, THE PANEL; A SHEER COMEDY 
 ;, , By T^vT- : t' 
 
 FORD MADOX HUEPPER 
 
 London, 
 
 Constable and Co., Ltd 
 1912 
 

DEDICATION 
 
 Dear Miss Ada Potter, 
 
 Since it was historic tragedy which, as you might 
 say, brought us together, accept the dedication of this 
 very unhistoric comedy for which you are so largely 
 responsible. 
 
 Why it should have come into your head to inspire 
 me to a task obviously so frivolous and one which will 
 draw down upon my head the reprehensions of the great 
 and serious and the stern disapproval of eminent and 
 various critics, is a matter that lies between yourself and 
 your conscience. Bid I suppose, in this odd, frequently 
 unpleasant and almost always much too serious world, 
 even a person so earnest as yourself feels the desire to 
 be made to laugh by an historian so obviously earnest 
 as I am. 
 
 Accept therefore the full responsibilities of this attempt 
 to satisfy your demand in the spirit which dictates the offer 
 and believe me, 
 
 Your humble obliged and obedient Servant, 
 
 F. M. H. 
 
THE PANEL 
 
 PART I 
 
 MAJOR EDWARD BRENT FOSTER was 
 buying illustrated papers at the bookstall 
 on the main line departure platform of Waterloo 
 Station. He had under his arm a whole sheaf of 
 these for which he had not yet paid, and he was 
 looking at the novels that, in a bright-coloured 
 wall, rose up before his dim eyes, when his tired 
 glance wandered towards the entrance from the 
 booking-office. He exclaimed : 
 
 " Oh, my aunt ! " For, in spite of his short- 
 sightedness, he had perceived Mrs. Kerr Howe, 
 with whom four years before he had been almost 
 too familiar, and he moved swiftly but circum- 
 spectly down the platform. He kept, indeed, 
 an eye over his shoulder whilst he attempted 
 to hum nonchalantly, and he was aware that Mrs. 
 Kerr Howe was undoubtedly following him. He 
 walked more swiftly under the passenger bridge, 
 past another railway bookstall, past the railway 
 barber's and the railway gimcrack shop. He was, 
 
 7 
 
8 THE PANEL 
 
 indeed, almost in the passage that leads to the 
 South Eastern line, and he was wondering if he 
 would ever be able to stop before he reached Ton- 
 bridge or even Calais. Then he ran against a quite 
 girlish figure in very white muslins who had 
 following her a porter burdened with four sorts of 
 dressing-cases. She exclaimed : 
 
 "Teddy Brent!" And Major Brent Foster 
 could not help ejaculating : 
 
 " Oh, my uncle ! " since these relatives were really 
 in his mind. For this was Miss Flossie Delamare, 
 with whom, three years before, he had been almost 
 more familiar. 
 
 She was fair and quite happy, and if her features 
 showed traces of having been overpowdered pro- 
 fessionally, there was not any doubt that she still 
 had a complexion to lose. And she was so plea- 
 santly glad to see him that Major Brent Foster took 
 a desperate resolve. He had slewed round to face 
 her, and he was aware out of the corner of his eye 
 that Mrs. Kerr Howe was hovering a little way away. 
 
 " You've got to save me, Flossie," he said 
 quickly and humorously. " An awful past is after 
 me. I'm not Teddy Brent any more, and I am a 
 reformed character." 
 
 Miss Delamare took on a slightly injured nay, 
 it occurred to him that it was a very hurt air. 
 
 " Oh, well, Teddie," she said, " I'm not part of 
 your awful past ! If you don't want to be Teddy 
 
THE PANEL 9 
 
 Brent to me, you can be the Reverend Jonas 
 Whale, though it's not like you, Teddy." 
 
 He was aware that Mrs. Kerr Howe, brought up 
 by this conversation, was moving regretfully back 
 to the main line platform. 
 
 " Oh, keep talking, Flossie darling ! " he ex- 
 claimed. " Keep talking ! The cloud's rolling by ! 
 I am a reformed character but it's rolling by." 
 
 " Teddy," she said, " I don't believe you need- 
 that you ever needed to be a reformed character." 
 
 " Oh, but I am," he asseverated, with an air that 
 was partly earnest and partly humorous. " I don't 
 drink when anybody's looking, and only between 
 meals, anyhow. And I don't smoke when anyone can 
 smell it. And as for ... that sort of thing ..." 
 
 She said, " Well ? " interestedly. 
 
 " Oh, well," he sighed, " of course there's 
 Olympia Olympia Peabody that I'm engaged to. 
 And that doesn't leave any smell. I mean ..." 
 
 " You mean," she said, " that it does not matter 
 who's looking or whether it's between meals or 
 at them. And it's not much fun. And we're all 
 getting older and wiser. . . . That sort of dis- 
 agreeable thing. . . . Now, at Simla ... at 
 Simla ..." She suddenly turned upon her 
 porter. " Look here," she exclaimed, " I shall miss 
 my train. Go and put my things in^a first an 
 empty first smoker. I want to be alone. Tell the 
 guard, Miss Flossie Delamare . . . he'll know." 
 
10 THE PANEL 
 
 The porter said, " Yes, miss," and lurched away 
 beneath all her dressing-cases. 
 
 " And you . . . you're as famous as all that ? ' 
 he asked. 
 
 " As all what ? " she said. 
 
 " That every guard knows your name ? " 
 
 " Oh, is that all ? " she said. " Why, every 
 Anabaptist minister knows my name." 
 
 Major Brent Foster raised his eyebrows inter- 
 rogatively. " Anabaptist ? " he asked. 
 
 " Oh, particularly ! " she said. " I've been 
 causing trouble in that camp." 
 
 Conscious of a minute pang of something re- 
 sembling jealousy, he said : " Of course, you would 
 cause trouble in that camp. Now, I've got an 
 uncle who's an Anabaptist a Post Ana- 
 baptist. ..." 
 
 " My old Johnnie's a Post Anabaptist, too," 
 Miss Delamare said. 
 
 " Well, that's all right, that's all right," Major 
 Brent Foster exclaimed touchily. " Those are 
 your private affairs. I've got to catch my train," 
 and he moved off towards the platform. She 
 walked beside him. 
 
 " You know, Teddy," she said rather plaintively, 
 " you're very funny to-day. You're not a bit like 
 your old Irish self. You're not a bit even like a 
 gentleman." 
 
 " Oh, hang it all ! " he exclaimed. " No, I'm 
 
THE PANEL 11 
 
 not a bit like my old Irish self. I'm not even a 
 gentleman. I tell you I'm a reformed character." 
 
 She opened resignedly her immense reticule, 
 which was made of brown canvas sewn over with 
 silver lace, black pearls, and red coral. She pro- 
 duced a large white card. 
 
 " Oh, well, Teddy," she said, " here's my ad- 
 dress. Come and see me one day next week." 
 
 He gave a start back as if the card had been 
 red hot. 
 
 " My God, no ! " he exclaimed. " I shall be in 
 the country all next week. I never call on anybody. 
 I shut myself up. I work, I tell you. I read the 
 complete works of Henry James. That's why I'm 
 the youngest major in the British Army." 
 
 " Oh, well, Teddy," she said, " you're very 
 funny. Almost as funny as you used to be in the 
 old days. Only in another way. Don't you re- 
 member Simla . . . and the pukka drives ? . . . 
 Don't look so miserable ! Tm not your awful 
 past. I'm not going to upset Miss Olympia Pea- 
 body. I guess that's your awful past waiting for 
 you under the foot-bridge." 
 
 He gave an agitated glance towards those 
 shadows. Sure enough, though to him she was 
 nothing but a blur of gay colours, beneath the 
 foot-bridge, there was the emerald-green tulle dust- 
 cloak and the immense black hat with the pink 
 roses of Mrs. Kerr Howe. 
 
12 THE PANEL 
 
 Major Brent Foster clutched the wrist of Miss 
 Delamare. 
 
 " Oh, stop with me, Flossie," he said ; " stop 
 with me ! She won't come near me while you are 
 here." 
 
 " I'll stop with you," she said. " I'll stop with 
 you as long as you like, old boy. That's to say, 
 I'm travelling by the 6.48, so I shall have to 
 leave you and cut at 6.46." 
 
 " I'm travelling by the 6.48, too," he an- 
 swered ; and then he exclaimed : " Look here, 
 Flossie, Mrs. Kerr Howe isn't really my awful 
 past. I haven't got an awful past at all. Only a 
 damned beastly unpleasant past. Dust and ashes 
 that's what has crocked up my poor eyes and 
 alkali wells in Somaliland." 
 
 Miss Delamare said rather viciously : " Oh, we 
 always knew, even in Simla, that it had got its 
 little girl waiting for it with trusting eyes in a little 
 parsonage. But we didn't know that its little girl's 
 little name was Olympia. I shouldn't care to waste 
 twelve years not for an Olympia. I'd have my 
 little horse show in between the big meetings." 
 
 " I don't in the least understand you," Major 
 Brent Foster said. 
 
 " Of course, you wouldn't ! " she said. " Being 
 so long out of England and studying for the Staff 
 College Exam, and all." 
 
 " What I want you to understand," he an- 
 
THE PANEL 13 
 
 swered, " is that Mrs. Kerr Howe is not an awful 
 past. She's just a burr. She's a sticker. That's 
 what she is. And as she is got up in pink and 
 green, and her husband's been dead eighteen 
 months, it's a sign that she's dangerous." 
 
 " Well, I seem to be dangerous, too," Miss 
 Delamare said plaintively. 
 
 " Oh, you're dangerous in another way," Major 
 Brent Foster said earnestly. " Don't you see, 
 she's a black draught : you're a little spoonful 
 of jam. That's the difference. She's remorse : 
 you're temptation. That's the difference, too." 
 
 " Well now, Teddy, that's decent of you," she 
 said. " I'll forgive you miles and miles for that 
 and leave you to your Olympia." 
 
 She looked up the platform ; they were stand- 
 ing in front of the other bookstall, just near the 
 gimcrack shop. 
 
 " Mrs. Kerr Howe," she said, " seems to have 
 given up the game, so I can go and find my seat. 
 Of course, it's a privilege to have been allowed to 
 gaze on Mrs. Kerr Howe even from a distance." 
 
 " Why the devil should it be ?" he asked. 
 
 " Well, you did entertain angels unawares in 
 Simla," she mocked at him. " There you had me 
 and ain't I the top notch of musical comedy ? 
 And there you had Mrs. Kerr Howe, and isn't she 
 the greatest and most popular novelist the world 
 has ever seen ? " 
 
14 THE PANEL 
 
 " I didn't know," Major Brent Foster said inno- 
 cently ; " but, of course, I'm awfully glad, Flossie. 
 You used to be rather a starved little rat in 
 Simla." 
 
 " So I was, Teddy," she said, " and you were 
 pretty good to me. I shan't forget it. Good-bye, 
 old Teddy. I expect you'll be a sidesman and take 
 round the plate before we meet again." 
 
 She moved away up the platform, and Major 
 Brent Foster remained looking at the bookstall. 
 The name " Juliana Kerr Howe " met his eye at 
 least twenty-seven times. There was Pink Passion, 
 by Juliana Kerr Howe, with the picture of a lady 
 in a pink nightgown. There was All for Love, by 
 Juliana Kerr Howe, with the gilt design of a 
 pierced heart and a broken globe on the cover. 
 There was a lady's weekly periodical with the in- 
 scription in purple letters, " The Lonely Girl. Read 
 about her inside. By Juliana Kerr Howe." 
 
 Major Brent Foster exclaimed " My God ! " in 
 an appalled manner. Then he suddenly attacked 
 the small boy who was sitting behind the stall. 
 
 " Do you mean to say," he said, and in his 
 agitation the trace of an Irish accent became 
 audible in his voice, " do you mean to say that 
 you haven't got a single book of James' ? " 
 
 " Never heard the name," the bookstall boy 
 said. " But there's plenty by Mrs. Kerr Howe." 
 
 " That kelch ! " Major Foster exclaimed. " I 
 
THE PANEL 15 
 
 tell you, it was reading the books of James that 
 made me the youngest major in the British Army. 
 You tell all your customers that." 
 
 And then extraordinary things happened to 
 Major Brent Foster. It began with the soft, 
 crawling voice of Mrs. Kerr Howe that exclaimed 
 at his elbow : 
 
 " Captain Edward Brent ! " 
 He spun round and exclaimed : " Mrs. Kerr 
 Howe by all that's wonderful ! I was just buying 
 all your books ! " 
 
 And almost simultaneously he heard from 
 behind his back the voice of Miss Flossie Delamare 
 saying plaintively, " Teddy dear, there's some- 
 thing I want to say to you. I don't want you to 
 think I am any worse than I am." 
 
 There was also the gruff voice of the clerk at 
 the first bookstall remarking : 
 
 " You haven't paid for them magazines." 
 Major Brent Foster spun round on his heel 
 once more. Mrs. Kerr Howe walked frostily up 
 the platform, and Miss Delamare gazed after her 
 with spiteful glee. 
 
 " I'm watching over you, Teddy, all right ! " 
 she laughed. " I watched that cat of a woman. 
 She was hiding on the other side of the steps of 
 the bridge. And the moment she saw me leave 
 you she sailed down. Did you see her draw her 
 skirts together as I came up ? She was afraid I 
 
16 THE PANEL 
 
 was going to defile her. Her ! Who writes books 
 called A Maid and No Maid. I should be ashamed ! " 
 
 " You're a regular brick," Major Foster ex- 
 claimed. They had walked a little way from the 
 bookstall. The voice of the first clerk came in a 
 sort of chorus : 
 
 " You haven't paid for them magazines. Three 
 and fourpence." 
 
 " Not but what," Miss Delamare continued, 
 " I wasn't speaking the truth when I said that I 
 had something to tell you. It's true that I don't 
 want to let you think that I am worse than I am. 
 Now this old Johnnie this Anabaptist that I was 
 speaking of. I don't want you to think to 
 think that I'm . . ." she brought it out " living 
 with him." 
 
 " Three and fourpence," the bookstall clerk 
 remarked. " You come to my stall, and you 
 took three and fourpence worth of papers and 
 you never paid for them." 
 
 " Oh, go away ! " Major Brent Foster ex- 
 claimed, and he pushed his elbow into the book- 
 stall clerk's chest. He continued to Miss Dela- 
 mare : 
 
 " I'm awfully glad to hear it, old girl. I always 
 warned you against that sort of thing. It doesn't 
 pay ! " " 
 
 " If you don't pay that three and fourpence ..." 
 the clerk chimed in. 
 
THE PANEL 17 
 
 " It's like this, Teddy," Miss Delamare said in 
 a sort of whisper of confession. And then she 
 suddenly raised her voice quite high. " Aren't 
 you going to kiss me, Teddy ? " she exclaimed. 
 " Not a good-bye kiss if we part for ever ? " Her 
 voice was a fine wail. But this time Mrs. Kerr 
 Howe, who had returned, was not to be driven off. 
 
 " I only want to tell Captain Brent," she said 
 in her sweetest and most crawling tones, " that I 
 shall be in the special carriage that his uncle has 
 reserved for his guests. There is only five minutes 
 before the train starts." 
 
 "I'll come and find you," Major Brent Foster 
 said. " I just want a word with my sister." 
 
 Mrs. Kerr Howe answered meaningly : 
 
 "Then I won't intrude." She added, "A 
 tant6t ? " languishingly, and really went away. 
 
 The bookstall clerk remarked : 
 
 " I shall have to fetch an officer." 
 
 Major Brent Foster burst into the most violent 
 oaths. 
 
 " That woman ! " he screamed, " going to my 
 uncle's ! In the same carriage with me ! How 
 does she know my uncle ? How does she know 
 I've got an uncle ? " 
 
 " Oh, well, Teddy," Miss Delamare said, " every- 
 one's got an uncle. Even I've got one real one. 
 And there are hundreds of Johnnies who have 
 offered to be uncles to me. But I've done my 
 B 
 
18 THE PANEL 
 
 best for you. You'll have to see it through now. 
 And what I wanted to explain is this . . ." 
 
 " I'm going to fetch an officer now," the book- 
 stall clerk exclaimed, and he went away. 
 
 " You know, Teddy," Miss Delamare said, 
 " you'd better pay that man." 
 
 Major Brent Foster exclaimed violently : 
 
 " Oh, hell ! " Then he fumbled in his waist- 
 coat pocket and pitched half a sovereign on to the 
 bookstall. After the half-sovereign he pitched 
 the papers themselves. The boy began to scramble 
 amongst his literature for his coin. 
 
 "Now, that's like the old dear Teddy," Miss 
 Delamare said. He had hooked his hand into 
 her arm and was drawing her away up the plat- 
 form. " That's more like you to chuck away 
 half a sov. and not to wait for the change." 
 
 " I'm ruined, anyhow, if Mrs. Kerr Howe is 
 going to my uncle's," he answered vindictively. 
 
 " Poor old Teddy ! " Miss Delamare said, with 
 a note of commiseration. And then she continued 
 swiftly : " But what I wanted to tell you was this 
 about how I came to get in with those people. 
 You know, somewhere up in the north of London 
 there are a lot of rich Nonconformists. People 
 with hot-houses and peaches, and being Aldermen 
 and so on. And I've got a chum Lottie Charles. 
 And Lottie Charles was precious down on her 
 luck, and the North London Congregations had 
 
THE PANEL 19 
 
 started a Society for the Reform of the Stage. 
 And Lottie, as she couldn't get anything in the 
 world to do, used to walk before them once a 
 week as an awful example you know the sort 
 of thing. So one day Lottie Charles came to me, 
 and she says it would be doing her no end of a 
 good turn if I would come and pose too. Well, 
 of course, I've nothing against doing anything 
 in the world to oblige an old chum. She and 
 me were on the old North Circuit. Roomed it 
 and ate off the same old red herring together. 
 So, of course, I said I'd do it. But it did not 
 suit me to be wept over and pawed by a lot of 
 Nonconformists, so I said I'd read them a lecture 
 
 On the ' REAL REFORM OF THE STAGE.' Of COUrSC, 
 
 I don't know anything about reforms; the Stage 
 is all right as long as you're jolly well on the top. 
 But I've got another pal Robin, his name is 
 a dramatic critic. Awful prim and respectable 
 chap ; always with an umbrella. But he writes 
 articles about me that bring the tears to your 
 eyes ; he says I'm the symphonic embodiment 
 of quaint imbecility, and as such have my worth. 
 I learned the words by heart, though what they 
 mean passes me. So up I goes to Robin on the 
 first night of "Pigs is Pigs," and I just asked him 
 point blank to write the lecture for me on the 
 real reform of the Stage. And, what's more, he 
 did it. So I learned it by heart, and I just 
 
20 THE PANEL 
 
 slung it at those Johnnies. My ! you should 
 have heard me. Cheer ? I don't think ! Cry at 
 the pathetic passages ? Not half they did not. . . . 
 But it was the fine lecture and all. The Stage ! 
 The Stage was to regenerate the people's morals. 
 It was to replace the old pulpit. It was to fill 
 the minds of the unthinking with thought ! My 
 goodness me, I never heard such talk ! But I 
 slung it at them in a sort of awful mournful voice, 
 like Mrs. Pat's. You know ! . . . And the end 
 of it is that the old chap who was the chairman, 
 and a millionaire, and a Common- Council man 
 that old chap is never out of my diggings. And 
 his missus, too, you understand. There's nothing 
 underhand about it. His missus likes me as 
 much as he does, and more. Like a mother she 
 is. And I'm going down now to stop at their 
 country house. . . . But the long and short of it 
 is that the old chap is building a theatre for me. 
 And we're going to put on the weirdest sort of 
 old reforming plays. And I've got a ten years' 
 contract, and that critic man is to be general 
 manager. So I'm provided for, Teddy, old boy. 
 It's a funny world." 
 
II 
 
 MAJOR BRENT FOSTER was not, however, 
 paying much attention to his companion. As 
 they approached the train he observed Miss Dela- 
 mare's porter standing at the door of one first-class 
 carriage. At the door of the next was Mrs. Kerr 
 Howe, and the compartment beside which she 
 stood was labelled "Reserved." The bookstall 
 clerk was speaking to a railway policeman at 
 the door of the booking-office. Miss Delamare 
 walked straight to the door of her compartment ; 
 she held out her peachy pink cheek, and re- 
 marked : 
 
 " Ain't you really going to kiss me, Teddy 
 for old time's sake ? " And there was such a 
 plaintive tone in her voice that, with a fierce 
 determination, he stretched out his lips. But she 
 just laughed and jumped into her carriage. 
 
 " Keep it for the Horse Show," she said. 
 
 He was by now in a temper that made him 
 ready to face Mrs. Kerr Howe and half a dozen 
 devils, so that he marched straight upon the 
 reserved compartment. But again his heart 
 failed. He was ready to face the lady and several 
 
 21 
 
22 THE PANEL 
 
 devils. Facing her alone was another matter. 
 And the compartment was empty ! 
 
 At that moment he perceived a rather diabolical - 
 looking old gentleman in a fur coat, though 
 it was June, and a soft, curious felt hat. 
 The old gentleman, accompanied by a guard 
 and a porter, was obviously looking for a first- 
 class carriage. And Major Brent Foster chanced 
 his luck. He did not know the old gentleman 
 from Adam, but he exclaimed : 
 
 " Come along, Sir Arthur. Glad to see you. 
 Get in here, and let's travel together. It's a long 
 time since we met." 
 
 The old gentleman seemed haughtily puzzled. 
 But the carriage was comfortably empty, and 
 the major had already pushed in the porter, 
 bags and all. And immediately he was in the 
 midst of a scene. There was Miss Delamare 
 laughing out of her window. There was the 
 guard with his flag, lingering, as if to give 
 the finishing touches to his train. There was 
 Mrs. Kerr Howe just getting in. And then 
 suddenly the voice of the bookstall clerk ex- 
 claimed : 
 
 " Officer, arrest that man for theft." 
 
 Major Brent Foster got into the carriage, and, 
 treading on the old gentleman's toes as he turned, 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " Go away ! I haven't got your magazines." 
 
THE PANEL 23 
 
 " You've disposed of them to an accomplice," 
 the bookstall clerk cried out. 
 
 " I paid half a sovereign for them,' the major 
 exclaimed good-naturedly. 
 
 " Not at my stall," the clerk said. 
 
 44 No, of course not," the major said. " I 
 never do pay at the stall where I buy them. It's 
 the only way to keep a check on you fellows. 
 I'm a shareholder." 
 
 The guard suggested that it was time ; the 
 railway policeman, who had said that he had 
 no powers to arrest, suggested that the gentle- 
 man might leave his name and address. The 
 major called out : 
 
 " Major Brent Foster, the Manor, Basildon, 
 Hants," and the train moved on. The major 
 sank down in the seat opposite the old gentleman, 
 and exclaimed : 
 
 "What a day!" 
 
 Almost at the same moment Mrs. Kerr Howe 
 exclaimed : 
 
 44 So you've changed your name, Teddy." 
 And the old man said violently : 
 
 44 Who are you, sir ? I don't know your name, 
 sir ! What is the meaning of this outrage ? " 
 
 44 Of course, I changed my name," the major 
 explained first to Mrs. Kerr Howe. 4l My old 
 name wasn't popular. It stunk in my uncle's 
 nostrils. I changed it on the day I was engaged 
 
24 THE PANEL 
 
 to Olympia." Then he turned mildly on the 
 old gentleman. " That's probably why you do 
 not recognize my name. I used to be called 
 Edward Brent." 
 
 "I'm not a connoisseur of unsavoury names," 
 the old gentleman said bitterly. " I presume 
 you're a groom ? " 
 
 " Now I don't see why you should presume 
 that," the major said. 
 
 " You say you're engaged at Olympia," the 
 old man said. " I cannot imagine anyone but 
 grooms being engaged there." 
 
 The major exclaimed, " Oh ! " And then he 
 said, " That's what you all mean. The fact is, 
 I've been out of England for so long put away, 
 as you might say, and working like a nigger to 
 get through that I can't be expected to recognize 
 these topical matters. Of course, Olympia is a 
 horse show. That's what Flossie meant ! " He 
 looked at Mrs. Kerr Howe as if for confirmation, 
 and then he added, " Of course, Sir Arthur, I 
 said I was engaged not at, but to, Olympia 
 Miss Olympia Peabody, of Boston State Re- 
 formatory." 
 
 The old gentleman positively shivered. 
 
 "I'm not losing my nerve," he said, " I never 
 lost my nerve in my life, but all this has a very 
 criminal sound. Be good enough to explain, or 
 I shall certainly pull the alarm cord." 
 
THE PANEL 25 
 
 " But, my dear Sir Arthur . . ." Major Brent 
 Foster exclaimed. 
 
 " How do you know my name ? " the old 
 gentleman asked sharply. He had a very hale 
 and hearty face, with red cheek-bones, a white 
 beard, a savage black moustache, and savage 
 black eyebrows. 
 
 "As if I did not know your face," the major 
 said, and he wondered amiably who the old 
 gentleman could be in the world. " Wasn't 
 your photograph on the study desk of my best 
 chum Toppy at Harrow ? " 
 
 " It certainly wasn't," the old gentleman said. 
 " I do not know any individual of the name of 
 Toppy. You trepan me into the compartment 
 of yourself and your female companion. The 
 first thing I hear is that you are accused of theft. 
 You stamp upon my toes, and announce that you 
 have changed your name because it is unsavoury 
 to your relatives. You certainly appear to know 
 my name. But there is nothing astonishing 
 about that, for in these curiosity - mongering 
 times my face is constantly appearing in the 
 public Press." 
 
 " Oh, I say," Major Brent Foster said guile- 
 lessly, " there's nothing curious about your face. 
 It's rather a fine face, if you'll excuse my saying 
 so." 
 
 Major Brent Foster was upon the whole happy, 
 
26 THE PANEL 
 
 for the longer he could keep up any sort of a 
 talk with this mysterious Sir Arthur, the longer 
 he could stave off a private explanation with 
 Mrs. Kerr Howe. Sir Arthur blushed with fury, 
 and his eyes positively sparkled. 
 
 " I did not mean," he said, " that my face is 
 a curiosity, as if it were, what I believe it is the 
 custom to call, a freak. I meant that, as I enjoy 
 a certain celebrity, my face is frequently repro- 
 duced in the Press." 
 
 " But that only means," Major Brent Foster said 
 amiably, " that the Press is doing its duty. It 
 inspirits us nobodies to know what our leaders 
 look like." 
 
 Sir Arthur appeared modified in his course of rage. 
 
 " Understand me," he said, " if the Press con- 
 fined itself to the portrayal of leaders of thought, 
 there would be little to complain of." 
 
 " Now that was what I was just saying to 
 my little friend, Miss Flossie Delamare," the 
 major invented boldly. " She is in the next com- 
 partment because she was too shy to come into 
 such distinguished society as that of you and 
 Mrs. Kerr Howe." 
 
 The old gentleman raised both his hands in an 
 attitude of tragic horror ; but Mrs. Kerr Howe 
 said eagerly : 
 
 " You're such a consummate liar, Teddy, that 
 there's never a chance to know what you do 
 
THE PANEL 27 
 
 mean. But if that was Miss Flossie Delamare, 
 why in the world did you not bring her in 
 here ? " 
 
 The major did not in the least understand where 
 he was getting to. 
 
 " I don't see why a great writer like you should 
 want to know a poor little thing like Flossie," he 
 said. " But, at any rate, she was too modest. 
 She's a retiring little thing." 
 
 " You said she was your sister," Mrs. Kerr 
 Howe remarked sweetly. 
 
 " So she is," the major said pleasantly ; "a 
 sort of a half-sister. Only, of course, it's a painful 
 subject, and it would not be quite kind to mention 
 it, you understand. You understand. But still, 
 she's my oldest woman friend." 
 
 " It's strange you never mentioned her at 
 Simla," Mrs. Howe said. " Don't you remember 
 Simla and the pukka drives ? And you never once 
 mentioned her name." 
 
 " Of course I should not," the major said ; 
 " that's only her stage name. Besides, at that 
 time we had quarrelled. I should not have been 
 likely to mention her name. It was a deadly 
 quarrel about her being on the stage." 
 
 " I suppose it was the same old quarrel going 
 on just now ? " Mrs. Kerr Howe asked. 
 
 " But we weren't quarrelling," the major an- 
 swered. " We're the best of friends. If I were 
 
28 THE PANEL 
 
 not going to marry Olympia, I don't see that I 
 could do better than marry Flossie." 
 
 " Your half-sister ! " Mrs. Howe uttered. 
 
 " You're awfully unimaginative for a writer," 
 the major said. " What I mean is that if I were 
 not going to marry Olympia, I should have little 
 Flossie to keep house for me. She's the best and 
 kind-heartedest and staunchest little thing in the 
 world. That's how I feel." 
 
 "And I'm sure," Mrs. Howe said, " it does your 
 fraternal feelings credit. But that does not ex- 
 plain how you come to be parting for good. For 
 I heard her ask you to kiss her for that reason." 
 
 " Oh, you're a perfect fool sometimes, my dear 
 Juliana," the major said. " Of course we are on 
 the best terms in the world. And of course we 
 have to part for good. It explains itself. How 
 can I have an unexplained half-sister going about 
 with me when I am going to marry Olympia ? 
 It's a ridiculous idea. Think of the discredit it 
 would cast on my family." 
 
 Sir Arthur began suddenly to speak, and the 
 major heaved a sigh of relief. He would just as 
 soon- being Irish ! lie as not. But Mrs. Howe was 
 a little wearying. 
 
 " My young friend," the old man said, " I begin 
 to understand that you are not, as I at first con- 
 sidered you, a criminal. You stand up for your 
 humble relation in a way that is quite creditable 
 
THE PANEL 29 
 
 in this immoral and thoughtless age. But you 
 will oblige me by kindly explaining where you 
 have met me before, and who Toppy is the 
 gentleman that used to have my likeness on his 
 desk." 
 
 Major Brent Foster heaved a deep sigh. 
 
 " I used to meet you at the Admiral's balls at 
 Portsmouth," he said succinctly, " and Toppy 
 was the nickname of your son Arthur at Harrow. 
 He was my room-mate." 
 
 " And pray who am I, then ? " Sir Arthur asked. 
 
 " You ! " the major said guilelessly. " You 
 are Rear- Admiral Sir Arthur Bowles." The old 
 gentleman had such a martial air that the major 
 thought he was safe to put him in one or other of 
 the services more probably in the Navy, because 
 of his beard. The old gentleman raised both of his 
 hands to heaven. 
 
 "I," he said, " I am Sir Arthur Johnson, the 
 president of the First Church of Christ Quietist in 
 London." 
 
 " Well, it's a most extraordinary world I've 
 come back to," the major sighed. " Everybody 
 I have met since I left Somaliland, is a reformer of 
 something. There's Olympia. She's the honorary 
 secretary of the Massachusetts Reformatory, and 
 Perpetual Grand Mistress of the Boston Society for 
 the Abolition of Vice. There's my aunt that I'm 
 going to, dear old soul, who knows about as much 
 
30 THE PANEL 
 
 of evil as an egg knows of aeroplanes, and she's 
 the secretary of the Society for the Suppression of 
 Sin. Now what are you reforming, Juliana ? " 
 
 " I ? " Mrs. Kerr Howe said. " I am the presi- 
 dent of the Society for Abolishing Conventional 
 Marriage.*' 
 
 " My God ! " the Major said, " I guess you're 
 cut out for the part. But I'm hanged if the only 
 person that I know that isn't the president of some- 
 thing or other isn't my old humbug of an uncle, 
 and yet you'd say he was just cut out for the part. 
 Why even Flossie, little Flossie, is something of the 
 sort. She's the only woman on the stage who 
 looks anything than a stuffed fiddle in tights and 
 she's going to be the first manager of a show for 
 
 the REFORM OF THE THEATRE." 
 
 Mrs. Kerr Howe leaned forward from her corner 
 to say as clearly as possible : 
 
 " It's your uncle who is the founder of the 
 National Society for Theatre Reform. It's he that 
 is going to build the theatre for Miss Delamare." 
 
 The major sank down in his seat, all crumpled 
 together as if he had fallen from a great height. 
 
 " Just Heaven ! " he said ; " then my uncle 
 and aunt are the respectable couple that Flossie 
 said she was going to visit. Then she's travelling 
 down with us. She ought to have been in this 
 carriage." 
 
 " I wish she had been," Mrs. Kerr Howe said 
 
THE PANEL 81 
 
 sweetly. " I most particularly want to talk to 
 her." 
 
 " More than you want to talk to me ? " the 
 major asked. 
 
 " Oh, of course, I shall have to have an explana- 
 tion with you before the day is out," Mrs. Kerr 
 Howe said grimly. " I certainly intend to have 
 one. But I want a regular what you might call 
 heart talk with Miss Delamare before she gets 
 down to your uncle." 
 
 " About " the major rather gasped " about 
 things ! " 
 
 " Of course, about things," Mrs. Kerr Howe 
 said ; " about the most important things in the 
 world. I want to point out to Miss Delamare 
 that you can't reform the theatre without re- 
 forming the conventional idea about marriage. 
 I want a play I've written to be the very first that 
 she puts on at the Reformed Theatre. This is not 
 self-seeking on my part it's the most important 
 thing in the world, the reform of conventional 
 marriage." 
 
 " Oh, I see," the major said amiably, " you 
 want to nobble her before she makes any business 
 arrangements with my uncle." He paused and 
 remained lost in thought. But Sir Arthur Johnson 
 was anxious to explain his position. 
 
 " I am anxious to explain my position," he said, 
 " so that there may not be any mistake about it." 
 'f 
 
32 THE PANEL 
 
 " I am sure it will be extremely interesting," 
 the major said politely. 
 
 " I am not in the habit," the president of the 
 Quietist Church continued, " of entering into 
 conversation with strangers in a railway carriage. 
 I never lose my temper that is the great lesson 
 that Quietism teaches us. No, I never lose my 
 temper. But when you stamped very hard upon 
 my toes, that, I must confess, induced in me what 
 we are accustomed to call a marked quickening of 
 ideas. That, you see, is quite different from losing 
 one's temper. From the fact that you have 
 dragged me into this carriage, stamped upon my 
 toes, mentioned that you have changed a dis- 
 creditable name and had, what I took to be, an 
 engagement in a place frequented by grooms, 
 horsey people, and the criminal classes generally 
 from all these facts together I imagined that you 
 yourself were either a groom or a member of a 
 horsey and criminal class. I imagined that, know- 
 ing that I was the head of an advanced and wealthy 
 body, you imagined that I carried about with rne 
 in my hand -baggage, which you had observed to 
 be very heavy, the funds of the Church of which 
 I am the head." 
 
 " So that there we all, in a manner of speaking, 
 are," the major astonishingly remarked. 
 
 " I don't take you," Sir Arthur said frostily. 
 
 " Oh, that's a way I've got," the major said, 
 
THE PANEL 33 
 
 " from studying the works of Henry James. His 
 characters are perpetually remarking ' so that 
 there, in a manner of speaking, we are.' And, 
 of course, as you can never make out where 
 they are, it's extraordinarily strengthening to the 
 brain to work it out. That's why I'm the youngest 
 major in the British Army." 
 
 " I don't see what all that has to do with me," 
 Sir Arthur said frostily. " What I have to do is 
 to make my position quite plain to you. When 
 I considered that you and your female companion 
 were dangerous criminals intent on stealing from 
 me the contents of my very heavy luggage, I at 
 once matured a plan. That is one of the great 
 benefits of Quietism that, instead of letting your 
 thoughts waste themselves on useless anger, they 
 are quickened. I immediately matured a plan. 
 I said to myself, these are dangerous robbers, 
 intent on securing the contents of my luggage. 
 What I have to do is, before they come to any 
 actual deed of violence, to let them understand 
 that the contents of my bags consist in nothing but 
 works of reference every kind of work of refer- 
 ence, but nothing else." 
 
 44 Now that's extraordinarily interesting," the 
 major said. " I suppose you toughen your brain 
 on works of reference, just as I do mine on the 
 works of the author to whom I can never be 
 sufficiently grateful. Now I wonder," he con- 
 
34 THE PANEL 
 
 tinned, " if your sort of literature has the same 
 effect on your mind as mine has on mine ? I mean 
 that I can't possibly read any book in which the 
 characters aren't always saying ' so there, in a 
 manner of speaking, we are.' It's like a craze a 
 sort of infection. Nothing else seems really to 
 amuse me. And I daresay it's the same with you. 
 I mean, I suppose you can't read anything that 
 doesn't look like, ' Denmark, pop. 8,000,742. 
 King constitutional. Cap. Cit. Copenhagen. . . .' 
 That's the sort of thing that you get in works of 
 reference, isn't it ? " 
 
 " I don't know about that," Sir Arthur 
 said haughtily ; " but I certainly cannot read 
 the cryptic, morbid, and unpleasant stuff that in 
 the present day passes for literature." 
 
 " Well, of course," the major said, " here in a 
 manner of speaking I mean, that accounts for 
 it all. It's been an extraordinary privilege and 
 pleasure, getting to know you. The moment I 
 saw you, I knew you to be someone commanding. 
 There couldn't be the least mistake about that. 
 I thought you were Vice-Admiral Sir Arthur 
 Bowles. . . ." 
 
 " You said Rear- Admiral just now," Sir Arthur 
 said. 
 
 " Rear- Admiral Sir Arthur Bowles," the major 
 continued, undisturbed, " because, of course, an 
 Admiral in his own fleet is a sort of pope. And 
 
THE PANEL 85 
 
 the moment I saw your, if you will pardon my 
 saying so, noble head, I knew you were a sort of 
 pope. And you are. You are the head of a 
 Church. I was perfectly right in wanting your 
 company. It will, in a manner of speaking, purify 
 the whole day, and be a memory to retain till the 
 end of one's life." 
 
 Sir Arthur Johnson appeared visibly flattered. 
 He stroked his white beard, touched with his 
 gloved hands his blue-black moustache, and his 
 blue-black and formidable eyebrows assumed a 
 mollified turn. 
 
 " Then let that be the end of it," he said. " I 
 was about to address some further remarks to you. 
 But they would probably strike you unpleasantly. 
 Of course I have not the least objection to being 
 unpleasant if it would be for your good, but at 
 the end of this journey we shall part, and you are 
 probably hardened in what I am bound to call 
 your evil courses." 
 
 " Well, you speak straight, and no mistake," 
 the major said. 
 
 " I do," Sir Arthur answered, " and if you 
 would kindly remove yourself to the other end of 
 the carriage, opposite your companion, I may be 
 able to resume the studies that you have inter- 
 rupted." 
 
 The major humbly got up and humbly sat 
 down opposite Mrs. Kerr Howe. The train con- 
 
36 THE PANEL 
 
 tinned on its way ; the old gentleman arose and, 
 a fierce and martial figure in his fur cloak, he 
 began to take a great quantity of red and blue and 
 green books out of a large leather kit-bag. These 
 he laid upon the seat in front of him, where the 
 major had vacated it. 
 
 " Extraordinary sort of day this," the major 
 remarked to Mrs. Kerr Howe. 
 
 Mrs. Kerr Howe said nothing, and for a moment 
 there was a tranquillity that even Major Brent 
 Foster though he loved a scrap considered 
 blessed. Mrs. Kerr Howe was looking out of the 
 window, and he considered her carefully. If he 
 was going to spend at his uncle's several days, 
 weeks, or months in the society of Mrs. Howe, of 
 Flossie Delamare and of his fiancee, Miss Peabody, 
 who was not in her first youth being six months 
 older than the major and in consequence was 
 not too certain of her charms, well, he would cer- 
 tainly need to know how the land lay. 
 
 It was an extraordinary muddle. There was 
 Mrs. Kerr Howe ; there could not be the least 
 doubt about her charms. Olympia certainly 
 would not doubt them and the major sighed, 
 because, of course, from duty and inclination, 
 he had to consider Olympia first. 
 
 Mrs. Kerr Howe was little and dimpled to a degree 
 that the major hardly believed credible. It struck 
 him as a sort of false pretences. She ought to be 
 
THE PANEL 37 
 
 fluffy-minded, clinging and affectionate ; so at 
 least he had imagined her to be in the first days 
 at Simla, where she had come in the train as a sort 
 of guest of the Viceroy's wife. In those days he 
 had been lonely, rottenly poor, four years younger, 
 and twenty-four years gayer and more irrespon- 
 sible than he was even then. And Mrs. Kerr Howe 
 had trotted about with him, little and dimples 
 and all. She had even read her novels to him 
 sloppy novels that she turned out at the rate of 
 one a fortnight, each one containing a lady like 
 Mrs. Kerr Howe a sentimental lady who went 
 extraordinarily " wrong." At that date she had 
 not been able to find a publisher for any one of 
 them, though she had paid to publish two. 
 
 And little by little he had discovered, even at 
 Simla, that in that little dimpled body there 
 dwelt the spirit of a six-foot grenadier. She knew 
 what she wanted, and she was extraordinarily set 
 on getting it. And one of the things that she 
 wanted, it had appeared, was Captain Edward 
 Brent. There was not a doubt about that. 
 
 He really had not done much. He might have 
 taken her for a drive half a dozen times ; he had 
 listened to four or five of her novels it was true 
 that when she had come to the gurgly love passages 
 she had always gazed into his eyes, but that was 
 not his fault. He had taken her to the Swanston 
 pony races, and almost beggared himself over it, 
 
38 THE PANEL 
 
 since he hadn't a pice but his captain's pay. He 
 had certainly commiserated with her over the 
 singularly brutal letters that her husband had 
 written her. Her husband had been a disagreeable 
 invalid, and she had come to India strongly 
 against his will whilst he remained at home. He 
 had sat with her half a dozen times looking at the 
 sunset from Dawson's Tea Gardens through the 
 deodars a remote spot that was pretty solitary, 
 because few of the Simla people knew of its exist- 
 ence. But up to the quite fatal day, he could 
 not recall a single thing that he had " done " 
 not so much as squeezing her hand. And then, 
 suddenly it had happened to be at that damned 
 Dawson's and a sunset under the deodars she 
 had said : 
 
 " When we are married, we will always live in a 
 sunset land." And immediately afterwards she 
 had looked steadily at him and remarked, " My 
 husband cannot live more than three years." 
 
 He could not even accuse himself of having been 
 weak. He was Irish, and polite enough to be 
 perfectly frank. He had said that he simply was 
 not taking any, and that he wanted to marry 
 someone else ; that he did not intend to marry 
 anyone unless he could marry someone else. 
 
 And she had answered : 
 
 " Oh, I know. A girl called Mary Savylle. 
 That was a silly boy and girl affair ! Why, you 
 
THE PANEL 39 
 
 probably would not recognize her if you saw her 
 again." 
 
 He had sworn under his breath at that because it 
 just showed him that in the damned gossiping 
 nest that Simla was, there was not a single blessed 
 thing that they did not find out sooner or later 
 though possibly the only person that would be 
 found to tell it to a man's face was a brazen woman 
 like Mrs. Kerr Howe. Simla itself was damned 
 gossiping, but Damned discreet all the same. 
 That was what made the place so confoundedly 
 snaky and dangerous. Indeed, the very next 
 thing that Mrs. Kerr Howe had said on that 
 occasion had been : 
 
 44 You know, everybody will expect you to 
 marry me as soon as my husband dies. And why 
 shouldn't you ? You can't go on starving as a 
 lower grade officer in India all your life." 
 
 He had been perfectly good-humoured ; he had 
 said simply that he did not deserve the honour. 
 But she had stuck to it ; she was particularly 
 earnest on the point that he would never marry 
 Nancy Savylle, whom he would not know if he 
 met her again. 
 
 It had given him what would have been the 
 lesson of his life if he had been able to learn any 
 lessons. He had gone a thousand miles up country, 
 but Mrs. Kerr's letters pursued him : sometimes 
 they spoke about her blasted reputation ; some- 
 
40 THE PANEL 
 
 times she spoke about her broken heart ; some- 
 times she wrote about the good time she was 
 having in Ceylon, in Rangoon, in California, in 
 the Sierra Nevada. She took a year to get home, 
 and he supposed that she was trying to make him 
 jealous. Sometimes he answered her ; sometimes 
 he did not. He had a lonely life in a hill station ; 
 and sometimes he wrote her chaffy pages for the 
 sheer want of something to do, or the sheer want 
 of keeping in contact with someone who was not 
 buried a thousand miles deep. 
 
 Then, next season, he had come across Flossie 
 Delamare, who had been, as he had said, a half- 
 starved sort of little rat at the time she had been 
 playing French maids in a rotten company that 
 was going round the eastern world, in places like 
 Hong Kong and Tokio in a rotten company in 
 which everyone had seemed to be a hundred and 
 two except Flossie. He had found Flossie receiving 
 attentions from a doubtful sort of Parsee, and he 
 had just sailed in to yank her out of it, as he said. 
 He was not any great social shakes in Simla ; 
 people could get on without him all right, and he 
 was a detrimental even for garrison hacks. But 
 just about then he had a letter from Mrs. Kerr 
 Howe to say, " Your old flame is. marrying a fat 
 old man the Earl of Cumberland," so he just 
 sailed in to give Flossie Delamare who had been 
 a shopgirl from Oxford Street as decent a sort of 
 
THE PANEL 41 
 
 time as he could. Nevertheless, he had told her 
 carefully at the start that there was not to be the 
 least idea of his marrying her ; but he used to take 
 her to Dawson's to tea, and when he felt sick about 
 Nancy Savylle he used to kiss her. And he took 
 her to Swanston pony races and made bets for her 
 that turned out remarkably well, so that she had 
 a good time all the way. And he used to help her 
 rehearsing her little parts, and that was about all 
 there was to it. Then one day in the theatre he 
 had seen a fat old man with a fattish, darkish, 
 pleasant -looking woman by his side. He learned 
 from an attache quite by the grace of God that 
 it was the Earl of Cumberland with his new wife, 
 who had been the Dowager Lady Mary Savylle 
 his own Nancy's aunt ! So that Mrs. Kerr Howe 
 had been lying or very clumsily mistaken. And 
 next day he had packed Flossie back to London 
 with every penny he could scrape up and borrow 
 and a letter to a fat, kind, real actress that he had 
 known before his father broke. She had written 
 to him once or twice to say that she had got 
 " goodish shops," and then he had gone to Somali- 
 land to watch over a well that deposited alkali at 
 the bottom of the corrugated iron cisterns at the 
 rate of three inches a day. But the well had been 
 all -important for the safety of the Empire in that 
 part of the world, and his readiness in watching 
 over jt had caused him to be favourably regarded 
 
42 THE PANEL 
 
 by his immediate superiors ; and in the meantime 
 he had read the extraordinary novels that had, 
 he considered, toughened his brain fibre. But the 
 alkali and the well and the shadelessness and the 
 reading had played the devil with his eyesight, 
 so that when he had passed his really brilliant 
 examination and was really the youngest major 
 in the British Army, the Army doctors just said 
 that he would not be fit for active service any more. 
 
 That had been a confoundedly hard knock. He 
 had come home from the physical examination 
 blundering into the calm of the common room of 
 his Bloomsbury boarding-house, and had just 
 tumbled into an arm-chair in a sort of fit or faint 
 or something. He considered that it was up to him 
 to go on the spree, paint the town red there was 
 nothing else left. After all those years and years 
 there was nothing else left. He could not now go to 
 Nancy Savylle even if she still existed as Nancy 
 Savylle, which he did not know and offer the 
 hand and heart of a damaged major with crocky 
 eyes and the end of the world before him. 
 
 But in that common room of the Bloomsbury 
 boarding-house, when he had come in and collapsed, 
 Miss Olympia Peabody had been sitting. She had 
 got up and approached him with the words : 
 
 " My ! Whatever is the matter with you ? " 
 
 And the major, as soon as he could speak, had 
 looked up at her with the words : 
 
THE PANEL 43 
 
 " I'm just drunk. Couldn't toe a line. Couldn't 
 say the words ' Sixty-six identifications.' Couldn't 
 pass any police tests. Suspected of seeing double. 
 See two of you. Wish there were four." 
 
 Olympia had started back from him, and then 
 she said : 
 
 " But you did say the words sixty-six, and so on." 
 
 He had replied with a sort of hysterical laugh : 
 
 " That was because I wasn't trying. I couldn't 
 do it if I tried 1 " 
 
 And then he just told her all about it. It was 
 the first time in his life that he had not kept up a 
 mystification when he had once begun it. And 
 that first time did for him it engaged him to 
 Olympia Peabody. 
 
 And that, he could not help seeing, had been 
 entirely his own fault. Because he really had 
 flirted with poor Olympia quite outrageously. 
 It had begun by his simply wishing to give 
 her a good time, just as he had tried to do for 
 Flossie. She had seemed to him a lonely, poorish, 
 lost sort of soul in a Bloomsbury boarding-house. 
 He, on the other hand, had appeared to her to be 
 a brilliant lost sheep on the road to perdition. Even 
 on that day she had not been able not to believe 
 that he was drunk. He certainly announced that 
 he was going to paint the town red, so she had 
 insisted on accompanying him to the Empire 
 Theatre of Varieties to see that he did not throw 
 
44 THE PANEL 
 
 four commissionaires down the stairs. He was 
 rather astonished to find that they went there 
 together in an immense motor-car, that apparently 
 belonged to Miss Peabody herself. 
 
 But it was he who took her to the Tower, be- 
 cause the Tower seemed to be the proper place for 
 an American maiden lady. She, on the other hand, 
 suggested that they should explore Whitechapel, 
 and later the opium dens of the docks. He also 
 accompanied her to Wormwood Scrubbs and 
 Borstal Prisons, to which apparently the American 
 Embassy had secured admission. He made a last 
 attempt to keep her to orthodox tourist lines, such 
 as were fitted for maiden ladies from Boston, by 
 taking her to Hampton Court, where he informed 
 her that Lely's Duchess of Portsmouth reminded 
 him of herself. But, except for that remark that 
 had a great deal of success, the day was such a 
 failure that he gave up the tourist ghost. He could 
 not escape from the conviction that Miss Peabody 
 was enormously earnest. 
 
