No More Learning

' I know, thank God, how to
render little services to an invalid, and how to divert him with
pleasant trifles. It's too bad he's so haughty! "
In truth, the Kardouon did not usually respond cordially to
Xailoun's advances, but vanished in the sand like a flash at his
approach; and did not pause until safe behind a stone or hillock,
to turn on him sidewise two sparkling eyes, which might have
made carbuncles envious.
Then clasping his hands, Xailoun would say respectfully,
"Alas, cousin! why do you run away from your friend and com-
rade? I ask only to follow and to serve you instead of my
brothers, for whom I would willingly die, but who are less kind
and charming than you. If you chance to need a good servant,
do not repel, as they do, your faithful Xailoun. »
But the Kardouon always went away; and Xailoun returned
to his mother, weeping because his cousin the Kardouon would
not speak to him.
This day his mother had driven him off, pushing him by the
shoulders and striking him in her anger.
"Clear out, good-for-nothing! " she said to him. "Go back
to your cousin the Kardouon, for you don't deserve any other
kin. "
As usual, Xailoun had obeyed; and he was looking for his
cousin the Kardouon.
"Oh! oh! " he said, as he reached the tree with the great
green boughs, "here's something new. My cousin the Kardouon
has gone to sleep in the shade here, where the streams meet.
When he wakes, will be a good chance to talk business. But
what the deuce is he guarding, and what does he mean to do
with all those funny bits of yellow lead? Brighten up his clothes,
perhaps. He may be thinking of marriage. Faith, the Kardouon
shops have their cheats too; for that metal looks coarse, and one
bit of my cousin's old coat is a thousand times better. However,
I'll see what he says if he's more talkative than usual: for I can
rest here; and as I'm a light sleeper, I am sure to wake as soon
as he does. "


## p. 10678 (#558) ##########################################

10678
CHARLES NODIER
Just as Xailoun was lying down, he had an idea.
"It's a cool night," he said, "and my cousin the Kardouon is
not used like me to sleeping along springs and in forests.
morning air is not healthy. "
The
Xailoun took off his coat and spread it lightly over the Kar-
douon, careful not to wake him. The Kardouon did not wake.
Then Xailoun slept profoundly, dreaming of friendship with
the Kardouon.
This is Xailoun's story.
THE FAKIR ABHOC
THE next day there came to this same spot the fakir Abhoc,
who had feigned to start on a pilgrimage, but who was really
hunting some windfall.
As he approached to rest at the spring he caught sight of
the treasure, embraced it in a glance, and quickly reckoned its
value on his fingers.
"Unlooked-for luck! " he cried, "which the merciful omnipo-
tent Lord at last vouchsafes my society, after so many years
of trial; and which, to render its conquest the easier, he has
deigned to place under the simple guard of an innocent lizard
and of a poor imbecile boy! "
I must tell you that the fakir Abhoc knew both Xailoun and
the Kardouon perfectly by sight.
"Heaven be praised in all things," he added, sitting down
a few steps away. "Good-by to the fakir's robe, to the long
fasts, to the hard mortifying of the flesh. I mean to change my
country and manner of life; and in the first kingdom that takes
my fancy, I'll buy some good province, which will yield a fat
revenue. Once established in my palace, I will give myself
up to enjoyment, among flowers and perfumes, in the midst of
pretty slaves, who will rock my spirits gently with their melo-
dious music, while I toss off exquisite wines from the largest of
my golden cups. I am growing old, and good wine gladdens
the heart of age. But this treasure is heavy, and it would ill
become a great territorial lord like myself, with a multitude of
servants and countless militia, to turn porter, even if no one
saw me. A prince must respect himself if he would win the
respect of his people. Besides, this peasant seems to have been
sent here expressly to serve me. He is strong as an ox, and


## p. 10679 (#559) ##########################################

CHARLES NODIER
10679
can easily carry my gold to the next village; and once there, I
will give him my monkish suit and some common money, such
as poor people use. "
After this fine soliloquy, the fakir Abhoc, sure that his treas-
ure was in no danger from either the Kardouon or poor Xailoun,
who knew its value as little, yielded willingly to sleep, dreaming
proudly of his harem, peopled with the rarest beauties of the
Orient, and of his Schiraz wine, foaming in golden cups.
This is the fakir Abhoc's story.
DOCTOR ABHAC
THE next day there came to the same place, Dr. Abhac, a
man versed in all law, who had lost his way while meditating an
ambiguous text of which the jurists had already given one hun-
dred and thirty-two different interpretations. He was about to
seize the one hundred and thirty-third when the sight of the treas-
ure made him forget it entirely, and transported his thought to
the ticklish subject of invention, property, and treasure.
It was
blotted from his memory so completely that he would not have
found it again in a hundred years. It is a great loss.
"It appears," said Dr. Abhac, "as though the Kardouon had
discovered the treasure, and I'll guaranty that he will not plead
his right of priority to claim his legal portion of the division.
Therefore the said Kardouon is excluded from the consideration.
As for the treasure and its ownership, I maintain that this is a
waste spot, common property of all and any, over which neither
State nor individual has rights. A fortunate feature of the
actual facts is this junction of running waters, marking, if I am
not mistaken, the disputed boundary between two warlike peo-
ples; and long and bloody wars being likely to arise from the
possible conflict of two jurisdictions. Therefore I would accom-
plish an innocent, legitimate, even provident act, if I were to
carry the treasure elsewhere, or take what I can. As for these
two adventurers, of whom one seems a poor woodcutter and the
other a wretched fakir, folks of neither name nor weight, they
have probably come here to sleep in order to make an amiable
division to-morrow; since they are unacquainted with both text
and commentary, and probably esteem themselves equal in force.
But they cannot extricate themselves without a lawsuit, upon that
I'll stake my reputation. But as I am growing sleepy from the


