The Lost Girl

oman. It could not believe that he was only so fond of Alvina because she was like a sister to him, poor, lonely, harassed soul that he was: a pure sister who really hadn't any body. For althou

er one day how it was,

t, so long as you keep it so. But it is a thing of the moment. Which you know. It may last a week or two, or a month or two. But you know from the beginning it is going to end-quite finally-quite soon. You take it for what it is. But it's so differen

ted in abstractu as far as he was concerned. For she did not find him at all physically moving. Physically

ife?" she s

tools on top of me. I thought I should never get up again. When I was physical, she was mental-Bernard Shaw and cold baths for supper!-and when I was mental she was physical, and threw her arms round my neck. In the morning, mark you. Always in the m

hed outright. And yet she remained g

ced, one day when he was curling himself up cosily on the sofa, that he had pale blue silk underwear, an

eing contented-or nearly so, nearly so. Certainly there was money coming in. But then he had to pay off all he had borrow

have no pull at all. In that region of sharp hills with fine hill-brows, and shallow, rather dreary canal-valleys, it was the places on the hill-brows, like Woodhouse and Hathersedge and Rapton which flourished, while the dreary p

second-rate from the start. His hope now lay in the tramway which was being built from Knarborough away through the country-a black country indeed-through Woodhouse and Lumley and Hathersedge,

buy a new machine and finer lense

bly secretive with respect to business. But he said t

think we're doin

tter than we did at fir

! That's true. That's

to like th

don't seem to want to come to them. I know they always talk as if we were second-rate. And they onl

his blue eyes at her, miserable and fright

think that i

they like the t

pplaud them! Look ho

e them. But they don't come again. They crowd the Empire-and t

ed her d

d miserable. He himself was not interested in the film. His interest was still the human interest in living performers

. "But I don't believe they wa

" asked Mr. M

the artistes do. I be

ut forgive my rudeness! I don't mean it, of cauce! But do you mean to say that these collier louts and

hey are," s

s mouth and smiling at her as if she were a whimsical

'm sure that these common people here are jealous if anybod

y be so silly! And then why aren't they jealous of

And pictures don't have any feelings apart from their own feelings. I mean the feelings of the people who watch them. Pictures don't h

hey themselves are everything? But how? They identify

w it's like that. It's because they can spread themselves over a film, and they can't

hed her long

"Why, to me the whole joy is in the living personality, the cu

s where you're dif

t a

as up to the ma

do you mean? Do you mean t

hate to admire anything that they can't take to themselves. They hate anything that isn't

ill p

e said, a little mocking, as if

don't know the common people. You

d her a l

the variety, and give nothing but p

t takes best

hen! It's so dull. Oh my word, it's s

d have to get a new machine, and pay for the expensive fil

y they're good e

went on to summer, and then there was a very shadowy margin of profit. But James was not at all daunted

outlawed look about them as they swung along the pavement-some of them; and there was a certain lurking set of the head which rather frightened her because it fascinated her. There was one tall young fellow with a red face and fair hair, who looked

o hear Mr. May's op

three turned round, to find all three turning round. Alvina laughed, and made eyes. At that moment sh

garized in her bearing. She was déclassée: she had lost her class altogether. The other daughters of respectable

from Woodhouse to Lumley, between Manchester House and the Pleasure Palace. She laughed when she saw her father's theatre-notices plastered about. She laughed when she saw his thrilling announcem

able. They were often very irritable. And they had always a certain fund of callous philosophy. Alvina did not like them-you were not supposed, really, to get deeply emotional over them. But she found it amusing to see them all and know them all. It was so different from Woodhouse, where everything was priced and ticketed. These people were nomads. They didn't care a straw who you were or who you weren't. They had a most irritable professional vanity, and that was all. It was most odd to watch them. They weren't very squeamish. If the young gentlemen liked to peep round the curtain when the young lady was in her knic

o a rather better-class widow in Woodhouse. He never let Alvina take any part in the making of these arrangements, excep

