VAIN FORTUNE
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 BY 
 
 GEORGE MOORE 
 
 AUTHOR OF "A MUMMER'S WIFE," "IMPRESSIONS AND 
 OPINIONS," " A DRAMA IN MUSLIN," ETC. 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 
 1892
 
 COPTBIQHT, 1899, BY 
 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 
 
 Press of J. J. Little & Co. 
 As tor Place, New York
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " DEAREST Emily, you must prepare your- 
 self for the worst" 
 
 "Is he dead?" 
 
 " Yes ; he passed away quite quietly. To 
 look at him one would say he was asleep ; he 
 does not appear to have suffered at all." 
 
 " Oh, Julia, Julia, do you think he for- 
 gave me? I could not do what he asked 
 me. ... I loved him very dearly as a father, 
 but I could not have married him." 
 
 " No, dear, you could not Such a mar- 
 riage would have been most unnatural ; he was 
 more than forty years older than you." 
 
 "I do not think he ever thought of such a 
 thing until about a month or six weeks ago. 
 You remember how I ran to you ? I was as 
 white as a ghost, and I trembled like a leaf. 
 I could hardly speak. . . . You remember?"
 
 2 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 " Yes, I remember ; and some hours after, 
 when I came into this room, he was standing 
 there, just there, on the hearth-rug ; there was 
 a fearful look of pain and despair on his 
 face he looked as if he was going mad. I 
 never saw such a look before, and I never 
 wish to see such a look again. And the 
 effort he made to appear unconcerned when 
 he saw me was perhaps the worst part of it. 
 I pretended to see nothing, and walked away 
 towards the window and looked out. But 
 all the while I could feel that some terrible 
 drama was passing behind me. At last I 
 had to look round. He was sitting in that 
 chair, his elbows on his knees, clasping his 
 head with both hands, the old, gnarled fingers 
 twined in the iron-gray hair. Then, unable 
 to contain himself any longer, he rushed out 
 of the room, out of the house, and across the 
 park." 
 
 " You say that he passed away quietly ; he 
 did not seem to suffer at all ? " 
 
 " No, he never recovered consciousness." 
 
 " But do you think that my refusal to marry 
 him had anything to do with his death ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, Emily ; a fit of apoplexy, with a 
 man of his age, generally ends fatally."
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 3 
 
 " Even if I had known it all beforehand I 
 don't think I could have acted differently. I 
 could not have married him. Indeed I could- 
 n't, Julia, not even if I kew I should save 
 his life by doing so. I dare say it is very 
 wicked of me, but " 
 
 " Dearest Emily, you must not give way to 
 such thoughts ; you did quite right in refus- 
 ing to marry Mr. Burnett. It was very 
 wrong of him even to think of asking you, 
 and if he had lived he would have seen how 
 wrong it was of him to desire such a thing." 
 
 " If he had lived ! But then he didn't live, 
 not even long enough to forgive me, and when 
 we think of how much he suffered I don't 
 mean in dying, you say he passed away quiet- 
 ly, but all this last month how heart-broken 
 he looked ! You remember when he sat at the 
 head of the table, never speaking to us, and 
 how frightened I was lest I should meet him 
 on the stairs ; I used to stand at the door of 
 my room, afraid to move. I know he suffered, 
 poor old man. I was very, very sorry for him. 
 Indeed I was, Julia, for I'm not selfish, and 
 when I think now that he died without for- 
 giving me, I feel, I feel oh, I feel as if I 
 should like to die myself. Why do such
 
 4 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 things happen to me? I feel just as miser- 
 able now as I used to when I lived with father 
 and mother, who could not agree. I have 
 often told you how miserable I was then, but 
 I don't think you ever quite understood. I 
 feel just the same now, just as if I never 
 wanted to see any one or anything again. I 
 was so unhappy when I was a child, they 
 thought I would die, and I should have 
 died if I had remained listening to father 
 and mother any longer. . . . Every one 
 thought I was so lucky when Mr. Burnett 
 decided to adopt me and leave me all his 
 money, and he has done that, poor old man, 
 so I suppose I should be happy ; but I'm not." 
 
 The girl's eyes turned instinctively towards 
 the window and rested for a moment on the 
 fair, green prospects of the park. 
 
 "I hated to listen to father and mother 
 quarrelling, but I loved them, and I had not 
 been here a year before father died, and dar- 
 ling mother was not long following him only 
 six months. Then I had no one : a few distant 
 relatives, whom I knew nothing of, whom I 
 did not care for, so I gave all my love to Mr. 
 Burnett He was so good to me ; he never 
 denied me anything; he gave me everything,
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 5 
 
 even you, dearest Julia. When he thought 
 I wanted a companion, he found you for me. 
 I learned to love you. You became my best 
 and dearest friend. Then things seemed to 
 brighten up, and I thought I was happy, when 
 all this dreadful trouble came upon us. Don't 
 let's speak of it more than we can help. I often 
 wished myself dead. Didn't you, Julia ? " 
 
 Emily Watson told the story of her misfor- 
 tunes in a low, musical voice, heedless of two 
 or three interruptions, hardly conscious of her 
 listener, impressed and interested by the fatal- 
 ity of circumstances which she believed in de- 
 sign against her. She was a small, slender girl 
 of about eighteen. Her abundant chestnut hair 
 exquisite, soft, and silky -was looped pict- 
 uresquely and fastened with a thin tortoise- 
 shell comb. The tiny mouth trembled, and the 
 large, prominent eyes reflected a strange, yearn- 
 ing soul. She was dressed in white muslin, 
 and the fantastically small waist was confined 
 with a white band. Her friend and companion, 
 Julia Bentley, was a woman of about thirty, 
 well above the medium height, full-bosomed 
 and small-waisted. The type was Anglo- 
 Saxon even to commonplace. The face was 
 long, with a look of instinctive kindness upon
 
 6 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 it. She was given to staring, and as she looked 
 at Emily, her blue eyes filled with an expres- 
 sion which told of a nature at once affectionate 
 and intelligent. Her intelligence was expressed 
 also in her broad forehead, but about the 
 lower part of the face there was an ominous 
 droop, not ugly nor wicked, only indicative 
 of weakness of will. Notwithstanding this 
 defect and the commonplaceness of the type, 
 she would have passed anywhere for a hand- 
 some woman. The features were well formed, 
 and the rich pink-and-white complexion and 
 blond gold hair were sufficient to constitute 
 a claim to good looks. She was dressed in 
 yellow linen, and wore a gold bracelet on a 
 well-turned arm. 
 