## p. 10680 (#560) ##########################################

10680
CHARLES NODIER
great perturbation of mind resulting from this business, I will
take formal possession by putting some of these pieces in my tur-
ban in order to prove publicly and decisively in court, if the case
is there evoked, the priority of my claims; since he who pos-
sesses the thing by desire of ownership, tradition of ownership,
and first possession, is presumably owner, according to the law. "
And Dr. Abhac fortified his turban with so many pieces of
proof that he spent a good part of the day, poor man, dragging
it to the spot where the shadow of the protecting boughs was
dying in the low rays of sun. Again and again he returned to
add new witnesses, until he finally decided to fill his turban and
risk sleeping bareheaded in the evening dew.
"I need not be anxious about waking," he said, leaning his
freshly shaven crown on the stuffed turban, which served as a
pillow. "These people will begin to dispute by dawn, and will
be glad enough to find a lawyer at hand, so I will be assured of
my part and parcel. "
After which Dr. Abhac slumbered magisterially, dreaming of
gold and of legal procedures.
This is the story of Dr. Abhac.
THE KING OF THE SANDS
THE next day toward sunset there came to the same spot a
famous bandit, whose name history has not preserved; but who
was the terror of the caravans throughout the country, and who,
from the heavy tributes he exacted, was called the King of the
Sands. He had never before come so far into the desert, for this.
route was little frequented by travelers; and the sight of the
spring and the shady boughs so rejoiced his heart, not often
awake to the beauties of nature, that he decided to stop for a
moment.
"Not a bad idea of mine," he murmured between his teeth
when he saw the treasure. "The Kardouon, following the imme-
morial custom of lizards and dragons, is guarding this heap of
gold with which he has no concern, and these three poor parasites
have come here together to divide it. If I try to take charge
of this booty while they are asleep I shall surely awaken the
Kardouon, who is always on the alert, and he will arouse these
scamps, and I'll have to deal with the lizard, the woodcutter, the
fakir, and the lawyer, who all want the prize, and are able to


## p. 10681 (#561) ##########################################

CHARLES NODIER
10681
fight for it. Prudence admonishes me to feign sleep beside them
until the shadows have fallen; and later, I'll profit by the dark-
ness to kill them one after another with a good blow of my
dagger. This is such a lonely spot that to-morrow I can easily
carry off all this wealth; and I'll not hurry away until I have
breakfasted off this Kardouon, whose flesh, my father used to say,
is very delicate. "
And he went to sleep in his turn, dreaming of pillage, assas-
sinations, and broiled Kardouons.
This is the story of the King of the Sands, who was a robber,
and so named to distinguish him from the others.
THE SAGE LOCKMAN
THE next day there came to the same spot Lockman the
Sage, poet and philosopher; Lockman, lover of men, preceptor of
peoples, and counselor of kings; Lockman, who often sought
remotest solitudes to meditate upon God and nature.
And Lockman walked slowly, enfeebled by age; for that day
he had reached the three-hundredth anniversary of his birth.
Lockman paused at the spectacle under the tree of the desert,
and reflected a moment.
"The picture offered my eyes by Divine bounty," at last he
exclaimed, “contains ineffable instruction, O sublime Creator of
all things; and as I contemplate, my soul is overwhelmed with
admiration for the lessons resulting from your works, and with
compassion for the senseless beings who ignore you.
"Here is a treasure, as men say, which may often have
given its owner repose of mind and soul.
"Here is the Kardouon, who has found these gold pieces, and
guided only by the feeble instinct you have given him, has mis-
taken them for slices of sun-dried roots.
"Here is poor Xailoun, whose eyes were dazzled by the Kar-
douon's splendor, because his mind could not reach you through
the shadows which envelop him like an infant's swaddling-clothes,
and fails to adore in this glorious apparel the omnipotent hand
which thus clad the humblest of creatures.
"Here is the fakir Abhoc, who has trusted in the natural
timidity of the Kardouon and the imbecility of Xailoun, in order
to possess himself of all this wealth, and to render his old age
opulent.


