Chance - A Tale in Two Parts

inded little man recognized that I had some right to information if I insisted on it. A

pocket), but had told him all about the contents. It was not at all what it should have been even if the girl had wished to affirm her right to disregard the feelings of all the world. Her own had been trampled in th

," I said, "if only no bigger than the palm of my han

Such a disposition was enough, his wife had pointed out to him, to alarm one for the future, had all the circumstances of that preposterous project been as satisfactory as in fact they were not. Other parts of the letter seemed to have a chall

sted on devoting all her spare time to the study of the trial. She had been looking up files of old newspapers, and working herself up into a state of indignation with what she called the injustice and the hypocrisy of the prosecution. Her father, Fyn

pose that since the days of his childhood, when surely he was taken to see the Tower, he had been once east of Temple Bar. He looked about him sullenly; and when I pointed out in the distance the rounded front

ed quietly as we approached that unattractive building. "No man will believ

n very thoroughly convinced indeed. "It may have been the othe

ed that he was anxious to get his mission over as quickly as possible. He barely gave himself time to shake hands with me and made a rush at

he would be shocked at finding me there, would consider my conduct incorrect, conceivably treat me with contempt. I walked off a few paces. Perhaps it would be possible to read something on Fyne's face as he came out; and, if necessary, I could

good form and trimmed with a bunch of pale roses which had caught my eye. The whole figure seemed familiar. Of course! Flora de Barral. She was making for the hotel, she was going in. And Fyne was with Captain Anthony! To meet him could not be pleasant for her. I wished to save her from the awkwardness, and as I hesitated what

ar enough. "Perhaps you would like to know that Mr. F

ion extinguished the imbecile grin of which I was conscious. I raised my hat. She responded with a slow inclinat

s moment at the door here . . . " The girl regarded me with darkening eyes . . . "Mrs. Fyne did not come with her husband," I went on, then

imagine she was not much disconcerted by this devel

It had a transparent vitality and at that particular moment the faintest possible rosy tinge, the merest suspicion of colour; an equivalent,

anced at the hotel door quickly, and moved off a few steps to a position where she could watch the entrance without being seen. I followed her. At th

er. I had only heard of it. She was a l

rs. Fyne-was so great that they would have shared it with anybody almost-not

not their friend. I am onl

ess so than her husband-and even less than myself. Mrs. Fyne was a very self-possessed person which nothing could st

on into their head

But it was much more vividly in my head since I had s

me with extreme att

called it to the

told them that you were saved by me. My shout checked you . . . " She moved her h

r. She wants to persuade herself that she had never known such an ugly and poignant min

The mouth looked very red in the white face peeping from under the veil, the little pointed chin had in its form something a

ved very fa

believed y

e at once. Mrs. Fyne'

er it was a smile or a ferocious baring of little even teeth. The rest of the f

it. I went up there for-for what you thought I was going to do. Yes. I climbed two fences. I did not mean to leave anything to

y other kind of hesitation. One reaches a point, she said with appalling youthful simplicity, where nothing that concerns one matters any longer.

en the pines charging upon her and leaping as high as her waist. She commanded, "Go away. Go home." She even picked up from the ground a bit of a broken branch and threw it at him. At this his delight knew no bounds; his rushes became faster, his yapping louder; he seemed to be having the time of his life. She was convinced that the moment she threw herself down he would spring over after her as if it were part of t

tive stroke in a game. And I had destroyed it. She was no longer in proper form for the act. She was not very much annoyed. Next day would do. She would have to slip away without attracting the notice of the dog. She thought of the necessity

hurt me any more. Oh yes. I would have gone up, but I felt suddenly so tired. So tired. And then you were there. I d

rab brick walls, of grey pavement, of muddy roadway rumbling dismally with loaded carts and vans lost itself in the distance, imposing and shabby in its spacious meanness of aspect, in its immeasurable poverty of forms, of colouring, of life-under a harsh, unconcerned s

was silent for

you thought

sion of informed innocence; and again her white cheeks took

That was enough. I remembered what I should never have forgotten.

