Jacky S - Suburban Souls, Book I

“Really now? You have debts? Dear me!” she exclaimed, with surprise. “How unlucky we both are! And I am not at all well. Papa has made me some quinine wine, as I have been ordered it.”

I asked her how he did it. She informed me that he put sulfate of quinine in sherry. I ventured to disagree with this formula, and told her that I thought the bark properly macerated in old Malaga would be better and she asked me to make some for her. I promised I would. She thanked me, and we talked about books. She alluded to Flossie which I had lent her in the summer, and believed it was incredible that a girl of fifteen, such as Flossie was, should have experienced pleasure at her age, in using her maiden mouth to quench men's lusts. And an English girl too! That was quite impossible.

I did not dispute, although I knew from experience that directly the crisis of puberty is past, a girl is ready for anything, if of warm temperament.

I asked her if Raoul was much cut up about breaking off his engagement. She answered in the negative and told me that he had written to her, and had finished up his letter by saying “I kiss your sweet lips!”

“I sent it to Papa to let him see what Raoul had written to me,” Lilian went on to say, “and told him not to let Mamma know. And of course, the first thing he did, was to translate this compliment to her and we have both got into an awful row. Papa is vexed with Raoul, and Ma is in a temper with me.”

Now I could see more than ever why Papa was jealous of his stepson. Always shadowy signs of incest with Lilian; and half-truths!

I verified the story of the purse with a fiver in it, given by Papa. I had greatly changed my estimate of Lilian's veracity. I now did not believe one single word she might say.

I pressed her to come to me in Paris, She swore she could not get out. Granny had orders to telegraph to Nice, if she absented herself without a plausible excuse! This was an awful lie. She did not wish to get into bed with me. Had she wanted me, she would have arranged to meet me somewhere or somehow. Or more likely she was expecting me to offer her money. I did not push the point. What was the use? I had no money to spare, and if I had I do not think I should have given it. Any fool can buy women.

Without me asking her, she told me that it was not possible to get me into the house at night, as Granny and she slept in two rooms, with the doors open, so as to let the heat of the stove into both, and she would try and arrange something else for me, if she could. “But there is the dining-room,” I asked. “The stove is perpetually alight in it?”

By this time we had reached the house and stood beneath a gas-lamp in front of the gate. Lilian put on an air of innocent candor, and said slowly, like a child repeating something learnt by heart:

“What can we do in a dining-room?”

“Nothing,” I answered, roughly.

My face must have betrayed me. In my disgust, I forgot myself, and lost all control over my features. My mask dropped off. She kissed me warmly.

“You are all topsy-turvy. What is the matter with you?”

I did not answer.

“Well, good night,” said Lilian.

“Good night, and adieu!” I angrily replied, turning on my heel and striding off to the station.

I was very vexed at the moment. But it soon wore off, as I could see through her so well. She was very coquettish and wicked, but shallow and superficial. Her great trick was to “work up” her man by all kinds of artifices and carefully watch the effect produced on him. If she found she had gone too far, she would come back with a kiss and a caress, until the next maneuver, and so on ad libitum, as long as the amorous male would stand it. Is this the way cunning courtesans wheedle money out of men? Do their votaries offer gold to induce the intriguing female to put an end to their torment? I suppose so. It simply disgusted me. I had no experience with wicked women. And I found out why. I had never stopped long enough with a thoroughly bad, scheming woman. When such a one would start her tricks, I saw through her, and was off and away. Why did I have so much patience with my black magpie, Lilian? I cannot tell. I was never her dupe long, if ever I was at all. I suppose I had felt a great lust for her ever since four years ago, and this would take a little while to get out of the system. But I was gradually sickening. She was always begging. I must have been mad up to then. I wanted to be loved for myself alone at the age of forty-seven. Perhaps I was like a woman and my change of life was acting on my brain? I had only been the half-lover of a quarter-virgin, so there was nothing much to regret. After all, it was better that she should have treated me badly for the last two or three months. A few words of tenderness, one leap of her heart, if she possessed one, towards mine, and I should have continued to live in the belief of her love for me.

You have nothing to complain of, Jacky, I soliloquised, you have had a year's amusement with this trifling intrigue. Twelve months illusion: is not that enormous in the ordinary sadness of life?

And so saying, I put out my lamp and settled to sleep.

LILIAN TO JACKY.

(No date or place.) Received January 12, 1899.

Dear naughty darling,

Here is what I wish to propose to you: if next Sunday you have nothing better to do, you can come here directly after lunch, under the pretext of asking me for one of the little dogs and you can choose it. We can then go and have a nice walk, both of us, or stay at home, as you choose, and you shall stop and have tea with your,

LILIAN.

JACKY TO LILIAN

Paris. January 12, 1899.

Little Lilian,

Your proposal is adorable, to pass a whole afternoon with you would be true happiness for me. And then I feel that I possess your thoughts and I see that you try to please me. I am very grateful.

Unfortunately, we do not live like characters in a novel and have to go through life in quite another way. We must show that we possess common sense and a practical spirit.

What would your parents say when they heard that I visited their house while they were absent and that I had passed several hours with you?

Reflect a little, and you will understand, I am sure, without wanting me to explain myself more fully.

If you desire more ample explanations on this subject, I am quite at your disposal, without any hidden thoughts, quite frankly, and in platonic fashion. To prove my good faith, I will take the nine o'clock train any evening you may point out, Friday, Saturday, or following days, no matter how the weather is, and I will only stop with you the necessary time to demonstrate to you the impossibility of your amiable project.

To sum up: visiting Mademoiselle alone with her Grandmother, in the absence of her parents, would be rude and incorrect, calculated to make them uneasy, and sufficing to close their house against me forever.

Don't be wicked, jealous, nor in a temper.

Yours always, even in spite of yourself,

JACKY.

LILIAN TO JACKY.

(No date or place.) Received January 13, 1899.

Having been brought up like an English girl, I am consequently more practical than romantic, and if I proposed to you to come here Sunday, under the pretext that I gave you, it is only after having carefully reflected on the consequences, and knowing all the ideas that my parents might form on that head. I was absolutely convinced of the solidity of my proposal.

You will not profit by my good intentions in your favor? Very well then-do as you like.

You cannot, however, prevent me from remarking that you are never free for me on a Sunday. You probably have to occupy yourself with your bicycle, as on Sunday last.

I am not wicked, nor jealous, nor out of temper. I only note simple facts.