The principal girl
By J. C. Snaith
()
About this ebook
J. C. Snaith
J. C. Snaith, an eminent figure in early 20th-century literature, is a name that may not immediately ring a bell for many modern readers, but his works and life story offer a fascinating glimpse into the literary and cultural currents of his time. Born James Cotterell Snaith on August 27, 1876, in Sheffield, England, Snaith's upbringing in an industrial city during the Victorian era significantly influenced his writing. His father was a clergyman, a background that often enriched Snaith's narratives with moral and philosophical undertones. J. C. Snaith's journey into literature was not straightforward. He initially pursued a career in cricket, playing for Derbyshire, which adds an intriguing layer to his persona. This athletic detour reflects a multifaceted individual whose experiences extended beyond the literary world. Eventually, his passion for storytelling led him to abandon sports and focus entirely on writing, a decision that would see him produce a diverse body of work, including novels, plays, and short stories. Snaith's most notable work, "The Wayfarers," published in 1902, is a compelling narrative that delves into themes of adventure, existential quest, and the human condition. Set against the backdrop of the English countryside and urban life, the novel resonates with readers even today, as it explores the timeless quest for meaning and identity. The characters in "The Wayfarers" grapple with issues that are strikingly relevant to contemporary audiences, such as the search for self-fulfillment, the impact of societal expectations, and the clash between tradition and modernity. During Snaith's lifetime, the world was undergoing significant changes. The early 20th century was marked by technological advancements, social upheavals, and the aftermath of the Industrial Revolution. These elements subtly permeated his works, offering readers a reflection of the tensions and transformations of the era. Snaith's ability to weave these broader historical and cultural trends into his narratives makes his work not only a product of its time but also a timeless commentary on the human experience. One of the most intriguing aspects of Snaith's career is his influence on contemporary writers and his engagement with revolutionary ideas. He was known to mingle with literary circles that included luminaries such as H. G. Wells and George Bernard Shaw. These interactions undoubtedly enriched his perspectives and infused his writings with a progressive outlook, particularly in his portrayals of social class and individual agency. Snaith's works often challenged the status quo, advocating for a more introspective and humanitarian approach to life's challenges. In a modern context, J. C. Snaith's life and works offer valuable insights into the perennial struggles and aspirations that define human existence. His exploration of themes such as personal growth, societal pressures, and the search for authenticity continues to resonate with readers today. As we navigate an era of rapid technological change and social complexity, Snaith's reflections on the interplay between individual desires and collective norms remain profoundly relevant. Moreover, Snaith's ability to intertwine his literary endeavors with his diverse life experiences—ranging from sports to philosophical inquiry—makes him a relatable and inspiring figure for modern audiences. His story serves as a reminder that the path to creative fulfillment is often nonlinear and enriched by a myriad of experiences. In conclusion, J. C. Snaith's legacy as an author and thinker offers a rich tapestry of historical and cultural insights that continue to captivate modern readers. His nuanced exploration of universal themes, set against the backdrop of a rapidly changing world, ensures that his works remain a significant and relatable part of the literary canon.