! Captain Anthony." The faint flush of warm life left her face. I subdued my v

o one could say that I was inimical to that girl. But there you are! Explain it as you may, in this world the friend

o mine in an effect of candour which on the same principle (of the d

hand in a worn brown glove as much as to say she could not

ty . . . "No right at all," I continued, "but just interest. Mrs. Fyne-it's too

. It could not have been a recent gift. Close-fitting and black, with heliotrope silk facings under a figured net, it looked far from new, just on this side of shabbiness; in fact, it accentu

ke for the job, beating about the bush and only puzzling Captain Anthony, the providential man, who, if he expected the girl to appear at any moment, must have been on tenterhooks all the time, and beside himself

I could not doubt. The presence of the girl there on the pavement b

ng comic too in the whole situation, in the poor girl and myself waiting together on the broad pavement at a corner public-house for the issue of Fyne's ridiculous mission. But the comic w

of a young girl I always become convinced that the dreams of sentiment-like the consoling m

he cottage. In the evening. I knew that late train. He probably walked from the station. The evening would be well advanced. I could almost see a dark indistinct figure opening the wicket gate of the garden. Where was she? Did she see him enter? Was she somewhere near by and did she hear without the slightest premonition his chanc

e more, this time intentionally. A tentative, uncertain intimacy was springing up b

g to see Mr. Fyne come out. That wa

I added meaningly. "I have said it to them both

e?" she

nversation w

they told you

it. Was there anything more to disclose-some other misery, some other deception of which that girl had been a victim? It seemed hardly probable. It was not even easy to imagine. What struck me most was her-I suppose I must call it-composur

at peculiar timidity before women which often enough is found in conjunction with chivalrous instincts, with a great need for affection and great stability of feelings. Such men are easily moved. At the least encouragement they go forward with the eagerness, with the recklessness of starvation. This accounted for the

ion, in an unsmiling sombre stream not made up of lives but of mere unconsidered existences whose joys, struggles, thoughts, sorrows and their very hopes were miserable, glamourless, and of no account in the world. And when one thought of their reality to themselves one's hear

bject between us to lend more weight and more uneasiness to our silence. The subject of marriage. I use the word not so much in reference to the ceremony itself (I had no doubt of this, Captain Anthony being a decent fellow) or in view of the social institution in general, as to which I have no opinion, but in regard to the human relation. The first two views are not particularly interesting. The ceremony, I suppose, is adequate; the institution, I dare say, is useful or it would not have endured. But the

ying enormous piled-up loads advanced swaying like mountains. It was as if the whole world existed only f

passionless and crushing uproar. She raised her eyes for a moment. No, she was not. Not very. She had

point-blank, and I could not think of any effective circumlocution. It occurred to me too that she might conceivably know nothing of it herself-I mean by reflection. That young woman had

re outside all conventions. They would be as untrammelled in a sense as the first man and the first woman. The trouble was that I could not imagine anything about Flora de Barral and the brother of Mrs. Fyne. Or, if you like, I could imagine anything which comes practically to the same thing. Darkness and chaos are first cousins. I should have liked to ask the girl for a word which

n at last and glad of the o

morning. Did you say you d

him. Is he anythin

ich astonished me. "Oh! Mrs. Fyne," she exclaimed, recollecting

g of weary footsteps on the flagstones. The sunshine falling on the grime of surfaces, on the poverty of tones and forms seemed of an i

say you have forgot

ndered what could have been the images occupying her brain at this

with loose rods of iron passing slowly very near us. "I wasn't trusted so far." And remembering Mr

nly thing which makes it supportable for a while is curiosity. You smile? Ah, but it is so, or else people would be sent to the rightabout at the second sentence. How many sympathetic souls can you reckon on in the world? One in ten, one in a hundred-in a thousand-in ten thousand? Ah! What a sell these confessions are! What a horrible sell! You seek sympathy, and all you get is the most evanescent sense of relief-if you

lamation short by asking what answer Flora de Barral had given to his question. "Did the poor gi

shook h

arked that it would have been better if she had simply announced the fact

" She looked up at me and added meaning

irst meeting at the quarry. Almost a different person from the defian

ible of you to get away fro

h something of th

. I was concerned for that vile little beast of a dog. No! It was the idea of-of doing away

og. He isn't really a bad little dog."

of myself. This was mean. It was cruel too.