## p. 10682 (#562) ##########################################

10682
CHARLES NODIER
"Here is Dr. Abhac, who has reckoned on the debate sure to
arise upon the division of these deceitful vanities, that he may
institute himself mediator and decree himself a double share.
"Here is the King of the Sands, the last comer, revolving
fatal ideas and projects of death, in the usual manner of those
deplorable men abandoned to earthly passion. Perhaps he prom-
ised himself to murder the others during the night, as seems
likely from the violence with which his hand grasps his dagger.
"And all five are sleeping forever under the deadly shade of
the Upas, whose fatal seeds have been hurled here by some angry
gust from the depths of Javan forests. "
When he had spoken thus, Lockman bowed down, and wor-
shiped God.
And when he had risen, he passed his hand through his beard
and went on:
"The respect due the dead forbids us to leave their bodies a
prey to wild beasts. The living judge the living, but the dead
belong to God. "
—
And he loosened the pruning-knife from Xailoun's belt, with
which to dig three graves.
In the first grave he placed the fakir Abhoc.
In the second grave he placed Doctor Abhac.
In the third grave he buried the King of the Sands.
"As for thee, Xailoun," he soliloquized, "I will bear thee
beyond the deadly influence of the tree poison, so that thy friends,
if there be any on earth since the Kardouon's death, can weep
without danger at the spot of thy repose. And I will do this
also, my brother, because thou didst spread thy mantle over the
sleeping Kardouon to preserve him from cold. "
Then Lockman carried Xailoun far away, and dug him a
grave in a little ravine full of blossoms, bathed by springs of
the desert, under trees whose fronds floating in the wind spread
about them only freshness and fragrance.
And when this was done, Lockman passed his hand through
his beard a second time, and after reflection, went to fetch the
Kardouon which lay dead under the poison-tree of Java.
Then Lockman dug a fifth grave for the Kardouon, beyond
Xailoun's on a slope better exposed to the sun, whose dawning
rays arouse the gayety of lizards.
"God guard me from separating in death those who have
loved in life," said Lockman.


## p. 10683 (#563) ##########################################

CHARLES NODIER
1
10683
And when he had thus spoken, Lockman passed his hand
through his beard a third time, and after reflecting went back to
the foot of the Upas tree.
There he dug a very deep grave, and buried the treasure.
"This precaution may save the life of a man or a Kardouon,”
he said with an inward smile.
Then Lockman, greatly fatigued, went on his way to rest be-
side Xailoun's grave.
And he was quite exhausted when he reached it, and falling
on the earth commended his soul to God, and died.
This is the story of Lockman the Sage.
THE ANGEL
THE next day there came one of the spirits of God which you
have seen only in dreams.
He floated, rose, sometimes seemed lost in the eternal azure,
then descended again, balanced himself at heights which thought
cannot measure, on large blue wings like a giant butterfly.
As he approached, he waved his golden curls and let himself
rock on the currents of air, throwing out his ivory arms and
abandoning his head to all the little clouds of heaven.
Then he alighted on the slender boughs without bending a
leaf or a blossom, and then he flew with caressing wings around
the new-made grave of Xailoun.
"What! " he cried, "is Xailoun dead? Xailoun, whom heaven
awaits for his innocence and simplicity? "
And from his large blue wings he dropped a little feather,
which suddenly took root and grew into the most beautiful
plume ever seen over a royal coffin. This he did to mark the
spot.
Then he saw the poet asleep in death as in a joyful dream,
his features laughing with peace and happiness.
"My Lockman too," said the Angel, "desired to grow young
again to resemble us, although he had passed only a few seasons
among men,-who, alas! have not had time to profit by his
lessons. Yes, come, my brother, come with me; awake from
death to follow me. Come to eternal day, come to God. "
At the same time he placed a kiss of resurrection on Lock-
man's brow, raised him lightly from his bed of moss, and hurried


## p. 10684 (#564) ##########################################

10684
CHARLES NODIER
him into a heaven so deep that the eyes of eagles could not
follow them.
This is the Angel's story.
THE END OF THE GOLDEN DREAM
WHAT I have just told happened infinite ages ago, and the
name of the sage Lockman has lingered ever since in the mem-
ory of men.
And ever since, the Upas tree has stretched out the branches
whose shadow means death between the waters which flow eter-
nally.
This is the story of the World.


## p. 10685 (#565) ##########################################

10685
WILLIAM EDWARD NORRIS
(1847-)
ILLIAM E. NORRIS's first novel, Heaps of Money' (London,
1877), was published in the Cornhill Magazine as a serial,
when he was not quite twenty-one years of age.
He was
born in London in 1847, was educated at Eton, went on the Continent
to study foreign languages as a preparation for diplomatic science,
changed his plans, and in 1874 came to the bar, but never practiced,
having already tasted the success of his first book. Since that time
Mr. Norris has devoted himself to the pro-
fession of literature. His home is at Tor-
quay, alternating during the winter between
Algiers and the Riviera.

