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Michael

Michael

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Chapter 1 1

Word Count: 6358    |    Released on: 28/11/2017

is, who sat on the arm of the sofa by his table, that there was no earthly excuse for his having run into debt; but now when the moment came for giv

ain. You've got to write to me, remember, in two days' time, saying that you have paid those bills. And for

cefully, which is more difficult than the feat

said. "But then you always

shoulders gave the impression of strength, and you would have expected to find when he got up that he was tall and largely made. But when he rose th

han to receive, Francis," he sai

en you are in a tight place, as I was,"

ap, because I don't miss what I've given you. But that's distinctl

rancis's gracefulness in receiving was clearly of a piece with the rest of him. He was tall, slim and alert, with the quick, soft movements of some wild animal. His face, brown with sunburn and pink with bris

laying his long, brown hand on his cousin'

sary," said Michael, final

he room was very empty of furniture; there was a rug or two on the parquet floor, a long, low bookcase taking up the end near the door, a table, a sofa, three or four chairs, and a piano. Everything was plain, but equally obviously everything was expensive, and the general impression given was that the owner had no desire to be surrounded by things he did not want,

sat over their tea. "I can't say that I exactly want your advice, but I should like your opinion. I've done so

is la

d afterwards to see if other people approve, which I am afraid looks like moral cowardice. I go on a different plan altogether. I ascertain the opinion of so many

m. Like many very shy persons, he had one friend with whom he was completely unreserved, and that

broad, big

t float along. Other people float you. But I should sink

one expects of a fellow who has expectations. In fact, it's I who have to

up and took

onger," he said. "That's just

is la

ked. "Have you been cashi

" said Michael. "If you had dined with me last night-as, b

Michael had lately told him, finding the world an extremely pleasant place, full of warm currents that took you gently forward without entailing the slightest exertion. But Michael's grave and e

king seriousl

never did anything t

can't have an opinion unless you give me the reasons why you did it. The thing itself-well, t

never thinks," he said, "you think uncommonly well. But the reasons a

hem anyhow,"

cloude

you know quite well, consists in being pleasant and in liking it. Well, I'm not pleasant. I'm not breezy and cordial. I can't do it. I make a task of what is a pastime to all of you, and I only shuffle through my task. I'm

he work; neither had he in the social side of life that particular and inimitable sort of easy self-confidence which, as he had said just now, enables its owner to float. Except in years he was not young; he could not manage to be "clubable"; he was serious and awkward at a supper party; he was

exaggerating

shook

ggerating-which I don't for a moment admit-the effect on my ge

came more

ree years," he said. "It won't be very p

ose on the score of popul

ertinent that could

father?" asked Francis.

d I'm going down to Ashbridge to-morrow.

be sorry,"

to manage my life now, you may be sure I never shall. But I know I'm right. I would bet on my infal

d not cont

the rest, th

ar more important, and ra

opriately sa

oldiering is among the few employments which it is considered proper for fellows in my position-good Lord! how awful it sounds!-proper for me to adopt. The other things that were open were that I should be a sailor or a member of Parliament. But the soldier was what father chose. I looked round the picture gallery at home the other day; there are twelve Lord Ashbridges in uniform. So, as I shall be Lord Ashbridge when father dies, I was stuck into uniform too, to be the ill-starred thirteenth. But what ha

sermon, and beat out the ashes

eve in what you are doing. I want to leave behind me something more than the portrait of a tin soldier in the dining-room at Ashbridge. After all, isn't an artistic profession the greatest there is? For what counts, what is of value in the worl

had anybody except himself been in the room, Michael could not have shown it. Perhaps there might be

ncouragingly. "You

ay golf. You can amuse yourself with painting if there aren't any pheasants to shoot. In fact, he will think that my wanting to become a musician is much the same th

ing up and down the room with

said. "You are exactly the son father would like to have, and I should so

sed a

im, and I don't see how to help it. It's pure waste of time, my going on in the Guards. I do it badly, and I hate it. Now, you're made for it; yo

ve a mirth

y plan is in question. Then, again, the lucky young woman has to be suitable; that is to say, she must be what my father calls 'one of us.' How I loathe that phrase! So my mother has a list of the suitable, and they come down to Ashbridge in gloomy succession, and she and I are sent out to

at this dismal picture of t

was an awfully nice girl down at Ashbridge at Easter when I was t

his fingers in a

ly been me, you would have married her. As it was, she and I bored each other stiff. There's an irony for you! But as for pining, I ask

occupied with music that he wholly lost his self-consciousness in this respect. It seemed to him that he must be as repulsive to others as he was to himself, which was a distorted view of the case. Plain without doubt he was, and of heavy and ungainly build; but his belief in the finality of his uncouthness was morbid and imaginary, and half his inability to get on with his fellows, no less than with the maiden

of girl, with whom I have nothing in common. So I say that if only we could have changed places, you would have filled my niche so perfectly, and I should have been free to bury myself in Leipzig or Munich, and lived like the grub I certainly am, and have drowned myself in a sea of music. As it is, go

a small, green m

t the day after. But perhaps I coul

use. I go to Bai

's Baireuth?"