 She was, he discovered, simply here in order that 
 she might study social problems, and more 
 especially that of vice. He discovered also that 
 she was enormously wealthy, that she was the 
 founder of the B.S.S.V., and that if she was in a 
 Bloomsbury boarding-house, it was simply in order 
 to study the serious problems of British vice at 
 close quarters. 
 
THE PANEL 45 
 
 Then he gave her a letter of introduction to his 
 aunt, Mrs. Arthur Foster, his mother's sister, 
 whom he had not seen for ten years because his 
 uncle, Arthur Foster, Esq., a Common Councilman 
 of the City of London, had abused his dead father. 
 The major was, however, really fond of his aunt 
 and was glad of an opportunity to come into 
 contact with her again. It would not have 
 entered his head if, in the long unoccupied 
 hours that he had to get through, he had not 
 read listlessly in a newspaper the item that Mrs. 
 Arthur Foster of The Pines, Hornsey, the President 
 of the N.S.R.S. (The National Society for the 
 Reform of Sin), was giving an afternoon to the 
 members of the N.L.S.R.T. (The North London 
 Society for the Reform of the Theatre). He could 
 not imagine his pleasant, soft old aunt as being 
 connected with either Sin or Theatres ; but he had 
 been ten years out of England, and he recognized 
 that both Sin and Theatres might have changed. 
 
 So he sent Miss Peabody up to his aunt, and 
 the result was that both ladies had been hanging 
 round his neck ever since. Then he had learnt 
 from his aunt that poor Olympia certainly ex- 
 pected him to marry her, because she had saved 
 him from Hell, and he had said she was like the 
 Duchess of Portsmouth. The idea had seemed to 
 him to be ridiculous until he had read in the paper 
 that the heiress and successor to Lord Savylle, of 
 
46 THE PANEL 
 
 Higham, was Mary Savylle. Four at least of her 
 cousins must have died in that ten years, and the 
 title went in tail female. 
 
 That really knocked the bottom out of him, and 
 he had, as he considered it, gone steadily downhill 
 ever since. He had consented to change his name 
 to Brent Foster on the definite condition that he 
 became his uncle's heir, married Miss Peabody, 
 who enjoyed an income of 90,000 dollars (18,000) 
 a year, and settled down as a country gentleman. 
 But he did not care to consider these details of his 
 fall. He was out of conceit with himself and life, 
 and he was going down to re-make the acquaintance 
 of Arthur Foster, Esq., Common Councilman of the 
 City of London, at the country house that he had 
 hired. His aunt had never let him come up to 
 The Pines, Hornsey, because she had the idea that 
 her nephew had led a worldly and glittering life. 
 She thought it would be less of a shock to him to 
 meet his uncle in one of the really stately homes 
 of England. It was called The Manor, Basildon, 
 in Hampshire, and Olympia, who had been down 
 with Mrs. Foster to inspect it, reported that it was 
 chockful of old armour, old contraptions, and 
 secret rooms and Vandyke paintings. But Major 
 Edward Brent Foster did not care a damn. 
 
 He sat opposite Mrs. Kerr Howe and just 
 wondered gloomily what was going to happen. 
 There he was going down to a house with that 
 
THE PANEL 47 
 
 woman and Flossie. And poor dear Olympia 
 was as jealous as they make them, and Heaven 
 knew what racket there would not be. He almost 
 wished that he had not dragged the old gentleman 
 into the carriage. Then he would have been able 
 to have it out with Mrs. Kerr Howe, and to get to 
 know just what she did intend to do about it. 
 The old gentleman was deep in one of seven books, 
 and he was just going to risk things and ask her, 
 when she looked round from the window and, with 
 every sign of exasperation, asked her foot tapping 
 ominously on the floor of the carriage : 
 
 " How in the world could you be such an idiot 
 as not to let Miss Delamare get into this carriage ? " 
 
 The major started back and said : " Well, I 
 thought she'd be in the way considering how 
 things are between us, I thought she would be in 
 the way." 
 
 " How things are between us ? " she asked 
 carelessly. " How are they, I should like to know ?" 
 
 " Well, I certainly thought," the major said, 
 " that you intended to marry me whether I wanted 
 it or no." 
 
 "That's all very well," she said, "that cock 
 isn't going to fight. You aren't going to get out of 
 it in that way. I want to talk to Miss Delamare 
 before she can get to your uncle's. I can settle 
 you afterwards." 
 
 " Oh, no, you don't," the major said, with some 
 
48 THE PANEL 
 
 heat. " I'm not going to have poor Olympia upset. 
 When we meet at my uncle's, we meet as strangers." 
 
 " Oh, no, we don't," she mocked him. " As if I 
 care whether poor Olympia is upset ! " 
 
 " Well, she isn't going to be," the major said, 
 with his most businesslike air. 
 
 " Well, we can't meet as strangers," she still 
 mocked him. " Your aunt thinks I am your oldest 
 friend. That's why she has asked me down to 
 meet you." 
 
 The major exclaimed : 
 
 " My aunt I . . ." with an accent of horror. 
 
 " Yes, Teddy," Mrs. Howe continued, " your 
 dear, good aunt. She wants everybody to be nice 
 and homelike for you. Everybody and everything ! 
 That is why she has taken Basildon Manor. She 
 took no end of trouble to get it to welcome you in." 
 
 The major said blankly : 
 
 " Basildon Manor ? I don't understand ..." 
 
 " Well, it's not my business to give you under- 
 standing," the lady said. " There it is. Your 
 aunt wanted you to be nice and comfy and in the 
 society that you are accustomed to. So she asked 
 me because I told her that I was your oldest 
 friend. And she's told me that she asked Miss 
 Delamare because Miss Delamare said she was your 
 oldest friend too." 
 
 The major said limply : 
 
 " But what an extraordinary idea ! " 
 
THE PANEL 49 
 
 " It's a surprise party," Mrs. Kerr Howe said. 
 
 " It certainly is," the major said. 
 
 " And what I want to know is," the lady con- 
 tinued, " how you could be such an utter oaf as to 
 head Miss Delamare off from me. She is going to 
 sign her contract with your uncle for the New 
 Theatre the moment she gets down. And it's 
 the most important thing in the world for me to get 
 her to promise to put on my play before she signs. 
 Your uncle is opposed to my ideas, and he won't 
 let her do it afterwards. . . . The whole of my 
 future the whole of our future may depend on it. 
 I suppose you don't want to be a beggar, and I 
 lose my husband's fortune on re-marrying." 
 
 " Oh, I shan't be a beggar," the major said ; 
 " Olympiads got eighteen thousand a year." 
 
 " Oh, you're not going to marry Olympia," the 
 lady said ; " that's a silly affair. She's not in the 
 least suited to you. ..." 
 
 The major was just saying : 
 
 " Look here, Juliana, this thing has got to be 
 settled here and now," when a roar that positively 
 reminded him of his first tiger came from the other 
 end of the carriage. Sir Arthur Johnson had 
 sprung to his feet and had flung a blue volume on 
 to the floor. The major saw vaguely that it was the 
 Navy List. 
 
 " The only thing that I can think is that 
 you're drunk, sir. Outrageously drunk I " Sir 
 
50 THE PANEL 
 
 Arthur shouted. His whole face was purple and 
 his whitish blue beard was quivering. He began 
 furiously throwing books into his open kit-bag 
 and missing the opening each time. He gave an 
 idea of violent and stormy motion, for as each 
 book fell on the floor he threw it at the kit-bag 
 again, and the breath came from his nostrils like a 
 tempest. 
 
 The major said : 
 
 " Well, I'll admit we were talking of rather 
 intimate matters. Perhaps we ought not to have 
 been. But, you see, I'm engaged to this very 
 charming lady. It's a painful circumstance, and 
 there's ever so much to talk about." 
 
 The old gentleman became dangerously calm 
 and his eyes glittered. 
 
 " Do you mean to say, sir," he said, " that you 
 accuse me of listening to your filthy and degenerate 
 conversation ? " 
 
 " Well, I don't know what else it could have 
 been," the major said, and he bent humbly to pick 
 up the blue book. But the old man stamped his 
 foot hard upon it and stood like an old sea-lion at 
 bay. 
 
 " No you don't, sir," he hissed. " You shall not 
 destroy the evidence of your guilt. That, sir, is a 
 Navy List." 
 
 The major brought out : 
 
 " A Na . ." And then he said, " Oh ! " 
 
THE PANEL 51 
 
 " Yes, sir, ' oh ! ' " the old man said violently. " A 
 Navy List. In that book there is no such name 
 as that of Sir Arthur Bowles, Rear- Admiral.'* 
 
 " Well, of course, he has been dead two years," 
 the major said mildly. 
 
 " That book, sir," the old gentleman said coldly, 
 " is three years old. Your friend would have been 
 in it if he only died two years ago ! " 
 
 " Well, but he was in the United States Navy ! " 
 the major said. " He was a baronet in his own 
 right, and he deserted to the United States in 1863. 
 He wanted to see service against the South. There 
 wasn't anything discreditable in his desertion." 
 
 " Sir, I have written a history of the war in the 
 United States. I am intimately acquainted with 
 all the circumstances. There was no English 
 baronet of the name of Bowles in the Federal naval 
 service." 
 
 " Well, of course, he changed his name too," the 
 major said, " like me. He did not naturally want 
 it known. Now, would he ? " 
 
 " Sir, this is all a pack of lies," Sir Arthur said. 
 
 ;t Why, so it is," the major said brightly. " But 
 even you will admit that there is such a thing as 
 tact." 
 
 " No, there is no such thing," the president of 
 the Quietist Church exclaimed. " There is the 
 truth. And there are lies. You had better tell the 
 truth or I shall take the proper steps." 
 
52 THE PANEL 
 
 " Well, I've done my best to shield all parties," 
 the major sighed resignedly. " I was only doing 
 my best for poor Olympia. Because I don't want 
 her to think I am not a reformed character. I 
 really am." 
 
 The old gentleman continued standing at one end 
 of the carriage. 
 
 " Come, sir. The truth ! " he exclaimed, and 
 his eyes wandered up to the alarm signal. 
 
 " Well, then, this is the exact truth," the major 
 said. " I am engaged to Miss Peabody of Boston, 
 Massachusetts." 
 
 " A minute ago you said you were engaged to 
 this lady," Sir Arthur convicted him triumphantly. 
 
 " Why, so I did," the major said pleasantly. 
 " But then I was lying. Now I am telling the 
 truth." 
 
 The old gentleman turned upon Mrs. Kerr Howe. 
 " This appears to be a sordid story, madam," he 
 said. " But if the matter should come to a breach 
 of promise trial I am at your disposal as a witness 
 that this person said that he was engaged to you." 
 
 The major said : 
 
 " That's very amiable of you. But you admitted 
 yourself that everything I was saying then was a 
 pack of lies. Those were your exact words. You 
 can't have it both ways." 
 
 And Mrs. Kerr Howe exclaimed : 
 
 " I beg you not to associate me with anything so 
 
THE PANEL 53 
 
 vulgar as a breach of promise case. I have other 
 ways of enforcing my rights. I am not the 
 President of the Society for the Reform of Con- 
 ventional Marriage for nothing. Let me introduce 
 myself. I am Mrs. Kerr Howe, the famous 
 authoress." 
 
 The old gentleman shivered and exclaimed : 
 
 " Infamous ! " 
 
 "The real truth is," the major continued, " that 
 as I am engaged to Olympia I did not wish to travel 
 down alone in a carriage with a much too attractive 
 lady. So I used what was a little subterfuge, I 
 admit, to provide myself with a chaperon. So 
 that's the real truth, and I hope you will admit 
 that it was harmless enough." 
 
 " I don't believe a word of it," Sir Arthur said. 
 
 " I'm not accustomed to being called a liar," the 
 major said angrily. " Damn it, I won't stand that." 
 
 Sir Arthur stretched out his hand to the alarm 
 signal and continued, holding the knob in his hand : 
 
 " Don't you try to threaten me, sir. I recognized 
 you from the first for the coward and hired bully 
 that you are. I daresay that my life is in danger, 
 but I am not to be intimidated. I shall say my 
 say come what will. No one ever said that I was 
 wanting in courage. Let me tell you that I 
 recognized your type from the first." 
 
 He paused and pointed an accusing finger at the 
 major. 
 
54 THE PANEL 
 
 " You, sir," he hissed, " are a military character. 
 You, madam, are an immoral authoress pandering 
 to the cryptic and morbid tastes of the day. I 
 quite understand that you have joined causes in 
 this monstrous outrage on myself." He breathed 
 deeply and continued : " You entice me into this 
 carriage. I am willing to give you the excuse that 
 you are both drunk. I am willing even to admit 
 that you do not mean to rob me or even to assault 
 me. You may want no more than to gloat in some 
 low pot-house with your boon companions over the 
 low trick that you have played on me. I can quite 
 see that your infamous causes of prize-fighter and 
 panderer to the filthy tastes of the day would not be 
 advanced by the report that you had assaulted an 
 old man a feeble nonagenarian like myself. ..." 
 
 " You're quite sure that you are talking about 
 us ? " the major asked. " It's certainly more 
 confusing than reading Henry James. It really 
 
 is." 
 
 The old gentleman really screamed : 
 
 " Stop, sir ! " he shouted. " If you think that it 
 is humorous to force upon my attention the name 
 of another of your filthy young writers ..." 
 
 " Young ! " the major exclaimed in a puzzled 
 manner. " I thought he was quite old. A classic ! " 
 
 " Sacred shade of Byron ! " Sir Arthur exclaimed. 
 " And you too, sacred name of Walter Scott, that 
 I knew in my childhood ! Where are Thackeray 
 
THE PANEL 55 
 
 and Tennyson, and my good old friend Lewis 
 Morris ! That I should have lived ninety years in 
 the land to hear these lewd striplings applauded 
 as classics ! " 
 
 " But you can't call that writer a stripling," 
 the major said. " You could run him three times 
 round a mile course yourself, I would not mind 
 betting." 
 
 " I do call that writer a stripling ! " the old 
 man said fiercely. " I do. A purveyor of cryptic 
 and morbid vileness ! " 
 
 " Now come," the major said, " I don't believe 
 you have read a word that was written since 
 Macaulay died." 
 
 *' I haven't, sir," Sir Arthur exclaimed fiercely. 
 " Not a word. All my efforts since then have been 
 confined to damming up the foul tricklings of that 
 morbid stream. And let me tell you, sir, prize- 
 fighter that you are, I should never have lived 
 to this splendid and green old age if I had so 
 befouled my mind." 
 
 " I don't see why you call me a prize-fighter," 
 the major said. " Of course it makes things much 
 more amusing. But it's odd ! " 
 
 " Of course you are a prize-fighter ! " Sir 
 Arthur exclaimed. " What else should you be ? 
 Is it not inevitable and demonstrable ! You are 
 a military person and you outrage me and you 
 talk of meretricious and obscene tales by young 
 
56 THE PANEL 
 
 writers and you join in your insult to me with the 
 most meretricious female writer that I have ever 
 heard of so of course I join you with prize- 
 fighters. I do not mean that you have muscle 
 and nerve to stand up against a trained man with 
 your fists. Your unclean living has probably 
 deprived you of those attributes of a man 
 physical courage and nerves. But you are one 
 of those persons who organize the disgusting ex- 
 hibitions in which the degenerate descendants of 
 the most infamous type of gladiators ..." 
 
 " I ! Organize a prize-fight ! " the major ex- 
 claimed. " My God ! " 
 
 " That is what you do ! " Sir Arthur said. 
 
 And suddenly Mrs. Kerr Howe cried out : 
 
 " The rude old man thinks that you are one 
 of the promoters of the Military Boxing Displays 
 that a lot of silly parsons got stopped ! " 
 
 " I certainly," Sir Arthur said, " used all my 
 influence as head of the Quietist Church to get 
 those infamous displays suppressed that and my 
 efforts to drive foul literature off the bookstalls. ..." 
 
 " Oh, of course," Mrs. Kerr Howe said. " You 
 are one of the old Pharisees in fig-leaves who tried 
 to get up the boycott of my books. I thought I 
 knew your name ! " 
 
 " Knew my name ! " Sir Arthur suddenly 
 foamed. " This to me the author of Economic 
 Ethics and the Modern State ! To me, whom the 
 
THE PANEL 57 
 
 most eminent statesmen of the nineteenth century 
 were proud to be privileged to consult. To ME ! " 
 He choked and once more began to cram his 
 books into his kit-bag. And then he suddenly 
 threw the bag out of the window and pulled the 
 alarm cord. "To me ! " he said. " Just Gods ! 
 that my only title to fame in this degenerate 
 day should be that I stopped a prize-fight and 
 attempted to cleanse the world of filthy books." 
 
 His fury was so terrific that both the major and 
 Mrs. Kerr Howe cowered in their corners whilst 
 he stamped up and down from end to end of the 
 carriage. The train slowed, jolted, ground along 
 the rails and then came to a stop just at a little 
 roadside station. Sir Arthur sprang out and, 
 stamping on the platform, began to shout for the 
 guard. The guard came running up. 
 
 " I shall see if the laws of my country will not 
 protect me from such Yahoos," Sir Arthur hissed 
 back at the carriage. Then he called out : " Guard, 
 arrest these people for drunkenness, the use of 
 obscene language and assault." 
 
 The guard said : 
 
 " There, there, Sir Arthur, you know perfectly 
 well I haven't got the power to arrest anybody. 
 You've got to issue a summons, as you usually do." 
 
 " Find me an empty first-class carriage," Sir 
 Arthur exclaimed majestically, and he began to 
 stalk off up the platform. 
 
58 THE PANEL 
 
 The major came to the door of the carriage 
 
 " You'd better," he said to the guard, " smell 
 my breath and hear if I can say ' sixty-six inci- 
 dentals/ " 
 
 The guard said : 
 
 " Oh, that's all right, sir. Very fiery old gentle- 
 man, Sir Arthur. This is the third time he stopped 
 the 6.48 this year." And he shut the door and 
 went up the platform after Sir Arthur. 
 
 The engine-driver having stopped the train at 
 a station instead of in the open country, none of 
 the passengers had paid any particular attention 
 to the stoppage, except Miss Flossie Delamare, 
 who came to her window and, leaning out, kissed 
 her hand to the major. He drew his own head in 
 precipitately. For, just as before he had been 
 anxious to be protected from a scene with Mrs. 
 Kerr Howe, now, upon reconsideration, he was 
 anxious for an explanation with her. He wanted 
 to get perfectly settled what she was going to be 
 up to before he got down to his uncle's. 
 
 He pulled up the window and was about to sit 
 down opposite Mrs. Kerr Howe. 
 
 " This appears to me," Mrs. Kerr Howe said, 
 "to be an excellent opportunity for me to have 
 some conversation with Miss Delamare about my 
 play," and she rose to her feet. 
 
 " Oh, come," the major said, " that can wait. 
 We've got to settle about our relationships." 
 
THE PANEL 59 
 
 "They're settled already," that lady said. 
 " But of course we must have a talk about them 
 before the day is done," and vigorously she 
 pushed past him towards the door. He caught 
 hold of her wrist. 
 
 " Look here, Juliana," he said, " I can't go 
 having Ute-d-Utes with you in my uncle's house." 
 
 " It would upset Olympia? " she asked amiably. 
 
 " It would upset the whole blooming lot," the 
 major said. " My uncle, my aunt, Olympia, me 
 everybody." 
 
 She slipped her hand neatly out of his fingers. 
 " Oh, would it ? " she said. " Well, I'm afraid 
 they are going to be upset," and she was gone out 
 of the carriage. 
 
 She got hold of a sleepy porter who had 
 been awakened from a nap by the unaccustomed 
 stopping of the mail, and in a minute she had got 
 her dressing-bag and her jewel-case out of the 
 major's carriage and into Miss Delamare's. From 
 the door the major could perceive Sir Arthur 
 foaming down the platform like a great white 
 wave. And the major had to do a lot of rapid 
 reflection. In the first place, he knew perfectly 
 well that it would not be the least use getting in 
 with Flossie and Mrs. Kerr Howe. Mrs. Kerr Howe 
 would be talking about her play the whole way 
 down, and that would bore him to extinction. On 
 the other hand, if he didn't get into the same 
 
60 THE PANEL 
 
 carriage to check them they would almost cer- 
 tainly compare notes as to his past career, and 
 he didn't know that he wanted that. He had, 
 of course, to think of poor Olympia's feelings as 
 much as possible, and he was convinced that Mrs. 
 Kerr Howe would do all that she possibly could 
 to give poor Olympia a lively time. His uncer- 
 tainty, however, was cut short by the guard, who 
 came running up to beg him to get into the other 
 carriage with his other lady friends, so as to leave 
 Sir Arthur an empty first. And the major, with 
 a good-tempered " Oh, well," got himself out of 
 his own carriage and into the next. He was just 
 saying cheerfully to Flossie Delamare, " You 
 wicked, abandoned little wretch," when Sir 
 Arthur, his eyes blazing, his beard working con- 
 vulsively, thrust his head in at the window and 
 shouted : 
 
 " You wicked, abandoned wretch. Don't think 
 to escape me in this way. You hired bully, you 
 atrocious, drunken sot with your abandoned 
 female companions, the moment I get to my 
 destination I shall issue a summons against you 
 for drunkenness, assault, and the use of obscene 
 language." His head disappeared like that of a 
 Jack-in-the-box, leaving the guard visible behind 
 him. 
 
 " Do you suppose he'll take out a summons 
 against me ? " the major asked. 
 
THE PANEL 61 
 
 " He'll certainly issue it himself," the guard said. 
 " He's one of these liberal J.P.'s precious fond 
 of issuing summonses." The guard disappeared. 
 
 " Drunkenness ! Assault ! The use of obscene 
 language ! " Miss Flossie Delamare laughed. 
 " That'll make a pretty lively time for poor 
 Olympia when the summons comes on." 
 
 The major said, "Oh, rot ! " and then he hurriedly 
 began to talk to her in the hope of heading off Mrs. 
 Kerr Howe. 
 
 " You wicked, abandoned little wretch," he 
 said, " what do you mean by not telling me you 
 were going down to my aunt's ? What do you 
 mean by telling my aunt that you were one of 
 my best friends ? " 
 
 " Oh well, Teddy," Miss Delamare said, " if 
 it comes to good wishes, I am sure I'm the best 
 friend you've got in the world. And as for taking 
 you in ... why, you're such a precious hand 
 at mystification yourself that it's a fine old tempta- 
 tion to score off you sometimes." 
 
 " But hang it all," the major said, " you did 
 it so confoundedly well. When you talked about 
 parting for ever there were tears in your eyes." 
 
 " Oh well, Teddy," Miss Delamare said, with a 
 little hurt air, " you seem to forget sometimes that 
 I am an actress." 
 
 Mrs. Kerr Howe suddenly cut in with what ap- 
 peared to be a victorious snicker : 
 
62 THE PANEL 
 
 " Your half-brother," she said, " has been telling 
 me the most romantic story about your relation- 
 ships." 
 
 Miss Delamare exclaimed : 
 
 " My half-brother ! " and then she looked at 
 the major and got from his face one of her brilliant 
 inspirations. 
 
 " Oh, Teddy you mean ! " she said. " I thought 
 you meant that old gentleman who might have been 
 an uncle to me. Well, I hope Teddy hasn't been 
 saying things against me behind my back." 
 
 And the major sank down into his corner with 
 a sigh of deep relief. He couldn't now have any 
 doubt that Flossie Delamare wouldn't give Mrs. 
 Kerr Howe any kind of a handle against him, and 
 he just said : 
 
 " The times we've seen ! " 
 
 " Yes, the times we've seen, Teddy ! " Miss 
 Delamare said with a little regretful sigh, and 
 then, immediately afterwards, Mrs. Kerr Howe 
 was all over her like a wave with her projects for 
 the New Theatre. The major never got another 
 word in. Mrs. Kerr Howe explained the plot of 
 her play. She dilated on the high-mindedness of 
 all the characters except the villain. She explained 
 how the play would help on the reform of conven- 
 tional marriage. The major never got a word in, 
 and at last he took from the pocket of his rain- 
 proof coat a volume called The Sacred Fount, and 
 
THE PANEL 63 
 
 began to puzzle over its contents. The Westing- 
 house brake, which had been strained by the 
 sudden stopping of the train, burst about a quarter 
 of an hour later, and by the time the train had 
 slowed down a little, one of the carriages about 
 three ahead of them took it into its head to run off 
 the line. It was nothing like a serious accident, 
 but it jolted them a good deal. But Mrs. Kerr 
 Howe talked on steadily about her play, and al- 
 though it was a quarter to eleven before they 
 reached Basildon Manor she was still talking 
 about it. 
 
Ill 
 
 1%/TRS. ARTHUR FOSTER Major Brent 
 -LJ- Foster's aunt was anxiously seeing to the 
 warmth of his bedroom in Basildon Manor at about 
 half-past ten that night. It is true that it was nearly 
 June, but she was convinced that, after many years 
 in one tropic and another, he would find it cool 
 enough. A fire burned in the grate ; there was a 
 hot bottle in the immense and shadowy four-post 
 bed. And all the room wavered between shadowi- 
 ness and warmth. The fireplace was as large as 
 a London pantry ; the dogs on the hearth were as 
 large as a London umbrella stand ; the burning 
 logs were as big as Mrs. Foster's husband's portman- 
 teau ; the velvet curtained bed was as big as she 
 imagined desert islands to be, and the immense 
 picture of Ancestors that faced the foot of the bed 
 was at least as large as the immense folding-doors 
 between the front and rear dining-rooms of The 
 Pines, Hornsey. And Mrs. Arthur Foster was a 
 little afraid of this picture " the Panel," her 
 Ladyship's Own Maid called it. It represented 
 three fierce men in broad-brimmed and plumed 
 hats ; three ladies in velvet, pearls, low necks and 
 
 64 
 
THE PANEL 65 
 
 fringes ; one little boy with long curls and a slouch 
 hat ; three little girls in low necks, one of whom 
 held a parrot, another a monkey, and the third 
 attended on by a greyhound. A baby, also in a low- 
 necked dress, sprawled on the ground in the attempt 
 to reach a parti-coloured ball. All these people 
 were represented as standing in the open air, in a 
 group like a wall, as people stand nowadays to be 
 photographed, and, with the exception of the baby, 
 gazed fiercely, mildly, or with unseeing glances at 
 Mrs. Arthur Fotser. 
 
 Having done all she could for the major's room 
 she had to pause and look round, and those eyes 
 irresistibly drew her glance. She really shivered, 
 and then she said to her Ladyship's Own Maid : 
 . " Dear me, Miss Nancy Jenkins, my dear, 
 wouldn't you say they were asking me how I dared 
 to be in their room ? " 
 
 " No, I shouldn't, ma'am," her Ladyship's Own 
 Maid replied ; " you're nothing to the people they 
 did see in their own rooms when they were alive." 
 
 " No, poor dears, I daresay not," Mrs. Foster 
 said. " And I daresay they'd know how respectful 
 and how like an intruder I feel." 
 
 " Now you needn't, ma'am," Miss Nancy Jenkins 
 said kindly. " I'm sure the last thing her Ladyship 
 would want you to feel is anything but entirely at 
 home. Her Ladyship begged me to make you and 
 Major Brent feel absolutely and entirely as if the 
 
66 THE PANEL 
 
 place belonged to you. Her Ladyship begged me 
 particularly to ask you to remember, if there isn't 
 any other way of making you see it, that if it 
 wasn't for your taking the place in the summer 
 she could not afford to live in it for the spring 
 and autumn. She would have to sell it and all 
 the dear old things." 
 
 Mrs. Foster looked timidly at her Ladyship's 
 Own Maid. 
 
 " Dear me, Miss Nancy Jenkins," she said, " did 
 her Ladyship really ask you to say that ? " 
 
 " It's what her Ladyship particularly wishes you 
 to understand," the maid answered. " Particularly. 
 More than anything else. She loves the old things, 
 and she wants them to make people happy." 
 
 " I feel afraid of them really," Mrs. Foster said. 
 " I would not like people to know it. But they're all 
 so old and so stern and so precious that sometimes 
 I'm afraid to turn round for fear of breaking them. 
 And sometimes oh ! I really wish I was back in 
 my own drawing-room at Hornsey, where there's 
 nothing really valuable except the Berlin wool-work 
 screen that was worked by the Princess Alice's 
 own hands for the Great Exhibition of '52." She 
 stopped and looked almost lovingly at her Lady- 
 ship's Own Maid. 
 
 Miss Jenkins smoothed her black alpaca apron. 
 
 " I'm afraid,"she said, " that it's her Ladyship's 
 leaving me that has given you that sort of idea," 
 
THE PANEL 67 
 
 she said. " But, indeed, madam, that was not 
 meant as a ... as a precaution against yourself. 
 The best of people have now and then a servant 
 that's a breaker, and her Ladyship values every 
 stick of her house as if it were one of her little 
 fingers." She stopped, and then added : " But 
 rather than take away from your satisfaction, 
 rather than you should feel that you are being 
 watched upon, I'm perfectly certain that her 
 Ladyship would prefer me to go to-night." 
 
 " Oh, but my dear, my dear Miss Nancy Jenkins," 
 Mrs. Foster exclaimed on a note of almost painful 
 anxiety, and then she stopped distractedly. 
 " You're perfectly certain" she asked, " that those 
 cigars are the sort of cigars the major will like ? " 
 
 " Well, you never can be quite certain what a 
 gentleman will like, ma'am," Miss Jenkins 
 answered ; " but you can be perfectly certain that 
 they're not the kind of cigars that you need be 
 ashamed of, and that's the important point. 
 They're the sort that her Ladyship always has in 
 the house for her gentlemen friends. And they're 
 the sort that Captain Brent used always to smoke 
 at Holbury before he went away. Of course, 
 there's no saying that his tastes may have changed." 
 
 " Then there you are, Miss Nancy," Mrs. Foster 
 said triumphantly. " How could I get on in this 
 great ugly old house if I hadn't you to back me up ? 
 What do I know about gentlemen's tastes ? Of 
 
68 THE PANEL 
 
 course there's Mr. Foster he's a true gentleman ; 
 but of course he's not a real gentleman. I mean 
 not a manly gentleman like the major." 
 
 " Well, of course, you couldn't have everyone 
 in the world like the major," Miss Jenkins said, 
 " or there wouldn't be room to hold us." 
 
 Mrs. Foster's eyes wandered abstractedly to the 
 panel. 
 
 " Now, who did you say all those angry -looking 
 people were ? " she asked. " You've told me once, 
 but I've forgotten. And it would be too silly not 
 to be able to tell the major anything about any- 
 thing." Miss Jenkins pointed to the tallest of the 
 three men in slouch hats. 
 
 " That was the fourth earl," she said succinctly. 
 " Fell at Naseby four years after the picture was 
 painted. The two elder sons, Lord Edward, 
 afterwards fifth earl, and Lord Charles fell at the 
 battle of the Boyne. The baby on the ground, 
 Lord James, afterwards sixth earl, was attaindered 
 after the battle in which he took part. The baby's 
 son, Lord William, was restored to the Barony 
 of Higham, but not the earldom, upon his 
 reconciliation with Queen Anne. He was known as 
 ' Wild Higham,' because there was nothing that he 
 would stick at. His portrait is in the long dining- 
 room : said to bear a strong resemblance to her 
 Ladyship." 
 
 " That's what I can't bear," Mrs. Foster said, 
 
THE PANEL 69 
 
 with deep feeling. " Wherever I go all over the 
 house they're all, all of them, always looking at me, 
 and they're all alike. And the wife of the eldest 
 son always has that same pearl necklace on, and 
 they all, you feel, all of them, stick at nothing." 
 
 " That's so, ma'am," Miss Nancy Jenkins said. 
 " There's not one of them that ever would. Never 
 stick at anything once it came into their heads the 
 Wild Highams wouldn't." 
 
 44 Now I don't know how I feel about that, Miss 
 Nancy," Mrs. Foster said. " Everything's always 
 so difficult to get at. In the first place, on principle, 
 I oughtn't to approve of people who don't care 
 what they do. But then I can't help saying that 
 there was my brother-in-law, Admiral Brent, the 
 major's father he stuck at nothing, as you put it, 
 and I always used to think he was the finest man I 
 ever met, though of course I shouldn't like Mr. 
 Foster to hear me talking like that. Not that he's 
 jealous, but he strongly disapproved of everything 
 the admiral did. But he was a fine man, though 
 what with not paying attention to Mr. Foster's 
 advice about his speculations, and what with high 
 living and throwing his money out of the window, 
 and charities he couldn't afford and all the rest of 
 it he took a racehorse full gallop down some cliffs 
 in India, where they say only ponies went, for a 
 bet. And he won the bet. But he died three weeks 
 after my poor sister Edward's mother and he 
 
70 THE PANEL 
 
 didn't leave behind him any money, but eleven 
 hundred and sixty-two pounds' worth of debt which 
 I paid out of my own jointure, for the sake of the 
 name. Though that made Mr. Foster furiously 
 angry, for he said, what was the name of a dissolute 
 scoundrel to him. And poor dear Edward the 
 major paid the money back out of his salary I 
 mean his pay, because, of course, you ought not to 
 talk of what an officer gets as a salary. But he did 
 his best, poor dear, having put aside fifty pounds 
 a year, which was paid me regularly by the pay- 
 master of the War Office when he was only a 
 captain, and then advancing it to seventy-five 
 pounds a year when he was on active service, when, 
 of course, they get more, as you doubtless know. 
 So that at the present moment he only owes me 
 433 13s. 4d. with interest. And that was what 
 all the trouble was about," Mrs. Foster ended 
 suddenly. 
 
 " I don't see about what, ma'am," Miss Nancy 
 Jenkins said, " or what the trouble was." 
 
 " The trouble was," Mrs. Foster said, " that he 
 blacked his uncle's eye. Because, of course, Mr. 
 Foster, who's the kindest and best gentleman in 
 the world, but a little wanting in tact where his 
 brother-in-law the admiral was concerned Mr. 
 Foster was much more outrageous when Captain 
 Edward started to pay the money back than he 
 was with me for having paid it out he said that I 
 
THE PANEL 71 
 
 wasn't to take money from the pauper son of a 
 bankrupt swindler. But I said, no, let the boy do 
 his duty to his father's memory ! It was right and 
 proper, and it showed a good spirit. Not of course 
 that I was going to take the money, for God knows 
 there isn't a thing I wouldn't give the boy, even 
 down to the gold and the false teeth out of my 
 head, though, of course, that's not a thing I ought 
 to say, but it's perfectly true. And then, there 
 came that awful trouble, and I never saw my 
 Edward again for ten years." Mrs. Foster broke 
 off and remarked innocently, " Why, you're crying, 
 Miss Nancy ! " 
 
 " You're crying yourself, ma'am," Miss Nancy 
 said sharply. 
 
 " And well I may be," Mrs. Foster said, " con- 
 sidering the difference there is in the poor boy." 
 
 " Oh, don't say that, ma'am," Miss Jenkins said. 
 
 " But it's true," Mrs. Foster maintained. " There 
 was a time when you could say he didn't care what 
 he did, like those people there," and she pointed to 
 the panel. " Now, you can say he doesn't care 
 what he does just because he doesn't care what 
 becomes of him. There's no spirit left in him." 
 
 Miss Jenkins said, " Oh dear ! Oh dear ! " with 
 so much real concern, that Mrs. Foster was heart- 
 ened to continue talking about her nephew ; for, 
 as a rule, she was too much afraid of boring Miss 
 Jenkins to talk for long about any one subject. 
 
72 THE PANEL 
 
 And as, indeed, she was afraid of boring everybody, 
 her conversation was usually extremely disjointed. 
 
 Mrs. Foster was the daughter of a Portsmouth 
 ship-chandler in very good circumstances, and it 
 was characteristic of Edward Brent's father the 
 gentleman who stuck at nothing that he should 
 just have sailed in and married her sister, who was 
 a handsome, flashing woman. He was at the time 
 a penniless Irish naval lieutenant. It was not 
 until many years later that Mrs. Foster married 
 Mr. Arthur Foster, at that time a West End baker 
 with five flourishing businesses. It was character- 
 istic of Mr. Arthur Foster that he should have 
 enquired carefully how much money the ship- 
 chandler's daughter had to her account before he 
 proposed to her. And, with her money, he had 
 been able to turn his business into a limited 
 company, which had twenty-three branches in 
 London and over a hundred in various cities of the 
 United Kingdom and the colonies. So that, until 
 lately, Mr. Arthur Foster had been able to boast 
 himself the largest wholesale baker in the world. 
 Latterly, however, he had come to talk less of 
 being a baker and more of the fact that he was a 
 Common Councilman of the City of London. He 
 even had a hope of an Aldermanship nay, in his 
 dreams he even passed the Chair. 
 
 The lieutenant later the admiral quarrelled 
 most ferociously with his wife whenever he was at 
 
THE PANEL 73 
 
 home. There never, Mr. Foster was accustomed 
 to say, were such scenes. Nevertheless, to the 
 long unmarried sister, Captain Brent had always 
 been held up as the very model of manly virtues 
 as long as he was at sea. His rapid promotion, his 
 quite splendid service in Western Chinese waters, 
 and the extraordinary facility in slinging out oaths, 
 caused him to be, for the unmarried sister, a sort of 
 splendid terror. And this made her husband 
 the respectable and wealthy Baptist detest the 
 admiral even more than he would otherwise have 
 done. 
 
 Thus, when the admiral died in debt and Mrs. 
 Foster had paid it off, and Captain Edward 
 announced his intention of paying his aunt back, 
 Mr. Arthur Foster really had called the captain 
 " the pauper son of a bankrupt swindler " to the 
 captain's face. Mr. Arthur Foster had particular 
 reason to be cock-a-hoop that day, for he had just 
 made arrangements for the opening of the last 
 fifty of his bakers' shops in Australasia. He had 
 never been bigger than his boots before, for he had 
 always been a rather timid person. And he cer- 
 tainly never was again, for when the captain 
 knocked him down he got such a shock, that, for 
 the rest of his life, he was humble even to the 
 pay-check girls in the glass cases in his shops. He 
 was simply afraid of getting a harsh word addressed 
 to him by anybody. 
 
74 THE PANEL 
 
 But Captain Brent had simply disappeared. He 
 had gone right straight out to India, and they had 
 never heard another word from him. Not a single 
 word ! His father, the admiral, had really spoiled 
 him in no ordinary manner had never grudged him 
 a penny, and had never suggested that he was not 
 to live up to ten thousand a year for the rest of his 
 life. And, since Captain Brent had been gay, 
 reckless, and always in a good humour, he had 
 lived like a fighting-cock in the best of society. 
 
 It was characteristic of him, however, that he 
 had not made a good match, but had fallen head 
 over heels in love at last with a Miss Mary Savylle, 
 whom he met during a three weeks' stay at the 
 Duke of Cumberland's at Thorbury. Miss Savylle 
 had been a dare-devil young lady, without a penny 
 to her name, though her granduncle, Lord Savylle 
 of Higham, allowed her four hundred pounds a 
 year, and she spent her life travelling with a 
 maid from country-house to country-house." 
 
 Miss Savylle had appealed to him, because she 
 was simply the only girl he had ever met who 
 didn't care what she did. She didn't care a rap. 
 She contradicted the Bishop of Liverpool at table 
 when he said that her bulldog had not got a soul, 
 and she put on the old duke's favourite old boots 
 over her slippers when she wanted to run over the 
 wet lawn one early morning, because she had thrown 
 her hair-brush out of the window at a terrier that 
 
THE PANEL 75 
 
 was chasing a cat. The duke had had his favourite 
 boots for fourteen years Wellingtons they were 
 and he put them on every hunting morning. So that 
 the valet turned green when Miss Savylle rushed 
 from her bedroom in her wrapper and slippers, 
 and, tearing the boots from his hands, pulled them 
 suddenly on and streamed out of the front door. 
 The terrier was still worrying the cat, and Miss 
 Savylle got slightly scratched and badly bitten in 
 separating them. There was even blood upon the 
 sacrosanct boots. But the duke hardly even grum- 
 bled, which was a thing unheard of in Thorbury. 
 
 That afternoon the captain declared his love to 
 Miss Savylle, and that night he had had a telegram 
 to say that his mother was dead. Three weeks 
 later his father had died of having nobody to 
 quarrel with. Captain Edward had found himself 
 worse than penniless, and they had just had to 
 part. For Lord Savylle of Higham threatened to 
 cut off his great-niece's allowance of four hundred 
 a year if she thought of marrying a man who 
 hadn't at least that much above his captain's pay. 
 Captain Edward had indeed gone up to The Pines, 
 Hornsey, definitely intending to ask his aunt to 
 settle four hundred pounds a year on Mary Savylle. 
 His aunt had neither chick nor child ; she had 
 always told him to regard himself as her heir, and 
 he would not have had any compunction in asking 
 her. Unfortunately, his aunt had been out, and 
 
76 THE PANEL 
 
 he had come upon his uncle in a cock-a-hoop mood, 
 and angry because Mrs. Foster had paid the 
 father's debts. Thus, the frightful row had arisen ; 
 the captain had felt forced to pay his aunt back ; 
 the Common Councilman had a very black eye, 
 which kept him away from business for the best part 
 of a fortnight, and Captain Foster found himself, 
 not four hundred pounds a year richer, but fifty 
 pounds a year poorer. 
 
 " Oh, Miss Jenkins," Mrs. Foster said, " he went 
 away without a word from me, and although I 
 made Mr. Foster write letter after letter of apology 
 which does not say that Mr. Foster had much 
 spirit, though it shows he had a kind heart and 
 a conscience Captain Edward always sent the 
 letters back unopened. And I've heard that he 
 has had a very bad time, working terribly hard. 
 And now he's come back, and his eyes have failed, 
 and he can't go on active service any more. And 
 he had to change his name which was a good 
 honourable name, and it seems a shame. But I 
 was quite firm about it, for I said though Mr. 
 Foster wasn't himself so set upon it but I said, 
 ' justice is justice/ and if the boy is to inherit 
 his uncle's money, it is only just that he should 
 spend it in the name of the man that made it, and 
 he's going to marry a terrible woman." 
 
 Miss Jenkins asked : " Don't you like Miss 
 Peabody, ma'am?" 
 
THE PANEL 77 
 
 " No, I don't," Mrs. Foster exclaimed, with a 
 sudden vehemence. " I don't believe I ever 
 disliked anybody else in my life except a man cook 
 we once had." 
 
 " I don't believe you ever did dislike anybody, 
 ma'am," Miss Jenkins said. 
 
 "But I dislike Miss Peabody," Mrs. Foster said. 
 " Before she got the major she was quite different, 
 you would have said that butter wouldn't melt in 
 her mouth. And I did my very best to bring the 
 match off, because I thought she would save the 
 major from the road to ruin. But now she's got him 
 she's perfectly different. Why, she might be that 
 odious man cook, with her impertinence and her 
 offish ways. I know I'm a stupid woman, but it's 
 no one's business to tell me so all day long. And 
 the eyes she makes at Mr. Foster, and the com- 
 pliments he pays her on her ability. And to tell the 
 truth, she's a great deal more fitted for Mr. Foster 
 than the major they're more of an age, anyhow. 
 I tell you what it is, Miss Nancy" and Mrs. 
 Foster's eyes became almost shining with rage 
 " I'd give almost any woman four hundred a year 
 I'd give it to Miss Delamare or Mrs. Kerr Howe, 
 or I'd give it to you for the matter of that if you 
 would get the major away from that woman. You 
 couldn't do it, of course, because the major is so 
 set on his duty. And he considers it is his duty 
 to marry that odious old maid. Why, her teeth 
 
78 THE PANEL 
 
 aren't even her own. But you couldn't get him 
 away." 
 
 " I don't know about that," said Miss Jenkins, 
 and she smoothed down her apron. "But upon my 
 word, ma'am, it's rather a wicked suggestion." 
 
 " I don't see it's a wicked suggestion," Mrs. 
 Foster said. " I've got to think of my poor 
 nephew's happiness. Now, Miss Delamare is a dear 
 little thing, and I've often felt I should like to adopt 
 her as a daughter. And Mrs. Kerr Howe isn't so 
 nice, but she'd make the major an intellectual 
 companion. And as for you, Miss Nancy, I like 
 you the best of them all, for, though I've only 
 known you for the three days we've been down 
 here getting ready, I feel that you are quite one 
 of the family though of course your family is not 
 as good as his. But his father married below him, 
 marrying my sister ; and though they did quarrel 
 like cat and dog, it was one of the happiest marri- 
 ages I have ever known, and they died within three 
 weeks of each other." 
 
 Miss Jenkins pushed her hands into the pockets 
 of her alpaca apron. 
 
 "You can't be quite in earnest, ma'am," she 
 said. 
 
 Mrs. Foster answered quaintly : "I don't know 
 that I should be so in earnest if it was possible to 
 happen, but as it is, I'm in deadly earnest. I'd 
 rather see the major married to you than to that 
 
THE PANEL 79 
 
 odious woman, with her odious lap-dog. Even the 
 lap-dog himself hates her. But you couldn't get 
 him away from her. Nobody could. He's a gentle- 
 man, and he's passed his word to marry the lady." 
 
 " But don't you think," Miss Jenkins said, " that 
 the lady might be got to throw the gentleman 
 over?" 
 
 " Never ! " Mrs. Foster exclaimed, " never, 
 while there is a sun in the sky, or a railway from 
 Hornsey to the City, which is almost the same 
 thing." 
 
 And then she added with singular vivacity: 
 " Do you say that's wicked, Miss Nancy ? Well, 
 then it's just got to be wicked. I've never done 
 anything wicked in my life, and I'd often wanted 
 to know what it would feel like. And if I'm doing 
 something wicked now, it feels very good that's 
 what it feels. And I don't wonder at people going 
 on being wicked." 
 
 They heard at that time distinctly a voice say- 
 ing, " Hallo, aunt ! " from the stairs. 
 
 Mrs. Foster exclaimed, " That's the major ! " and 
 positively she turned pale. She ran out in the 
 passage and, coming back with the major following 
 her, she burst out : " I do hope you find everything 
 you want, Edward. Miss Jenkins, here ..." 
 
 But Miss Jenkins was not in the room, although, 
 as far as Mrs. Foster could remember, she had not 
 passed them on the staircase 
 
80 THE PANEL 
 
 The major, who, being an Irishman, knew 
 exactly how to please all women, took a long look 
 round the bedroom. 
 
 " Well, it's a jolly old room," he said, " and large 
 enough for the officers of a whole regiment to sleep 
 in. And that's what I like." And he added cheer- 
 fully, " Any ghosts about ? " Mrs. Foster said : 
 
 " You know your uncle and I don't hold with 
 ghosts. It's not a modern belief at all." 
 
 " Well, well ! " the major said cheerfully. " I 
 guess you can't hold with them when they come 
 whether you ask them or not." Mrs. Foster's old 
 butler was bringing in the major's things one by 
 one. Mrs. Foster shivered a little. 
 
 " Oh, dear Brent I " she said " I'm going to call 
 you Brent, instead of Edward, so as to keep you in 
 remembrance of the name you changed. But oh, 
 my dear Brent, don't talk to me about ghosts and 
 things. It makes me nervous in this queer old 
 house. Your uncle doesn't hold with ghosts, but I 
 know he's nervous, walking about the dark corridor. 
 It's only Olympia who keeps us all in our places." 
 
 The major said : " Oh, poor Olympia ! How's 
 her dog ? " 
 
 Mrs. Foster stiffened in the very slightest. " I 
 am bound to say," she exclaimed, " that her dog 
 is a very troublesome little animal. It snaps at 
 everybody in the house, even your uncle." 
 
 " And the funny thing is," the major said, " that 
 
THE PANEL 81 
 
 the little beast has taken such a fancy to me. Of 
 course, I bought it for her, but that isn't a 
 reason why it should love me, and not her. When 
 I saw it in the shop in Seven Dials, it seemed to 
 me exactly the sort of animal to be the proper 
 protector for a maiden lady I mean, of course, 
 before I had any idea of marrying Olympia." 
 
 " So you gave it to her," the aunt asked, " before 
 you were engaged ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes," the major said innocently. " That 
 was what gave her the idea, when she saw that the 
 little beast was always running after me. She 
 said that she knew I couldn't be wholly bad." He 
 seemed to be on the point of sighing, and then he 
 said briskly : 
 
 " Anyhow, it's a jolly old place, and you're a 
 jolly old woman, and we're going to have a jolly 
 old time, and if some jolly old ghosts turn up, that 
 will make it all the jollier." 
 
 Mrs. Foster said : "I don't know about that, 
 my dear ; there are said to be ghosts to this family. 
 But their records are most disreputable women 
 as well as men ' 
 
 The major let out lightly : " Oh, well, they 
 won't disturb me." 
 
 But Mrs. Foster exclaimed : " My dear, I don't 
 like to hear you talk like that. Disreputableness is 
 always a painful thing to hear of, even though it 
 may have taken place hundreds of years ago." 
 
82 THE PANEL 
 
 The major exclaimed : 
 
 " Yes, I always used to wonder that they let 
 us read the Book of Kings at school. But, 
 anyhow, if there aren't any ghosts, I hope you've 
 got some sliding doors and secret panels on 
 top." 
 
 " I don't know," Mrs. Foster said, and she gazed 
 rather apprehensively at the fierce man on the 
 large panel. " I shouldn't wonder if there were 
 dozens. From the way Miss Jenkins vanished just 
 now, it wouldn't in the least surprise me if there 
 were a secret door into this very room." She 
 looked again at the picture. " But some of the 
 doings of those gentries," she said, " were such, 
 that no modern person would care to contem- 
 plate." 
 
 " I don't know about that," the major said ; and 
 then he asked : " Who have you got stopping here, 
 old woman ? I know there's Olympia ; and Flossie 
 Delamare and Mrs. Kerr Howe came down with me 
 in the train. But who are the rest of your rum old 
 menagerie ? " 
 
 " I'd have had Lady Savylle," Mrs. Foster said, 
 " but she's not coming down for a fortnight or so. 
 And then she's going to the Dower House. She 
 wouldn't stop with us, though we told her that it 
 was her own house if we did pay her rent 
 for it." 
 