 The room was a long, old-fashioned drawing- 
 room. It had three windows, and all three 
 were filled with views of the park, now grow- 
 ing pale in the evening air. The flower- 
 gardens were drawn symmetrically about the 
 house and were set with blue flower vases in 
 which there were red geraniums. It was a 
 very large room, nearly forty feet long, with 
 old portraits on the walls ugly things and ill 
 done ; and where there were no portraits the 
 walls were decorated with vine leaves and
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 7 
 
 mountai ns. The parquetted floor was parti ally 
 covered with skins, and the furniture seemed 
 to have known many a generation ; some of 
 it was heavy and cumbersome, some of it was 
 modern. There was. a grand piano, and above 
 it two full-length portraits a lady in a blue 
 dress and a man in black velvet knee- 
 breeches. At the end of a long silence, Emily 
 suddenly threw herself weeping into Julia's 
 arms. 
 
 " Oh, you are my only friend ; you will 
 not leave me now. . . . We shall always 
 love one another, shall we not? If anything 
 ever came between us it would kill me. . . . 
 That poor old man lying dead up-stairs ! He 
 loved me very dearly, and T loved him, too. 
 Yet I said just now I could not have married 
 him even if I had known it would save his 
 life. I was wrong ; yes, I would have mar- 
 ried him if I had known. . . . You don't 
 believe me? " 
 
 " My dearest girl, you must try to forget 
 that Mr. Burnett ever entertained so foolish 
 a thought. He was a very good man, and 
 loved you for a long time as he should have 
 loved you as a daughter. We shall respect 
 his memory best by forgetting the events, of
 
 8 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 the last six weeks. And now, Emily, dinner 
 will be ready at seven o'clock, and it is now 
 six. What are you going to do ? " 
 
 " I shall go out for a little walk. I shall go 
 down and see the swans." 
 
 " Shall I come with you ? M 
 
 " No, thank you, dear ; I think I'd sooner be 
 alone. I want to think." 
 
 Julia looked a moment anxiously at this 
 fragile girl, whose tiny head was poised on a 
 long, delicate neck like a fruit on its stem. 
 
 " Yes, go for a walk, dear," said Julia ; " it 
 will do you good. Shall I go and fetch your 
 hat and jacket ? " 
 
 " No, thank you, I will not trouble you; I'll 
 go myself." 
 
 " No, Emily, I think you had better let me 
 
 go-" 
 
 " Oh, no; I am not afraid." And she went 
 up the wide oak staircase, thinking of the 
 man who lay dead in the room at the end of 
 the passage. She was conscious of a sense of 
 dread; the house seemed to wear a strange 
 air, and her dog, Dandy, was conscious of it, 
 too ; he was more silent, less joyful than usual. 
 And when she came from her room, dressed to 
 go out, instead of rushing down-stairs, bark-
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 9 
 
 ing with joy, he dropped his tail and lingered 
 at the end of the passage. She called him ; 
 he still hesitated, and then, yielding to a sud- 
 den desire, she went down the passage and 
 knocked at the door of the room. The 
 nurse answered her knock. 
 
 " Oh, don't come in, miss." 
 
 " Why not? I want to see him before he 
 goes away forever." The nurse drew back. 
 How still he lay ! Never would that face 
 speak or laugh or see again. Upon the limp, 
 white curtains of an old four-posted bed she 
 saw the memorable profile stern, unrelent- 
 ing soon to fall away into hideous dust. 
 Although sixty-five, his head was covered 
 with short, thick, iron-gray hair ; the beard, 
 too, was short and thick, and iron-gray. The 
 face was rugged, and when Emily touched the 
 coarse hand, telling of a life of toil, she started 
 it was singularly cold. Fear and sorrow in 
 like measure choked her, and her soul awoke, 
 and tremblingly she walked out of the house, 
 glad to breathe the sweet evening air. She 
 walked towards the artificial water. The sky 
 was melancholy and gray, and the park lay 
 before her, silent and sad, hushed and still. 
 She leaned on the balustrade of the bridge,
 
 10 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 realizing more distinctly than she had ever 
 done before the spectacle of life. Through 
 the shadows of the darkening island two 
 swans floated softly, leaving behind slight 
 silver lines ; above, the swallows flew high in 
 the evening. Peace and profound silence, 
 reflections distinct but colorless, forgetful- 
 ness of the past. There was sensation of 
 death, too, in this cold, mournful water, and 
 in the silence that hung about it, and in some 
 vague way it reminded Emily of her own life. 
 She had known little else but death ; her life 
 seemed full of death ; and those reflections, so 
 distinct and so colorless, were like the mem- 
 ories lying within her soul. In a sudden ex- 
 pansion of youth she wondered. How won- 
 derful all things were, how wonderful I Her 
 own trembling life, so strangely personal, so 
 strangely intense, what did it mean, what 
 meaning had it in the great, wide world ? The 
 impressive tranquillity of the scene and the 
 hour, the pale death of the day, lying now like 
 a flower on the water, raised her out of her- 
 self, and she saw and felt more distinctly than 
 she had ever done before. There arose in her a 
 nervous and passionate interest in herself. She 
 seemed so strange, so wonderful. Her child-
 
