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She was a nice girl: the nicest girl that Horace had ever met
with, because her charming niceness included a faculty of being
really serious about serious things--and yet she could be
deliciously gay. In short, she was a revelation to Horace. And her
name was Ella, and she had come one year to spend some weeks with
Mrs Penkethman, the widowed headmistress of the Wesleyan Day
School, who was her cousin. Mrs Penkethman and Ella had been
holidaying together in France; their arrival in Bursley naturally
coincided with the reopening of the school in August for the
autumn term.
Now at this period Horace was rather lonely in his large house and
garden; for Sidney, in pursuit of health, had gone off on a six
weeks' cruise round Holland, Finland, Norway, and Sweden, in one
of those Atlantic liners which, translated like Enoch without
dying, become in their old age 'steam-yachts', with fine names apt
to lead to confusion with the private yacht of the Tsar of Russia.
Horace had offered him the trip, and Horace was also paying his
weekly salary as usual.
So Horace, who had always been friendly with Mrs Penkethman, grew
now more than ever friendly with Mrs Penkethman. And Mrs
Penkethman and Ella were inseparable. The few aristocrats left in
Bursley in September remarked that Horace knew what he was about,
as it was notorious that Ella had the most solid expectations. But
as a matter of fact Horace did not know what he was about, and he
never once thought of Ella's expectations. He was simply, as they
say in Bursley, knocked silly by Ella. He honestly imagined her to
be the wonderfullest woman on the earth's surface, with her dark
eyes and her expressive sympathetic gestures, and her alterations
of seriousness and gaiety. It astounded him that a girl of twenty-
one could have thought so deeply upon life as she had. The
inexplicable thing was that she looked up to HIM. She evidently
admired HIM. He wanted to tell her that she was quite wrong about
him, much too kind in her estimate of him--that really he was a
very ordinary man indeed. But another instinct prevented him from
thus undeceiving her.
And one Saturday afternoon, the season being late September,
Horace actually got those two women up to tea in his house and
garden. He had not dared to dream of such bliss. He had hesitated
long before asking them to come, and in asking them he had blushed
and stammered: the invitation had seemed to him to savour of
audacity. But, bless you! they had accepted with apparent ecstasy.
They gave him to think that they had genuinely wanted to come. And
they came extra-specially dressed--visions, lilies of the field.
And as the day was quite warm, tea was served in the garden, and
everybody admired the view; and there was no restraint, no
awkwardness. In particular Ella talked with an ease and a
distinction that enchanted Horace, and almost made him talk with
ease and distinction too. He said to himself that, seeing he had
only known her a month, he was getting on amazingly. He said to
himself that his good luck passed belief.
Then there was a sound of cab-wheels on the other side of the
garden-wall, and presently Horace heard the housekeeper
complimenting Sidney on his good looks, and Sidney asking the
housekeeper to lend him three shillings to pay the cabman. The
golden youth had returned without the slightest warning from his
cruise. The tea trio, at the lower end of the garden, saw him
standing in the porch, tanned, curly, graceful, and young. Horace
half rose, and then sat down again. Ella stared hard.
'That must be your brother,' she said.
'Yes, that's Sid,' Horace answered; and then, calling out loudly:
'Come down here, Sid, and tell them to bring another cup and
saucer.'
'Right you are, old man,' Sidney shouted. 'You see I'm back. What!
Mrs Penkethman, is that you?' He came down the central path of the
garden like a Narcissus.
'He DOES look delicate,' said Ella under her breath to Horace.
Tears came to her eyes.
Naturally Ella knew all about Sidney. She enjoyed the entire
confidence of Mrs Penkethman, and what Mrs Penkethman didn't know
of the private history of the upper classes in Bursley did not
amount to very much.
These were nearly the last words that Ella spoke to Horace that
afternoon. The introduction was made, and Sidney slipped into the
party as comfortably as he slipped into everything, like a candle
slipping into a socket. But nevertheless Ella talked no more. She
just stared at Sidney, and listened to him. Horace was proud that
Sidney had made such an impression on her; he was glad that she
showed no aversion to Sidney, because, in the event of Horace's
marriage, where would Sidney live, if not with Horace and Horace's
wife? Still, he could have wished that Ella would continue to
display her conversational powers.
Presently, Sidney lighted a cigarette. He was of those young men
whose delicate mouths seem to have been fashioned for the nice
conduct of a cigarette. And he had a way of blowing out the smoke
that secretly ravished every feminine beholder. Horace still held
to his boyhood's principles; but he envied Sidney a little.
At the conclusion of the festivity these two women naturally could
not be permitted to walk home alone. And, naturally, also, the
four could not walk abreast on the narrow pavements. Horace went
first with Mrs Penkethman. He was mad with anxiety to appropriate
Ella, but he dared not. It would not have been quite correct; it
would have been, as they say in Bursley, too thick. Besides, there
was the question of age. Horace was over thirty, and Mrs
Penkethman was also--over thirty; whereas Sidney was twenty-one,
and so was Ella. Hence Sidney walked behind with Ella, and the
procession started in silence. Horace did not look round too
often--that would not have been quite proper--but whenever he did
look round the other couple had lagged farther and farther behind,
and Ella seemed perfectly to have recovered her speech. At length
he looked round, and lo! they had not turned the last corner; and
they arrived at Mrs Penkethman's cottage at Hillport a quarter of
an hour after their elders.
Read next: PART I - The Lion's Share: CHAPTER IV
Read previous: PART I - The Lion's Share: CHAPTER II
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