Mr. Norris seems to have come into the
world like Minerva, full armed. Heaps of
Money' has the maturity of view, the sim-
plicity of diction, the quiet humor, and the
minuteness of observation of a veteran in
novel-writing. Its author showed that he
had not only the power to reflect on life in
its hypocrisies and petty social strivings,
but he had the half-cynical air of a man of
the world defending in tolerant fashion its
sins and its shams. Instead of posing as
preacher or reformer, the author took the more adroit way of seem-
ing to sneer at himself and his craft, and in ironical self-assertion
cleverly disarmed criticism.
He had seen perhaps that the time had gone by for sweeping in-
dictments, and that not the Juvenalian scourge but the Horatian flick
drove men to righteousness. Another characteristic of this first book
was the air of calm leisure that pervaded its quiet sentences; but the
reader, suspecting platitudes, soon found that the irony infused gave
them a delicious flavor. Lord Keswick, pressed by his father to
marry and extricate himself from his debts, urges plaintively that he
is not a domestic man. "Am I a domestic man ? " retorts his father.
And to tell the truth, he certainly was not. The hypocrisy of Mr.
Howard, the heroine's father, is amiably excused. "Some people,
knowingly or unknowingly, are perpetually playing parts, from their
WILLIAM E. NORRIS


## p. 10686 (#566) ##########################################

10686
WILLIAM EDWARD NORRIS
cradle to their death-bed. Very likely they can't help themselves,
and ought only to be pitied for having an exaggerated idea of the
fitness of things. "
'Heaps of Money' was followed in 1880 by Mademoiselle de
Mersac,' a story played in Algiers, in which the author created two
of the most finished portraits in modern fiction: St. Luc, the blasé
cynical man of the world, who falls in love with the fresh young
girl Jeanne de Mersac, and serves her with a devotion half paternal,
half passionate, and wholly incomprehensible to her; and Jeanne her-
self, the incarnation of high-minded obstinacy and fierce maidenhood.
The plot of 'Mademoiselle de Mersac' is not new; but "the exquisite
touch which renders ordinary characters and commonplace things
interesting," to quote Scott of Miss Austin, of whom Norris may well
claim literary descent, is not denied him.
'Matrimony,' which was published the next year, abounds in deli-
cate characterizations and in «< character parts," as they are called on
the stage: the sage bore Mr. Flemyng, Admiral Bagshawe, and Gen-
eral Blair. Nothing is easier than to moralize in a certain fashion,
and truisms about life commend themselves to the ordinary mind.
Mr. Flemyng bristles with undisputed facts, retailed in conversations
in which the reader is sufficiently disinterested to be an amused
listener. Mr. Gervis in the same novel, if not as striking is as finely
drawn a portrait as St. Luc,- a cultured cynic who poses as doing
his kind deeds to spare himself the trouble of refusing.
In the long list of novels that succeed 'Matrimony,' Norris pre-
sents characters that are seldom planned on a higher scale than our-
selves; and yet at his will they stimulate our imagination and our
affection. As has been said of Thackeray's heroes, they have an
ideal of human conduct, and an aspiration, which though far from
conventional is yet noble and elevating. Women owe him a debt
for his championship of maidenhood. His young girl is as wild and
as free, to borrow Mr. Andrew Lang's simile, as Horace's "latis equa
trima campis. " He does not take for granted that a fresh young
creature, loving her parents and her brothers and sisters with all her
heart, will at her first dance fall headlong in love with the first man
who admires her. He endows her, on the contrary, with a girlish
perversity, a high-spirited resistance to the intruding element, as her
lover appears to her; and the plot often turns on the obstacles she
persists in erecting between herself and the man she loves.
We travel with Mr. Norris on level roads: his gentlemen are gen-
tlemen, even when they are villains; his heroes thoroughly good fel-
lows, with a talent for epigram; his heroines sweet English roses, set
about with little prickly thorns-till unexpectedly we come upon a
scene instinct with tragedy and pathos. The latter he uses sparingly
―――


## p. 10687 (#567) ##########################################

WILLIAM EDWARD NORRIS
10687
and with judgment.
There is no attempt to touch the feelings when
Margaret Stanniforth, most charming of women though neither young
nor beautiful, dies; and the short death scene in 'Mademoiselle de
Mersac is pathetic by the contrast between death and the abundant
strength and youth of Jeanne. One is as much affected, perhaps,
when M. de Fontvieille consigns Jeanne to Mr. Ashley, whose comic
agony lest the Frenchman embrace him heightens the sadness of
the simple old man's leave-taking; and again in a less known novel,
'My Friend Jim,' when the old worldling the Marquis of Staines
revisits the Eton playing-fields, and spends the summer day in recol-
lections of his boyhood.
In these scenes the effect is so spontaneous, so easily brought
about, that a lesser artist would use his gift oftener. But Mr. Norris
exercises a wise restraint on this dangerous ground. And if he is
conservative in his emotions, of all his generation he is the most
conservative in his traditions. His novels, as far as they portray the
ideas of the end of the nineteenth century, might have been written
a hundred years ago. The New Woman does not appear between
the covers of his books; social and economic problems are ignored.
Money and the want of it, caste and striving for it, occupy his char-
acters. His sympathies are apparently entirely with Mrs. Rawdon
Crawley when she exclaimed pathetically, "How good I could be on
£5,000 a year! "
But the lover of Norris is not inclined to find fault with the com-
pany he keeps. For very variety, he enjoys the society of Norris's
gentlepeople as a contrast to the sordid, the diseased, the poverty-
stricken, that crowd the pages of contemporary novelists. With some-
thing of cynicism and something of pathos, Norris combines a healthy
good-humor and a distaste for the withered side of life.
His vigor-
ous character Mrs.
Winnington in 'No New Thing' knew the world,
and was not so simple as to believe that any sincere and conscien-
tious people except herself lived in it; but Kenyon's devotion to
Margaret Stanniforth, and Margaret's love for and fidelity to her dead
husband, refute all her evil thinking. Virtue rewarded, scapegraces
apologized for, human nature regarded with tenderness and pity, are
characteristics of Norris's predecessors rather than of writers of his
own time; and for a pure, refined, and scholarly style unaffected
sentiment, and quiet humor such as his, we must go back to his
master, Thackeray.