*

hanged h

arral's religion under the care of the distinguished governess could have been nothing but outward formality. Remorse in the sense of gnawing shame and unavailing regret is only understandable to me when some wrong had been done to a fellow-creature. But why she, that girl who existed on sufferance, so to speak-why she should writhe inwardly with remorse because she had once thought of getting rid of a life which was nothing in every respect but a curse-that I could not understand. I thought it was very likely some obscure influence of common forms of speech, some traditional or

ted for there,

ng about you will hardly believe that I caught myself grinning down at that demure litt

You are a determined young person

ring; a slight droop of her head perhaps-a me

y. "I was walking along the road-you know, the road.

rtainly, her head was down-she had put it down) gave me a thrill; for indeed I

d. "You were goin

ness worlds asunder from tragic issues; then glided on . . . "Wh

e dilated pupils within the rings of sombre blue. It was-how shall I say it?-a night effect when you seem to see vague shapes and don't know what reality you may come upon at any time. Then she lowe

nthony joined

crossed to my side and went on with me. He had his pipe

s she spoke) gave me a slight shudder. She r

lking together be

"That day he had said 'Good morning' to me when we met at breakfast two hours before. A

He had been observing her. I felt certain also tha

t herself out much for us. We had better keep each other company. I have read every book there is in that cottage.' I wal

gid with attention. It isn't every day that one culls such a volunteered tale on a girl's lips. The ugly street-nois

have him there, wal

fore. Was he a man for a coup-de-foudre, the lightning stroke of love? I don't think so. That sort of susceptibility is luckily rare. A world of inflammable lovers of the Romeo and Juliet type would very soon end in barbarism and misery. But it is a fact that in every man (not in every woman) there lives a lover; a lover who is called out in all h

ises of head it suggested tragic sorrow. Or it might have been her wavy hair. Or even just that pointed chin stuck out a little, resentful and not particularly distinguished, doing away with the mysterious aloofness of her fr

men, I mean really masculine men, those whose generations have evolved an ideal woman, are often very timid. Who wouldn't be before the ideal? It's your sentimental trifl

man might have been called heroic if it had not been so simple. Whether policy, diplomacy, simplicity, or just in

yed with me for giving you my company u

ral what answer she

place where you were sitting by the roadside that day. I began to wonder what I should do. After we reached the top Captain Anthony said that he had not been for a walk with a lady for years and years-almost since he was a boy. We h

him to leave you?" I

t stumbled on straight along the road. Captain Anthony told me that the family-some relations of his mother-he used to know in Liverpool was broken up now, and he had never made any friends since. All gone their differe

onished him not a

re. Flora de Barral told me all this. She could see him through her tears, blurred to a mere shadow on the white road, and then again becoming

herself crying. In fact, she was not capable of any effort. Suddenly he advanced two steps, stooped, caught hold of her hands lying on her lap and pulled her up to her feet; she found herself standing close to him almo

y. After she had gone more than half way she turned her head for the first time. Keeping five feet or so behind, Captain Anthony was following her with an air of extreme interest. Interest or eagerness. At any rate she c

ed to disregard this sensation. But she was not angry with him now. It wasn't worth while. She was thankful that he had the sense not to ask questions as to this crying.

yone the blues. His sister scribbled all day. It was positively unkind. He alluded to his nieces as rude, selfish monkeys, without either feelings or manners. And he went on to talk about his ship being laid up for a month

pale cheeks, with darkened eyelids and eyes scalded with hot tears, he went on speaking of himself as a confirmed enemy of life on shore-a perfect terror to a simple man

But it must have appealed straight to that bruised and battered young soul. Still shrinking from his nearness she had ended by listen

proper, I suppose, but she has no use for me. There you have your shore people. I quite understand anybody crying.

d two together. After a pause he said simply: "When I first came here I thought

poke for the

is my bes

or bitterness, but added with conviction: "That show

gain as though a long silent walk had not intervene

he had said seemed somehow to have a special meaning under its obvious conversational

althy girl under her frail appearance, and fast walking and what I may call relief-crying (there are many kinds of crying) making one hungry, she made a good meal. It was Captain Anthony who had no appetite. His sister commented on it in a curt, businesslike manner, and the eldest of his delightful nieces said mockingly: "You have been taking too much exercise this morning, Uncle Roderick." The mild Uncle Roderick turne

told me this, I didn't of course ask her how it was she was there. Probably she could not have told me how it was she was there

his pocket and called out "Good morning, Miss Smith" in a tone of amazing happiness. She, with one foot in life and the other in a nightmare, was at the same time inert and unstable, and ver

nothing; he only unlatched the gate in silence, grasp

oy in his eyes which frightened her. "You are not a princess in disguise," he said with an unexpected laugh she found blood-curdling. "And that's all I care for. You had better understa

her misery was his opportunity and he rejoiced while the tenderest pity seemed to flood his whole being. He pointed out to her that she knew who he was. He was Mrs

hrough. It was obvious the world had been using her ill. And even as he spoke with indignation the very marks and stamp of this ill-usage of which he was so certain seemed to add to the inexplicable attraction he felt for h

