I.

A grey, winter morning filtered through lace curtains into drawing-

rooms typical of a fashionable London neighbourhood and a moderate

income. There was neither excess of porcelain, nor of small tables,

nor of screens. Two large vases hinted at some vulgarity of taste; a

grand piano in the back room suggested a love of music, and Mrs.

Lahens had but to sing a few notes to leave no doubt that she had

bestowed much care on the cultivation of her voice. But method only

disguised its cracks and thinness as powder and rouge did the fading

and withering of her skin. She was like her voice.

Lord Chadwick stood behind her, following the music bar by bar, and

with an interest and a pleasure that did not concord with his

appearance. For there was nothing in his appearance to indicate that

his intelligence was on a higher plane than that of the mess-room. His

appearance seemed to fluctuate between the mess-room and the company

promoter's office. He was a good-looking solicitor, he was a good-

looking officer; the eyes were attractive; the nose was too large, but

it was well-shaped; a heavy military moustache curled over his cheeks,

and, as he stood nodding his head, delighted with the music, the

seeming commonness of his appearance wore away.

Her song finished, Mrs. Lahens got up from the piano. She was tall and

well-made; perhaps too full in the bosom, perhaps too wide in the

hips, and perhaps the smallness of the waist was owing to her stays.

Her figure suggested these questions. She wore a fashionable lilac

blue silk, pleated over the bosom; and round her waist a chatelaine to

which was attached a number of trinkets, a purse of gold net, a pencil

case, some rings, a looking-glass, and small gold boxes jewelled--

probably containing powder. Her hair was elaborately arranged, as if

by the hairdresser, and she exhaled a faint odour of heliotrope as she

crossed the room. She was still a handsome woman; she once had been

beautiful, but too obviously beautiful to be really beautiful; there

was nothing personal or distinguished in her face; it was made of too

well-known shapes--the long, ordinary, clear-cut nose, and the eyes,

forehead, cheeks, and chin proportioned according to the formula of

the casts in vestibules. That she was slightly _declassee_ was clear

in the first glance. And she represented all that the word could be

made to mean--_liaisons,_ familiarity with fashionable restaurants,

and the latest French literature.

Lord Chadwick saw that she was out of temper, and wondered what was

the cause. He had not yet spoken to her; she was singing when he came

into the room. So laying his hand on her shoulder, he said:

'What is the matter, Olive?'

But it was some time before he could get an answer. At last she said:

'I had an unpleasant scene with the Major this morning.'

'I am glad it is no more than that,' and Lord Chadwick threw himself

into an arm-chair. 'What further eccentricity has he been guilty of?

Does he want to sweep the crossing, or to wait at table in the

crossing-sweeper's clothes?' 'He has bought an old overcoat from the

butler.'

'And wants to wear it at lunch?'

'No; he's got a new suit. I insisted on that. It came home last night.

He had to give way, for I told him that if he would come down to lunch

he must come decently dressed, otherwise he would do Agnes a great

deal of harm.'

'But you couldn't persuade him to stick to his type-writing, and keep

out of the way?'

'No, and I thought it better not to try. Agnes' return home has

excited him dreadfully, and he fancies that it is his duty to watch

over her--to protect her from my friends.'

'Then I suppose we shall never get rid of him. He'll be here all day,

night and day. Good Heavens!'

'I don't say that. I hope that this new idea of his is only a freak.

He will soon tire of his task of censor of morals. Meanwhile, we are

to be most guarded in our conversation. And as for you----'

'What has he got against me?' and Lord Chadwick looked at Mrs. Lahens.

'About me!' he repeated, 'Nonsense.'

'I don't mean that he's jealous, but he thinks that we should not

continue to see one another.'

'Does he give any reason?'

'Agnes is coming home to-day. I shall have to take her into society.

He says that society will not stand it, unless our relations are

broken off.'

'Society has stood it for the last seven years; society will stand

anything except the Divorce Court, and there's no danger of that.'

'The Major's very queer. I don't know what's the matter with him; I

never saw him go on as he did this morning. He says that the girl

shall not be sacrificed if he can help it.'

'You don't think he'll make a row, do you?'

'Are you afraid?'