Most of them were middle-aged. Most of them had an abstracted manner; in ordinary life, they seemed left aside, someh

ome, and growing stout. When sober, he was completely reserved. When rather drunk, he talked charmingly and amusingly-oh,

othed with the most exquisite tattooing. Never would she forget the eagle that flew with terrible spread wings between his shoulders, or the strange mazy pattern that netted the roundness of his buttocks. He was not very large, but nicely shaped, and with no hair on his smooth, tattooed body. He was almost blue in colour-that is, his tattooing was blue, with pickings of brilliant vermilion: as for instance round the nipples, and in a strange red serpent's-jaws over the navel. A serpent went round his loins and haunches. He told her how many times he had had blood-poisoning, during the process of his tattooing. He was a queer, black-eyed crea

in, and autumn. Winte

ams, moreover, would b

e consisted of five persons, Madame Rochard and four young men. They were a strictly Red Indian troupe. But one of the young men, the German Swiss, was a famous yodeller, and another, the

ated in the living room talking with James, who had an anxious look. Since opening the Pleasure Palace James was less regular at Chapel. And moreover, he was getting old and shaky, and Sunday was the one

mist for some cough-cure, because Madame had got a bad cold.

see if she could breathe properly. She, Mrs. Rollings, had suggested that Madame should put her feet in hot mustard and water, but Madame said she must have something to clear her chest. The four young men were four nice civil young fellows. They evidently liked Madame

and again, to try and make sure how bad it was. But Mrs. Rollings didn't seem quite to kn

h Mrs. Rollings and see how this woma

a night," said Miss Pinnegar. "And besides, it isn'

l see if we haven't got some of those pastilles for burning. I

curious to see what Madame and

he sleet to the widow's dwelling. It was not far. As they went up the entry they heard th

llings

sharp voice. Alvina ent

e cough stuff," said

as well, to se

ump, pale woman with dark bright eyes and finely-drawn eyebrows: she might be any age between forty and fifty. There were grey threads in her tidy black hair. She was neat

ump hand, on which four or five rings showed. She h

me." Madame's voice was a little plaintive and pla

ughton," s

thee-etter where you're goin'

d cold on my chest-" laying her plump hand with the rings on her plump bosom. "But let me introduce you to my

loor. The table also was covered with a brightly-patterned American oil-cloth, shiny but clean. A naked gas-jet hung over it. For furniture, there were just chairs, ar

you only their names, and not their fami

tall Swiss with almond eyes and a flatti

iss Frenchman, moderately tall, with prominent cheekbone

ey made his bow-a broad-shouldered, wat

yellow-tawny eyes. He was an Italian from the south. Madame gave another look at him. "He doesn't like his English name of Frank. You will see, he pulls a face. No, he doesn't l

e are drawn from three races, though only Ciccio is

heir chairs. Th

and took long, uneasy breaths. "I feel it. I feel it here." She patted her breast. "It makes me afraid for tomorrow. Will you perhaps take a glass of beer? Ciccio, ask for another glass-" Ciccio, at the end of the table, did not rise, but look

ever take beer," sa

nom at Ciccio. The rest of the young men fingered their glasses and put thei

ere were dark rings under her eyes, the beautifully-brushed hair shone dark like black glass abo

r bad," said Alvina. "Will you

ed and looke

ou should trouble to

y-coloured Swiss, tu

, and then we s'll know, shan't we. I had

ket. Ciccio meanwhile muttered something in F

aned Madame, seeing Alvina hold up the thermom

do the White Prisoner scene," sai

oss to Madame with the thermometer. Madame lifted her plump h

ngle day, for ten years. Never. If I am goin

Max. "You know you w

you talki

," said Geoffrey roug

opened her mouth, and sat back with closed eyes and the stump of the thermometer comically protr

ctise-" beg

nd Madame, who still leaned back with the stump of the thermometer jaun

nder the tip of his rather long nose. Then he took the cigarette from his mouth, turned his head, slowly spat on the floor, and rubbed his foot on his spit. Max flapped his eyel

g both turned their at

ure was a hu

ed," said Alvina. "Ha

thful," said Ma

d it quickly, then turned aside his head because of the tears in his eyes. Geoffrey gulped b

for the doctor

r! Don't you go and do that!

rature," murmured

" said Madame, o

e if there's a fire

vi

too good. Open the d

as too late. Max had hastened to usher A

in. Que vais-je faire, mourir dans un tel pays! La bonne demoiselle-la bonne demoiselle-elle a du coeur. Elle pourra

h nein. Nicht so furc

e. "Che natura povera, senza sentimento-niente di

he dropped his long, beautiful lashes, as if he might weep f

id in her arm-chair. Usually she spoke in French onl

" murmured Madame. "E

-la pauvre

an name, the name under which s

in her side. A feverish flush seemed to mount her cheek. The young men were all extremely uncomfortable. Louis

ame's hand as she went out: her poor jewelled hand, that was faintly perfum

. Good-night valiant Geoffrey. Ah Ciccio, do not add to the weight of my heart. Be good