 The major exclaimed : " Lady Savylle ? Lady 
 
THE PANEL 83 
 
 Savylle of Higham ? This is her house ? My God, 
 why didn't I remember ? " 
 
 " Of course you know," Mrs. Foster said, with a 
 little note of triumph in her voice, " Higham itself 
 passed to the Duke of Rothbury in 1842. Lady 
 Savylle has only inherited this house and about 
 two thousand acres." 
 
 Mrs. Foster was a little triumphant because she 
 had remembered at least this detail. 
 
 The old butler had opened up the major's port- 
 manteau and unpacked most of the articles from 
 his kit-bag, and just at that moment he noise- 
 lessly withdrew. 
 
 " My dear," Mrs. Foster said, " I think it's 
 about time that we had a little explanation." 
 
 " I think it's just about it, old woman," the 
 major said. 
 
 " Of course, I'm only a stupid old person," 
 Mrs. Foster began. 
 
 " Of course, of course," the major said affec- 
 tionately. 
 
 " I never took any prizes at school," she con- 
 tinued, " and I don't suppose I ever shall now. 
 But when you went away like that, and disappeared, 
 your uncle said that you had probably gone to 
 lead the idle and dissolute life of an army officer." 
 
 " Well, so I had, so I had," the major said 
 amiably. " Three shillings a day, and be your 
 own dustman." 
 
84 THE PANEL 
 
 " But I knew better," his aunt continued, 
 " and when you didn't answer our letters I just 
 asked and asked. I don't mean to say that I put 
 detectives on you, my dear, but I just asked and 
 asked everywhere. Whenever I heard of people 
 coming home from India, I either got introduced 
 to them somehow or I just simply invited them 
 to dinner, without knowing them, which was 
 easy, as your uncle was a Common Councilman. 
 I asked and asked. If there wasn't any other way 
 of doing it, I just told them that I was anxious 
 for news about you, and nobody was rude to me, 
 even though I didn't know them. Why, I even 
 went to the old Duke of Cumberland and asked 
 him what there was between you and that 
 Mary Savylle, who's now the Lady Savylle of 
 Higham." 
 
 " There were six thousand miles between us," 
 the major said grimly. 
 
 " And I got to know ten or a dozen officers, 
 and one of them was an old Colonel Sax of your 
 regiment, and they all said you were working very 
 hard. And Colonel Sax said you weren't a very 
 brilliant officer, but a regular good plodder." 
 
 " Well, that was kind of Colonel Sax," the major 
 said. 
 
 "And then," Mrs. Foster continued, " I came 
 upon Miss Flossie Delamare, and afterwards Mrs. 
 Kerr Howe, and then I knew that the sort of 
 
THE PANEL 85 
 
 women you picked up were quite the nicest sort 
 of women." 
 
 " The devil you did ! " the major exclaimed. 
 
 " And I knew, or I supposed you were just work- 
 ing up to get Lady Savylle, and I hoped and prayed 
 you would. That I did, when I heard how good 
 you'd been to Miss Delamare and paid her passage 
 back. And I'm sure you had to go to those dread- 
 ful Indian money-lenders to do it, and you had 
 to suffer for it afterwards. And then you went 
 to Somaliland and I lost track of you, until I saw 
 in the military information in The Times, that 
 you were ordered home. And then I saw in the 
 Army and Navy Gazette about your brilliant 
 examination, and that same day you sent Olympia 
 to me and she told me that you were going blind. 
 And then I knew that you would never have 
 your Mary Savylle, after all the way you'd worked 
 and suffered in that sun and that horrible dusty 
 place, and then ..." The major sank down in 
 a long deep arm-chair before the fire. 
 
 " Olympia was exaggerating," he said. " I 
 wasn't going blind. I was only pipped for active 
 service. And I wasn't engaged to Olympia. I 
 never even thought of it." 
 
 " She said," Mrs. Foster said vindictively, " that 
 it was practically certain to come, and she showed 
 me that horrid little dog that you had given her, 
 and oh, my boy, my boy, I knew you'd given up." 
 
86 THE PANEL 
 
 " Oh, you mustn't say that about a man," the 
 major said, " who was just going to get engaged 
 to a charming lady. That's the beginning of life, 
 that isn't chucking up the sponge." 
 
 " But she isn't your sort, she isn't your kind ; 
 she isn't meant to make you happy," Mrs. Foster 
 almost wailed. " And oh, I was desperately un- 
 happy, and I took a stern determination. Yes, 
 I did, a determination. I just set my teeth and 
 I said : ' My boy shall have a good time now, 
 if he never did in his life.' And I said I'd get 
 the best house I knew in England for him to 
 spend his last days of freedom in. And I ordered 
 in the best wines and the best cigars, at twelve 
 guineas a hundred though it was Miss Jenkins 
 that chose them, and she said they were the kind 
 you used to smoke at Thorbury." 
 
 " But, I say, old woman," the major said, " who 
 is Miss Jenkins ? And why did you choose this 
 house of all the houses in the world ? " 
 
 A look of real triumph charmed in Mrs. Foster's 
 eyes. 
 
 " Ah I " she exclaimed. " I said to myself, 
 6 If Edward is going to live in prison for the rest 
 of his life, I'm going to let him see his old friends 
 for the last time.' And so I asked Miss Delamare 
 and Mrs. Kerr Howe because they seemed so fond 
 of you, and I was perfectly determined that I 
 would get Lady Savylle too. And I thought of 
 
THE PANEL 87 
 
 that plan of getting her Ladyship to let me this 
 house, because I thought it was sure to be full 
 of portraits of her, and remembrances of her. 
 And I was determined to ask her Ladyship to be 
 good enough to come and stop with us while we 
 were here, because you would be the son of the 
 house." 
 
 " I say, old woman," the major said, " that 
 was an awfully rum thing to do." 
 
 "Well, I did it," Mrs. Foster said. "I 
 wrote to her Ladyship in exactly, those words. 
 I've never seen her herself, but she answered 
 kindly that she couldn't come and stop with 
 us . . ." 
 
 The major said : " Ah ! " 
 
 " But that she would leave her own maid to 
 help settle us in, and that she would be coming 
 to stop at the Dower House just at the end of the 
 garden next week." Mrs. Foster paused to take 
 breath. 
 
 " So there you are," she said ; " you will have 
 your old friends and your old wine and your old 
 cigars, and there are six of the best horses that 
 could be got from Whiteleys'. And I forced your 
 uncle to agree to it all, for, I said, if he didn't, I 
 would take my money out of the business. For 
 my father saw to it that all my money was settled 
 on me, under trustees, with the permission to your 
 uncle to use it as capital, and I said, I take all my 
 
88 THE PANEL 
 
 money out and come and live down here with you 
 For he and I have lived together twenty-five years, 
 and I don't see why we shouldn't separate now. 
 I don't, for I've had a great deal to put up with, 
 though I shouldn't like anybody else to hear 
 it. ... And then your uncle said quite mildly 
 that he didn't see anything against the scheme, 
 and that he'd long thought of making you his heir, 
 because we were childless, and he knew I'd like 
 to adopt you. But that was only what he said. 
 It was really Olympia's doing. She can twist him 
 round her little finger. They sit and hold con- 
 fabulations together by the hour, leaving me 
 quite out in the cold. And it was she got your 
 uncle to make you his heir." 
 
 " Well, you can hardly blame her for that, old 
 woman," the major said mildly. 
 
 " She didn't do it for you," Mrs. Foster ex- 
 claimed, " she did it to get the money for herself. 
 But I said that if you were going to have all that 
 money, you must change your name to Foster, 
 for it only seemed just." 
 
 There was quite a long pause, and then the 
 major said : 
 
 " Well, old woman, you don't often break out, 
 but when you do ruzzle round, you certainly do. 
 It's an extraordinarily rum collection you've got 
 together." 
 
 " Oh, Teddy dear," Mrs. Foster exclaimed on 
 
THE PANEL 89 
 
 a note of anguish, " I do hope there's nothing 
 wrong. I do hope there's nothing you don't like." 
 
 " Oh, there's nothing wrong," the major said. 
 " It's only just queer." He got up from his chair 
 and put both his hands heavily and affectionately 
 on his aunt's shoulders. " You know, old woman, 
 you do get the most extraordinary ideas into that 
 head of yours. It's all most ingenious jumble. But 
 if you'd got a large barrel of gunpowder and 
 knocked its head off and put half a dozen barrels 
 all round it, and then stuck a lighted candle in 
 the naked powder well, you couldn't have more 
 ingeniously incited a little plot for a jolly big 
 explosion. Except, of course, that I am a reformed 
 character." 
 
 "Oh, Teddy," Mrs. Foster said plaintively, 
 " I do hope you don't mean to set the house on 
 fire by smoking in you.r bedroom and I do hope 
 much more that you aren't going to be a reformed 
 character until you marry Olympia. Your uncle 
 has forced me to be the president of a society for 
 the suppression of sin, but I do hope and pray 
 that you enjoy yourself here after all the trouble 
 I've taken to make things nice for you." 
 
 " Oh, it's all right, old woman," the major said. 
 " I'm going to have the time of my life ; but 
 I guess one can enjoy oneself without sinning." 
 
 Mrs. Foster looked very dubious. 
 
 " I don't know about that," she said, and the 
 
90 THE PANEL 
 
 major shook her with his laughter because he 
 still had his hands on her shoulders. 
 
 " You do have the rummiest old, funniest old 
 ideas I've ever heard of," he said. " And you're 
 the most courageous old plotter I ever met, 
 You don't fear and you do what you want, and 
 you don't care about the consequences 1 " 
 
 " I don't know that I do much," Mrs. Foster 
 said. " I'm beginning to think that I don't." 
 
 The major said : 
 
 " Oh come, old woman ! " 
 
 " I don't and I don't and I don't," Mrs. Foster 
 exclaimed. " I'm going to do what I think is 
 right and proper, and and hang the consequences. 
 That's what you'd say, isn't it ? " 
 
 The major recoiled a full step from his relative and 
 stood transfixed, holding out his arms before him. 
 
 " In spite of your uncle and in spite of your 
 Olympia, who is a Wesleyan Episcopal," Mrs. 
 Foster said slowly, with an air of fiendish deter- 
 mination, " while we are in this house we are 
 all going to church on Sundays." 
 
 The major exclaimed : " By gum ! " 
 
 " We shall go there," Mrs. Foster said, " out 
 of deference to Lady Savylle and to set the tenants 
 a good example." 
 
 " But if you're ..." the major said slowly, 
 " if you're what you are in fact, surely it isn't a 
 good example to go to church." 
 
THE PANEL 91 
 
 " I don't care," Mrs. Foster said. " It's a sign 
 to them that you are master of this house. You 
 would not like the other thing ; it is not what you've 
 been used to. Besides, it would be against true 
 hospitality to use Lady Savylle's house in order 
 to spread a form of belief that her Ladyship would 
 not approve of." 
 
 " Oh, I don't believe Nancy would care a 
 button." 
 
 " Well, that's enough about that," Mrs. Foster 
 said. And then to change the subject she asked, 
 after a long pause : 
 
 " My dear, did you know Lady Savylle very 
 well ? " 
 
 " Well . . ." the major said. " Oh, yes, very 
 well." And his manner seemed to shut in as if 
 he had snapped his lips together. 
 
 " But tell me just one thing," Mrs. Foster 
 pleaded. " You were engaged to her. . . ." 
 
 " Yes, for three days," the major said in a 
 short tone. " I'd only known her a fortnight. 
 There, there, that's enough." 
 
 " If you'd only told me I If you'd only told 
 me ! " Mrs. Foster almost wailed. " If you'd 
 only told your uncle ! He would have made it all 
 right. He would have seen that you were in 
 earnest ..." 
 
 " Oh, chuck it, old woman ! " the major said. 
 " I tell you, I won't talk about it. It would have 
 
92 THE PANEL 
 
 been a pretty way to show that I was in earnest, 
 just to marry a girl who might be coming into a 
 title. If that's earnestness, damn it, I say." 
 
 " But it might have meant a seat for the County," 
 Mrs. Foster pleaded. " That was how your uncle 
 looked at it, after the Duke had very kindly told 
 me he thought you were engaged to the young 
 lady, but he couldn't be sure." 
 
 The major said : " There, there, that will do." 
 
 " You know how strong a Nonconformist 
 Unionist your uncle is," Mrs. Foster said. " He 
 would have made any sacrifices for the party or 
 to get you into it." 
 
 " Oh, I know what my uncle is," the major 
 said ; " the blessed Unionist party is a thing no 
 decent man would stand for, because of people 
 like him and his sacrifices. You're a good sort, 
 but he's a confounded prig, and a tuft-hunter 
 and unsuccessful at that. He never gets a chance 
 to bow down to his boots to an Honourable's 
 third son, except at some charity function. He 
 wanted me to marry money or a title to show 
 I was an orderly member of Society. I wouldn't 
 do it then. I'm doing it now, because my spirit 
 is broken ; I'm used up. Done. I go out. I'm 
 marrying Olympia for her money that's the 
 dirty truth, and I'm not proud of it. You know 
 he would throw me over to-morrow if she threw 
 me over. So, I shall behave so that she will not 
 
THE PANEL 93 
 
 throw me over and of course I'll do my best to 
 give her a good time. That's my duty, and I'll 
 do it." In moments of agitation the major spoke 
 like one of his own sergeants. He finished with, 
 " There, there, there ! " And then he began 
 again agitatedly : " I tell you, I'm tired ! Used 
 up ! I must have comfort, quiet ! I can't stodge 
 away any more. God knows I've done enough 
 to get it and it hasn't all been any good. Worse 
 than useless ! Worse ! If I hadn't sweated so 
 hard, I should be in a better position ! I'd have 
 had better eyes that would mean more money ! 
 That's what it comes to ! I slogged like that for 
 Nancy upon my word, just for Nancy ! We 
 could have got along on a major's pay, out there. 
 Just got along ! And then the blasted girl goes 
 and gets rotten titles and mouldy houses to her 
 back on the day the bottom drops out of me. 
 The very black, beastly, blighted day ..." 
 
 In her turn Mrs. Foster said : 
 
 " There, there, there ! " 
 
 " That very same hateful day," he raved on. 
 And then he fixed his aunt with a glaring gaze. 
 "Look here," he said, "don't think that I'm 
 not young enough to enjoy a good time and 
 to deserve it. God knows I can laugh like another, 
 and lark above most. Young ! I'm the youngest 
 major in the British Army, for the rotten two- 
 pence halfpenny that it's worth ! And consider 
 
94 THE PANEL 
 
 
 the time that I've had. The long evenings with 
 nothing to do ; and the beastly dust going pink 
 in the sunsets, and the nigger johnnies sitting 
 eating dough under the wilted palm trees and 
 everything stinking of paraffin, and some sort of 
 beastly animal yap, yap, yapping away from the 
 filthy, blistering low hills ! Why, I've got the 
 feel of it in my bones, and not all the iced wine of 
 Champagne, and not all the kisses that were ever 
 kissed by a hundred women, could wash it out 
 again. Wine ! Kisses ! I've drunk luke-warm 
 pale ale, and I could have screamed, mad ghut, 
 and run amok in the native quarters. ..." He 
 stopped and looked at his aunt. " There, there, old 
 woman," he said, " that's how it feels. But don't 
 you worry. I'll be shocking Olympia, so that it 
 tickles her and makes her good all over to-morrow ! 
 What you feel in your bones, don't show in your 
 face." 
 
 His aunt reflected a moment. 
 
 " Yes, yes, that's what Olympia likes ! " she 
 said. " That's the fascination. You can shock 
 her, and she thinks that you are bold and dashing, 
 and dangerous and that she's got you, and can 
 trust you." 
 
 " Well, she has," the major said. " And, please 
 God, she can." 
 
 Again Mrs. Foster remained reflective for a 
 long minute. And then she asked slowly : 
 
THE PANEL 95 
 
 " Then, it is true that a man can remain faith- 
 ful to a woman for a long time for ten years ..." 
 
 " Eight years, nine months, and a week," the 
 major said. " And only saw her once for fourteen 
 days. Yes, it's true enough. But what's there 
 wonderful in that ? " 
 
 " It's what every woman really wants to know," 
 Mrs. Foster said, " and she hasn't ever really 
 any chance of knowing." 
 
 " Oh, well," the major said rather tiredly, " it's 
 so. It's certainly so, but, looking at the matter 
 from the inside, as I've got to do, I can't see that 
 it's anything particularly wonderful or romantic, 
 or even particularly meritorious. It's something 
 just funny, rather than anything else." 
 
 " I can't see how it's funny," Mrs. Foster said, 
 " you might say that it was sad, or sorrowful, 
 or something." 
 
 " Then that would just make it grotesque," 
 the major said. " And I daresay it is grotesque 
 a mixture of the sorrowful and the funny. See 
 here, I don't mean to say that I spent my whole 
 time sighing about Nancy Savylle, or that I hung 
 for hours over her photograph. I didn't ! I 
 hadn't got a photograph ; I lost it before I got as 
 far as Aden, and I cut a photograph of somebody 
 like her out of an illustrated paper, and it used 
 to stand on my writing-table in quarters, until 
 I got sick of it and chucked it into the Ganges. 
 
96 THE PANEL 
 
 No, I didn't sigh ; perhaps I didn't sigh once in 
 the ten years. I'm not the sighing sort, anyhow. 
 But it was like ... it was like ..." the major 
 paused and cast about in his mind for an illustra- 
 tion. " It was like being always slightly thirsty, 
 or having a very slight touch of indigestion all 
 the time." 
 
 " Oh, my dear," Mrs. Foster expostulated. 
 
 " Well, that is what it really was mostly like," 
 the major said, " but I'll withdraw it if it 
 shocks you. It was something that spoilt 
 everything ; that took the edge off everything. 
 I don't mean to say that I never looked at another 
 woman. There wasn't even anything in honour 
 to bind me not to. No engagement. It was just 
 broken off. She never even wrote to me, because 
 her confounded old great-uncle said that if she 
 did he would cut off her allowance, which was 
 all she had to live on, and, of course, she wasn't 
 the sort to do it in secret. I shouldn't have wanted 
 it. She'd just gone right out of my existence. 
 I never heard from her, I never heard of her. 
 Just gone ! Dropped down an infernal deep well. 
 And that's what I mean by saying that it took 
 the edge off things. Of course, you understand 
 that the only thing that is really interesting to a 
 young man is young women. That is a heart talk, 
 so you needn't be shocked. And there wasn't 
 any woman that came along that interested me 
 
THE PANEL 97 
 
 in the least. Not one that made my pulse beat in 
 the least quicker. Of course I talked to 'em ; 
 and of course I larked with them. I'm not Irish, 
 I suppose, for nothing. But that was just it 
 they didn't interest me. I had to cover up yawns 
 sometimes, in the midst of the larkiest of larks. 
 That sort of thing." 
 
 " That's what I should call love," Mrs. Foster 
 said. 
 
 " Oh, I don't know," the major answered ; 
 " of course, if you're satisfied, you're satisfied. 
 But I don't want to pose as a sentimental character. 
 If any other woman had come along that did 
 interest me " 
 
 " But no one could have," Mrs. Foster said. 
 " There wouldn't be one in the world." 
 
 " Oh, that's probably sentimental gap," the 
 major retorted ; " you are a silly, old, sentimental 
 old woman. It's absurd that in the millions and 
 millions there are, there shouldn't have been one 
 that couldn't make me forget a tomboy that I had 
 only seen for three weeks in my whole life, and 
 been engaged to for three days. Supposing that 
 it was the look in the eye that did it, and the high 
 instep, and the swinging walk of the creature that 
 she was do you mean to tell me supposing that 
 that was what I was looking for that I shouldn't 
 have found the same look and the same voice, 
 and the same way the black hair of her curled, 
 G 
 
98 THE PANEL 
 
 in a thousand others? The doctrine of chances 
 forbids it. If there's a chance of a million to one 
 against it, aren't there about five hundred million 
 women in the world ? " 
 
 " Then you never looked for one," Mrs, Foster 
 said. 
 
 " Oh, you rotten, sentimental old ass," the 
 major addressed his aunt. " I daresay you've 
 got at the truth of it. I never did look for one. 
 But don't you go running away with the idea that 
 that was love. It wasn't. It was a sort of selfish- 
 ness. It was like this. I felt that my job in life 
 was to make myself the sort of career that would 
 fit me to pick up with Nancy again. Don't you 
 understand ? I plodded and stodged for just that, 
 and nothing else. That was why when on the 
 same day the bottom fell out of me, and Nancy 
 jumped up in the social scale as if she'd been a 
 balloon that you'd let go the ropes of, I just 
 proposed right away to Olympia. It wasn't love ; 
 it wasn*t morals or faith ; it was just want of 
 interest and selfishness." 
 
 " Now, you can say what you like, my dear 
 Edward," Mrs. Foster said, " I'm not a very 
 clever woman, but I can tell a great A from a 
 bull's foot. But that's the sort of love that any 
 sensible woman would want to get hold of. It 
 isn't your ramping, tearing, raging, obstreperous 
 sort of young man that any woman in her senses 
 
THE PANEL 99 
 
 would want, as they say in the poem that I never 
 can remember the words of, but it's something 
 about the burden of my song, though what that 
 means I haven't the least idea of. But you'll 
 want to be getting to bed, and not stopping talking 
 to an old woman like me, who goes on and on 
 talking about one and the same thing. But there's 
 one thing I would like to tell you, because it 
 was my very own idea. There'll be lots of people 
 that you know coming down in a day or two all 
 the people that I told you I'd picked up because 
 they knew you, and your uncle's cook is famous 
 throughout the City. But what I want to tell you 
 is, sometimes, as I daresay you've heard, rather 
 unpleasant things happen in these large country 
 houses." 
 
 " Oh, I've heard it all right," the major said. 
 
 " Well," Mrs. Foster exclaimed triumphantly, 
 " with the help of Miss Jenkins, who knows the 
 house from roof to cellar, I've arranged that all 
 the men the gentlemen sleep in one wing of 
 the house, and all the ladies in the other." 
 
 Again the major ejaculated : 
 
 " My God 1 " 
 
 " Of course it's a little confusing the house 
 is," his aunt continued. " At any rate, there are 
 the dining-room and the breakfast-room, and a 
 whole lot of halls and offices in between the two 
 wings. That is to say, they are not rightly two 
 
100 THE PANEL 
 
 wings. If I understand the arrangement, they are 
 really back to back. But at any rate the sexes are 
 separated. Don't you think it's splendid ? " 
 
 " Oh, splendid ! splendid I " the major said ; 
 " and you are the most dangerous old inflamma- 
 tory I've ever come across." 
 
 His aunt smiled rather complacently. 
 
 " My dear," she said, " when a woman comes 
 to my age there's a certain change comes over 
 her. God knows I've been a good wife to your 
 uncle. But when a man's sixty he looks forward 
 to retiring so does a woman, and I'm over sixty. 
 I've looked after your uncle's house ; I've lived 
 up to the standard of your uncle's requirements, 
 whether in morals or what they call customs 
 or is it conventions ? And precious foolish many 
 of his morals and customs or if it's conventions, 
 then conventions have seemed to me, often and 
 often. But now the time has come when I mean 
 to do what pleases me, and what seems right to 
 me. I don't mean to say that I should have done 
 it if you hadn't introduced that Olympia into this 
 house but if your uncle can be influenced by one 
 woman, he's got to do what another wants and 
 that one's me or else he's got to do without her." 
 
 The major said : "Oh dear, I do hope Olympia 
 hasn't . . ." 
 
 " Oh, I don't mean anything of that sort," 
 Mrs. Foster answered. " Your uncle always must 
 
THE PANEL 101 
 
 have some one to philander with in his silly 
 complimenting manner, which reminds me of an 
 old sheep trying to make love to a chicken. 
 And when it was a matter of Flossie Delamare, I 
 didn't mind. For she's a dear, good, bright little 
 thing, and deserves all she gets, and it's a great 
 comfort to me to know her, for she does bring a 
 little brightness into my life. And I don't mind 
 if your uncle builds her a dozen theatres as long 
 as he can afford it. And I wish it was her you 
 were marrying, for I've often thought of adopting 
 her. And I don't really object to Mrs. Kerr Howe, 
 though she has rather pushed her way into the 
 house, and some of her opinoins are . . . well, I 
 haven't got any words for them. Still, I don't 
 object to her, because she does pay me the atten 
 tion of reading her books to me, and very pretty, 
 if not quite proper, some of them are. But, when 
 it comes to Olympia why, she treats me all the 
 time as if she were a shopwalker trying to tell me 
 that I don't know tulle from nun's veiling which 
 is the most insulting thing that can happen to one. 
 But there, there, you've had enough of me. Good 
 night." 
 
 " I say, wait a minute," the major said. " Where 
 does that beastly dog of poor Olympia's sleep ? " 
 
 Mrs. Foster answered : "On the doormat out- 
 side her door. She says that she cannot sleep if 
 the dog isn't somewhere near, and at the same 
 
102 THE PANEL 
 
 time, it's unhealthy to have an animal sleeping 
 in your bedroom." 
 
 " Oh, I know, I know," the major groaned. 
 " It was like that at Gordon Square. And in the 
 middle of the night the horrid little animal will 
 come whining and scratching at my door, and 
 then poor dear Olympia will discover that her dog 
 isn't outside her door. And she'll come to find the 
 dog, and I shall have to get up and invent loving 
 speeches through the door at four in the morning." 
 
 " Oh, I don't think that either the dog or 
 Olympia could find their way through all these 
 dark, old, winding corridors, that I'm almost 
 afraid to go along myself," Mrs. Foster said, and 
 she shivered a little. 
 
 " That only shows," the major answered, " that 
 you don't know either of them. They'll come all 
 right, for all you've separated the sexes so neatly." 
 
 Mrs. Foster caught at that moment the eye of 
 the fierce, dark man in the panel, and she dis- 
 appeared quickly into the terrors of the corridors, 
 calling over her shoulder : 
 
 " Well, you've had enough of me." 
 
IV 
 
 rilHE major shut his door, and then remained, 
 -*- pottering round his room, making muttering 
 exclamations at what he saw the fire-dogs, the 
 great fireplace, the immense bed, the walls hung 
 with dark tapestry. Then he came back to the 
 fireplace, and standing before it he quoted aloud : 
 
 " So that there, in a manner of speaking, we all 
 are." 
 
 He sauntered over to the large mahogany 
 washing-stand, and exclaimed over that : 
 
 " Hullo, no hot water ! Poor aunt always did 
 have the worst servants in Christendom." Then 
 he pulled a long strip of embroidery that hung at 
 the side of the fire and sat down to await the 
 servant. He did not even take off his coat, for he 
 supposed the servant would be a woman, and he 
 disliked any woman to see him in his shirt. It 
 seemed to be disrespectful to them. He sat in his 
 arm-chair with his back to the panel, just thinking 
 and thinking. And suddenly he said : 
 
 " Well, there aren't going to be any more cakes 
 and ale that's flat." He heard a slight knock 
 
 103 
 
104 THE PANEL 
 
 
 from somewhere and sat still looking at the door. 
 And then quite distinctly, but very softly, he heard 
 from behind his back the name : " Teddy Brent." 
 He really jumped quite out of his chair, and seeing 
 just behind his chair the figure of a maid in cap 
 and apron, he exclaimed almost violently : 
 
 " Hullo, who the devil are you ? What do you 
 mean by springing up like that ? " 
 
 " I came in through the little door behind the 
 hangings," the servant said. " That is the door 
 her Ladyship likes us to use, because her 
 Ladyship dislikes seeing us about the corri- 
 dors, sir." 
 
 She spoke very stiffly and correctly, with her 
 eyes on the floor, and she added : " What did you 
 please to want, sir ? " 
 
 " Oh, hang it all," the major said, " you don't 
 come into a man's room and startle him out of his 
 seven senses by calling him Teddy Brent, and 
 then ask him what he pleases to want." 
 
 " I'm very sorry, sir," the maid said. " It 
 slipped out, sir, along of my being her Ladyship's 
 Own Maid and having served her for so long, sir." 
 She spoke very low, distinctly, and very levelly, 
 like the most perfect of servants, and the major 
 exclaimed for he felt confused and stupid : 
 
 " Not so many sirs. I know I am your social 
 superior without being reminded of it every three 
 words." 
 
THE PANEL 105 
 
 The maid suddenly laughed, and then she said 
 quickly : 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir, it slipped out, sir. It's 
 because I'm so glad for her Ladyship, sir, that 
 you've come back, sir. It's made me a little 
 hysterical. I can't help it, sir, remembering so 
 well the old days at Holbury, sir, nine years ago 
 and more. What did you please to want, sir ? " 
 
 The major stood looking at her with a puzzled 
 expression. His slight doze in the arm-chair had 
 muddled him. Suddenly he moved up close to 
 her and said : 
 
 " What I want, desperately, is to kiss you, and 
 that's the truth." 
 
 She moved precisely two steps back. 
 
 " That couldn't have been what you wanted 
 when you rang, sir." 
 
 The major sank down once again into his chair. 
 
 " It's extraordinary," he said, " but she couldn't 
 have had the cheek to try it on. No one could." 
 And then he added regretfully : " Oh, well, I am a 
 reformed character, when it's all said and done." 
 
 Her Ladyship's Own Maid interjected : 
 
 " Yes, sir," interrogatively. 
 
 And the major said irritably : 
 
 " Oh, drop those sirs. They get on my nerves. 
 It's enough to make one believe you're not a 
 servant at all. I never knew one use so many." 
 
 " Well, you're the odd gentleman," Miss 
 
106 THE PANEL 
 
 Jenkins said calmly. " If you would please to 
 tell me what you want. . . . I'm sure her Lady- 
 ship would give me a character as long as her life, 
 pretty nearly, sir." 
 
 " I don't believe you're a day older than Lady 
 Savylle," the major said. " You can't have been 
 her nurse, so don't try to make me believe it. 
 What's your name ? " 
 
 Miss Jenkins, who had been standing with her 
 hands at her sides, clasped them behind her. 
 
 " I was born on the same day as her Ladyship," 
 she said, " and I'm sure I've tried to be a faithful 
 servant to her all my life. My name is Mary 
 Jenkins, called after the Lady Mary Savylle that 
 was her Ladyship's grandmother." 
 
 The major remained glaring moodily in front of 
 him. 
 
 " Oh, I see, I see," he said at last ; "a sort of 
 foster-sister that's what they call it, isn't it?" 
 
 Miss Jenkins, with her eyes upon the ground, 
 said : 
 
 " As you're pleased to say so." The major 
 immediately became filled with compunction. 
 " Oh, I really beg your pardon," he said, " I'm 
 afraid I've been too inquisitive. A foster-sister, of 
 
 course 1 " 
 
 Miss Jenkins said calmly : 
 
 " Oh, there's no occasion at all, sir. It isn't a 
 painful question at all as far as I know." 
 
THE PANEL 107 
 
 " Then that's all right, that's all right," Major 
 Foster said cheerfully. "I think I understand." 
 He recovered, indeed, all his usual calmness of de- 
 meanour. He remained, however, silent for a 
 moment, and Miss Jenkins remarked : 
 
 " Her Ladyship has left me in the house here to 
 see that the tenants don't break the heirlooms." 
 
 The major said : 
 
 " Yes, yes, very proper, very proper, I'm sure. 
 So you were at Hglbury. And you recognize me ! 
 I never noticed you." 
 
 " One doesn't notice one's social inferiors very 
 much, sir," Miss Jenkins said, " but I should have 
 recognized you, sir, anywhere. That's what 
 startled me a little when I came into the room." 
 
 The major said : " Yes, yes ; and what about 
 her Ladyship ? Has she changed much ? " 
 
 " You would better know than I, sir," Miss 
 Jenkins said. " I'm too much with her to be able 
 to notice changes, but I shouldn't say her Lady- 
 ship has changed much." 
 
 The major said : 
 
 " Well, when you see her, tell her that I haven't 
 changed at all. Only tell her that I had the 
 rottenest time any chap ever had, and tell her 
 that I'm having a rotten time now, and that I 
 don't expect to get any better." 
 
 He was looking full at the girl's face. Her lips 
 were very red, and he was almost certain that 
 
108 THE PANEL 
 
 they never moved ; nevertheless, he was almost 
 certain that she said, " Poor fellow ! " And he 
 exclaimed sharply : " What's that ? " 
 
 Miss Jenkins said : 
 
 " I didn't say anything, sir." 
 
 And he added : 
 
 " I thought you said, ' poor fellow.' ' 
 
 Miss Jenkins said : " I shouldn't be so familiar, 
 sir. From being so much with her Ladyship I'm 
 perhaps more familiar than I should be, but I 
 shouldn't be so familiar as that, sir." 
 
 " Oh," the major said, " I am a poor fellow, so 
 I shouldn't mind it much. A reformed character, 
 that's what I am." 
 
 " Oh, I hope not," Miss Jenkins said. " It 
 would disappoint her Ladyship. And you did try 
 to kiss me." 
 
 " Oh, what's that ? " the major said de- 
 spondently. " It's almost a duty to kiss a servant. 
 It's not like trying to kiss your equal, but it's not 
 likely to be found out. Don't you see, the whole 
 thing about being a reformed character consists 
 in doing things that aren't likely to be found out." 
 
 Miss Jenkins said : 
 
 " Oh, I didn't know, sir. At any rate, no gentle- 
 man has tried to kiss me as a matter of duty. Not 
 since Holbury, sir." 
 
 " Do you and her Ladyship live in an asylum 
 for the blind ? " he asked ; and she answered : 
 
THE PANEL 109 
 
 " Thank you, sir, no sir, I live here with her 
 Ladyship. We don't see many gentlemen at all, 
 sir." 
 
 " Oh, I say," Major Foster exclaimed with real 
 concern, " I hope Nancy isn't a reformed charac- 
 ter. I hope she's had a good time. It would be 
 too rotten if we both of us muffed our lives." 
 
 " Oh, she lives as she pleases," Miss Jenkins 
 said, " but it doesn't include men who want to 
 kiss me." 
 
 The major looked at her seriously. " I don't 
 like to hear that," he said. " She ought to marry." 
 
 " Ah well, she's like me," Miss Jenkins com- 
 mented. " She doesn't take much stock in men." 
 
 The major stood up in front of the fire. "Ah 
 well," he said, with a slight sigh, " that's the dif- 
 ferent way it takes. She hasn't run after men 
 for my sake ; and I've run after women for her 
 sake if you understand me." 
 
 " Yes, yes, I think I understand," Miss Jenkins 
 said. " You meant to get her out of your head." 
 
 Major Foster said quickly : " Oh, it wasn't only 
 that. It was hardly that at all. I wanted to get 
 myself out of her head. I thought if I came a 
 holy mucker she would come to hear of it, and 
 that would sicken her of me and so she'd forget." 
 He was not looking at her at that moment, and 
 yet he was perfectly certain that she said, " Poor 
 fellow," when he accused her of it. 
 
110 THE PANEL 
 
 "Why, so I did, sir," she said. "Don't you 
 see that if you'd come a hundred and fifty muckers 
 her Ladyship would have understood it was her 
 fault, and only cared for you all the more. Besides, 
 you didn't come any muckers." 
 
 " Oh, that's only what they call the grace of 
 God," the major said. 
 
 Miss Jenkins looked at the floor. "If you'd 
 kindly tell me what you pleased to want." 
 
 The major said explosively : 
 
 " Oh, shut up ! I won't tell you what I want. 
 I want to kiss you, I want to hear about Nancy, 
 I want . . ." 
 
 " But you're a reformed character, sir," Miss 
 Jenkins reminded him. " You're engaged to 
 Miss Peabody." 
 
 " Oh, poor Olympia ! " the major said. " Look 
 here, does Nancy talk about me much ? " 
 
 Miss Jenkins said briefly : 
 
 " Her Ladyship never mentioned your name." 
 
 " Then how do you know " the major 
 
 was beginning. 
 
 " Oh, I know, if it isn't presumptuous of me 
 to say so, when her Ladyship is thinking of you." 
 
 " Look here," the major said suddenly, " I 
 suppose I'm an awful nuisance to you. But if 
 you could find any use for a fiver ..." 
 
 Miss Jenkins put her hands behind her back 
 She smiled suddenly with a sort of gay malice. 
 
THE PANEL 111 
 
 " Her Ladyship doesn't allow me to take tips 
 But if you give me that half threepenny bit, 
 sir . . ." 
 
 The major said " What ? " in a really appalled 
 voice. " Give you ? . . . What's that ? " 
 
 Miss Jenkins looked him hardly in the eyes. 
 " If you'll give it me you may kiss me," she said. 
 
 " lam damned if I will," he said. " I don't know 
 how you come to know about that. I suppose 
 Lady Savylle told you. But I'm particularly 
 damned if I do anything of the sort." 
 
 " I don't believe you've got it," Miss Jenkins 
 said. " I believe you've given it to Miss Peabody 
 or Miss Delamare or Mrs. Kerr Howe." 
 
 The major fumbled irritably inside his collar. 
 
 " You're a sort of impertinent blackmailer," 
 he said. " But I suppose if you don't see it 
 you'll tell her Ladyship that I've given it 
 away." 
 
 " I should certainly be inclined to do so, sir," 
 Miss Jenkins said calmly. With a sawing sound 
 a little gold chain came up above the major's 
 collar and, upon the chain, a very small gold locket 
 into which there fitted visibly a threepenny bit. 
 " There ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 Miss Jenkins leaned forward to look at it. " You 
 may kiss me now, if you like," she really murmured. 
 
 But the major exclaimed : " No, certainly not, 
 certainly not." 
 
112 THE PANEL 
 
 " Well, you may kiss me and think it's her," 
 Miss Jenkins said. 
 
 " That would be nonsense," the major answered. 
 44 1 don't think I like you at all. I think you've 
 a bad character, even for a servant." 
 
 " Then I'd better go," Miss Jenkins said. 
 " Good night, sir," and she was turning back 
 towards the little door. 
 
 " But," the major exclaimed, " here, hang it 
 all, wait a minute, I want you to talk about her 
 Ladyship." 
 
 " There is nothing more to tell," Miss Jenkins 
 said. " Besides, it isn't right. You're engaged 
 to Miss Peabody." 
 
 " You've only just remembered that" the 
 major exclaimed. 
 
 " I wish I hadn't got it to forget," Miss Jenkins 
 retorted. " But it's much too late. I must 
 
 go" 
 
 " Oh, look here," the major said, " stop and 
 talk. I feel lonely. I'm not a bit sleepy. I am 
 afraid of the ghosts." 
 
 Miss Jenkins said : " Oh, get along, sir." 
 
 " Now don't talk like a servant," the major 
 said. " You've been talking like a lady. You 
 know all about this old place ? " 
 
 Miss Jenkins answered : " I know just about 
 as much as Lady Savylle does. Of course, she's 
 only owned it about six months. But she's just 
 
THE PANEL 113 
 
 soaked herself in it until you might say it was 
 part of herself." 
 
 " Well then, look here," the major asked, 
 " aren't there ghosts here ? And secret doors ? 
 And sliding panels ? " 
 
 " There's the little door I came in by," Miss 
 Jenkins said. " That used to be a secret door for 
 priests to escape by, but it leads to the servants' 
 quarters ; and then there's the panel between this 
 room and the next. That's quite secret. You 
 see, if anybody wanted to escape and the pursuers 
 were in this wing, he would just slip through the 
 panel and shut it again, and out of another secret 
 door that's in Miss Delamare's room, and they'd 
 have to run the whole length of a house before 
 they could catch him. It's one of the most ingenious 
 and complete systems of secret panelling that there 
 is in the kingdom, and her Ladyship has had it 
 completely repaired so that it runs on castors." 
 
 The major said : "A panel. In this room ? 
 Where is it ? " 
 
 " Well, of course, it's the picture, sir," Miss 
 Jenkins said. " It stands to reason that a bedroom 
 is an out-of-the-way place to put a picture by 
 Van der Burg in. Especially when it is a very 
 valuable picture of the second Earl and his family 
 unless there's special reason for its being there." 
 
 " Oh, it's that ? " the major asked. 
 
 Miss Jenkins walked deliberately up to the 
 
114 THE PANEL 
 
 picture and, scrutinizing the large carved frame, 
 she put her finger on the corner of a wooden leaf. 
 
 " If you press this place, just beside the electric 
 lights switch," she said, " the panel will slide back 
 into the wall and let you right into the next room." 
 
 " That would be rather a lark," the major said. 
 " Where did you say it exactly was ? " 
 
 Miss Jenkins had turned back into the room 
 and was going towards the little door. She looked 
 back over her shoulder and said : 
 
 " It would let you into Miss Flossie Delamare's 
 room, sir." 
 
 The major sank back into his arm-chair again. 
 
 "Oh, heavens!" he exclaimed; "then don't 
 show me. Don't tell me. I don't want to know 
 anything about knobs and things. Go away. 
 Go away quickly. It's most improper your being 
 here, and I wouldn't mind betting half a crown 
 that Olympia will be here in a minute or two." 
 
 " Well, I'm glad you've thought of that at last, 
 sir," Miss Jenkins said. 
 
 " I don't mind saying," the major confessed, 
 "that Miss Olympia is particularly jealous of 
 attractive servants. We're only going to have 
 men when we are married." 
 
 Miss Jenkins disappeared under the dark hang- 
 ings, and again the major was perfectly certain 
 that she said : 
 
 " Oh, poor fellow !" 
 
ONCE again the major was left to potter about 
 his room and to think. And once more he 
 exclaimed to himself that there, in a manner of 
 speaking, they all were, only that the deuce of 
 the matter was that he couldn't in the least tell 
 in any manner of speaking where in the world it 
 was that they could be said to be, and he certainly 
 hadn't got any hot water, and he knew that he 
 would go without it, for he was pretty certain 
 that that young lady wouldn't answer his bell again. 
 
 He was therefore just beginning to take off 
 his coat when, with a little click, the electric 
 lights went out, and he grumbled vigorously that 
 it was only in a house tenanted by his aunt that 
 you could be certain of having no water, and 
 equally certain of having no light. 
 
 The fire had rather died down, so that it was 
 pretty darkish as he strolled across the room in 
 a brown study and stretched his hand towards 
 the switch. He couldn't for the life of him make 
 up his mind whether Miss Jenkins was the second 
 woman in the four hundred million, or whether she 
 wasn't, as he put it, something altogether too 
 
 115 
 
116 THE PANEL 
 
 preposterously impossible that she could possibly 
 be. It had affected him like something impossible, 
 really as if he had seen a ghost. 
 
 He was looking at Miss Flossie Delamare. 
 There wasn't the least doubt that he was looking 
 at Flossie. She was in a peignoir that was a foam 
 of pink. She was standing with her back to a 
 dressing-table that was covered with shining 
 things. She was just saying good night to some- 
 body who had just gone out of the room, and she 
 looked exactly like a rather small Olivia out 
 of the Vicar of Wakefleld. The walls were all 
 covered with a pink-flowered chintz, the hangings 
 of the four-post bed were all of pink-flowered 
 chintz, and so were the curtains and the valances 
 over the long windows. It was an extraordinary 
 effect, as if it had been sunlight ; it was as if he 
 had stepped right straight out of the gloom of the 
 seventeenth century bang into the eighteenth. 
 The panel had just gone ; noiselessly upon its 
 castors it had disappeared, and Major Edward 
 Brent Foster found himself explaining to himself 
 that now he could understand why Mary Savylle 
 treasured her house enough to leave her own maid 
 behind her when it contained such perfect trea- 
 sures of old rooms, for over the high white mantel- 
 piece there was an undoubted Gainsborough a 
 gentleman in a bright red coat pointing his finger 
 to distant cannon fire. 
 
THE PANEL 117 
 
 But he hadn't the least hesitation about ad- 
 vancing into the room and exclaiming : 
 
 " Here, I say, for goodness' sake, Flossie, lend 
 me one of your candles and let me find that blessed 
 knob again." 
 
 Miss Delamare's eyes became rather wide, and 
 she exclaimed : 
 
 " Teddy Brent, by all that's wonderful ! " 
 
 " Oh ! " the major exclaimed. " Why don't you 
 say 4 Teddy Brent, by all that's damnable ? ' 
 You've got to remember that my respectable 
 name is Foster now, and that I am a reformed 
 character." 
 
 " Well, I didn't ask you to come into my bed- 
 room, Teddy," Miss Delamare said, with a slightly 
 injured air. " I don't object to your being here. 
 But I didn't ask you. Your aunt's just gone 1 
 I've been sitting talking to her, or goodness 
 knows what dreadful things you mightn't have 
 
 seen." 
 
 " Well, lend me a candle," the major said. 
 
 " But what's it all about ? " Miss Delamare 
 asked. " You don't surely come into a lady's 
 room at a quarter past twelve and ask her for a 
 candle ? " 
 
 " I do," the major exclaimed. " Don't you 
 understand there's a sliding panel between these 
 rooms ? And I touched the knob by accident, 
 and I can't get it shut." And the major dis- 
 
118 THE PANEL 
 
 appeared once more and began to fumble with 
 the frame of the picture. 
 
 Miss Delamare came delicately across the room 
 bearing one of her candles, and looked in upon 
 the major. 
 
 She said maliciously : "I say, Teddy, aren't 
 you going to admire my new dressing-gown ? 
 Aren't you going to kiss me, or anything ? Don't 
 you remember Simla and the pukka drives ? " 
 
 The major recoiled from the frame, and his 
 shadow went dancing all over the walls and the 
 ceiling of his room. " Don't you come into this 
 room ! " he said. " Don't you dare to ! " 
 
 " Teddtj" Miss Delamare said, " what's the 
 matter with you ? " 
 
 " The matter with me," the major said grimly, 
 " is that I'm engaged to Olympia Peabody." 
 
 " Oh, Teddy," she said woefully, " I knew you 
 were going to marry someone pretty awful but 
 that old mummy ! Oh, Teddy, that's playing it 
 too low down." 
 
 The major said : " Well, I'm not proud of it. 
 But I've got to get this panel shut." 
 
 " Well, it doesn't look as if you could, Teddy," 
 Miss Delamare said amiably. " You'd better let 
 me come in and try. Men aren't a bit of good 
 at that sort of thing." And she came into his 
 room and set the candle down on his dressing- 
 table. 
 
THE PANEL 119 
 
 The major moved away from the frame as if he 
 were afraid of her. 
 
 " I don't believe you can do anything," he 
 said gloomily. " And what will poor Olympia 
 say if she hears it's found open in the morning ? " 
 
 " Oh, I guess she'll have some pretty sweet 
 things to say," Miss Delamare said, with her back 
 to him and slightly abstractedly, because she was 
 feeling along the heavily carved frame for the knob. 
 The frame was perhaps a foot and a half broad, 
 of carved wood representing an inextricable tangle 
 of bunches of grapes, roses, and thistles. 
 
 " The servant said," the major continued, 
 " that it was just beside the light switch." 
 
 The picture was there in its place. Noiselessly, 
 and as if in a procession they had been drawn 
 along on a car, the three fierce men, the three 
 bare-shouldered, mild, blonde women and the 
 children, occupied their places and looked dim 
 in the light of Miss Delamare's candle. 
 
 " Well, it isn't," Miss Delamare said ; " it's a 
 full foot above the switch." 
 
 The major, who had sprung back at the ghostly 
 arrival of the panel, now sprang forward. 
 
 " Hang on to it ! " he exclaimed. " For good- 
 ness' sake hang on to it, or we shall be caught 
 like rats in a trap. That thing is the very devil ! " 
 
 " All right, I'm hanging on," Miss Delamare 
 said, appearing as if she were nailed to the wall 
 
120 THE PANEL 
 
 by one white, raised hand. " But it really isr.'t 
 necessary. It's this knobby thistle thing that 
 does the trick." 
 
 " Then for goodness' sake," the major repeated, 
 " do the trick and get back to your room and shut 
 it after you, and let's have a night's rest." 
 
 " All right, Teddy," Miss Delamare repeated 
 in her turn ; " but you might give me a minute 
 or two, I do think." 
 
 " Not a minute, not a second," the major 
 answered hotly. " It's too dangerous. We can 
 talk to-morrow." 
 
 " No we can't, Teddy," she answered. " Your 
 Olympia you should just have seen her face 
 when your aunt intioduced me to her as your 
 very oldest, dearest, darlingest friend your 
 Olympia will jolly well see to that. No more 
 talks for us." 
 
 " But it would give my aunt her death if you 
 were found here," the major pleaded. 
 
 " I don't believe it would," she said. " Your 
 aunt's too sensible for that. But I'll go, if it's 
 for her sake. I'm hanged if I would if you'd 
 mentioned the other woman again ! " She moved 
 her wrist on the frame. 
 
 " By Jove, Teddy," she said, " I'm wiggling 
 the button thing up and down for all I am worth, 
 and the old panel thing don't move a step." 
 
 The major stepped agitatedly towards her, 
 
THE PANEL 121 
 
 and she continued : "It isn't a thing you press ; 
 you click it up and down like a switch. Here, 
 you have a try." 
 
 With a face full of a sort of awe the major began 
 clicking the thistle-like knob, interjecting from 
 time to time : " Oh, hell ! " And with the awe 
 intensified he looked round upon Miss Dela- 
 mare. 
 
 " It won't move," he exclaimed slowly. 
 
 Miss Delamare seated herself comfortably in his 
 arm-chair and kicked off her shoes. She extended 
 her stockings to the fire. 
 
 " Oh, go on wiggling, I can wait," she 
 said. 
 
 The major set his face to the wall, first on one 
 side of the knob and then on the other. He pulled 
 out his penknife, tried to remove what he thought 
 might be some dirt from the workings of the 
 thistle shank. 
 
 " I believe the clockwork's run down," Miss 
 Delamare said. " It must work by a spring, or 
 it couldn't be so quiet. Don't you be too violent 
 or you'll break the whole blessed thing, and then 
 we shall be in the cart." 
 