'Of what? For your sake I shouldn't like a row. Afraid of a madman

like that! But he can do nothing. I don't see what he can do.'

'That's what he said himself. He says he can do nothing--you should

have seen him walking up and down the room, dressed in a suit of

clothes out of a rag shop, yellow-grey things two sizes too big for

him; he has to roll up the ends of the trousers. He had no collar on,

and to keep his neck warm he had tied an old pink scarf round his

throat. He couldn't walk either way above a couple of yards, for the

roof slants down almost to the floor; he knocked his head against the

roof, but he did not mind, he went on talking, half to me, half to

himself.'

'He sent for you, then?'

'Yes; that he'd like to see me upstairs. I told my maid to say that he

was to come down to my room, but she brought back word that the Major

couldn't come down, would I go up to him. So I had to go up to his

garret. You never saw such a place. At last I got tired of listening

to him--I couldn't stand there in the cold any longer--I was catching

cold.'

'But you haven't told me what he said.'

'The usual thing: that it was the loss of his money that had brought

him where he was; that if he only had a little money, if he could only

keep himself, he would take his daughter away to live with him. He

didn't know what would become of her in this house. Oh, he did go on.

At last he burst into tears, he threw himself at my feet and said he'd

forgive me everything if I'd only think of my daughter.'

'What did you say?'

'I said the best way to consider his daughter's interests, was by

avoiding all scandal and wearing proper clothes.'

'And he promised he would wear the new suit?'

'Yes; he promised he would. He said that he knew all I said was true.

That it wasn't my fault, that a woman couldn't be expected to respect

a man who couldn't keep her, that he felt the shame of his position in

the house, that it had broken his heart, that if he had lost his money

it was not his fault, that the world was full of rogues, you know--

you've heard him go on.'

'I should think I had. I don't know how I put up with him. Very often

it is as much as I can do to prevent myself from running out of the

room.'

Mrs. Lahens looked at her lover angrily.

'You don't think what I have to put up with. You come here when you

like, you go away when you like.... Men are always the same, they only

think of themselves. You don't think of me, you do not remember what I

have put up with for your sake, of the sacrifices I have made for you.

I should have left him years ago when he lost his money if it hadn't

been for fear of compromising you.'

'He never would have divorced you. He'd have been left without a cent

if he had, and he couldn't have got anything out of me.'

'Whatever my husband's faults are, he's not mercenary. There are many

who think more of money and its advantages than he.'

'Now, what are you angry about, Olive?' and Lord Chadwick laid his

hand on her shoulder.

'I don't like unjust accusations, not even against my husband. The

Major is a fool, but he is not dishonourable; he is the most

honourable man that comes to this house. It was not on account of my

money that he did not divorce me.'

'On account of you, then.'

'Partly, strange as that may seem to you, and on account of his

daughter.'

Lord Chadwick did not answer. The conversation was taking a

disagreeable turn, and as he looked into the fire he thought how he

might change it.

'So Agnes returns home to-day?'

'Yes, her father insisted... She, poor dear, begged and prayed to be

allowed to become a nun, but he would not listen to her any more than

he would to me.... There was no use arguing.... You know what the

Major is; you are never sure when he'll turn on you. If I opposed him

he might come down some evening when there was a party, and inform my

guests that I kept my daughter imprisoned in a convent, that I

wouldn't let her out. No; I daren't oppose him on this point. Agnes

must come home for a while. But the experiment won't succeed. I

daresay you think so too. But for all that I'm right, as time will

prove. A mother knows more about her own daughter than any one else,

and I tell you that Agnes is no more fitted for the world than I am

for a convent. I shall have to drag her about for a season or two. She

won't succeed, and she'll be wretchedly unhappy. I shall be put to any

amount of trouble and expense, that will be all.'

'And then?'

'I don't know. Even if I did give you up, I don't see what would be

gained. All I could do would be to ask you not to come to the house

any more.'

'That is nonsense.'

'Of course it is nonsense. Can I go back on my whole life? can I

change all my friends? If I did I should only collect more exactly

like them, and without knowing I was doing it. Lie low for a month or

so, and then pursue the same old way. With the best intentions in the

world we cannot change ourselves.' 'But you don't intend to give me

up, Olive?'

'Do you want me to, Reggie?'