 VAIN FORTUNE H 
 
 hood was in itself an enigma, and an enchant- 
 ment that sad and sorrowful childhood of 
 hers, passed in that old London house; her 
 mother's love for her; her cruel, stern step- 
 father, and the endless quarrels between her 
 father and mother, which made her young life 
 so unbearable, so wretched, that she could 
 never think of those years without tears rising 
 to her eyes. And then the going away, com- 
 ing to live with Mr. Burnett ! The death of 
 her father and her dear mother, so sudden, 
 following so soon one after the other. How 
 much there had been in her life, how wonder- 
 ful it was ! Her love of Mr. Burnett, and then 
 that bitter and passionate change in him! 
 That proposal of marriage ; could she ever 
 forget it? And then this cruel and sudden 
 death. Everything she had ever loved had 
 been taken from her. Only Julia remained, 
 and should Julia be taken from her, she felt 
 that she must die. But that would not, could 
 not, happen. She was now mistress of Ash- 
 wood, she was a great heiress ; and she and 
 Julia would live always together, they would 
 always love one another, they would always 
 live here in this beautiful place which they 
 loved so well.
 
 12 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 The dream pursued its lightening way ; the 
 shadows thickened on the waters. A silver 
 star appeared, and in the darkness where the 
 swans were floating, and in the sky where the 
 star was shining, there passed at intervals a 
 vision a vision of a face, something with 
 light on its hair, and a sad smile on its lips. 
 That was all she could see of the face, for when 
 she looked closer it vanished, and she had for- 
 gotten it It returned tantalizingly, like the 
 memory of a faded picture. She smiled at 
 herself, and said to herself that she wanted 
 no young man, nor any love but Julia's. She 
 would never marry, of that she was sure. 
 She and Julia would live together always, 
 and then, and then ? She could not see her- 
 self as an old woman. She felt she would not 
 live to be an old woman. What would be her 
 end? She could imagine no appropriate end, 
 for she was so different, so unlike other girls. 
 Then, awaking suddenly from her dream, 
 she walked towards the house, a little dazed, a 
 little frightened, for her dream lay heavily 
 upon her.
 
 CHAPTER It 
 
 A FEW distant relatives attended the fu- 
 neral, but Mr. Burnett's nephew, Mr. Hubert 
 Price, was not there. His address was not 
 known, and there seemed to be no means of 
 communicating with him. His absence was 
 to be regretted, but it was felt that it was not 
 without its compensations. For Mr. Hubert 
 Price was vaguely supposed to be a very ter- 
 rible person. Mr. Burnett never willingly 
 alluded to him, and if his name happened to 
 come into the conversation, and Emily asked 
 a question, her curiosity was checked and the 
 subject was dropped. Julia had no more 
 than heard of him, and it had seemed to her 
 best not to inquire into Mr. Burnett's reason 
 for breaking so utterly with the nearest of 
 kin, and leaving his money to Emily ; and 
 it now seemed to her especially fortunate that 
 he could not be invited to the funeral. From 
 every point of view, a meeting between Emily 
 and her cousin was not desirable. A young 
 girl like Emily should not be brought into
 
 14 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 contact with a young man of such doubtful 
 antecedents. There were at the funeral a few 
 personal friends who lived in the neighbor- 
 hood, the farmers on the estate, and the labor- 
 ers ; and when the little crowd separated 
 outside the church, Emily and Julia walked 
 back to Ashwood with Mr. Grandly, Mr. 
 Burnett's intimate friend and solicitor. They 
 returned through the park, hardly speaking 
 at all, Emily absent-minded as usual, waving 
 her parasol occasionally at a passing butterfly. 
 The grass was warm and beautiful to look 
 on, and they lingered, prolonging the walk. 
 It was very good of Mr. Grandly to accom- 
 pany them back ; he might have gone on 
 straight to the station, so Julia thought, and 
 she was surprised indeed when, instead of 
 bidding them good-by at the front door, he 
 said: 
 
 " Before I return to London I have a com- 
 munication to make to both you ladies. Will 
 it suit you to come into the drawing-room 
 with me ? " 
 
 " Perfectly, so far as I'm concerned ; and 
 you, Emily?" 
 
 " Oh, I've nothing to do; but if it is about 
 business, Julia will attend
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 15 
 
 " I think you had better be present, Miss 
 Watson." 
 
 Mr. Grandly was a tall, massive man with 
 benevolent features ; his bald, pink skull was 
 partly covered with one lock of white hair. 
 There was an anxious look in his pale, deep- 
 set eyes which impressed Julia, and she said : 
 "I hope this communication you have to 
 make to us is not of a painful nature. We 
 have " 
 
 " Yes, Mrs. Bentley, I know that you have 
 been severely tried lately, but there is no help 
 for it. I cannot keep you in ignorance any 
 longer of certain facts relating to Mr. Bur- 
 nett's will." The words "will" and "facts" 
 struck on Emily's ear. She had been think- 
 ing about her fortune. The very ground she 
 was walking on was hers. She was the owner 
 of this beautiful park; it seemed like a fairy 
 tale. And that house, that dear, old-fashioned 
 house, that rambling, funny old place of all sizes 
 and shapes, full of deep staircases and pictures, 
 was all hers. Then her eyes wandered from 
 her flowers down the smooth wide drive, down 
 to the placid water crossed by the great or- 
 namental bridge, the island where she had 
 watched the swans floating last night all
 
 16 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 these things were hers. So the words " will " 
 and " facts," and " ignorance of them " jarred 
 on her clutching little dream, and she turned 
 her eyes they wore an anxious look towards 
 Mr. Grandly, and said with an authoritative 
 air: "Yes, let us go into the drawing-room; 
 I want to hear what Mr. Grandly has to say 
 about Let us go into the drawing-room at 
 once." 
 
