Then,suddenlyallthatdreamcreaturehadvanished;hewasonhisfeet,withathumpingheart,speaking。
Soonhehadnotremors,onlyadimconsciousnessthathiswordssoundedstrange,andaqueericypleasureinflingingthemoutintothesilence。Roundhimthereseemednolongermen,onlymouthsandeyes。Andhehadenjoymentinthefeelingthatwiththesewordsofhishewasholdingthosehungrymouthsandeyesdumbandunmoving。
Thenheknewthathehadreachedtheendofwhathehadtosay,andsatdown,remainingmotionlessinthecentreofavarioussound;
staringatthebackoftheheadinfrontofhim,withhishandsclaspedroundhisknee。Andsoon,whenthatlittlefarawayvoicewasoncemorespeaking,hetookhishat,andglancingneithertorightnorleft,wentout。
Insteadofthesensationofreliefandwildelationwhichfillstheheartofthosewhohavetakenthefirstplunge,Miltounhadnothinginhisdeepdarkwellbutthewatersofbitterness。Intruth,withthedeliveryofthatspeechhehadbutpartedwithwhathadbeenasortofanodynetosuffering。Hehadonlyputthefinepointonhisconviction,ofhowvainwashiscareernowthathecouldnotshareitwithAudreyNoel。HewalkedslowlytowardstheTemple,alongtheriverside,wherethelampswerepalingintonothingnessbeforethatdailycelebrationofDivinity,themeetingofdarkandlight。
ForMiltounwasnotoneofthosewhotakethingslyingdown;hetookthingsdesperately,deeply,andwithrevolt。Hetookthemlikeariderridinghimself,plungingatthedigofhisownspurs,chafingandwincingatthecrueltugsofhisownbitt;bearinginhisfriendless,proudheartalltheburdenofstruggleswhichshallowerormoregenialnaturessharedwithothers。
Helookedhardlylesshaggard,walkinghome,thansomeofthosehomelessoneswhosleptnightlybytheriver,asthoughtheyknewthattolienearonewhocouldsoreadilygrantoblivion,alonecouldsavethemfromseekingthatconsolation。Hewasperhapsunhappierthanthey,whosespirits,atallevents,hadlongceasedtoworrythem,havingoozedoutfromtheirbodiesunderthefootofLife:
NowthatAudreyNoelwaslosttohim,herlovelinessandthatindescribablequalitywhichmadeherlovable,floatedbeforehim,theverytorture—flowersofabeautynevertobegrasped——yet,thathecouldgrasp,'ifheonlywould！Thatwastheheartandfervourofhissuffering。Tobegraspedifheonlywould！Hewassuffering,too,physicallyfromakindofslowfever,theresultofhiswettingonthedaywhenhelastsawher。Andthroughthatlatentfever,thingsandfeelings,likehissensationsintheHousebeforehisspeech,wereallasitweremuffledinahorribleway,asiftheyallcametohimwrappedinasortofflannelcoating,throughwhichhecouldnotcut。Andallthetimethereseemedtobewithinhimtwomenatmortalgripswithoneanother;themanoffaithindivinesanctionandauthority,onwhichallhisbeliefshadhithertohinged,andadesperatewarm—bloodedhungrycreature。Hewasverymiserable,cravingstrangelyforthesocietyofsomeonewhocouldunderstandwhathewasfeeling,。and,fromlonghabitofmakingnoconfidants,notknowinghowtosatisfythatcraving。
Itwasdawnwhenhereachedhisrooms;and,surethathewouldnotsleep,hedidnotevengotobed,butchangedhisclothes,madehimselfsomecoffee,andsatdownatthewindowwhichoverlookedthefloweredcourtyard。
InMiddleTempleHallaBallwasstillinprogress,thoughtheglamourfromitsChineselanternswasalreadydarkenedandgone。
Miltounsawamanandagirl,shelteredbyanoldfountain,sittingouttheirlastdance。Herheadhadsunkonherpartner'sshoulder;