mbed the stairs, putting her hand on h

ould have followed to her assis

m was tidy

rooms are well in order. They are not to be trusted, no. They

he fire and began

u," said Alvina. "You kn

oung lady. I am a lonely old woman. I a

lp you," s

ld have thought Kishw

the boys in the theat

at is the name of thi

rememb

se," sai

something called Woodlouse? I believ

be a dancer on the stage, strenuous. But Madame's softness could flash into wild energy, sudden convulsive power

d bed! But cold-it is so cold. Would you ha

derclothing. Queer, dainty woman, was Madame, eve

don't think I need see a priest, dear? A

can get you warm. I think it's only a c

watching at the sound of footsteps. His rather bony fists were cle

uch ill?"

. Do you mind heating the blanket w

ok. Max was straight and stiff. Mrs. Rollings asked Geoffrey to fill the coal-scuttles and carry one upstairs. Geo

," said Alvina to Ciccio. "Will

l, but loosely built for an Italian, with slightly sloping shoulders. Alvina noticed the brown, slender Mediterranean hand, as he put his fingers to his li

, but held aloof as h

she hurried rather breathless through

lked with his hands in the pockets of h

ever be able to dance

e won't be ab

st sure s

t silence till they came to the black dark passa

said. "It's this way." She groped for hi

ay," sh

clasp-almost like a child's touch. So they came u

doors, and the yo

t her into a sweat." And Alvina ran upstairs collecting things necessary. Ciccio stood back near the door, and answered all

yourself before you go

he man as he drooped h

ssent, but opened

he said, showing his teeth

Pinnegar, nettled. She couldn't make

door. Alvina wrapped the poor patient in the hot blankets, got a few spoonfuls of hot gruel and whiskey down her throat, fastened her down in bed, lowered the light and banished the men from the stairs. Then she sat down to watch. Madame chafed, moaned, murmured feverishly. Alvina soothed her, and put her hands in bed. And at last the poor dear became quiet. Her brow was faintly

ll," said Alvina. "

lful nature rebelled strongly. She would have thrown aside her coverings and gasped in

still burning in the front room. Tapping, she entered. There sat Max by the fire, a picture of misery, with Louis opposite him, nodding asleep after his tears. On the sofa Geoffrey snored lightly, wh

to bed?" whisper

he only stubborn watcher, s

vina. "She's perspired. She's be

ep-whitened, owlish eyes,

me and look at her. But don'

in his hand. They noiselessly entered and peeped stealthily over the heaped bedclothes. Madame was lying, looking a litt

he German fashion, and crossed himself, dropping his knee as before an altar; crossed himself and dropped his knee once more

wed and took the edge of a blanket to his lips, kissin

slept lightly a

n they got downstairs, Max and Louis threw themselves in each other's arm

" said Max grav

God," rep

e sleeping, but in vain. At last Geoffrey began to stir. But in vain Louis lifted Ciccio's shoulders from the table. The head and the hands dropped inert. The long black lashes lay motionless, the rather

t she pressed the hand. Ciccio opened his tawny-yellowish eyes, that seemed to have been put in with a dirty finger, as t

ina, laughing, pres

ame to consciousness, his hand relaxed, he recognized her, and he s

in French, pushing him as ox-drivers sometime

hey told him. "We

ing to Alvina as he passed. Max solemnly, Louis gallant, the o

om the sofa, and slept on the floo

d settling off again. It was eight o'clock before s

etter, I am quite wel

y," said Alvina. "B

can dance today, because I am

ill today. Yes, really-you will find

vina's thin face

oman, severe and mat

looked round at her

ook about her, a sort of heroism which Madam

d hand. "Come, I am an ungrateful woman. Come, they a

Madame kissed her hand, then drew her down and kissed her on

mbers. There, Miss Houghton, I shall do what you tell me. Kishwégin o

our temperature

hall. You shall bid

ively pursing the thermometer between her

d Alvina, as she look

rma

ather guttural voice. "Good! W

ned and lo

Alvina, "it shouldn't

id

say Thursday?" There was a note

ust escaped pleurisy. I can only

all things, to have your own way. And over all people. You are so good, to have your own way. Yes, you goo

her tea and was washed and her room was tidied, she summoned the young men. Alvin

eared, in his shirt-sleeves and his

sday, as the English demoiselle makes it." She held out her hand, faintly perfumed with eau de Cologne-the whole room sme

ul Max, my

anemones. He laid them down on the bed before her,

r Madame?" he said,

heart." She put the violets and anemones to her face with both han

t, while there is no Kishwégin?" s

s?r, M

Where is my needle?" She looked roun

ng?" said Alvina, wh

en

this button. It is t

o it," sa

nk y

practise well the scene of the White Prisoner. Very carefully they must practise, and they must find some one who would play the young squaw-for in this scene she had practicall

s going on, Mr. May ar

e the processi

ocession!"