 Julia sat down on the chair nearest to her. 
 She stood at the window, waiting impatiently 
 for Mr. Grandly to begin. He laid his hat on 
 the parquet, wiped his forehead with his hand- 
 kerchief, and drew an arm-chair forward. 
 " Mr. Burnett, as you know, made a will some 
 years ago, in favor of his cousin and adopted 
 daughter, Miss Emily Watson. In that will 
 he left his entire fortune to her, Ashwood Park 
 and all his invested money. No other person 
 was mentioned in that will, except Miss 
 Watson. It was I who drew up this will. 
 I remember discussing its provisions with 
 Mr. Burnett, and advising him to leave some- 
 thing, even if it were only a few hundred 
 pounds, to his nephew, Hubert Price. But 
 Mr. Burnett was always a very headstrong 
 man; he had quarrelled with this young man,
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 17 
 
 as he said, irreparably, and could not be in- 
 duced to leave him even a hundred pounds. 
 I thought this was harsh, and as Mr. Burnett's 
 friend I told him so I have always been op- 
 posed to extreme measures but he was not 
 to be gainsaid. So the matter remained for 
 many years; never did Mr. Burnett mention 
 his nephew's name. I thought he had forgot- 
 ten the young man's existence, when, sudden- 
 ly, without warning, Mr. Burnett came into 
 my office and told me that he intended to alter 
 his will, leaving all his property to his nephew, 
 Hubert Price. You know what old friends 
 we were, and presuming on our friendship, I 
 told him what I thought of his project of dis- 
 inheritance, for it amounted to that. Well, 
 suffice it to say, we very nearly quarrelled 
 over the matter. I refused to draw up the 
 will, so iniquitous did it seem to me. He 
 said : ' Very well, Grandly, I'll go elsewhere.' 
 Then I remembered that if I allowed him to 
 go elsewhere I should lose all hold over him, 
 and I consented to draw up the will." 
 
 Emily listened, a vague expression of pain 
 
 in her pathetic eyes. Then this house, whose 
 
 corridors she knew and loved so well, this 
 
 room where she was sitting, was not hers, and 
 
 2
 
 18 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 a strange man would come soon and drive her 
 away ! 
 
 " And he has left Ashwood to Mr. Price, is 
 not that his name? " she said, abruptly. 
 " Yes ; he has left Ashwood to Mr. Price." 
 " And when did he make this new will ? " 
 "I think it is just about a month ago." 
 Emily leaned forward, and her great 'eyes, 
 full of light and sorrow, were fixed in space? 
 her little pale hands linked, and the great mass 
 of chestnut hair slipping from the comb. She 
 was, in truth, at that moment the subject of 
 a striking picture, and she was even more 
 impressive when she said, speaking slowly : 
 " Then that old man was even wickeder than 
 I thought. Oh, what a lot I have learned in 
 the last three or four weeks ! Oh, what wicked- 
 ness, what wickedness ! . . . But go on," 
 she said, looking at Mr. Grandly ; " tell me 
 all." 
 
 " I suppose there was some very serious 
 reason, but on that point Mr. Burnett abso- 
 lutely refused to answer me. He said his 
 reasons were his own, and that he intended to 
 leave his money to whom he pleased." 
 
 " There was " Julia stopped short, and 
 looked interrogatively at Emily.
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 19 
 
 " Go on, Julia, tell him ; we have nothing 
 to conceal." 
 
 " Mr. Burnett asked Emily to marry him a 
 short time ago ; she, of course, refused, and 
 ever since he seemed more like " 
 
 "A madman than anything else," broke in 
 Emily. " Oh, for the last month we have led a 
 miserable life ! It was a happy release." 
 
 " Is it possible," said Mr. Grandly, " that 
 Mr. Burnett seriously contemplated marriage 
 with Miss Watson ? " 
 
 u Yes, and her refusal seemed to drive him 
 out of his mind." 
 
 " I never was more surprised." The placid 
 face of the eminently respectable solicitor 
 lapsed into contemplation. "I often tried," 
 he said, suddenly, " to divine the reason why 
 he changed his will. Disappointed love seemed 
 the only conceivable reason, but I rejected it 
 as being quite inconceivable. Well, it only 
 shows how little we know what is passing in 
 each other's minds." 
 
 " Then," said Julia, " Mr. Burnett has di- 
 vided his fortune, leaving Ash wood to Mr. 
 Price, and all his invested money to Emily ?" 
 
 A look of pain passed over Mr. Grandly's 
 benevolent face, and he answered : " Un-
 
 20 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 fortunately, he has left everything to Mr. 
 Price." 
 
 "I'm glad," exclaimed Emily, "that he has 
 left me nothing. Once he thought fit to dis- 
 inherit me because I would not marry him, 
 I prefer not to have anything to do with his 
 money." 
 
 Mr. Grandly and Julia looked at each other ; 
 they did not need to speak ; each knew that 
 the girl did not realize at once the full and 
 irretrievable nature of this misfortune. The 
 word destitute was at present unrealized, and 
 she only thought that she had been deprived of 
 what she loved best in the world Ashwood. 
 Mr. Grandly glanced at her, and then speak- 
 ing a little more hurriedly, said : 
 
 " I was saying just now that I only con- 
 sented to draw up the will so that I might be 
 able at some future time to induce Mr. Bur- 
 nett to add a codicil to it. Later on I spoke 
 to him again on the subject, and he promised 
 to consider it, and a few days after he wrote 
 to me, saying that he had decided to take my 
 advice and add a codicil. Subsequently, in 
 another letter he mentioned three hundred a 
 year as being the sum he thought he would be 
 in honor bound to leave Miss Watson. Un-
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 21 
 
 fortunately, he did not live long enough to 
 carry this intention into execution. But the 
 letters he addressed to me on the subject exist, 
 and I have every hope that the heir, Mr. 
 Price, will be glad to make some provision 
 for his cousin." 
 