theirlipswerejoined。Andtherefloateduptothewindowthescentofheliotrope,withthetuneofthewaltzthatthosetwoshouldhavebeendancing。Thiscouplesostealthilyenlaced,thegleamoftheirfurtivelyturnedeyes,thewhisperingoftheirlips,thatstonynichebelowthetwitteringsparrows,socunninglysoughtout——itwastheworldhehadabjured！Whenhelookedagain,they——likeavisionseen——hadstolenawayandgone;themusictoohadceased,therewasnoscentofheliotrope。Inthestonynichecrouchedastraycatwatchingthetwitteringsparrows。
Miltounwentout,and,turningintotheemptyStrand,walkedon——
withoutheedingwhere,tilltowardsfiveo'clockhefoundhimselfonPutneyBridge。
Herestedthere,leaningovertheparapet,lookingdownatthegreywater。Thesunwasjustbreakingthroughtheheathaze;earlywaggonswerepassing,andalreadymenwerecomingintowork。Towhatenddidtheriverwanderupanddown;andahumanriverflowacrossittwiceeveryday？Towhatendweremenandwomensuffering？
OfthefullcurrentofthislifeMiltouncouldnomoreseetheaim,thanthatofthewheelinggullsintheearlysunlight。
LeavingthebridgehemadetowardsBarnesCommon。Thenightwasstillensnaredthereonthegorsebushesgreywithcobwebsandstarrydewdrops。Hepassedatrampfamilystillsleeping,huddledalltogether。Eventhehomelesslayineachother'sarms！
>FromtheCommonheemergedontheroadnearthegatesofRavensham;
turninginthere,hefoundhiswaytothekitchengarden,andsatdownonabenchclosetotheraspberrybushes。Theywereprotectedfromthieves,butatMiltoun'sapproachtwoblackbirdsflusteredoutthroughthenettingandflewaway。
Hislongfigurerestingsomotionlessimpresseditselfontheeyesofagardener,whocausedareporttobecirculatedthathisyounglordshipwasinthefruitgarden。ItreachedtheearsofClifton,whohimselfcameouttoseewhatthismightmean。TheoldmantookhisstandinfrontofMiltounveryquietly。
"Youhavecometobreakfast,mylord？"
"Ifmygrandmotherwillhaveme,Clifton。"
"Iunderstoodyourlordshipwasspeakinglastnight。"
"Iwas。"
"YoufindtheHouseofCommonssatisfactory,Ihope。"
"Fairly,thankyou,Clifton。"
"Theyarenotwhattheywereinthegreatdaysofyourgrandfather,I
believe。Hehadaverygoodopinionofthem。Theyvary,nodoubt。"
"Temporamutantur。"
"Thatisso。Ifindquiteanewspirittowardspublicaffairs。Theha'pennyPress;onetakesitin,butonehardlyapproves。Ishallbeanxioustoreadyourspeech。Theysayafirstspeechisagreatstrain。"
"Itisrather。"
"Butyouhadnoreasontobeanxious。I'msureitwasbeautiful。"
Miltounsawthattheoldman'sthinsallowcheekshadflushedtoadeeporangebetweenhissnow—whitewhiskers。
"Ihavelookedforwardtothisday,"hestammered,"eversinceIknewyourlordship——twenty—eightyears。Itisthebeginning。"
"Ortheend,Clifton。"
Theoldman'sfacefellinalookofdeepandconcernedastonishment。
"No,no,"hesaid;"withyourantecedents,never。"
Miltountookhishand。
"Sorry,Clifton——didn'tmeantoshockyou。"
Andforaminuteneitherspoke,lookingattheirclaspedhandsasifsurprised。
"Wouldyourlordshiplikeabath——breakfastisstillateight。Icanprocureyouarazor。"
WhenMiltounenteredthebreakfastroom,hisgrandmother,withacopyoftheTimesinherhands,wasseatedbeforeagrapefruit,which,withashreddedwheatbiscuit,constitutedherfirstmeal。HerappearancehardlywarrantedBarbara'sdescriptionof'terriblywell';
intruthshelookedalittlewhite,asifshehadbeenfeelingtheheat。Buttherewasnolackofanimationinherlittlesteel—greyeyes,norofdecisioninhermanner。
