OF THINGS IN GENERAL
The result of the election was no surprise to the defeated party. The
honest among them acknowledged that they deserved to be beaten, and
they felt no personal rancour against Eloquent.
If Marlehouse was unfortunate enough to be represented by a Radical,
they preferred that the Radical should be a Marlehouse man and not some
"carpet-bagger" imported from South Wales. Eloquent's bearing, both
during the contest and afterwards, was acknowledged to be modest and
"suitable." If he was lacking in geniality and address, he was, at all
events, neither bumptious nor servile. His lenity towards the youths
who had done their best to break up his meeting and wreck his committee
rooms had leaked out, and gained for him, if not friends, at least
toleration among several leading Conservatives who had been his
bitterest opponents.
Mary, Grantly, and Buz Ffolliot all felt a sneaking satisfaction that
he _had_ got in. A satisfaction they in no wise dared to express, for
Mr Ffolliot was really much upset at the result of the election;
feeling it something of a personal insult that one so closely
associated with a ready-made clothes' shop, a shop in his own nearest
town, should represent him in Parliament. Mr Ffolliot would have
preferred the "carpet-bagger."
Mary, who cared as little as she knew about politics, was pleased.
Because Eloquent had been "decent" to Grantly, she was glad he had got
what he wanted, though why he should ardently desire that particular
thing she did not attempt to understand. Grantly was sincerely
grateful to Eloquent for getting him out of what would undoubtedly have
been a most colossal row, had any hint of his conduct at Marlehouse on
the eve of the election reached his father's ears.
Neither Grantly nor Mary knew anything of the Miss Buttermish episode.
For Buz, since the accident, was basking in the sympathy of his family,
and had no intention of diverting the stream of favours that flowed
over him by any revelations they might not wholly approve. Buz,
therefore, had his own reasons, unshared by anyone but Uz (who was
silent as the grave in all that concerned his twin), for gratitude to
Eloquent. Grantly and Buz unconsciously shared a rather unwilling
admiration for the little, common-looking man who could do a good turn
and hold his tongue, evidently expecting neither recognition nor
remembrance. For Eloquent expected neither, and yet he could not
forget the real earnestness of Grantly Ffolliot's parting words.
Could such a foolish youth be trusted to mean what he said? or was it
only the surface courtesy that seemed to come so easily to the
"classes" Eloquent still regarded with mistrust and suspicion?
He longed to test Grantly Ffolliot.
An opportunity came sooner than he expected. Parliament did not meet
till the end of the month, and although he went to London a good deal
on varied business, he kept on the little house in his native town,
wrote liberal cheques for all the charities, opened a Baptist bazaar,
and generally did his duty according to his lights and the instructions
of his agent.
In the third week of January he was asked to "kick off" at a "soccer"
match to be held in Marlehouse. This was rather an event, as two
important teams from a distance were for some reason or other to play
there. The Marlehouse folk played "Rugger" as a rule, but this match
was regarded in the light of a curiosity; people would come in from
miles round, and hordes of mechanics would flock over from Garchester,
the county town. It was considered quite a big sporting event, and his
agent informed Eloquent that a great honour had been done him.
Eloquent appeared duly impressed and accepted the invitation.
Then it occurred to him that never in his life had he seen a football
match of any kind.
Games were not compulsory at the Grammar School, and Eloquent had no
natural inclination to play them. When a little boy he had generally
gone for a walk with his father or his aunt on a half-holiday. As he
grew older he either attended extra classes at the science school or
read for himself notable books bearing upon the political history of
the last fifty years. Games had no place in his scheme of existence.
His father, most certainly, had never played games and had no desire
that Eloquent should do so; as for going to watch other people play
them--such a proceeding would have been dismissed by the elder Mr
Gallup as "foolhardy nonsense." Serious-minded men had no time for
such frivolity.
Nevertheless it became increasingly evident to Eloquent that a large
number of his constituents--whether they actually took part in what he
persisted in calling "these pastimes" or not--were very keenly
interested in watching others do so, and Eloquent was consumed by
anxiety as to how he was to discover what it was he was expected to do.