You told me you had no friends. Neither have I. Nobody ever cared for me as far as I can remember. Perhaps yo

ext step were bound to find the void. She reached the gate all right, got out, and, once on the road, discovered that she had not the courage to look back. The rest of that day she spent with the Fyne girls who gave her to understand that she was a slow and unprofitable person. Long after tea, nearly at d

ve unde

d at him

ve you," h

er head the

e?" he asked in a lo

she answered in a very q

ond measure, as he well might have bee

it? It's my affair, isn't it? You dare say that

e was able to say something which she felt was true. For the last few days she had felt he

ing nearer, sounding affected in the peace of the pa

an't. They have done something to you. Something's crushed your pluck. You can't face a man-that's what it is. What made you like this? Where do you come from? Yo

e felt certain that he was threatening her and calling her names. She was no stranger to abuse, as we know, but there seemed to be a particular kind of ferocity in this which was new to her. She began to tremble. The especially terrifying thing was that she could not make out the nature of these awful menaces and names. Not a word. Yet it was not the

ly, and, without raising hi

cheeks always so white as if you had seen something . . . Don't speak. I love it . . . No use! And you really think that I can now go to sea for a year or more, to the other side of the world somewhere, leaving you beh

for a while, then asked in a totally c

tand me then

eady herself. "I am not

e fields calling to each other, thin and clear. He muttered:

dy else, of someone who has n

nst the wooden support of the porch. And as she stood still, surprised by

y sight-I thought you sa

lorn that she was inspired to say: "No one has ever loved

ost, and she did not shrink; but Mrs. Fy

omestic autocrat) that it did arrest her for a moment, long enough to hear him say that he could not be left like this to puzzle over her nonsense all night. She was to slip down again into the garden later on, as

, holding her breath in the darkness of the living-room, she heard her best friend say:

ul and humiliating explanation. She imagined him full of his mysterious ferocity. To her great surprise, Anthony's

tisfied-and not muc

eared, because she was the financier de Barral's daughter and also condemned to a degrading sort of poverty through the action of treacherous men who had turned upon her father in his hour of need. And she thought with the tenderest possible affection of that upright figure buttoned up in a long frock-coat, soft-voiced a

the course of odious years, flamed up into an access of panic, that sort of headlong panic which had already driven her out twice to the top of the cliff-like q

nd the mood of that man clearly. He was violent. But she had gone beyond the point where things matter. What would he think of her coming down to him-as he would naturally suppose. And even that didn't matter. He could not despise her more

hought," I excl

e thought came into her head. This makes one shudder at the mysterious ways girls acquire knowledge. For this was a thought, wild enough, I admit, but which could only have c

re, of cour

pped outside the porch. He was very still. It was as though h

t brought to that nook of the country, I could imagine them having the feeling of being the only two people on the wide earth. A row of six or seven lofty

you very much te

ore she said, raising her eye

to range themselves in a row within ten feet of us against the front of the pub

is way a littl

ery many, including everything she had so unexpectedly told me of her story. No, not so very many. And now it seemed as though there would be no more. No! I could expect no more. The confidence was wonderful enough in its nature as far as it went, and perhaps not to have been expected from any other girl under the

the same when I made my attemp

up that walk you

en water. And for a moment I understood the desire of that man to whom the sea and sky of his solitary life had appeared suddenly incomplete without that glance which seemed to belong to them both. H

ny behave to me as he had behaved. I haven't. I haven't. It isn't my doing. It isn't my fault-if she likes to put it in that way. But she, with her ideas, ought to understand that I couldn't, that I

lanted in her unlucky breast a lasting doubt, an ine

t to be fair you must trust a

. I tried to take a light tone again, and yet it seemed impos

not be expected to throw away your chance of life simply that she m

while Captain Anthony was-was speaking to

her life, and not only of her life but of the life of the man who was s

an-de

ide the cottage, he really stood between you and that

was not for me. Oh no! It was not for me that I-It was not fear!

g the parasol slightly to

ench, Miss de B

but without showing any surprise at the ques

ain Anthony is what the French call un galant homme. I s

brim of her hat) was suddenly altered into a li

's myself," she said without a tremor

the words, I hesitated for a moment what to sa

ot what you wan

oing to the heart of things. Then raising her head and gazing wistfully across the stree

een most

f priceless. I mean a girl of our civilization which has established a dithyrambic phraseology for the expression of love. A man in love will accept any convention exalting the object of his passion and in this indirect way his passion itself. In what way the captain of the ship Ferndale gave proofs of l

deep motionless eyes rest on the stream

have expected you here, at this spot, before this hotel! I certainly never . . . You see

remonstrated, rather annoyed at the invidious position she was forcing on me in a sense. "It's true that I was the only pe

hat I have seen the sea wear such an expression on one or two occasions shortly before sunrise on a calm, fresh day. She said as if meditat