"Isee,"shesaid,"thatyou'vetakenalineofyourown,Eustace。
I'venothingtosayagainstthat;infact,quitethecontrary。Butrememberthis,mydear,howeveryoumaychangeyoumustn'twobble。
Onlyonethingcountsinthatplace,hittingthesamenailontheheadwiththesamehammerallthetime。Youaren'tlookingatallwell。"
Miltoun,bendingtokissher,murmured:
"Thanks,I'mallright。"
"Nonsense,"repliedLadyCasterley。"Theydon'tlookafteryou。WasyourmotherintheHouse？"
"Idon'tthinkso。"
"Exactly。AndwhatisBarbaraabout？Sheoughttobeseeingtoyou。"
"BarbaraisdownwithUncleDennis。"
LadyCasterleysetherjaw;thenlookinghergrandsonthroughandthrough,said:
"Ishalltakeyoudowntherethisveryday。Ishallhavetheseatoyou。Whatdoyousay,Clifton？"
"Hislordshipdoeslookpale。"
"Havethecarriage,andwe'llgofromClaphamJunction。Thomascangoinandfetchyousomeclothes。Or,better,thoughIdislikethem,wecantelephonetoyourmotherforacar。It'sveryhotfortrains。
Arrangethat,please,Clifton！"
TothisprojectMiltounraisednoobjection。AndallthroughthedriveheremainedsunkinanindifferenceandlassitudewhichtoLadyCasterleyseemedinthehighestdegreeominous。Forlassitude,toher,wasthestrange,theunpardonable,state。Thelittlegreatlady——casketofthearistocraticprinciple——waspermeatedtotheverybackbonewiththeinstinctofartificialenergy,ofthatalertvigourwhichthosewhohavenothingsociallytohopeforareforcedtodevelop,lesttheyshoulddecayandbeagainobligedtohope。Tospeakhonesttruth,shecouldnotforbearanitchtorunsomesharpandforeignsubstanceintohergrandson,torousehimsomehow,forsheknewthereasonofhisstate,andwastemperamentallyoutofpatiencewithsuchacauseforbacksliding。Haditbeenanyotherofhergrandchildrenshewouldnothavehesitated,buttherewasthatinMiltounwhichheldevenLadyCasterleyincheck,andonlyonceduringthefourhoursoftraveldidsheattempttobreakdownhisreserve。
Shediditinamannerverysoftforher——washenotofalllivingthingsthehopeandprideofherheart？Tuckingherlittlethinsharphandunderhisarm,shesaidquietly:
"Mydear,don'tbroodoverit。Thatwillneverdo。"
ButMiltounremovedherhandgently,andlaiditbackonthedustrug,nordidheanswer,orshowothersignofhavingheard。
AndLadyCasterley,deeplywounded,pressedherfadedlipstogether,andsaidsharply:
"Slower,please,Frith！"
CHAPTERV
ItwastoBarbarathatMiltoununfolded,ifbutlittle,thetroubleofhisspirit,lyingthatsameafternoonunderaraggedtamariskhedgewiththetidefarout。HecouldneverhavedonethisiftherehadnotbeenbetweenthemtheaccidentalrevelationofthatnightatMonkland;noreventhenperhapshadhenotfeltinthisyoungsisterofhisthewarmthoflifeforwhichhewasyearning。InsuchamatterasloveBarbarawastheelderofthesetwo。For,besidesthemotherlyknowledgeoftheheartpeculiartomostwomen,shehadtheinherentwoman—of—the—worldlinesstobeexpectedofadaughterofLordandLadyValleys。Ifsheherselfwereindoubtastothestateofheraffections,itwasnotaswithMiltoun,onthescoreofthesensesandtheheart,butonthescoreofherspiritandcuriosity,whichCourtierhadawakenedandcausedtoflaptheirwingsalittle。
SheworriedoverMiltoun'sforlorncase;ithurthertootothinkofMrs。Noeleatingherheartoutinthatlonelycottage。Asisterso——
goodandearnestasAgathahadeverinclinedBarbaratoarebelliousviewofmorals,anddisinclinedheraltogethertoreligion。Andso,shefeltthatifthosetwocouldnotbehappyapart,theyshouldbehappytogether,inthenameofallthejoytherewasinlife！