There were plenty of his political supporters who were not only able
but would have been most willing to solve his difficulty, but he
dreaded the inevitable confession of his ignorance. They would be kind
enough, he was sure of that, but would they make game of his ignorance
afterwards? Would they _talk_?
He was pretty sure they would.
Eloquent hated talk. Grantly and Buz Ffolliot had each recognised and
admired that quality in him, and it is possible that he had vaguely
discerned a kindred reticence in these feather-brained boys.
He distrusted all his political allies in Marlehouse in this matter of
the kick-off.
Why then should Grantly Ffolliot occur to him as a person able and
likely to help him in this dilemma?
He was pretty sure that Grantly played football. Soldiers did these
things, and Grantly was going to be a soldier. A soldier, in
Eloquent's mind, epitomised all that was useless, idle, luxurious, and
destructive. Mr Gallup and his friends had disapproved of the
Transvaal War; our reverses did not affect them personally, for they
had no friends at the front, and our long-deferred victories left them
cold. The flame of Eloquent's enthusiasm was fanned at school, only to
be quenched at home by the wet blanket of his father's disapproval.
Sturdy Miss Gallup snapped at them both, and knitted helmets and
mittens and sent socks and handkerchiefs and cocoa to the Redmarley men
in South Africa; and her brother gave her the socks and handkerchiefs
out of stock, but under protest.
Eloquent knew no soldiers, either officers or in the ranks. He had
been taught to look upon the private as almost always drawn from the
less reputable of the working classes, and although he acknowledged
that officers might, some of them, be hard-working and intelligent, he
was inclined to regard them with suspicion.
Suppose he did ask Grantly Ffolliot about this ridiculous kick-off, and
Grantly went about making fun of him afterwards?
"Then I shall know," he said to himself. All the same it appeared to
him that Grantly Ffolliot was the only possible person _to_ ask.
It came about quite easily. One morning he was coming down the steps
of the bank in Marlehouse and saw Grantly on horseback waiting at the
curb till someone should turn up to hold his horse while he went in.
He had ridden in to cash a cheque for his mother. The main street was
very empty and no available loafer was to be seen.
As Grantly caught sight of Eloquent descending the steps he smiled his
charming smile. "Hullo, I've never seen you since the election.
Heartiest grats," the boy called cheerily. Eloquent went up to him and
held out his hand. He looked up and down the street, no one was within
earshot. "I've a favour to ask you, Mr Ffolliot," he said in a low
tone, "but you must promise to refuse at once if you have any
objection."
Grantly leant down to him, smiling more broadly than ever. "That's
awfully decent of you," he said, and he meant it.
Again Eloquent cast an anxious look up and down the street. "They've
asked me to kick-off at the match on Saturday, and . . . you'll think
me extraordinarily ignorant . . . I've no idea what one does. Can I
learn in the time?"
Eloquent's always rosy face was almost purple with the effort he had
made.
Grantly, on the contrary, appeared quite unmoved. He fixed his eyes on
his horse's left ear and said easily: "It's the simplest thing in the
world. All we want is a field and a ball, and we've got both at home.
At least . . . not a soccer ball--but I don't think that matters. When
will you come?"
"When may I come?"
"Meet me this afternoon in the field next but one behind the church.
There's never anyone there, and we'll fix it up."
"All right," said Eloquent. "Many thanks . . . I suppose you think it
very absurd?" he added nervously.
This time Grantly did not look at Mafeking's left ear, he looked
straight into Eloquent's uplifted eyes, saying slowly:
"I don't see that I'm called upon to think anything about it. You've
done another kind thing in asking me. Why should you think I don't see
it?"
And in spite of himself Eloquent mumbled, "I beg your pardon."
"This afternoon then, at three-thirty sharp--good-day."
A loafer hurried up at this moment and Grantly swung off his horse and
ran up the steps into the bank.
Eloquent looked after the graceful figure in the well-cut riding
clothes and sighed--
"If I'd been like himself he'd have asked me to hold his horse while he
went in, but things being as they are, he wouldn't," he reflected
bitterly.
* * * * * *
Only one belonging to a large family knows how difficult it is to do
anything by one's self.
