Michael

of its water meadows, suddenly and somewhat disconcertingly grows up and, without any period of transition

nged the brown and green growths of the sea, with their sharp, acrid odour instead of the damp, fresh smell of meadow flowers, and at low tide the podded bladders of brown weed and long strings of marine macaroni, among which peevish crabs scuttle sideways, take the place of the grass and spires of loosestrife; and over the water, instead of singing larks, hang white c

ost precisely the same appearance as it did in the summer of 1913, if we leave out of reckoning a few dozen of modern upstart villas that line its outskirts, and the very inconspicuous railway station that hides itself behind the warehouses near the river's bank. Most of the trains, too, quite ignore its exi

barrow.) It carries on its floor a quantity of fresh straw, in the manner of the stage coaches, in which the problematic passenger, should he ever appear, will no doubt bury his feet. On its side, just below the window that is not made to open, it carries the legend that shows that it belongs to the Comber Arms, a hostelry

toms of their owners, who go to Stoneborough every morning to their work, and return by the train that brings them home in time for dinner. They do other exotic and unsuitable things also, like driving swiftly about in motors, in playing golf on the other side of the river at Coton, and in having parties at each oth

tract the attention of the antique ferryman, who is invariably at the other side of the river and generally asleep at the bottom of his boat. If you are strong-lunged and can prance and shout for a long time, he may eventually stagge

n council were born, and he seems to have established a right to go to sleep on the other side of the river which is now inalienable from him. Besides, asleep or awake, he is always perfectly sober, which, after all, is really one of the first requirements for a suitable ferryman. Even the representations of Lord Ashbridge himself who, when in residence, frequently has occasion to use the ferr

of the fitness of things to progress along the platform with his genial, important tiptoe walk, and elbows squarely stuck out, to the carriage that was at once reserved for him, to touch the brim of his grey top-hat (if travelling up to town) to the obsequious guard, and to observe the heads of passengers who wondered why their express was arrested, thrust out of carriage windows to look at him. A livened footman, as well as a valet, followed him, bearing a coat and a ru

eir time on the platform like ordinary mortals. Though he could undoubtedly have extended his rights to the stopping of a train for his wife or son, he wisely reserved this for himself, les

h aristocracy. But pomposity would be far too superficial a word to apply to him; it would not adequately connote his deep-abiding and essential conviction that

families where brewers and distinguished soldiers had no place, unless it was theirs already. He was ready to pay all reasonable homage to those who were distinguished by their abilities, their riches, their exalt

t eyes, while in mind she was stunned. No idea other than an obvious one ever had birth behind her high, smooth forehead, and she habitually brought conversation to a close by the dry enunciation of something indubitably true, which had no direct relation to the point under discussion. But she had faint, ineradicable prejudices, and instincts not quite dormant. There was a large quantity of mild affection in her nature, the qu

ess of being Lord Ashbridge and all which that implied, completely filled any place he happened to be in, so that a room empty except for him gave the impression of being almost uncomfortably crowded. This keen consciousness of his identity was naturally sufficient to make him very good humoured, since he was

ld at any rate prove to be a snob-he had a vague notion that all Americans were snobs-and that thus Mr. Jerome would have the saving grace to admire and toady him. But Mr. Jerome showed no signs of doing anything of the sort; he treated him with an austere and distant politeness that Lord Ashbridge could not construe as being founded on admiration and a sense of his own inferiority, for it was so clearly founded on dislike. That, however, did not annoy Lord As

, resigned his commission on the inexplicable grounds that he wanted to do something with his life. To begin with that was rankly heretical; if you were a Comber there was no need to do anything with your life; life did everything for you. . . . And what this un-Comberish young man wanted to do with his life was to be a musician. That musicians, artists, actors, had a right to exist Lord Ashbridge did not question. They were no doubt (or might be) very excellent people in their way, and as a matter of fact he often recognised their existence by going to the opera, to the private view of the

uth terrace overlooking the estuary to convey-not very successfully-to his wife something of his feelings on the subject. She, according to her custom, was drinking a little

r is a musical career? I shall tell Michael pretty roundly when he arrives this evening what I thin

ered this for a momen

kely that Francis would do anything of the kind. Look, Petsy is better;

od-humoured giggle

ff your dog for a moment and attend to me. And I must really ask you

dge gave a

, Petsy,"

d he, "and we will hope it won't

e pulled hers

ht, is he not? But just now you were speaking of Fr

tion, he will just have to beg them to cancel it. Michael seems not to have the slightest idea of the duties which his birth and position entail on him.