. And then remembering little Fyne stuck upstairs for an unconscionable time, enough to blurt out everything he ever knew in his life, I reflected that he would assume naturally that Captain Anthony had n

gly. "It's most unlikely.

n in that precise demure tone, "when I came down

ld. Men are so co

reature. Gentleness in passion! What could have been more seductive to the scared, starved heart of that girl? Perhaps had he been violent, she might have told him that what she came down to keep was the tryst of

y unused to smiling, at my cheap jocularity. Then she said

want him

. Let him ever remain under his misapprehensi

ut she was, I believe, too simple to unders

is exactly what I wanted to ask you for. I wanted to ask you if you ever meet Captain Anthony-by any chance-anyw

ck at the supposition. "Why should I? What

so dishonourably that she had no notion even of what mere decency of feeling is like. It was

promise. So I assured her that she

on Captain Anthony," I added with

ravity had in it something acute, perhaps because of that c

you to believe that if I am here, like th

ous gaze became doubtful. "I do," I insisted. "I understan

r eyes slowly,

me you very much-though it seemed rather an excessive step. I wonder now

ed with feeling. "I am ashamed." And, dropping her head, sh

," I said. "And surely you are not afraid of the s

ith a ruddy complexion and long, perfectly white hair. He used to take her on his knee, and

ed silent

ious to see the

l more so that I could no

know," sh

ted, so sudden. And she had nothing to fall back upon, no experience but such as to shake her belief in every human being.

who must be growing extr

sed simply, rousing herself. "I h

the town. It had grown intolerable to her restlessness. The mere thought of

f yesterday, but Captain Anthony would not have minded. He told

gentleness and generosity, sitting up to his neck in ship's accounts amused me. "I am sure he would not have

ieve yet," she mu

but had to change my tone at once. "You had better

*

wn one street while I hurried on to meet Fyne coming up the other at his efficient pedestrian gait. My object was to stop him getting as fa

o!" I

u here! You don't mean to say

unexpected business in the neighbourhood, and

s de Barral (she had moved out of sight) could not possibly approach the hotel door as long as we remained where we were I proposed that we should wait for the car on the other side of the street. He obeyed rather the s

of the way and up on the curbstone with a purely instinctive precision; his mind had nothing to do with his movements. In th

ver believe!

. But I thought there was some misapprehension in the first statement he shot out at me without loss of time, that Captain Anthony had been glad to see him. It w

Fyne impressively in his effortless,

about. And Fyne was distinctly excited. I understood it better when I learned that the captain of the Ferndale wanted little Fyne to be one of the trustees. He was leaving everything

repeated portentously. But I could see

osition," complained Fyne. "It made me speak much more strongly against all

oor of the hotel, that he and his wife were the only bond wi

his bond," declared Fyne solemnly. "Breaki

ve given him an inkling for what, b

practically admits that she was quite unscrupulous in accepting this offer of marriage, but says to my wife that she supposes she, my wife,

an paused and the

my brother-in-law-I m

What would have

asking myself whether this excellent civil servant and notable pedestrian had felt the breath of a great and fatal love-spell passing him by in the room of that East-end hotel. He did look for a moment as though he had seen a ghost, an other-world thin

f approached with undue solemnity, is apt to elude one's grasp entirely. No doubt Fyne knew something of a woman who was Captain Anthony's sister. But

stands nothing . . .

d be any alleviation to the danger. But it's certain that they shall have t

time had the tone of bitter irony-I had never before heard a s

ith?" I aske

shaven countenance when distorted in an unusual way is extremely apelike. It was a surprising sight, and rendered me not

ing surly in a moment. "He said that perhaps if he had heard her real name from the first it might have restrain

f high spirits. It must have been most distasteful to him; and his solemnity got damaged somehow i

victim. I don't know," he burst out suddenly through an enormous rent in his solemnity,

ugh, but that seems hardly an advantage to themselves or anyone else. I had completely forgotten the financier de Barral. The girl for me was an orphan, but now I perceived suddenly the force of Fyne's qualifying statement, "to a certain extent." It would have been infinitely more kind all round for the

e? I suppose she would appear to us

estly, "that she went and made

aven't seen her make eyes. You d

imply because she was thinking of her father. She doesn't care a bit about Anthony, I believe. She cares for no one. Never cared for anyone. Ask Zoe. For myself I don't bl

ark of love in all of us, it must be fanned while we are young. Hers, if she ever had it, had been drenched

rtising shark," he pursued venomously, but in a

" I said

herself," affirmed Fyne, with amazing in

om Mrs. Fyne

owlishly at this p

receive this interesting in

mself. He begged me to tell his sister that he offered no remarks on her conduct. Very improper and inconsequent.

