GEORGE SHAW - The Complete Works

On the Tuesday following Mrs. Hoskyn’s reception, Lucian Webber called at his cousin’s house in Regent’s Park, and said, in the course of a conversation with the two ladies there,

“The Colonial Office has had an idea. The king, it appears, is something of an athlete, and is curious to witness what Londoners can do in that way. So a grand assault-at-arms is to be held for him.”

“What is an assault-at-arms?” said Lydia. “I have never been at one; and the name suggests nothing but an affray with bayonets.”

“It is an exhibition of swordsmanship, military drill, gymnastics, and so forth.”

“I will go to that,” said Lydia. “Will you come, Alice?”

“Is it usual for ladies to go to such exhibitions?” said Alice, cautiously.

“On this occasion ladies will go for the sake of seeing the king,” said Lucian. “The Olympian gymnastic society, which has undertaken the direction of the part of the assault that is to show off the prowess of our civilians, expects what they call a flower-show audience.”

“Will you come, Lucian?”

“If I can be spared, yes. If not, I will ask Worthington to go with you. He understands such matters better than I.”

“Then let us have him, by all means,” said Lydia.

“I cannot see why you are so fond of Lord Worthington,” said Alice. “His manners are good; but there is nothing in him. Besides, he is so young. I cannot endure his conversation. He has begun to talk about Goodwood already.”

“He will grow out of his excessive addiction to sport,” said Lucian.

“Indeed,” said Lydia. “And what will he grow into?”

“Possibly into a more reasonable man,” said Lucian, gravely.

“I hope so,” said Lydia; “but I prefer a man who is interested in sport to a gentleman who is interested in nothing.”

“Much might indubitably be said from that point of view. But it is not necessary that Lord Worthington should waste his energy on horse-racing. I presume you do not think political life, for which his position peculiarly fits him, unworthy his attention.”

“Party tactics are both exciting and amusing, no doubt. But are they better than horse-racing? Jockeys and horsebreakers at least know their business; our legislators do not. Is it pleasant to sit on a bench — even though it be the treasury bench — and listen to either absolute nonsense or childish disputes about conclusions that were foregone in the minds of all sensible men a hundred years ago?”

“You do not understand the duties of a government, Lydia. You never approach the subject without confirming my opinion that women are constitutionally incapable of comprehending it.”

“It is natural for you to think so, Lucian. The House of Commons is to you the goal of existence. To me it is only an assemblage of ill-informed gentlemen who have botched every business they have ever undertaken, from the first committee of supply down to the last land act; and who arrogantly assert that I am not good enough to sit with them.”

“Lydia,” said Lucian, annoyed; “you know that I respect women in their own sphere—”

“Then give them another sphere, and perhaps they will earn your respect in that also. I am sorry to say that men, in THEIR sphere, have not won my respect. Enough of that for the present. I have to make some domestic arrangements, which are of more immediate importance than the conversion of a good politician into a bad philosopher. Excuse me for five minutes.”

She left the room. Lucian sat down and gave his attention to Alice, who had still enough of her old nervousness to make her straighten her shoulders and look stately. But he did not object to this; a little stiffness of manner gratified his taste.

“I hope,” he said, “that my cousin has not succeeded in inducing you to adopt her peculiar views.”

“No,” said Alice. “Of course her case is quite exceptional — she is so wonderfully accomplished. In general, I do not think women should have views. There are certain convictions which every lady holds: for instance, we know that Roman Catholicism is wrong. But that can hardly be called a view; indeed it would be wicked to call it so, as it is one of the highest truths. What I mean is that women should not be political agitators.”

“I understand, and quite agree with you. Lydia is, as you say, an exceptional case. She has lived much abroad; and her father was a very singular man. Even the clearest heads, when removed from the direct influence of English life and thought, contract extraordinary prejudices. Her father at one time actually attempted to leave a large farm to the government in trust for the people; but fortunately he found that it was impossible; no such demise was known to the English law or practicable by it. He subsequently admitted the folly of this by securing Lydia’s rights as his successor as stringently as he could. It is almost a pity that such strength of mind and extent of knowledge should be fortified by the dangerous independence which great wealth confers. Advantages like these bring with them certain duties to the class that has produced them — duties to which Lydia is not merely indifferent, but absolutely hostile.”

“I never meddle with her ideas on — on these subjects. I am too ignorant to understand them. But Miss Carew’s generosity to me has been unparalleled. And she does not seem to know that she is generous. I owe more to her than I ever can repay. At least,” Alice added, to herself, “I am not ungrateful.”

Miss Carew now reappeared, dressed in a long, gray coat and plain beaver hat, and carrying a roll of writing materials.

“I am going to the British Museum to read,” said she.

“To walk! — alone!” said Lucian, looking at her costume.

“Yes. Prevent me from walking, and you deprive me of my health. Prevent me from going alone where I please and when I please, and you deprive me of my liberty — tear up Magna Charta, in effect. But I do not insist upon being alone in this instance. If you can return to your office by way of Regent’s Park and Gower Street without losing too much time, I shall be glad of your company.”

Lucian decorously suppressed his eagerness to comply by looking at his watch and pretending to consider his engagements. In conclusion, he said that he should be happy to accompany her.

It was a fine summer afternoon, and there were many people in the park. Lucian was soon incommoded by the attention his cousin attracted. In spite of the black beaver, her hair shone like fire in the sun. Women stared at her with unsympathetic curiosity, and turned as they passed to examine her attire. Men resorted to various subterfuges to get a satisfactory look without rudely betraying their intention. A few stupid youths gaped; and a few impudent ones smiled. Lucian would gladly have kicked them all, without distinction. He at last suggested that they should leave the path, and make a short cut across the greensward. As they emerged from the shade of the trees he had a vague impression that the fineness of the weather and the beauty of the park made the occasion romantic, and that the words by which he hoped to make the relation between him and his cousin dearer and closer would be well spoken there. But he immediately began to talk, in spite of himself, about the cost of maintaining the public parks, of the particulars of which he happened to have some official knowledge. Lydia, readily interested by facts of any sort, thought the subject not a bad one for a casual afternoon conversation, and pursued it until they left the turf and got into the Euston Road, where the bustle of traffic silenced them for a while. When they escaped from the din into the respectable quietude of Gower Street, he suddenly said,

“It is one of the evils of great wealth in the hands of a woman, that she can hardly feel sure—” His ideas fled suddenly. He stopped; but he kept his countenance so well that he had the air of having made a finished speech, and being perfectly satisfied with it.