 " Have you any reason for thinking that 
 Mr. Price will do so?'' said Julia. 
 
 " No. But it seems impossible for any 
 honorable man to act otherwise." 
 
 " He cannot bear enmity against Emily, who 
 of course knew nothing of his quarrel with 
 his uncle. Do you know anything about Mr. 
 Price ? What is he? Where does he live ? " 
 
 " He is a literary man, I believe. I have 
 heard that he writes plays ! " 
 
 "Oh, a writer of plays." 
 
 " Yes. I am glad of it ; he may be easier to 
 deal with. I' dare say it is a mistaken notion, 
 but one is apt to imagine that these artist folk 
 are more generous with their money than or- 
 dinary mortals." 
 
 "Is he married?" said Julia, and involun- 
 tarily she glanced toward Emily. 
 
 Mr. Grandly, too, looked toward the girl, 
 and then he said : " I don't know if Mr. Price 
 is married ; I hope not"
 
 22 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 " Why do you hope so? " said Emily, sud- 
 denly. 
 
 " Because if he isn't there will only be one 
 person to deal with. If. he had a wife, she 
 would have a voice in the matter ; and in such 
 circumstances as ours a man is easier to deal 
 with. I earnestly hope Mr. Hubert Price is 
 not married, and shall consider it a great point 
 in our favor if on returning to town I find he 
 is not" Then assuming a lighter tone, for 
 the nervous strain of the last ten minutes had 
 been intense, he said : " If he is not married, 
 who knows you may take a fancy to him, 
 and he to you ; then things would be just the 
 same as before only better." 
 
 "I should not marry him I hate him al- 
 ready. I wonder how you can think of such 
 a thing, Mr. Grandly. You know that he 
 must be a very wicked man for uncle to have 
 disinherited him. I have always heard that 
 but I don't know what I am saying." Tears 
 welled up into her eyes. " I have not been 
 very wicked, and I have been disinherited. I 
 dare say my cousin is not so bad as but I can 
 talk no more. ... I am very miserable, I 
 have always been miserable, and I don't know 
 why ; I never did harm to any one,"
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 23 
 
 Soon after Mr. Grandly bade the ladies 
 good-by. Julia followed him to the front 
 door. " You will do all you can to help us? 
 That poor child is too young, too inexperi- 
 enced, to realize what her position ia" 
 
 "I know, I know," said Mr. Grandly, ex- 
 tending both hands to Julia ; " in the whole 
 course of my experience I never met with a 
 sadder case. But we must not take too sad 
 a view of it. Perhaps all will come right in 
 the end. The young man cannot refuse to 
 make good his uncle's intentions. He cannot 
 see his cousin go to the workhouse. I will 
 do the best I can for you. The moment I get 
 back to London I'll set inquiries on foot and 
 find out his address, and when I have seen 
 him I'll write. Good-by." 
 
 Then, resolving that it were better to leave 
 the girl to herself, Julia took up her key- 
 basket and hurried away on household busi- 
 ness. But in the middle of her many 
 occupations she would now and then stop 
 short to think what an appalling misfortune ! 
 A bolt from the blue ! She had never heard 
 of anything so cruel before. That poor girl 
 she must go to her ; she must not leave her 
 alone any longer. But it would be well to
 
 24 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 avoid the subject as much as possible. She 
 must think of something to distract her 
 thoughts. The pony -chaise. It might be the 
 last time they had a carriage to go out in. 
 But they could not go out driving on the day 
 of the funeral. That evening, as they were 
 going to bed, Emily said, lifting her sweet, 
 pathetic little face, looking all love and gen- 
 tleness : " Oh, to think of a common, vulgar 
 writer coming here, with a common, vulgar 
 wife and a horrid crowd of children. Oh, 
 Julia, doesn't it seem impossible ? And yet I 
 suppose it is true. I cannot bear to think of 
 it I can see the horrid children tramping up 
 and down the stairs, breaking the things we 
 have known and loved so long; and they will 
 destroy all my flowers, and no one will re- 
 member to feed the poor swans. Dandy, my 
 beloved, T shall be able to take you with ma" 
 And she caught up the rough-haired terrier 
 and hugged him, kissing his dear old head. 
 " Dandy is mine ; they can't take him from 
 me, can they ? But do you think the swans 
 belong to them or to us? I suppose it would 
 be impossible to take them with us if we go 
 to live in London. They couldn't live in a 
 back yard."
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 25 
 
 " But, dearest Emily, who are ' they ' ? You 
 don't know that he is married literary men 
 don't often marry. For all you know, he is a 
 handsome young man, who will fall madly in 
 love with you." 
 
 " No one ever fell in love with me except 
 that horrid old man how I hate him, how I 
 detest to think of it ! I thought I should have 
 died when he asked to marry rne. The very 
 memory of it is enough to make me hate all 
 men, and prevent me from liking any one. I 
 don't think I could like him ; I should always 
 see that wicked old man's hoary, wrinkled 
 face in his." 
 
 " Oh, Emily, I cannot think how such ideas 
 can come into your head. It is not right, 
 indeed it isn't." And this simple English- 
 woman looked at this sensitive girl in sheer 
 wonderment and alarm. 
 