'No, dearest, we've held together a long time--seven years--we cannot

give each other up.'

'We can't give each other up,' said Mrs. Lahens. 'It never shall be

broken off, unless you break it off.'

Lord Chadwick asked himself if he desired to break with her? He looked

at her, and thought that he had never seen her look so old; but he

could not imagine his life without her. Apart from her, there was

nothing for him. His name had been mixed up in questionable city

transactions; his wife had divorced him, and he was over forty...

Notwithstanding his title, he'd find it difficult to marry a girl with

money; he couldn't marry one without. Besides, he loved Olive as well

as a man could love a woman whose lover he has been for seven years.

... Mrs. Lahens looked at him, and wondered what there was in him that

attached her so firmly. They had once loved each other passionately.

All that was over now... But still she loved him. ... He was all she

had in the world. To live with her husband without Reggie! no, she

could not think of it. Even if she did, Agnes would profit nothing by

it. Every one knew of their _liaison_. No one talked about it any

more, it had been in a way accepted, and for them to separate would

only serve to set Mayfair gossiping again.

'I know I appear selfish,' she said; 'not to want to see my daughter

must seem selfish. But I am not selfish, Reggie. I've never been

selfish where you have been concerned, have I?'

'I at least can't accuse you of selfishness, Olive. You've always been

a good friend to me. There was my bankruptcy---'

'Do not speak of it. I only did for you what you would have done for

me. I have been very unlucky; I was cursed with a husband who was a

fool, and who lost all his money--no one can say he's in his right

mind. They say that I have driven him out of his mind, but that is not

so, you know that it is not so; I've not driven you out of your mind.

There never was such a fool as my husband. He has acted as stupidly

about his daughter as he did about his money. First he takes her away

from me--I'm not good enough for her, this house isn't good enough for

her; he shuts her up in a convent, and never has her home for fear she

should hear or see anything that was not pious and good. Then, when

she wants to become a nun, and her mind is made up, and her character

is formed, he insists that she shall come home, and that I shall give

up my lover and bring her into society. But not into the society that

comes to my house, but into some other society, some highly

respectable society that neither he nor I knows anything about. And to

make my task the more easy, he insists on living in a servant's room,

buying the butler's overcoat, and running down the street whistling

for cabs, and carrying my trunks on his shoulder. There never was such

madness; God knows how it will all end.'

She turned her head slightly when her husband entered the room, and,

without getting off the arm of Lord Chadwick's chair, said:

'Doesn't he look well in that suit of clothes, Reggie?'

The Major was a short man, shorter by nearly two inches than his wife

or Lord Chadwick. His hair had once been red; it was now faded, and

the tall forehead showed bald amid a slight gleaning. His beard and

moustaches were thick, unkempt, and full of grey hair. The nose was

small and aquiline, and the eyes, shallow and pale blue, wore a silly

and vacant stare. The skin was coloured everywhere alike, a sort of

conventional tone of flesh-colour seemed to have been poured over the

face, forehead, and neck. His short thick hands were covered with

reddish hair. They fidgeted at the trousers and waistcoat, too tightly

strained across his little round stomach; and he did not desist till

his wife said:

'I hope you will have finished dressing before our guests arrive.'

'Whom have you asked? Not the tall thin man who---'

'Why not?'

'You surely don't think he is a fit companion for Agnes?'

'Companion for Agnes! no; but I don't intend every one that comes here

to lunch as a companion for Agnes. I'm sick of hearing of that girl.

I've heard of nothing else for the last week--the people she should

meet--what we should say and not say before her. If we aren't good

enough for her she should have remained in the convent. But what

fault, may I ask, do you find with Moulton?'

'Only what you've told me.... Am I not right, Reggie?'

'Oh, Reggie will agree with you--he hates Moulton.'

'I don't like the man.'

'The truth is that he sent a note asking if he might come, and I knew

if I refused he'd have nothing to eat.... You ought to be able to

judge Moulton more fairly, for it is want of money that has reduced

him to his present position. He was born a gentleman, and his uncle

only allows him fifteen shillings a week. This pays for his lodging--

one room, which costs five shillings a week--another five shillings a

week goes for current expenses, a cup of tea in the morning, and a few

omnibus fares; the remaining five shillings goes towards his clothes.