ressed as Indian braves, and headed by Kishwégin they rode on horseback through the main streets. Ciccio, who was the c

The morning was faintly sunny, after the sleet and bad weather. And now h

e!" cried Mr. May. "

ful!" wailed Mad

t we do a

young men can do that, if you find a dummy

of fret and exhausti

s now?" said Alvina. "Mr. M

the five men ou

a dummy. But I must be there. It is too d

manage by themselves. Men are such babies

hey do without their old gouvernante? My poor braves, what will they do without Kis

ied Alvina, as she forcibly tucked

a hard Englishwoman.

ully and weakly. Alvi

nutes Madame wa

his head on one side, and, laying his hand on Max's arm, entertained him in odd German. The others were silent. Ciccio made no pretence of listening, but smoked and stared at h

ompany. He perked up his head in an odd, parrot-like fashion. "I'll be the squaw! What

with his arms on his knees on the sofa, screwed round his head and watch

morning, and let us do the procession this afternoon, when the colliers are just comin

y braves. And they turned to put on their boots. Soon they were all trooping down to Lumley

e saved the situation-what? Don't you think so?

in the theatre. He was on tenterhook

lliant display

cried Mr. May. "I must expla

y theatre, he began, st

n farm, amid the upland pastures, dawn will awake you with a wild, inhuman song, you will open your eyes to the first gleam of icy, eternal sunbeams, your ears will be ringing with weird singing, that has no words and no meaning, but sounds as if some wild and icy god were warbling to himself as he wandere

ume, white shirt and green, square braces, short trousers of chamois leather stitched with green and red, firm-planted naked knees, naked ankles and heavy shoes, warbled his native Yodel strains,

et, struggling with each other and protesting they wanted to take it to the policeman, Ciccio, who st

the music Madame carried with her. If Madame found a good pianis

ht?" said a s

and a short chamois dress, gaiters and moccasins and bar

do?" protested

," said Alvina, chokin

my appearance you laugh at, or is it only me? If it's

had long black hair and eagle's feathers-only two feathers-and a face wonderfully and terribly painted with white, red, yellow, and black lines. He was e

aid, touching Mr. May's plump wais

ambling, rolling its loose shoulders, was stretching a paw towards him. The

dance," said Geoffr

flowers," said Mr. Ma

range as he put the last touches of war-paint on Louis' face. He glanced round at Alvina, then went on with his work. There was a

war-paint even more hideous. Max slipped on a tattered hunting-shirt and

dissociate the two braves from their war-paint. The lines were drawn so cleverly that the grimace of ferocity was fixed and horrible, so that even in the quiet work of scene-shifting Louis' stiffish, fema

Kishwégin and the prisoner-the prisoner wants his bonds cut. Re-enter the brave Louis-he is angry with Kishwégin-enter the brave Ciccio hauling a bear, apparently dead. Kishwégin examines the bear, Ciccio examines the prisoner. Ciccio tortures the prisoner, makes him stand, makes him caper unwillingly. Kishwégin swings the cradle. The prisoner is tripped up-falls, and cannot rise. He lies near the fallen bear. Kishwégin carries food to Ciccio. The two braves converse in dumb show, Kishwégin swings the cradle and croons. The men rise once more and bend over the pr

ell the men played the

oo frisky as Kishwégin

at the horses hired for the afternoon procession. Alv

s quite wonderful, yo

cc

es rested on her good-naturedly, without seeing her, his l

stupid smile. "Without Madame-" he lifted his shoulders and s

think Mr. May is good,

he asked a li

at a bird which flutters past. And again he made his shrugging motion. "She does it all, really. The others-they ar

made it all? Thoug

hands lightly, and he tilted his eyebrows and his eyelids as if facially he were imitating a dance, and all the time his lips smiled stupidly. As he gave a little assertive shake of his head, finishing, there came a great yell of laughter from the opposite pavement, where a gang of pottery lasses, in aprons all spattered with grey clay, and hair an

," said Alvina. "I'v

th a sharp, vicious movement-"smacked,"

g to do it?"