Andwhileherbrotherlayfacetotheskyunderthetamarisks,shekepttryingtothinkofhowtoconsolehim,consciousthatshedidnotintheleastunderstandthewayhethoughtaboutthings。Overthefieldsbehind,thelarkswerehymningthepromiseoftheunripecorn;theforeshorewaspaintedallcolours,fromvividgreentomushroompink;bytheedgeofthebluesealittleblackfiguresstooped,gatheringsapphire。Theairsmelledsweetintheshadeofthetamarisk;therewasineffablepeace。AndBarbara,coveredbythenetworkofsunlight,couldnothelpimpatiencewithasufferingwhichseemedtohersocorrigiblebyaction。Atlastsheventured:
"Lifeisshort,Eusty！"
Miltoun'sanswer,givenwithoutmovement,startledher:
"Persuademethatitis,Babs,andI'llblessyou。Ifthesingingoftheselarksmeansnothing,ifthatblueupthereisamorassofourinvention,ifwearepettily,creepingonfurtheringnothing,ifthere'snopurposeinourlives,persuademeofit,forGod'ssake！"
Carriedsuddenlybeyondherdepth,Barbaracouldonlyputoutherhand,andsay:"Oh！don'ttakethingssohard！"
"Sinceyousaythatlifeisshort,"Miltounmuttered,withhissmile,"youshouldn'tspoilitbyfeelingpity！InolddayswewenttotheTowerforourconvictions。Wecanstandalittleprivateroasting,I
hope;orhasthesandrunoutofusaltogether？"
Stungbyhistone,Barbaraansweredinratherahardvoice:
"Whatwemustbear,wemust,Isuppose。Butwhyshouldwemaketrouble？That'swhatIcan'tstand！"
"Oprofoundwisdom！"
Barbaraflushed。
"IloveLife！"shesaid。
Thegalleonsofthewesteringsunwerealreadysailinginabroadgoldfleetstraightforthatforeshorewherethelittleblackstoopingfigureshadnotyetfinishedtheirtoil,thelarksstillsangovertheunripecorn——whenHarbinger,gallopingalongthesandsfromWhitewatertoSeaHouse,cameonthatsilentcouplewalkinghometodinner。
Itwouldnotbesafetosayofthisyoungmanthathereadilydiagnosedaspiritualatmosphere,butthiswasthelesshisdemerit,sinceeverythingfromhiscradleuphadconspiredtokeepthespiritualthermometerofhissurroundingsat60intheshade。Andthefactthathisownspiritualthermometerhadnowrunupsothatitthreatenedtoburstthebulb,renderedhimlesslikelythanevertoseewhatwashappeningwithotherpeople's。Yet,hedidnoticethatBarbarawaslookingpale,and——itseemed——sweeterthanever……Withhereldestbrotherhealwayssomehowfeltillatease。Hecouldnotexactlyaffordtodespiseanuncompromisingspiritinoneofhisownorder,buthewasnomoreimperviousthanotherstoMiltoun'scaustic,thinly—veiledcontemptforthecommonplace;andhavingafull—bloodedbeliefinhimself———usualwithmenoffinephysique,whoselotsaresocastthatthisbeliefcanneveroralmostneverbereallyshaken——hegreatlydislikedthefeelingofbeingalittlelookeddownon。Itwasanintenserelief,when,sayingthathewantedacertainmagazine,Miltounstrodeoffintothetown。
ToHarbinger,nolessthantoMiltounandBarbara,lastnighthadbeenbitterandrestless。Thesightofthatpaleswayingfigure,withthepartedlips,whirlingroundinCourtier'sarms,hadclungtohisvisioneversince,theBall。Duringhisownlastdancewithherhehadbeenalmostsavagelysilent;onlybyagreateffortrestraininghistonguefrommordantallusionstothat'prancing,red—
hairedfellow,'ashesecretlycalledthechampionoflostcauses。