e recollected

. "I do not think I was ever in London in S

ve been accustomed to spend your Septembers," s

lking about," said she. "We are talking abou

the terrace opposite the tea-table with his e

Combers are musical. But Michael is my only son, and it really distresses me to see how little sense he has of his responsi

a little more cream for Petsy, and her husband, turning

eam," he said, with some asper

te composedly repl

sy!" she

ttend to me, Ma

hael to be a musician in September and wear long hair and perhaps play at concerts. I am sure I quite agree w

ority," he said, ste

than ever. Poor Michael is very obedient when he is told to do anything he intends to do, but when he doesn't agree it is difficu

e felt strong

ther to make," he observed. "It has given Michael an independence wh

nvictions. She had a mild but unalterable opinion that when anybody died,

r us to question it. She was conscientiousness itself. You will have to excuse

th me on the impossibility of his adopting a musical career. I cannot, at presen

emarked. "He gets that from you, Robert, tho

e; it was clear that she had no idea to contribute to the subject except slightly pessimistic forebodings with which, unfortunately, he found himself secretly disposed to agree. He had always felt

the calm blue of the evening sky, and remembering the advent of his sister he wondered whether she would not join the insurgent. Barbara Jerome, as has been remarked, often annoyed her brother; she also genially laughed at him; but Lord Ashbridge, partly from affection, partly from a loyal family sense of clanship, always expected his sister

hael, does she not?" he said. "I hope she will

ittle thought. "I am afraid she may bring her great dog with her. I

play just badly enough to be beaten towards the end of the round after an exciting match. It required a good deal of cleverness and self-control to accomplish this, for Lord Ashbridge was a notably puerile performer, but he generally managed it with tact and success, by dint of missing absurdly easy putts, and (here his skill came in) by pulling and slicing his ball into far-distant bunkers. Throughout the game it was his business to keep up a running fire of admiring ejaculations such as "Well driven, my lord," or "A fine putt, my lord. Ah! dear me, I wish I could putt like that," though occasionally his chorus of praise betrayed him into error, and from habit he found himself saying: "Good shot, my lord," when my

m Lord Ashbridge's soil; that the rows of hen-coops in the park, populous and cheeping with infant pheasants, belonged to the same fortunate gentleman who in November would so unerringly shoot them down as they rocketted swiftly over the highest of his tree-tops; that to him also appertained the long-fronted Jacobean house which stood so commandingly upon the hill-top, and glowed with all the mellowness of its three-hundred-years-old bricks. And his satisfaction was not wholly fatuous nor entirely personal; all these spa

duties as "one of us" were, that he did so, and any legislation which compelled him to part with one pennyworth of his property for the sake of others less fortunate he resisted to the best of his ability as a theft of what was his. The country, in fact, if it went to the dogs (and certain recent legislation distinctly seemed to point kennelwards), would go to the dogs because ignorant politicians, who were most emphatically not "of us," forced him and others like him to recognise the rights of dependents instead of trusting to their instinctive fitness to dis

st existed in her comfortable chair, since Barbara might come any moment, and she would have to entertain her, which she frequently did unawares. But as Barba

ho had just received a second saucerful of cream. Once he dashed in close, and with a single lick of his tongue swept the saucer dry of nutriment, and with hoarse barkings proceeded again to dance corybantically about, while Lady Ashbridge with fa

etsy's heart is beating terribly; she does not like dogs. But I

was less usual in these days of universal knowledge, there was invariably some point in what she said. She had, in the ordinary sense of the word, no manners at all, but essentially made up for this lack by her sincere and humourous kindliness. She saw with acute vividness the ludicrous side of everybody, herself incl

