A MORNING DISCUSSION.
ON DEAFNESS--ESCAPES--BUTTONHOLED--A DISCUSSION--MORNING LOST--RAGE
--DESPAIR.
"Deaf people are very happy," says Boodels, thoughtfully.
"Perhaps," replies the Professor of Scientific Economy; "a deaf person
can gain no information from conversation."
"Who does?" asks Bella, pertly.
"Who finds mushrooms in a field?" asks Chilvern, who has been engaged in
this lately.
"Give it up," says Milburd. That's the worst of Milburd, when a
conversation is beginning to promise some results, he nips it in the bud
with the frost of his nonsense.
Bella asks what Mr. Chilvern was going to say. He has nearly
forgotten, but recalls it to his mind, on Cazell repeating the word
mushrooms.
"Ah, yes," says Chilvern, evidently feeling that the brilliancy of his
simile has been taken off by the interruption. "I was going to say _a
propos_ of Miss Bella's remark about no one gaining any information from
conversation----"
"I didn't say _that_, Mr. Chilvern."
No, of course not. We all side with Miss Bella.
Chilvern nowhere. "Ah, well," he says, "I thought you did."
"And if I had?" asks Miss Bella, triumphantly.
"Eh!--well, if you _had_--" Chilvern meditates, and then answers, "--if
you had, why then I was going to say that ...." here he breaks off and
finishes, "--well, it doesn't matter now, but it _was_ very good when I
first thought of it."
He disappears, _i.e._, from a conversational point of view, in our
laughter. He is extinguished.
"What's he saying?" asks Mrs. Boodels.
Milburd takes up the trumpet. "He says," shouts Milburd, it being quite
unnecessary to shout, "that he's a very clever fellow."
"Ah," says Mrs. Boodels. "Mr. Chilvern's always joking."
"I never said anything of the sort," says the injured Chilvern to her,
defending himself through the ear-trumpet.
"Ah," observes Mrs. Boodels, perfectly satisfied. "I was sure he never
could have said that." Then she considers for a few seconds. After this
she remarks, "Cleverness, is not one of his strong points."
Whereupon she smiles amiably. Chilvern walks to the window.
"We were saying," says the Professor, who evidently has a whole
three-volume lecture ready for us, "that deaf people are happy. Now I
controvert that opinion. To be deaf, is not a blessing."
"Then," says Milburd, "a person who is deaf, is not a blessed old man,
or old woman, as the case may be."
"You misapprehend me, my dear Milburd. What I would say about deafness,
is this--" (_exit BELLA, quietly_,)--"is this--that the loss of the
sense of hearing----"
"Is seldom the loss of hearing sense," interrupts Boodels, at the door.
[_Exit BOODELS._
"To a certain extent," continues the Professor, who has Milburd, now, as
it were, in his grasp. "Boodels, although putting it lightly, was right.
Sense is uncommon--"
"'Specially common sense," I observe. Being my first remark for some
time. But I like the Professor; and his philosophic views have an
interest for me that they evidently do not possess for natures which
will be always butterflying about.
"You are right," says the Professor turning to me, whereupon Milburd
rises quietly, and gets to the door. (_Exit MILBURD._) "But common
sense, though, I admit, wrongly designated, does not convey to us a
positive pleasure. The question, which we are considering--namely,
whether to be deaf, is a happiness or not--should be treated in the
Socratic method, and the whole reasoning reduced to the simplest
syllogisms."
Through the window, I see Bella going out with Milburd. Adelaide is with
Boodels. Chilvern is pointing at me: they are all laughing. I smile _to_
them, and at them, as much as to say, "Bless you! I'm with you in
spirit, but the Professor has my body." Byrton I see meeting them. He
has his driving coat on. Hang it, they're going for some excursion
without me.
_Thoughts while the Professor is talking on the pleasures of
deafness._--Where are they going to? Why didn't they tell me? I think
Bella _might_ have given me some notion. If she's with Milburd, won't he
make fun of _me_? Is he trying to cut me out, or not? If "yes," it's
deuced unfair of him. Bella doesn't look back, or make any sign to me to
come. If I joined them now, should I be _de trop_? No. How can I? It's
all _our_ party generally. They disappear into the shrubbery.
Professor suddenly asks me, "That _you'll_ admit, I suppose."
_Happy Thought._--(As I haven't heard a single word of what he's been
saying, to reply guardedly), "Well, to a certain extent, perhaps--but--"
then I pause, and frown, as if considering it, whatever it is.
The Professor is lost in amazement. "But," he exclaims, "you _must_
admit _that_. By what theory of approximation can you show that we do
not attain to such perfectibility of number; unless you would say, as I
_have_ heard advanced by the Budengen school, that the expression is but
a formula adapted to our human experience."
I wonder to myself what point he is arguing with me. His subject was
Deafness.
_Happy Thought._--(In order to find out where he's got to in his
lecture, ask him). "Yes, but how does this tell upon Deafness."
"I will show you; but it is impossible to discuss conclusions unless we
settle our premisses." [I hear the trap in the stable yard and Byrton
woa-woaing. Bother!] "Will you bring some deep objection to a premiss
which is fundamental ...."
I beg his pardon, which premiss?
_Happy Thought._--Better find out what he _is_ talking about, then
differ from him point blank, and leave the room.
_Happy Thought._--Pair off. Same idea as that excellent parliamentary
arrangement, when you agree to differ with another member, for a whole
session, on every question, and then go away and enjoy yourself.
"The premiss," repeats the Professor, "that you would not admit just
now. I do not say," he adds--[I hear the wheels. Can I jump up and say,
"Excuse me!" and run out. I could if I was a young lady, or an elderly
one. But a man can't do it, specially as President, or Host, without
being rude]--"that you had not good grounds, but what are those
grounds?" Here he plants his _binocle_ on his nose, leans back and
stares at me.
Good Heavens! If I hadn't differed from him, or, I mean, if I'd only
understood what the----
_Happy Thought._--(_To ask seriously_), "Re-state, exactly, the premiss
I disputed." [I'm sure to catch a glimpse of the trap and horses as they
drive past the lake. Hang the Professor!]
"Simply," says he, "in putting the first premiss, I used the old
formula, viz., that the point in question was as clear as that two and
two make four."
"Good Heavens! have I been disputing _that_ with you?" I almost shout.
"What else?" he asks, astonished.
"Why ... I ..." I really cannot speak, I am so annoyed. I've lost a
whole morning, and whole day, perhaps, and a jolly party,
and--and--and--
"What's the matter?" asks Mrs. Boodels, handing her instrument of
torture to the Professor. "What does he say?"
"He says--" commences the Professor ....
_Je me sauve!_ (_Exit myself, hurriedly._) I rush to the stable.
"James! Where are they gone?"
"They said, sir, as they were gone to the meet. 'Ounds is out near
'ere."
[Illustration: "GONE TO THE MEET."]