The Fortunate Youth

Fuller, however, advanced the uncontrovertible opinion that a man was not dead till he died; and Paul was not dead yet. As a matte

a turn for the better, the London physician came down again and declared that he was living in defiance of all the laws of pathology, and with a graceful compliment left the case in the hands of Dr. Fuller. When his life was out of danger, Dr. Fuller attributed the mira

rm as he lay snugly asleep beneath a hedge. The German Ocean had fallen down upon him. He was quite sure it was the German Ocean, because he had fixed it in his head by repeating "the North Sea or German Ocean." Mixing up delirious dream with fact, he clearly remembered the green waves rearing themselves up first, an immeasurable wall, then spreading a translucent canopy beneath the firmament and then descending in awful deluge. He had a confused memory of morning sunshine, of a cottage, of a hard-featured woman, of sitting before a fire with a blanket round his shoulders, of a toddling child smeared to the eyebrows with dirt and treacle whom he had wanted to wash. Over and over again, lately, he had wanted to wash that child, but it had always eluded his efforts. Once he had thought of scraping it with a bit of hoof-iron, but it had turned into a Stilton cheese. It was all very puzzling. Then he had gone on tramping along the high road. What was that about bacon and eggs? The horrible smell offended his nostrils.

great green cathedral whose doors stood invitingly open ... and now he found himself in the hospital ward. Sometimes he felt a desire to question the blue-and-white nurse, but it seemed too much trouble to move his lips. Then in a flash came the solution of the puzzle, and he chuckled

f Morning Glow roses stood by his bedside, gracious things for fevered eyes to rest upon. A few large photographs of famous pictures hung on the walls. In front of him was the

me up to him and spoke in a soothi

Paul. "I suppose

," said t

't be a h

she added quickly, seeing him knit a perplexed brow. "You stumbled into their

they?" as

so glad to see you better-at least Miss

tor came, and spoke kindly. "You've had a narrow shave, my friend, and you're not out of the

recognized as the puzzling but

you for taking me in, a str

thank. You might have been taken ill by the roadside

ured Paul, closing his eyes.

h we won't enter," laughed Miss Winwoo

been so anxious about your people-you see, w

" asked Pau

e wondering what

people,"

room. She herself had hundreds of relations. The branches of her family tree were com

" said Paul. "I'm qui

ds to whom I could

ers. "No. None that count. At least-there are two friends, but I've lost sight of them for years. No-th

is forehead and bent over him. "You

d her. Tears came into her eyes. She had imagined him the darling of mother and sisters; the

tell me

. Paul S

two books in your knapsack.

Paul. "Noble

ght smote him. He beckoned. She approac

r he

d of my wa

te s

have it

cour

with Paul; Colonel Winwood was still at Contrexeville, whence he wrote sceptically of the rare bird whom Ursula had discovered; and Ursula was alone in the house, save for a girl friend who had no traffic with the sick-chamber. She had, therefore, much leisure to devote to Paul. Her brother's scepticism most naturally strengthened her belief in him. He was her discovery. He grew almost to be her invention. Just consider. Here was a young Greek god-everyone who had a bowing acquaintance with ancient sculpture immediately likened Paul to a Greek god, and Ursula was not so far different from her cultured fellow mortals as to liken him to anything else-here was a young Phoebus Apollo, all the more Olympian because of his freedom from earthly ties, fallen straight from the clouds. He had fallen at her feet. H

o just opposite the bed," he said one day. He had advanced so

She turned in her c

I was half off my head I used to mix you up together. She has su

t it pass without comment. "It's not a bad pho

anta Maria Formosa in Ve

painting, and had haunted the National Gallery, and knew by he

now it?" s

lied Paul, with a sigh. "It's th

n her chair. "How do you k

seen them, except one. The two angels by Melozzo da Forli are in St. Peter's at Rome. The Sposalia of Raphael is in the Breza, Milan. The Andrea del Sarto is in the Louvre. That's the one I

right," said

h the commonplace mask of clay. "And that," said he-"the Madonna being crowned-the Botticelli-is in the Uffizi at Florence. Walter Pater talks about it-you kno

ead my Pater as I ough

air like Ruskin, though, of course, if you get your mental winnowing machine in proper working order you can get the good grain out of Ruskin. 'The Stones of Venice' and 'The Seven Lamps' have taught me a lot. But you