other name was Wagner,

is no

't they? At least I found them so when I went to the opera the other n

s over, again. After that I shall come

ncis, amiably trying to ent

el la

it's rather as if you told somebody you were a

sists of quick march, especially

rn to play the pia

ll those songs the other night which you had never seen before. If you can

er as father will tal

I seem to be

d, then. I've got absolutely ever

cis

Anyhow, you want to do and be something so much that you are gaily going to face unpleasantnesses with Uncle Robert about it. Now, I wouldn'

not wanting,"

s are all so pleasant, and take all the time there is, that I don't wa

," said

must be rather nice to want a thing so much that you'll

ws are jelly-fish,

t and float. But I don't think I sting.

e piano, I

u would come. Aunt Barbara sent me the ticket for a box at the Gaie

on't," said Michael. "I'm rather l

ing to look forward t

I shall have a chop here at eight, a

round for his

go, but I didn't want to. The malady came in again

nd stood by hi

don't believe the Germans, for instance, have. They're in deadly earnest about all sorts of things

demurred

"This thing at the Gaiety is ripp

and out of swinging club doors and the example set by the leisured class seemed copiously copied by those whom desks and shops had made prisoners all day. The air of the whole town, swarming with the nation that is supposed to make so grave an affair of its amusements, was indescribably gay and lighthearted; the whole city seemed set on enjoying itself. The buses that boomed along were packed inside and out, and each was placarded with advertisement of some popular piece at theatre or music-hall. Inside the Green Park the grass was populous with lounging figures, who, unable to pay for indoor entertainment, were making the most of what the coolness of sunset and grass supplied them with gratis; the newsboards of itinerant sellers contained nothing of more serious import than the result of cricket matches; and, as the dusk bega

ave been quite unable to think of anything that he would sooner do than what he did; and he had sufficient of the ingrained human tendency to do something of the sort, which was a matter of routine rather than effort, than have nothing whatever, except the gratification of momentary whims, to fill his day. Besides, it was one of the conventions or even conditions of life that every boy on leaving school "did" something for a certain number of years. Some went into business in order to acquire the wealth that should procure them leisure; some, like himself, became soldiers or sailors, not because they liked guns and ships, but because to boys of a certain class these professions supp

ne as the evening sky; not yet was the storm-cloud that hung over Ireland bigger than a man's hand; east, west, north and south there brooded the peace of the close of a halcyon day, and the amazing doings of the Suffragettes but added a slight i

unt of work was necessary to win him an approved place in the scheme of things, a seat in the slow-wheeling sunshine. It really was not necessary to want, above all

ould come to dinner, and that they would proceed in a spirit of amiable content to the Gaiety. After that there was a ball somewhere (he had forgotten where, but one of the others would be sure to know), and to-morrow and to-morrow would be like unto to-day. It was idle to ask questions of oneself when all went so well; the time for asking questions was when there was matter for complaint, and with him assuredly th

submerged, scattered units or duets on the grass of the Green Park, of behaving like the lilies of the field. . . . Francis found he was rather late, and proceeded hastily to his mother's house in Savile Row to

eficit and dunning letters obscured the sunlight for a moment), was exactly all that he would have wished to be himself. But the moment he formulated that wish in his mind, he knew that he would not voluntarily have parted with one atom of his own individuality in order to be Francis or anybody else. He was aware how easy and pleasant life would become if he could look on it with Francis's eyes, and if the world would look on him as it looked on his cousin. There would be no more bother. . . . In a moment, he would, by this exchange, have p

than to be content. Even at this moment, when Francis had taken the sunshine out of the room with his departure, Michael clung to his own gloom and his own uncouthness, if by getting rid of them he would also have been obliged to get rid of his own temperament, unhappy as it was, but yet capable of st

orbid consciousness of his own physical defects, he had long been accustomed to check the instincts natural to a young man in this regard. He had seen too often the facility with which others, more fortunate than he, get delightedly lost in that golden haze; he had experienced too often the absence of attractiveness in himself. How could any girl of the London ballroom, he had so frequently asked himself, tolerate dancing or sitting out wi

e such, when Francis, gleeful with his cheque, had gone out to his dinner and his theatre and his dance, inviting him cheerfully to all of them. In just that had been the bitterness-namely, that Francis had so overflowing a well-spring of content that he could be cordial in bidding him cast a certain gloom over these entertainments. Michael knew, quite unerrin

verie hanging about his brain, banged away at the overture. He had extraordinary dexterity of finger for one who had had so little training, and his hands, with their great stretch, made light work of octaves and even tenths. His knowledge of the music enabled him to wake the singing bird of memory in his head, and before long flute and horn and strin

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