 "I only say what I think. I am glad the 
 old man did disinherit me. I'm glad we are 
 leaving Ashwood; I cannot abide the place 
 when I think of him. . . . There, that is his 
 chair. I can see him sitting in it now. He is 
 grinning at us ; he is saying, ' Ha ! ha ! I have 
 made beggars of you both.' You remember 
 how we used to tremble when we met his ter-
 
 26 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 rible old face on the stairs ; you remember 
 how he used to sit glaring at us all through 
 dinner ? " 
 
 " Yes, Emily, I remember all that ; but I 
 do not think it natural that you should forget 
 all the years of kindness: he was very good 
 to you, and loved you very much, and if he 
 forgot himself at the end of his life, we must 
 remember the weaknesses of age." 
 
 " The hideousness of age," Emily replied, in 
 a low tone. The conversation paused, and 
 .then Julia said : 
 
 "You are speaking wildly, Emily, and will 
 live to regret your words. Let us speak no 
 more of Mr. Burnett. ... I dare say you will 
 find your cousin a charming young man. I 
 should laugh if it were all to end in a mar- 
 riage. And how glad I should be to see you 
 off on your honeymoon, to bid you good-by." 
 
 "Oh, Julia, don't speak like that; you will 
 never bid me good-by. You will never leave 
 me promise me that you are my only 
 friend. Oh, Julia, promise me that you will 
 never leave me." 
 
 Tears rose in Julia's eyes, and taking the 
 girl in her arms, she said : " I'll never leave 
 you, my dear girl, until you yourself wish it"
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 27 
 
 " I wish it ? Oh, Julia, you do not know 
 me. I have lost everything, Julia, but I 
 mustn't lose you. . . . After all, it doesn't so 
 much matter, so long as we are not separated. 
 I don't care about money, and we can have a 
 nice little house in London all to ourselves. 
 And if we get too hard up, we'll both go out 
 as daily governesses. I think I could teach 
 a little music, to young children, you know ; 
 you'd teach the older ones." Emily looked 
 at Julia inquiring!}", and going over to the 
 piano, attempted to play her favorite polka. 
 Julia, who had once worked for her daily 
 bread, and earned it in a sort of way by giv- 
 ing music lessons, smiled sadly at the girl's 
 ignorance of life. 
 
 " I see," said Emily, who was quick to 
 divine every shade of sentiment passing in 
 the minds of those she loved ; " you don't 
 think I could teach even the little children." 
 
 " My dear Emily, I hope it will never come 
 to your having to try." 
 
 "I must do something to get a living," she 
 replied, looking vaguely and wistfully into 
 the fire. " How unfortunate all this is that 
 horrid, horrid, old man. But supposing he had 
 asked you to marry him he wasn't nice, but
 
 28 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 you are older than I, and if you had married 
 him you would have become, in a way, my 
 stepmother. But what a charming step- 
 mother ! Oh, how I should have loved that ! " 
 
 " Come, Emily, it is time to go to bed ; you 
 let your imagination run away with you." 
 
 " Julia, you are not cross because " 
 
 " No, dear, I'm not cross. I'm only a little 
 tired. We have talked too long." 
 
 Emily's allusion to music -teach ing had re- 
 vived in Julia all her most painful memories. 
 If this man were to cast them penniless out 
 of Ashwood ! Supposing, supposing that 
 were to happen ? Starving days, pale and 
 haggard, rose up in her memory. What 
 should she do, what should she do, and with 
 that motherless girl dependent on her for food 
 and clothes and shelter? She buried her face 
 in the pillow and prayed that she might be 
 saved from such a destiny. Fear kept her 
 awake. 
 
 If this man this unknown creature were 
 to refuse to help them, she and Emily would 
 have to go to London, and she would have to 
 support Emily as best she might The insom- 
 nia rendered things strangely distinct, and she 
 saw down the gaunt perspective of a long life
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 29 
 
 of poverty this poor, delicate orphan girl, with 
 no one but "her to look to for support She 
 would hold to her and fight for her with all 
 her strength, but would she not fall van- 
 quished in the fight; and then, and then? 
 The same thoughts, questions, and fears 
 turned in her head like a wheel, and it was 
 not until dawn had begun to whiten the win- 
 dow-panes that she fell asleep. 
 
 A few days after, the post brought a letter 
 for Julia. After glancing hastily down the 
 page she said: " This is a letter from Mr. 
 Grandly, and it is good news. Oh, what a 
 relief ! . . ." 
 
 "Read it" 
 
 " ' DEAR MRS. BENTLBT : 
 
 " ' Immediately I arrived in London I set to work to 
 find out Mr. Price's address. It was the easiest matter in 
 the world, for he has a play now running at one of the 
 theatres. So I directed my letter to the theatre and next 
 morning I had a visit from him. After explaining to 
 him the resources of the brilliant fortune he had come 
 into, I told him of his uncle's intention to add a codicil 
 to his will leaving Miss Watson three hundred a year ; 
 I told him that this last will had left her entirely un- 
 provided for. He said, at once, that he fully agreed 
 with me, and that he would consider what was the most 
 honorable course for him to take in regard to his cousin.
 
 80 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 This is exactly what he said, but his manner was such 
 that before leaving he left no doubt in my mind what- 
 ever that he will act very generously indeed. I should 
 not be surprised if he settled even more than the pro- 
 posed three hundred a year on Miss Watson. He is a 
 very quiet, thoughtful young man of about two or three 
 and thirty. He looks poor, and I fancy he has lived 
 through very hard times. He wears an air of sadness 
 and disappointment which makes him attractive, and 
 his manners are gentle and refined. I tell you these 
 things, for I know they will interest you. I have not 
 been able to find out if he is married, but I am sorry to 
 say that his play has not succeeded. I should have 
 found out more, but he was not in my office above ten 
 minutes ; he had to hurry away to keep an appointment 
 at the theatre, for, as he explained, it was to be decided 
 that very day if the play was to be taken out of the bills 
 at the end of the week. He promised to call again, and 
 our interview is fixed for eleven o'clock the day after 
 to-morrow. In the meantime take heart, for I think I 
 am justified in telling you I feel quite sanguine as to 
 the result.'" 
 