Infact,hissensationsthereandsincehadbeenarevelation,orwouldhaveteenifhecouldhavestoodaparttoseethem。True,hehadgoneaboutnextdaywithhisusualcool,off—handmanner,becauseonenaturallydidnotletpeoplesee,butitwaswithsuchaninnerachingandrageofwantandjealousyastoreallymeritpity。Menofhisphysicallybig,ratherrushing,type,arethelasttopossesstheirsoulsinpatience。WalkinghomeaftertheBallhehaddeterminedtofollowherdowntothesea,whereshehadsaid,somaliciously;thatshewasgoing。Afterasecondalmostsleeplessnighthehadnolongeranyhesitation。Hemustseeher！Afterall,amanmightgotohisown'place'withimpunity;hedidnotcareifitwereapointedthingtodo……Pointed！Themorepointedthebetter！Therewasbeginningtoberousedinhimanuglystubbornnessofmaledetermination。Sheshouldnotescapehim！
Butnowthathewaswalkingatherside,allthatdeterminationandassurancemeltedtoperplexedhumility。Hemarchedalongbyhishorsewithhisheaddown,justfeelingtheacheofbeingsoclosetoherandyetsofar;angrywithhisownsilenceandawkwardness,almostangrywithherforherloveliness,andthepainitmadehimsuffer。Whentheyreachedthehouse,andshelefthimatthestable—
yard,sayingshewasgoingtogetsomeflowers,hejerkedthebeast'sbridleandsworeatitforitsslownessinenteringthestable。He,wasterrifiedthatshewouldbegonebeforehecouldgetintothegarden;yethalfafraidoffindingherthere。Butshewasstillpluckingcarnationsbytheboxhedgewhichledtotheconservatories。
Andassherosefromgatheringthoseblossoms,beforeheknewwhathewasdoing,Harbingerhadthrownhisarmaroundher,heldherasinavice,kissedherunmercifully。
Sheseemedtooffernoresistance,hersmoothcheeksgrowingwarmerandwarmer,evenherlipspassive;butsuddenlyherecoiled,andhisheartstoodstillathisownoutrageousdaring。Whathadhedone？
Hesawherleaningbackalmostburiedintheclippedboxhedge,andheardhersaywithasortoffaintmockery:"Well！"
Hewouldhaveflunghimselfdownonhiskneestoaskforpardonbutforthethoughtthatsomeonemightcome。Hemutteredhoarsely:"ByGod,Iwasmad！"andstoodgloweringinsullensuspensebetweenhardihoodandfear。Heheardhersay,quietly:
"Yes,youwere—rather。"
Thenseeingherputherhanduptoherlipsasifhehadhurtthem,hemutteredbrokenly:
"Forgiveme,Babs！"
Therewasafullminute'ssilencewhilehestoodthere,nolongerdaringtolookather,beatenalloverbyhisemotions。Then,withbewilderment,heheardhersay:
"Ididn'tmindit——foronce！"
Helookedupatthat。Howcouldshelovehim,andspeaksocoolly！
Howcouldshenotmind,ifshedidnotlovehim！Shewaspassingherhandsoverherfaceandneckandhair,repairingthedamageofhiskisses。
"Nowshallwegoin？"shesaid。
Harbingertookastepforward。
"Iloveyouso,"hesaid;"Iwillputmylifeinyourhands,andyoushallthrowitaway。"
Atthosewords,ofwhoseexactnaturehehadverylittleknowledge,hesawhersmile。
"IfIletyoucomewithinthreeyards,willyoubegood？"
Hebowed;and,insilence,theywalkedtowardsthehouse。
Dinnerthateveningwasastrange,uncomfortablemeal。Butitscomedy,toosubtlyplayedforMiltounandLordDennis,seemedtransparenttotheeyesofLadyCasterley;for,whenHarbingerhadsalliedforthtoridebackalongthesands,shetookhercandleandinvitedBarbaratoretire。Then,havingadmittedhergranddaughtertotheapartmentalwaysreservedforherself,andspeciallyfurnishedwithpracticallynothing,shesatdownoppositethattall,young,solidfigure,asitweretakingstockofit,andsaid:
"Soyouarecomingtoyoursenses,atallevents。Kissme！'