 The major tried pressing and tried pulling. He 
 drew out his handkerchief and wiped his forehead, 
 and then he ran his nails along the edge of the 
 picture itself. 
 
 " You can kiss me if you like, Teddy," Miss 
 
122 THE PANEL 
 
 Delamare's voice came to him mockingly. ' l Then 
 it would be quite like old times." 
 
 The major repeated : " Oh, hell ! " 
 
 " No, I didn't say anything so nasty," Miss 
 Delamare continued to mock him. " I said 
 you could kiss me. Don't you remember 
 Simla ? " 
 
 The major was fumbling in his kit-bag for a 
 little oil-can he always carried with him. 
 
 " No, I don't," he said. " I don't want to. 
 I'm not going to." He paused to recover his 
 breath. " Look here. There's no cause to open 
 that panel again. You just get out of my room 
 by the usual way." And at a very slight shake 
 of Miss Delamare's head he went on : " I'll give 
 you a pearl necklace if you'll go quietly one I 
 bought for poor Olympia." 
 
 Again Miss Delamare shook her head. 
 
 " I'd like to do that Yankee in the eye," she 
 ejaculated. " But if you think, Major Edward 
 Brent Foster, late of His Majesty's 126th Regiment, 
 that I'm going to walk all along these old corridors 
 in the dark and black-beetles ..." 
 
 " Oh, rot ! " the major said. " You used to 
 walk all over Simla in the dark." 
 
 " But not black-beetles, Teddy," Miss Delamare 
 exclaimed. 
 
 " Up the Bazaar and along the Chota Hazri 
 Drive and King William Street everywhere." 
 
THE PANEL 123 
 
 " You're remembering Simla now, Teddy," 
 Miss Delamare said softly. 
 
 " I don't want to, but I've got to," the major 
 conceded, " for the sake of argument. . . ." 
 
 And then Miss Delamare said, softly and as- 
 tonishingly : " Poor fellow ! " 
 
 The major really jumped. 
 
 " Don't say that ! " he ejaculated. " That's 
 what Nancy's housemaid said." 
 
 " Well, you are a poor, poor fellow," Miss 
 Delamare corroborated. " Did urns want its 
 old friend out of its little bedroom? " 
 
 " Yes, I do," the major said frankly. " Look 
 here, Flossie, do the decent thing and quit. I 
 don't believe I'm very well. I've had a sort of 
 message from from Mary Savylle. You heard 
 me speak of her in Simla." 
 
 " Oh, / don't remember Simla ! " Miss Delamare 
 said, with a toss of her head. " And so this 
 Mary Savylle ? " 
 
 " I don't know," the major said. " She hasn't 
 married. . . . But just trot away, there's a good 
 chap. I'll kiss you and give you the pearl neck- 
 lace too." 
 
 Miss Delamare jumped out of her chair and 
 faced him in her stockinged feet. 
 
 " Who wants your old kisses and who wants 
 your pearl necklaces ? " she exclaimed. " Keep 
 them for Olympia Peabody and joy go with them." 
 
124 THE PANEL 
 
 She moved towards the door and then turned 
 to say : 
 
 " I was never the one to come between a man 
 and his fair and blushing bride. I don't want 
 to spoil sport. I wish you all the joy you can get. 
 ALL ! " She paused, and then she added : " But 
 you may kiss me if you want to, Teddy." 
 
 The major looked at her and then at the fire. 
 
 " I don't really think I want to, Flossie," he 
 said slowly. " I don't I don't believe I can be 
 very well." 
 
 " Oh well, Teddy," she said, with a remon- 
 strating voice, " don't talk to me as if you were 
 sea-sick and I were a pork chop. Just say you've 
 seen the girl you really like again. Don't put it 
 as if I didn't look good to kiss. That would 
 damage my professional chances. The other's 
 only a matter of my heart." 
 
 " Oh, Lord, no," the major said. " You're a 
 sweet good brick a lump of nougat and the 
 prettiest girl the prettiest girl only I just 
 want to get a chance to think ..." 
 
 Miss Delamare said " Poor fellow ! " again, 
 and the major said : 
 
 " Don't say that, I don't like it," again in a 
 really appealing voice ; and he added : " Go away 
 as quietly as you can." 
 
 "All right, Teddy," she answered. "I'm in 
 my stockinged feet and I shan't ring a fire-bell. 
 
THE PANEL 125 
 
 I don't in the least know whether I can find my 
 way, but I guess I'll get in somewhere all right." 
 
 For the third time the major fell into his arm- 
 chair, but this time he exclaimed : 
 
 " No, I can't see even though Flossie doesn't 
 add anything to the problem at all I can't see in 
 any imaginable manner of speaking where we 
 all . ." 
 
VI 
 
 rPHERE came a knock upon his door quite 
 -*- a loud knock and he started forward in his 
 low chair and sat listening, with his right hand 
 almost on the floor. 
 
 "That'll be Olympia ! If she's seen Flossie 
 going ..." The knocking was repeated more 
 determinedly, and he called, " Come in," because 
 he imagined that Olympia would not really care 
 to come into his room. Mrs. Kerr Howe came in. 
 
 She was in a purple Japanese kimono with a 
 swallow worked in gold thread over each breast, 
 and a great roll and bow at the back, her maid 
 having learned how to put kimonos on in Tokio. 
 She tripped in and her smallness gave a certain 
 Japanese air of littleness, resignation, and obedience 
 and remarked : 
 
 " I said we must have an explanation before 
 to-morrow morning. I've come for it." And 
 she sat herself down on the edge of the arm-chair 
 facing the major's and looked at him. The contrast 
 between her appearance and her mental attitude 
 always surprised the major so much he was 
 always expecting some sort of soft fluffiness to 
 
 126 
 
THE PANEL 127 
 
 come out somewhere that he simply gave up 
 the situation. He let drop any attempt to under- 
 stand and to control it with the words : 
 
 " I'm simply too flabbergasted to be able to 
 try to explain anything. I couldn't explain the 
 theory of lateral strains in bridges. And there 
 seem to be ten or a dozen women determined to 
 go after me here. I never knew such a place. 
 It's like being maVl." And suddenly he really 
 felt a sort of glad madness he couldn't imagine that 
 he was not at least going to get some fun out of it. 
 
 Mrs. Kerr Howe said : 
 
 " Well, I'm glad you feel some remorse." 
 
 " Oh, it's not exactly remorse," he answered 
 almost gaily. " It's like having indigestion very 
 badly. So that you can't eat with ten dishes 
 that you'd like to eat very much just under your 
 poor nose." 
 
 Mrs. Kerr Howe said contemptuously : 
 
 " I suppose you think that I am one of the ten 
 or a dozen. It's like you to regard yourself as 
 the Grand Turk ! " 
 
 " It's like you, Juliana," the major said, " to 
 say polygamous things of that sort. I wish I 
 just felt like that." 
 
 "No doubt you do," Mrs. Kerr Howe said, with 
 an even deeper note of determination. " But I'm 
 going to have my explanation. There was not 
 time in the train because I wanted to get my play 
 
128 THE PANEL 
 
 settled about. And from what I've seen of Miss 
 Peabody your aunt introduced me to her as 
 your oldest, best, and most affectionate friend, 
 so she's prepared for what's coming from what 
 I've seen of the lady I don't imagine she will 
 leave us much time together to-morrow. So it 
 has got to be now." 
 
 " But, my dear Juliana," the major said, 
 " you've got really to remember that I'm a re- 
 formed character ! " 
 
 " I don't in the least understand you," Mrs. 
 Kerr Howe said ; " I haven't asked you to do any- 
 thing but your simple duty." 
 
 " It's really all I can do to understand myself," 
 the major laughed. " I can only tell you that 
 I vowed to reform the moment I crossed my aunt's 
 threshold. I'm bound to say that, from what 
 I can make of it, she does not seem anxious that 
 I should. But still, that's my job a difficult 
 one, but I'm doing my best." 
 
 Mrs. Kerr Howe pointed to Miss Delamare's 
 slippers that were in the fender. 
 
 " You've been having someone to help you," 
 she said amiably. But the major had noticed 
 her eye on them by the speech before the last. 
 
 " Oh, those ? " he said ; " that's a little present 
 I brought for poor Olympia. She's so liable to 
 cold that I was airing them a little. But I do 
 wish you'd go." 
 
THE PANEL 129 
 
 And then Mrs. Kerr Howe remarked : " Poor 
 fellow ! " 
 
 The major started energetically forward in his 
 chair. 
 
 " Look here," he shouted, " don't you say 
 that. I can stand anything but that. There's 
 nothing the matter with me. I don't want pity." 
 
 Mrs. Kerr Howe was looking down into the 
 fender with what she meant to be an expression 
 of meditative cruelty. " Do you always give 
 people second-hand hearts and presents ? " she 
 asked. " These slippers have been worn, I see." 
 
 " Why of course, Juliana," the major answered, 
 with an engaging air of candour, " I always have 
 presents worn when I bring them from abroad. 
 It saves the customs duty." 
 
 " I see," she said slowly, as if she were working 
 out a riddle ; " you get Flossie Delamare to wear 
 them before you present them to your fiancee. 
 That's what's called standing in another woman's 
 shoes, isn't it ? And to save you the trouble of 
 lying any more I hid in a doorway as she left 
 this room ; I had enough decency not to want 
 to be seen. She did not seem to mind." 
 
 "Mind?" the major asked. "Why should 
 she mind ? She's got a good conscience and a 
 heart of gold." 
 
 " Do you mean to say that I haven't ? " Mrs. 
 Kerr Howe asked. 
 
130 THE PANEL 
 
 " I don't see how you can have," the major 
 said, still with his candid air " coming to a man's 
 rooms like this, and trying to steal him from his 
 fiancee." And then for as a rule his trouble 
 was that he forgot his past inventions he had 
 a brilliant stroke of memory, and he added : " You 
 know, my dear Juliana, you are astonishingly off 
 the track here. It won't wash. It really won't 
 wash. When I said in the train that little Flossie 
 was a sort of half-sister of mine, you thought I 
 was lying. But I wasn't. I wasn't really. It 
 was only what's called intelligent anticipation. 
 You see, my aunt was in this room a short time 
 ago, saying that she meant to adopt Flossie, 
 because she is a dear little thing. And then she 
 went and talked to Flossie, and so, of course, 
 Flossie was naturally excited about it, and wanted 
 to talk to me. And if you don't believe that, 
 you'd better go and ask my aunt if it isn't true. 
 That's what you ought to have understood when 
 I said a sort of half-sister. It is only the president 
 of a Society like yours that could put an evil con- 
 struction on the words." 
 
 " Oh, I have no doubt," Mrs. Kerr Howe said 
 calmly, " you can get your aunt into a tale with 
 you. You're capable of anything in the persuasion 
 line. And I have no doubt Miss Delamare can 
 look after herself." 
 
 " But what about your reputation ? " the major 
 
THE PANEL 131 
 
 asked " what about your reputation if you should 
 be discovered here ? " 
 
 Mrs. Kerr Howe laughed sharply. 
 
 " Oh, I knew you'd take that line," she said ; 
 44 but look here, my friend, we live in the twentieth 
 century, not the eighteenth, and a woman can 
 perfectly be alone with a man without losing her 
 reputation." 
 
 " Oh, you can tell that to my aunt," the major 
 said. 
 
 " So I have," Mrs. Kerr Howe asserted, " and 
 she entirely agrees with me that censoriousness 
 is the worst of the vices." 
 
 " Oh, well," the major said, " you just tell her 
 to-morrow morning that you came to my room 
 at a quarter past twelve at night, and you'll see 
 the fur fly. You aren't going to be her adopted 
 daughter." 
 
 44 Oh, you aren't going to get out of it in that 
 way," Mrs. Kerr Howe said calmly. " I've come 
 here as one man might to another to ask you what 
 you mean to do." 
 
 " Well, I'll tell you what I jolly well mean to 
 do," he answered. 44 I'm engaged to Miss Olympia 
 Peabody, of Boston, Massachusetts, and I mean 
 to be as faithful to her as I can. I used to think 
 that it would be as easy as eating eggs, to be a 
 reformed character under the virtuous roof of my 
 aunt and uncle. But it's more like the temptation 
 
132 THE PANEL 
 
 of St. Antony. I couldn't have imagined that 
 British middle-class families could be this sort 
 of thing. They evidently are, but I never knew 
 anything like it." 
 
 It was at this point that Mrs. Kerr Howe said 
 softly, with a discreet glance on the ground : 
 
 " Aren't you going to kiss me, Teddy ? " 
 
 And the major remarked, with the air of one 
 bathed in monotony : " No, I'm shot if I am ! " 
 
 "Don't you," Mrs. Kerr Howe said, "don't 
 you remember Simla ? " 
 
 " Oh, you are too late at the fair," the major 
 said. " I don't remember Simla. I don't in the 
 least want to remember Simla. The last time I 
 was there was just after some Abor gentleman 
 had shot a rotten little stone-headed arrow into 
 my thigh, and the silly little stone head came off, 
 and the bone sawyers had no end of a job in getting 
 bits of it out for months after I got back to the 
 residency. No, I don't in the least want to re- 
 member Simla." 
 
 " I ought to have been there to nurse you," 
 Mrs. Kerr Howe said. 
 
 "You ought to have been nursing your husband," 
 the major said grimly. " I had an R.C. Sister." 
 
 And again Mrs. Kerr Howe dropped her voice : 
 
 " Don't you want to marry me, Teddy ? " 
 
 " Well," the major said levelly, " speaking as 
 man to man, I don't. I want to marry Olympia. 
 
THE PANEL 133 
 
 That is to say, I don't want to, I've got to. I'm 
 bound in honour, and that's an end of it." 
 
 "But at Simla you said . . ." Mrs. Kerr 
 Howe was beginning. But the major interrupted 
 her in a business-like voice : 
 
 " I never said a single word about marrying 
 you at Simla. I remember every blessed word I 
 did say. How could I have talked about marrying 
 you ? You had a husband, and you weren't a 
 bit more in earnest than I was. You were just 
 flirting with a subaltern to pass the time, and 
 to get conversation to put in your books. Why, 
 you were ten years older than I was then. Of 
 course, you're younger now. But there is some- 
 one else on the scene. I am very sorry you're 
 too late. You said I was to talk to you as a man. 
 So there you've got it. I don't want . . ." 
 
 But he was interrupted in his turn by Mrs. 
 Kerr Howe, who exclaimed : 
 
 " Why ! where did that horrible little dog come 
 from ? " 
 
 And indeed a very small Pekinese spaniel, like 
 a piece of glossy brown hearthrug, was sitting 
 beside the major's chair, and gazing up with 
 adoration at one of his hands that hung over 
 the side. The major sprang up sharply, just in 
 time to see the little animal, that knew his habits 
 very well, crawl under the very low bed. He 
 sprang after it, but it had already disappeared, 
 
134 THE PANEL 
 
 and he was quite unable to move the bed which, 
 with its great carved pillars and heavy walnut 
 canopy, weighed nearly half a ton. 
 
 " Great heavens ! " the major exclaimed, " we're 
 lost. I'm lost you're lost. I knew it would come. 
 Why in the world did you leave the door open ? 
 If I could have caught the little beast, I might 
 have chucked him outside, and thrown boots and 
 things at him till he went back to his mistress. 
 As it is there's no hope." 
 
 Mrs. Kerr Howe drew herself up with an ex- 
 pression approaching as near as possible to one 
 of severe virtue. 
 
 " Do you suppose," she said, " that I was going 
 to be alone with a man at night with a door shut ? " 
 
 " Well, it's usual to shut the door on these 
 occasions," the major said. 
 
 Mrs. Kerr Howe remarked : "I don't know 
 what sort of women you can be used to." 
 
 But the remark failed considerably of its effect, 
 because the major was upon his stomach trying 
 to get under the bed, which was much too low 
 for him. He leaned upon one elbow and glared 
 fiercely at Mrs. Kerr Howe. Mrs. Kerr Howe 
 laughed. 
 
 " I don't see what it matters," she said. But 
 the major waved at her the arm that he was not 
 leaning on, and said violently : 
 
 " What it matters is that I shall lose Olympia. 
 
THE PANEL 135 
 
 She'll be here in a minute, I'll bet my head she 
 will. There's a sort of psychic affinity between 
 her and that little beast under the bed. She says 
 she wakes up in the night and feels cold if it isn't 
 lying on her doormat. I tell you, I shall lose 
 Olympia." 
 
 " Well, I don't care," Mrs. Kerr Howe said. 
 
 " And if you're found here," the major con- 
 tinued, " they'll say you're compromised, and I 
 shall have to marry you." 
 
 " Well, I don't care," Mrs. Kerr Howe repeated. 
 
 " But I tell you this too, Juliana," the major 
 said seriously, " if you're compromised, my uncle 
 certainly won't let Flossie Delamare produce 
 your old play. That's what it will come to." 
 
 Mrs. Kerr Howe suddenly started to her feet. 
 
 " Not produce my play ! " she exclaimed. 
 " But that's infamous ! " 
 
 " That's what will happen," the major repeated. 
 " You ought to have thought of that before you 
 came. My uncle is absolutely devoted to Olympia." 
 
 " I've never heard of such a thing," Mrs. Kerr 
 Howe said. " I'm going at once." 
 
 " That's your beastly artistic pride," the major 
 commented ; " you'd rather have a play produced 
 than even a husband like me. But you're not 
 going down that staircase when there's a twenty- 
 to-one chance that Olympia is coming up it. 
 Listen 1 Listen I " He held up one finger. 
 
136 THE PANEL 
 
 There couldn't be any doubt that someone was 
 coming up the stairs, which were of uncarpeted 
 and polished black oak. " Not another word," 
 the major whispered. " I'll do my best " ; and 
 lying upon his stomach the major began to emit, 
 in a series of melancholy yelps, the name " George"; 
 for in a moment of jocular humour the major 
 had christened his present to Miss Peabody 
 " George Washington." And at the necessary 
 point he called out sharply : 
 
 " Who's there ? " 
 
 An American voice with a highly cultured 
 English accent answered : " It is I, Olympia." 
 
 " Oh, well," the major said, " the father of his 
 country is under my bed, and I'm doing my best 
 to get under my bed, so there, in a manner of speak- 
 ing, we all are." 
 
 He was aware that Mrs. Kerr Howe, behind the 
 great bed curtains, was pressing as close to the 
 wall as she reasonably could. 
 
 " I woke up," Miss Peabody's voice said. " I was 
 awakened by feeling in my bones that George was 
 not in his basket on the mat outside my door. I was 
 convinced that he would be here. May I come in ? " 
 
 The major was getting up on to his knees. 
 " That you certainly may not ! " 
 
 " But why not ? " the voice came from the 
 door. " I can see through the crack that you are 
 fully dressed. I'm coming in." 
 
THE PANEL 137 
 
 The major stormed as fast as he could towards 
 the door, but Miss Peabody was already in front 
 of the fireplace. 
 
 " What a fine room you've got," she said ; " it's 
 so ancestral, so distinguished. Don't you think 
 we could induce Lady Savylle to sell it to us for 
 our home ? " 
 
 The major said and he really was furiously 
 angry : 
 
 " Now this really won't do. You must get out 
 of my room at once. It's unheard of at this time 
 of night. You've never done anything like this 
 before." And he headed her off from going to 
 observe the panel. The room was very dark, 
 since the only light it contained was that of the 
 candle that Miss Delamare had left. 
 
 Olympia said : 
 
 " It's ridiculous of you, Teddy ! It's not as if I 
 was some flighty young girl or one of your dis- 
 solute companions, that I hope you've given up 
 for good. I suppose I can be trusted." 
 
 " No, you can't," the major said. " No one can 
 be trusted at this time of night, and in this lati- 
 tude." 
 
 " You don't seem at all glad to see me," Miss 
 Peabody said. " Aren't you going to kiss me ? " 
 
 The major said : " Oh, damn ! " And then he 
 added : " Look here, Olympia, I'll kiss you with 
 pleasure once you're outside my room. You don't 
 
138 THE PANEL 
 
 understand. You can't possibly understand. This 
 isn't Boston. I can't have things said against my 
 wife. Anyone may be coming in." 
 
 " You don't seem quite master of yourself to- 
 night," Olympia said. " I hope you haven't been 
 taking that nasty champagne again. Who would 
 be likely to come in at this hour ? " 
 
 " Anybody might," the major answered. " It's 
 the custom of the country. Besides, it's the 
 principle of the thing that I object to. It isn't 
 right. It isn't proper." 
 
 And suddenly his face really paled beneath its 
 tan, and his attitude of appalled listening was so 
 intense that even Miss Olympia was silent. From 
 far away he had heard a voice wailing : 
 
 "Teddy! I say, Teddy! I can't find my 
 room." It was only the trained voice of an actress 
 that could have carried so far, and have made the 
 words so distinct. 
 
 " What's that ? " Olympia exclaimed. 
 
 " I don't know," the major said desperately. 
 " It's an echo ! It's a ghost. You never know 
 what goes on in these old houses." 
 
 And first he thought of pushing Miss Peabody 
 out of the room and then he thought of running 
 to the door to keep the other woman out ; but if 
 he did that, he was perfectly certain that Olympia 
 would go to examine the panel, and see Mrs. Kerr 
 Howe, who was hiding behind the curtain. If it 
 
THE PANEL 139 
 
 had only been the purple kimono she would have 
 been invisible in the shadows, but the golden 
 embroidered swallows upon the lady's breast he 
 had observed already to gleam like brass plates. 
 And then Miss Delamare, who had evidently been 
 coming very fast, ran into the room and exclaimed 
 breathlessly : 
 
 " I say, Teddy, I can't find my room. I've 
 been walking for miles and I can't find it. I shall 
 have to stop here all . . ." 
 
 And she stopped suddenly with the exclama- 
 tion : " Oh, I didn't know you'd got company 
 I'm sure I beg your pardon." 
 
VII 
 
 FOR a moment the major was certain that an 
 icy chill passed between the two ladies. He 
 could feel it in his bones. And then he remarked 
 seriously to Olympia : 
 
 " Now you have gone and ruined my reputation ! " 
 
 Miss Peabody had become the fiery red of pure 
 rage. She remarked simply : 
 
 " Nonsense ! You're a man ! " 
 
 " But haven't you," the major said, " haven't 
 you rubbed it into me enough that a man has to 
 be just as careful about these things as a woman ? 
 Aren't you always saying that a man ought to be 
 as spotless as a nun ? Isn't that why you're 
 president of the Boston Society for Reforming 
 Young Men ? And now, Olympia, you have ruined 
 my reputation for ever." 
 
 But Miss Peabody, who was growing redder and 
 redder, positively hissed between her teeth : 
 
 " This appears to me to be nonsense ! " And 
 she snapped at Miss Delamare the words : 
 
 " What are you doing here ? " 
 
 Miss Delamare answered in a quite determined 
 tone : 
 
 140 
 
THE PANEL 141 
 
 " Well, for the matter of that, what are you 
 doing here ? " 
 
 There seemed to the major nothing to remain 
 but to treat the whole thing in a spirit of sheer 
 farce. As far as he could see, his hands were 
 perfectly clean, but he simply wouldn't face the 
 least chance of proving it and for the matter 
 of that, all these women's reputations would be 
 damaged, and there would be a regular beastly 
 scandal, if he didn't do his level best to carry the 
 whole thing off with a hand light enough for the 
 whipping of syllabubs. And he just said : 
 
 " In the name of Heaven, what are we all 
 doing here ? " 
 
 And Olympia, dropping for a moment the cold 
 purity of her training, remarked harshly : 
 
 " Now that's enough of this. I want an ex- 
 planation." 
 
 " That's just," the major said, " that's just 
 exactly what Mrs. Kerr Howe wanted. I'm no 
 good at explanations. You'd better ask Flossie " 
 
 Miss Peabody remarked, as was to be expected 
 of her : 
 
 " Flossie indeed ! " And then she fixed Miss 
 Delamare with a baleful glare. " Well, I'm 
 waiting." 
 
 " So am I," Miss Delamare said. " And if you 
 want to know what I'm waiting for, it's this : 
 I've been brought down to this place in the interests 
 
142 THE PANEL 
 
 of the pure drama. It doesn't seem to me that I 
 ought to be exposed to the chances of finding un- 
 married American ladies in gentlemen's bedrooms." 
 
 " Edward ! " Miss Peabody exclaimed tragically, 
 " are you going to see me exposed to these insults ? " 
 
 " But, my poor dear Olympia," the major said, 
 " she is only expressing what I told you I felt 
 myself. Oh, hang it all, I can't explain, and you 
 can't explain, and Flossie can't explain. Then 
 the only thing left seems to be for Juliana to do 
 it." And he called out : 
 
 " Hi ! Mrs. Kerr Howe, come out from behind 
 that curtain." For it had suddenly occurred to 
 him that there were ten chances to one that the 
 lady would be discovered, and there was nothing 
 in the world to prevent her being used, even at 
 that late date, as chaperon. She must, by all 
 reasonable chances, be under his thumb. And 
 when Mrs. Kerr Howe, with a face pale with rage, 
 came round the foot of the bed, he said to Miss 
 Delamare, whom he could trust to leg him up : 
 
 " Oh, I say, put a screen in front of the fire- 
 place. There will be another woman coming down 
 the chimney, and it might not look decorous." 
 
 Mrs. Kerr Howe exclaimed sharply : 
 
 " Major Foster, I insist upon an explanation of 
 this insult," almost at the same moment as Miss 
 Peabody asked : 
 
 " Who is this person ? " 
 
THE PANEL 143 
 
 The major said, with all the air of a calm intro- 
 ducer : 
 
 " Let me introduce Mrs. Kerr Howe to you. 
 Mrs. Kerr Howe, the authoress of the future pure 
 drama I brought her down by the last train with 
 me." 
 
 "So it appears,'* Miss Peabody exclaimed ; and 
 then she added : "I know all about Mrs. Kerr 
 Howe." 
 
 And at almost the same moment Miss Delamare 
 said, in a quite audible voice : " Good old Teddy ! " 
 
 Mrs. Kerr Howe and Olympia were maintain- 
 ing an ominous silence. And then the major got 
 his idea. He had been thinking of once more 
 claiming Flossie as his half-sister, because his aunt 
 might be trusted to leg him out. Just then what 
 he thought was inspiration came to him, and he 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " That's right that's how I like to see you 
 nice and friendly. We shall all be kissing and 
 making friends in a minute or two." 
 
 " That we certainly shan't," Miss Peabody said. 
 
 He took no notice of her, but drew his breath 
 for a long speech. " Oh, yes, we shall," he began, 
 *' as soon as I've given my explanation. I've got 
 it ! It's as clear as mud. See here, Juliana you 
 came down with me in the last train, didn't you ? 
 And you, Flossie, you were dying to tell me all 
 about your new theatre. And so you, Juliana, 
 
144 THE PANEL 
 
 very kindly offered to chaperon Flossie, and to 
 help explain about the new pure theatre. So 
 there we were, all three comfortably sitting over 
 the fire, when Flossie remembered that she'd for- 
 gotten to bring the plans of the new theatre, so, 
 of course, Flossie went to get the plans, so Juliana 
 was left alone with me. I don't see anything wrong 
 about that. Olympia, do you ? " 
 
 " But why," Miss Peabody asked suspiciously, 
 " did Miss Delamare leave her shoes ? " 
 
 It was then that the major made what was very 
 nearly a fatal mistake. For, as it occurred to him 
 afterwards, nothing would have been easier than 
 to say that Flossie just didn't want to make a 
 noise ; instead of which he said : " Oh, the shoes ! 
 Well, you see, they were a little present I was 
 going to bring you from Paris. And Flossie was 
 wearing them so as to air them, and to prevent 
 my having to pay customs duty. So, of course, 
 when Flossie went away she left the shoes in my 
 grate. Because, you know, they're really your 
 shoes. She couldn't take them. And really, it's 
 you who ought to explain how your shoes come to 
 be found in my grate." 
 
 Olympia again became very red. 
 
 " I don't understand what all this rigmarole is 
 about," she said. 
 
 " Oh, go away and think it over," the major ex- 
 claimed quite cheerfully. " It explains everything." 
 
THE PANEL 145 
 
 " But it doesn't," Olympia exclaimed. " If the 
 shoes are already in this country, why should you 
 have to pay customs duty on them ? " 
 
 " Oh," the major answered, " I was going to 
 give them to you in Paris : it would have been 
 French customs duty." 
 
 "But I'm not going to Paris," Miss Peabody 
 said. 
 
 " Well, you see," the major answered, " I'm a 
 man who likes to be prepared for everything. I 
 thought that one day you might be going to Paris, 
 and so it would be nice to have them already to 
 give you. You ought to regard it as a touching 
 attention on my part, instead of kicking up such 
 a terrible row. And all about a pair of shoes. Oh, 
 Olympia, I'm ashamed of you ! " 
 
 Miss Peabody exclaimed ominously : 
 
 " Major Brent Foster . . ." 
 
 And the major, though he didn't at the moment 
 know why, felt a sudden gush of joy ; neverthe- 
 less he said : 
 
 " Major Brent Foster ! Why don't you call me 
 Edward or even Teddy ? " 
 
 "Because," Olympia exclaimed, "I believe that 
 all is over between us." 
 
 Miss Delamare exclaimed just under her breath : 
 
 " Poor fellow ! " 
 
 For a moment the major felt a strong in- 
 clination to leave it at that. And he would have 
 
146 THE PANEL 
 
 left it if there hadn't come into his rather chival- 
 rous soul the disagreeable idea of all these women's 
 reputations. There would be Miss Peabody going 
 envenomedly about the world miscalling, in a 
 quite skilful manner, not only Mrs. Kerr Howe, 
 but Flossie, who certainly hadn't deserved it. 
 And there would certainly be Mrs. Kerr Howe 
 going about casting doubts on the virtue of poor 
 Olympia, who equally didn't deserve it. So he 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " Oh, do let us have a little common sense ! 
 Haven't I explained everything ? " 
 
 " No, you explained nothing at all," Miss 
 Peabody said. " In the first place, Miss Delamare 
 was just as much astonished as I was to see Mrs. 
 Kerr Howe here at all." 
 
 " Of course, she would be," the major said. 
 " She had been gone from the room a long time. 
 She naturally expected to find that Juliana would 
 be gone when she came back. It wouldn't have 
 been proper for Juliana to be here alone without 
 Flossie to chaperon her." 
 
 "But why," Olympia asked, "did Mrs. Kerr 
 Howe hide behind the bed curtain if she hadn't a 
 guilty conscience ? " 
 
 " Why, that," the major said, " that's because 
 she has such a kind heart. Mrs. Kerr Howe has 
 the kindest heart of any woman that I know. 
 She hid behind the curtain in order to spare your 
 
THE PANEL 147 
 
 blushes, Olympia. She thought you would have 
 been embarrassed if you knew you were discovered 
 coming to my room like this. Because, of course, 
 it makes it so much worse your being engaged to 
 me. So she hid behind the curtain so that you 
 shouldn't know she knew. That explains that." 
 
 He didn't in the least know how it happened, 
 but suddenly he was aware of the voice of her 
 Ladyship's Own Maid, and that the white cap and 
 strings and the white apron of Miss Jenkins were 
 in the room. She was standing at the foot of the 
 bed with her hands clasped before her, and her 
 mysterious confidentially confident air of the 
 really good servant who, being above all the 
 vicissitudes and tragedies of this earth, can put 
 everything right by a suggestion or two. And she 
 was remarking in perfectly level tones : 
 
 " Wouldn't it be much better, sir, just to tell 
 the truth? I'm sure there's nothing in the least 
 wrong about the truth, sir." 
 
 The major suddenly fell down again into his 
 arm-chair. 
 
 " My God, Flossie 1" he exclaimed ; " you can 
 take the screen away from the front of the fire 
 again. She's come by the secret door instead of 
 the chimney ! " 
 
 The high voice of Miss Peabody sounded in the 
 room. 
 
148 THE PANEL 
 
 " Perhaps you will kindly explain your presence." 
 
 Miss Jenkins stood with her hands still down as 
 if she were smoothing out her apron. 
 
 " Well, miss," she said, " I am in charge of this 
 house in the interests of her Ladyship, Mary 
 Countess Savylle." 
 
 " But that doesn't explain why you're here," 
 Miss Peabody repeated. 
 
 " Well, miss, you see, miss," Miss Jenkins 
 continued calmly, " I heard a great noise of 
 quarrelling, if you'll excuse me, miss, and so I 
 came to see if you mightn't be breaking the 
 furniture over each other, if you'll excuse my 
 being so free, miss, since it's my duty to look 
 after the furniture. There are some very valuable 
 things here in this room. Now this panel, for 
 instance, I'm sure her Ladyship would be heart- 
 broken if anything happened to this panel. For 
 the painting, it's by Van Dyke, and if one of you 
 was to throw the other against it, it might be very 
 bad for its works. It works like this, miss, don't 
 you see, miss ? " And Miss Jenkins moved calmly 
 towards the frame of the panel. The knob moved 
 so easily that she appeared, in the gloom, merely 
 to wave her hand and the panel no more to exist. 
 Instead there was the brilliant light of Miss 
 Delamare's room shining in upon them ail. The 
 major exclaimed : 
 
 " Well now, that explains everything" 
 
THE PANEL 149 
 
 But Miss Peabody merely answered : 
 
 " I am not a bit satisfied and nothing is ex- 
 plained." 
 
 " But don't you see," the major asked, " that's 
 Flossie's room that's how she came to be here." 
 
 Miss Peabody said icily : 
 
 " I quite understand that, Major Foster. It 
 only makes it all the worse." 
 
 Once more Miss Jenkins interposed : 
 
 " If I might make so bold, miss, as to ask you to 
 listen to me, miss." 
 
 " That you certainly may not," Miss Peabody 
 said. " I'm not used to being talked to by ser- 
 vants." 
 
 " Of course, that's your American way, miss," 
 Miss Jenkins said, with a calmness of extreme 
 insolence, " you are so democratic. But this is 
 England, miss, and you see I'm a sort of foster- 
 sister to the Countess. And she treating me 
 just as if I were her equal, it makes me a 
 little free in my speech with such old friends 
 of the Countess as Major Foster is. So I hope 
 you'll pardon me, miss, if I ask you to think the 
 best you can of Major Foster, for I'll give you my 
 word of honour, if you'll take a servant's word, 
 being so American-like, and remembering that 
 you're in England, that the major is perfectly 
 innocent, though apt to be a little frivolous in 
 such things as explanations, miss." 
 
150 THE PANEL 
 
 There seemed to have arisen between these two 
 women, from the very sight of each other, one of 
 those bitter hatreds of which only women are 
 capable. And it was with a rudeness really extra- 
 ordinary that Miss Peabody answered : 
 
 " No, I'll certainly not take your word. No 
 servant ever spoke the truth." 
 
 " That's because you're used to American 
 servants, miss, if I may make so bold," Miss 
 Jenkins answered. " We only export inferior 
 ones to the United States. Her Ladyship and 
 such-like keeps the best at home." 
 
 " It's no good talking." Miss Peabody attempted 
 to close the discussion. " I'm not the one to act 
 precipitately. But I shall certainly act." 
 
 " That was what I wanted to suggest, your 
 Ladyship I beg pardon miss," Miss Jenkins 
 said ; " but being so much with her Ladyship it 
 seems to come natural-like. What I wanted to 
 suggest was that you shouldn't come to any deter- 
 mination for a day or two, and then you can keep 
 an eye upon the major and these ladies, and see 
 how they behave." 
 
 At this point Miss Delamare exclaimed again : 
 
 " Poor old Teddy ! " 
 
 " That's precisely what I intend to do," Miss 
 Peabody said. " But don't you imagine that it is 
 at your suggestion. I shall keep an eye on these 
 people. And if I observe anything in the least 
 
THE PANEL 151 
 
 suspicious, I shall break off my engagement with 
 Major Foster at once " 
 
 "What!" the major exclaimed. "Isn't it 
 broken off already ? " 
 
 " I shall break off my engagement at once," 
 Miss Peabody continued, " and then I shall go to 
 Mr. Foster and tell him why ; and that will be an 
 end of your theatre, Miss Delamare, and your play, 
 Mrs. Kerr Howe, and Major Foster will be cut out 
 of his uncle's will." 
 
 " And very proper too, miss," Miss Jenkins said. 
 
 " I didn't ask you to make a remark," Miss 
 Peabody exclaimed ; and then she said clearly 
 and distinctly : " Edward, you may kiss me to 
 show these ladies " 
 
 The major started violently. " Oh ! " he said, 
 and he pointed to the door behind Miss Peabody 's 
 back. "Oh 1 the dog ! George Washington's just 
 run out of the door." 
 
 Miss Peabody wavered for a moment, and then 
 she turned towards the door. She disappeared, 
 and they could hear her calling in the corridor : 
 
 "Georgie! Georgie ! " 
 
 The major pulled out his handkerchief and 
 wiped his forehead. 
 
 " Thank Heaven, that taught me that lie," he 
 said. 
 
 " Didn't the dog go out of the door ? " Mrs. 
 Kerr Howe asked. 
 
152 THE PANEL 
 
 " Not a bit," the major answered cheerfully. 
 " The little beast is under my bed. But if that 
 lie hadn't come into my head I should have had 
 to kiss Olympia and think how painful that 
 would have been for all of you 1 " 
 
 And at that point Miss Jenkins remarked in her 
 cool and business-like tones : 
 
 " I think, if you'll excuse me, Mrs. Kerr Howe 
 and Miss Delamare, you had better just go through 
 that panel into Miss Delamare' s room, and then 
 I'll close it. If the dog is still here, it's likely Miss 
 Olympia will be coming back, and you'd better 
 not be seen here again." 
 
 " Oh, yes," the major exclaimed energetically. 
 " Good gracious ! Go ! Go ! " And he positively 
 pushed them through the opening. Miss Delamare 
 smiled at him maliciously over her shoulder. 
 
 "Aren't you going to kiss us good night, Teddy? " 
 she asked. 
 
 But Miss Jenkins fatefully extended her hand 
 to the frame and the portraits of her Ladyship's 
 ancestors marched right across Miss Delamare' s 
 face. 
 
VIII 
 
 SHE stood looking at him, vaguely lighted 
 from beside the panel, and, for the last time, 
 he sank down into his chair. 
 
 " My girl," he said, " you've saved my bacon." 
 
 She answered, with her calm and superior 
 intonation : 
 
 " I would not be so certain of that, sir." 
 
 " Oh, I'll be as careful as the grave," he said 
 confidently. " A night like this would have been 
 enough to make Solomon himself a reformed 
 character." 
 
 In some way he read on her expressionless face 
 an expression of dubiety. 
 
 " I don't know, sir," she said. " Of course, you 
 may have done the right thing, treating the 
 whole thing as a farce. I recognized what you 
 were doing, sir, but a time seemed to come when 
 it appeared better to tell the truth. That was 
 why I came in. I hope you will excuse it, 
 sir." 
 
 He gave her a keen glance. 
 
 " You were listening all the time," he said. 
 
 " I certainly was, sir," she answered coolly. 
 
 153 
 
154 THE PANEL 
 
 " It seemed to be my duty, sir. I'm not in the 
 least ashamed, sir." 
 
 The major said : 
 
 " It's the sort of thing that most servants would 
 be ashamed of being caught at." 
 
 " But you see, sir," she answered, " I wasn't 
 caught. I just stepped in when it appeared to be 
 useful. I knew something of the sort would happen. 
 Something of the sort always does happen. And 
 I wanted to be able to report to her Ladyship ..." 
 
 The major ejaculated : 
 
 " By God ! you're going to report the whole 
 thing to Nancy Savylle." 
 
 " Every word, sir," Miss Jenkins answered 
 calmly. " That is my duty." 
 
 Again the major said : " Great heavens ! " 
 
 " I don't see," Miss Jenkins said argumenta- 
 tively, and with her eyes on the ground, " if you 
 come to think of it, that you have done anything 
 that would displease her Ladyship. You've tried 
 to be faithful to Miss Olympia as was your duty, 
 though a difficult one. And you've said nothing 
 about her Ladyship that would not have made 
 her a pleased and proud woman if she heard it. 
 And you behaved very very straightforwardly 
 with the other ladies." Miss Jenkins's voice 
 became rather low, and as if she were whispering 
 reflectively, she said : " No, I cannot see that 
 anything will displease her Ladyship." 
 
THE PANEL 155 
 
 The major brightened suddenly. " Why, I 
 believe you're right," he said. " I have been 
 behaving rather creditably. Who would have 
 thought that ? " He remained thinking, and she 
 remained looking down at him. And suddenly he 
 began to feel emotions, quivers and thrills of 
 emotions. He leant forward in his chair and said : 
 " I say, what's your name ? " 
 
 She answered dutifully : " Yes, sir ? " 
 
 And he exclaimed : 
 
 " Won't you let me kiss you ? " It appeared 
 to him at the moment the most desirable, the 
 most important thing in the world. She did not 
 appear to be a servant ; she did not appear even 
 to be a woman but she seemed to be a warmth, 
 a force, a light, a magnet that was drawing him 
 towards her. And it was like being awakened very 
 early and roughly when with a dry voice she said : 
 
 " Certainly not, sir." 
 
 He said dully : 
 
 " No, I suppose not. But it's as true as death 
 that I'm desperately in love with you." 
 
 " I daresay, sir," she answered in a matter-of- 
 fact tone. " But there's Miss Olympia." 
 
 He passed his hand down his forehead. 
 
 " Of course, there's poor Olympia," he said. 
 
 " You wouldn't throw Miss Olympia over ? " 
 Miss Jenkins asked. " Not even for her Lady- 
 ship ? " 
 
156 THE PANEL 
 
 " No," he answered. " No, I certainly couldn't. 
 When, just now, she talked as if she were going to 
 have done with me why my heart jumped in my 
 side . . ." 
 
 " So that if Miss Peabody could be got to throw 
 you . . ." 
 
 The major, who had been inspecting his boots, 
 looked up at her. 
 
 " Now," he said, " we can't decently talk that 
 over. It isn't proper. I don't want to seem to 
 reprove you, but the lady is my affianced wife, 
 and she has done nothing at all to deserve being 
 talked over." 
 
 "Not even just now ? " the girl asked, with a 
 touch of hardness. " When she was so out- 
 rageously rude . . ." 
 
 The major shook his head. 
 
 " No," he answered decisively. " It was per- 
 fectly natural. It was perfectly legitimate. 
 Circumstances looked very suspicious ; there's no 
 denying it. She could not be asked to behave as 
 if she were at a tea-party. She's a good lady ; she 
 has been as kind to me as she knows how. I can't 
 have her talked over if you attracted me a million 
 times as much." 
 
 " I'm talking for her Ladyship," the girl said. 
 " I'm pleading for her Ladyship, if you like. I'm 
 not ashamed. You had a moral duty to her Lady- 
 ship. When you went away you never swore to 
 
THE PANEL 157 
 
 be faithful to her. But wasn't it implied ? Wasn't 
 it implied enough to keep her faithful to you for 
 years and years ? Wasn't it ? Wasn't it ? " 
 
 The major hung his head down. 
 
 " That sort of thing is rather all nonsense," he 
 said. " It isn't three hundred years ago." 
 
 " Oh, yes it is," she answered ; " in that it's 
 three hundred years. Nothing has changed since 
 Jacob served for Rachel. You gave her Ladyship 
 certain rights. You gave her the right to expect 
 that you would ask her again. You never did. 
 Then what's to prevent her Ladyship saying things 
 against Miss Peabody ? What's to prevent it ? 
 There are things to say against her. She's taken 
 away another woman's man." 
 
 " She didn't know it," the major said listlessly. 
 
 " Didn't know it ! " the girl said, with a fierce 
 contempt. " Of course she knows it. Of course 
 she knows that she is a criminal." 
 
 " Now drop that," the major said harshly. 
 
 " A criminal," the girl continued. " Isn't it 
 criminal for a woman of her type to take a man of 
 yours ? Doesn't she know that if she were worthy 
 of the name of a woman she ought to put you back 
 again ? In her heart she knows it. In her heart 
 she felt bad. When she was talking to me or to 
 little Miss Delamare she was odious and rude and 
 hateful. Why ? Because she felt wicked, evil, 
 criminal. . . . She saw you standing beside me 
 
158 THE PANEL 
 
 or her and she knew that it was one like us that 
 ought to be your proper mate ..." 
 
 " Now drop that," the major exclaimed harshly. 
 " Do you understand ? That is not talk for the 
 servants' hall. I've got to behave honourably." 
 
 " What do you know of the servants' hall ? " 
 she said bitterly. " What do you know of honour, 
 for the matter of that ? " 
 
 "I've got my rules," the major said. " Now 
 you go ! " 
 
 " Rules ! " she repeated harshly. " Yes, rules 
 that will let a woman sicken and pine and long 
 and linger as as her Ladyship has done. And 
 wake up in the night and in the morning there 
 would be her pillow wet for the servants to find 
 and know the shameful truth that she was crying 
 for a man that cared more for his rules than all her 
 tears ! That's the thing that shames a woman ! 
 And you never came, and you never wrote, and 
 you never thought ..." 
 
 " Damnation ! " the major really screamed. 
 " Was it me that should go running to a woman I 
 couldn't support ? Was it me that should go 
 running to a woman with castles and jewels and 
 titles to her name ? " 
 
 " Yes, damn your Irish honour ! " she cried 
 out ; " and damn your black novel -reading Papist 
 pride ! It was your duty to come crawling to the 
 woman you adored ; it was your duty to give her 
 
THE PANEL 159 
 
 the pride and joy of tending you. And you you 
 you you give it to another woman. To a 
 wicked stranger that gets all the joy and the pride 
 of tending you who've lived like a hero, and ruined 
 your poor eyes like a scholar, and ruined your life 
 and hers, God help her, like the black evil fool 
 that you are. 
 
 " Now, by the seven wounds of God ..." the 
 major shouted. And then he fell back against the 
 cushions of his chair and began to laugh long and 
 longer and feebly like a child. " And isn't this 
 the grand comedy ! " he said. " Here's you and 
 here's me, and the two of us working ourselves 
 into epileptical passions, when in the hearts of us 
 we're both of us agreeing the one with the other, 
 and for all I know admiring the other more than 
 is good for us at least it's true of me and 
 
 and " He stood up suddenly and stretched 
 
 out his hand. " And it's taking my hand you will 
 be doing I " he exclaimed ; "for I'm no more 
 than a poor Irish fool, that will be always in the 
 wars like the father before me, and his fathers for 
 ever and ever ! And where it will all end, God in 
 his mercy knows ! But I'm sick enough and sore 
 enough to make it good and soothing to me to 
 touch the hand of a good woman that's your own 
 self ! " 
 
 She put her own hand swiftly behind her back. 
 
 " You're agreeing with me," she said, " but not 
 
160 THE PANEL 
 
 I with you. I don't agree that honour demanded 
 what you've done, which is what you have been 
 trying to trepan me into saying. I don't agree, 
 and I will never take you by the hand, Major 
 Brent Foster, and you have no right to ask it of a 
 poor servant until your hand is laid in her Lady- 
 ship's in the pledge of marriage. And that I will 
 work for, and that, by the grace of God, I will 
 bring about." 
 
 The major, whose moods altered like the sky in 
 April, looked at her with laughing eyes. 
 
 " Well, the blessing of God go with you," he 
 said. " But keep this in your obstinate, pretty, 
 lovely head, that never will I ask her Ladyship 
 that question until Miss Olympia gives me up as 
 freely and as frankly as you refused me the kiss 
 I asked of you." 
 
 " She shall do it with ten times the loathing 
 that I did," Miss Jenkins exclaimed, " if I have 
 to burn down this old place to bring it about." 
 
 The major suddenly stretched himself. 
 
 " It's time you were remembering our place," 
 he said. " My girl, this is more like the bogs of 
 Galway than the eastern end of God-fearing 
 Hampshire. We've forgotten ourselves, and that 
 is the truth of it." 
 
 Miss Jenkins drew herself up and smoothed her 
 apron. 
 
 " You wanted some hot water, sir," she said 
 
THE PANEL 161 
 
 " I'll put it outside your door and knock, for you 
 will be wanting to get to bed." 
 
 " Oh, don't spoil me," the major said. 
 
 " It is what her Ladyship would wish, sir," she 
 answered. 
 
 When she was gone the major took off his coat 
 and then loosened his collar. He pulled down the 
 brass blower before the great fireplace, for the 
 fire was out, and a weary noise of wind came from 
 the great chimney. " So that there . . ."he was 
 beginning to say. And then he threw up his hands, 
 and an expression of awe-struck panic came into 
 his face. " By Heaven ! " he called out. " With 
 all this talk of honours and morals, four women 
 have asked me to kiss them this night, and not 
 once have I brought it off." 
 
PART II 
 
FT! HE next two days were uncomfortable, but 
 J- not so extraordinarily uncomfortable as they 
 might have been. Indeed, as far as the major 
 was concerned, it might have been better to call 
 them merely odd. He himself had not any activi- 
 ties. He sat about on knolls in the grounds, and 
 tried to make head or tail of a story called " The 
 Great Good Place " ; but he just simply could 
 not make anything, and his eyes were rather bad. 
 It took the form of a dimness that would last two 
 or three days, and then give place to two or three 
 days in which his vision would be rather clearer 
 than usual. So he really had not anything to do, 
 for the doctors had told him that he was not even 
 to ride much, and riding was the only thing that 
 could have taken him out of the grounds ; for, 
 as for fishing, he could not really see well enough 
 to tie a fly. 
 