That afternoon it seemed to Grantly that each member of the Manor House
party wanted him for something, and he offended every one of them by
ungraciously refusing to accompany each one in turn.
His mother and Mary were driving into Marlehouse and wanted him to come
and hold the horse while they went into the different shops, but he
excused himself on the score of his morning's errand, and Uz was told
off for the duty, greatly to his disgust. Reggie asked Grantly to ride
with him, but Grantly complained of fatigue, and Reggie, who knew
perfectly well that the excuse was invalid, called him a slacker and
started forth huffily alone, mentally animadverting on the "edge"
displayed by the new type of cadet.
Nearly ten years' service gave Reggie the right to talk regretfully of
the stern school he had been brought up in.
Ger, on the previous day, had been sent to his grandparents at Woolwich
"by command"; and the Kitten was going with Thirza to a children's
party. She was therefore made to lie down for an hour after lunch--so
she was disposed of. There remained only Buz, and Buz was on the prowl
seeking someone to amuse him. His arm was still in a sling and he
expected sympathy. He shadowed Grantly till nearly half-past three,
when that gentleman appeared in the back passage clad in sweater and
shorts, with a Rugger ball under his arm.
"Hullo," cried Buz, "where are you off to?"
"I'm going to practise drop-kicks . . . by myself," Grantly answered
grumpily.
"Why can't I come? I could kick even if I can't use this beastly arm."
"No, it's too cold for you to stand about."
"Bosh; I can wrap myself in a railway rug if it comes to that."
"It needn't come to that. You go for a sharp walk or else take a book
and amuse yourself. I must be off."
"Well you _are_ a selfish curmudgeon," Buz exclaimed in real
astonishment. "Why this sudden passion for solitude?"
Grantly banged the door in Buz's face, regardless of the warning cards,
and set off to run. Buz opened the door and looked after him, noted
the direction, nodded his head thrice and nipped upstairs to Grantly's
room, where he abstracted his field-glasses from their case hanging on
a peg behind the door. He hung them round his neck by the short black
strap, tied a sweater over his shoulders, and went out by the side door
in quite a different direction from that taken by his brother.
* * * * * *
Oblivious of the surgeon's strict injunctions that he was on no account
to run or risk a fall of any kind, holding the glasses with his free
hand so that they shouldn't drag on his neck, directly he was clear of
the house he broke into the swinging steady trot that had won him the
half-mile under fifteen in the last school sports; climbed two gates
and jumped a ditch, finally arriving at the top of a small hill, the
very highest point on the Manor property. From this eminence he
surveyed the country round, and speedily, without the aid of the
field-glasses, discerned his brother kicking a football well into the
centre of the field, while the Liberal member for Marlehouse ran after
it and tried somewhat feebly to kick it back.
"Well I'm jiggered!" Buz exclaimed in breathless astonishment; "so he
knows him too. Whatever are they playing at?"
He fixed the field-glasses, watching intently, then dropped them and
rubbed his eyes, took them up again and gazed fixedly, and so absorbed
was he that he positively leapt into the air when he heard his father's
voice close beside him asking mildly, "What are you watching so
intently, Hilary?"
The lovely winter afternoon had tempted Mr Ffolliot out. Usually Mrs
Ffolliot accompanied him on his rare walks, but this afternoon he only
decided to go out after she had left for Marlehouse. Like Buz, he
sought the highest point of his estate, in his case that he might
complacently survey its many acres.
Buz dropped the glasses so that they hung by their strap and swung
round, facing his father with his back to the distant figures with the
football, seized the glasses again and gazed into the copse, exclaiming
eagerly, "A fox, sir; perhaps you could see him if you're quick,"
pulled the strap over his head, gave the glasses a dextrous twist,
entirely destroying their focus, and handed them to his father, who
fiddled about for some time before he could see anything at all.
"A fox," Mr Ffolliot repeated, "in the copse. We had better go and
warn Willets to look out for his ducks and chickens."
"I don't suppose he'll stay, sir, but perhaps it would be as well.
Shall I take the glasses, father, they're rather heavy?"
But Mr Ffolliot had got them focussed and was leisurely surveying the
distant scene; gradually turning so that in another moment he would
bear directly on the field where Grantly and Eloquent were now to be
seen standing in earnest conversation.