Barbara,stoopingtoperformthisrite,sawatearstealingdownthecarvedfinenose。Knowingthattonoticeitwouldbetoodreadful,sheraisedherself,andwenttothewindow。There,staringoutoverthedarkfieldsanddarksea,bythesideofwhichHarbingerwasridinghome,sheputherhanduptoher,lips,andthoughtforthehundredthtime:
"Sothat'swhatit'slike！"
CHAPTERVI
Threedaysafterhisfirst,andashepromisedhimself,hislastSocietyBall,CourtierreceivedanotefromAudreyNoel,sayingthatshehadleftMonklandforthepresent,andcomeuptoalittleflat——
ontheriversidenotfarfromWestminster。
WhenhemadehiswaytherethatsameJulyday,theHousesofParliamentwerebrightunderasunwhichwarmedallthegraveairemanatingfromtheircounselsofperfection:Courtierpassedbydubiously。Hisfeelingsinthepresenceofthosetowerswerealwaysalittlemixed。Therewasnotsomuchofthepoetinhimastocausehimtoseenothingthereatallsaveonlysamelinesagainstthesky,buttherewasenoughofthepoettomakehimlongtokicksomething;
andinthismoodhewendedhiswaytotheriverside。
Mrs。Noelwasnotathome,butsincethemaidinformedhimthatshewouldbeindirectly,hesatdowntowait。Herflat,whichwason—
thefirstfloor,overlookedtheriverandhadevidentlybeentakenfurnished,fortherewerevisiblemarksofarecentstrugglewithanEdwardiantastewhich,flushedfromtriumphoverVictorianism,hadfilledtheroomswithearlyGeorgianremains。Ontheonlydefinitevictory,arose—colouredwindowseatofgreatcomfortandlittleage,Courtiersatdown,andresignedhimselftodoingnothingwiththeeaseofanoldsoldier。
Totheprotectivefeelinghehadoncehadforaverygraceful,dark—
hairedchild,hejoinednotonlythechampioningpityofamanofwarmheartwatchingawomanindistress,buttheimpatienceofone,who,thoughtemperamentallyincapableoffeelingoppressedhimself,rebelledatsightofallformsoftyrannyaffectingothers。
Thesightofthegreytowers,stilljustvisible,underwhichMiltounandhisfathersat,annoyedhimdeeply;symbolizingtohim,Authority——foetohisdeathlessmistress,thesweet,invinciblelostcauseofLiberty。Butpresentlytheriver;bringingupinfloodtheunboundwaterthathadbathedeveryshore,touchedallsands,andseentherisingandfallingofeachmortalstar,sosoothedhimwithitssoundlesshymntoFreedom,thatAudreyNoelcominginwithherhandsfullofflowers,foundhimsleepingfirmly,withhismouthshut。
Noiselesslyputtingdowntheflowers,shewaitedforhisawakening。
Thatsanguinevisage,withitsprominentchin,flaringmoustaches,andeyebrowsraisedratherV—shapedabovehisclosedeyes,woreanexpressionofcheerydefianceeveninsleep;andperhapsnofaceinallLondonwassoutterlyitsobverse,asthatofthisdark,soft—
hairedwoman,delicate,passive,andtremulouswithpleasureatsightoftheonlypersonintheworldfromwhomshefeltshemightlearnofMiltoun,withoutlosingherself—respect。
Hewokeatlast,andmanifestingnodiscomfiture,said:
"Itwaslikeyounottowakeme。"
Theysatforalongwhiletalking,theriversidetrafficdrowsilyaccompanyingtheirvoices,theflowersdrowsilyfillingtheroomwithscent;andwhenCourtierleft,hisheartwassore。Shehadnotspokenofherselfatall,buthadtalkednearlyallthetimeofBarbara,praisingherbeautyandhighspirit;growingpaleonceortwice,andevidentlydrinkinginwithsecretavidityeveryallusiontoMiltoun。Clearly,herfeelingshadnotchanged,thoughshewouldnotshowthem！Courtier'spityforherbecamewell—nighviolent。
