty-one.”
“You neither of you look it,” murmured the Canon, with an amiable bow.
“Possibly!”
Canon Spratte pulled out the splendid cigarette-case in gold, with
initials of diamonds, which a fond admirer had presented to him. He
offered it to Railing.
“No, thank you. I never smoke.”
“I see you have no vices.” The Canon became so bland that it was
overwhelming. “Now, my dear fellow, let us discuss this matter in the
most cordial way. I need not tell you that I have the very highest
esteem for you personally, and the sincerest admiration for your
talents. But we live in an age when talent is not always rewarded
according to its merits, and I am curious to know upon what you propose
to live.”
“My income is about a hundred and fifty a year and Winnie has three
hundred from her mother.”
“You are very well informed,” smiled the Canon, good-naturedly.
“Winnie told me,” said Bertram, flushing.
“Obviously! I didn’t suppose for a moment that you had examined the will
at Somerset House. And do you imagine that Winnie will be content to
live on four hundred and fifty pounds a year?”
“It’s three times as much as my mother ever had.”
“Possibly, but your mother--a most excellent person, Mr. Railing--has
moved in rather a different stratum of society from my daughter.”
“Do you think your daughter cares two straws for the gewgaws and the
tawdry trappings of Society?” asked Bertram, scornfully.
The Canon shrugged his shoulders.
“I think my daughter is human, Mr. Railing; and although it may surprise
you, I will confess that I think a carriage and pair absolutely
essential to her happiness.”
“I know Winnie, and I love her. You think she’s a doll and a fool. She
was. But I have made her into a woman of flesh and blood. She’s a real
woman now and she loathes all the shams and the shallowness of Society.”
“She told you that, did she?” answered the Canon. “Upon my word, we
Sprattes _have_ a keen sense of humour.”
Bertram sprang to his feet and crossed over to the Canon.
“You think she cares for carriages and fine clothes. Her life was a
mockery. She didn’t know what life was. She had no aspirations, no
ideals. Of course she wasted herself on the frivolities of a foolish
world. Thank God, she knows now how narrow this little circle is of
idle, selfish people. She wants to work, she wants to labour with her
fellow-men, shoulder to shoulder, fighting the good fight.”
“And do you think, my dear young man, that it would ever have occurred
to Winnie that the world was hollow and foolish, if _you_ had a wart on
the tip of your nose, or a squint in your eye? Upon my soul, you’re very
unsophisticated.”
“You believe that all people are bad.”
“On the contrary, I’m so charitable as to think them merely foolish,”
said Canon Spratte, with an acid smile of amusement.
“Have you only sneers for the new life that fills your daughter’s eyes?
She’s a different creature now. Oh, I believe in her, thank God, as she
believes in me! She’s ready to take the journey with me only by her
side. Ah, I know she loves me. You think I’m only a fortune-hunter; we
don’t want your money, we shouldn’t know what to do with it.”
“And you’re quite content that for you she should sacrifice everything?”
“She flings away painted husks, dross, tinsel,” cried Bertram,
vehemently. “She gains the whole world.”
“Which means you and a villa in Peckham Rye. Upon my soul, you’re very
modest.”
Bertram looked at him steadily, thrusting forward his head with a
searching air. He turned over in his mind all that the other had said.
“What are you driving at?” he asked, at length. “Why don’t you say it
out like a man, instead of beating about the bush?”
“My dear Mr. Railing, I must beg you to observe the conventions of
polite society. It is clearly my duty to inquire into the circumstances
of any young man who proposes to marry my daughter.”
Bertram gave a little hoarse laugh.
“I distrusted you when you first agreed to our engagement. I knew you
despised me. I knew that all your flattery was humbug. Say it straight
out like a man.”
Canon Spratte shrugged his shoulders, and spoke slowly and gravely.
“Mr. Railing, I solemnly ask you to give up my daughter. After mature
reflection I have come to the conclusion that the marriage is
impossible, and I will never give my consent to it.”
“We will do without it; we’re free, both of us, and we don’t care a
button for you. Winnie has promised to marry me, and, by God, she
shall.”
“Do you absolutely disregard my express wishes?”
“The matter concerns us alone, and no one else in the whole world.”
Canon Spratte thoughtfully examined his finger-nails.
On a sudden he had an inspiration. He had learned a fact from Mrs.
Railing, which he thought at the time might prove useful, and here was
the opportunity.
