GEORGE SHAW - The Complete Works

Jasper, without the slightest appearance of having heard this speech, strolled casually out of the room. The Countess, baffled, turned to her sympathetic guest.

“I am sure that you, George, must feel that it is absolutely necessary for us to keep this matter to ourselves.”

The Rev. George said, gravely, “I do not indeed see what blessing can rest on our interference in such an inexpressibly shocking business. It is for Marmaduke to wrestle with his own conscience.”

“Quite so,” said the Countess, shrugging her shoulders as if to invite her absent son’s attention to this confirmation of her judgment. “Is it not absurd of Jasper to snatch at such an excuse for breaking off the match?”

“I can sympathize with Jasper’s feeling, I trust. It is natural for a candid nature to recoil from duplicity. But all our actions need charitable construction; and, remembering that, we should take heed to prevent our forebearance toward others from wavering. Who knows that the alliance with your pure and lovely daughter may not be the means specially ordained to rescue him from his present condition.”

“I think it very possible,” drawled the Countess, looking at him, nevertheless, with a certain contempt for what she privately considered his priggish, underbred cant. “Besides, such things are recognized, though of course they are not spoken of. No lady could with common decency pretend to know that such connexions are possible, much less assign one of them as a reason for breaking off an engagement.”

“Pardon me,” said the Rev. George; “but can these worldly considerations add anything to the approval of our consciences? I think not. We will keep our own counsel in this matter in the sight of Heaven. Then, whatever the world may think, all will surely come right in the end.”

“Oh, it is sure to come right in the end: these wretched businesses always do. I cannot imagine men having such low tastes — as if there were anything in these women more than in anybody else! Come into the drawingroom, George.”

They went into the drawingroom and found it deserted. The ladies were in the veranda. The Countess took up the paper and composed herself for a nap. George went into the porch, where the girls, having seen the sun go down, were now watching the deepening gloom among the trees that skirted the lawn. Marian proposed that they should walk through the plantation whilst there was still a little light left, and the clergyman readily assented. He rather repented of this when they got into the deep gloom under the trees, and Elinor began to tell stories about adders, wild cats, poachers, and anything else that could possibly make a nervous man uncomfortable under such circumstances. He was quite relieved when they saw the spark of a cigaret ahead of them and heard the voices of Jasper and Conolly coming toward them through the darkness.

“Oh, I believe I have had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Conolly,” said the

Rev. George, formally, when they met. “I am glad to see you.”

“Thank you,” said Conolly. “If you ladies have thin shoes on as usual, we had better come out of this.”

“As we ladies happen to have our boots on,” said Marian, “we shall stay as long as we like.”

Nevertheless, they soon turned homeward, and as the path was narrow, they walked in pairs. The clergyman, with Constance, led the way. Lord Jasper followed with Elinor. Conolly and Marian came last.

“Does that young man — Mr. Conolly — live at the Hall?” was the Rev.

George’s first remark to Constance.

“No. He has rooms in Rose Cottage, that little place on Quilter’s farm.”

“Ha! Then he is very well off here.”

“A great deal too well off. Jasper allows him to speak to him as though he were an equal. However, I suppose Jasper knows his own business best.”

“I have observed that he is rather disposed to presume upon any encouragement he receives. It is a bad sign in a young man, and one, I fear, that will greatly interfere with his prospects.”

“He is an American, and I suppose thinks it a fine thing to be republican. But it is Jasper’s fault. He spoils him. He once wanted to have him in the drawingroom in the evenings to play accompaniments; but mamma positively refused to allow it. Jasper is excessively obstinate, and though he did not make a fuss, he got quite a habit of going over to Rose Cottage and spending his evenings there singing and playing. Everybody about the place used to notice it. Mamma was greatly disgusted.”

“Do you find him unpleasant — personally, I mean?”

“I! Oh dear, no! I should never dream of speaking to him. His presence is unpleasant, because he exercises a bad influence on Jasper; so I wish, on that account alone, that he would go.”

“I trust Marian is careful to limit her intercourse with him as much as possible.”

“Well, Marian learns electricity from him; and of course that makes a difference. I do not care about such things; and I never go into the laboratory when he is there; so I do not know whether Marian lets him be familiar with her or not. She is rather easygoing; and he is insufferably conceited. However, if she wants to learn electricity, I suppose she must put up with him. He is no worse, after all, than the rest of the people one has to learn things from. They are all impossible.”

“It is a strange fancy of the girls, to study science.”

“I am sure I dont know why they do it. It is great nonsense for Jasper to do it, either. He will never keep up his position properly until he shuts up that stupid workshop. He ought to hunt and shoot and entertain a great deal more than he does. It is very hard on us, for we are altogether in Jasper’s hands for such matters. I think he is very foolish.”

“Not foolish. Dont say that. Excuse my giving you a little lecture; but it is not right to speak, even without thought, of your brother as a fool. No doubt he is a little injudicious; but all men are not called to the same pursuits.”

“If people have a certain position, they ought to make up their minds to the duties of their position, whether they are called to them or not.”

The Rev. George, missing the deference with which ladies not related to him usually received his admonitions, changed the subject.

Meanwhile, Conolly and Marian, walking more slowly than the rest, had fallen far behind. They had been silent at first. She seemed to be in trouble. At last, after some wistful glances at him, she said:

“Have you resolved to go to London tomorrow; or will you wait until

Friday?”

“Tomorrow, Miss Lind. Can I do anything for you in town?”

Marian hesitated painfully.

“Do not mind giving me plenty of bother,” he said. “I am so accustomed to superintend the transit of machines as cumbersome as trunks and as fragile as bonnet boxes, that the care of a houseful of ordinary luggage would be a mere amusement for me.”

“Thank you; but it is not that. I was only thinking — Are you likely to see my cousin, Mr. Marmaduke Lind, whilst you are in London?”

“N — no. Unless I call upon him, which I have no excuse for doing.”

“Oh! I thought you knew him.”

“I met him at that concert.”

“But I thought you were in the habit of going about with him. At least, I understood him one day to say that you had been to the theatre together.”

“So we were; but only once. We went there after the concert, and I have never seen him since.”

“Oh, indeed! I quite mistook.”

“If you have any particular reason for wishing me to see him, I will.

It will be all right if I have a message from you. Shall I call on him?

It will be no trouble to me.”

“No, oh no. I wanted — it was something that could only be told to him indirectly by an intimate friend — by some one with influence over him. More a hint than anything else. But it does not matter. At least, it cannot be helped.”