Itwasinsuchamood,mingledwithverydifferentfeelings,thathedonnedeveningclothesandsetouttoattendthelastgatheringoftheseasonatValleysHouse,afunctionwhich,heldsolateinJuly,wasperforcealmostperfectlypolitical。
Mountingthewideandshiningstaircase,thathadsooftenbaffledthearithmeticoflittleAnn,hewasremindedofapictureentitled'TheStepstoHeaven'inhisnurseryfour—and—thirtyyearsbefore。
Atthetopofthisstaircase,andsurroundedbyacquaintances,hecameonHarbinger,whonoddedcurtly。Theyoungman'shandsomefaceandfigureappearedtoCourtier'sjaundicedeyemoreobviouslysuccessfulandcomplacentthanever;sothathepassedhimbysardonically,andmanoeuvredhiswaytowardsLadyValleys,whomhecouldperceivestationed,likeageneral,inalittleclearedspace,wheretoandfroflowedconstantstreamsofpeople,liketheraysofastar。Shewaslookingherverybest,goingwellwithgreatandhighly—polishedspaces;andshegreetedCourtierwithaspecialcordialityoftone,whichhadinit,besideskindnesstowardsonewhomustbefeelingastrangebird,acertaindiplomaticquality,compoundedofdesire,asitwere,to'warnhimoff,'andfearofsayingsomethingthatmightirritateandmakehimmoredangerous。
Shehadheard,shesaid,thathewasboundforPersia;shehopedhewasnotgoingtotryandmakethingsmoredifficultthere;thenwiththewords:"Sogoodofyoutohavecome！"shebecameoncemorethecentreofherbattlefield。
Perceivingthathewasfinishedwith,Courtierstoodbackagainstawallandwatched。Thusisolated,hewaslikeasolitarycuckoocontemplatingthegyrationsofaflockofrooks。TheirmotionsseemedalittlemeaninglesstoonesofarremovedfromallthefetishesandshibbolethsofWestminster。HeheardthemdiscussingMiltoun'sspeech,therealsignificanceofwhichapparentlyhadonlyjustbeengrasped。Thewords'doctrinaire,''extremist,'cametohisears,togetherwiththesaying'anewforce。'Peoplewereevidentlypuzzled,disturbed,notpleased——asifsomestarnothithertoaccountedforhadsuddenlyappearedamongsttheproperconstellations。
SearchingthiscrowdforBarbara,Courtierhadallthetimeanuneasysenseofshame。Whatbusinesshadhetocomeamongstthesepeoplesostrangetohim,justforthesakeofseeingher！Whatbusinesshadhetobehankeringafterthisgirlatall,knowinginhisheartthathecouldnotstandtheatmosphereshelivedinforaweek,andthatshewasutterlyunsuitedforanyatmospherethathecouldgiveher;
tosaynothingoftheunlikelihoodthathecouldflutterthepulsesofonehalfhisage！
Avoice,behindhimsaid:"Mr。Courtier！"
Heturned,andtherewasBarbara。
"Iwanttotalktoyouaboutsomethingserious:Willyoucomeintothepicturegallery？"
WhenatlasttheywereclosetoafamilygroupofGeorgianCaradocs,andcouldasitwereshutoutthethrongsufficientlyforprivatespeech,shebegan:
"Miltoun'ssohorriblyunhappy;Idon'tknowwhattodoforhim:He'smakinghimselfill！"
Andshesuddenlylookedup,inCourtier'sface。Sheseemedtohimveryyoung,andtouching,atthatmoment。Hereyeshadagleamoffaithinthem,likeachild'seyes;asifshereliedonhimtostraightenoutthistangle,totellhernotonlyaboutMiltoun'strouble,butaboutalllife,itsmeaning,andthesecretofitshappiness:Andhesaidgently:
"WhatcanIdo？Mrs。NoelisinTown。Butthat'snogood,unless——"
Notknowinghowtofinishthissentence;hewassilent。
"IwishIwereMiltoun,"shemuttered。
Atthatquaintsaying,Courtierwashardputtoitnottotakeholdofthehandssoclosetohim。Thisflashofrebellioninherhadquickenedallhisblood。Butsheseemedtohaveseenwhathadpassedinhim,forhernextspeechwaschilly。