Read more from J. C. Snaith
The Sailor Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsMrs. Fitz Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Undefeated Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsWilliam Jordan, Junior Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Willow The King, The Story Of A Cricket Match Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsMrs. Fitz Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsAnne Feversham Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Wayfarers Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsFortune Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Sailor Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsHenry Northcote Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe time spirit: A romantic tale Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Council of Seven Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Principal Girl Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Undefeated Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsAnne Feversham Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Council of Seven Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Wayfarers Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
Related to The principal girl
Related ebooks
The Principal Girl Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsExtraordinary Popular Delusions Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Fortune's Fool Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Queen's Reign and Its Commemoration: A literary and pictorial review of the period; the story of the Victorian transformation Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Lost King Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsA Lodge in the Wilderness Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Hidden Children Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsEconomic Bubbles in History and Fiction Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsLord Chatham, His Early Life and Connections Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Queen's Reign and Its Commemoration Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsJohn Pym (Barnes & Noble Digital Library) Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsExtraordinary Popular Delusions and the Madness of Crowds Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsCedar Creek: From the Shanty to the Settlement. A Tale of Canadian Life Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsColonel Thomas Blood, Crown-stealer, 1618-1680 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsExtraordinary Popular Delusions and the Madness of Crowds: Vol.1-3 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Love-Story of Aliette Brunton Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsPitt (Barnes & Noble Digital Library) Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsMr Blettsworthy on Rampole Island Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Cowper (Barnes & Noble Digital Library): English Men of Letters Series Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Minion Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Memoirs of Extraordinary Popular Delusions Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Cowper Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsWilliam Lilly's History of His Life and Times, from the Year 1602 to 1681 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsHope Leslie: Early Times in the Massachusetts (Historical Romance Novel) Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Duke’s Children Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsAfloat and Ashore: A Sea Tale Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Through stained glass: A Novel Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsHope Leslie (Historical Novel) Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsDalziels' Illustrated Goldsmith Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsHope Leslie: Early Times in the Massachusetts (Historical Novel) Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
General Fiction For You
The Priory of the Orange Tree Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Fellowship Of The Ring: Being the First Part of The Lord of the Rings Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The City of Dreaming Books Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Silmarillion Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Covenant of Water (Oprah's Book Club) Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5A Man Called Ove: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Cloud Cuckoo Land: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Life of Pi: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Alchemist Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Unhoneymooners Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Everything's Fine Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5It Ends with Us: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Paris Apartment: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Ocean at the End of the Lane: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Dante's Divine Comedy: Inferno Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Alchemist: A Graphic Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The King James Version of the Bible Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Rebecca Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Babel: Or the Necessity of Violence: An Arcane History of the Oxford Translators' Revolution Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Mythos Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Labyrinth of Dreaming Books: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Iliad of Homer Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Beartown: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Meditations: Complete and Unabridged Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Recital of the Dark Verses Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Beyond Good and Evil Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5We Have Always Lived in the Castle Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Nettle & Bone Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Shantaram: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5