## p. 10688 (#568) ##########################################

10688
WILLIAM EDWARD NORRIS
FREDDY CROFT: AND THE LYNSHIRE BALL
From Matrimony'
TH
HIS history is less the result of personal observation than of
information received at various times and from divers trust-
worthy sources; and if, in writing it, I had to confine
myself to the relation of such incidents as I could swear to in
a court of justice, I should not only be obliged to cut out many
scenes of a most interesting and pathetic nature, but some of the
characters who will make their appearance in due course would
have to be omitted altogether. As for this yeomanry ball, I saw
little more of it than did Lord Courtney, whose august counte-
nance was withdrawn from the assembly after a short quarter of
an hour. The truth is, that my dancing days are over; and I
was able to retire early, with the happy conviction that nobody
would notice my absence.
Before midnight the greater part of the ladies and gentlemen
present had done likewise; for it is not, or rather used not to
be, considered the thing to linger over-long at these entertain-
ments, which are intended rather for the amusement of the
men than of their superiors. Lady Lynchester, a thin, washed-
out looking person, who had never been heard to laugh in her
life, rose from her seat at the end of the room as soon as her
lord signaled to her that she was free to go; and the Beach-
borough contingent, ever scrupulous in the strict observance of
etiquette, hastened to follow her ladyship's lead. The land-
owners from distant parts of the country, who had a long drive
between themselves and home, collected their respective wives
and daughters, and trooped off in a body; the departure of some
stragglers, loitering near the doorway in hopes of seeing a little
of the fun, being hastened by Lord Lynchester, who began to
stalk about with his hands behind his back, wondering audibly
what the deuce those people were sticking there for.
But when the last of these had disappeared, there still re-
mained a few of what the noble and gallant Colonel called "the
right sort," privileged persons, who were known to entertain no
objection to a romp, and could be relied upon to tell no tales
next day. Conspicuous among the latter was Miss Croft, "a
downright jolly girl, with no stuck-up nonsense about her," to
-


## p. 10689 (#569) ##########################################

WILLIAM EDWARD NORRIS
10689
use Lord Lynchester's words; "just like her brother, only more
so, you know," -a description so terse and accurate that no
further space need be taken up in introducing her to the reader.
Miss Lambert, although an outsider, was included in the circle.
of choice spirits, probably because she carried her credentials.
in her face; and there were three or four young ladies besides,
whose names it is unnecessary to record.
During the early part of the evening, an unspoken convention.
had divided the ball-room into two halves, the officers and their
friends sitting and dancing at the upper end of it, while the
larger and humbler portion of the assemblage disported itself at
the lower; but now this imaginary barrier was swept away, to-
gether with all irksome class distinctions, and the whole floor was
at the disposition of the dancers. Now, when we dance in Lyn-
shire, we do it with a will: not skimming languidly and dreamily.
over the polished surface, nor lurching heavily round and round
on the same spot, like humming-tops tottering to their fall, as
the fashion of some effeminate citizens is; but taking a firm grip
of our partner's waist and hand, putting down our heads, and
starting off at a pace as good as we can make it, helter-skelter,
every man for himself, and devil take the hindmost.
The conse-
quences of this energetic method, when adopted by some seventy
couples in a long and narrow room, may be easily imagined.
Before the first waltz was at an end, many a stalwart yeoman
had measured his length upon the well-waxed floor, and the
elbows of more than one fair maiden were scratched and bruised.
Every now and then a faint shriek rose from the midst of the
mêlée, or a manly voice was heard to expostulate for a moment;
but the predominant sound was that of laughter, and hard knocks
seemed to be distributed pretty evenly all round, upon an ami-
cable give-and-take principle. Fat little Wilkins the butcher,
pounding blindly ahead, and sawing the air with outstretched
arm, brought his fist down with a thump on the middle of Lord
Lynchester's back, and instead of turning pale and trembling, as
he would have done at any other time after such a mishap,
bobbed off again as merrily as ever with a "Beg pardon, m' lord.
Didn't see yer-haw, haw, haw! " For indeed the supper-room
had been open for half an hour, and it is not on every day of
the year that a man can drink the best of champagne and pay
nothing for it.
XVIII-669