So every day he finds himself face to face with the problem where he

shall lunch, where he shall dine. He's good-looking, women like him,

and any little present they make him is welcomed, I can assure you. He

said the other day, "Look at my boot, there's a hole in it; I shall be

laid up with a cold. You don't know what it is to be ill in a room for

which you pay five shillings a week." What could I do but to tell him

that he might order a pair at my shoemaker's?'

'And he ordered a pair that cost three pounds,' said Lord Chadwick.

'Yes; I did think that he might have chosen a cheaper pair. But you're

rather hard on him,' said Mrs. Lahens; 'he's not the only man in

London who takes money from women.'

'I wonder he doesn't go to Mashonaland or to Canada?' said the Major.

'If every one who could not make his living here went to Mashonaland

or Canada, the London drawing-rooms would be pretty empty.'

'You mean that for me, Olive,' said the Major. 'I would go to-morrow

to Mashonaland if I were as young as Moulton.'

At that moment a youngish-looking man, about five-and-thirty, came

into the room quickly. Notwithstanding the wintry weather he was clad

in a light grey summer suit; he wore a blue shirt and a blue linen

tie, neatly tied and pinned. Mrs. Lahens, the Major, and Reggie

glanced at the boots which had cost three pounds, and Mrs. Lahens

thought how carefully that grey summer suit was folded and laid away

in the tiny chest of drawers which stood next the wall by the little

window. Mr. Moulton was clean shaved. His features were long and

regular; a high Socratic forehead suggested an intelligence which his

conversation did not confirm. His manners were stagey, and there was a

hollow cordiality in the manner in which he said 'How do you do,' and

shook hands. Immediately his blue, superficial, glassy eyes were

turned to Mrs. Lahens; and he studied her figure in her new gown, and

whispered that he had never seen her looking better.

'So there he is, and in his new clothes. Curious little fellow he is,'

said Moulton, eyeing the Major. 'Did he offer much resistance? You

don't seem torn at all. Not a scratch.'

'I did all I could to dissuade him, but----'

'I know, suffering from daughter on the brain.... Tell me, shall we

see much of him? Will he come down every day to lunch, and what about

dinner?'

'I hope not, I think not... he has his typewriting to attend to.'

'At all events the mystery is cleared up. I don't think I ever was

believed when I said that I had once spoken to him on the stairs.'

'Do you hear that, Major? Mr. Moulton says that he doesn't think he

ever was believed when he said that he had once spoken to you on the

staircase. Major, do you hear?'

'Yes, dear, I hear. But I am talking to Reggie about Miss Lahens. By

the way, Mr. Moulton, my daughter, Miss Lahens, is coming home to-day,

so I hope that you'll be guarded in your conversation, and will say

nothing that a young girl may not hear.'

'I shall be very pleased to see Agnes again,' said Moulton. 'If I had

thought of it I would have read up the lives of the saints.'

'I beg, Mr. Moulton, that you do not speak disrespectfully of Miss

Lahens. Perhaps there is nothing in your conversation that is fit for

her to hear.'

Moulton looked at Mrs. Lahens, then taking in the situation, he said:

'If I have the pleasure of talking to Miss Lahens I shall confine my

conversation to those subjects with which she is familiar. I shall

acquit myself better than you, I think, Major; I have a sister who is

a nun. I know a good deal about convents.'

'I'm glad to hear it,' said the Major. 'I wanted you to know that my

daughter has been very strictly brought up.'

'My dear Major,' said Mrs. Lahens, 'you had better write on a piece of

paper "My daughter, Miss Lahens, comes home from school to-day, and my

guests at lunch are particularly requested to be guarded in their

conversation." You can put it up where every one can see it, then

there can be no mistake. The only disadvantage of this will be that at

the end of the week Agnes will be the talk of the town. If Lilian Dare

were to hear you she would--'

'But you haven't asked her?'

'Why not? she's received everywhere.'

'Not where there are young girls. You know how she got her money.'

'Oh yes, we've all heard that story,' said Mrs. Lahens, and before the

Major could reply the servant announced--

'Miss Lahens and Father White.'

'Who is Father White?' whispered Moulton.

'I haven't the least idea,' said Mrs. Lahens.