 Miss Flossie Delamare spent the whole of her 
 days with Mrs. Foster in a small room giving off 
 the drawing-room. She listened to interminable 
 tales of the irregular actions of the dashing Admiral 
 Brent ; she did her best to learn Berlin wool- 
 
 165 
 
166 THE PANEL 
 
 work, for which she developed no particular talent, 
 and she spent many hours a day with old Mrs. 
 Foster at the piano in the great drawing-room, 
 where the armour stood. Mrs. Foster was doing 
 her best to help Miss Delamare to learn her two 
 songs for the musical comedy called " Pigs is 
 Pigs.*' This successful piece having run for two 
 years and seven nights, Miss Delamare had in- 
 sisted on a fortnight's holiday, during which her 
 place was taken by her friend, Miss Lottie Charles. 
 Miss Delamare said that that old play was driving 
 her regular dotty, and she had insisted on being 
 provided with three new dances and two new 
 songs if she was to go on with the part. But by 
 the time she had reached Basildon Manor she 
 rather wished she had not. Because learning was 
 extraordinarily difficult to her. She never could 
 get words into her head, and she only had five 
 notes in her voice. The song called " Chipper- 
 chipper Chip-chip " did not present so many 
 difficulties as far as Miss Delamare was concerned, 
 but it proved extremely difficult for Mrs. Foster 
 to accompany. The main body of the song had 
 to be performed by the hero of the musical comedy. 
 This had not been the intention of the three authors 
 of the words and the two composers of the music ; 
 but this Miss Delamare had insisted should be 
 so. According to the original intention of the 
 composers and the authors, Miss Delamare was 
 
THE PANEL 167 
 
 to have sung the whole composition, which was 
 a touching story of the love affairs of a tomtit 
 and a dormouse. But Miss Delamare had abso- 
 lutely refused to take so much trouble, so the 
 words had been handed over to the hero, though 
 Miss Delamare had consented to sing the chorus 
 if it was very much simplified. The hero, Mr. Roy 
 Regulin, had absolutely refused to sing anything 
 about a dormouse, or anything about a tomtit. 
 He wanted to sing about his adventures in walking 
 after a young lady with a bandbox in the city 
 of Paris. He was firm, and Miss Delamare was 
 firm ; so that in the end the three worried authors 
 and the two distracted composers left it at that, 
 and a very good song it turned out to be. For 
 the hero related how he met the young lady 
 with the bandbox on the boulevards and how 
 he turned and followed her. And then Miss 
 Delamare sang : 
 
 " But she only said . . . 
 ' Chipper-chipper Chip-chip.' " 
 
 And at the end of every six lines of this song, 
 Miss Delamare, who carried a bandbox, sang 
 her artless refrain. 
 
 The only difficulty was that old Mrs. Foster, 
 whose knuckles were very gouty, and who had 
 never in her youth got beyond playing " Rock 
 me to Sleep, Mother," and " O Woodman, Spare 
 that Tree " Mrs. Foster found it extremely 
 
168 THE PANEL 
 
 difficult to accompany the young lady, to whom 
 she was much attached. Miss Delamare, on the 
 other hand, said she would be absolutely unable 
 to practise the song unless Mrs. Foster could at 
 least pick out the melody with one finger upon 
 the grand piano. They might, indeed, have had 
 the major in, for he had some working acquaint- 
 ance with the instrument, and indeed in the 
 evenings, when they were all properly clothed, 
 he managed to rattle out the tune very spiritedly. 
 But Miss Delamare said that she could not possibly 
 dance the steps in the extraordinarily tight skirts 
 that were all she had got with her. So that it was 
 not, Mrs. Foster said, to be thought of that he 
 could assist at the rehearsals, for Flossie had not 
 got so much as one petticoat in all her eleven 
 boxes. Thus, Mrs. Foster, having had all the 
 Indian rugs taken out of the great drawing-room, 
 and having all the doors locked from half-past 
 eleven till one, did her laborious best to accompany 
 Miss Delamare's capers. 
 
 This had two great advantages. It enormously 
 pleased Mrs. Arthur Foster, who was never tired 
 of seeing Flossie kick the tortoiseshell comb out 
 of the back of her own head. Whereupon her 
 cunningly arranged hair would fall all over her 
 like a waterfall. And, on the other hand, it sim- 
 plified the task of Miss Peabody. 
 
 Miss Peabody, as the major had to observe, 
 
THE PANEL 169 
 
 was simply wonderful. She had the job of keeping 
 four women away from two men, and of keeping 
 in touch with the two men herself all the time. 
 The geographical position of the house did, of 
 course, aid her. Very long and very low, she 
 occupied Mr. Foster's study in the middle, as a 
 sort of strategic position. The house stood on a 
 knoll, with the park dropping away from the front 
 and the kitchen garden behind. And the kitchen 
 garden was so really a place of vegetables that no 
 young couple could possibly have the excuse of 
 wandering into it to admire its beauties, since its 
 beauties consisted mainly of cabbages, and it was 
 too early in the year for the wall fruit to have 
 fallen. Thus there only remained the park. 
 
 Miss Peabody would arrange the major, with 
 a rug tucked round his knees, under a large oak. 
 She would let him have the book called The 
 Sacred Fount to read, and several lumps of sugar 
 with which to feed the deer if they came his 
 way. 
 
 And, planted in the window of Mr. Arthur 
 Foster's study, she could see him perfectly well, 
 and if she caught him so much as standing up, 
 she would be out at the hall door with her smelling- 
 salts ready to offer him before he had walked so 
 much as five steps. In the meanwhile, she knew 
 that Miss Delamare was conveniently shut up 
 with Mrs. Foster, and she could generally perceive 
 
170 THE PANEL 
 
 Mrs. Kerr Howe ranging the distances of the park 
 with a book in her hand, or leaning her proofs up 
 against the trunk of a distant tree which Miss 
 Peabody observed she generally did when she was 
 in the view of the major correcting them in a 
 style and fashion very proper for a professional 
 lady writer. 
 
 And, on the other hand, Miss Peabody had her 
 thumb well down upon Mr. Arthur Foster. The 
 poor old gentleman simply could not move. She 
 had concocted an enormous plan for amalgamating 
 the L.S.S.V. and the B.A.A.S. (London Society 
 for the Suppression of Vice, and the Boston As- 
 sociation for the Abolition of Sin). She had per- 
 suaded the old gentleman that, by amalgamating 
 these two societies, of the one of which he was 
 founder and the other of which she was the per- 
 petual grand mistress, he would be absolutely certain 
 of a knighthood, if not even of a baronetcy, which 
 would probably descend to the major. And she 
 kept the poor old gentleman stuck there over her 
 papers so that neither Miss Delamare with her 
 plans for the new theatre, nor Mrs. Kerr Howe 
 with her arguments in favour of her new play, 
 ever got a chance of speaking to him. Moreover, 
 a quite definite coldness had sprung up between 
 her and Mrs. Arthur Foster, who was understood 
 to back up Miss Delamare and the theatre. It 
 had happened in this way. 
 
THE PANEL 171 
 
 On the first morning of their all breakfasting 
 together, Mr. Arthur Foster had come down first 
 and had opened a letter which had contained a 
 report from the secretary of the L.S.S.V. It had 
 filled him with real enthusiasm. He had not 
 been able to refrain from saying briskly to her 
 Ladyship's Own Maid, who was waiting at the 
 sideboard because Saunders, the butler, had 
 apparently turned his ankle, slipping on a rug 
 on the polished oak floor of the corridor, to which 
 he was unaccustomed because he had spent the 
 last twenty years of his service at The Pines, 
 Hornsey, where the passages were covered with 
 linoleum Mr. Arthur Foster could not refrain 
 from reading his letter aloud to Miss Jenkins, who 
 stood with her hands folded before her in front of 
 the largest ham she had ever seen. 
 
 " Now this is famous ! " Mr. Foster had said ; 
 " it is really excellent ! Listen to this, Nancy, 
 my dear just listen to this." 
 
 Miss Jenkins stood absolutely motionless ; the 
 water in the silver kettle hissed pleasantly ; the 
 kidneys over their spirit-lamp bubbled and shook 
 the silver lid that covered them. 
 
 " This is from Colonel Hangbird," Mr. Foster 
 said, " the secretary of the L.S.S.V. that my wife 
 is president of. Colonel Hangbird says that he 
 is happy to be able to announce that, during the 
 year whilst my wife has been president of the 
 
172 THE PANEL 
 
 society, and lastly, owing to your I mean my 
 generous contributions to its funds, Vice of all 
 kinds in the kingdom has diminished by "01 per 
 cent. What do you think of that, Miss Nancy ? " 
 
 Miss Jenkins regarded the Turkey carpet. 
 
 " You ought to be made a baronet, sir, or a 
 knight at least," she said. And then she asked 
 disconcertingly : " Now how long would it take 
 at that rate for Vice to be rooted out of the 
 country altogether ? " 
 
 Mrs. Foster was just coming in at the door, so 
 Mr. Foster said, " Ssh ! Ssh ! " and then he ad- 
 dressed his wife with the words : " My dear, 
 here's splendid, here's glorious news I Read this 
 letter. Nancy says I mean it's generally con- 
 sidered that I ought to be a baronet, or at least 
 a knight." 
 
 Mrs. Foster took the letter without much en- 
 thusiasm. She read rather slowly, and then began 
 upon the breakfast with which Miss Jenkins 
 served them. Mrs. Foster read with an irritating 
 slowness, but she did bring out at last : 
 
 " Yes, my dear, I have no doubt it is perfectly 
 splendid, but I don't see anything about a knight- 
 hood." 
 
 " Oh, that," Mr. Foster said, " that's just the 
 general opinion. Colonel Hangbird's report will 
 be in all the papers. Just think, I shall be a 
 knight, and people will have to call you 'my lady.' " 
 
THE PANEL 173 
 
 "I don't know that I shall like that," Mrs. 
 Foster replied speculatively. " It will seem rather 
 odd. But how long will it take to get rid of Vice 
 altogether at that rate ? Not so very long, I should 
 think." 
 
 Mr. Foster happened to be coughing over his 
 cup of coffee, and Miss Jenkins remarked with 
 extreme deference : 
 
 " It will take just a thousand years, ma'am." 
 
 But Mrs. Foster was thinking of something else, 
 and she turned eagerly upon her Ladyship's Own 
 Maid. 
 
 " Have you any news of her Ladyship ? " she 
 asked. " Do, if you write to her, repeat and 
 repeat it again, that Mr. Foster and I would be 
 delighted if she will consider this house her home 
 instead of going to the Dower House at all." 
 
 Mr. Foster immediately became exceedingly 
 animated. 
 
 " Certainly, certainly ! " he exclaimed ; " by 
 all means tell her Ladyship that." And then he 
 got up to run towards Miss Peabody, who was 
 entering the room, and he continued his exclama- 
 tion : " How odd it would be if Mrs. Foster were 
 'her Ladyship' and Lady Savylle were 'her Lady- 
 ship' ..." 
 
 Mrs. Foster said rather frostily : " I don't think 
 we should mention our titles in conversation," 
 and she appealed to Miss Jenkins for corroboration. 
 
174 THE PANEL 
 
 Miss Jenkins said : " It isn't usual, ma'am." 
 
 Mr. Foster appealed to her rather wistfully. 
 " Still, every now and then . . ."he said. 
 
 Miss Jenkins continued to gaze remorselessly 
 at the carpet. 
 
 " Hardly even every now and then, sir," she 
 remarked. 
 
 And then Mr. Foster spoke to Miss Peabody. 
 
 " I don't see," he exclaimed, " that it is any 
 use having a title if it is never to be used to you." 
 
 Miss Jenkins remarked : 
 
 " Of course, it's a matter of taste, sir." 
 
 But Miss Peabody, who was rather flushed, 
 pushed in between her host and her Ladyship's 
 Own Maid, and it was only then, after having 
 exhausted this engrossing topic, that Mr. Foster 
 remembered his duty to his guest. His acquaint- 
 ance with polite conversation came mostly from 
 novels, of which he had read several between the 
 ages of eighteen and twenty-three, and his speeches 
 when addressing a lady were apt at times to startle 
 his hearers. Thus he remarked now : 
 
 " Down before all the others and with the flush 
 of youth and beauty on your cheek ! How I envy 
 my nephew, lucky dog ! " 
 
 Mrs. Foster, who was gazing quite angrily at 
 the toast-rack, remarked : 
 
 " I don't believe you're going to get a title, 
 and I don't in the least want one for my own part." 
 
THE PANEL 175 
 
 Miss Peabody said rather fiercely : 
 
 41 1 don't see why Mr. Foster should not have a 
 title. Hasn't he deserved it ? Aren't his suc- 
 cesses and his public services perfectly splendid ? " 
 
 And it was at that moment that there was born 
 in Miss Olympia's mind the idea that Mr. Arthur 
 Foster must certainly be made into a baronet, 
 with a special remainder to his nephew whom she 
 was going to marry. But Mr. Foster was pushing 
 into her hand the letter from Colonel Hangbird. 
 He said : " Now just read that. Isn't that 
 splendid ? " 
 
 As a matter of fact, Olympia commented before 
 reading the letter : 
 
 " I was going to apologize for being so late. I 
 had rather a bad night." 
 
 Miss Jenkins came suddenly forward and asked 
 Miss Peabody if her coffee was to her taste. Miss 
 Peabody paid no attention whatever. She finished 
 reading the letter. 
 
 44 Of course," she said, without any signs of 
 appearing impressed, 44 of course, it's satisfactory ; 
 but it doesn't seem so much to me. You see, we're 
 used to so much larger figures in my country. 
 The last report of my Secondary Society the 
 Boston League for the Reform of Young Men 
 the B.L.R.Y.M. as we call it the last report 
 showed that our roll of members numbers 640,000 
 an increase of 40,000 in the year." 
 
176 THE PANEL 
 
 " Oh, of course,'* Mr. Foster said, with an 
 elaborate politeness in his air, " the B.L.R.Y.M. 
 is a very different thing." 
 
 " And consider what it means," Olympia con- 
 tinued, with that hard enthusiasm which comes 
 over even the mildest of Americans when they 
 talk of the institutions of their own country, 
 " consider what it means. Here are 640,000 young 
 men all between the ages of eighteen and twenty- 
 five, and all reformed characters." 
 
 Mr. Foster interrupted with a rather enthusi- 
 astic " Splendid ! Splendid ! But even our 
 humble L.S.S.V., which we hope soon to be able 
 to call the R.L.S.S.V. . . ." 
 
 But the voice of Miss Peabody, which had 
 continued and which was growing louder and 
 louder, took up her tale : 
 
 " And every one of those 640,000 young men 
 is pledged to abstain from drinking alcohol, playing 
 cards, or any form of gambling, swearing or using 
 loose expressions, attending race meetings " 
 and Miss Peabody's voice swelled until it be- 
 came a formidable organ " frequenting theatres 
 or music-halls, or the society of young women 
 other than their mothers unless they are engaged 
 to them. They pledge themselves all to be at 
 home by ten o'clock at night, unless their pro- 
 fessions call for it . . ." 
 
 Mr. Foster exclaimed : " Glorious ! Glorious ! " 
 
THE PANEL 177 
 
 But Mrs. Foster put in with an amiable deter- 
 mination : 
 
 " I don't quite see, my dear, and I never have 
 seen, my dear, though I have heard you say the 
 same thing at least twenty times, how young 
 people are ever to get engaged at all under your 
 rules. Mayn't they even know their female 
 cousins ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes," Miss Peabody said in her most 
 superior manner ; " they may see them in the 
 presence of some fitting elderly woman." 
 
 " But even that," Mrs. Foster replied quite 
 mildly, " must make it rather difficult when a 
 young man wants to propose. Perhaps that is 
 why the birth-rate in America is decreasing." 
 
 Miss Peabody stood up so suddenly that she 
 upset her large coffee-cup. 
 
 " Mrs. Foster," she said, and her cheeks were 
 exceedingly red, " if I was not perfectly sure that 
 you were not, I should think that you desired to 
 insult me by suggesting that I advocate race 
 suicide." 
 
 " I'm sure I don't know what that means," 
 Mrs. Foster answered. " I may have been sug- 
 gesting that you do advocate it ; perhaps you do. 
 You're not the Pope, that I know of infallible, 
 and all that sort of thing ; though they do say 
 that he isn't infallible after all." 
 
 For a moment Miss Peabody really looked quite 
 
 M 
 
178 THE PANEL 
 
 dangerous, but she sat down after she had shrugged 
 her shoulders. 
 
 "Of course" she addressed herself markedly 
 to Mrs. Foster " a young man can always propose 
 by letter, preferably addressed to the parents of 
 his intended. That is a very great advantage, for 
 a young man cannot afterwards get out of his 
 engagement as he could if the proposal were made 
 in the private circumstances that are usual in 
 Europe. I expect to see a complete disappearance 
 of the Breach of Promise Suit in the United 
 States." 
 
 Mrs. Foster, who was really placable enough, 
 remarked : 
 
 " Oh, well, my dear, I have no doubt that if 
 you are managing the United States, they're well 
 managed. But if you didn't sleep well, I hope 
 there wasn't anything the matter with your room ; 
 because, of course, that's my business, and not 
 these things that I don't understand very well ; 
 though Admiral Brent was accustomed to say, 
 that for all I was so quiet, I could see as far over a 
 millstone as the man who made the sixty-two foot 
 telescope that there was such an excitement about 
 in the year 1852, which was two years after I was 
 born." 
 
 Olympia said : 
 
 " Oh, there was nothing the matter with the 
 room. I had anxieties." 
 
THE PANEL 179 
 
 Miss Jenkins said suddenly : 
 
 " Will you not take some more coffee, miss ? 
 And Miss Peabody answered tartly : 
 
 " I have already signified that I desire more 
 coffee. It stands to reason as I upset my first cup." 
 
 Mr. Foster exclaimed : 
 
 " Anxieties, my honoured guest ? I hope not, 
 Not about money, or er about my nephew ? " 
 
 Miss Jenkins said : 
 
 " Miss Peabody's little dog was lost nearly all 
 night, sir." 
 
 " And enough to make anybody anxious," Mr 
 Foster commented. 
 
 Olympia said coldly : 
 
 "It is extraordinary how servants interrupt in 
 this country. In Boston we should not stand it 
 for a minute." 
 
 Mrs. Foster really trembled with nervousness. 
 
 " Oh," she said, " Miss Jenkins is hardly a 
 servant. She's the Lady Savylle's confidential 
 attendant. She has very kindly consented to wait 
 upon us because the butler has a bad foot, and 
 though I'm sure we have got other servants enough. 
 I don't think I should like to see them handle her 
 Ladyship's best breakfast service, which is all real 
 Spode, though I am sure I don't know what that 
 may mean. But perhaps," she continued anxiously, 
 " your little dog doesn't like your room. Perhaps 
 you would like to change on that account ? " 
 
180 THE PANEL 
 
 Again Miss Jenkins interrupted. 
 
 " Major Foster doesn't like his room. Perhaps 
 her Lady I mean Miss Peabody would like to 
 change with him ? " 
 
 " I shall certainly do nothing of the sort," Miss 
 Olympia said. And then Mrs. Foster continued : 
 
 " As for Edward, I'm perfectly certain he never 
 gave anybody any anxiety in his life, except when 
 he went away like that. I had a long conversation 
 with him last night, and it quite brought the tears 
 to my eyes. We have been cruel and misjudging 
 to him all these years, and I'm not going to sit 
 here and listen to suggestions that he cost anybody 
 any anxiety. It's not fair, and I won't." And 
 Mrs. Foster, who was really shaking with anger, 
 stood up and began to move along the table. 
 " I'm sure," she exclaimed, " if there's anything 
 I can do to make up for it I will ; and it's the 
 greatest satisfaction to me to have him in this 
 house, and I hope he will never leave it." 
 
 " But it's Lady Savylle's house," Mr. Foster said. 
 
 " I don't care," Mrs. Foster replied ; " I don't 
 care whose house it is. It's the house he likes best 
 in the world, and I hope he may never leave it." 
 And Mrs. Foster went agitatedly out of the room. 
 
 It was not really a very comfortable breakfast 
 for anybody. The major and Miss Delamare and 
 Mrs. Kerr Howe drifted in one after the other. But 
 Miss Peabody, who had finished her breakfast at 
 
THE PANEL 181 
 
 least half an hour before, was peering into the 
 breakfast-room from behind the statue of a plaster 
 lion that was gnawing the head off of a plaster 
 serpent. Miss Jenkins was careful to inform them 
 of this fact, and indeed they could see George 
 Washington frisking round the base of the statue 
 itself, so that they all sat as far away as they could 
 from each other at the long table and spoke hardly at 
 all. And after that they had a long day of the park, 
 and the piano, and the proofs, which were corrected 
 against tree-trunks, all of them being under the 
 surveillance of Miss Peabody. And in the evening 
 the major and Mrs. Kerr Howe and Miss Delamare 
 tried to play bridge, but, as Miss Peabody was in a 
 mood to unbend and desired to learn this frivolous 
 and innocent game, they all retired to bed at a 
 quarter to ten, having got with difficulty through 
 one rubber. 
 
 The major had changed his bedroom because, 
 as he remarked to his aunt, the noise in the huge 
 chimney was distracting. And, as he also re- 
 marked, if his day could not have been said to 
 resemble the dazzling glitter of life which he had 
 not been accustomed to lead among the idle and 
 dissolute Smart Set, it could not, on the other 
 hand, be said to differ very much from a rest cure 
 in the country which the doctors had recommended 
 him to take. So that there, as he said, they all were. 
 
182 THE PANEL 
 
 In this singular peace three days passed. They 
 were all really very tired people on whom London 
 had enforced a desire for rest all except Miss 
 Peabody, who desired not so much rest as a period 
 for reflection. Miss Peabody, of course, did not 
 desire that any of Mr. Foster's money which she 
 regarded as already her own should go to Miss 
 Delamare's theatre. At least, she was not quite 
 sure that she did not desire it. She had a natural 
 hatred for Miss Delamare, as she had a natural 
 hatred for most people. And she would very 
 much have liked to have hit Miss Delamare very 
 hard, just as she would very much have liked to 
 have hit Mrs. Kerr Howe harder still. But when 
 it came to the theatre she was not quite certain. 
 She was even not quite certain that she would be 
 able, by any amount of denunciation, to make 
 Mr. Foster abandon that scheme but these were 
 not quite ordinary circumstances. Mrs. Foster 
 was now deeply engaged on the side of Miss 
 Delamare, and although Miss Peabody had the 
 greatest contempt in the world for Mrs. Foster, 
 she could not help seeing that Mr. Foster was 
 really extremely afraid of his wife. And even if 
 Miss Peabody had wanted to smash Miss Delamare 
 and Mrs. Kerr Howe over the incident of the 
 panel, she was not by any means certain that they 
 could be proved to have behaved disreputably 
 enough to give her the handle which she wanted. 
 
THE PANEL 183 
 
 She considered that they had been hateful, but 
 she could not prove that they had acted disreput- 
 ably, without at least showing that she herself 
 had been rather ridiculous. 
 
 She had, indeed, had a haughty interview with 
 Miss Jenkins on the following night, and Miss 
 Jenkins's tale had so exactly coincided with the 
 version that she got from the major himself, that 
 Miss Peabody simply did not see how she could 
 get any kind of guilt out of the proceedings. 
 
 And indeed she was not quite certain that she 
 wanted the new theatre suppressed. She would 
 have liked to have smashed Miss Delamare without 
 smashing the theatre. She had tried to point out 
 to Mr. Foster that Miss Delamare, whose chief 
 accomplishments were that she could sing five 
 notes and kick down her own back hair, was not 
 exactly the sort of person to run a theatre which, 
 she imagined, would be chiefly concerned with the 
 plays of Ibsen and Mr. Bernard Shaw. But when 
 she had propounded this theory to Mr. Foster it 
 simply did not come off at all. Mr. Foster was 
 so entirely ignorant of any theatrical knowledge, 
 that he did not know the difference between 
 musical comedy and the serious drama. Indeed, 
 the only theatrical performance that he had ever 
 seen was that of " Pigs is Pigs " itself, and this 
 performance had so bewildered and so delighted 
 him, and Miss Delamare had kicked about and 
 
184 THE PANEL 
 
 sung with such grace, and smiled with such jolly 
 sweetness, that Mr. Arthur Foster seriously con- 
 sidered that she was not only the greatest, but 
 the nicest and most respectable actress in the 
 world. Mrs. Foster, on the other hand, had several 
 times been taken to performances of Shakespeare 
 by her sister, the admiral's wife, and these per- 
 formances had so terrified or so bored her, since 
 they all appeared to be gouging out each other's 
 eyes, or stabbing someone else in the back, or 
 being an unpleasant ghost, or making incompre- 
 hensible speeches over skulls Shakespeare, in 
 fact, had so terrified and agonized Mrs. Foster, 
 that when she came to see " Pigs is Pigs," and 
 Flossie twirling about and squeaking with her 
 little voice, she really thought that this was, 
 comparatively speaking, heaven. And she had 
 already found Flossie so kind and attentive, and, 
 as it were, daughterly, that she simply told her 
 husband that there was an end of it. He had 
 simply got to consider Miss Delamare as not only 
 the greatest actress in the world, but as absolutely 
 the one most suited to manage the new, pure 
 drama. 
 
 So that when Miss Peabody tried gently to 
 suggest that she could not imagine Miss Delamare 
 playing Nora in " A Doll's House," or the heroine 
 in " Man and Superman," or, for the matter of 
 that, a tragic charwoman who had to be arrested 
 
THE PANEL 185 
 
 by a policeman for stealing a silver box that she 
 had not stolen, she found that Mr. Foster, though 
 he simply did not understand her, regarded her as 
 talking almost blasphemously, since it was an 
 article of faith in that household to consider that 
 Miss Delamare could do anything. Moreover, 
 Mr. Foster was aware that the greatest and most 
 serious Nonconformist Dramatic Critic of the day 
 had several times called Miss Delamare the sym- 
 phonic embodiment of quaint imbecility ; and 
 although Mr. Foster did not in the least under- 
 stand what this meant for the matter of that 
 Miss Delamare herself did not it seemed to be a 
 satisfactory testimonial to some sort of gifts and 
 obvious respectability, since neither Mrs. nor Mr. 
 Foster could imagine the great critic praising any- 
 body who was not at least as respectable as Mrs. 
 Gurney, of Earlham. They were perfectly con- 
 vinced that he would not have soiled his pen by 
 praising anyone who was at all disreputable 
 that was how it struck them ; and Miss Peabody 
 knew quite well that if she tried any further to 
 interfere with this belief, they would simply tell 
 her that, being a foreigner, she could not be ex- 
 pected to understand an institution so thoroughly 
 British as musical comedy. 
 
 In that way she was really up against it, and, as 
 has been remarked, she was not by any means 
 certain that she wanted to stop the new theatre 
 
186 THE PANEL 
 
 altogether. For, remarkable as it appeared to her, 
 the prospect of being married, which for many 
 years had seemed to her to be singularly remote, 
 had operated in an extraordinary manner in 
 changing her point of view. She found, when she 
 questioned herself each night over her diary, that, 
 extraordinary as the confession seemed, she was 
 not any longer half so interested in the suppres- 
 sion of sin. She had actually to write down in the 
 pages of that locked book that now that she was 
 going to have and indeed she was actually having 
 a good time herself, she was not so anxious to 
 suppress the enjoyment of 640,000 reformed young 
 men, Life, indeed, appeared to have an entirely 
 new aspect for Miss Peabody. 
 
 She was beginning in England to discover that 
 there were such things as social amenities, social 
 scales, and social advancements. In Boston she 
 had been a member of a rather disagreeable upper 
 six hundred, but she was beginning to discover 
 that it might be almost more agreeable in England 
 to have the right to go through a door before some 
 other woman. And she was beginning to think 
 that it must be extraordinarily sweet to be called 
 " Your Ladyship." Once or twice when Miss 
 Jenkins had given her this title by a slip of the 
 tongue, Miss Peabody had positively quivered 
 with delight. And Miss Peabody had been ob- 
 serving the manners and customs of the English 
 
THE PANEL 187 
 
 people for long enough to know that the stage in 
 some singular way led to titles. As far as she had 
 been able to discover, every wife of an actor- 
 manager was always " Her Ladyship." So that 
 she was not by any means certain that she desired 
 the scheme for the new, pure theatre to be sup- 
 pressed. 
 
 And even her scheme for the amalgamation of 
 the L.S.S.V. and the B.A.A.S. tended a little in 
 this direction. She was beginning to get tired of 
 these things, and she was beginning to think that 
 she wanted Mr. Foster to drop them too. She 
 could not help seeing that that sort of thing was 
 not really fashionable in England, and she im- 
 agined that, by amalgamating the two societies, 
 putting them under the managership of a pro- 
 fessional philanthropist like Colonel Hangbird, 
 and nominating herself president and Mr. Foster 
 vice-president though they would have nothing 
 whatever of the work of the associations, they 
 would get just as much as ever of the glory, and, 
 at the same time, they would not have attaching 
 to them the sort of snuffy Nonconformist feeling 
 that she perceived to attach to most British phil- 
 anthropists, who generally wore low collars, soft 
 felt hats and untidy beards. Since she had known 
 and become engaged to the major, these adorn- 
 ments of the male being no longer appeared to her 
 as desirable as they had done in the days when 
 
188 THE PANEL 
 
 
 they had seemed to her to be the symbols of purity, 
 benevolence and teetotalism. Alas ! she no 
 longer cared much for any of these three things, 
 for she could not find any particular trace of them 
 in her " intended." 
 
 So that, as she saw her future life, she was going 
 to be a patroness a haughty and aloof patroness 
 of a quite meritorious philanthropic enterprise, 
 and she was also going to be, as Mrs, Edward 
 Brent Foster, quite a distinguished figure in 
 British social life because she would have so much 
 influence with the new theatre. It was an entirely 
 different world. And, indeed, the only use that 
 she had left for the labours of her old life was, that 
 by keeping Mr. Foster hard at work on the amalga- 
 mating of the two societies that she intended to 
 throw over, she kept him also entirely under her 
 thumb, and occupied his study, which commanded 
 a view of the entire parkland territory where a 
 few deer wandered about between the characters 
 of the drama that she was engaged in managing. 
 
 It was just before lunch on the third day that 
 Miss Peabody observed her Ladyship's Own Maid, 
 who was all black and white like a magpie in her 
 cap and apron, marching straight over the green- 
 sward in a bee-line for where the major was sitting 
 under his oak tree. She was coming from the 
 front door, which was at the end, not the middle, 
 
THE PANEL 189 
 
 of the house. And Miss Peabody was out upon 
 the greensward before she had breathed twice. 
 And then all sorts of people turned up. Mr. Foster 
 looked out of the window of his study ; Mrs. Foster 
 and Miss Delamare came out of the French windows 
 of the drawing-room ; Mrs. Kerr Howe, with her 
 long proofs streaming from her hands, was walk- 
 ing swiftly towards the major, and, round the 
 corner of the house, from the direction of the front 
 door, there appeared no less than two policemen 
 with bicycles, and a terrific old gentleman in a fur 
 coat, who sat very high upon an immense horse. 
 And they all of them bore down upon the 
 major. 
 
 And the first sound that struck all their ears 
 was the terrific voice of the old gentleman, who 
 had reined up his brown horse within a yard or so 
 of the major, and was extending his arm in a 
 splendid gesture. 
 
 " Officers," he shouted, " do your duty ! That 
 is the man. Arrest him at once for drunkenness, 
 assault, the use of obscene language, and theft ! " 
 
 They all of them stood absolutely still in the 
 sunlight, except the two policemen, sturdy and 
 pink-faced fellows, who pushed their bicycles 
 bashfully towards the major. They each of them 
 touched the glazed black shades of their caps to 
 him, and, pulling their wallets from behind their 
 backs, produced the one a blue, the other a white 
 
190 THE PANEL 
 
 slip of paper ; and each of them remarked, " Very 
 sorry, sir, a summons, sir." 
 
 The major carefully placed his book-mark 
 between the pages of The Sacred Fount, set the 
 book down on the brown rug upon which he 
 was sitting, extended his hand, and exclaimed as 
 he took the papers : 
 
 " That's all right, that's all right, my good men. 
 Go round to the kitchen and get them to give you 
 some beer." 
 
 The two policemen, with automatic actions, 
 swung their bicycles round and, pushing them at 
 their sides, went away towards the house-end. 
 
II 
 
 TT was Mr. Arthur Foster who broke next the 
 -- spell of appalled silence. He came out of his 
 French window, and when he was near them he 
 called in agitating and panting tones : 
 
 " What's all this dreadful thing ? " 
 
 The major was contentedly, and with attentive 
 expression, reading the two summonses whilst he 
 leant his back against the trunk of the oak tree. 
 But the old gentleman, who was surveying them all 
 triumphantly from the top of his immense horse, 
 shouted out : 
 
 " This abandoned wretch has been visited by 
 his country's laws for the offence of drunkenness, 
 assault, the use of obscene language, and theft ! " 
 
 Mr. Foster threw his hands up to the sky ; Mrs. 
 Foster remarked beneath her breath that Edward 
 really seemed to have been enjoying life in spite 
 of everything ; Miss Delamare laughed so loudly 
 that she really had to hold her sides ; Mrs. Kerr 
 Howe shook her proofs at the old gentleman and 
 remarked : " You infamous old scoundrel ! " 
 Miss Jenkins stood perfectly still, looking at Miss 
 Peabody with a watchful, attentive and question - 
 
 191 
 
192 THE PANEL 
 
 ing expression ; Miss Peabody stood gazing at the 
 major with enormous eyes, and her eyes did not 
 believe and did not understand what they saw. 
 She had observed for one thing, in a sort of a dream, 
 that one of the policemen had, with a sudden, 
 extraordinarily stiff and sharp movement, saluted 
 Miss Jenkins as he went by, and Miss Jenkins had 
 shaken her head and put one finger to her lips. 
 And, in a sort of dream, Miss Peabody had noticed 
 these things with satisfaction, for she considered 
 that they pointed with absolute certainty to the 
 fact that Miss Jenkins had a vulgar intrigue with 
 this policeman, and she considered that this would 
 give her a handle against Miss Jenkins, who was 
 certainly not the sort of person to be the con- 
 fidential attendant upon a lady of title. She re- 
 marked to herself : " I've got you, my lady." 
 And then she shook off her stiffness of consternation 
 and addressed the major in the following terms. 
 She stretched her arms out indeed, and was pre- 
 paring to fall upon his neck, when it occurred to 
 her that as the major was sitting against a tree- 
 trunk, that operation would be not only difficult 
 but probably dangerous. 
 
 " Edward," she said, " I don't for a moment 
 believe these odious and scandalous charges ; but 
 even if they were proved to the hilt, believe that 
 your battered and tried heart should find upon 
 this bosom a resting-place." 
 
THE PANEL 193 
 
 Miss Jenkins looked at the major with a cool 
 and dispassionate glance, and they all heard her 
 remark to Mrs. Foster : 
 
 " Well then, even that's no go, ma'am." She 
 walked away also in the direction of the house- 
 end, and Miss Peabody remarked to herself with 
 satisfaction that the odious creature had certainly 
 gone to rejoin her policeman. 
 
 They all of them made the ejaculation that 
 might have been expected of them, but the major 
 sat against the tree-trunk and just laughed, whilst 
 Mrs. Kerr Howe voluminously explained the 
 situation. 
 
 " My dear thing," the major remarked to Miss 
 Peabody in the dog-cart for the first summons 
 had been returnable for that very afternoon 
 " it's remotely possible that I may be in some sort 
 of a fix, but I can assure you ..." 
 
 " Oh, my dear Edward," she exclaimed, and 
 she was really perfectly in earnest, " you don't 
 need to assure me of anything. I regard you simply 
 as a hero and a hero for my sake. I quite under- 
 stand that you imagined that I should dislike your 
 travelling for many hours alone with Mrs. Kerr 
 Howe. And although that was exceedingly foolish 
 of you for it must be obvious that I haven't a 
 spark of jealousy in my composition, and I hope 
 
194 THE PANEL 
 
 I am above any foolishness of that sort all the 
 same, you have lived entirely in a conventional 
 world, and I quite understand that it was just 
 part of your invariable kindness and consideration 
 for me when you pulled that dreadful old gentle- 
 man into the carriage to act as a chaperon. And 
 I have no doubt that you may have taken a little 
 more champagne than was exactly good for you at 
 lunch because you may have been taking farewell 
 of some of your male friends ..." 
 
 " I assure you, Olympia," the major said, " I 
 was as sober as the twenty judges. I had a boiled 
 mutton chop and some barley water at the Rag." 
 
 " It's impossible, my dear Edward," Miss 
 Peabody continued kindly but firmly, " for me to 
 follow out my train of thought, or even to construct 
 a grammatical sentence, if you will persist in in- 
 terrupting me with statements that are quite 
 unnecessary. I say I simply do not enquire 
 whether you had had too much champagne or not. 
 I have begun to realize, as without doubt you 
 notice, that there are certain things certain 
 customs in this old country which, although they 
 would ill become a gentleman of America, are 
 nevertheless appropriate and necessary for a 
 person of your position in this country. One of 
 these customs I understand is, that when a young 
 man is upon the point of marrying, he gives a 
 farewell entertainment or even a series of fare- 
 
THE PANEL 195 
 
 well entertainments to the bachelor friends of 
 his youth. And I understand that upon these oc- 
 casions a great deal of wine is drunk because, as I 
 have been told, it is the custom for every person 
 present at the table to toast the bride ; whereupon 
 the young man must reply by drinking a full glass 
 of wine with each person present, the phrase, as far 
 as I can remember it, running, ' And no heel-taps.* ' 
 
 " Oh, hang it all, Olympia," the major said, 
 " you've been reading about the eighteenth cen- 
 tury. Modern people never touch anything 
 stronger than barley water at lunch." 
 
 " So that," Miss Olympia continued, with 
 equanimity, " if you were slightly let me say, 
 elevated I can only consider that you were in 
 that sad condition entirely for my sake. And, of 
 course, when it comes to the use of obscene language, 
 I must confess that some of the phrases you use, 
 though in themselves perfectly innocent and 
 having no blasphemous or improper significance, 
 are nevertheless singular and incomprehensible. 
 You are fond, for instance, of saying that someone 
 handed you a lemon ..." 
 
 " Oh, but hang it all," the major interrupted, 
 " that's an Americanism ; I only use Americanisms 
 now and then to make you feel comfortable and 
 homelike. Personally I detest them. To hand 
 anyone a lemon means ..." 
 
 " I am perfectly well aware what the phrase 
 
196 THE PANEL 
 
 means," Miss Peabody said. " It signifies what 
 in English we should term a rebuff or a slap in the 
 face. But you must consider, that to a person not 
 in the least knowing what the phrase may signify, 
 and casting about in his or her mind for an allegoric 
 meaning to such a person supposing you should 
 use the phrase, ' She handed him a lemon and he 
 quit,' as you are fond of doing when you desire to 
 be amusing to such a person the words might 
 seem to connote a reference to the fall of man when 
 Eve handed Adam an apple which, however, was 
 a fruit more exactly resembling a lemon and not 
 an apple at all and our first parents were forced 
 to leave the Garden of Eden ; and, as you are 
 aware, to many old-fashioned people, any refer- 
 ence to Holy Writ is apt to be considered not only 
 blasphemous, but even in this particular case 
 possibly obscene." 
 
 " But I never said anything about handing 
 anybody a lemon," the major said. " I shouldn't 
 among English people. They don't like your 
 American slang. And look here, you say I was 
 drunk ..." The major was about to enter upon 
 an eloquent disclaimer, when the horse that he was 
 driving shied a little because his uncle's motor, 
 which contained Mr. and Mrs. Foster, Mrs. Kerr 
 Howe, Miss Delamare and, beside the chauffeur, 
 Miss Jenkins, passed them rapidly, being bound 
 also for the county town. And when he had 
 
THE PANEL 197 
 
 coaxed the horse to be quiet, it suddenly occurred 
 to the major that to convince his fiancee that he 
 had not been drunk, and that he had not used any 
 obscene language at all, would be to inflict a certain 
 cruelty upon her. For the lady was obviously 
 revelling in the romance of an eighteenth-century 
 situation. She had, she imagined, got hold of a 
 terrific lover who swore, drank with no heel-taps, 
 and swaggered ferociously about the world at the 
 mention of his mistress's name. And, indeed, Miss 
 Peabody continued tranquilly : 
 
 " I don't in this case blame you for having 
 taken too much champagne, and, supposing that 
 you did become rather heated with the old gentle- 
 man and used fierce language when he objected 
 to your having dragged him into the railway- 
 carriage, all the same, since the whole thing was 
 for my sake . . ." 
 
 " Well, Olympia," the major said, " you really 
 have averaged it out pretty well. It's astonishing 
 how perspicacious you've been. I was, of course, 
 a little bit on, but I'm glad you see that the cir- 
 cumstances demanded it in your honour. And, of 
 course, I was absolutely determined to have some 
 sort of chaperon for the sake of your peace of mind, 
 and the old gentleman did become rather violent, 
 and I did answer him back with some ferocity ..." 
 
 " I don't say," Miss Peabody said softly, " that 
 it's at all discreditable to you ..." 
 
198 THE PANEL 
 
 " All the same," the major put in, "I can't 
 exactly acknowledge these things in court." 
 
 " Oh, why not ? " Miss Peabody said, and she 
 appeared decidedly disappointed. 
 
 " Oh, well," the major answered, " I don't want 
 to get a month." 
 
 " I should be just the same to you when you 
 came out," Olympia remarked. 
 
 " Of course, that would be very precious," the 
 major conceded ; " but what should I feel like 
 when I was in ? Besides, there's Mrs. Kerr Howe 
 to be considered. She insists on giving evidence. 
 She wouldn't like it to appear that she travelled 
 with a drunken and disreputable companion. 
 She hasn't got the advantage of knowing as you 
 do that it was entirely for her sake." 
 
 " But still ..." Miss Peabody was beginning. 
 
 " Oh, no, Olympia," the major interrupted, " I 
 can't let it go as far as that. Of course, you're at 
 liberty to tell all your friends in private how 
 creditable the whole thing really was, and how 
 pleasing it must naturally be to you. But I am 
 afraid I've got to defend it. I've wired, in fact, to 
 the guard of the train to come and give evidence, 
 and, of course, that good fellow, not being par- 
 ticularly quick in his perceptions, will give evidence 
 that I was as sober as the twenty judges I have 
 just mentioned." 
 
 " I must say that is rather disappointing." Miss 
 
THE PANEL 199 
 
 Olympia gave up the contest. " But I will say 
 this, Edward, that, whatever happens, I am 
 thoroughly and entirely convinced of your chival- 
 rous attachment to myself, and that I have nothing 
 in the world to complain of with regard to your 
 own proceedings, whatever I may have to say of 
 other people. I never till now met a man with 
 whom I was so entirely satisfied, and I don't 
 suppose I ever shall again." 
 
 " Well, of course, it would be rather awkward if 
 you did," the major said. He gazed hard at the 
 polished metal that decorated the horse's breeching- 
 strap, and he remained lost in reflection. A speck 
 of dust flew into his tender eye, and he realized 
 that he ought not to have been driving at all. But 
 he had wanted to have a talk with Olympia. He 
 had had it. 
 
 He set down Miss Peabody on the front step 
 of the County's Meet Hotel, where the rest of the 
 party were awaiting them, and then he drove 
 round into the inn yard to give up the horse to 
 an ostler. His eye was really hurting him so 
 much that it was all he could do to find his way 
 into the private bar, for very decidedly he needed 
 a drink. The bar was rather dark, and an amiable 
 barmaid gave him a whisky and soda, and then 
 inspected his eyelid which he pulled down, to see 
 if she could discover the speck of dust. At the 
 other end of the counter a man, whom he made 
 
200 THE PANEL 
 
 out only dimly, was talking to a lady whom he 
 could not make out at all. 
 
 " 1 can't say, ma'am," the man said. " I didn't 
 intend to go on the bench at all to-day. I just 
 meant to sit in the well of the court and take 
 notes." 
 
 The major could not hear what the lady said 
 beneath her breath. He only caught the name 
 " Mr. Broadrib," and he recognized that the other 
 man was the Labour Member of Parliament for 
 one of the three constituencies that met in that 
 part of the world. 
 
 " It's no use talking any nonsense, ma'am," Mr. 
 Broadrib said in his metallic voice. " The bench 
 is set on giving your friend three months. And 
 they'll make it six if they get any kind of a chance. 
 I tell you plainly they won't if I can stop it, but I 
 don't know whether I can." 
 
 Again the lady said something. 
 
 "It's no good my going on the bench," Mr. 
 Broadrib said, "if I'm to be out- voted when they 
 retire to consider their decision. You don't know 
 the extraordinary old crowd of oddities they've 
 got together. You know perfectly well that the 
 Lord Chancellor's hand has been forced so that he 
 daren't appoint any Conservative J.P.'s in this 
 part of the world. And in this part of the world 
 there's not a Liberal that's got threepence-half- 
 penny a week to his name. I quite agree with your 
 
THE PANEL 201 
 
 Ladyship that it's a shame there shouldn't be ; 
 but you know what these country districts are, 
 and except in my constituency, you are the only 
 person who dare call herself a Liberal for fear of 
 losing the bread and butter out of her mouth. So 
 the Lord Chancellor has to fall back upon cranks. 
 It's a most extraordinary sight, our bench. They've 
 all got beards like morning mists and hair like 
 sheep's wool that's never been combed. But there 
 it is. There's Mr. Justice Hills. He's a judge of 
 King's Bench, and he goes mad at the sight of an 
 Irishman. And I understand your friend is an 
 Irishman. And there's Sir Arthur Johnson. Of 
 course, as he's the prosecutor, he ought not to sit 
 on the bench, but he'll probably make a jolly good 
 shot at doing so, and you never know what these 
 country justices won't do. Then there's Christopher 
 Sharp, the Privy Councillor. You know him. He's 
 a millionaire squire, and he goes mad at the sight 
 of any man with a decent coat on his back. Social- 
 ism of the cracked variety ! And there's the 
 Honourable Charles Widgeon. He's the second 
 son of the Field-Marshal. He's the gentleman who 
 accused Thomas Atkins of spitting 20,000 Boer 
 babies with bayonets during the South African 
 war. He goes mad at the sight of a soldier. So 
 I'm afraid, whatever happens, your friend is pretty 
 sure of three months, and just as likely as not it 
 will be six." 
 
202 THE PANEL 
 
 The lady whispered again. 
 
 " I tell you, your Ladyship," the man's voice 
 repeated, " that it wouldn't be the least use. I 
 should only be one against three or four if I sat on 
 the bench. They'd out-vote me. The very most 
 that I can do is to listen to the evidence from the 
 well of the court, and telegraph to the Home 
 Secretary the moment the sentence is pronounced." 
 
 The major, rubbing his sore eyes, heard the 
 lady's voice say clearly and distinctly : 
 
 " Why not telegraph to him at once as if the 
 sentence had been pronounced ? Then he might 
 suspend judgment before it is uttered." 
 
 Mr. Broadrib pushed his bowler hat back on 
 his head. 
 
 " That's an idea," he said ; " that's certainly 
 an idea. I have already written to the Home 
 Secretary giving him the details of the case. The 
 point is, that we can't have these tribunals, which 
 are supposed to be Liberal, though they certainly 
 aren't, be made to appear ridiculous. Now can 
 we, your Ladyship ? " 
 
 Again the lady said clearly : 
 
 " I should think it would be extremely bad for 
 the party." 
 
 And the major really started. His eyes were no 
 longer watering, but, before each of them, was the 
 fatal round blur like a mist that had ruined his 
 career. He could not see the barmaid's face ; he 
 
THE PANEL 203 
 
 could not see Mr. Broadrib's face ; by looking 
 quickly downwards he seemed to be able to dodge 
 the blur and to see for a moment his own hands. 
 But that was as far as it went. 
 
 Mr. Broadrib struck the bar counter with his 
 fist. " It's certainly an idea," he said ; and then 
 he added : " Give me a minute or two to think 
 about it. I was never the one to desert a friend, 
 and you fought like a Trojan for me at the election. 
 If I can think of a form of words, I certainly will 
 telegraph to the Home Secretary within these five 
 minutes." 
 
 The lady suddenly disappeared in the deep 
 shadows through a little door that led into the 
 hotel. Mr. Broadrib sat still, looking abstractedly 
 at three scarlet claret glasses that formed the 
 decoration just under his nose. 
 
 " I say," the major finally addressed him, " who 
 did you happen to be talking about ? " 
 
 " About a man," Mr. Broadrib said, " called 
 Major Edward Brent Foster." 
 
 " Well, that's me," the major said. 
 
 " Of course, I knew it was," Mr. Broadrib 
 answered. " I thought you might like to know 
 how the land lay, or I should not have talked like 
 that in a bar." 
 
 The major said, " Oh ! " and then : " I'm very 
 much obliged." Then he asked : " And that lady 
 who appeared to be interested in me who was she ? " 
 
204 THE PANEL 
 
 "That was Lady Savylle of Higham," Mr 
 Broadrib said. " She's an old friend of mine." 
 
 " Well, she was always a confounded Radical," 
 the major commented. " She can afford to be." 
 
 And then he made a clumsy rush towards the 
 dark door through which the lady had disappeared. 
 He upset three high cane stools and stumbled 
 over a copper spittoon. Then he felt his arm 
 grasped by Mr. Broadrib. 
 
 " Look here, my friend," the Liberal member 
 said, " you are not going into court drunk, are 
 you ? " 
 
 " I'm not drunk," the major answered him. 
 "I'm going blind." He tried to look at Mr. 
 Broadrib, but he could not see him. " In the 
 service of my grateful country," he added. 
 
 Mr. Broadrib grasped his arm firmly by the 
 elbow. 
 
 " Then you had better let me take you into 
 court," he said. " Come along with me." 
 
 He marched the major off. 
 
Ill 
 
 THE Lady Savylle of Higham was permitted 
 by the manager of the County's Meet Hotel 
 to watch the proceedings in court from the little 
 generally disused door that communicated from 
 one of the upper passages of the old hotel with 
 the court -room of the old town hall. In the old 
 days the county magistrates had been used to 
 permit any smugglers that were brought before 
 them to escape up a little staircase running up 
 the wall behind Their Worships' backs. If there 
 looked to be any strong evidence against the 
 smugglers, one of the magistrates would just wink 
 at them, and these hardy and desperate fellows, 
 as the newspapers of the day used to put it, would 
 elude the attention of their guards, rush behind 
 the magistrates' bench up the little wooden stair- 
 case, and through the little door into the hotel 
 corridor. And the door would be slammed in the 
 faces of the constables, who were never in any 
 particular hurry to get their noses pinched. 
 