## p. 10690 (#570) ##########################################

'10690
WILLIAM EDWARD NORRIS
"All right, Wilkins! " shouted Lord Lynchester after him;
"I'll make it hot for you in a minute. "
And presently, sure enough, his Lordship, having secured an
efficient partner in Miss Croft, darted off in pursuit of the delin-
quent, and proceeded to waltz round and round him in an ever-
contracting circle till he reduced him to such a state of giddiness
that he was fain to lean against the wall and gasp. Then with
a deft and rapid thrust in the ribs, which caused the luckless
butcher to exclaim aloud, "O lord! " he returned to his starting-
point, and throwing himself down upon a bench, gave way to a
peal of merriment in which Miss Croft joined heartily.
Claud Gervis looked on at all this horse-play with rather
wide-opened eyes. Was it in this manner that the aristocracy
of Great Britain was accustomed to take its relaxation? he won-
dered. Of the manners and habits of his native land he was
almost entirely ignorant. At Eton he had, of course, associated
with many young sprigs of nobility; but rank is not recognized
among boys, and Claud's impression of an English lord, which
was that commonly current in foreign countries, had received
confirmation from such specimens of the race as Lord Courtney
and an occasional ambassador or minister plenipotentiary who
had come in his way.
"What are you thinking of? " inquired his partner, that pretty
Miss Flemyng of whom mention has already been made. « You
look quite horrified. "
"No, I am not horrified," the young man said; "but I am
rather surprised, I admit. It is all so very different from what
I expected. I did not think we English were ever so-so up-
roarious. Surely it is not usual at a ball to try and knock down
as many people as one can. "
"Well, hardly," answered Miss Flemying laughing. "But this
is a yeomanry ball, you must remember; and besides, all the
quiet, respectable people are supposed to be gone, away. ”
"But Lady Croft is still here, and Miss Lambert - not to men-
tion present company. "
"Lady Croft is here because Florry won't go away; and Miss
Lambert is here because she is Miss Lambert, I suppose; and
I am here because I came with the Crofts. You need not say
anything about it when papa comes to call upon you, by the
He is like you- rather easily shocked. "
way.
H


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"I am not easily shocked," returned Claud, resenting such an
imputation with the natural fervor of a very young man.
"No? I thought you looked so.
I am sure I should be
shocked myself, if I had lived abroad all my life, and had made.
my first acquaintance with English society to-night.
But you
mustn't suppose that Lynshire always conducts itself like this.
We can behave as nicely as any one else in London; only when
we find ourselves all together in our own part of the world,
we think we may put on our country manners. And we are all
rather savages, as you see. "
Miss Flemyng did not look at all like a savage. Claud, who
was rather more observant of trifles than most men, had noticed
that the dress she wore was assuredly not the handiwork of a
provincial artist, and that her abundant brown locks were ar-
ranged in accordance with the latest mode. She moved and held.
herself in the indescribable style which only a woman of the
world can acquire: her manner was perfectly easy and natural,
and she seemed to be upon terms of the friendliest familiarity
with the young men who spoke to her, from time to time, as
she stood watching the dance; but she was not loud, like her
friend Miss Croft, nor did she make use of the schoolboy's slang
which formed so large a portion of that young lady's conversa-
tion. Her chief claim to beauty, setting aside those of a neat,
well-proportioned little figure and a general air of finish, consisted
in a pair of dark-gray eyes, which had been turned innocently
upon Claud's more than once in the course of the evening, and
had not failed to produce a certain impression upon him. He
was glad to hear that Miss Flemyng lived within a few miles
of Beachborough, for he thought he would decidedly like to see
more of her.
"I am not going to dance any more," she said, after she and
her partner had completed one perilous circuit of the room: "it's
too hot and dusty and disagreeable. Do you think there is a
balcony beyond that window, where the ferns are? If there is,
we might go and sit there. "
"I know there is," answered Claud, "because I was there
earlier in the evening. And there is a particularly comfortable
sofa there too, where we can sit and watch the sea; which after
all is a much pleasanter thing to look at on a hot night than
those fat yeomen. "