“Well, Mr. Railing, it’s very painful to me to have to talk to you in
this manner. It is true that some time ago I gave a provisional sanction
to your engagement with Winnie, and I can perfectly understand that it
should seem strange if I now resolutely forbid it. I have no doubt this
is a great disappointment to you, and for that reason I excuse your
heated language, which has been certainly wanting in courtesy. I am sure
that when you are calmer you will regret some of the expressions you
have seen fit to use. But I will tell you at once that I bear you on
this account absolutely no ill-will.”
“I’m much obliged to you, but I’m not aware that I’ve used any
expression which I’m in the least likely to regret,” said Bertram,
sharply.
“Then, if I may say so, as a man much older than yourself, and as a
clergyman, you show both your want of Christian charity and your
ignorance of social amenities.... I beg you not to interrupt me,” he
added, when he saw that Railing was about to make a rejoinder. “You will
understand that I am not the man to wrangle like a fishwife.”
“Will you tell me shortly what new objection you have to me, Canon
Spratte?”
“That is what I am about to do. It has come to my knowledge that your
eldest sister is unfortunately in a lunatic asylum. I need not tell you
that I regret this misfortune, but my views on the subject are very
decided. With insanity among your relations, I feel that an alliance
between your family and mine is out of the question.”
“That’s absurd!” cried Railing. “Florrie had an accident when she was a
child. She fell downstairs, and since then she’s been----”
“Not quite right in her head, as your mother expressed it, Mr. Railing.
I should like you to observe, however, that every child falls
downstairs, and the entire human race is not so imbecile as to need the
restraint of a lunatic asylum.”
Bertram’s eyes were fixed steadily on Canon Spratte. He tried to
discover what lay at the back of the man’s mind, but could not. He saw
only that behind that calm face, amid this resonance of polished
phrase, something was being hidden from him.
“I don’t believe a word you say. I’m not a child. I assure you it’s no
good trying to hoodwink me. Tell me the simple truth.”
The Canon flushed at this appeal and was nearly put out of countenance.
He wondered if he should fly into a passion and order Railing out of the
house. But it was doubtful whether the Socialist would go. He was a
little disconcerted, too, by the steadfastness with which Bertram had
resisted him, and the scorn wherewith he brushed aside his specious
reasons. Canon Spratte was hot with anger. The taunts to which he had
calmly listened, rankled in his heart, and he would have been pleased to
show that none could thus treat him with impunity. But he seldom lost
his temper unadvisedly, and he realized now that calmness gave him a
decided advantage over the angry and excited suitor.
“Are you quite sure that Winnie cares for you?” he asked, mildly.
“As sure as I am of my own name and of my own life.”
There was a pause. The Canon for a minute walked up and down the room;
and then, holding himself very erect, stood still in front of Bertram.
His voice was full of authority.
“Well, it is my painful duty to inform you that you are mistaken.
Winnie recognizes that she misjudged the strength of her affection.”
“I don’t believe it,” said Railing, full of scorn.
“My patience must be inexhaustible. I am much tempted to kick you
downstairs, Mr. Railing.”
“You forget that I’m a working-man and horny-handed, so it’s safer not
to try.”
“It evidently hasn’t occurred to you that the manners of Peckham Rye are
not altogether suitable to South Kensington,” smiled the Canon, blandly.
“Well?”
“Winnie has requested me to tell you that she finds she does not care
for you enough to marry you. She regrets the inconvenience and
unhappiness that she has caused, and desires you to release her.”
Bertram grew white and he gathered himself together as a wild beast
might, driven to bay.
“It’s a lie!” he cried, furiously. “It’s a lie!”
The Canon replied with the utmost calm.
“You will have the goodness to remember that I am a minister of the
Church and a son of the late Lord Chancellor of England.”
“If it’s true, you’ve forced her to give me up. I _know_ she loves me.”
“You may think what you choose, Mr. Railing. The fact remains that she
wishes to break off her engagement with you. As a man of honour there is
obviously but one course open to you.”
“You tell me I’m a man of honour and you treat me like a lackey. Do you
think you can dismiss me like a servant? Don’t you know that my whole
life’s happiness is at stake? She can’t send me away like that. It’s not
true, it’s not true.”
“On my honour as a gentleman, I have told you the exact truth,” replied
Canon Spratte, gravely. Bertram seized the Canon’s arm.
“Let her tell me herself. I must see her. Where is she?”
“She’s gone out.”
“But she knew I was coming here to-day. She expected me.”
“Doesn’t that show you that what I have said is the simple truth? I
wished to spare you both a painful scene.”
Bertram hesitated. He could not tell whether Winnie was really out, but
it seemed impossible to verify the statement. For a moment he looked
straight into the Canon’s eyes, then without a word turned on his heel.
Canon Spratte gave a sigh of relief.
“What an escape!” he muttered. “Good Lord, what an escape!”