Related categories
Reviews for The principal girl
0 ratings0 reviews
Book preview
The principal girl - J. C. Snaith
J. C. Snaith
The principal girl
Published by Good Press, 2022
EAN 4064066429096
Table of Contents
CHAPTER I A GREAT PROCONSUL; AND OTHER PHENOMENA
CHAPTER II TOUCHES UPON A MATTER OF GRAVE PUBLIC IMPORTANCE
CHAPTER III IS DOMESTIC IN THE MAIN, BUT WE HOPE NOT UNWORTHY OF A GREAT CONSTITUTIONAL STATESMAN
CHAPTER IV IN WHICH THE GENTLE READER HAS THE HONOR OF AN INTRODUCTION TO THE SEVENTH UNMARRIED DAUGHTER OF NOT QUITE A HUNDRED EARLS
CHAPTER V IN WHICH THE GENTLE READER IS TAKEN TO THE PANTOMIME IN THE COMPANY OF MARGE AND TIMOTHY AND ALICE CLARA AND DICK AND THE BABE AND HELEN AND LUCY NANNA, AND WE HOPE YOU’LL ENJOY IT AS MUCH AS THEY DID
CHAPTER VI IN WHICH WE DINE OUT IN GROSVENOR SQUARE
CHAPTER VII IN WHICH WE DRINK TEA AGAIN AT THE CARLTON
CHAPTER VIII IN WHICH WE MAKE THE ACQUAINTANCE OF THE GODDAUGHTER OF EDWARD BEAN
CHAPTER IX A LITTLE LUNCH AT DIEUDONNÉ’S
CHAPTER X AFFAIRS OF STATE
CHAPTER XI LICENTIOUS BEHAVIOR OF THE GREEN CHARTREUSE
CHAPTER XII THE PROCONSULAR TOUCH
CHAPTER XIII JANE’S AFTERNOON OUT
CHAPTER XIV IN WHICH MARY QUALIFIES FOR THE RÔLE OF THE BAD GIRL OF THE FAMILY
CHAPTER XV IN WHICH WE SIT AT THE FEET OF GAMALIEL
CHAPTER XVI IN WHICH THE MOUNTAIN COMES TO MAHOMET
CHAPTER XVII IN WHICH WE ARE TAKEN TO VIEW A LITTLE FLAT IN KNIGHTSBRIDGE
CHAPTER XVIII IN WHICH THE CONSEQUENCES ARE DAMNED WITH NO UNCERTAINTY
CHAPTER XIX A GREAT OCCASION
CHAPTER XX LOVE’S YOUNG DREAM
CHAPTER XXI ADVENTURES RARE AND STRANGE
CHAPTER XXII IN WHICH PHILIP RENEWS HIS YOUTH
CHAPTER XXIII IN WHICH GRANDMAMMA RENEWS HERS
CHAPTER XXIV IS OF A POLITICAL NATURE
CHAPTER XXV IS VICTORIAN IN THE BEST SENSE
CHAPTER XXVI A CONSTITUTIONAL CRISIS
CHAPTER XXVII ANOTHER TRIUMPH FOR FREE TRADE
CHAPTER XXVIII THE END OF THE TALE
CHAPTER I
A GREAT PROCONSUL; AND OTHER PHENOMENA
Table of Contents
The
great Proconsul stood on one of Messrs. Maple’s best hearthrugs in Grosvenor Square. A typical payer of the super-tax, a pink and prosperous gentleman in a morning coat and striped trousers, his appearance had long commanded the admiration of his country.
He had not ruled the teeming millions of the Ganges, although the strength of his digestion and his absence of imagination would at any time have enabled him to do so. But for a period of nine weeks he had been the Resident of Barataria North-West; and partly for that reason and partly for a reason even more cogent, he had the distinction of being the last peer created by Mr. Vandeleur’s last government.
The world is familiar with Sir William Richmond’s fine portrait of Walter Augustus, first Baron Shelmerdine of Potterhanworth now, on loan at the National Portrait Gallery. In this the national asset appears as he encountered his Sovereign in knee breeches, silk stockings, shoe buckles and other regalia.
Competent judges consider it an excellent likeness, and of course quite unexceptionable as a work of art. It is the portrait of a happily endowed Englishman in his manly prime, to which the nation at large is able to refer between the hours of ten and four, Fridays excepted.
Eton, Balliol, diplomacy, private means, together with various places of emolument under the Crown, had each a share in raising Shelmerdine of Potterhanworth to his elevation. A first baron certainly, but not a mushroom growth. The honors of a grateful nation had come to him mainly because he had not been able to avoid them. From early youth he had been ranged with those who always do the right thing at the right time in the right way. He had always hit the bull’s-eye so exactly in the centre that public regard had had to strive to keep pace with his progress.
Up till the age of one-and-thirty, Shelmerdine—not then of Potterhanworth—had like humbler mortals just a sporting chance of getting off the target. But at the age of thirty-one he married. By that judicious action he forfeited any little chance he may have had of dying an obscure, private individual.
Sociologists differ as to what is the most portentous phenomenon of the age in which we dwell, but there is a body of the well-informed which awards the palm unhesitatingly to that amiable institution, the Suffolk Colthurst.
The world is under great obligations to this interesting representative of the higher mammalia. The upper reaches of Theology are whitened with the bones of the Suffolk Colthurst. It makes an almost ideal Under-Secretary, it is always so smooth-spoken and well-brushed; it makes a most excellent Judge; there is no place of emolument it is not fitted to grace; and in the unlikely event of a doubt invading your mind as to whether the particular schoolmaster will be inducted to the vacant see of Wincanton, you have only to look up which branch it was of the Suffolk Colthursts into which he married, and at what period of his life he married her.
What would be the Established Order without the Colthurst of Suffolk? What would be the Navy and Army, Law and Medicine, Parliament itself, Art—and yes, gentlemen!—Letters, without the Colthurst of Suffolk?
