Jacky S - Suburban Souls, Book I

When I write and tell her my grief at being suspected of paltry mendacity, she replies immediately that she is ready to marry me. She would have no hesitation in linking her existence to a blackguard who would lie to a woman for two sovereigns.

I could only find one excuse for her. She suffers from anemia or chlorosis. There is evidently psychopathic deterioration, and she is a neurotic subject.

Masturbation and unnatural practices before the age of puberty have produced neurasthenia, with its attendant symptoms. It is a clear case of hysteria.

No doubt she had been often received in her mother's bed, and Arvel had played with her as a mere child. The mother shut her eyes to his behavior, finding that his passion for her daughter kept him at home.

She cooked for him, and allowed her girl to romp with him. Here is the explanation of the door of communication being taken down between the two rooms.

Raoul has also had funny little games with his sister. As children, Arvel encouraged them. Now that Lilian is a woman, he becomes jealous of the lad. They were not always well off, and pigged together in one small lodging. And Charlotte, who sleeps with both sister and brother in turn? When they are all three in London, what barriers of shame can exist between them? And, to cap all, when Papa is in England with both girls and no mother by, what goes on then?

No wonder Mamma was jealous of her daughter at the beginning of the summer.

And Lilian's lie to me is easy to explain. On the eleventh of November she is in the height of her flow. She has a fit of weeping, a mental and emotional sign of irritability and instability, impairing her integrity, and rendering an unbalanced individual like this morbid girl capable of any villany while in such an emotional state.

If she were still a virgin, she would not be long, before she got penetrated by the male, and perhaps the work was being done as I wrote these lines, at the end of November, 1898.

All the best and most sacred part of my love was gone. Lust alone remained. The idea of her being the mistress of her mother's old lover still excited me. I bow my head, as I confess that the thought of this loathsome liaison stirred up my secret erotic longings, even as the plan of the visit to a brothel might inflame a man of tranquil spirit. He knows that he is going there to choose a mercenary, common female who will give him an imitation of love for a few coins. It is disgusting, and he is well aware of it, but he goes there all the same. He is sensually excited and that is enough for him.

So I felt with regard to Lilian, but I was saved, as I began to judge her, and what was better, I judged myself.

I felt strong, and proof against her wiles, or any future lies, for what harm can come to a man from wicked womanly intrigues, which he despises himself and has no vanity for the sirens to play upon?

But I never forgot this particular lie of Lilian's. I may pardon her perhaps some day, for who and what am I, that I should refuse to forgive a neurasthenic woman? But forget it-never!

Immediately before and immediately after the advent of her “courses" her sentiment of actual desire would doubtless increase, as she had caused me to be invited just on the day when she was menstruating. She was no longer unwell on the twenty-fifth or twenty-seventh, but had jumped to the middle of the month.

Last year, I had sent Papa and Mamma a parcel of smoked fish. On the eighth of December 1898, I repeated my little attention, and on the twelfth, the post brought me this note, which is dated the tenth, and bears the postmark of the following day.

LILIAN TO JACKY.

Sonis-sur-Marne. December 10, 1898.

My dear M. S.,

We have just received a parcel of delicious fish. Naturally, we suppose that it is you who, according to your charming custom, have had that delicate attention, for nobody but you could show himself so amiable in everything.

Mamma begs me to be her interpreter with you, so as to thank you, and charges me to tell you that she would have been very happy to have you for lunch and dinner, but she will not bore you beyond measure with the society of two women, knowing well that it is preferable that Papa should be there to receive you better. Therefore, we put off the pleasure of having you amongst us until the return of Papa.

Mamma joins me in begging you to accept the assurance of our sincere friendship,

LILIAN ARVEL.

Here is news of her during menstruation, or when she is due; a sure sign of nervous, psychic trouble, for this note came exactly a month after her last “turn.”

I did not write, as it would have been uncalled for, and I heard nothing of Lilian until the morning of Boxing Day.

LILIAN TO JACKY.

Sonis-sur-Marne. December 25, 1898.

We hope you have spent a Merry Christmas and that the New Year may bring with it the realization of your wishes.

We have Monsieur and Madame Poqui, “local residents,” to dine with us to-morrow, Monday night. They are very simple people. The lady is an excellent pianist. Will you come down in the afternoon to go for a walk and dine with us? There will be no ceremony or dress. “Dog clothes" allowed.

Papa brought you over some tobacco and a thousand matches.

With every good wish, believe me to remain,

Yours very sincerely,

LILIAN ARVEL.

December 26, 1898.

According to French custom, I was bound at this festive time of year to give presents down at the Villa Lilian, where I had partaken of so many meals, so I bought for Mamma: a jar, or tea-caddy, of Dresden porcelain, with a silver-gilt screw top, filled with tea, and for Lilian: a small, ancient looking-glass, or hand mirror, with solid silver frame and handle, of the Louis XV epoch.

I went in answer to the invitation, carrying with me the presents, which comprised both Christmas and New Year's obligations.

I was affectionately greeted by Mamma, and Lilian soon appeared, called down by her parent to receive her present.

She was very pleased to see me, I was sure of it, as I watched her narrowly. She had taken a little trouble with her toilette, and her face was thickly powdered, while she had reddened her lips. This was new to me.

She looked older and bolder, but as I greeted her, she seemed very confused and turned red and white by turns. Her hands trembled a little. She did not speak very plainly, being all of a heap, and in her excitement, she said:

“What a long time it is since we have seen you! You never honour us with your presence now.”

“I come when I am invited! Here is a little friend I have brought you.”

“I want no little friends!”

“But this is a friend who will always tell you the truth, after a few moments reflection. As I know you love truth, and detest lies-here is a mirror for you! And I wish you a happy new year!”

She reciprocated my wishes, and was delighted with my gift. But she said very little, and the more gay and lively I was, the duller she became.

I went for a walk with the father. When I returned, she fetched me, pretexting that she wanted me to come and help her to get linen out for the dinner-table from Mamma's cupboard in the best bedroom, and we were alone.

I was indifferent. I kept a watch on myself and found I did not have the same desire that I formerly felt whenever I was near her, breathing the same atmosphere.

Seeing me so nonchalant, she began to show a little temper, and in return to some cool remark of mine, made use of a very coarse exclamation, amounting to: “I don't care a damn!”

I replied that I had nothing to say in answer to such talk, and to annoy me, and probably excite my jealousy, she told me that she had a customer who was going to give her a ring.

“A customer, eh?” I replied. “Male or female?”