ible, cruel, nightmarish sort of thing that I can hardly believe in

coming out! That's the whole trouble. What is he coming out to, I want to know? It seems a more

egraded existence. It was a relief that I could see only their shabby hopeless backs. He was an awful ghost. But indeed to call him a ghost was only a refinement of polite speech, and a manner of concealing one's terror of such things. Prisons are wonderful contrivances. Shut-open. Very neat. Shut-open. And out comes some sort of corpse, to wander awfully in a world in which it has no possible connections a

are about to let him out!

us either of me or

e he was to be kep

he black slight figure with just a touch of colour in her hat. She was walking slowly; and it might have been caution or reluctance. While listening to Fyne I stare

ut she must have been thinking of it day and night. What to do with him? Where to go? How to keep body and soul together? He had never made any friends. The only relations were the atrocious E

te knowledge was in my head while I stared hard across the wide road, so har

r own hand. In that letter to my wife she says she has acted unscrupulously. She has owned up, then, for what else can it mean, I should like to know. And so they are to be married before that old idiot comes out . . . He will be surprised," commented Fyne suddenly in a strangely malignant tone. "He shall be met at the jail door by a Mrs

amazed me as though he had changed his skin from white to

d miles from here, I don't mind so much. I wonder what that interesting old party will say. He will have another surprise. They mean to dra

girls." I suspect that he had been roughly handled by Captain Anthony up there, and the resentment gave a tremendous fillip to the slow play of his wits. Those men of sober fancy, when anything ro

mentally. But clearly Anthony was no diplomatist. His brother-in-law must have appeared to him, to use the language of shore people, a perfect philistine with a heart like a flint. What Fyne precisely meant by "w

m on board!" I muttered, st

I have been told, his feet will scarcely touch the grou

source. Having an unobstructed view past Fyne's shoulder, I was astonished to see that the girl was still there. I thought she had gone up long before. But there was her black slender figure, her white face under the roses of her hat. She stood on the edge

rpetual reminder. The daily existence. The isolated sea-bound existence. To bring such an additional strain into the solitude already trying enough for two people was the craziest thing. Undesir

with her-"He was most generous." Yes. Generosity of character may carry a man through any situation. But why didn't she go then to her generous man? Why stand there as if clinging to this solid earth which she surely hated as one must hate the place where one has been tormented, hopeless, unhappy? Suddenly she stirred. Was she going to cross over? No. She turned and began to walk slowly close to the curbston

werved rigidly-at the moment there was no one near her; she had that bit of pave

convict," Fy

arm, push the door open a little way and glide in. I saw plainly that

ch other in silence and feeling they were alone in the world as lovers should at the moment of meeting? But that fine forgetfulness was surely impossible to Anthony the seaman directly after the wrangling

ally don't see what else they could have done with him. You told yo

he first. I don't mean he was actually rude in words. Hang it all, I am not a

she will be much less poor

on Fyne's nerves. "I told the fellow very plainly that he

aback. "But what if the girl thought tha

g to be a surly solemnity. "Generosity! I am disposed to give it another name. No. Not folly," he shot out at me as though

f the de Barral-Anthony affair when I first perceived possibilities in him. The possibilities of dull men are exciting beca

at him-but I think with you that she did not. Yes! A shame to take advan

as that?" I said. "Be

retorted on me with a solemn stare

r. But you haven't act

ances. It pained Mrs. Fyne to discover how thoroughly she had been misunderstood. But what is written is no

al courage for it, or any great confidence in mankin

d sufficient authority to tell my brother-in-law that if he thought he was going to do something chivalrous and fine he was mist

that day I never set eyes on the Fynes. As usual the unexpected happened to me. It had nothing to do with Flora de Barral. The fact is that I went away. My call was not like her call. Mine was not urged on me with passionate vehemence or tender gentleness made all the finer and more compelling by the allurements of generosity which is a virtue as mysterious as any other but having a glamour of its own. No, it was just a prosaic offer of empl

I-THE