It is an error, however, to suppose that this pleasant phenomenon confines itself to one little corner of the globe. The Colthurst is indigenous to Suffolk, but for generations there has been quite a colony settled in Kent. There is also the world-famous Scotch variety, and of late traces of the Suffolk Colthurst have been found in America. The Transatlantic mind, never slow at diagnosis, and with its trick of masterful and telling speech, has already ventured to define its creed. In America the creed of the Suffolk Colthurst has been defined as the Art of Getting There with Both Feet.
Please do not assume that there is anything ignoble about the Colthurst of Suffolk. Quite the contrary. It has been laid down as a general principle that the Suffolk Colthurst never makes money but always marries it. That is not to say, of course, that a Suffolk Colthurst has never been known to make money, because such a statement, however pleasant, would be in excess of the truth. But the Suffolk Colthurst, pur sang, sets less store by the making of money than by the spending of money in the way that shows it has always had money to spend.
As a matter of fact it always has had money to spend. As soon as banking, brewing, land-jobbing, share-broking, and other polite arts began to flourish in Suffolk, the Colthurst began to marry and to give in marriage. And to this day if you enter a small private bank in a quiet cathedral city, and you take the trouble to make inquiries, you are quite likely to learn that the local Suffolk Colthurst has the chief proprietary interest in the concern. The family has always been partial to banking. It is such an eminently sensible practice to lend money at double the rate at which you borrow it; and it has the additional advantage that you can’t call it Trade.
Our immediate business, however, is with the blameless gentleman who at the age of one-and-thirty was accepted in marriage by a charming representative of the genus, and at the age of nine-and-fifty was made a peer by Mr. Vandeleur’s government, immediately antecedent to its total and permanent eclipse.
To return, then, to Shelmerdine of Potterhanworth. For nearly an hour had he occupied the tasteful hearthrug provided by Messrs. Maple. A frown chequered his serene front and several times he had recourse to the Leading Morning Journal which lay open on his writing-table at page four.
At the top of the third column was a communication dated from the Helicon Club, S. W. It was signed by himself and had been crowned with the glory of the largest type you could have without having to pay for it. Immediately below, in type equally glorious, were communications veiled in the discreet anonymity of A Lover of Animals
and Verax.
Discreet anonymity is disagreeable as a rule. The fact was the great Proconsul was in the act of rendering a signal service to the Public; and in consequence the Public did not thank him for his interference. To be sure, it was the first time in his life that he had been guilty of such an indiscretion. This was his first single-handed attempt to render a service to society at large; and, as was only to be expected, society at large was not making itself very pleasant about it.
There could be no doubt that at this moment the great Proconsul was the most unpopular man in London. Old ladies in ermine tippets scowled at him as he passed along Park Lane; and a hostess of mark, famous for her wealth and her humanity, had already crossed him out of her dinner list.
CHAPTER II
TOUCHES UPON A MATTER OF GRAVE PUBLIC
IMPORTANCE
Table of Contents
Of
what crime, do you suppose, has S. of P. been guilty? It was merely that in a public print he had ventured to ask why the payment of the nominal sum of seven and sixpence per annum conferred upon the dogs of London certain privileges in respect of its pavements which society at large, for some little time past, has ceased to claim.
The resources of civilization were ranged already against Shelmerdine of Potterhanworth. Nice-minded women in point lace refused to meet the self-constituted champion of public amenity; the black-velveted mistresses of the Flossies and the Fidos thought the state of his mind must be unpleasant; he was an object of contumely where all that was fair and of good report held sway in the life of the metropolis.
It was a pretty quarrel, and both sides were sustaining it with spirit. The Pro-Darlings, with Verax and a Lover of Animals at their head, had rejoined with mannerly vituperation to the polished sarcasm of the Anti-Darlings. What is your remedy? had inquired the Friends of Fido with a rather obvious sneer. Banish the dumb creation from the pavements of great cities, had replied Inspired Commonsense.
And for our own poor part, Commissioners of the Office of Works, we think that reply is worth a statue.
Verax was making merry though at the expense of a public ornament, and the occupant of Messrs. Maple’s best hearthrug, who remembered Verax perfectly well as a grubby infant at his private school, had already formed the pious resolve of putting the fear of God into Verax.