Ministers had come for, guidance, meekly promised to send at once for Pat

the great Savelli was a Venetian general-of Roman family; and, strangel

relli-and had hesitated between the two. Thinking it no great harm, he wove into words the clamour of his cherished romance. "My parents

t your Italian

so," s

ere brought up by gua

mythical personages that might be connected with his career. "

uncared-for waif y

is true. But it has done me good. Don't you find it's the things one learns f

tle Paul-(how beautiful he must have been as a child!)-being brought up by servants

tions. They worked together unconsciously. Paul had to give some account of himself. He had blotted Bludston and his modeldom out of his existence. The passionate belief in his high and romantic birth was part of his being, and Miss Winwood's recognition was

ted. She found him well informed, with a curiously detailed knowledge of the everyday lives of the poor. It did not occur

st help us. There's an in

lighted," said

kinds of people, and they can't escape. I sent young Harry Gostling-Lord Ruthmere's son, you know-to look into a working girls

easy circumstances, living on the patrimony administered during his boyhood by a careless guardian. He shrank from undeceiving her. His dream was beginning to come true. He was accepted by one of the high caste as belonging to the world where princes and princesses dwelt serene. If only he could put the theatre behind him, as he had put the rest, and make a st

ntents, taken out by the man-servant and arranged in drawers by the nurse. His toilet paraphernalia was of the simplest and scantiest. His stock of frayed linen and darned underclothes made rather a poor

ee-hundreds of provincial actors, to say nothing of retired colonels and such-like derelicts, owe their salvation of body and soul to the absurd but hygienic pastime-and with a naturally true eye and a harmonious body trained to all demands on its suppleness in the gymnasium, proficiency had come with little trouble. He was a born golfer; for the physically perfect huma

essing table?" The nurse he

box, luckily tied

o burn it. He felt happier when all his belongings were stowed away

ling moustache that drooped despondently. But he had a square, obstinate chin, and his eyes, though they seldom smil

eable manners, of considerable cultivation, and apparently of no acquaintance. But what I can't make out is: what he does for a living, how he came to be half-starved on his walking tour-the doctor said so, you remember-wh

uth, in his physically helpless condition, who was really ingenuous, would have poured out his life's hist

s told me of them. But he hasn'

es he as

wo or three and twenty aspire to? Anything

what is

much like Uncle Edwar

d I wish he had stayed here long enough to be able to put

ood's arrival, and they were lingering over coffee in the great, picture-hung and softly lighted dining room. Having fixe

unhumorous dryness. "When the world was very young, my dear

ow it. No, don't say, 'How?' like Uncle Edward. He hasn't told me, but Nurse has-a heart-breaking history of socks and things. There's the doctor's diagnosis, too. I haven't forgotten. But the boy is too proud to cry poverty among strangers. He k

id Colone

ther than give your poverty away to absolute strangers to whom you were indebted, in the way this boy is indebted to us. Good God, Jim"-she sent her dessert knife skimming a

he first exquisite puff-the smoker's paradise would be the one first full and fragrant, virginal puff of an infinite success

the point of conviction. But there's a hole somewhere in your ar

nst Sisera, so did they fight for Paul; and in

ciation of his sister's judgment. After all, what business of his were the private affairs of his involuntary guest? He paid him a visit the ne

please. I'm C

down again and drew up the chair himself. "I'm afraid," said Paul, "I've been a sad trespasser on your hospita

wood, who (like the seniors of every age) deplored the lack of manners of

pulled you round. You'v

been for Miss Winwood and all she has

the Colonel. "When she sets out to

y life," sai

e his country disinterested service-no ambition but to keep himself on the level of the ideal which he had long since attained; the other the creation of nothing but of dreams, the child of the gutter, the adventurer, the vagabond, with no address, not even a back room over a sweetstuff shop in wide England, the possessor of a few suits of old clothes and one pound, one shilling and a penny, with nothing in front of him but the vast

it must be wonderful to be twenty. 'Rich in the g

ed Paul. "Thackeray went one be

y sister told me. You go about with

ice of books is limited by their cubical content. One c

derable human-a peasant of the Campagna, a Venetian gondolier, a swaggering brigand of Macedonia-could be astonishingly beautiful. And, being astonishingly beautiful, that was the beginning an

your Balzac

s," sai

d Colonel Winwood. "I'm r

l Winwood was the only human being who could claim acquaintance with one of the literary gods of his idolatry-"but I know him pretty well. I can't s

barriers between himself and the young enthusiast. "It's one of

s la Vallee,

's ano

ac, and Hulot, and Bixiou, and Lousteau, and Gobsec, and Gaudissart

ndred years," cried Paul, "and he could have

My sister said I mustn't tire you." He rose. "We're having a lot of people down here th

tact, "I'm afraid," said he modestly, "t

cried th

s tr

"It's not many young men," said he, "wh

f lying?" asked Paul, w

s chair and rested his hand on the back. "You play golf, anyh

s," sai

y g

to mid

Colonel, an enthusiastic though in

" sai

fifteen. You must give me a lesson or two whe

afraid I shall be well enough for ordinary purp

do you

isy. It will hang

el

ways from here lon

reat h

your wonderful hospitalit

. Stay as long a

aid Paul, "I would

ntic exterior of a Macedonian brigand, here was a young man of the period with astonishingly courteous manners, of-and this was of secondary consideration-of frank and winning charm, with a free-and-easy intimacy with Balzac, of fearless truthfulness

he, "you mustn't dre

rs and met his s

leam of quizzicality in her eyes

ke him out and teach him t