You will be able to be down there entertaining a certain amount,but we must have a house within easy reach of Town.Only Ducie Street has huge drawbacks.There's a mews behind."Margaret could not help laughing.It was the first she had heard of the mews behind Ducie Street.When she was a possible tenant it had suppressed itself,not consciously,but automatically.
The breezy Wilcox manner,though genuine,lacked the clearness of vision that is imperative for truth.When Henry lived in Ducie Street he remembered the mews;when he tried to let he forgot it;and if anyone had remarked that the mews must be either there or not,he would have felt annoyed,and afterwards have found some opportunity of stigmatizing the speaker as academic.So does my grocer stigmatize me when I complain of the quality of his sultanas,and he answers in one breath that they are the best sultanas,and how can I expect the best sultanas at that price?
It is a flaw inherent in the business mind,and Margaret may do well to be tender to it,considering all that the business mind has done for England.
"Yes,in summer especially,the mews is a serious nuisance.The smoking room,too,is an abominable little den.
The house opposite has been taken by operatic people.Ducie Street's going down,it's my private opinion.""How sad!It's only a few years since they built those pretty houses.""Shows things are moving.Good for trade."
"I hate this continual flux of London.It is an epitome of us at our worst--eternal formlessness;all the qualities,good,bad,and indifferent,streaming away--streaming,streaming for ever.
That's why I dread it so.I mistrust rivers,even in scenery.
Now,the sea--"
"High tide,yes."
"Hoy toid"--from the promenading youths.
"And these are the men to whom we give the vote,"observed Mr.Wilcox,omitting to add that they were also the men to whom he gave work as clerks--work that scarcely encouraged them to grow into other men."However,they have their own lives and interests.
Let's get on."
He turned as he spoke,and prepared to see her back to The Bays.The business was over.His hotel was in the opposite direction,and if he accompanied her his letters would be late for the post.She implored him not to come,but he was obdurate.
"A nice beginning,if your aunt saw you slip in alone!""But I always do go about alone.Considering I've walked over the Apennines,it's common sense.You will make me so angry.I don't the least take it as a compliment."He laughed,and lit a cigar."It isn't meant as a compliment,my dear.I just won't have you going about in the dark.Such people about too!It's dangerous.""Can't I look after myself?I do wish--"
"Come along,Margaret;no wheedling."
A younger woman might have resented his masterly ways,but Margaret had too firm a grip of life to make a fuss.She was,in her own way,as masterly.If he was a fortress she was a mountain peak,whom all might tread,but whom the snows made nightly virginal.
Disdaining the heroic outfit,excitable in her methods,garrulous,episodical,shrill,she misled her lover much as she had misled her aunt.He mistook her fertility for weakness.He supposed her "as clever as they make 'em,"but no more,not realizing that she was penetrating to the depths of his soul,and approving of what she found there.
And if insight were sufficient,if the inner life were the whole of life,their happiness has been assured.
They walked ahead briskly.The parade and the road after it were well lighted,but it was darker in Aunt Juley's garden.As they were going up by the side-paths,through some rhododendrons,Mr.Wilcox,who was in front,said "Margaret"rather huskily,turned,dropped his cigar,and took her in his arms.
She was startled,and nearly screamed,but recovered herself at once,and kissed with genuine love the lips that were pressed against her own.It was their first kiss,and when it was over he saw her safely to the door and rang the bell for her,but disappeared into the night before the maid answered it.On looking back,the incident displeased her.It was so isolated.Nothing in their previous conversation had heralded it,and,worse still,no tenderness had ensued.
If a man cannot lead up to passion he can at all events lead down from it,and she had hoped,after her complaisance,for some interchange of gentle words.But he had hurried away as if ashamed,and for an instant she was reminded of Helen and Paul.