S. of P., having pondered long, sat down at his writing-table; dipped his quill with a certain inherent natural grandeur, and started out on his crushing reply:—Sir, I have read with amazement the diatribe against my humble and unworthy self which appears under the signature of Verax, to which you have extended the generous hospitality of your columns.
At this point S. of P. bit his quill with such violence that a large blot was shaken from the end of it upon the monogram which decorated the communication.
The problem as I envisage it
—S. of P. took a small gold pencil out of his waistcoat pocket and made a note on his blotting pad. The problem as I envisage it
—but the problem that he did envisage was the Suffolk Colthurst, who at that moment entered the room.
The Suffolk Colthurst was large and blonde—so large and so blonde that to a profane mind she rather conveyed the suggestion of a particularly well-grown cauliflower.
"Wally, please, don’t let me spoil your morning. Don’t let me interrupt you, please."
The voice of the Suffolk Colthurst was really quite agreeable, although a little light in the upper register. You might even call it flutelike if you cared to indulge in metaphor.
Not at all, Agatha,
said S. of P. with excellent chest resonance. I am merely envisaging the problem of the—ah—
"Don’t, Wally." The voice of the Suffolk Colthurst was perhaps a shade less flutelike if history really calls for these nuances. You are making yourself ridiculous. Please drop the subject.
No, Agatha.
The sun setting over Africa might be compared to the brow of the great Proconsul. "Man in The Thunderer most impertinent. Signs himself Verax. Suspect it’s that fellow—"
Wally.
The Suffolk Colthurst roared here a little less gently than usual. I will not uphold you! Everybody thinks it is most injudicious.
Everybody, Agatha?
Paul and Millicent consider—
Public health, Agatha, public dec—
Wally, once for all, I absolutely refuse to discuss the subject. I will not have you make yourself ridiculous.
The Suffolk Colthurst, with an approximation to natural majesty, put on a pair of gold-rimmed eyeglasses which were suspended round her neck by a cord, and took the Leading Morning Journal off the First Baron’s table.
Impertinent, certainly. Sarcasm, I suppose.
Suspect it’s that fellow Huffham, because I declined to propose him under Rule Two.
Certainly you do appear to have laid yourself open, but the letter is most ill-natured.
As though I should be likely to propose him. Known the man all my life.
The Suffolk Colthurst gathered her majestic inches for the ultimatum.
Wally, you must listen to me. This matter has already gone too far. Let it drop. It is the first time I have known you go out of your way to make yourself ridiculous.
Public health, Agatha, public decency.
Leave it to the County Council.
They are not competent to envisage such a problem as this. And I am determined, in the face of that letter—
Paul says that no man can afford to make himself a public laughing-stock.
Paul’s a coward.
Paul says they are certain to make you an Apostle.
Eh?
If you don’t make a fool of yourself.
Paul said that! Why, pray, should they make me an Apostle?
Because there’s nobody else; and people will say the race has already passed its zenith if the vacancy is not filled up at once.
I will say this for Paul—he is well-informed as a rule.
Wait, Wally, until you are an Apostle.
Very well then, with the greatest possible reluctance I yield the point for the present. Verax shall wait until—Tell me, Agatha, what have you to say to me?
The good, the noble—forgive our fervor, O ye Liberal organs of opinion, even if your bosoms be not thrilled by this whole-souled devotion to the public weal—the good and noble Shelmerdine of Potterhanworth flung the offending print upon Messrs. Maple’s expensive carpet in a sudden uncontrollable access of private pique.
Agatha.
The accents of the great Proconsul were choked with emotion. Tell me, Agatha, what you have to say to me?
Wally,
said the Suffolk Colthurst, what I have to say to you is this.
CHAPTER III
IS DOMESTIC IN THE MAIN, BUT WE HOPE
NOT UNWORTHY OF A GREAT CONSTITUTIONAL
STATESMAN
Table of Contents
When
you are up against a serious anticlimax it is a golden rule to begin a fresh chapter.