growing. Tony drove down with me, and is in the car now. He would not come in for fear of seeing Robert, so I ventured to tell them to take him a cup of tea there, which he will drink with the blinds down, and then drive back to town again. He ha

lves. "But your husband must come in," she said. "I w

ra la

on the express stipulation that no risks were to be run about his seeing Robert. We must take no chances, so

comes thi

trying; they remind me of being in church. I feel as if I were part of a corporate body, which leads to misplaced decorum. Ah! there is the sound of Tony's retreating motor; his strategic movement has come off. And now give me some news, if you can get in

Og was still menacing, as he advanced towards her with staccato steps. Ba

d. "And how did the golf go? An

ncy here, and becam

me I played a very sound game. I am delighted to se

saves time, but not expen

called his brother-in-law Mr. Jerome, to indicate the gu

well," she said. "You must cal

hat is a g

es, when I went to those beloved States. We will practise after dinner, dear, and you and Marion shall be the King and Queen, and I will try to walk backwards without t

ignified with Barbara, whenever he could remember not to be; and Lady Ashbridge,

his dinner," she said, "and

glance at the broad stretch of

unity of talking to you, my dear Barb

fore dinner" said Lady Ashbridge.

ying that he has resigned his commission in the

a delighted

and I are the only Combers who ever have, since Combers 'arose from out the azure main'

As for its being original, it would be origin

l her embroidery at th

wildly, Robert," she s

Barbara. I have already ascertained your-your lack of views on the

id that," remarke

ur saying that he has done it, Barbara, that is very w

think it is a glorious move on Michael's part. It requires brain to find out what you like, and character to go and do it

fs of Ashbridge were visible in the clear sunset. . .

rgetting for a moment the danger of bein

mirably. A slight tremor shoo

even when it arises from not having very much to say. They are sticky; they attract wealth, and they have the force called vis inertiae, which means that they invest their money prudently. You should hear Tony-well, perhaps you had better not hear Tony. But now here is Michael showing th

ys been a little jealous of F

bara; she spoke

that the world has ever known. Michael might be jealous of anybody else, for the poor boy feels his physical awkwardne

ng even more fruitless than that wi

s to ask you not to ba

er thoroughly worsting you, asks me my opinion, I shall certainly give it him. But he wo

bridge, hearing the stable clock strike.

ord to say, and disre

resists your wishes and authority, he will be enjoying hi

ly; he had merely a profound

about resista

cessful on this occasi

dear, indee

oday he had an additional bulwark against such self-inflicted worries, for he had spent his last two hours in town at the vocal recital of a singer who a month before had stirred the critics into rhapsody over her gift of lyric song. Up till now he had had no opportunity of hearing her; and, with the panegyrics that had been sh

mann; there is no one like him!" But it occurred to Michael that the singer was like him, though she was fair and he dark. But his perception of either of them visually was but vague; he had come to hear and not to see. Neither she nor Hermann had any music with them, and Hermann just glanced at the programme, which he put down on the top of the piano, which,

nother the pianist, and if the voice was an example of art in excelsis, not less exalted was the perfection of the player. Not for a moment through the song did he take his eyes off her; he looked at her with an intensity of gaze that seemed to be reading the emotion with which the lovely melody filled her. For herself, she looked straight out over the hall, with grey eyes half-closed, and mouth that in the pauses of

ly it was a cliche species of joke that she should ask who Sylvia was, and enumerate her merits, when all the time she was Sylvia. Michael felt rather impatient at this; she was not anybody just now but a singer. And then came the divine inevitable simplicit

But his emotions being unoccupied he attended more to the manner of the performance, and in especial to the marvellous technique, not so much of the singer, but of the pianist who caused the rain to fall and the waters reflect the toneless grey skies. He had never, even when listening to the great

to-day and which belonged to the art that claimed the allegiance of his soul. The rattle of the wheels was alchemised into song, and as with half-closed eyes he listened to it, there swam across it now the full face of the singer, now the profile of the pianist,