 " Well," said Julia, laying down the letter, 
 "I don't think that anything could be more 
 satisfactory, and just fancy dear old Mr. 
 Grandly being able to describe a young man 
 as well as that." 
 
 " He doesn't say if he is short or tall, or 
 dark or fair." 
 
 " No, he doesn't I think he might have
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 31 
 
 told us something about his personal appear- 
 ance, but it is a great relief to hear that he 
 is not the vulgar Bohemian we have always 
 understood him to be. Mr. Grandly says his 
 manners are refined ; you might take a fancy 
 to him after all." 
 
 " But you don't know that he isn't married. 
 I suppose Mr. Grandly wasn't able to find that 
 out. I should like to know but not because 
 I want to marry him or any one else ; only I 
 don't like the idea of a great, vulgar woman, 
 and a pack of children scampering about the 
 place when we go." 
 
 " Do you dislike children so much, then, 
 Emily?" 
 
 " I don't know that I ever thought about 
 them ; but I'm sure I shouldn't like his chil- 
 dren. I dreamt of him last night. Do you 
 believe in dreams ? " 
 
 "What did you dream?" 
 
 " I cannot remember, but I woke up crying, 
 feeling more unhappy than I ever felt in my 
 life before. It is curious that I should dream 
 of him last night and that you should receive 
 that letter this morning, isn't it? " 
 
 " I don't see anything strange in it Noth- 
 ing more natural than that you should dream
 
 32 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 about him, and it was certain that I should 
 receive a letter from Mr. Grandly ; he promised 
 to write to me in a few days." 
 
 " Then you believe what is in that letter 
 I don't. Something tells me that he will not 
 act kindly, but I don't know how." 
 
 " I'm quite sure you are wrong, Emily. Mr. 
 Grandly would never have written this letter 
 unless he knew for certain that Mr. Price 
 would do all or more than he promised." 
 
 " I can't see from the letter that he has 
 promised anything. . . . Even if he does 
 give me three hundred a year, I shall have 
 to leave Ashwood." 
 
 " My dear Emily, I'm cross with you ; of 
 course, if you will insist on always looking at 
 the melancholy side. . . . Now I'm going ; 
 I've to see after the housekeeping. Are you 
 going into the garden ? " 
 
 " Yes, presently." 
 
 Emily did not seem to know what she was 
 going to do. She looked out the window, she 
 lingered in the corridor ; finally she wandered 
 into the library. The quaint, old-fashioned room 
 recalled her childhood to her. It was there 
 she used to learn her lessons. Here was the 
 mahogany table, at which she used to sit with
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 33 
 
 her governess, learning to read and write ; and 
 there, far away at the other end of the long 
 room, was the round table, where lay the old 
 illustrated editions of "Gulliver's Travels" 
 and " The Arabian Nights," which she used 
 to run to whenever her governess left the 
 room. And at the bottom of the book-case 
 there were drawers full of strange papers; 
 these drawers she used in fear and trembling, 
 so mysterious did they seem to her. And 
 there was the book-case, full of the tall folios, 
 behind which lay, in dark and dim recesses, 
 stores of books which she used to pull out, ex- 
 pecting at every moment to come upon long- 
 forgotten treasures. She smiled now, as she 
 recalled these childish imaginings, and lifting 
 tenderly the coarse drugget, she looked at the 
 great green globe which her fingers used to 
 turn in infantile curiosity. Then leaving the 
 library, she roamed through the house, paus- 
 ing on the first landing to gaze on the picture 
 of the fine gentleman in a red coat, his hand 
 forever on his sword. She remembered how 
 she used to wonder whom he was going to kill, 
 and how sure she used to feel that at last he 
 would grant his adversary his life. And close 
 by was the picture of the wind-mill, set on the
 
 34 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 edge of the down, with the shepherd driving 
 sheep in the foreground. And her whole life 
 seemed drenched with tears at the thought of 
 parting with these things. Every room was 
 full of memories for her. She was a little girl 
 when she came to live at Ashwood, and the 
 room at the top of the stairs had been her 
 nursery. There were the two beds ; both were 
 now dismantled and bare. It was in the little 
 bed in the corner that she used to sleep ; it 
 was in the old four-poster that her nurse slept 
 And there was the very place, in front of the 
 fire, where she used to have her tea. The 
 table had disappeared, and the grate, how 
 rusty it was ! In the far corner, by the win- 
 dow, there used to be a press, in which 
 nurse kept tea and sugar. That press had 
 been removed. The other press was there 
 still, and throwing open the doors she sur- 
 veyed the shelves. She remembered the very 
 peg on which her hat a.nd jacket used to hang. 
 And the long walks in the great park, which 
 was to her, then, a world of wonderment! 
 She wandered about the old corridor, in 
 and out of odd rooms, all associated with her 
 childhood quaint, old rooms, many of them 
 lumber rooms, full of odd corners and old
 
 VATN FORTUNE 35 
 
 cupboards, the meaning of which she used to 
 strive to divine. How their silence and mys- 
 tery used to thrill her little soul ! Faded 
 rooms whose mystery had departed, but whose 
 gloom was haunted with tenderest recollec- 
 tions. In one corner was the reading chair in 
 which Mr. Burnett used to sit. At that time 
 she used to sit on his knee, and when the 
 chair gave way beneath their weight, he had 
 said she was too big a girl to sit on his knee 
 any longer. The words had seemed to her a 
 little cruel. She had forgotten the old chair, 
 but now she remembered the very moment 
 when the servants came to take it away. 
 Under the window were some fragments of a 
 china bowl which she had broken when quite 
 a little child. And there was a hoop-stick 
 that had fallen, and there was the hoop 
 which had been taken down to the black- 
 smith's to be mended. He had mended it, 
 but she did not remember ever using it again. 
 And there was an old box of water-colors, 
 with which she used to color all the uncol- 
 ored drawings in her picture-books. Emily 
 took the hoop-stick, the old doll, and the 
 broken box of water-colors, and packed them 
 away carefully. She would be able to find
 
 36 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 room for them in the little house in London 
 where she and Julia were going to live. 
 
