unsocial reading of fiction at home alone； people will meet together
cordially； and sit at the feet of a professed romancer。 I am going
to tell my tales before a London public。 As a child； I had a
considerable power in arresting the attention of other children by
recounting adventures which had never happened； and men and women
are but children enlarged a little。 Look at this。'
She drew from her pocket a folded paper； shook it abroad； and
disclosed a rough draft of an announcement to the effect that Mrs。
Petherwin； Professed Story…teller； would devote an evening to that
ancient form of the romancer's art； at a well…known fashionable hall
in London。 'Now you see；' she continued； 'the meaning of what you
observed going on here。 That you heard was one of three tales I am
preparing； with a view of selecting the best。 As a reserved one； I
have the tale of my own lifeto be played as a last card。 It was a
private rehearsal before my brothers and sistersnot with any view
of obtaining their criticism； but that I might become accustomed to
my own voice in the presence of listeners。'
'If I only had had half your enterprise； what I might have done in
the world！'
'Now did you ever consider what a power De Foe's manner would have
if practised by word of mouth？ Indeed； it is a style which suits
itself infinitely better to telling than to writing； abounding as it
does in colloquialisms that are somewhat out of place on paper in
these days； but have a wonderful power in making a narrative seem
real。 And so； in short； I am going to talk De Foe on a subject of
my own。 Well？'
The last word had been given tenderly； with a long…drawn sweetness；
and was caused by a look that Christopher was bending upon her at
the moment； in which he revealed that he was thinking less of the
subject she was so eagerly and hopefully descanting upon than upon
her aspect in explaining it。 It is a fault of manner particularly
common among men newly imported into the society of bright and
beautiful women； and we will hope that； springing as it does from no
unworthy source； it is as soon forgiven in the general world as it
was here。
'I was only following a thought；' said Christopher：'a thought of
how I used to know you； and then lost sight of you； and then
discovered you famous； and how we are here under these sad autumn
trees； and nobody in sight。'
'I think it must be tea…time；' she said suddenly。 'Tea is a great
meal with us hereyou will join us； will you not？' And Ethelberta
began to make for herself a passage through the boughs。 Another
rustle was heard a little way off； and one of the children appeared。
'Emmeline wants to know； please； if the gentleman that come to see
'ee will stay to tea； because； if so； she's agoing to put in another
spoonful for him and a bit of best green。'
'O Georginahow candid！ Yes； put in some best green。'
Before Christopher could say any more to her； they were emerging by
the corner of the cottage； and one of the brothers drew near them。
'Mr。 Julian； you'll bide and have a cup of tea wi' us？' he inquired
of Christopher。 'An old friend of yours； is he not； Mrs。 Petherwin？
Dan and I be going back to Sandbourne to…night； and we can walk with
'ee as far as the station。'
'I shall be delighted；' said Christopher； and they all entered the
cottage。 The evening had grown clearer by this time； the sun was
peeping out just previous to departure； and sent gold wires of light
across the glades and into the windows； throwing a pattern of the
diamond quarries； and outlines of the geraniums in pots； against the
opposite wall。 One end of the room was polygonal； such a shape
being dictated by the exterior design； in this part the windows were
placed； as at the east end of continental churches。 Thus； from the
combined effects of the ecclesiastical lancet lights and the apsidal
shape of the room； it occurred to Christopher that the sisters were
all a delightful set of pretty saints； exhibiting themselves in a
lady chapel； and backed up by unkempt major prophets； as represented
by the forms of their big brothers。
Christopher sat down to tea as invited； squeezing himself in between
two children whose names were almost as long as their persons； and
whose tin cups discoursed primitive music by means of spoons rattled
inside them until they were filled。 The tea proceeded pleasantly；
notwithstanding that the cake； being a little burnt； tasted on the
outside like the latter plums in snapdragon。 Christopher never
could meet the eye of Picotee； who continued in a wild state of
flushing all the time； fixing her looks upon the sugar…basin； except
when she glanced out of the window to see how the evening was going
on； and speaking no word at all unless it was to correct a small
sister of somewhat crude manners as regards filling the mouth； which
Picotee did in a whisper； and a gentle inclination of her mouth to
the little one's ear； and a still deeper blush than before。
Their visitor next noticed that an additional cup…and…saucer and
plate made their appearance occasionally at the table； were silently