## p. 10692 (#572) ##########################################

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WILLIAM EDWARD NORRIS
And now an awkward incident took place, which shows how
thoughtless it is of people to bounce unexpectedly into dark cor-
Claud pushed open the half-closed French window to let
Miss Flemyng pass, and following closely upon her heels-"Here
is the sofa," said he.
ners.
There it was, sure enough; and there also were two persons
seated upon it. Moreover, one of these persons happened to be
in the very act of kissing the other. And then, as fate would
have it, at that precise moment the moon emerged from behind
a cloud, and threw a fine flood of silvery light upon the figures
of Freddy Croft and Miss Lambert. The situation was a some-
what embarrassing one; and Claud did not mend matters by
hastily whisking round and gazing out to the sea, with an utterly
unsuccessful pretense of having seen nothing.
Miss Flemyng was less taken aback. She calmly surveyed the
luckless couple for a second, which must have seemed to them an
age; and then, stooping to pick up the train of her long dress,
stepped quietly back into the ball-room.
She was laughing a little when her partner rejoined her.
"How too ridiculous! " she exclaimed. "I shall never forget
poor Freddy's face. I hope you are discreet, and can keep a
secret, Mr. Gervis. "
"Of course I can," answered Claud. "I wish it had not hap-
pened, though. Croft will think it so stupid of me; and really it
almost looked as if we had done it on purpose. "
"Oh, he won't mind," said Miss Flemyng placidly. "Freddy
is always kissing people, and always getting caught. I daresay
Miss What's-her-name won't mind much either: she looks as if
she was quite accustomed to that kind of thing. "
"She may be engaged to be married to him, you know,"
remarked Claud, feeling bound to say a word for the unfortunate
lady whom his awkwardness had compromised.
"Oh, I do hope not. Poor dear little fellow! I should be so
very sorry if he were to fall into such a trap as that. He and
I have known one another since we were children, and he gener
ally tells me about all his love affairs; but I have been away,
and have never seen that monstrosity of a girl till this evening
You don't think there is really any danger, do you? "
Without knowing why, Claud felt vaguely annoyed by the
anxious ring of Miss Flemyng's voice. "I can't tell anything


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WILLIAM EDWARD NORRIS
10693
about it," he answered rather shortly. "He seems to admire
her very much, and they are always together. "
"Well, I wish they were not together now; or at least that
they were together anywhere except in the one cool place in
the building," remarked Miss Flemyng with a laugh. "We shall
have to take refuge on the staircase, I suppose. "
To the staircase they accordingly betook themselves; and in
that pleasant, untrammeled intercourse which is apt to arise
between young men and women under such circumstances, and
which, remote though it may be from serious love-making, is
generally sweetened by some of the charms which attach to the
unknown and the possible, Claud soon forgot all about Freddy
Croft and his destinies. But when the last dance was over, and
Claud was putting on his coat in the hall, his friend joined him.
with a face preternaturally long, and said in a solemn voice:-
"I say, Gervis, let me walk a bit of the way with you, will
you? I want to speak to you. ”
"Come along," said Claud. "Will you have a cigar? "
"Oh no," Freddy answered, shaking his head lugubriously:
"I don't want to smoke. "
He kept silence until he and his companion had reached the
outskirts of the town, and then began: —
"Do you know, Gervis, I have made an everlasting fool of
myself. "
"Ah! I can guess what you mean. I saw you doing it,
didn't I? "
"I suppose you did. At least you saw me kissing the girl.
But dear me, that was nothing, you know. "
"Wasn't it? "
"I mean, of course, it was all right. I knew you and Nina
Flemyng were safe enough; and really it was the sort of thing
that might have happened to anybody. But by George, sir! "
continued Freddy impressively, "do you know what that girl did
as soon as you were gone? "
"Burst into tears? " suggested Claud.
"Not she! Began to laugh, and said that now we had been
so neatly caught, the best thing we could do was 'to give out
our engagement at once. ' thought she was chaffing at first;
but she wasn't-deuce a bit! She was as serious as I am now. "
I
"I can quite believe it. "


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WILLIAM EDWARD NORRIS
"Well, but, my dear fellow," resumed Freddy impatiently,
"don't you see what a horrid mess I am in? I never meant
anything of that kind at all; and how was I to suppose that she
did?
I don't want to marry anybody; and Miss Lambert of all
people! She's a very jolly girl, and a first-rate dancer, and all
that; but as for spending the rest of one's life with her- Oh,
I'm simply done for, and I shall go and drown myself in the
harbor. "
"I don't think I would decide upon doing that quite yet,"
remarked the other young man pensively.
"What would you do, if you were in my place? "
"I should run away, I think. Have you committed yourself
to anything definite ? »
"Oh no.
In point of fact, I rather tried to laugh the whole
thing off; but she wouldn't have that at any price. And the
worst of it is, I'm afraid she has told her mother. The old girl
gave me a very queer sort of look when I put her into her car-
riage, and said she would expect to see me to-morrow afternoon. ”
"And what did you say to that? "
"I? Oh, I said 'Good-night. '
"That was vague enough, certainly," observed Claud laugh-
ing. "Well, I have an idea. I think I can get you out of this.
Only you must promise me not to see Mrs. or Miss Lambert till
you hear from me again. Most likely I shall be with you before
the afternoon. "
"My dear fellow, I won't stir out of my bedroom," answered
the affrighted baronet earnestly. "I'll stay in bed, if you like.
Oh, if only I escape this time, not another woman under sixty
years of age do I speak to! "
MRS. WINNINGTON'S EAVESDROPPING
From No New Thing'
M
RS. WINNINGTON was a person of the fine-lady type, common
enough twenty years or so ago, but now rapidly becoming
extinct. Of a commanding presence, and with the remains
of considerable beauty, she was always dressed handsomely, and
in bright, decided colors; she carried a gold-mounted double
eye-glass, through which she was accustomed to survey inferior