"There he is," shouted the mendacious Buz, seizing his father by the
arm so violently that he almost knocked him down, "over there towards
the house; don't you see him? a big dog fox with a splendid brush----"
Imperceptibly Buz had propelled his father down the slope on the side
farthest from his brother.
"My dear Hilary," Mr Ffolliot exclaimed, straightening his hat, which
had become disarranged in the violence of his son's impact, "one would
think no one had ever seen a fox before; why be so excited about it?"
"But didn't you see him, sir?" Buz persisted. "There he goes close by
the garden wall; oh, do look."
Mr Ffolliot looked for all he was worth. He twiddled the glasses and
put them out of focus, but naturally he failed to behold the mythical
fox which was the product of his offspring's fertile brain.
They were at the bottom of the slope now, and Buz gave a sigh of relief.
"I thought I saw two youths in the five-acre field," Mr Ffolliot
remarked presently; "what were they doing?"
"Practising footer, I fancy," Buz said easily, thankful that at last he
could safely speak the truth.
"Ah," said Mr Ffolliot, "it is extraordinary what a lot of time the
working classes seem able to spend upon games nowadays. Still, I'm
always glad they should play rather than merely watch. It is that
watching and not doing that saps the moral as well as the physical
strength of the nation."
"It's Thursday, you see, father--early closing," Buz suggested.
"Well, well, I'm glad they should have their game. Shall we stroll
round and have a look at them?"
"Oh I wouldn't, if I were you, father, they'd stop directly. These
village chaps are always so shy. It would spoil their afternoon."
"Would it?" Mr Ffolliot asked dubiously; "would it? I should have
thought they would have found encouragement in the fact that their
Squire took an interest in their sports."
"I don't think so," Buz said decidedly; "they hate to be looked at when
they're practising."
"Very well, very well, if you think so," Mr Ffolliot said with
surprising meekness; "we'll go and see Willets instead, and tell him
about that fox."
"I don't think I'd bother him, the fox is miles away by now."
"Well, where shall we go?" Mr Ffolliot demanded testily; "I've come out
to walk with you, and you do nothing but object to every direction I
propose."
"Let us," said Buz, praying for inspiration, "let us go straight on
till we come to a cleaner bit."
Mr Ffolliot looked ruefully at his boots. "It is wet," he remarked,
"mind you don't slip with that arm of yours."
"Shall I take the glasses, father?" Buz asked politely.
"Yes, do, though I'm not sure that I wholly approve of Grantly lending
these expensive glasses to you younger ones. I must speak to him about
it."
Buz sighed heavily.
* * * * * *
Just once more did Eloquent see Mary before Parliament met. It was in
a shop in Marlehouse the day after he had received his lesson in
kicking off, and he was buying ties. Eloquent was critical about ties,
he had by long apprenticeship penetrated to the true inwardness of
their importance, and this afternoon he was very difficult to please.
Many boxes were laid upon the counter before him, the counter was
strewn with "neckwear," and yet he had only found one to his liking.
While the assistant was away seeking others from distant shelves,
Eloquent busied himself in arranging the scattered ties carefully in
their proper boxes. For him it was a perfectly natural thing to do,
but he happened to look into the mirror that faced the counter, and in
it he beheld Mary Ffolliot seated at the counter behind him, and she
was watching him with fascinated interest. Buz was with her and they
were buying socks. Eloquent's deft hands dropped to his sides and he
turned furiously red. For no one knew better than he that it is not
usual for a customer to arrange goods in a shop.
The young lady in the mirror had discreetly turned her head away, the
assistant came back, Eloquent bought two ties without having the least
idea what they were like, and then he heard a voice behind him saying,
"How do you do, Mr Gallup--we've not seen you since the election to
congratulate you," and Mary was standing at his side holding out her
hand.
He shook hands with Mary, he shook hands with Buz, he mumbled something
incoherent, and they were gone.
The Liberal member for Marlehouse rushed from the shop in an opposite
direction without taking or paying for his ties, and the astute
assistant packed them up, having added three that Eloquent did not buy,
for the good of the trade.