 Nowadays the staircase had been taken down, 
 but the door remained, and Lady Savylle had 
 heard of its existence from a waiter who had been, 
 
 205 
 
206 THE PANEL 
 
 man and boy, sixty years in the service of the 
 hotel. She had given the waiter half a sovereign, 
 and had had the door opened just a little so that 
 she could see well down into the court. The court 
 was a dilapidated place of old panels and decayed 
 woodwork. The smell that came up from it was 
 none of the pleasantest, but the view was quite 
 good. There were a number of people in the court. 
 Mr. Foster and his party, some reporters, a rat- 
 catcher in velveteen, and an old mad lady who 
 muttered and winked. Five quite old gentlemen 
 sat on a raised platform. Four of them, indeed, 
 had, in the words of Mr. Broadrib, beards like 
 morning mist and hair like uncombed sheep's wool. 
 Mr. Justice Hills, however, the chairman of the 
 bench, was so exceedingly bald and so clean- 
 shaven, that his head appeared to have been 
 skinned. And all the five of them had heavy 
 expressions, drooping eyelids, and airs of buoyant 
 ill-temper. The clerk to the justices, a dismal 
 man in a very dirty collar, appeared more de- 
 pressed than anybody else. There were several 
 policemen about the court, and an old man in a 
 very ragged gown. Lady Savylle felt herself to be 
 in the presence of the legal powers of her country 
 in formidable array. 
 
 They dismissed the cases against three poachers, 
 threatening to have the gamekeepers who ap- 
 peared against them prosecuted for perjury and 
 
THE PANEL 207 
 
 forgery. They sentenced a publican, who was 
 accused of permitting drunkenness on his premises, 
 to ten days' imprisonment without the option of 
 a fine. But this sentence the clerk of the court 
 proceeded to revise. They disagreed energetically 
 about a case in which the defendant was said to 
 have contravened the regulations against swine 
 fever ; for two of the magistrates professed them- 
 selves anarchist individualists, and said that the 
 law was preposterous, whilst Sir Arthur Johnson 
 absolutely refused to take the evidence of any 
 inspector. So that case was adjourned. Then 
 Lady Savylle heard a weak voice bleat : 
 
 " Call Edward Brent Foster." 
 
 The major was stepping into a sort of high pew, 
 and a great deal of bustle began ; she could see 
 one of the reporters sharpening his pencil with 
 great jerks, and she wondered why he had not got 
 a fountain-pen. And there really was a moment 
 when Sir Arthur Johnson seemed inclined to sit 
 on the bench, but he descended to the witness-box 
 and gave extraordinary and violent evidence, and 
 with many gestures of a sweeping nature so that 
 he resembled a splendid Viking. And really the 
 story that he had to tell was so coherent and so 
 extravagant, that Lady Savylle really thought 
 that the major must have been committing mad 
 crimes. She had the emotions of a person reading 
 a wild Irish book ; for Sir Arthur had a most 
 
208 THE PANEL 
 
 tenacious memory, and repeated phrase after 
 phrase of the major's with the accuracy of a 
 shorthand reporter. 
 
 The major called the railway guard, who swore 
 that the major was perfectly sober and, in addition, 
 that Sir Arthur was always getting into adven- 
 tures on the 6.48. But the justices would not 
 permit him to continue that part of his evidence. 
 Then the major called Mrs. Kerr Howe, who was 
 at once put into a violent rage by her own par- 
 ticular problem. For she was too frightened of 
 the major's uncle to declare that she was engaged 
 to the major, and extraordinarily unwilling to 
 declare that she was not. And then the justices 
 cut her short and sent her out of the witness-box. 
 What the impression she had made on the court 
 was, Lady Savylle could not gather ; and no one 
 there had any say in the affair but the justices, so 
 that it did not really matter. The trial, indeed, 
 though it was eccentric enough, was not in the 
 least thrilling except for the imposing attitudes 
 of Sir Arthur, and except for Sir Arthur's evidence, 
 it did not take seven minutes two for the railway 
 guard, two for Mrs. Kerr Howe, and three for the 
 major. 
 
 The major went into the witness-box and leant 
 engagingly over the rail when he had taken the 
 oath. The presiding justice told him to stand up, 
 and he stood at attention. Then he began to speak 
 
THE PANEL 209 
 
 " I was travelling by the 6.48," he said, " and 
 without the beginnings of a reflection on her, I 
 was anxious not to be alone with the lady who 
 has just gone out of the box." 
 
 The presiding justice snapped out, " Why ? " 
 and Sir Arthur Johnson from the well of the court 
 called out : 
 
 " That shows the sort of fellow this is ! " And 
 then majestically he looked all round him over 
 his splendid beard. 
 
 " What we want to know," the tired but 
 ferocious gentleman on the right of the bald 
 chairman asked, " is whether you did, or did not, 
 entice the prosecutor into your compartment ? " 
 
 " I invited him," the major said. " I had half 
 a hazy notion that I knew him." 
 
 " You admit, then, that you were hazy ? " the 
 tired but ferocious gentleman on the left of the 
 presiding justice asked. 
 
 " I admit nothing of the sort," the major said. 
 " I wanted a companion ; the old gentleman 
 wanted a first -class corner seat. I had a re- 
 served carriage and I offered him what he 
 wanted." 
 
 " You admit to being drunk," the chairman 
 said. " You admit to enticing the prosecutor into 
 your compartment. Did you, or didn't you, 
 stamp on his toes ? " 
 
 " Of course I stepped on his toes," the major 
 o 
 
210 THE PANEL 
 
 said ; " but it was the merest accident. You 
 might have done it." 
 
 The Lady Savylle suddenly had tears in her 
 eyes ; she did not know why it was. She was 
 looking down upon him, and he was tired and 
 dispirited ; and she felt that he did not care he 
 did not care anything as long as he shielded the 
 reputations of Mrs. Kerr Howe and Miss Delamare, 
 and the feelings of Miss Peabody. She wiped her 
 eyes suddenly, for she just had to wipe them. It 
 affected her like a story she had read frequently 
 in Christmas supplements a story in which a 
 clown keeps his end up thoroughly before the 
 footlights whilst his little daughter is dying at 
 home of pneumonia and starvation. There was 
 Edward Brent Foster playing his part ; amiably 
 and in a voice that just moved her bones. (It felt 
 really like that. When he spoke she seemed to 
 have little electric currents running down the very 
 bones of her arms and feet.) He was just talking 
 to those farcical old men. And yet for half a 
 dozen reasons he must have misery in his heart. 
 
 " So that you admit," the voice of the bald 
 gentleman was saying, " to drunkenness, enticing, 
 and assault. Now about the theft from the book- 
 stalls . . ." 
 
 The clerk to the justices looked up from below 
 and said : 
 
 " Really, my lord, that is a case upon another 
 
THE PANEL 211 
 
 summons and in another court. Your Worships 
 cannot try that ! " 
 
 " It's a question as to the credit of the witness," 
 Sir Arthur thundered. The three old men had all 
 whispered together, and then with an astonishing 
 swiftness the chairman remarked : 
 
 " Two months for the assault, two months for 
 the drunkenness, and two for the use of blasphe- 
 mous and obscene language. The decencies of 
 life must be maintained against these libertines. 
 The sentences to run consecutively." And then 
 he added : " Call the next case ! " and fell back 
 into his chair as if he were exhausted to the point 
 of death. This was his favourite attitude when he 
 had disposed of a case in the King's Bench. 
 
 It was then that Miss Delamare fainted. She 
 fell right off the bench on which she had been 
 sitting with a thud, but with no other sound. And 
 she was so pretty, and so picturesque, that the 
 policeman who had been suggesting to the major 
 that he should leave the dock and go into the door 
 marked " Prisoners," ran away to get a glass of 
 water. Sir Arthur exclaimed : " Infamous ! " 
 though it was not clear whether his remark was 
 addressed to the policeman or to Miss Delamare ; 
 and someone bleated, " Silence ! " to no one in 
 particular. And then Mary Savylle saw a telegraph 
 boy wandering along the high backs of the pen 
 that contained the court. He looked about 
 
212 THE PANEL 
 
 stupidly, and in her excitement she called 
 down : 
 
 " Mr. Broadrib is there ! Mr. Broadrib's there ! " 
 And she found that she had opened the door and 
 was out on the little gallery trying to attract the 
 attention of the Labour Member. And the only 
 person who saw her was the major, who looked up 
 and exclaimed : 
 
 " Nancy ! By God, Nancy ! " 
 
 His eyes, which had been rested because he had 
 closed them long and frequently whilst he waited 
 for his case to come on, had for just a moment 
 grown clearer. He kicked open the door of the 
 dock, jumped clear over the form of Miss Delamare, 
 and stumbled against Sir Arthur Johnson, who 
 had set his shoulder towards the major as if he 
 were an association footballer resisting a charge. 
 It was extraordinarily quick. Sir Arthur had 
 grasped the major's shirt collar, and before Lady 
 Savylle could understand what they were doing, a 
 white linen circlet was in the irrepressible old 
 gentleman's hand, and the major was tumbling 
 over the telegraph boy in the outer passage. But 
 he picked himself up. And then her Ladyship 
 turned and ran. 
 
 She went down the gallery like a lapwing, and 
 turned up some very mouldy stairs ; she found 
 herself in a corridor that had two of its windows 
 broken, and the panes stuffed with straw. She 
 
THE PANEL 213 
 
 pushed open a dilapidated whitewashed door and 
 she heard a scream. A servant in her bodice and 
 petticoat was washing her neck at a cracked basin. 
 
 She exclaimed : "I'm Lady Savylle. Lock the 
 door." 
 
 The servant shivered. " I know your Ladyship," 
 she said, " but I don't believe the door's got a 
 lock." 
 
 " Then put the chest-of -drawers in front of the 
 door," her Ladyship commanded. " A man will 
 be breaking in here a wild, tearing Irishman ! " 
 
 The girl shivered " Oo-oo-oo ! " and sank down 
 upon her truckle-bed. And the whole back of the 
 chest-of-drawers came out when Mary Savylle, 
 who was strong enough, just turned it round and 
 set it against the rotten door. The floor was en- 
 cumbered with the girl's clothes, cardboard boxes, 
 and hairpins in an immense profusion. It was as 
 if the poor girl who possessed nothing else in the 
 world had spent the whole of her poor fortune on 
 these implements of decoration. She took her 
 hand off her heart and remarked : 
 
 " Your Ladyship give me sich a turn ! " And 
 then she added : " But I understand it all ! Your 
 Ladyship is pursued by a too ardent suitor ! " 
 
 " That's what they'd say in novelettes," Mary 
 commented. " But he's not really a bit too ardent 
 only the moment is inconvenient. He has just 
 been sentenced to six months' hard labour." 
 
214 THE PANEL 
 
 " Oh, poor dear," the servant said. " Them 
 crule police ! " Suddenly she jumped off the bed. 
 " If a gentleman's coming here it's best he shouldn't 
 see me in my naked neck and shoulders," she ex- 
 claimed, and she got herself into a black costume 
 that had rusty brown passages and white, split 
 seams. Her Ladyship was listening. 
 
 " There's a noise," she said. 
 
 " Then the sooner I make meself decent," the 
 girl continued, " the better for us all. I shouldn't 
 like a gentleman to see me without my cap and 
 apern." She was covering up the deficiencies of 
 her attire in a passably clean frilled apron, when 
 Mary Savylle asked : 
 
 " Isn't there anything else we could put against 
 the door ? " 
 
 " Nothing," the girl answered, with a profound 
 conviction. " For the bed, if you do seek to move 
 him, all his legs they do fall off, and the washer- 
 stand do be nailed against the wall, having but 
 two to its body, and the way it do spill water is 
 too tragic, for I suppose you wouldn't want your 
 ardent suitor to get wet." 
 
 At that moment the Lady Savylle could not 
 have said what had brought her there. She must, 
 she supposed, have acted in a sudden panic such 
 as makes the eternal woman flee from the eternal 
 man who in primeval days did his courting with a 
 stone axe. 
 
THE PANEL 215 
 
 " Well, I suppose I had better be going," she 
 said. 
 
 " There's someone on the stairs,'* the girl cried 
 out. And then she began to scream. She screamed 
 like the whistle of a locomotive ; she screamed 
 like the maddest wind in ten thousand telegraph 
 wires. The Lady Savylle shut her ears hard, and 
 saw the rotten door fall over the chest-of-drawers ; 
 then the chest-of-drawers fell over, letting out new 
 streams of unsuspected hairpins ; and then the 
 major was trampling over the chest-of-drawers 
 that dissolved beneath his feet. He plunged on 
 the girl in her cap and apron, and shouted out : 
 
 " Nancy darling, I've got you now ! This silly 
 disguise can't deceive me any more." 
 
 The girl continued to scream systematically, 
 monotonously, and without emotion, as if she 
 were a pig being taken to market and having the 
 time of its life, whilst the major held her in a firm 
 grasp. 
 
 And then the word " Infamous ! " sounded 
 through the room. Sir Arthur Johnson, quite out 
 of breath but still triumphant, was crashing 
 through the remains of the drawers and the card- 
 board boxes. He roared : " This is the sort of 
 thing ! Seduction of a poor servant in the very 
 arms of justice ! " And then he cried : " Officers, 
 come up 1 " 
 
 The Lady Savylle moved across to the major. 
 
216 THE PANEL 
 
 She touched his arm that encircled the girl, and 
 said in his ear : 
 
 " If you want Mary Savylle, I am Mary Savylle !" 
 
 He looked round at her with an unseeing glance. 
 
 " I can't see you," he said. " I only saw the 
 cap and apron. Because they're white," he added. 
 
 His arms released the servant, and she sank 
 down on the bed. The bed collapsed like an over- 
 burdened camel, and there were two frightened 
 policemen in the doorway. Sir Arthur thundered : 
 " Officers, advance ! " and the girl stopped scream- 
 ing. It was as if a tap in her had been turned off, 
 and the sudden silence was like a pain. 
 
 The major looked unseeingly at the girl. ct You 
 must be her Ladyship's maid ! " he exclaimed, 
 with a sort of wonder and awe. " What an extra- 
 ordinary thing." 
 
 " I've got too weak a heart," the girl answered. 
 " The doctor he say that excitement would kill me. 
 But it's worth it to be her Ladyship's maid and 
 live in a novelette and then die sudden ! " 
 
 The major repeated in an awed voice : 
 
 " Extraordinary ! though the other night . . . 
 I could have sworn the other night ..." Then 
 he tried to look at Mary Savylle. " I can't see 
 you," he said. " It's the exertion. It's affected 
 my circulation ! My eyes are full of blood ! " 
 
 Sir Arthur shouted : " Enough of this blasphe- 
 mous foolery ! Officers, do your duty ! " 
 
THE PANEL 217 
 
 The frightened policemen did nothing at all. 
 Mr. Broadrib walked into the room ; he took hold 
 of the major's elbow. 
 
 " You'd better go back to the dock," he said in 
 metallic but calm tones. " They've determined 
 to revise your sentence." He added to one of the 
 policemen : " Here, you ! Lead this gentleman back 
 to the dock. Be careful with him ; he's blind." 
 
 And the major was led away with his dazed and 
 puzzled expression. The Lady Savylle looked at 
 Mr. Broadrib. 
 
 " Oh, my good man ! " she exclaimed, and her 
 face was lamentable. " If he's blind . . ." 
 
 And suddenly she stretched out her arms and fell 
 upon Mr. Broadrib's broadcloth shoulder. She 
 wept passionately and passionately. 
 
 " There ! There ! " Mr. Broadrib said in the 
 tones of an old woman comforting a child for a 
 lost doll. " It's curable ! I've seen many cases of 
 it in Africa. Only make him a happy man and let 
 him live at ease ..." 
 
 The servant, who had begun to cry, crawled 
 sitting along her broken bed and began to kiss 
 Lady Savylle' s motionless hand that hung against 
 Mr. Broadrib's side. 
 
 " If faithful service though, with but a weak 
 heart, for the doctor he says it is so . . ." she 
 began to blubber out, and she pressed her wet 
 cheek against the hand. 
 
218 THE PANEL 
 
 But Sir Arthur Johnson, who had remained 
 triumphant and majestic, exclaimed to the two 
 women : 
 
 " Now you perceive the results of debauchery 
 and feather-headedness. That infamous scoundrel 
 is struck blind in the midst of his excesses ; he is 
 overwhelmed by the laws of his country, and you 
 are two betrayed and abandoned women ..." 
 
 Mr. Broadrib looked round over the Lady 
 Savylle's head that was still upon his shoulder. 
 " Oh, go away for a silly old goat," he said. " Didn't 
 you hear me tell the fellow that his sentence is to 
 be revised ? " 
 
 " Yes," Sir Arthur answered, with a splendid 
 unconcern. " I told them they must give him 
 another year, and they will." 
 
 " Well, you run away and see," Mr. Broadrib 
 said. 
 
 Sir Arthur looked him hard in the eyes. 
 
 " You mean," he gasped, " that you have been 
 meddling ! Infamous ! " He rushed from the 
 room and they heard him exclaiming " Infamous ! " 
 all down the stairs. 
 
4 
 
 IV 
 
 rilHE major was taken back to Basildon, 
 wrapped up like a bale of merchandise, in 
 the motor ; and it fell to Miss Peabody to be driven 
 by the major's uncle in the dogcart. For Miss 
 Peabody had been deeply offended by Mrs. Foster 
 in the well of the court. Mrs. Foster had wept 
 over the condition of Miss Delamare when she 
 fainted, and this had appeared to Miss Peabody to 
 be excessive. She had said that she was the person 
 to be considered, as it was her fiance who was to 
 be sent to prison, not Miss Delamare's. And Mrs. 
 Foster had snapped out that she loved little Flossie's 
 little finger better than the whole of Miss Peabody's 
 body, and so did the major, and so did everybody 
 with eyes in their heads. The words were uncon- 
 sidered and spoken in emotion, but Miss Peabody 
 treasured them up. 
 
 The trial had been resumed and concluded with 
 an air of extraordinary solemnity. The three 
 justices upon the bench looked more tired and 
 more tempestuous than ever ; but they had re- 
 ceived a telegram addressed to Mr. Broadrib and 
 communicated to them which was couched in 
 
 219 
 
220 THE PANEL 
 
 extraordinarily vigorous terms from the Home 
 Secretary. And they realized that the eyes of two 
 great parties would certainly be upon them. They 
 were going to act with the dignity that their 
 country and the civilized world expected from 
 them. Twenty minutes before they had been 
 in a very different case ; they had been pre- 
 siding in an obscure court over an obscure 
 allegation against an obscure member of the 
 wealthy classes. 
 
 The moment the major was again in the dock, 
 Mr. Justice Hills, who had by now remembered 
 that he was a judge of the King's Bench, remarked 
 peremptorily : 
 
 " Have you anything to say why sentence should 
 not be pronounced on you ? " 
 
 The major remarked : "I thought you had 
 pronounced sentence ; I don't care tuppence. 
 You obviously can't do anything so ridiculous as 
 to sentence me to six months' imprisonment for 
 offences that I never committed." 
 
 Mr. Justice Hills appeared to be paying him no 
 attention. " The offences that you have com- 
 mitted," he said, " are very serious, and we might 
 take into consideration also your disrespectful 
 conduct to the court in leaving the dock before 
 the end of the trial. But taking into consideration 
 the fact that a female connection of yours had 
 become indisposed, and that you were only acting 
 
THE PANEL 221 
 
 in the interests of common humanity in desiring 
 to fetch restoratives for the lady ..." 
 
 " But I wasn't doing anything of the sort," the 
 major said 
 
 "... taking into consideration the fact that 
 you appeared" the judge said significantly, " to 
 be going to fetch restoratives for the lady, we shall 
 pass over that portion of your conduct. The 
 sentence that we have already pronounced upon 
 you was merely by way of showing you what 
 are our powers. It should serve as an excellent 
 warning to all evil-doers who may be tempted to 
 act in the future as you have done in the past." 
 
 " But bless my soul," the major said, " I didn't 
 do anything at all." 
 
 " But taking into consideration your youth and 
 inexperience," the judge said, " and considering 
 also that a distinguished ornament of this bench " 
 here Mr. Justice Hills bowed in the direction of 
 Mr. Broadrib " has seen fit to intercede for you, 
 and to explain that you have suffered what it is 
 customary to call ' considerable hardship' in the 
 service of your country, we are ready to use the 
 powers of reconsideration that the law has given 
 into our hands, and to apply to you the First 
 Offenders Act. You are discharged." 
 
 " Well," the major said, " I guess the First 
 Offenders Act was never more fittingly applied. 
 For wasn't it the first offence of the sort that was 
 
222 THE PANEL 
 
 ever tried ? to offer an old gentleman a corner 
 seat in one's reserved carriage for that's the only 
 offence that has been proved against me." Then 
 he stepped down out of the dock and gave the 
 blushing policeman half a sovereign. 
 
 There was a great deal of tension in the Manor 
 House that night, for, during her drive in the dog- 
 cart, Miss Peabody, who was not in the least 
 satisfied with the course the trial had taken, took 
 occasion to insist that Mr. Arthur Foster should 
 refuse absolutely to sign the contract for the new 
 theatre. She took occasion also to say many things 
 that completely destroyed the character of Miss 
 Delamare. For what had most irritated her in the 
 things of the trial had been the fact that Miss 
 Delamare had fainted and not she herself. This 
 appeared to her to be the most disgraceful episode 
 in the disgraceful career of that actress, for she 
 considered that the fainting fit w r as an absolute 
 proof of what she called " Guilty Relations " 
 between Miss Delamare and the major. So that, 
 when he got down from the dogcart, Mr. Arthur 
 Foster went straight to his wife's room and an- 
 nounced that he was determined to refuse Miss 
 Delamare the leading part in the new theatre. To 
 his intense relief his wife said not a single word 
 beyond the one phrase : " Then I advise you not 
 
THE PANEL 223 
 
 to say a word of it to Miss Delamare." But there 
 was a sort of steely, enigmatic manner about the 
 lady that seriously alarmed Mr. Foster. He 
 attempted to explain the motives of his resolve, 
 but Mrs. Foster only answered : " It's your own 
 money, I suppose. You can do what you like with 
 it. You had better go away now ; I want to give 
 orders about Edward's dinner. He won't come 
 down this evening ; he is not well. I shan't, 
 either ; I'm not well, and Flossie will dine with 
 me. She's not well." 
 
 And the moment Mr. Foster was gone Mrs. 
 Foster rang the bell and told her maid to tell her 
 Ladyship's Own Maid that if Miss Jenkins was at 
 liberty, she would come and see Miss Jenkins in 
 the housekeeper's room. And she followed so hard 
 on the heels of her own maid, that she was in Miss 
 Jenkins's room before the servant had got the 
 words out of her mouth. She said, with the remains 
 of the dignity which she had been bestowing upon 
 her husband : 
 
 " I'll trouble you, Miss Jenkins, to arrange that 
 I have another room, and that my things are re- 
 moved from mine to-morrow morning." And 
 then, the servant being gone from the room, she 
 said : "I really can't help it, Miss Jenkins ; either 
 that woman goes, or I do." And she burst into a 
 flood of tears. 
 
 Miss Jenkins settled her down into her arm- 
 
224 THE PANEL 
 
 chair before the fire. She produced a small green 
 phial that contained sedative drops ; she dropped 
 six of these on to a lump of sugar and she put the 
 lump of sugar in Mrs. Foster's mouth. 
 
 " You will feel better in three minutes," she 
 said ; " and during those three minutes you had 
 better just cry, ma'am." 
 
 The room was small and square and comfortable, 
 and Mrs. Foster cried on, letting her tears fall into 
 the fender. Miss Jenkins stood calm and erect on 
 the other side of the table that had a red baize 
 covering. She looked down at her fingers and 
 reflected. 
 
 " Of course, ma'am," she said at last, " if you 
 really wanted Miss Peabody ejected from this 
 household, I can do it for you ! ' ' 
 
 Mrs. Foster looked up from the fire-place. 
 
 "If I want it ! " she exclaimed. " I want 
 nothing else ; nothing else in the world. That 
 woman is the ruin of all our lives, and if I spoke 
 discourteously to her in the court, which I couldn't 
 help, being carried out of myself by anxiety for 
 Flossie for I said to her, meaning Miss Peabody, 
 that I loved Miss Delamare's little finger better 
 than the whole of Miss Peabody's body though 
 it would be more proper to say that I hate the 
 whole of Miss Peabody's body and soul and mind 
 and machinations, for she's plotting and plotting 
 and plotting and so did the major love Flossie 
 
THE PANEL 225 
 
 better, though I'm not saying that he's in love 
 with her, and so would anybody who had a feeling 
 heart in his or her breast. And now she's plotted 
 and plotted until she's got Mr. Foster to desert 
 Flossie Delamare and I'm sure if I wasn't afraid 
 the major would need my money, I'd set Miss 
 Delamare up in a theatre myself. And I'm sure 
 of this, too, that unless Mr. Foster changes his 
 mind in the night without any words spoken by 
 me, I will never sleep in the same room with him 
 again, for he's so weak and so easily influenced, 
 that I'm tired of him and done with him ; and 
 that's the last word I mean to say about this for 
 fear of boring you, Miss Jenkins ; but this isn't 
 the last word I'm going to think, and the thoughts 
 come bubbling up in me like the water of a plum- 
 pudding that I used to watch boiling when I was 
 in my father's house. For the admiral he was a 
 man, though a rampant roaring man, and the major 
 is my own boy, and I'd go to the bad for him ; but 
 as for Mr. Foster . . ." Mrs. Foster suddenly 
 closed her lips tight " well, I can't think of what 
 to say about Mr. Foster, and it wouldn't beseem 
 me to say it if I could think of it." 
 
 Miss Jenkins remained reflecting for quite a long 
 time. At last she said : 
 
 " Of course, I'm willing to attempt to eject the 
 lady ; and if you give me a free hand I'm perfectly 
 willing to try to do it, and do it I think I can. I 
 
226 THE PANEL 
 
 should prefer it just to come about, for, if there's 
 any kind of decency in things, it would come about. 
 But there doesn't seem to be any kind of decency 
 in things. I should have thought that when those 
 charges were made against the major Miss Peabody, 
 considering her nature, would have thrown the 
 major over. But that doesn't seem to be her 
 nature. On the contrary, it's acted in the other 
 way. So that if you ask me, I will do what I can, 
 though it appears to me to be a discreditable 
 action, and that's all there is to it." 
 
 Mrs. Foster suddenly stood up. " A discredit- 
 able action ? " she asked. " Did you ever hear 
 of Saint George ? the gentleman who rescued a 
 naked princess from a dragon. And did you ever 
 hear that that was a discreditable action ? though 
 I can't say that the major is anything like a naked 
 princess, and neither am I for the matter of that. 
 But if you could rescue us from this dragon 
 two of us . . ." and Mrs. Foster broke off, to begin 
 again with extraordinary vigour : " Discreditable ! 
 why she's the ruin . . . why she's the end ..." 
 and Mrs. Foster broke off again and remarked : 
 " But I'm boring you." 
 
 Miss Jenkins still remained standing perfectly 
 still, looking downwards and reflecting. 
 
 " It seems to me, ma'am," she said at last, " that 
 if you are going to separate from Mr. Foster, it 
 would be more proper and seemly that he should 
 
THE PANEL 227 
 
 be moved away from your room than you. And 
 if you agree to that, that's what I'll do to-morrow 
 morning." 
 
 " I daresay you're right, Miss Jenkins," Mrs. 
 Foster said. " You put us all right in everything 
 But that's not the important point. The important 
 point is, what are you going to do about the other 
 thing ? " 
 
 " I don't think I can tell you about that, ma'am," 
 Miss Jenkins answered. 
 
PART III 
 
. ARTHUR FOSTER had a thoroughly 
 uncomfortable dinner with Miss Peabody 
 and Mrs. Kerr Howe. Miss Peabody was exceed- 
 ingly nervous ; Mr. Foster was thoroughly fidgety ; 
 and Mrs. Kerr Howe talked incessantly, and with 
 a hard insistence, about the reform of conventional 
 marriage and her new play, which she had almost 
 persuaded Miss Delamare to promise to stage at 
 the reformed theatre. This made Mr. Foster ex- 
 tremely uncomfortable, for he could not help 
 remembering at every word of Mrs. Kerr Howe's, 
 that he had promised to suppress the reformed 
 theatre. Miss Peabody, on the other hand, was 
 pleased. She thought it really splendid that Mrs. 
 Kerr Howe should prove by her conversation, 
 which could only be regarded as immoral in the 
 extreme, that a reformed theatre conducted by a 
 person like Miss Flossie Delamare would be an 
 exceedingly undesirable thing, not only for the 
 morals of the country, but also for Mr. Foster's 
 own social advancement. 
 
 She wanted, indeed, to explain this to Mr. 
 Foster after dinner. She meant to tell him that 
 
 231 
 
282 THE PANEL 
 
 merely turning out Miss Delamare need not 
 necessarily suppress the theatre altogether. She 
 herself, she wanted to say, was perfectly ready 
 and able to run the theatre. Of course, she was 
 not capable of acting herself, but with the literary 
 education that she had received in Boston, which 
 is the acknowledged metropolis of learning for the 
 world, she would be perfectly able to select the 
 plays which were to be produced, and to engage 
 actresses of serious and not merely frivolous gifts. 
 She was anxious, moreover, to insist that Mr. 
 Foster should enforce his authority and have Miss 
 Delamare ejected from the house next day. She 
 wanted to say that Flossie was leading the major 
 astray. She was absolutely certain of this. She 
 thought she had surprised glances between the 
 major and Miss Delamare in the court. 
 
 But she did not get any conversation with Mr. 
 Foster. He was fidgetingly anxious for some con- 
 versation with his wife, and when Mrs. Kerr Howe 
 said that she was going to get her play and read 
 them the second act, he took the opportunity of 
 going upstairs to his wife's bedroom. Miss Pea- 
 body, also, went to her own room ; so that when 
 Mrs. Kerr Howe returned to the drawing-room 
 she found no audience at all for her play, and she 
 spent the rest of the evening playing the music of 
 " Pigs is Pigs " in solitude amongst ghostly men 
 in armour. 
 
THE PANEL 233 
 
 Mr. Foster did not find his wife in her bedroom. 
 And when he asked her maid, he was told that 
 Mrs. Foster was with the major. He went there 
 himself, and there he found the major in his 
 dressing-gown lying in the long arm-chair before 
 the fire. He had a green shade over his eyes, and 
 Mrs. Foster and Miss Delamare were also there. 
 Mrs. Foster was knitting Berlin wool ; Miss 
 Delamare was making up a ball from a skein that 
 the major held over his two hands, and they were 
 all laughing at the tops of their voices, because 
 Miss Delamare was giving them an exact imitation 
 of the mannerisms of all the three justices, of the 
 policemen, of Mr. Broadrib, and Sir Arthur John- 
 son. Just as Mr. Foster came into the room, she 
 was erecting her head, frowning tremendously, 
 and exclaiming : " Infamous ! " 
 
 The pleasant family tone of the room affected 
 Mr. Foster with a sort of homesickness. He asked 
 to be permitted to sit down, and no one forbade 
 it. And then he informed his nephew that he in- 
 tended to write to The Times to denounce the 
 Lord Chancellor's new experiments in justices of 
 the peace. The major thanked his uncle, and 
 begged him not to take so much trouble ; but 
 Mr. Foster said it was his duty as the sturdy 
 Nonconformist Unionist that he was. Mrs. Foster 
 just sat and knitted, but there was in her eyes an 
 expression so nearly resembling the steely and the 
 
234 THE PANEL 
 
 ironical, that Mr. Foster's nervousness increased. 
 And then once again, Flossie, who was the most 
 good-natured little soul alive, and who perceived 
 that there was in the air a decided strain, began 
 a new series of imitations of the trial. But Mr. 
 Foster observed that, although his wife laughed 
 till the tears came when Miss Delamare said : 
 " Have you anything to say why sentence should 
 not be passed upon you ? " Mrs. Foster became 
 steely and cold in expression whenever he raised 
 his own voice. And after an hour and a half of it 
 he really could not stand it any longer. He said : 
 
 " My dear, I should be really glad of a word 
 with you." 
 
 Mrs. Foster rose in an extraordinarily stiff 
 manner and followed him out of the room. He 
 led her into the next bedroom, turned up the light 
 and closed the door. 
 
 " My dear," he began at once in a hurried and 
 flustered voice, " I want you to understand that I 
 am perfectly reasonable in the step I propose to 
 take. Putting aside the facts of Flossie's past 
 history, I have just been listening to the plot of a 
 play by Mrs. Kerr Howe ..." 
 
 Mrs. Foster interrupted him suddenly and dis- 
 concertingly : 
 
 " If you can find it in your heart to say any- 
 thing against that little creature that's sitting in 
 there with my Edward ..." 
 
THE PANEL 235 
 
 " I wasn't saying anything at all against her," 
 Mr. Foster exclaimed : " but this play of Mrs. 
 Kerr Howe's that she has promised to put on . . ." 
 
 " She hasn't promised to put on any play by 
 Mrs. Kerr Howe at all," Mrs. Foster said. " She 
 hasn't promised, and she isn't going to." 
 
 14 But it's a terrible play," Mr. Foster remarked. 
 
 " It's no good talking, Arthur," his wife 
 answered, " and I'm not going to talk. If your 
 own heart doesn't tell you what's right and proper, 
 you're not the man I took you for, and there's an 
 end of it. I won't hear another word." 
 
 " But consider the whole of the circumstances," 
 Mr. Foster said. " Consider that we could not 
 possibly have Miss Delamare in the house when 
 Edward is married to Olympia. Consider all the 
 trouble it would make. Consider the scandal it 
 would cause if Olympia objected. Surely, surely, 
 we've got to consider that splendid and gifted 
 woman before the private wishes of any other 
 member of the household. You haven't got any- 
 thing to say against that, have you ? " He paused 
 for some reply from his wife, but there came none. 
 
 There was beginning a babble of voices from the 
 corridor. 
 
 " That appears to me to be the first thing to be 
 considered," Mr. Foster repeated " Surely you 
 will not deny that ! " 
 
 " The first thing that seems to me to be con- 
 
236 THE PANEL 
 
 sidered," Mrs. Foster said maliciously, " is that, 
 by your silliness, Flossie and Edward have been 
 left alone in his bedroom, and that your fine madam 
 has discovered them there. You can hear her 
 pretty voice . . ." 
 
 And there was no mistaking the fact that the 
 raised tones of Miss Peabody were coming from 
 somewhere at no great distance. 
 
 They went side by side into the next room. 
 
 " This is the end," Miss Peabody was exclaiming 
 tragically, in the closing words of a long invocation. 
 
 She turned upon Mr. Foster. 
 
 " Here," she exclaimed, " you have ocular proof 
 of the abandoned nature of this young person. 
 Is it conceivable that any other member of her 
 sex would be found in these circumstances ? " 
 There was such fire in her voice and gestures that 
 Mr. Foster was really slightly alarmed. 
 
 " God bless my soul ! " he exclaimed. " Not 
 in each other's arms ! " 
 
 " And why shouldn't they be ? " Mrs. Foster 
 asked, with an alarming sharpness. It was so 
 alarming that Mr. Foster blurted out : 
 
 " Of course, it would not be a proof of guil 
 of guilty . . ." 
 
 And then Miss Peabody exclaimed " Silence ! " 
 with such vigour that they were all quiet. " They 
 were not in each other's arms," she continued. 
 " Why should they be ? I am not complaining of 
 
THE PANEL 237 
 
 Edward. I trust him implicitly. But it is this 
 abandoned and shameless woman whom I find 
 here that I denounce. I accuse her of creeping 
 after my fiance* on every occasion ; of using de- 
 vices to attract his affection. I accuse her ..." 
 
 " Really, Olympia," the major began, but she 
 took no notice ; and for a minute they were 
 talking together. Miss Peabody's voice came out 
 triumphant. 
 
 " A woman who is capable of putting herself 
 into such a situation ..." 
 
 " Of course, my dear lady," Mr. Foster said, 
 "it is very shocking. But still there are . . . 
 there are extenuating circumstances . ." 
 
 Miss Peabody said " What are they ? " with 
 such violence that Mr. Foster forgot completely 
 all that he had meant to say. And she continued 
 triumphantly : "A woman who will come to a 
 man's rooms ..." 
 
 And then Miss Delamare stood up. 
 
 " Don't you forget," she remarked good- 
 humouredly, " that I am not the only pebble on the 
 beach. You're making such a ridiculous exhibition 
 of yourself, that you do not deserve any sympathy ; 
 but still just remember that for a minute." 
 
 Miss Peabody exclaimed " Mr. Foster ! " in 
 tones so tragic that Mr. Foster started towards 
 her side. 
 
 " Now we've had enough of this," Mrs. Foster 
 
238 THE PANEL 
 
 remarked, ana at the same moment Miss Peabody 
 said : 
 
 " We've had more than enough of this," and 
 she looked fixedly at Mr. Foster to remark : 
 " Either Miss Delamare leaves this house, or I do." 
 
 And like an echo Mrs. Foster said : 
 
 " Either Miss Delamare stays here, or I go." 
 
 Miss Peabody really started. 
 
 " Either Miss Delamare stays in this house," 
 Mrs. Foster repeated categorically, " or I go out 
 of it. I hope you understand me." 
 
 Mr. Foster stuttered : " What ? What ? What ? " 
 
 " Yes, what, what, what," Mrs. Foster said 
 hysterically. " For a long time Miss Delamare 
 has been more than a daughter to me. I've never 
 known what it was to have a child, or any comfort ; 
 and now I know it, and I'm not going to give it 
 up. I've had the dear and precious luxury of 
 having my Edward, but that's going to be only 
 for a week or two. He's going to be taken from 
 me by a woman whom I can never like. And I am 
 not going back to my loneliness again. So that 
 it's come to this . . ." And Mrs. Foster looked 
 round her with an expression of courageous terror. 
 " Now here, with all of you to witness, I adopt 
 Miss Delamare for my own child. So long as she 
 stays where I am she is my own dear daughter. 
 And if she is driven out of it I go with her. And I 
 will be her chaperon and wait for her outside the 
 
THE PANEL 289 
 
 theatre, or whatever it is her paid chaperon does, 
 if she'll have me, until world without end." 
 
 For a moment Miss Peabody gazed round her 
 in what might have been called a baleful manner. 
 Then she swallowed a disagreeable lump in her 
 throat. She had got hold of the situation so 
 thoroughly that, although this announcement 
 entirely changed the situation, it did not take her 
 more time than that moment of swallowing to 
 know pretty well where she stood. She knew, for 
 instance, that although she had Mr. Foster very 
 much under her thumb, she had not got him 
 sufficiently there to make him contemplate with 
 equanimity the prospect of a definite breach with 
 Mrs. Foster. She could see that that elderly 
 gentleman was exceedingly " on the jump," as 
 nervous as a man well could be ; and she knew 
 that she would have to do something to calm 
 matters down. She was still determined to eject 
 Miss Delamare from the reformed theatre scheme, 
 and she thought she could always influence Mr. 
 Foster sufficiently for that by just forcing it per- 
 petually on his attention that no one would take 
 Miss Delamare seriously enough, if she were left 
 as the acting manageress of the theatre seriously 
 enough to make the theatre any good for Mr. 
 Foster's social advancement. She knew that 
 there she was on pretty safe ground, whereas 
 when it came to attacking Miss Delamare's moral 
 
240 THE PANEL 
 
 character, although she was perfectly certain that 
 Miss Delamare was an infamous woman, she 
 realized that she had not got anything to go upon. 
 She had never heard a single word against Flossie. 
 But Flossie could not be taken very seriously, and 
 a theatre that Flossie ran certainly could not be 
 taken seriously enough to get Mr. Foster a knight- 
 hood as a national benefactor. She remained 
 perfectly determined to oust Flossie Delamare 
 from that family ; but she saw that she had been 
 too precipitate. She would just have to wait till 
 she was safely married to the major. She had 
 time enough in that one action of swallowing to 
 feel what you might call all the elements in that 
 situation, although she certainly did not have 
 time to put them into thoughts. And she just 
 said : 
 
 " Of course, that entirely alters matters alto- 
 gether. Of course, if Mrs. Foster has adopted 
 Miss Delamare, it makes Miss Delamare in a sort 
 of a way almost Edward's sister. So that I can 
 see that various little tokens of affection from 
 Flossie if I might call her Flossie ..." 
 
 " I think you had better call me Florence," 
 Miss Delamare said. " That's my name." 
 
 " . . . any little evidences of affection that 
 Florence may have shown Edward are, of course, 
 upon an entirely different basis." 
 
 " Of course, of course," Mr. Foster said. 
 
THE PANEL 241 
 
 " And that being so," Miss Peabody continued, 
 " there doesn't seem to me to be anything left for 
 me but to congratulate Florence on the news that 
 I have just heard, and to hope that everything 
 will be very pleasant in the future." 
 
 " So that that's all right, that's all right," Mr. 
 Foster remarked. 
 
 " Things have got to be much more pleasant in 
 the future," Mrs. Foster said hardly. " They've 
 just got to be. I'm not going to have my Edward 
 worried any more. I don't like to see him sitting 
 about here with a green shade over his eyes. I'm 
 going to take him up to town to-morrow in the 
 motor, myself, to see a specialist. I want to hear 
 what's said, and what's to be done for him. I know 
 that excitement and trouble and all these things 
 are bad for his eyes, and there's an end of it." 
 
 For a moment Miss Peabody thought of saying 
 that, in that case, she ought to be allowed to be of 
 the party ; but she suddenly remembered that 
 that would leave Mr. Foster open to the advances 
 of Miss Delamare, and she said instead : " That 
 would be an immense relief to my mind." 
 
 " Well," the major remarked from under his 
 green shade, " you have had the most terrific and 
 edifying scrap over my poor body, and I hope you 
 are admiring the pretty way in which I lay still 
 and didn't poke my nose into it. And now that 
 it's all settled and it's thankful I am that it's all 
 Q 
 
242 THE PANEL 
 
 settled wichout my having to make any exertions 
 for usually it's me who has to take command of 
 all these situations ..." 
 
 "Oh, but Teddy/' Miss Delamare suddenly 
 interrupted him, " it isn't all settled ; it isn't 
 really quite altogether settled. I guess I want an 
 apology an exact, and what you would call a 
 specific, apology from Miss Peabody." 
 
 Olympia exclaimed : " But good gracious, I've 
 apologized and withdrawn everything." 
 
 " Oh, it isn't for me," Flossie said amiably. " I 
 have a public character, and I guess I can stand 
 all the shot that's ever shot against me without 
 the hair of one of my wigs, whether it's auburn or 
 black, standing up on end. No, it isn't for me I 
 want the apology, but it's for Mrs. Foster." 
 
 " But," Mr. Foster exclaimed, " nobody has 
 insulted Mrs. Foster." 
 
 " Well, if you can't see it," Miss Delamare said, 
 " I can. Miss Peabody has accused Mrs. Foster 
 of throwing in the major's way the sort of woman 
 well, the sort of woman that you couldn't leave 
 alone with him ..." 
 
 " Oh, come, Flossie dear," the major said ; 
 " there's quite enough of all this." 
 
 " No, there isn't," Miss Delamare answered. 
 " If Mrs. Foster's going to be my mother, I'm 
 going to stand up for my mother, and things have 
 got to be perfectly good and straight." 
 
THE PANEL 248 
 
 Miss Peabody had started with rage when she 
 heard the major say " Flossie dear." She had 
 sufficient sense to see that she was up against it 
 right absolutely up against it. She would have to 
 apologize to Mrs. Foster at the demands of Flossie 
 Delamare, and that was the bitterest proposition 
 that had ever been put to her in her life. In some 
 odd way it increased her hatred for Miss Delamare 
 a thousandfold. She felt almost, that supposing 
 a knife had been handy she could have plunged 
 it into Miss Delamare's throat. But when Mrs. 
 Foster exclaimed, " I certainly think that some 
 sort of apology ought to be made to me," Miss 
 Peabody said from a dry throat : 
 
 " Of course, I had no idea of insulting anybody ; 
 and it stands to reason that if I have done so I 
 take it all back. I simply did not know what the 
 circumstances were." 
 
 " Well, then, that's handsome," Miss Delamare 
 said ; " and, just to let you know exactly what the 
 circumstances are and I'm sure it ought to put 
 your troubled mind at rest I will just tell you 
 that I love Teddy here just as much as it's possible 
 to love anybody in the world. And how couldn't 
 I ! For when I come to think of what I might 
 have been, if it had not been for Teddy picking 
 me up and putting me on my feet at a time when, 
 as he says, I was a half-starved little rat I just 
 shudder to think about it. So I just love Teddy 
 
244 THE PANEL 
 
 with the deepest gratitude you could possibly get 
 out of a half -starved rat ; but if you think, 
 Olympia, that I'd go poaching on your, or any 
 other woman's, preserves why, you're a much 
 sillier fool than I ever took you for, and you 
 appear to me to be pretty foolish at times." 
 
 " Oh, I quite believe you," Miss Peabody said. 
 And the odd thing was, that she did perfectly 
 believe Miss Delamare and that she hated her 
 in spite of that belief so that she really felt 
 that she was going to faint. She said to Mr. 
 Foster : "If you will just give me that paper of 
 statistics the blue one, A32 I will go to my room 
 and study them." 
 
 With a frightened glance at his wife a sort of 
 agonized appeal to her Mr. Foster went out of 
 the room. This did not please Mrs. Foster. 
 
II 
 
 MISS PEABODY managed to fix up her own 
 particular side of the matter pretty well 
 before the unfortunate Mr. Foster got to bed that 
 night. She really had begun to make him see that 
 Miss Delamare was not the person to run a serious 
 theatre. She had the sense to repeat in private 
 what she had said, as it were, in public, before the 
 others. She withdrew in the frankest and most 
 unlimited way anything that she had ever said 
 against Flossie's moral character. But she pointed 
 out with great insistence that a lady whose highest 
 idea of praise was to be called the " symphonic em- 
 bodiment of quaint imbecility " was not obviously 
 the person to manage a theatre that should stand 
 for great and serious moral truths. Mr. Foster took 
 his stand upon the words " symphonic embodi- 
 ment." These seemed to him to be words match- 
 less and remarkable. He did not exactly know 
 what they meant, but they appeared to him to be 
 very strengthening. But Miss Peabody hammered 
 in the other two words " quaint imbecility." 
 She said that there could not possibly be any 
 mistake as to what those words meant, and they 
 
 245 
 
246 THE PANEL 
 
 certainly did not mean anything that had anything 
 at all to do with a high and serious moral purpose. 
 And the unfortunate old gentleman knew so 
 absolutely nothing about the theatre or about the 
 drama, that Miss Peabody spent an hour and a 
 half in trying to instruct him as to the literary 
 point of view of Boston, which is the centre of the 
 serious world. She committed herself so far as to 
 say that Flossie was a dear little thing. She had 
 to get the words out though they nearly choked 
 her ; but what, she asked, had a dear little thing 
 to do with the high region of starlit thought 
 that was symbolized by such great names as 
 Emerson, Longfellow, Henry Ward Beecher and 
 Nathaniel Hawthorne not to mention Walt Whit- 
 man, and Henrik Ibsen who didn't come from 
 Boston ? She pointed out delicately that although 
 Mrs. Foster was the most amiable person in the 
 world, she was not a lady of whose intellectual 
 opinions Mr. Foster himself had a very high view. 
 And she pointed out, too, that from the beginning 
 to the end of this theatre scheme, Mr. Foster must 
 really have been actuated by his wife's affection 
 for dear little Flossie ; and she got him to see at 
 last that that was not a very rational position, and 
 she got him at last to be exceedingly afraid that he 
 would become the laughing-stock of all the serious 
 and great people who read Emerson and Thoreau 
 and Walt Whitman, and all the other serious 
 
THE PANEL 247 
 
 American, Nonconformist and Puritan writers. 
 And she made him understand that the people in 
 high places who could confer titles read nothing 
 else but the works of these transatlantic moralists. 
 
 It was the greatest triumph of Miss Peabody's 
 career. For, before she let Mr. Foster go to bed, 
 she had extracted from him a promise in his 
 interests, in hers, in Mrs. Foster's, in the major's, 
 and even in dear little Flossie's own interests 
 that he would absolutely suspend any decision 
 about the theatre at any rate for a day or two 
 until Miss Peabody had had an opportunity of 
 talking to all the parties concerned. She was con- 
 vinced that she would be able to make it clear even 
 to Flossie that it could only do her harm to attempt 
 to run a theatre in such a way as to be the laughing- 
 stock of all admirers of Oliver Wendell Holmes or 
 even of Mr. Bernard Shaw, though she could not 
 be quite certain that Mr. Shaw was always serious. 
 
 The praise that she had been forced to bestow 
 upon Miss Delamare made Miss Peabody feel 
 actually ill. Each time that she called Flossie a 
 dear little thing and she did it half a dozen times 
 in the course of the evening her hatred mounted 
 and mounted. And nothing would have prevented 
 her going up to Flossie's bedroom, and giving her 
 the piece of her mind, which she certainly intended 
 to do, save that she really felt herself too shaky to 
 do herself justice. 
 
248 THE PANEL 
 
 Mr. Foster went rather tremblingly up to bed. 
 Mrs. Foster was lying with her head sideways on 
 the pillow and her eyes open. And at first Mr. 
 Foster really intended to do his undressing and to 
 get into bed without saying a word, as indeed was 
 his general practice. But whilst he was loosening 
 his braces he suddenly brought out the words : 
 
 " I've decided to suspend my judgment about 
 the theatre." 
 
 Mrs. Foster, without moving, asked : " That's 
 all, then ? " 
 
 " Well, my dear," Mr. Foster began to protest, 
 " you can hardly expect more than that. There 
 are an immense number of reasons ..." 
 