replenished； and then carried off by one of the children to an inner
apartment。
'Our mother is bedridden；' said Ethelberta； noticing Christopher's
look at the proceeding。 'Emmeline attends to the household； except
when Picotee is at home； and Joey attends to the gate； but our
mother's affliction is a very unfortunate thing for the poor
children。 We are thinking of a plan of living which will； I hope；
be more convenient than this is； but we have not yet decided what to
do。' At this minute a carriage and pair of horses became visible
through one of the angular windows of the apse； in the act of
turning in from the highway towards the park gate。 The boy who
answered to the name of Joey sprang up from the table with the
promptness of a Jack…in…the…box； and ran out at the door。 Everybody
turned as the carriage passed through the gate； which Joey held
open； putting his other hand where the brim of his hat would have
been if he had worn one； and lapsing into a careless boy again the
instant that the vehicle had gone by。
'There's a tremendous large dinner…party at the House to…night；'
said Emmeline methodically； looking at the equipage over the edge of
her teacup； without leaving off sipping。 'That was Lord Mountclere。
He's a wicked old man； they say。'
'Lord Mountclere？' said Ethelberta musingly。 'I used to know some
friends of his。 In what way is he wicked？'
'I don't know；' said Emmeline； with simplicity。 'I suppose it is
because he breaks the commandments。 But I wonder how a big rich
lord can want to steal anything。' Emmeline's thoughts of breaking
commandments instinctively fell upon the eighth； as being in her
ideas the only case wherein the gain could be considered as at all
worth the hazard。
Ethelberta said nothing； but Christopher thought that a shade of
depression passed over her。
'Hook back the gate； Joey；' shouted Emmeline； when the carriage had
proceeded up the drive。 'There's more to come。'
Joey did as ordered； and by the time he got indoors another carriage
turned in from the public roada one…horse brougham this time。
'I know who that is： that's Mr。 Ladywell；' said Emmeline； in the
same matter…of…fact tone。 'He's been here afore： he's a distant
relation of the squire's； and he once gave me sixpence for picking
up his gloves。'
'What shall I live to see？' murmured the poetess； under her breath；
nearly dropping her teacup in an involuntary trepidation； from which
she made it a point of dignity to recover in a moment。
Christopher's eyes； at that exhibition from Ethelberta； entered her
own like a pair of lances。 Picotee； seeing Christopher's quick look
of jealousy； became involved in her turn； and grew pale as a lily in
her endeavours to conceal the complications to which it gave birth
in her poor little breast likewise。
'You judge me very wrongly；' said Ethelberta； in answer to
Christopher's hasty look of resentment。
'In supposing Mr。 Ladywell to be a great friend of yours？' said
Christopher； who had in some indescribable way suddenly assumed a
right to Ethelberta as his old property。
'Yes： for I hardly know him； and certainly do not value him。'
After this there was something in the mutual look of the two； though
their words had been private； which did not tend to remove the
anguish of fragile Picotee。 Christopher； assured that Ethelberta's
embarrassment had been caused by nothing more than the sense of her
odd social subsidence； recovered more bliss than he had lost； and
regarded calmly the profile of young Ladywell between the two
windows of his brougham as it passed the open cottage door； bearing
him along unconscious as the dead of the nearness of his beloved
one； and of the sad buffoonery that fate； fortune； and the guardian
angels had been playing with Ethelberta of late。 He recognized the
face as that of the young man whom he had encountered when watching
Ethelberta's window from Rookington Park。
'Perhaps you remember seeing him at the Christmas dance at Wyndway？'
she inquired。 'He is a good…natured fellow。 Afterwards he sent me
that portfolio of sketches you see in the corner。 He might possibly
do something in the world as a painter if he were obliged to work at
the art for his bread； which he is not。' She added with bitter
pleasantry： 'In bare mercy to his self…respect I must remain unseen
here。'
It impressed Christopher to perceive how； under the estrangement
which arose from differences of education； surroundings； experience；
and talent； the sympathies of close relationship were perceptible in
Ethelberta's bearing towards her brothers and sisters。 At a remark
upon some simple pleasure wherein she had not participated because
absent and occupied by far more comprehensive interests； a gloom as
of banishment would cross her face and dim it for awhile； showing
that the free habits and enthusiasms of country life had still their
charm with her； in the face of the subtler gratifications of
abridged bodices； candlelight； and no feelings in particular； which
prevailed in town。 Perhaps the one condition which could work up
into