The Suffolk Colthurst paused, and sat with a further access of natural majesty upon a chair Louis Quinze, supplied, like the hearthrug, by Tottenham Court Road.
Wally, Philip has declined to come to the Queen’s Hall this afternoon to hear Busoni.
Doing his best even in this dangerous anticlimax, S. of P. retrieved the Leading Morning Journal from the carpet, straightened out its crumpled folds with patient humility, laid it on the table, sat down in his own chair—Tottenham Court Road of the best period—put up his eyeglass—by Cary of Pall Mall, maker to the Admiralty—and, in the voice of one pronouncing a benediction, said, Well, Agatha?
Actually declined. Tells me he’s engaged to a pantomime at Drury Lane.
Matter of taste, I suppose.
Taste, Wally! Dear Adela is coming, and I have taken such trouble to arrange this.
The Proconsul showed a little perturbation.
No accounting for taste, I presume. Why a man of his age, rising twenty-eight, should prefer—
Wally, it is very wrong, and you must speak to him. It is not kind to dear Adela. Please ring the bell.
The Proconsul rang the bell, and a young and very good-looking footman attended the summons.
Joseph,
said his mistress, if Mr. Philip has not gone yet, tell him, please, that his father would like to see him.
After a lapse of about five minutes, a young man sauntered into the library. He was a somewhat somber-looking young man in a chocolate-colored suiting.
Good morning, Philip,
said the First Baron.
Mornin’, father,
said the heir to the barony.
Philip,
said the First Baron, your mother tells me that you have declined to accompany her and Adela Rocklaw to the Albert Hall this afternoon to hear Paderewski.
The heir to the barony knitted the intellectual forehead that was his by inheritance.
Not declined, you know, exactly. It’s a bit of a mix. I thought the concert was next Saturday.
Mr. Philip was a slow and rather heavy young man, but his air was quite sweet and humble, and not without a sort of tacit deference for both parents. Fact is, I was keepin’ next Saturday.
Why not go this afternoon as you have got wrong in the date? Your mother has been at so much trouble, and I am sure Adela Rocklaw will be disappointed.
Unfortunately I’ve fixed up this other thing.
Engaged to a music hall, I understand.
Pantomime at Drury Lane,
said Philip the sombre.
Quite so.
The Proconsul, like other great men, was slightly impatient of meticulous detail in affairs outside his orbit. Hardly right, is it, to disappoint Adela Rocklaw, especially after your mother
—Mother, still mounted on the Louis Quinze, sat with eyelids lowered but very level—has taken so much trouble? At least I, at your age, should not have thought so.
Mr. Philip pondered a little.
A bit awkward perhaps. I say, Mater, don’t you think you could fix up another day?
The gaze of Mother grew a little less abstract at this invocation.
Impossible, Phil-ipp
—the Rubens-Minerva countenance, whose ample chin was folded trebly in rolls of adipose tissue was a credit to the Governing Classes—Dear Adela goes to High Cliff on Wednesday for the shooting.
Well, I’m sorry,
said Mr. Philip quite nicely and politely, that I shall have to go to Drury Lane this afternoon.
"Have to go, Phil-ipp! Still ampler grew the Governing Classes.
It is really impossible in the circumstances."
What circumstances, Mater?
Dear Adela.
She won’t mind, if you explain. It’s like this, you see. Teddy Clapham has taken a box for his kids, and I promised ’em I’d be there—and you can’t go back on your word with kids, can you?
Why not, Phil-ipp?
inquired the Governing Classes.
Sort of gives ’em wrong views about things, you know.
How absurd,
said Mother. Much too sentimental about children nowadays. Telephone to Mr. Clapham and explain the circumstances. I am sure he will understand that as dear Adela is going to High Cliff on Wednesday—
A cloud gathered on the brow of Philip.
May be wrong, you know, Mater, but I really can’t go back on my word with kids. I promised ’em, you know, and that little Marge is a nailer, and she is only five.
The statement, in spite of its