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WILLIAM EDWARD NORRIS
10695
mortals with amusing impertinence, while in speaking to them,
her voice assumed a drawl so exaggerated as to render her valu-
able remarks almost unintelligible at times. These little graces
of manner had doubtless come to her from a study of the best
models, for she went a good deal into the fashionable world at
that time; but in addition to these, she possessed a complacent
density and an unfeigned self-confidence which were all her own,
and which would probably have sufficed at any epoch, and under
any circumstances, to render her at once as disagreeable and as
contented a woman as could have been found under the sun.
Whether because she resented the slight put upon her by the
Brunes, in that they had never seen fit to call at the Palace, or
because she had an inkling that their pride surpassed her own
vainglory, she made up her mind to snub them; and when Mrs.
Winnington made up her mind to any course of action, it was
usually carried through with a will. The plainness with which
these worthy folks were given to understand that, in her opinion,
they were no better than country bumpkins, and the mixture
of patronage and insolence with which she bore herself towards
them, were in their way inimitable. There are some people mag-
nanimous enough, or indifferent enough, to smile at such small
discourtesies; and probably the former owner of Longbourne was
more amused than angry when he was informed that the house
had been a positive pig-sty before it had been put in order, and
that Mrs. Winnington really could not imagine how any one had
found it possible to live in such a place.
When she reached home she found the drawing-room and
library untenanted; Margaret and Edith having, it was to be
presumed, gone out for a walk. Now it was a habit of Mrs.
Winnington's, whenever she found the house empty, to prowl all
over it, peeping into blotting-books, opening drawers, occasion-
ally going so far as to read letters that might be lying handy,
and as Mrs. Prosser, who hated her with a perfect hatred,
would say "poking and rummaging about as any under-house-
maid that I caught at such tricks should be dismissed immediate,
and no character given. "
It is probable that Mrs. Winnington saw no harm at all in
such pokings and rummagings. Her daughters, she would have
said, had no secrets from her, or at all events ought not to
have any. Nor had she any particular end to serve in entering
other people's bedrooms. For some occult reason it gave her
-
-


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WILLIAM EDWARD NORRIS
pleasure to do so; and the present occasion being favorable for
the gratifying of her tastes, she proceeded to profit by it. First
she made a thorough examination of all the reception-rooms;
then she went up-stairs, and spent some time in overhauling the
contents of Margaret's wardrobe; and then she passed on to the
room at that time occupied by Edith, which opened out of a long
corridor where the family portraits had hung in the days when
the owners of Longbourne had possessed a family to be thus com-
memorated. This corridor had a peculiarity. It terminated in a
small gallery, resembling a theatre box or one of those pews
which are still to be met with in a few old-fashioned churches,
whence you looked down upon a curious apse-like chamber,
tacked on to the house by a seventeenth-century Brune for some
purpose unknown. It may have been intended to serve as a
theatre, or possibly as a private chapel; of late years it had
fallen into disuse, being a gloomy and ill-lighted apartment, and
was seldom entered by anybody, except by the housemaids who
swept it out from time to time. Some one, however, was in it
now.
Mrs. Winnington, with her hand on the lock of her daugh-
ter's door, was startled by the sound of voices arising from that
quarter, and it was a matter of course that she should at once
make her way along the passage as stealthily as might be, and
peer over the edge of the gallery to see what might be going on
below.
She arrived in time to witness a scene so startling that she
very nearly put a dramatic finish to it then and there by falling
headlong over the balustrade, which was a low one. Upon an
ottoman, directly beneath her, her daughter Edith was sitting
in a very pretty and graceful attitude: her elbow resting on her
knee and her face hidden by her right hand, while her left was
held by Walter Brune, who was kneeling at her feet. And this
is what that audacious young reprobate was saying, in accents
which rose towards the roof with perfect distinctness:
"Now, my darling girl, you must not allow yourself to be
so cowed by that awful old mother of yours. There! I beg
your pardon: I didn't intend to speak disrespectfully of her, but
it came out before I could stop myself. What I mean is, you
mustn't let her bully you to that extent that you daren't call
your soul your own. Stand up to her boldly, and depend upon
it she'll knock under in the long run. When all's said and
done, she can't eat you alive. "


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The feelings of the astounded listener overhead may be im-
agined.
"Ah, you don't understand," sighed Edith. "It is easy enough
for a man to talk of standing up for himself; but you don't con-
sider how different it is with us. "
"But I do understand -I do consider," declared Walter,
scrambling up to his feet. "I know it's awfully hard upon
you, my dearest; but wouldn't it be harder still to marry some
decrepit old lord to please your mother, and to be miserable and
ashamed of yourself for the rest of your life? "
At this terrible picture Edith shuddered eloquently.
"So you see it's a choice of evils," continued the young man.
"Some people, I know, would think it was a great misfortune for
you that you should have come to care for a poor beggar like
me; but I am not going to say that because I don't believe it is
a real misfortune at all. How can it be a misfortune to love
the man who loves you better than any one else in the world
can possibly do, and who will always love you just the same as
long as he lives? »
"Upon my word! " ejaculated Mrs. Winnington inaudibly.