 " I don't want to listen to any reasons," Mrs. 
 Foster said. " I want to go to sleep. Your money's 
 your own, and your risks are your own ; and that's 
 all there is to say about it." 
 
 And Mr. Foster decided to leave it at that. 
 
Ill 
 
 /"CASTING about in her mind for something 
 V^/ that would aid her cause, Miss Peabody, in 
 the early morning, hit upon the idea that if she 
 used a little skill, she might be able to make very 
 effective use of her Ladyship's Own Maid. She 
 reflected that servants were usually venial, un- 
 truthful and immoral, and she imagined that she 
 might be able to use these qualities in the excellent 
 work of ridding that household at least of Miss 
 Delamare. She even began to foresee that she 
 might even rid it of Mrs. Foster herself, though 
 that was a very great flight. Accordingly, after 
 the major and his aunt had set off in the motor for 
 London, she rang her bedroom bell and told her 
 maid to tell her Ladyship's Own Maid that she 
 would be obliged by an interview, Before, however, 
 she let her own servant go, she enquired as to the 
 habits and customs of Miss Jenkins. 
 
 What she learned was mostly that, in the opinion 
 of her own maid, her Ladyship's Own Maid could 
 scarcely be considered a servant. She was more like 
 a land-stewardess ; the other servants hardly ever 
 saw her. She lived in a housekeeper's room of her 
 
 249 
 
250 THE PANEL 
 
 own. At first she had been waited on by Mr. 
 Foster's servants, but yesterday she had imported 
 an Own Maid of her own from the county town, 
 and she lived more secluded than ever. Miss 
 Peabody's maid informed her that there was 
 nothing very unusual in all this, though her Lady- 
 ship's Own Maid carried haughtiness rather further 
 than most, treating even Saunders, Mr. Foster's 
 butler, at a great distance, though most politely. 
 Miss Peabody's maid knew nothing to speak of 
 about a policeman. She had like all the other 
 servants seen Miss Jenkins talking to a police- 
 man. But they had all wanted to talk to the police- 
 men, and there was nothing to be said against 
 Miss Jenkins talking to him first. She had the 
 right, considering her position, and the officer 
 had touched his cap to her most civil and 
 respectful. 
 
 And when Miss Peabody had said that all this 
 seemed a little strange, the servant had answered : 
 
 " Oh, dear me no, miss," and she added : " Not 
 at all strange, miss, that, in these Radical times with 
 Heaven knows who, and foreigners, and all that, 
 ladies like her Ladyship's Own Maid should be 
 wishful to keep themselves select." 
 
 So that Miss Peabody thought it would be better 
 to leave it at that. She realized that her task was 
 more formidable than she had supposed, and it 
 was with a certain nervousness that she thanked 
 
THE PANEL 251 
 
 Miss Jenkins for coming to her with great prompti- 
 tude. And she added at once : 
 
 " I quite understand, Miss Jenkins, that it would 
 be useless for me to offer you any any pecuniary 
 reward, but I want to ask you, as from one woman 
 to another, whether you did not think that the 
 present position of affairs is very odd." And it re- 
 lieved her immensely when Miss Jenkins answered : 
 
 " Extremely odd, miss." And then Miss Pea- 
 body imagined that Miss Jenkins might not under- 
 stand her, and she sought to make her position 
 quite plain by adding : 
 
 " I mean this affair of Mrs. Foster's adopting 
 Miss Delamare." 
 
 Miss Jenkins answered : "I perfectly under- 
 stand, miss." 
 
 " So that you won't find it strange," Miss 
 Peabody continued, " if I have asked you to give 
 me your own views of it all." 
 
 "It's flattering, miss, if I may say so," her Lady- 
 ship's Own Maid commented. " But as to views. . ." 
 
 "Oh," Miss Peabody said airily, "I thought 
 you might have some little information to give me 
 about . . . well, about just anything. Trifles, you 
 know . . ." 
 
 " Information ! " Miss Jenkins repeated. 
 
 " They say, you know," Miss Peabody said, 
 " that servants let us say onlookers know more 
 of us than we know ourselves. And you might 
 
252 THE PANEL 
 
 
 know something about Miss Delamare just as by 
 accident I happen to have observed the little in- 
 cident of yourself and the policeman ..." 
 
 Miss Jenkins said : " The policeman ! " And 
 then she added : " Oh ! " And Miss Peabody had 
 not the slightest doubt that the small start which 
 Miss Jenkins gave was indicative at least of a 
 perturbed and probably of a guilty conscience. 
 She continued therefore : 
 
 " Of course, I don't attach any importance to 
 such a little thing, but still . . . you understand 
 , . . if it was only that it might be regarded as a 
 mesalliance ..." And then Miss Peabody paused, 
 for she felt she was upon dangerous ground ; but 
 she continued at last : " So that if you had observed 
 any little things trifles in the behaviour of Miss 
 Del. . ." 
 
 " I don't think I have observed anything, miss," 
 her Ladyship's Own Maid replied ; " not anything 
 that one could really mention. . , ." 
 
 " But I think you might as well mention it," 
 Miss Peabody said, 
 
 Miss Jenkins answered : " Oh, no, miss. They're 
 not things that one really could mention. I'm 
 certainly not going to mention them." And Miss 
 Jenkins's lips closed under Miss Peabody's eyes 
 so firmly, that Miss Peabody was convinced that 
 she certainly did not mean to impart any of the 
 unmentionable things that Miss Peabody imagined 
 
THE PANEL 253 
 
 her to have seen. And Miss Peabody had to reflect 
 for a minute. Then she gave up the idea of trying 
 to coerce her Ladyship's Own Maid. It simply was 
 not, she could plainly see, to be done. It would 
 be much better to seek to make a friend of her. 
 She therefore made the following reasoned and 
 subduedly passionate appeal to the feelings of her 
 Ladyship's Own Maid. 
 
 " You will have seen," she said, " and indeed 
 you acknowledge that you have seen, what is going 
 on in this house. You perceive that a young lady 
 without doubt a charming young lady, but 
 still a young lady has obtained such a hold over 
 the mistress of the house, that the entire establish- 
 ment is in danger of misery and may very well be 
 in danger of ruin. I don't know if you know the 
 exact circumstances. This young lady, by means 
 which I won't specify, has obtained from Mr. 
 Foster an absolute promise, not only to start a 
 theatre for her, but to run it for a considerable 
 period of time. Mr. Foster is, of course, an ex- 
 ceedingly wealthy man ; he runs a hundred and 
 fifty bakers' shops. But you probably know as 
 well as I do that the expenses of a theatre are 
 enormous, and that the profits of a hundred and 
 fifty bakers' shops may be very well eaten up by 
 the expenses of less than one theatre. Putting the 
 matter on this basis, this young lady is therefore 
 a very dangerous well, let me say adventuress." 
 
254 THE PANEL 
 
 " I quite follow you, miss," her Ladyship's Own 
 Maid said. 
 
 " And not only that," Miss Peabody continued, 
 " but this person threatens to destroy the peace 
 of the family that until she came into it was ex- 
 ceedingly united. I don't think it can be denied 
 that her influence upon this family is a very un- 
 healthy one. She has obtained over Mrs. Foster 
 an influence which can only be signalized by that 
 one word ' unhealthy,' and although I have no 
 wish to suggest anything against the major, her 
 influence over him is bound to be unhealthy in the 
 long run. Similarly it is not healthy for Mr. 
 Foster an elderly and impressionable gentleman 
 to be closeted for long hours with a young and 
 attractive woman. As for Mrs. Foster, her attach- 
 ment to this person partakes of the nature of an 
 imbecile obsession ; for it is absolutely unnatural 
 that an old woman with no particular brains, pro- 
 vided with a most excellent husband, an attached 
 nephew and a prospective niece-in-law who is 
 ready to treat her with all the kindness that she 
 deserves it is unthinkable that if the old lady 
 were sane and healthy, she should find it necessary 
 to adopt a casual stranger off the streets. I suppose 
 you understand what I mean ? " 
 
 " Well, I can hear what you are saying, miss," 
 Miss Jenkins said. 
 
 " Now I am sure," Miss Peabody continued, 
 
THE PANEL 255 
 
 " that you have the proper feelings that do credit 
 to our common womanhood, and I am sure that 
 you will do all that you can to put an end to this 
 state of things." 
 
 44 I'm sure I'm quite ready to, miss," Miss 
 Jenkins said, " but ..." 
 
 " But ! " Miss Peabody ejaculated almost in- 
 credulously. " Can there be any doubt about it ? 
 Can you have any hesitation about helping to put 
 an end to a state of things that is lamentable and 
 disgraceful to a family in which you are bound to 
 take some interest ? Of course, I am aware that 
 you may say you are in this house only in the in- 
 terests of Lady Savylle. But I think I can take 
 upon myself to say in your mistress's name that 
 her Ladyship would entirely approve of your 
 attempt to break down this infamous position." 
 
 44 Oh, I have no doubt her Ladyship would 
 approve" Miss Jenkins said slowly. " The only 
 thing is, do you feel perfectly certain that things 
 will turn out exactly as you wish ? " 
 
 " I haven't the least doubt of it," Miss Peabody 
 said. "Only give me a hold over this infamous 
 woman, and the old state of peace will descend 
 upon this family." 
 
 44 1 don't know, miss," her Ladyship's Own 
 Maid said ; "I think I know more about family 
 quarrels than probably you do, and it will astonish 
 you how people split up and fly apart." 
 
256 THE PANEL 
 
 " My good girl," Miss Peabody said sharply, " I 
 am probably ten or fifteen years older than you, 
 and I think I may be said to know the world quite 
 well enough to be able to manage my own 
 affairs." 
 
 " Of course, that's as it may be," Miss Jenkins 
 was beginning, when Miss Peabody broke in upon 
 her speech. 
 
 " Do you mean to say," she exclaimed, " but, of 
 course, you wouldn't dare to insinuate that Major 
 Edward will not fulfil his duty to me ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, miss," her Ladyship's Own Maid 
 answered. " That's the one thing in the situation 
 that can be regarded as perfectly certain that 
 Major Foster will stick to his duty." 
 
 " Then," Miss Peabody exclaimed triumphantly, 
 " what do you propose to imagine can happen to 
 me ? You don't suppose that it's my intention 
 again to accuse Miss Delamare of indiscretions 
 before other people ? That, I acknowledge, was 
 a great mistake on my part, but I was carried away 
 by my legitimate indignation. What I wish to do 
 is to obtain in private a hold over Miss Delamare." 
 
 Miss Jenkins said, " Ob ! " and Miss Peabody 
 asked her sharply what she meant. 
 
 " I only mean, miss," her Ladyship's Own Maid 
 said, " that that seems the proper well, let us say 
 the most effective course you can pursue." 
 
 " I'm glad you see that" Miss Peabody said. 
 
THE PANEL 257 
 
 " But it won't be so very easy," Miss Jenkins 
 answered. 
 
 " I have got an absolute trust in you," Miss 
 Peabody retorted. " Of course, I expect you to 
 do it for me." 
 
 " I don't think you can quite expect me to do 
 that, miss," her Ladyship's Own Maid said. 
 
 " But you're acquainted with all the winding 
 staircases and secret doors of this old house in a 
 way no one else here can approach," Miss Peabody 
 answered. " And you do listen at doors. We know 
 from the other night that you do listen at doors." 
 
 44 But I only listen at doors, miss," her Lady- 
 ship's Own Maid said, " when it seems likely that 
 there will be a misunderstanding that I can smooth 
 out. It's my duty to look after the reputation of 
 her Ladyship's house ; and," she continued, " I 
 don't think it's for me to take up the business of 
 a spy, and I should strongly advise you, miss, not 
 to have anything to do with it either." 
 
 44 Spy 1 " Miss Peabody said. 4t Do you wish to 
 insult me ? " 
 
 4t Of course, miss," her Ladyship's Own Maid 
 conceded, 44 that's all a matter of point of view. 
 Of course, if I did it, I should feel like a spy, sup- 
 posing that any harm to anybody was to come of 
 it. But of course you, miss, may feel like a 
 righteous detective about to confront a guilty 
 person." 
 R 
 
258 THE PANEL 
 
 " Of course, that's exactly what I do feel like," 
 Miss Peabody said. 
 
 " Then your conscience is probably all right," 
 Miss Jenkins answered, " and I don't see that 
 there's anything more to be said about it, miss." 
 
 " Do you mean to say," Miss Peabody asked, 
 " that you don't mean to help me ? " 
 
 " I am perfectly ready, miss," her Ladyship's 
 Own Maid said, " to give you the best opportunity 
 in the world for spying upon Miss Delamare and 
 for giving her, as you call it, a piece of your mind. 
 Of course, I don't believe it's much use your trying 
 to spy upon the lady. Let us say that's only 
 because she's likely to be careful as long as she's 
 in this house, and not because she's naturally a 
 virtuous character." 
 
 " I feel it in my bones that she isn't," Miss 
 Peabody said. " I feel it in my bones that, if I 
 could get a quiet talk with her in circumstances 
 which had already compromised her a little, by 
 sheer force of virtuous indignation I could so 
 address her that she would leave this household 
 for good, crushed and overwhelmed." 
 
 " I don't think I would be too sure of that," 
 said Miss Jenkins. 
 
 " My good girl," Miss Peabody retorted, " I've 
 done too much talking to abandoned women in 
 my time you forget that I'm the president of the 
 Boston Association for the Suppression of Sin 
 
THE PANEL 259 
 
 and I haven't been the president of that society for 
 ten years without knowing how to deal with aban- 
 doned women. They're like wax in my fingers." 
 
 " That may very well be, miss," Miss Jenkins 
 said ; " but can you be perfectly certain that 
 Miss Delamare is an abandoned woman ? There's 
 really nothing in the world that's ever been said 
 against her." 
 
 " I tell you I feel it," Miss Peabody said. " I 
 know it. I shudder when I think of her." 
 
 " But that," Miss Jenkins urged, " may be only 
 just a natural antipathy the sort of antipathy 
 that some people have for Jews." 
 
 " A natural antipathy ! " Miss Peabody ex- 
 claimed. " Yes, the natural antipathy that the 
 virtuous and respectable feel for the frivolous, 
 sordid, degenerate, thoughtless and idle creatures of 
 their own sex." And rendered the more eager by 
 Miss Jenkins's opposition, Miss Peabody exclaimed : 
 
 " Only give me the opportunity really to con- 
 front that viper, and I will give her such a talking 
 to, that at the end of it she will certainly know 
 that my heel is upon her head." 
 
 " Of course, I can do what you wish, miss," her 
 Ladyship's Own Maid said reasonably, " and of 
 course it may it probably will lead to driving 
 what you might call the dragon out of this house- 
 hold. But I will urge you not to do it, miss. Miss 
 Delamare is an innocent and harmless little creature, 
 
260 THE PANEL 
 
 and I'm not certain that if you attempt to harm 
 her it won't recoil upon your own head. Indeed, 
 I am pretty certain that it will." 
 
 " My good girl," Miss Peabody said, with dignity, 
 " that's the sort of sentimental nonsense that you 
 read in novelettes in the servants' hall. You may 
 rely upon my judgment, that of a mature woman, 
 and you may be certain that anything that I do, 
 or anything that you do for me, will be perfectly 
 justified." 
 
 " I shall be perfectly justified," Miss Jenkins 
 answered slowly ; " well, I hope I shall, and if I'm 
 not, your blood will be upon your own head." 
 
 " That's a ridiculous phrase again, my good 
 girl," Miss Peabody said ; " so let's make an end 
 of this nonsense. I simply order you to do what 
 I have suggested, and there's an end of it." 
 
 Miss Jenkins suddenly looked at Miss Peabody. 
 " Miss Olympia," she said gravely, "has it ever 
 struck you as quite a side issue, that the arrange- 
 ment of rooms in this house is slightly question- 
 able ? I must say it struck me as extraordinary 
 that you never should have raised any objection." 
 
 Miss Peabody started and exclaimed : :t What 
 do you mean ? " 
 
 " Of course," Miss Jenkins continued, " I don't 
 want to raise any suspicions, but it seems to me a 
 thing that might be changed that possibly ought 
 to be changed that the major and Miss Delamare 
 
THE PANEL 261 
 
 should have rooms side by side with only that 
 panel in between." 
 
 Miss Peabody became suddenly the vivid red 
 of a turkey-cock's wattles. She opened her mouth, 
 but she found positively no words to utter. 
 
 " That I should never have thought of it ! " 
 she exclaimed. 
 
 " Well, it has always struck me as odd, miss," 
 Miss Jenkins answered, " that you never should." 
 
 " Of course it must be changed at once," Miss 
 Peabody answered. " It must be changed im- 
 mediately." 
 
 " Of course it shall be, miss," her Ladyship's 
 Own Maid said. " I will see to that. And in view 
 of what you've just been asking of me, it seems 
 that there would be another little arrangement ..." 
 Miss Jenkins hesitated, and again Miss Peabody 
 asked sharply : 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " I hardly like to suggest it, miss," Miss Jenkins 
 said. 
 
 " Nonsense ! " Miss Peabody exclaimed. " I 
 order you to do so." 
 
 " I'd much rather you thought about it, miss," 
 her Ladyship's Own Maid said. " I don't really 
 care to speak of such things " ; and, faced by the 
 new firmness of Miss Jenkins's lips, Miss Peabody 
 really did reflect. 
 
 " If you consider what you've asked for, miss," 
 
262 THE PANEL 
 
 Miss Jenkins said, " the opportunity for de- 
 nouncing Miss Delamare in circumstances that 
 might appear slightly well, let us say awkward 
 for her . . ." 
 
 Miss Peabody suddenly shook with the birth of 
 a new idea. 
 
 " That's it ! " she exclaimed. " That's pre- 
 cisely it. You will have my things removed to the 
 major's room, and you will have the major's things 
 removed to my room. At once ; without any 
 delay. The major will be away all day, and he 
 will probably not return until late at night. And 
 you will give him no intimation that the change 
 has been made. I positively refuse to allow you 
 to give him any warning. And then he will come 
 up to my room. And we will just see what takes 
 place." " 
 
 Miss Jenkins remonstrated with Miss Peabody 
 for so long, that Miss Peabody simply could not 
 for the life of her understand why she did it. She 
 could only in the end put it down to some un- 
 developed ideas of womanly propriety which 
 might do Miss Jenkins as a servant a great deal of 
 credit, but which, with her superior knowledge, 
 Miss Peabody considered to be the merest non- 
 sense. 
 
IV 
 
 IN spite of their ideas to the contrary, the major 
 and his aunt spent a long day in town for the 
 specialist whom they went to consult about the 
 major's eyes strongly recommended them to get 
 all the distraction they could. He said that what 
 the major chiefly needed was peace of mind, and 
 with the amiable penetration that these people 
 sometimes possess, he seemed to discern that the 
 Manor House, Basildon, if one of the quietest, was 
 not one of the most restful houses in the kingdom. 
 
 So that, first, to get a really good change they 
 went to interview the manager of the bookstall 
 business that had issued a summons against the 
 major. This gentleman was really puzzled by the 
 major's plain explanation. He could not under- 
 stand what the major had had to talk to Miss 
 Delamare about with such concentration when, 
 as Mrs. Foster insisted on explaining, she was the 
 major's adopted sister, and was going to stay 
 with him in the same house. It did not strike the 
 manager as a reasonable explanation for refusing 
 to pay for four and twopence worth of magazines. 
 He was puzzled and, since he was manager of an 
 
 263 
 
264 THE PANEL 
 
 immense business and had all the time in the 
 world on his hands, he just listened to the 
 major's fine confusion with amiability and for 
 a tremendous time from half-past eleven until 
 twenty past twelve. Another thing that he could 
 not understand was the major's statement that 
 for magazines that he purchased at one stall he 
 paid on principle at another. The major ex- 
 plained that he was a shareholder of the com- 
 pany out of gratitude to the novelist who had 
 helped him to pass his remarkable examination ; 
 and that, too, the manager was unable fully to 
 understand. The major said that that was as 
 plain as eating eggs. He asked the manager to 
 picture for himself what sort of a job guarding 
 a well in Somaliland was ; and the manager said 
 that he could not in the least begin to imagine it, 
 but that he had a son who had just come back 
 from that pleasant country. Then it turned out 
 that the manager's son was Sammy Lowes, who 
 had had charge of the next well two hundred and 
 seventy miles away, and that the major had put 
 in a good many evenings at poker over the tele- 
 graph wire with Captain Lowes, though he had 
 never actually met his next-door neighbour. He 
 had to explain then how you could play poker by 
 telegram. Then he returned to the subject of the 
 novelist who had so helped him. He explained 
 carefully, that his grim determination to under- 
 
THE PANEL 265 
 
 stand every sentence that that gentleman had 
 ever written had toughened his comprehension to 
 such an extent, that there was not a single thing 
 in the world that he could not understand. 
 
 The manager asked someone on his telephone 
 to send up Mr. Barnes ; and Mr. Barnes, who was 
 introduced as the company's book inspector-general, 
 declared that he had not even heard the name of 
 the novelist. He went away, however, and then 
 returned with the information which he had got 
 from a subordinate, that not a single book by that 
 gentleman had ever been sold at their stalls. He ap- 
 peared to be asked for, however, in the circulating 
 department, and there was one solitary exception. 
 Kew had brought nine copies thirteen being 
 counted as twelve of a work by this writer. 
 
 " So that," the book inspector-general said, 
 " you can pretty well tell that he's one of your 
 Intellectuals." And the manager nodded his 
 head in cordial agreement. 
 
 " But hang it all," the major asked, " how can 
 you tell ? " 
 
 The manager looked at his inspector-general of 
 literature. 
 
 " Oh," the inspector-general remarked gloomily, 
 " you can tell because really intellectual people 
 never buy new. It's only intellectual people that 
 have discovered that you can buy library copies 
 for a shilling after they have been used." 
 
266 THE PANEL 
 
 " Now can you do that ? " Mrs. Foster asked. 
 " But it seems rather mean, doesn't it ? " 
 
 " It's only intellectual people," the inspector 
 answered, " only quite intellectual people who 
 know how to be really mean. And the fact of the 
 sale of three copies at Kew goes to back up my 
 contention. For Kew is where we sell only the very 
 crankiest of stuff health periodicals and the half- 
 crown monthlies. So if there wasn't vegetarianism 
 in that particular book, there must certainly have 
 been Christian Science or Spiritualism." 
 
 The major said : " Oh," and then he added : 
 " You could call it Spiritualism." 
 
 " Then there we are," the inspector said tri- 
 umphantly. 
 
 " There," the major remarked politely, " in a 
 manner of speaking you may safely say we all 
 certainly are." 
 
 "But," the manager hazarded when the in- 
 spector had gone, " I may be frightfully stupid, 
 but I can't in the least see how where we stand, 
 wherever it is, interferes with your frightful crime 
 of stealing periodicals from a railway bookstall." 
 
 " But," the major said, " it's just established 
 that I'm an Intellectual." 
 
 " No defence at all," the manager said gravely ; 
 " there can be no crime more mean than stealing 
 from a bookstall. You are a shareholder, and you 
 won't deny that it's the very height of meanness. 
 
THE PANEL 267 
 
 It's not as if books were bread, or anything neces- 
 sary or important. And we've just established 
 that the Intellectuals are the only people who 
 know how to be thoroughly and efficiently mean. 
 For what in the world can be meaner than buying 
 second-hand library copies, thus robbing us of our 
 legitimate profit, and the writer of any profit at 
 all. You confess that you belong to the meanest 
 class in the world . . ." 
 
 " But I don't feel in the least like an Intel- 
 lectual," the major said penitently. " I never 
 knew I was till this moment." 
 
 " You certainly don't look like one," the manager 
 said encouragingly. 
 
 " And I certainly never," the major said, " bought 
 a library copy in my ..." He stopped, and then he 
 exclaimed slowly, and with his face of awe, " My 
 God ! Every one of his books that I had in Somali" 
 land had a cancelled yellow label outside it!" And 
 he stopped as if he were really terror-stricken. 
 
 44 Then there," the manager said, 44 you really are. 
 You are convicted of the stupidity it's worse 
 than a crime, considering the advantages we offer 
 the public of dealing with any firm other than 
 us. For we do not deface our library copies with 
 yellow labels, contenting ourselves with a chaste 
 stamp on the title page. And though that does 
 not matter so much you have received great 
 benefits at the hands of a distinguished person- 
 
268 THE PANEL 
 
 
 age without making him one penny the 
 richer." 
 
 " Good heavens ! " the major exclaimed. 
 " Doesn't he get any thing ? " 
 
 " Not one penny ! " the manager answered. 
 " So that you are branded as belonging to that 
 infamous band of sweaters, the purchasers of 
 library copies. You are plainly a sweater, and 
 you stand in danger of being convicted of theft." 
 
 Mrs. Foster protested that her Edward could 
 never be called a thief, but the manager gravely 
 but firmly presented her with many facts concern- 
 ing the financial side of what he styled an in- 
 famous and unsanitary transaction. 
 
 But gradually the major became more cheerful* 
 44 After all," he said, 44 1 could not know anything 
 about the matter. A great parcel of books was 
 sent me by Charles Grand he was a journalist I 
 knew at Simla, and he is now reviewing for the 
 London newspapers ..." 
 
 44 Then," the manager said quietly but very 
 sadly, " the majority of them were review copies 
 which your friend received for nothing and sold 
 to you for two shillings." 
 
 tc But," the major exclaimed, 4t is there nothing 
 but villainy in your business ? " 
 
 44 Nothing ! " the manager answered still very 
 sadly. 44 The authors are only fools, but the 
 readers are sweaters, and the publishers well, 
 
THE PANEL 269 
 
 the less I say about publishers the less I shall have 
 to answer for in the courts of my country ; but 
 all reviewers are villains. The only bright 
 spot is the bookstall, where everything is above- 
 board ! " 
 
 " Well, I'm glad to know that I was right," the 
 major said. 
 
 " Right ! " the manager exclaimed. " You've 
 never been right in your life ! " 
 
 " But I was," the major said, " when I took 
 shares in your company, in order to influence the 
 sales of the author to whom I am grateful." 
 
 The manager became instantly attentive. " And 
 how do you propose to do that ? " he asked. 
 
 " I am doing it already," the major answered. 
 " I never go near a bookstall without asking for 
 the works of my benefactor. And when they are 
 not to be had, I lecture the bookstall boy very 
 severely. I say that I am a shareholder . . ." 
 
 " I trust," the manager interrupted him, " that 
 you have never found any of the works of this 
 author upon our bookstalls ? " 
 
 " Never ! " the major exclaimed. 
 
 " Then that's all right," the manager said, " and 
 you may continue with your explanation." 
 
 " I tell the bookstall clerk," the major accord- 
 ingly continued, " that I am a shareholder, and 
 that I insist upon his ordering all the novels of 
 that author." 
 
270 THE PANEL 
 
 44 And do you ever notice that it has been done ? " 
 the manager asked. 
 
 44 1 have never been able to discover that it 
 has," the major said. 
 
 ' 4 Well," the manager continued, 44 it's best to 
 make certain," and he took the telephone which 
 stood on the desk before him. 4t Barnes," he re- 
 marked into that instrument, 44 will you kindly 
 give instructions that no books by the author 
 of What Maisie Knew are ever put on sale 
 upon the stalls, except, of course, as library 
 copies ? " He put down the telephone, and, 
 looking contentedly at the major, he remarked : 
 44 So that's all right. We had better go to 
 Waterloo." 
 
 "But I don't in the least understand," the 
 major said. 
 
 44 Oh, that's all right, that's all right," the 
 manager answered. 44 It's all perfectly right." 
 
 44 But it seems to me . . ." the major said. 
 
 44 It seems to me," Mrs. Foster remarked, 44 that 
 you have just prevented the books of your friend 
 from being sold at all." 
 
 44 That was exactly what was wanted," the 
 manager said. 4t Here we were in the face of an 
 atrocious conspiracy to plant upon our firm books 
 that couldn't possibly be sold. I have fortunately 
 put an end to that." 
 
 44 But hang it all ! . . ." the major said. 
 
THE PANEL 271 
 
 The manager looked gravely and benevolently 
 at the major. 
 
 " My dear young friend, don't become excited," 
 he advised. " I observe in you a distinct tendency to 
 become excited. I can only imagine that comes from 
 the class of literature that you have been reading. 
 Now take my advice. Give it up. Just give it up." 
 
 " But, confound your impertinence," the major 
 exclaimed hotly, " it has made me the youngest 
 major in the British Army." 
 
 " There, there, there, there, there ! " the 
 manager said. " Hush ! Hush ! I cannot im- 
 agine what possible advantage it can be to be the 
 youngest major in the British Army. But just 
 you take my advice. When you came in I was 
 reading a book. I am an exceedingly busy man, 
 so it's absolutely necessary that at times I should 
 relax my mind. That is to say, sometimes, even 
 in office hours, I take up a book and read. Let me 
 tell you, my young friend, that there's nothing so 
 salutary in the world as literature. And I consider 
 that I, as the manager of this great business, and you 
 as one of its shareholders, are conferring upon 
 humanity the greatest boon that this century ..." 
 
 " My dear chap," the major said, " this isn't a 
 dinner to the Newsvendors' Benevolent Associa- 
 tion, or whatever it is where you make speeches 
 like that." 
 
 44 The purpose of literature," the manager con- 
 
272 THE PANEL 
 
 tinned, " is to refresh, to recreate, to enlighten, to 
 uplift. Buried deep in the soothing pages of a 
 book, how blissfully the soul pursues its course ! 
 With what a smooth current do the minutes pass, 
 with what a ..." 
 
 " Oh, hang it all ! " the major exclaimed. " I 
 can't stand this. This is like listening to Mrs. 
 Kerr Howe reading aloud." 
 
 " And it was precisely to the works of that 
 great and splendid writer," the manager said, 
 " that I was desiring to direct your attention. If 
 you would go round the bookstalls now and ob- 
 serve whether there are any works of that lady to 
 be seen, I should be pleased to empower you to 
 threaten to horsewhip any bookstall clerk whose 
 stall did not display at least six copies of six 
 different works by Mrs. Kerr Howe in a very 
 prominent position." 
 
 " Then," Mrs. Foster suddenly asked the mana- 
 ger, " Mrs. Kerr Howe really is a great writer ? " 
 
 " Madam," the manager said impressively, 
 " Mrs. Kerr Howe is the greatest writer the world 
 has ever seen. You can prove it by every possible 
 means. Do you wish to prove it by statistics ? 
 Then let me tell you that the complete works of 
 Mrs. Kerr Howe had enjoyed up to the day before 
 yesterday a world sale of seventeen and a half 
 million copies. Supposing all these volumes were 
 stacked on their sides, they would reach from here 
 
THE PANEL 273 
 
 to the moon. Supposing them to be laid end to 
 end, they would reach twice from here to the moon 
 and back. The mere quantity of printers' ink 
 employed in their production has been eight and 
 a half thousand gallons. To make the paper 
 required for them one entire forest in the colony 
 of Newfoundland, several woods in Norway, and 
 the entire output of rags for one year of a city the 
 size of Liverpool have been required." 
 
 " This is extremely interesting," Mrs. Foster 
 said. " I'm sure Mrs. Kerr Howe will be delighted 
 to know this." She looked at the major reflectively. 
 " My dear Edward," she said, " I sometimes 
 thought that I should like you to marry Mrs. 
 Kerr Howe. But now that I have heard these 
 beautiful facts, my mind is more at rest upon the 
 subject. Of course, in my heart I should much 
 prefer you to marry Miss Delamare. And I am 
 sure both ladies are only just waiting to be asked, 
 to jump down your throat." 
 
 The manager suddenly stood up. " Do I under- 
 stand," he said, with an accent almost of awe, 
 " that I am talking to people who are upon inti- 
 mate terms with those two great ornaments of the 
 social life of the day Mrs. Kerr Howe and Miss 
 Flossie Delamare ? " 
 
 " But they are both stopping with us at the 
 present moment," Mrs. Foster said. " And they 
 are both most extremely anxious to marry my 
 s 
 
274 THE PANEL 
 
 nephew. At least, Mrs. Kerr Howe is, though I 
 don't know how it may be with Miss Delamare, 
 for, of course, she's my adopted daughter, and the 
 major's my adopted son, so perhaps the Church 
 would forbid the marriage. I am not very clever 
 at these things." 
 
 " You've been extremely clever, madam," the 
 manager said, " in adopting a distinguished and 
 charming family ; and I trust that when your son 
 does marry, he will permit me to present to the 
 bride, whichever lady she may be, a complete set 
 of the works of Mrs. Kerr Howe bound in our 
 half-roan with gilt backs and marble tops. There 
 could be no present in the world more appropriate 
 to a newly married lady, for these books will re- 
 fresh and recreate her weary hours ..." 
 
 " Well, I'm sure I'm much obliged," the major 
 said. 
 
 " Of course," the manager continued, address- 
 ing Mrs. Foster, " I imagine that from the samples 
 of your nephew's conversation and behaviour that 
 I have been privileged to hear and to hear of, her 
 weary hours or at any rate her unexcited hours 
 will be quite few and far between. But I can 
 imagine nothing better calculated to engross the 
 mind and to relieve it of gloomy thoughts whilst, 
 say, the lady is waiting in the corridors of a police- 
 court, or during the assizes, whilst she is expecting 
 the verdict of the jury who will retire to consider it 
 
THE PANEL 275 
 
 I cannot imagine anything better calculated to 
 distract the mind than any volume by the author 
 of Pink Passions, or Crime in a Nightgown." 
 The manager pulled out his watch. " Thank 
 Heaven ! " he exclaimed ; "it's twenty past 
 twelve. Now let's go to Waterloo." 
 
 " But what are we going to Waterloo f or ? " 
 the major asked. 
 
 " To investigate on the spot," the manager 
 answered, " the details of your sordid crime." 
 
 " But that will be taking up a tremendous 
 amount of your time," Mrs. Foster said. 
 
 " My dear lady," the manager answered, " that's 
 exactly what I want. Do you suppose that a man 
 like myself has anything in the world to do ? I 
 am the head of one of the most important, of one 
 of the most extended enterprises in the world. 
 We employ nine hundred and seventy carts in the 
 distribution of weekly periodicals alone. And is 
 it thinkable that I the head of this great business 
 should have anything in the world to do ? " 
 
 " But I should have thought . . ." Mrs. Foster 
 began timidly. 
 
 " My dear lady," the manager said, " just re- 
 flect for a moment. What is the secret of business 
 success ? What is it that makes an enterprise 
 run smoothly once it has started on its proud 
 career ? I will tell you. The secret of all these 
 things is efficient subordinates. Now my sub- 
 
276 THE PANEL 
 
 ordinates are so absolutely efficient that there is 
 nothing in the world left for me to do. I sit here 
 for whole mornings playing patience, or reading 
 the works of Mrs. Kerr Howe, or in the alternative 
 simply twiddling my thumbs and praying Heaven 
 for an occupation. Thanks to yourself and the 
 major, my mind has been occupied from half -past 
 eleven till twenty minutes past twelve by this extra- 
 ordinary and engrossing story of passion and crime." 
 
 " Oh, hang it all ! " the major said, " where 
 does the passion come in ? " 
 
 " I have gathered," the manager answered, " in 
 the course of our conversation, that you are en- 
 gaged to at least two ladies, and that at least two 
 other ladies are anxious to marry you. Of course, 
 it is no affair of mine ; but I can easily gather 
 from these glimpses of the background of affairs 
 of the heart what thrilling situations, what tre- 
 mendous escapes and outpourings of the soul 
 must occur in the course of your daily life. What 
 a subject for Mrs. Kerr Howe ! And how eagerly, 
 did it only know the circumstances, would the 
 public await that lady's next volume. But now 
 let us go to Waterloo. As I have said, I have 
 been in an agony all this morning for the want of 
 an occupation. And now that I have a chance to 
 make a criminal investigation on my own account, 
 is it to be thought that I will let the matter drop 
 until I have sifted it to the bitter end ? " 
 
THE PANEL 277 
 
 They drove to Waterloo in the motor that had 
 brought them up from Basildon. And there the 
 manager interviewed the bookstall clerk, whose 
 manner was respectful whilst it was self-respect- 
 ing, and the bookstall boy, who was in tears. 
 The bookstall boy declared that he had certainly 
 found eight sixpenny magazines, one penny daily, 
 and two halfpenny dailies upon his stall. And 
 these he had sent back to the central office as 
 " returns," because he did not know what else in 
 the world to do with them. Similarly, he had 
 found upon his stall the half-sovereign that the 
 major had thrown there, and this he had taken to 
 the Lost Property Office which, he understood, 
 was the correct thing to do. At the end of three 
 months, if the major did not in the meantime 
 identify his coin, the half-sovereign would have 
 become the property of the paper-boy. 
 
 " It results from all this " the manager ad- 
 dressed the major and his aunt " that, although 
 an obvious attempt at theft was made, yet, the 
 offender having returned the stolen goods, and 
 made an honest though mistaken attempt to pay 
 for them, the company though I say it regret- 
 fully would hardly be justified in attempting to 
 prosecute the offender who might be very difficult 
 to identify." 
 
 " But hang it all ! " the major said. 
 
 " That, my young friend," the manager replied, 
 
278 THE PANEL 
 
 " is the fifth time that you have said, ' Hang it 
 all ! ' in the course of an hour. I can only put 
 down the smallness of your vocabulary to the 
 nature of your favourite literature. For books, 
 whilst they refresh the mind, recreate the senses, 
 and are boons to minds weary and depressed ..." 
 The manager's eye at this moment fell upon the 
 clock that, upon the main line departure platform, 
 marked the hour of one. " God bless my soul ! " 
 he said. " Let's all go and have lunch together. 
 That is to say, I shall be delighted if you will 
 lunch with me, for I am extremely obliged to you 
 for getting me through this morning. For this 
 afternoon I am safe, since I have an engagement 
 to play golf with the manager of the P.Q.Q.G., 
 who, let me tell you, is one of the busiest men of 
 our busy commercial world." 
 
THEY lunched at an excellent and extremely 
 costly restaurant that was hidden away in a 
 dirty back alley, behind Tokenhouse Yard. Here 
 they had the opportunity of inspecting the features 
 of gentlemen who, the manager assured them, were 
 the twenty-seven busiest men of their great com- 
 mercial world. He also told them that they might, 
 if they imagined carefully, imagine that there they 
 heard the very wheels of London finance whirring 
 along. But when they listened with attention, the 
 sound most audible to them was made by the head 
 of the firm of Howe, Hough, Blades and Kershaw, 
 who was snuffling over his soup. 
 
 " Well," the manager said reflectively when they 
 had finished lunch, "I'm very much obliged to you 
 for your society and for clearing up the mystery." 
 
 " But there could not have been any mystery," 
 the major said. " You can't really have suspected 
 me of wanting to steal four and tuppence worth 
 of cheap literature ! " 
 
 " Oh, that wasn't the mystery," the manager 
 answered. " You see, for a long time past I have 
 been puzzled by reports from various bookstalls of 
 
 279 
 
280 THE PANEL 
 
 a gentleman and all the clerks reported that he 
 was strange in his manner who insisted on their 
 providing their stalls with copies of works that 
 couldn't by any imaginable probability ever get 
 sold. And what I really wanted was to get the 
 facts of this singular proceeding and if possible to 
 put an end to it. I think I have done that." 
 
 " I think I must acknowledge that you have 
 done that," the major said rather ruefully. 
 
 " Henceforth the bookstalls will be protected 
 from these spurious demands," the manager con- 
 tinued amiably. " I think you will acknowledge 
 that, too." 
 
 " I think I must," the major conceded ; and 
 then he asked : " You don't happen to be an 
 Irishman by any chance ? " 
 
 " No, I was born in Peckham," the manager 
 answered, "silly Peckham." 
 
 " But probably under the table of a solicitor's 
 clerk," the major commented. 
 
 "Oh no," the manager answered. " Just in 
 the usual ordinary common-sense parsley-bed." 
 He had accompanied them to the opening of the 
 dirty court where their motor-car was awaiting 
 them, and he held up his finger to a taxi-cab. 
 " You see," he said, " what's the trouble with all 
 you Irish people is that you are too clever by half, 
 whereas we who are born in Peckham are only 
 just clever enough. That's what gives us our 
 
THE PANEL 281 
 
 immense pull." He recommended them very 
 strongly, if they wanted to be interested, to go to 
 the matinee of " Pigs is Pigs " and see how they 
 liked it without Miss Delamare as the leading lady. 
 And this they really did. The major, who had 
 never seen this entertaining work which united in 
 itself the talents of two authors and three musical 
 composers, was quite interested in its simple 
 display ; but Mrs. Foster said that it was not 
 worth seeing in the absence of the " symphonic 
 embodiment of quaint imbecility.'* Afterwards 
 they dined in the ladies' room of the major's club, 
 and there the major met a man whom he had not 
 seen for eleven years. And Mrs. Foster, who had 
 really a great dread of travelling in the motor by 
 night, went back to Basildon by the 8.43, so that 
 the major should have his talk out with his old 
 friend. She insisted on this because she wished 
 him to have a very thorough change. 
 
 It may have been a quarter past ten when the 
 major left his club steps in the large motor. And 
 as the roads were quite empty, and the moonlight 
 very bright, they got full forty miles an hour out 
 of her, and he reached Basildon Manor not much 
 more than twenty minutes after his aunt, who had 
 gone straight up to Miss Delamare. He himself 
 went straight up to his own room. 
 
282 THE PANEL 
 
 Mr. Arthur Foster had spent a tranquil but 
 somewhat tiring day over the amalgamation of 
 the two societies that were interested in the cause 
 of virtue, and it was not until just before dinner 
 that he went up to his room to dress. Then he 
 discovered that all his things had been cleared 
 out. He rang the bell, which was answered by Mrs. 
 Foster's maid, and Mrs. Foster's maid said she 
 knew nothing about it, but she would ask her 
 Ladyship's Own Maid. 
 
 Her Ladyship's Own Maid waited upon Mr. 
 Foster and informed him that such were Mrs. 
 Foster's orders. She could not help it ; she was 
 not responsible for it. She had just done what 
 she was told. Mr. Foster protested lamentably ; 
 he wanted her Ladyship's Own Maid to inform 
 him what he had done, that at his time of life he 
 should be moved around the house like a parcel 
 sent by post. Her Ladyship's Own Maid could 
 only say that the room which had been allotted to 
 Mr. Foster was thoroughly comfortable and per- 
 fectly pretty, being the room which was called the 
 pink room. 
 
 " But what have I done ? " Mr. Foster asked. 
 
 Miss Jenkins reflected for a moment, and then 
 she said slowly : " Mrs. Foster, I believe, is ex- 
 tremely angry because you have not signed the 
 contract with Miss Delamare. I believe that is 
 the reason." 
 
THE PANEL 283 
 
 " Well, but what am I to do ? " Mr. Foster said. 
 
 " It isn't for me to advise you, sir," Miss Jenkins 
 said ; " but if I might suggest, I should say that 
 you ought to sign that contract immediately after 
 dinner, and then, as I imagine Miss Peabody will 
 be thoroughly angry, I should advise you to stop 
 with the other ladies until about half -past ten, and 
 then go to your room and wait quietly till Mrs. 
 Foster comes back. For I may say that I know 
 pretty well what women are, and I think, sir, if 
 you give proof of deference to Mrs. Foster's wishes 
 and of obedience to her commands, she will pro- 
 bably be inclined to forgive you." 
 
 "But this is awful," Mr. Foster said. "I 
 simply daren't sign that contract." 
 
 " You will find it much more awful if you don't, 
 sir," Miss Jenkins said. " Mrs. Foster is deter- 
 mined not to speak another word to you." 
 
 Mr. Foster groaned and groaned. And then he 
 permitted Miss Jenkins to lead him to the pink 
 room, where he dressed for dinner. At dinner he 
 sat pallid and depressed, and did nothing to enliven 
 the conversation of the three ladies who were under 
 his charge. But, having drunk three and a half 
 glasses of Moselle, two of champagne, two of port, 
 and one of liqueur brandy which he took with his 
 coffee, he joined the ladies with a firm step and 
 courageous manner. 
 
 " Miss Delamare," he exclaimed in loud tones, 
 
284 THE PANEL 
 
 " if you will kindly bring me that contract for the 
 new theatre, I will go into my study and sign it 
 with you at once. Miss Jenkins and one of the 
 other servants can be the witnesses." 
 
 Miss Peabody started violently and opened her 
 mouth, but, as Mrs. Kerr Howe was present, she 
 did not feel that it would be wise to make any 
 remark. And Mr. Foster remained under the 
 shelter of the presence of Mrs. Kerr Howe until 
 Miss Delamare returned with the contract. Mrs. 
 Kerr Howe was talking about the end of the third 
 act of her play. And she went on talking about 
 it to Miss Peabody until ten minutes after Mr. 
 Foster and Miss Delamare had gone away. Then 
 she perceived that Miss Peabody had fainted in 
 her grandfather's chair. 
 
 It was not for nearly an hour and a half that she 
 was brought round. Under the ministrations of her 
 own maid, her Ladyship's Own Maid and Mrs. Kerr 
 Howe, she had cold rigors, warm heats, and finally 
 a real and typical fit of hysterics. It being then 
 about a quarter past ten, Miss Jenkins suggested 
 that she had better drink a little whisky and water 
 and then go quietly to bed. 
 
 " I am not going to bed" Miss Peabody said ; 
 but as she had been talking nonsense sheer 
 simple nonsense for the last three-quarters of an 
 hour, no one took any particular notice of the 
 speech, and her own maid and her Ladyship's 
 
THE PANEL 285 
 
 Own Maid conducted her up to her room which 
 was by now the room with the panel. She dis- 
 missed her own maid, but she begged Miss Jenkins 
 to stay with her. And immediately, with eyes 
 that glittered with rage, Miss Peabody commanded : 
 
 " Tell me how this panel works." 
 
 With their forbidding, unseeing or threatening 
 eyes the three men, the three women, the three 
 children and the baby on its hands and feet gazed 
 at Miss Peabody. They appeared immense and 
 threatening. Miss Jenkins said slowly : 
 
 " You work it by a knob in the carved frame. 
 That is to say, miss, there are two knobs, one to 
 shut it and one to open it. That was why the 
 major couldn't shut it the other night. He got 
 hold of the one that opened it first, and it never 
 entered his head that there was another to shut it. 
 And then Miss Delamare found the one to shut it, 
 and it never entered her head that there would be 
 another to open it.'* 
 
 Miss Peabody said : " That fiendish woman is 
 at the bottom of everything." 
 
 " All the same, miss," Miss Jenkins said slowly, 
 " I don't think if I were you that I should attempt 
 to interview Miss Delamare to-night. I should 
 personally advise you to let the knobs alone." 
 
 " 1 shall certainly do nothing of the sort," Miss 
 Peabody said. 
 
 " It almost makes me inclined to say," Miss 
 
286 THE PANEL 
 
 Jenkins replied slowly, " your blood be upon yc 
 own head." 
 
 Miss Peabody said sharply : " That's a most 
 improper remark." 
 
 " It would be," Miss Jenkins returned, " if it 
 were a question merely of superior and inferior. But 
 you have insisted on my joining in what appears 
 to be in what you consider to be a plot. And 
 plotters have got to be considered equals. I don't 
 think it a proper thing that you should attack Miss 
 Delamare. And what's more, I don't think it will 
 be a good thing for yourself." 
 
 Miss Peabody became calmly hard and obstinate. 
 
 " My girl," she said, " I don't know why you 
 should be so concerned for Miss Delamare. I don't 
 believe that I can consider you a friend of mine." 
 
 " I wish you wouldn't consider me a friend of 
 yours," Miss Jenkins replied. " I am certainly 
 not, and it will make your position plainer if you 
 consider that I am very decidedly not a friend of 
 yours. But it is the most friendly thing I have 
 ever said to you when I recommend you to leaye 
 that panel alone." 
 
 " And is it likely," Miss Peabody said, " that I 
 should take the advice of a servant who definitely 
 tells me that she is not my friend ? " She laughed 
 again with a high incredulity. "Is it really be- 
 lievable ? " she said. " A servant who is not my 
 friend ! " 
 
THE PANEL 287 
 
 Miss Jenkins stood still with her hands hanging 
 before her. There was quite a silence, and then 
 Miss Peabody said sharply : " Well ? " 
 
 " I have nothing in the world to say, miss," 
 Miss Jenkins continued. " The position is abso- 
 lutely at a deadlock. I have recommended you 
 very earnestly to leave the thing alone. It doesn't 
 appear to me to be a dignified proceeding ; it doesn't 
 appear to me to be the proceeding of a lady, or 
 even of a decent-hearted woman. And if you 
 persist in doing it, all I can say is, that that takes 
 away any reluctance I may feel. Because, of course, 
 it makes me all the more absolutely certain, if I 
 was not certain enough already, that you are 
 absolutely unfitted for the position you are called 
 upon to occupy." 
 
 MissJPeabody remained perfectly calm. " I 
 don't in the least understand your threats," she 
 said. " And I don't in the least want to under- 
 stand them. To-morrow I shall deal with you. 
 What do you think your mistress will say when 
 she hears of your outrageous insolence to a guest 
 of her house ?".* 
 
 " I think her Ladyship will be in entire agree- 
 ment with me," Miss Jenkins said. 
 
 " I don't believe anything of the sort," Miss 
 Peabody answered. " You may understand ser- 
 vant nature very well, but it's pretty certain that 
 you don't understand the nature of employers. 
 
288 THE PANEL 
 
 You will find, I think, that her Ladyship will 
 entirely agree with me. You will find, I think, 
 that there is a sort of freemasonry between em- 
 ployers, and that your employer, hearing that you 
 have been insolent to another person of her class, 
 will turn you out of your situation at once. And 
 I am glad of it, for you are a more puffed-up 
 creature than anyone I have ever met in this world.'* 
 
 " Well, all I can say is," Miss Jenkins answered, 
 " that if there is that sort of freemasonry between 
 employers, and if that's the sort of thing that can 
 happen to a good servant who does what is only her 
 duty in such circumstances as I have done my duty 
 all I can say is, that if that sort of thing happens, 
 servants are a bitterly wronged class, and I shall 
 certainly see to it that my servants are on a dif- 
 ferent footing." 
 
