ONE:I know; it is wicked of me, she said. But I so much wanted to get on with my work. You are back early, arent you?
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ONE:
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FORE:"A gentleman was once leaving New York for a trip to Europe, and many of his friends gave him commissions to execute for them. Some were thoughtful enough to give him the money for the articles they wanted; but the majority only said, 'I'll pay you when you get back, and I know how much it comes to.' When he returned, he told them that a singular circumstance had happened in regard to the commissions. 'The day after I sailed,' said he, 'I was in my room arranging the lists of things I was to get for my friends, and I placed the papers in two piles; those that had the money with them I put in one pile, and the money on top; and those that had no money with them I put in another pile. The wind came in and set things flying all around the room. The papers that had the money on them were held down by it, but those that had no money to[Pg 240] keep them in place were carried out of the window and lost in the sea. And so you see how it is that the commissions that my friends gave me the money for are the only ones I have been able to execute.'
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FORE:He had grown to detest the time after dinner passed in the plushy, painted drawing-room. Hitherto, in all these years of increasing prosperity, during which the conscious effort of his brain had been directed to business and money-making, he had not objected after the work of the day to pass a quiescent hour or two before his early bedtime giving half an ear to his wifes babble, which, with her brain thickened with refreshment, always reached its flood-tide of voluble incoherence now, giving half an eye to Alice with her industrious{291} needle. All the time a vague simmer of mercantile meditation gently occupied him; his mind, like some kitchen fire with the damper pushed in, kept itself just alight, smouldered and burned low, and Alices needle was but like the bars of the grate, and his wifes prattle the mild rumble of water in the boiler. It was all domestic and normal, in accordance with the general destiny of prosperous men in middle age. Indeed, he was luckier in some respects than the average, for there had always been for him his secret garden, the hortus inclusus, into which neither his family nor his business interests ever entered. Now even that had been invaded, Norahs catalogue had become to him the most precious of his books: she was like sunshine in his secret garden or like a bitter wind, something, anyhow, that got between him and his garden beds, while here in the drawing-room in the domestic hour after dinner the fact of her made itself even more insistently felt, for she turned Lady Keelings vapidities, to which hitherto he had been impervious, into an active stinging irritation, and even poor Alices industrious needle and the ever-growing pattern of Maltese crosses on Mr Silverdales slippers was like some monotonous recurring drip of water that set his nerves on edge. This was a pretty state of mind, he told himself, for a hardheaded business man of fifty, and yet even as with all the force of resolution that was in him he tried to find something{292} in his wifes remarks that could awake a relevant reasonable reply, some rebellious consciousness in his brain would only concern itself with counting on the pink clock the hours that lay between the present moment and nine oclock next morning. And then the pink clock melodiously announced on the Westminster chime that it was half past ten, and Alice put her needle into the middle of the last Maltese cross, and Lady Keeling waddled across the room and tapped the barometer, which a marble Diana held in her chaste hand, to see if the weather promised well for the bazaar to-morrow. The evening was over, and there would not be another for the next twenty-four hours.I will promise to let you have twenty butlers on the day she lunches with us, he said. Come, get out, Emmeline, and take care how you walk. Theres something gone to your head. It may be champagne or it may be the Princess. I suspect its the Princess, and youre intoxicated. Go indoors, and sleep it off, and let me find you sober at dinner-time. Take my arm.