one hand outspread in the air, as if to say: "There you

ove Madame so muc

as if watching her sideways, and his mouth had the peculiar, stupid, self-conscious, half-jeering smile. Alvina was a little bit annoyed. But she felt that a great instinctive good-naturedness came out of him, he was self-conscious

could hear Mr. May's verdict of him: "Like a child, you kno

ur home?" sh

." She fe

rt?" she

ooking down at her s

e lovely,"

pread out his hands, as if to say-"What do

it. But I shouldn't

ha

Naples and die,

nd understood. Then he

ans see Naples and die afterwards. Don't die befor

he cried. "I neve

with her surpri

across the air in front of him-"The sea-and Posilippo-and

id. "I shoul

s. It was his instinct to s

thing-nothing,"

lovely, how could you

ha

eld out his hand, and rubbing the ball of his thumb across

Naples is beautiful, but she is poor. You live in t

ough,"

e on his mouth was sad, fine, and charming. There was an indefinable air of sadness or wistfulnes

l go back?

he

ly. To

d, as if unwilling to commit himself. "

ev

all go to Naples, to see my mother'

a mother a

er and two sisters-in

are d

r about the wo

made a slight, sad ges

adame for a mot

n the corners of his mouth as if he didn't lik

thers? Eh?" he said, as

think so," la

see what she meant,

Frenchwomen-Frenchwomen-they have th

ean?" said Alv

ars old-and if his mother comes, he is a little

know it,"

said, lurching roun

g to ride. He stood and examined the beasts critically. Then he spoke to them with strange sounds, patte

She felt unconsciously flattered. His long, yellow look lingered, holding her eyes. She wondered what he was

nd on the neck of the old thoroughbr

," she said. "He s

s go on wheels." He smiled into her eyes as if she understood. She was a trifle nervous as he smiled at her from out of the stable, so yellow-eyed and

you to to

med, with only a yellow ring of pupil. He was lookin

ultimate good-nature. He seemed to her to be the only passionately good-natured man she had eve

white horse, followed by Max in chieftain's robes and chieftain's long head-dress of dyed feathers, then by the others in war-paint and feathers and brilliant Navajo blankets. They carried bows and spears. Ciccio was without his blanket, naked to the waist, in war-paint, and bran

oached and passed, jingling the silver bells of its trappings, vibrating the wonderful colours of the barred blankets and saddle cloths, the scarlet wool of the accoutrements, the bright tips of feathers. Women shrieked as Ciccio

t intermittent flashing of colour: then the chieftain, dark-faced, erect, easy, swathed in a white blanket, with scarlet and black stripes, and all his strange crest of white, tip-dyed feathers swaying down his back: as he came nearer one saw the wolfskin and the brilliant moccasins against the black sides of his horse; Louis and Goeffrey followed, lurid, horrid in the face, wearing blankets with stroke after stroke o

rmured Miss Pinneg

nkets seemed to her unsettling, advancing down K

re she uttered a scream and ran back clutching the wall as Ciccio swept past, brushing her with his horse's tail, and actually swinging his spear so as to touch Alvina and James Houghton lightly with the butt of it. James too started with a cry, the mo

" Miss Pinnegar was cr

ary! Why it was enough

ous. It ought to be

g these show-peop

striped colour and its silent riders. Ciccio was trotting softly back, on

t his death," the women

ne, that. Makes yo

take's painted face for wha

covered his teeth. He fell in suddenly behind Geoffrey, wi

sat, and darted off. They had all disappeared over the brow of Lumley Hill, descending. He was gone too. In the wintry twilight the crowd began, lingeringly, to turn away. And in some strange way, it manif

people can go on liking shows. Nothing happens. It's not like the cinema, where you see it all and take it all in at once; you know everything at a glance. You don't know anything by looking at these people. You know they're only men dressed up, for money. I can't see why you should encourage it. I don't hold with idle

iccio was just a fantasy blown in on the wind, to blow away again. The real, permanent thing was Woodhouse, the semper idem Knarborough Road, and the unchangeable grubby gloom of Manchester House, with the stuffy, padding Miss Pinnegar, and her father, whose fingers, whose very soul seemed dirty with pennies. These were the solid, permanent fact. These were life itself. And Ciccio, splashing up on his bay horse and green cloth, he was a mountebank and an extraneous nonentity, a coloured old rag blown down the Knarborough Road

ina into a s

you go on in the most unattractive way

artly. "I don't approve of y

uch as I hate your spoil-sport e

you mad!" sai

id Alvina, "consider