 " Your servants ! " Miss Peabody exclaimed. 
 " What have you got to do with servants ? " 
 
 " Of course I have my servants like anybody 
 else," Miss Jenkins said. " Do you suppose 1 
 shouldn't have ? " 
 
 " Then all I can say is," Miss Peabody answered, 
 " that the condition of affairs in this country is 
 infinitely more corrupt is infinitely more re- 
 volutionary than they can be said to be even in 
 my own country. Heaven knows in Boston there's 
 infinitely too little discipline, there's infinitely too 
 little respect of class for class. But if the sort of 
 
THE PANEL 289 
 
 thing that I find here is typical of your upper 
 classes, if subordinates are not only to be treated 
 as familiars by their superiors but to be furnished 
 with all the luxuries and the privileges of their 
 superiors themselves, how is it to be wondered at 
 that this branch of the Anglo-Saxon brotherhood 
 is drifting to decay ? I don't know who you are, 
 and I don't know what you are, but it's quite 
 evident to me that you must have some hold over 
 your mistress. Probably the origin of that hold 
 is in something corrupt. Almost certainly it is, 
 and that's the end of the whole matter. Every- 
 where here I find corruption, and corruption, and 
 again corruption." 
 
 " I'm sure that's extremely interesting," Miss Jen- 
 kins said. " But if you will kindly give me any further 
 orders that you may have, I shall be pleased to take 
 them. Or if not I shall be glad to be dismissed." 
 
 " I order you," Miss Peabody exclaimed, " to 
 reveal to me the secret of that panel." 
 
 Miss Jenkins produced a very small stamp -case 
 of green leather from the pocket of her apron. 
 She opened it and took out a little piece of stamp- 
 paper ; and, coming towards the frame of the 
 immense picture panel, she stuck the little piece 
 of stamp-paper on a protruding knob. 
 
 " That," she said, " is the knob that opens the 
 panel. You ordered me to show it you, and I 
 have shown it you much against my will." 
 
290 THE PANEL 
 
 " But where," Miss Peabody asked, " is the knob 
 that closes the panel ? " 
 
 " That," Miss Jenkins exclaimed, " I shall cer- 
 tainly not show you. You insist on opening that 
 panel in order to give Miss Delamare what you 
 would probably call a piece of your mind. And 
 as you will probably give an untruthful account 
 of the transaction to-morrow, I am perfectly 
 determined that, if the panel is opened, it shall 
 remain open as evidence of the fact that it was you 
 who opened it. The panel cannot be opened from 
 the next room, so that proof is absolutely conclusive. 
 
 " And indeed," she continued, " I tell you 
 plainly, that I shall go straight from here and 
 throw the closing gear of that panel out of action. 
 So that if you open it, you certainly will not be 
 able to close it even though you should find the 
 other knob." 
 
 Miss Peabody said with a sort of high irony : 
 "Well, this is a pretty condition of affairs, I'm sure." 
 
 " Her Ladyship," Miss Jenkins replied, " left 
 me here to act upon my own discretion for the 
 protection of her friends in this house and of the 
 reputation of the house itself. I don't want to 
 have scenes here, and I won't have scenes here. 
 But as it is obviously impossible for me to stop you 
 making a fool of yourself, I certainly insist upon 
 your making a fool of yourself in my own way 
 in the way that is least likely to cause incon- 
 
THE PANEL 291 
 
 venience to her Ladyship, or to any other person 
 in this house. And as for Miss Delamare, if you 
 attack her, I don't think, knowing her as I do, 
 that you will get very much change out of her." 
 
 " I fail to understand these vulgar expressions," 
 Miss Peabody said. 
 
 " Not to get much change out of a person," 
 Miss Jenkins replied, with the utmost equanimity, 
 " is an Americanism. It means that you come off 
 second best. It means that Miss Delamare' s case 
 is so absolutely impregnable, that you won't be 
 able even to make her wince and that she will 
 make you wince all the time." 
 
 " Everything you say," Miss Peabody said, 
 " only makes me all the more determined to do 
 what I am determined to do." 
 
 " I am quite aware of that," Miss Jenkins said. 
 "It's a little proceeding which will lead you to 
 disaster, and I don't see that I am particularly 
 concerned in saving you from disaster. I am con- 
 cerned in satisfying my own conscience. If you 
 come to grief I shall probably profit by it, so I am 
 not going to let you come to grief until I have used 
 every possible argument that would dissuade a 
 decent woman. For the main point for me is that 
 if you are not a decent woman, I have every 
 possible right to profit by your collapse." 
 
 Miss Peabody, still ironically, exclaimed : "What 
 language ! " 
 
292 THE PANEL 
 
 " Yes, collapse,*' Miss Jenkins said gravely. 
 " That's what you will do. If you indulge in this 
 vicious and vulgar spite you will collapse. You 
 will collapse utterly. You will go out. I warn 
 you that you will go out, and you will probably be 
 miserable to the end of your days. And you will 
 deserve it. For what has Miss Delamare done to 
 you ? Nothing ! Absolutely nothing ! It's just 
 because she's little and gentle and pretty and gay 
 and nice and to be sure you're none of those 
 things and it's just because she's been kind to 
 another old woman kind and gentle and con- 
 siderate and to be sure you're none of those 
 things either. But it's just because of them that 
 you hate her as an unpleasant cat hates a pleasant 
 dog. It isn't because it isn't because you're my 
 rival that I hope to see you thrown out of this 
 house. If you had been a nice woman, Heaven 
 knows I wouldn't have stirred a finger against you, 
 Heaven really knows that I wouldn't. But you have 
 such an evil nature ! You have such a dislike of any- 
 thing that is good and gay and pleasant, that even 
 though I don't want to do so for my own sake, I shall 
 certainly do for his the very best that I possibly 
 can to save from you the man that I have loved 
 for years, and a man that is as good and as gentle 
 and as gay as any man ever was in this world. So 
 I tell you quite plainly that, if you attempt 
 to interfere with Miss Delamare, you will lose the 
 
THE PANEL 293 
 
 man you are engaged to. I hope you will do it and 
 I hope you may lose him, for if you do I shall most 
 certainly get him, and I want him more than any- 
 thing else in the world ; and that's just all there 
 is to it, and this is the last word that I shall say. 
 I've just planked my cards on the table and you 
 can do as you like." 
 
 Miss Peabody remained gazing at her for a long 
 minute in an absolute speechlessness, and Miss 
 Jenkins was just moving towards the door when 
 she exclaimed sharply : 
 
 " No, stop ! You ! " She put her hand up to 
 her forehead. " So that," she said at last, " you 
 are in league with that creature. With that Miss 
 Delamare. And you are trying to shield her. 
 That's it ! I see through the whole discreditable 
 and disgusting thing. I'm not going to speak about 
 it any more. I shall attend to the matter to- 
 morrow. But to-night I shall speak to this woman 
 in such a way as to drive her right out of this house, 
 You may hope that I can't do this, but I certainly 
 can. I have had to do with too many abandoned 
 and fallen women in my life not to let my tongue 
 be like the whip of a lash. And I begin to see so 
 far into this disgusting and sordid affair that in a 
 few minutes I shall be absolutely at the bottom of 
 it, and then I shall be prepared to act. But as for 
 your imagining that Major Foster will ever fall to 
 you, I tell you this, that if God struck me with 
 
294 THE PANEL 
 
 lightning at this minute and you were the only 
 woman in the world, he would never look at you. 
 Now you can go." 
 
 Miss Jenkins withdrew without another word. 
 
 And Miss Peabody remained alone, leaning on 
 the high mantelpiece and really trying to get to 
 the bottom of things. And then suddenly the 
 bottom of things came up at her like a flash. It 
 was really the plainest intrigue that she had ever 
 been called upon to solve. Miss Delamare was to 
 plunder Mr. Foster, and she had agreed upon this 
 with her Ladyship's Own Maid, giving the major 
 himself over to Miss Jenkins as the price of Miss 
 Jenkins's support ! 
 
 There simply could not be any doubt about this. 
 And, with a step of extreme firmness, she marched 
 straight over towards the panel. She was just 
 going to tell Miss Delamare that she had un- 
 shakable proof that she was Mr. Foster's mistress, 
 and that the granting of the lease of the new theatre 
 was the price of her sin. 
 
VI 
 
 ]%/TR. FOSTER was sitting in front of his bed- 
 -L J- room fire in a state of the most thorough 
 dispiritude. He did not like his room, which was 
 hung all with pink chintz, and did not seem to be 
 the proper room for a gentleman ; he was ex- 
 ceedingly afraid of what he saw to be the con- 
 siderable change in Mrs. Foster, and he was ex- 
 tremely afraid of what Miss Peabody might be 
 going to do or, still more, to say, now that he had 
 definitely signed with Miss Delamare the agree- 
 ment for the new theatre. His simple soul was 
 thoroughly frightened, thoroughly worried and 
 thoroughly shaken. For nearly an hour he had 
 been trying to read a book by Mrs. Kerr Howe 
 called Pink Passions. This book troubled him 
 exceedingly ; for, to tell the truth, he had never 
 read a book since the publication of The Woman 
 in White. And it did not seem to him to be 
 natural that people should behave as they did 
 in Mrs. Kerr Howe's book, and the characters 
 certainly seemed to him to be chiefly im- 
 proper persons. On the other hand, Mrs. Foster 
 was perpetually dinning into him the fact that 
 
 295 
 
296 THE PANEL 
 
 Mrs. Kerr Howe was a great author. And, in his 
 muddled and troubled state, the poor man began 
 reflecting upon what was to be expected from 
 great authors. He had a vague idea that the pur- 
 pose of literature was said to be to ennoble the 
 world ; but, on the other hand, he had an idea 
 that the end of authors, or the life of authors for 
 the matter of that, was spent in the Divorce Courts. 
 And he imagined that the greater the author, the 
 more frequent were his visits to these establish- 
 ments. So that he could not very w r ell see how 
 the products of obviously immoral persons could 
 help on moral causes in the world. And at the 
 same time he was so anxious to be received back, 
 if not into his old quarters, at least into Mrs. 
 Foster's favour, that he was really desperately 
 anxious to appreciate not only Miss Delamare, 
 but also Mrs. Kerr Howe. He felt that if he 
 could do this, Mrs. Foster would, for reasons 
 that he could not understand, be kind to him 
 again. And he was looking into his fire and 
 brooding rather miserably. For he was deter- 
 mined to await the return of Mrs. Foster before 
 he got into bed. He wished to tell her as well as 
 he could that, in the end, he found that she was 
 more important to him than the wishes of Miss 
 Peabody. Though this again muddled him, for 
 he had really wanted to propitiate his wife by 
 doing everything that he possibly could to please 
 
THE PANEL 297 
 
 her nephew. And he had perfectly believed that, 
 the more he pleased Miss Peabody, the more joy it 
 ought to cause Major Edward Brent Foster ; for 
 so simple was his soul that it had never occurred to 
 him to notice that his wife exceedingly detested 
 that lady. He had usually been taught by his 
 friends in the city, and other places, to consider 
 that women were incomprehensible, but he had 
 really had so little to do with women though it 
 is true that having been as normally unfaithful 
 to Mrs. Foster as most of his friends were to their 
 wives, he had now and then had his whiskers 
 damaged before he shaved them in order to be 
 more in the fashion he had really had so little to 
 do with women, that the fact they were incompre- 
 hensible had not really seemed to him to matter 
 at all. 
 
 But now he dropped Pink Passions, and looking 
 at the fire, exclaimed in a bitterly aggrieved tone : 
 " Why, they're incomprehensible ! " 
 
 He had been trying to do his best to please 
 everybody all round, and he seemed to have 
 come in for so much abuse, that he simply 
 felt bruised and black and blue all over his moral 
 being. 
 
 " Why, they're incomprehensible ! " he repeated. 
 For, if Mr. Foster had not been strictly virtuous all 
 his life, he had certainly been strictly respectable, 
 and, in the present transactions, he had not only 
 
298 THE PANEL 
 
 been extremely respectable but even quite abso- 
 lutely virtuous. There was not, he was perfectly 
 certain, a single thing that could possibly be said 
 against his virtue. Not a single thing. He was as 
 spotless as an angel, and he had tried to be as 
 obliging as a Cook's Guide. 
 
 He heard a little swish a negligible sound in 
 these old houses and suddenly there burst upon 
 him the words : 
 
 " You infamous man ! You abandoned woman!" 
 
 Mr. Foster tried to spring clean out of his chair ; 
 but, since he was not normally very active, he only 
 succeeded in achieving a sort of shuffle. Miss 
 Peabody was standing in a sort of lighted square 
 that had disappeared from the pink chintzed 
 panelling of one of his walls. And, his mind 
 having been running upon his respectable but not 
 impeccable past, Mr. Foster imagined that Miss 
 Peabody must have heard what he would have 
 called a thing or two about himself, and exclaimed 
 in a breathless alarm : 
 
 44 What woman ? " 
 
 And then there began a breathless dialogue, 
 for Miss Peabody exclaimed : 
 
 44 That actress that Miss Delamare ! I know 
 all about her." 
 
 Mr. Foster ejaculated : " What about her ? " 
 And Miss Peabody said convictingly : 
 
 44 You are in her room." 
 
THE PANEL 299 
 
 " Certainly not," Mr. Foster almost screamed. 
 " This is my room." 
 
 " You can't expect me to believe that," she said. 
 
 " Oh, nonsense ! " he answered. " You've gone 
 mad with jealousy." 
 
 Olympia advanced upon him. " Mr. Foster," 
 she exclaimed, with a fixed gravity, " don't lie to 
 me. I expected to find you here. I was convinced 
 that I should find you here, and I have found you 
 here. There's no getting away from that. If you 
 like to behave penitently, I may be inclined to 
 conceal your guilt. But I insist upon your leaving 
 that atrocious woman to me. I insist upon your 
 at once leaving this room." 
 
 " But damn it ! " Mr. Foster said, and it was 
 the first time he had ever sworn in his life, " I 
 must have some room somewhere. Mrs. Foster 
 has turned me out of my room, and I'm certainly 
 not going to let you turn me out of this." 
 
 Miss Peabody repeated stonily : "I insist upon 
 your leaving that atrocious woman to me." 
 
 " But there's no woman here but yourself, my 
 good soul," Mr. Foster said. " You can see that 
 there isn't." 
 
 Miss Peabody exclaimed : " Nonsense ! She's 
 hiding behind the curtains . She' s got under the bed . ' ' 
 
 Mr. Foster ejaculated : " By Heaven ! Women 
 are incomprehensible ! You're out of your senses. 
 It's a most extraordinary mistake." And after a 
 
300 THE PANEL 
 
 moment he added : " Come and look behind 
 the curtains. Come and get under the bed your- 
 self if you want to. I'm sick of all this." 
 
 Miss Peabody advanced right into the room. 
 She did look behind the curtains, and she satisfied 
 herself that the bed came so low that nobody 
 could possibly get under it. 
 
 And Mr. Foster by this time had become so 
 furiously enraged, that he began to run about the 
 room throwing open the wardrobes, the drawers 
 and the cover of his dressing-table. 
 
 " Look here, you infernal idiot," he said ; 
 " there you can see my suits. And there you can see 
 my vests and pants. And there you can see my 
 spare studs and my shaving things. Does that 
 satisfy you ? Miss Delamare doesn't shave." 
 
 Miss Peabody stood for a terrified moment with 
 her eyes so distended that he thought she would 
 burst the lids. 
 
 14 Then it's your room ! " she exclaimed. " How 
 horrible ! " She caught her breath sharply. " My 
 dear man," she exclaimed, " my dear friend, how 
 can I have wronged you ! " Her brain began to 
 swim and she made desperate and even exaggerated 
 efforts to get back to the courtly and old-fashioned 
 phraseology that she had always used when 
 speaking to Mr. Foster. " My good friend," she 
 repeated, " my dear friend ! My dear dear friend !" 
 And then, as she felt really faint, she said : " Sup- 
 
THE PANEL 801 
 
 port me ! You are so strong ! So noble ! Lay me 
 on my bed." And as she actually did totter, Mr. 
 Foster could not see anything for it but to try 
 and support her back into her own room. He 
 really did try, too, to carry her, but, as she was no 
 light weight, he hardly succeeded in doing more 
 than make her stumble along the floor. And then 
 he perceived Mrs. Foster standing in the square 
 opening. She exclaimed, in what he knew to be 
 tones of the deepest contempt : 
 
 " Mr. Foster ! Miss Peabody ! " 
 
 And this affected Mr. Foster so much that he 
 let go of Miss Peabody altogether. She collapsed 
 upon the floor like a badly jointed doll and gave 
 just one, but a very violent scream. Mr. Foster 
 stood perfectly still with his jaw hanging down, 
 and then Mrs. Foster said slowly : 
 
 " I presume you will explain what this means. 
 Or don't you intend to ? " 
 
 Mr. Foster began to giggle feebly. 
 
 " My dear," he said, " I don't know. I don't 
 know what it means. Miss Peabody came into my 
 room suddenly." 
 
 Mrs. Foster said simply : " So it appears " ; 
 and Miss Peabody remarked faintly from the floor : 
 " Mrs. Foster ! " 
 
 Then, suddenly, Mrs. Foster appeared to become 
 enraged. She rushed up to Miss Peabody, and 
 leaning over her exclaimed : 
 
302 THE PANEL 
 
 " Don't speak ! Don't you dare to speak, or 
 I will spurn your abandoned face with my foot." 
 
 Mr. Foster tried to get in a " But, my dear ..." 
 but Mrs. Foster, who was perfectly white with rage, 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " Hold your tongue ! " And then she added : 
 " This is what it means ! This is what it has all 
 meant. This is the meaning of your compliments 
 to that that thing. This is why I have been 
 thrown into the society of this woman that I always 
 detested. This is why my poor Edward must 
 marry her to cover up an abominable intrigue ..." 
 
 And then suddenly Miss Delamare and Mrs. 
 Kerr Howe appeared in the room behind. 
 
 " In the name of Heaven what's the matter ? " 
 Mrs. Kerr Howe said. " Who's that screaming ? " 
 And they both stood in the opening of the panel 
 with wide and incredulous eyes. 
 
 Mrs. Foster turned upon them with an immense 
 dignity. 
 
 " This is the matter," she exclaimed. " I have 
 discovered that that woman on the floor is the 
 basest of mortals. That she arid my husband ..." 
 
 " But that isn't possible," Mrs. Kerr Howe said. 
 
 Mrs. Foster answered : " But I tell you I saw it 
 with my own eyes. Mr. Foster was carrying this 
 woman in his arms. She had her arms round his 
 neck." 
 
 " Oh, I can't believe that," Miss Delamare said. 
 
THE PANEL 303 
 
 Mrs. Foster was beginning again : " She had her 
 arms round his neck. I heard her with my own ears 
 ask him to carry her to her bed. This is philan- 
 thropy ! This is the Suppression of Vice ! And to 
 think that it should be my husband and to think 
 that she's such a thing ! She's she's old I Her 
 teeth are false, her hair's false. I know it is. I've 
 seen it hanging over her looking-glass." 
 
 Miss Peabody began to scream lamentably, but 
 Mrs. Foster continued without pity : 
 
 " My dear, if he had wanted to betray me with 
 you, I shouldn't mind so much. You're young 
 and pretty and charming, and you've got a nice 
 heart and gay manners. Or if it had been you, 
 Mrs. Kerr Howe, it wouldn't have been so insulting. 
 You've got good looks, though you're too little to be 
 really handsome, and you dress well. And you 
 have got an intellect. But that it should be that 
 thing she's as old as myself or older, and she 
 dresses out of the rag-bag, and she's wizened and 
 she's spiteful and she's stupid ..." 
 
 She was interrupted by Mrs. Kerr Howe, who 
 remarked : 
 
 " Mrs. Foster, there's somebody knocking at the 
 door." And a deep silence fell upon them. They 
 heard the voice of Major Brent Foster exclaim 
 clearly from within : 
 
 " Olympia, may I come in ? They say they've 
 changed our rooms." And Mrs. Foster exclaimed : 
 
304 THE PANEL 
 
 " Oh, come in and look at this disgraceful 
 spectacle." 
 
 The major came in, with his amiable smile which 
 gradually changed into an appalled expression. 
 
 " Why, what ! " he ejaculated. " Olympia on the 
 floor ! Why, whatever ! . . . Olympia, get up. I've 
 bought you this ring in town." And he was crossing 
 the room to go to Olympiads side, when Mrs. Foster 
 stretched her arm rigidly across his chest. "My 
 dear," she said, " come away. You can't stop here." 
 
 " But what's the matter ? " he asked. 
 
 " We must go away," Mrs. Foster said. " You 
 and I and Flossie out of this house for good." 
 
 " But hang it all ! " the major said, " I must 
 have some sort of an explanation. You can't clear 
 out of the house as if you were taking a twopenny 
 ticket on the tube. What's the matter, Olympia ? " 
 
 But Mrs. Foster said, quite harshly : " Edward ! 
 No, don't speak to that that harlot." 
 
 It was at this word that Miss Peabody began to 
 scream again, and she screamed quite respectably 
 for some minutes. And then they perceived that 
 Miss Jenkins was coming into the room from 
 behind the hangings. She pushed them aside and 
 stood amongst them, rather rigidly, looking down 
 at Miss Peabody, her lower lip just curling in the 
 very slightest. 
 
 " I told you ! " she said in the lowest of voices. 
 
 The major became pale when he looked at 
 
THE PANEL 305 
 
 her. She was in what Mrs. Foster called a roofed- 
 in dress of dark blue silk. 
 
 "My God!" he ejaculated. "You here! I 
 insist upon some explanation." 
 
 But Mrs. Foster exclaimed : " No, no, my dear, 
 not now. We must go away. I couldn't explain 
 here. You would kill your uncle. I'm afraid 
 it would be your duty to kill your uncle." 
 
 The major exclaimed : " Good God ! Kill my 
 uncle ! What's the meaning of all this ? " 
 
 Miss Peabody got up from the ground. " Edward," 
 she said, " I will explain to you and to no one else." 
 
 " Well, I certainly think," the major commented, 
 " that somebody ought to explain to someone." 
 
 " Then I will explain to no one at all," Miss Pea- 
 body said. " I will leave this house at once." 
 
 "I should certainly advise you," Miss Jenkins said 
 slowly, "to give an entire explanation of everything. 
 I believe, miss, that you are perfectly innocent." 
 
 Miss Peabody looked at Miss Jenkins, and her 
 lips almost silently let fall the one word, " Devil ! " 
 Then she turned upon Major Foster. " There's no 
 need of explanation," she said. 
 
 But Miss Jenkins exclaimed with her level in- 
 tonation : "I don't know so much about that, 
 Miss Peabody. You see, the other night you said 
 that things didn't look so innocent. And yet the 
 other night ..." 
 
 Mrs. Foster said : " What's that about the other 
 u 
 
306 THE PANEL 
 
 night ? " with the sharpness of a cross-examining 
 barrister. 
 
 " It was a most infamous scene," Miss Peabody 
 said. " There were all these women running after 
 that fool of a nephew of yours." 
 
 " Oh, I say ! " the major exclaimed. " What 
 have / done, Olympia ? " 
 
 Miss Peabody turned upon him with an extra- 
 ordinary fierceness. "If you had had the spirit 
 of a man," she said, " you would have struck your 
 aunt dead at my feet." 
 
 " Oh, come, Olympia," the major said. " Kill my 
 aunt as well as my uncle ? I should be an orphan." 
 
 " You would have struck your aunt dead at 
 your feet," Miss Peabody repeated, "before you 
 would have let her utter the abominable insults 
 she has poured on me." 
 
 " But I haven't heard any of the insults," the 
 major said amiably. " She must have poured 
 them out before I came in." 
 
 " She didn't say a single word that was not 
 true," Miss Delamare exclaimed. " Not a single 
 word." 
 
 " You hear her ? " Miss Peabody exclaimed to 
 the major. " You hear her, and you don't strike 
 her to the ground at once ! " 
 
 " Oh, I say, Olympia," the major said. " You 
 want a town butcher for this job." 
 
 Miss Peabody was by now enraged past bearing. 
 
THE PANEL 307 
 
 And her face as she looked towards the major 
 trembled visibly. 
 
 " You utter imbecile ! " she said. " You grin- 
 ning, amiable fool. It's disgusting to me that I 
 ever saw your face, and it will disgust me so that 
 I shall be ill if I ever see your face again. This is 
 a house of madmen and fools and of corruption. 
 I leave this house at once. Send for my maid to 
 take away my things. I shall give no explanation ; 
 I shall go : for this house is Sodom and Gomorrah." 
 And suddenly she pulled off her engagement ring 
 and threw it at the major's feet. " My own car," 
 she continued, " will take me to town at once. I 
 say good night to nobody ; I say good-bye to 
 nobody. I only hope that all your sins may be 
 rewarded as they deserve." 
 
 And suddenly they perceived that Miss Peabody 
 was just gone. They had all been thinking so hard 
 along one train of thought or the other that it was 
 almost as if she had vanished into the ground 
 The major exclaimed : 
 
 ' 'Oh, I say ! We can't let the poor woman go off like 
 that . ' ' And he made a movement towards the door. 
 But Mrs. Foster caught him fiercely by the hand. 
 
 " Edward," she said, "if you go after that woman, 
 I will pray God to strike you dead at my feet." 
 
 " Oh, come," the major said, " you wouldn't do 
 that." 
 
 They all stood about awkwardly ; there simply 
 
308 THE PANEL 
 
 was not anyone there who had a word to say, it 
 seemed to have grown so extraordinarily quiet 
 with the absence of Miss Peabody. It was as if a 
 tempest had suddenly died away and left them 
 listening for departing gusts. And then suddenly 
 Miss Peabody's maid appeared in the room that 
 had been Miss Peabody's, and, without a word, 
 she began packing Miss Peabody's trunks. In 
 a sort of bewildered silence they all of them 
 began to help her. Miss Jenkins was the first to 
 do this, and then Mrs. Kerr Howe, and then Miss 
 Delamare. The girl was gone in an astonishingly 
 short space of time, and still they all hung about, 
 for everyone of them felt that he or she had some- 
 thing remarkable to say. But nobody said any- 
 thing ; only at last Miss Jenkins remarked : 
 
 " I think, Major Edward, if you would help me to 
 bring some of your things here it would be just as well. 
 I don't suppose Mrs. Foster would want the servants 
 to know anything more than they need know." 
 
 Nobody said anything, for Mrs. Foster was be- 
 ginning just slightly to whimper. 
 
 " And if," Miss Jenkins continued, " Mrs. Kerr 
 Howe and Miss Delamare will go to bed, it might 
 make things all the quieter. I'm certain Mrs. Foster 
 is wanting a quiet word with her husband." 
 
 And slowly, under Miss Jenkins's direction, they 
 all dissolved, until Mr. and Mrs. Foster were left 
 standing there alone. 
 
VII 
 
 AND suddenly, since she no longer had the 
 stimulating presence of Olympia to stiffen 
 her into hostility, Mrs. Foster burst into tears and 
 exclaimed : " How could you, Arthur ! " 
 
 Mr. Foster did the best that he could with 
 several sentences beginning with the words, " But, 
 my dear ..." He could not, however, finish 
 any of them. And then Mrs. Foster began to 
 speak with a real and quite touching mournfulness. 
 
 " Again I have got to say," she exclaimed, " how 
 could you, Arthur ! For although I have known 
 for years that you haven't been a good husband 
 to me in that sort of way, it didn't seem somehow 
 to matter to me. I know I ought to have been 
 enraged ; I know it is highly improper of me it's 
 probably not even virtuous of me not to have 
 made frightful scenes. I suppose I ought to have 
 cared, but I simply did not see how I could care. 
 I've sat up in bed at night trying to shake myself 
 into rages, but I just couldn't. But when it comes 
 to this this is so unnatural this is so horrible." 
 
 " But I'm damned," Mr. Foster said, " if I 
 understand what this is ! I know I ought not to 
 
310 THE PANEL 
 
 swear, but I simply can't help it. What's it all 
 about ? What is this ? . . . " 
 
 Mrs. Foster contented herself with remarking 
 still more mournfully : " How could you ! How 
 could you ! " 
 
 " But hang and confound you," her husband 
 exclaimed, " I couldn't ! I didn't do anything ; 
 I don't know what it's all about." 
 
 44 But she was in your room," Mrs. Foster said. 
 
 " She was," her husband answered ; " but I 
 can't help that. I don't know what happened. 
 I had been reading a book, and suddenly the wall 
 opened and then she came in and accused me of 
 having Miss Delamare concealed there. She came 
 in to search the room." 
 
 A new anger overwhelmed Mrs. Foster. 
 
 " What business," she exclaimed, " what 
 business was it of that woman to search your 
 room unless you had given her a right to be 
 jealous ? Why did you let her ? " 
 
 " My dear," Mr. Foster said, " how in the world 
 could I stop her ? She was like a sort of policeman 
 over me. You know she was like a sort of police- 
 man over me." 
 
 " Yet," Mrs. Foster said, " I found you carrying 
 her." 
 
 " She was fainting," Mr. Foster replied. 
 
 " It doesn't matter whether she was fainting or 
 not," his wife said. " If you could have carried 
 
THE PANEL 311 
 
 her out, you could have stopped her coming in a 
 great strong man like you. No, I am convinced of 
 it, you had arranged with her beforehand to press 
 that knob and open that panel." 
 
 Mr. Foster said bewilderedly : " What panel ? 
 What panel ? " And when his wife had explained 
 he seized his advantage quickly, and with a quite 
 virtuous indignation, he said : 
 
 " You knew about that panel. I didn't. You 
 changed my room. I didn't. It's you who are to 
 blame; I am certainly not. I was as obedient as any 
 husband ought to be. I was trying to read a book 
 you told me to read in a room you told me to be in, 
 and suddenly I'm hanged if it didn't feel as if 
 all the pots from the side of a grocer's shop fell on 
 my head at once. It was all entirely your fault." 
 
 " It's no good your trying to get out of it like 
 that, Arthur," Mrs. Foster said. 
 
 " But I am going to get out of it like that," her 
 husband answered energetically. " I've had too 
 much of it ; I'm going to take a stand. Not only 
 did you put me in this room, but you put that 
 woman in that other room." 
 
 " I certainly didn't," she answered. " It was 
 Teddy's room, and it has always been Teddy's 
 
 room." 
 
 " That's all nonsense," Mr. Foster said. " You're 
 the mistress of this house. It's your business to 
 arrange people's rooms." 
 
312 THE PANEL 
 
 
 " But that's just the whole thing," Mrs. Foster 
 said. " I've never been the mistress of this house. 
 That's been the whole cause of complaint with me. 
 I may be now, though Heaven knows what other 
 woman mayn't come wriggling in . . ." And just 
 at that moment Miss Jenkins came into the major's 
 room carrying his kit-bag. And because Mrs. 
 Foster felt that things were entirely at a deadlock 
 between herself and her husband, since they were 
 each accusing the other with words of the utmost 
 veracity and sincereness, Mrs. Foster turned upon 
 Miss Jenkins and said : 
 
 " Now, Miss Jenkins, my dear, perhaps you will 
 kindly tell Mr. Foster who is the real mistress of 
 this house. I know I sit at the head of the table, 
 and I know the servants call me ' ma'am ' ; but 
 who, for instance, has had the arranging of the 
 bedrooms ? Who is really responsible for these 
 extraordinary scenes ? For that's the person who 
 is the real mistress of the house." 
 
 Miss Jenkins looked quite softly at Mrs. Foster. 
 " Well, if you ask me, ma'am," she said, " I should 
 just simply say that I think I am." 
 
 She added, looking down at the kit-bag that she 
 still held : 
 
 " You see, I am arranging it even now." 
 
 " Then perhaps," Mr. Foster exclaimed quite con- 
 fidently, " you will kindly explain what the whole 
 of this confounded business has really meant." 
 
THE PANEL 318 
 
 " I am sure," Miss Jenkins said, " that I am 
 perfectly ready to explain everything, and to take 
 every possible kind of responsibility. And I am 
 perfectly ready to begin by saying that everybody 
 in the house is entirely innocent of any kind of 
 guilt except Miss Peabody, whose motor has just 
 gone tearing down the avenue. If it hadn't, I 
 should not be quite so ready to explain. But she's 
 safely out of it, and we're all safely out of it. So 
 that I can quite well say that even she has not 
 been guilty of anything except simple spite." 
 
 " You don't expect me to believe that ! " Mrs. 
 Foster said. 
 
 "I do, ma'am," Miss Jenkins answered. " I 
 expect you to believe every word that I say. For 
 if I've said that I've been responsible for all this 
 arrangement, I certainly expect it to be believed 
 that I was not aiding and abetting Miss Peabody 
 or anybody else to do anything that could be 
 called immoral." 
 
 " Well, I think I will allow that," Mrs. Foster said. 
 
 " I think you will have to, ma'am," Miss Jenkins 
 answered. "I'm not going to say that Miss Pea- 
 body didn't insist on being transferred to this 
 room ; because she did. She didn't do it with 
 any view to midnight interviews with Mr. Foster. 
 And Mr. Foster could not possibly have had any 
 idea of midnight interviews with Miss Peabody, 
 because he hadn't the slightest idea in any manner 
 
314 THE PANEL 
 
 of speaking of where he really was. He was just 
 planked down in a room he didn't know. So that 
 clears him. And I don't really suppose that he in 
 the least wanted any midnight conversation with 
 Miss Peabody because, as a matter of fact, I know 
 pretty well that he was just hiding in his bedroom 
 in order to get away from Miss Peabody." 
 
 " Why should he want to get away from Miss 
 Peabody ? " Mrs. Foster asked. 
 
 " Well, just because, ma'am," Miss Jenkins 
 answered, " because he signed the contract for the 
 new theatre with Miss Delamare this evening after 
 dinner." 
 
 Mrs. Foster said, " Oh ! " 
 
 " So that you can understand," Miss Jenkins 
 continued, " that Mr. Foster was not particularly 
 anxious to have an interview with the lady. And 
 I daresay you can understand that Miss Peabody 
 was anxious to have an interview with Miss 
 Delamare. That was why she insisted upon hav- 
 ing this bedroom. That is why we're all all of 
 us feeling perceptibly happier." 
 
 Mrs. Foster looked at Miss Jenkins. " What a 
 way you have of understanding things, Miss 
 Jenkins, my dear," she said. " For it's perfectly 
 true that we're all of us ever so much happier. I 
 think I was heartbroken, but the minute that 
 woman went out of the room I knew I was stand- 
 ing on what some poet called his native heath, 
 
THE PANEL 315 
 
 though, of course, this isn't really my own 
 house." 
 
 " Oh, well, for all practical purposes," Miss 
 Jenkins said, " you can consider it absolutely 
 your own house." 
 
 " But I never shall really," Mrs. Foster answered. 
 " Not really quite absolutely." 
 
 " I wouldn't make too certain of that, ma'am," 
 Miss Jenkins said. 
 
 Mrs. Foster looked at her with bewildered eyes 
 that gradually widened and widened. And then 
 she asked as a certain enlightenment seemed to 
 pass across her mild and simple features : 
 
 " You really think you can manage that ? " 
 
 " I really mean, ma'am," Miss Jenkins said, 
 " that I wouldn't be too certain that I couldn't 
 and that you could be perfectly and absolutely 
 certain that if I could, you would, in a manner of 
 speaking, be standing on your native heath." 
 
 " I don't understand what this is all about," 
 Mr. Foster said. " But women are always incom- 
 prehensible, so it doesn't matter. I want to know 
 if there is any charge hanging over my head." 
 
 Mrs. Foster looked at Miss Jenkins. " Then 
 this," she said, " is really the happiest day of my 
 life. For even Mr. Foster, for the first time since 
 I've known him, has really behaved like a man, 
 and you can't imagine what an immense satisfac- 
 tion that is to me. For he has just said, ' Damn 
 
316 THE PANEL 
 
 
 it I * quite loud and strong, and he has just stood 
 up to me as if he hadn't got a backbone that was 
 made of india-rubber. . . . Yes, yes, for the very 
 first time ! For, for the whole of his life he has 
 been cringing before me because he has been 
 afraid that I should find out about some red- 
 haired shopgirl out of a glass case, and I have 
 known all the time, especially when he came home 
 with the whiskers that he used to wear damaged 
 and bedraggled. And I've known and I haven't 
 cared, and I've been so ashamed of not having 
 cared that I haven't dared to tell him for fear he 
 should tell me that I was immoral. And now it's 
 all come out, and he has really stood up and spoken 
 like a man ; and that alone is enough to make me 
 happier than I've ever been since my wedding-day. 
 And if only my Edward were here ..." 
 
 " Oh," Miss Jenkins said, " I told him to wait 
 outside the door till I said he could come in. He's 
 there quite all right. But I thought it was not 
 quite fitting that he should hear the delicate 
 things I knew we should have to discuss." 
 
 " But we've really discussed everything, Miss 
 Jenkins my dear," Mrs. Foster said, " and I don't 
 think he should be kept outside the door any 
 longer than is absolutely necessary, for these 
 corridors are cold and draughty and nasty and 
 anxious sort of places, and it's all so cleared up, 
 and there are such tremendous weights off my 
 
THE PANEL 817 
 
 mind ; so that I think we ought to let my dear 
 Edward come in and tell him that I am going to 
 have him too all to myself for the rest of the time." 
 
 " I should not be too certain of that, ma'am," 
 Miss Jenkins said softly. " And I should not be 
 too certain that we've discussed all the delicate 
 things that we've got to discuss, because I want a 
 little direction from you on that very subject." 
 
 " What very subject ? " Mr. Foster asked. 
 But Mrs. Foster continued composedly : 
 
 " The only thing that I stipulate is that the 
 next one he chooses shan't be an old maid with a 
 skin like lawyers' parchment, and a temper like 
 what Lucifer is said to have, though I don't 
 believe his can be really as bad." 
 
 " I don't think, ma'am," Miss Jenkins said, 
 " that she will be that. Though, of course, it isn't 
 for me to say. But perhaps, ma'am, if you tell 
 me just exactly what it is you want, I might be 
 able to provide you with something that would 
 come up to sample. For you must remember, 
 ma'am, that you promised me 4000, and that I 
 might have the major for myself if I got that 
 woman out of the house. And I have got that 
 woman out of the house, as everyone will clearly 
 acknowledge. So that if you don't feel inclined 
 to keep your promise though as for the 4000 
 I don't want it I should just like to know what 
 it is that exactly you do want what it is that 
 
318 THE PANEL 
 
 would suit you exactly and absolutely down to 
 the ground." 
 
 Mrs. Foster looked almost piteously at Miss 
 Jenkins. 
 
 " Miss Jenkins my dear," she said, " I have 
 always felt that you were one of the family, I 
 have felt from the very first moment I came here 
 and with no disloyalty to Flossie, for that's 
 quite another sort of thing, and she doesn't strike 
 me as being so much a woman as a child that 
 you were the very nicest woman I have ever met, 
 and that if you had certain other things which 
 you don't appear to have but you're so extra- 
 ordinary that there's no knowing what you have 
 or haven't, or might have, or mightn't have that 
 it would make me the very happiest woman in the 
 world if you married my Edward. For you are 
 capable and sensible, and more handsome than 
 anybody I have ever seen, and good-tempered 
 and disciplined. I can tell that because you have 
 such an excellent quiet way of being a servant, 
 and you're high-spirited, and you like your fun, 
 and you can make anyone in the world fond of 
 you . . ." 
 
 " I think, ma'am," Miss Jenkins interrupted 
 her, " that I know quite well what I am, but I 
 should just like you to tell me what you want me 
 to have." 
 
 Mrs. Foster looked at Miss Jenkins with the 
 
THE PANEL 319 
 
 expression of a child that gazes into the fire in 
 search of fairy palaces. 
 
 " I don't quite exactly know," she said. " It 
 isn't what I want her to have so much, for I almost 
 hope she won't have much money so that he can't 
 be said to be dependent on her ; but I hope she 
 will be of good family, because he's of good family 
 himself, his father, the admiral, being descended, 
 as I have heard him say many times, from the old 
 ancient kings of Ireland, and moving in the society 
 of the best in the land. And I wouldn't object to 
 her having a title, because that's a nice thing, too, 
 though Heaven knows I've never wanted it my- 
 self. A title and a house like this and a little 
 estate like this but not too big ..." 
 
 " Of course, ma'am," Miss Jenkins said, " you're 
 talking about Lady Savylle. Well, I don't see 
 any difficulty about that, ma'am." 
 
 Mrs. Foster had come altogether too near it 
 already to start now. And she just said : 
 
 ' You mean that Lady Lady Savylle would 
 marry him ? " 
 
 " I'm perfectly certain she will, ma'am," Miss 
 Jenkins said, " the moment he asks her." 
 
 "But he loves her," Mrs. Foster said. "He 
 loves her most devotedly." 
 
 " I believe he does, ma'am," Miss Jenkins 
 answered. 
 
 It was at that moment that Mr. Foster saw 
 
320 THE PANEL 
 
 
 something confident and manlike to say, and he 
 remarked : 
 
 " If Edward doesn't propose to Lady Savylle 
 to-morrow, I will cut him straight out of my will." 
 
 And it was really his turn to be surprised when 
 Miss Jenkins remarked : 
 
 " I should not, if I were you, be too astonished 
 if he did it to-night." 
 
 44 But surely," Mr. Foster said, 44 it's too late. 
 You don't expect him to get on a horse and go 
 galloping ... I mean, I shouldn't like it myself. 
 His eyes have got to be considered." 
 
 Miss Jenkins remarked : 44 Then if all that has 
 got to be considered, and if you really think it is 
 getting near the statutory hour for barring pro- 
 posals of marriage, don't you think it would make 
 it come a little earlier if you went into the next 
 room and I closed the panel you and Mrs. Foster 
 for the major is waiting outside with a port- 
 manteau on his back, and the sooner I have a 
 word with him the sooner all this will be settled 
 to everybody's satisfaction." 
 
 The grim men and the vacant women marched 
 across the old couple as they went into the pink 
 room, and Miss Jenkins, closed in and up against 
 it, stood with her hand still upon the knob. She 
 was undoubtedly panting slightly, and she looked 
 at the little secret door of escape that was only 
 half hidden by the shadowy arras. The electric 
 
THE PANEL 321 
 
 light had never got itself repaired, so that she and 
 the room and the great picture and the great bed 
 were only shadowily lit by the pair of long wax 
 candles on the dressing-table. But she abandoned 
 her impulse of flight and called boldly enough : 
 
 " Now you can come in, Major Edward." 
 
 The major pushed the door open with the port- 
 manteau that was upon his shoulder, but that was 
 the last use that he made of it, for he pitched it 
 straight on to the ground, and rushing forward 
 with extended arms, he grasped Miss Jenkins and 
 kissed her repeatedly upon every one of her 
 features that his lips could be expected to reach. 
 
 " I've brought it off at last," he gasped. " I've 
 kissed somebody at last." 
 
 Miss Jenkins with quite a firm grasp removed 
 his hands from her shoulders. 
 
 " And don't you think it is very wrong of you, 
 sir ? " she asked. 
 
 " I'm hanged if I do," the major said. " I'm 
 not engaged to Olympia now." 
 
 " But you are in love with her Ladyship," Miss 
 Jenkins answered. 
 
 " I am in love with you, with you, with you," 
 the major said. 
 
 " But you have got to marry Lady Savylle," 
 Miss Jenkins asserted. " Your uncle says he will 
 cut you out of his will if you don't propose to her 
 to-morrow." 
 
322 THE PANEL 
 
 " I am proposing to you to-night," Major Foster 
 said. " Will you marry me ? " 
 
 " But you have got to marry money or a title, 
 sir," she informed him. " One or the other." 
 
 " I don't care," he answered. " You've got to 
 marry me." 
 
 " A poor servant, sir ? " Miss Jenkins said. 
 " You'll be cut out of your uncle's will." 
 
 " I don't care," he exclaimed. " I'll work." 
 
 "You couldn't, sir," she said. "You'll have 
 to leave the army altogether if you marry a servant. 
 You'll have to live on my wages." 
 
 " Oh, they'll do for two," the major answered. 
 " I'll come as butler." 
 
 Miss Jenkins was searching on his dressing- 
 table. " You haven't got a piece of paper ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 He produced from his kit-bag a complete sheet 
 of note-paper. " What do you want paper f or ? " 
 he asked. 
 
 " To write upon, sir," she answered. 
 
 " Well, you can have half the sheet," he said, 
 and he tore it in half. " You want to make me 
 sign a promise to marry you ; then I shall make 
 you sign a promise to marry me. You're a wicked, 
 cunning, intricate and slippery eel, and you are 
 not going to get out of it." He lent her a fountain- 
 pen from his travelling desk, and she wrote a very 
 short message that could not have been more than 
 
THE PANEL 323 
 
 three words by the scratching of the pen. She 
 folded the sheet of paper carefully, and then re- 
 garded him with a sort of humorous intentness. 
 
 " You're determined to marry me, sir ? " she 
 said. " It does seem a pity when we had it all so 
 nicely arranged, your uncle, your aunt and I. 
 You were to marry someone with a title and a 
 little house like this, and a little estate like 
 this." 
 
 " I am going to marry you," the major said. 
 
 She held the paper towards him. " Then you 
 had better read this when I am gone," she 
 said. 
 
 " Here, you wait a minute," he commanded 
 cheerfully. " I can do a little bit of writing, too ; 
 give me my pen." 
 
 He scribbled four words upon his piece of paper, 
 folded it and held it out towards her. " Turn 
 about 's fair trading," he said. " You give me 
 your paper, and you can have mine ; but you're 
 to read yours here and I will read mine." 
 
 She looked at him with an odd smile, and he 
 said: 
 
 " Well, this is what we call the game of conse- 
 quences. You've just got to bear them. Open 
 your paper." 
 
 " No, open yours first," she said. 
 
 He remarked, " Oh, well ..." And then he read. 
 " Oh, is that all ? " he exclaimed nonchalantly. 
 
324 THE PANEL 
 
 " All ? " she ejaculated. 
 
 " Well," he said, " if you look at your paper 
 you will see that there is only one word in each of 
 them that differs. You've written, ' I'm Nancy 
 Savylle,' and I've written, ' You're Nancy 
 Savylle.' It seems a silly thing to have done, but 
 it's what you wanted, and I suppose it's my job 
 in life to give you what you want." 
 
 " Then you knew all the time ? " she said. 
 
 " All the blessed, blessed time," he answered. 
 " Don't you suppose that though the eyes in my 
 head are damaged they didn't know you from the 
 start, though you puzzled me ? And don't you 
 suppose it has been a blessed, blessed time just 
 being in the same house with you, and just having 
 you fluttering round, and just knowing and just 
 loving and just wondering just wondering what 
 you were going to do ? And wasn't it just the 
 blessing of God only to sit in this room and to know 
 it was full of you where you had been walking 
 round and round so that the trace of your foot- 
 steps interlaced, and every bit of the air in which 
 must have touched you and kissed you ? And 
 don't you suppose ..." 
 
 " Oh, you Irish villain ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 " Oh, you wicked, designing witch ! " he an- 
 swered. " How did you dare to do it ?" 
 
 " Do you suppose," she mimicked him, " that 
 I could bear you to be in England a minute and 
 
THE PANEL 825 
 
 me knowing it and not being with you every 
 second of the time ? And don't you suppose I 
 have passed every minute of the time that I could 
 spare from these botherations just being in this 
 room when you were not in it, and just looking at 
 the cold ashes of the wood and just thinking how 
 they had glowed when you looked upon them ? 
 And haven't you been the sun in the air to me, 
 and the sky that carries it all, and the green of 
 the grass, and the love that is in all the world ? 
 And don't you suppose that when I have laughed 
 at you I have trembled too, because I knew it was 
 you that was the master of me ? And don't you 
 suppose ..." And she put her hands upon his 
 shoulders and drew him close against her. " Don't 
 you suppose . . ." 
 
 " What a ..." he was beginning, when again 
 she interrupted him with : 
 
 " Now, my wild Irishman, don't you be saying 
 that I am anything, and I won't be giving you any 
 title. But just let's remember that it's not you, 
 and it's not me, but it's just us from now on to 
 the end of the time, and just say what's fit for 
 both our mouths . . . and that's what a pair of us 
 we are ! " 
 
 " What a pair of us we are ! " he repeated en- 
 thusiastically. And just at that moment there 
 was not any panel there at all, and Mrs. Foster 
 was remarking : 
 
326 THE PANEL 
 
 " Teddy, there's a knob on this side of the panel 
 as well as on that ; we've just found it." She 
 surveyed contentedly the couple who were dis- 
 engaging themselves from each other's arms, and 
 she remarked : " Ah ! " 
 
 " So that," Miss Jenkins said, " you really ex- 
 pected this all the time." 
 
 " I certainly really suspected something of the 
 sort from the very beginning," Mrs. Foster said. 
 " From the first moment that I set eyes on on 
 her Ladyship's Own Maid." 
 
 " Oh, you wicked old person ! " Miss Jenkins 
 said. 
 
 "My dear," Mrs. Foster replied, "the first 
 thing I learned in my life from Edward's father, 
 the admiral, was that it's best to let young people 
 alone. For he nearly bit my head off when I tried 
 to give Edward's mother good advice during their 
 courting. And a very rash and sudden thing it 
 was, for it only lasted three days from the time 
 when he came into the shop to order twenty 
 pounds of wax candles for the captain's cabin, 
 because things were different in those days. 
 And I think you will acknowledge that I have let 
 you alone ... I think you will acknowledge 
 that I have done my best for my dear Edward. 
 And if a woman really sets herself to do her best, 
 there's not anything in this silly world that is 
 going to prevent her doing it." 
 
THE PANEL 327 
 
 " But hang it all ! " Mr. Foster said, attempting 
 to assert for the last time his masculine dig- 
 nity ; " do you suppose I didn't suspect something, 
 too ? " 
 
 THE END. 
 
PRINTED BV 
 
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UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
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