 A few days after, the post brought letters 
 from Mr. Grandly, one for Emily and one for 
 Julia. Julia's letter ran as follows : 
 
 "DEAR MKS. BENTLEY: 
 
 " I write by this post to Miss Watson, advising her 
 that her cousin, Mr. Price, is most anxious to make her 
 acquaintance, and asking her to send the dog-cart to- 
 morrow to meet him at the station. I must take upon 
 myself the responsibility for this step. I have seen Mr. 
 Price again, and he has confirmed me in my good opin- 
 ion of him. He seems most anxious, not only to do 
 everything right, but to make matters as pleasant and 
 agreeable as possible for his cousin. He has written me 
 a letter recognizing Miss Watson's claim upon him, and 
 constituting himself her trustee. I have not had yet 
 time to prepare a deed of gift, but there can be little 
 doubt that Miss Watson's position is now quite secure. 
 So far so good ; but more than ever does the only clear 
 and satisfactory way out of this miserable business seem 
 to me to be a marriage between Mr. Hubert Price and 
 Miss Watson. I have already told you that he is a nice, 
 refined young man, of gentlemanly bearing, good pres- 
 ence, and excellent speech, though a trifle shy and re- 
 served; and, as I have since discovered that he is not 
 married, I have taken upon myself the responsibility of 
 advising him to jump into a train and to go and tell his 
 cousin the conclusion he has come to regarding the will 
 of the late Mr. Burnett. As I have said, he is a shy 
 man, and it was some time before I could induce him to
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 37 
 
 take so decisive a step ; he wanted to meet Miss Watson 
 in my office, but I succeeded in persuading him. He 
 will go down to you to-morrow by the five o'clock, and 
 I need not impress upon you the necessity that you should 
 use your influence with Miss Watson, and that his re- 
 ception should be as cordial as circumstances permit. I 
 have only to add that I see no need that you should show 
 this letter to Miss Watson, for the very fact of knowing 
 that we desired to bring about a marriage might preju- 
 dice her against this young man, whom she otherwise 
 cannot fail to find charming. " 
 
 Hearing some one at her door, Julia put the 
 letter away. It was Emily. 
 
 " I've just received a letter from Mr. Grand- 
 ly, saying that that man is coming here to- 
 day, and that we are to send the dog-cart for 
 him." 
 
 " Is not that the very best thing that 
 
 " We cannot remain here, we must leave a 
 note for him, or something of that kind. I 
 wouldn't remain here to meet him for worlds. 
 I really couldn't, Julia." 
 
 "And why not, Emily?" 
 
 " To meet the man who is coming to turn 
 me out of Ash wood ! " 
 
 " How do you know that he is coming to 
 turn you out of Ash wood ? You imagine 
 these things. ... Do you suppose that Mr.
 
 38 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 Grandly would send him down here if he did 
 not know what his intentions were ? " 
 
 " But we shall have to leave Ashwood." 
 
 "Very likely, but not in the way you imag- 
 ine. Kemember, Mr. Price is your cousin ; you 
 may like him very much. Let's be guided by 
 Mr. Grandly ; I have not seen your letter, but 
 apparently he advises us to remain here and 
 receive him." 
 
 " I don't think I can, Julia. I have mis- 
 givings." 
 
 " Have you been dreaming again ? " 
 
 " No ; I've not been dreaming, but I have 
 misgivings." 
 
 " You are a silly little goose, Emily. Come 
 and give me a kiss, and promise to take my 
 advice." 
 
 " Dearest Julia, you do love me, don't you ? 
 Promise me that we shall not be separated, 
 and then I don't mind." 
 
 " Yes, dear, I promise you that, and you 
 will promise me to try to like your cousin ? " 
 
 " I'll try, Julia, but I'm awfully frightened, 
 and I don't think I could like him, no matter 
 what he was like. I feel a sort of hatred in 
 my heart Don't you know what I mean?" 
 And the girl looked questioningly into her 
 friend's eyes.
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 DURING breakfast the conversation lan- 
 guished. The matter had been decided, and 
 both women were full of vague and eager 
 thoughts concerning the young man who was 
 coming to see them. Julia wondered what 
 was passing in Emily's mind. Emily did not 
 know herself. There was a great deal there, 
 but it was more sensation than opinion. Her 
 mind was divided by passionate hate and 
 timid curiosity. She often thought of throw- 
 ing herself into Julia's arms and begging of 
 her to take her away to London to some quiet 
 home she did not care how humble it was ; 
 somewhere where they might live alone and 
 be nappy. But something prevented her 
 from doing this even when she desired it most 
 The face of a young man fell occasionally like 
 a shadow on her mind, and then it did not 
 seem to her that she could do otherwise than 
 submit. Julia, too, was agitated. Emily 
 might at any moment declare that she could 
 not meet her cousin, and shut herself up in
 
 40 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 her room until he left the house. If she acted 
 so, Heaven only knew what would become of 
 her, and in an access of motherly solicitude, 
 all her heart went out to the motherless child. 
 But as the hours went by she began to feel 
 easier in mind, and the possibility of a mar- 
 riage strengthened until it seemed already 
 an accomplished fact. Emily as a bride ! The 
 vision dazzled her. Even if so desirable an 
 event did not take place, there was still three 
 hundred a year and reconciliation with her 
 wealthy cousin. Then she, too, was anxious 
 to see this young man : it would be a pleasant 
 change, and would help them to forget the 
 terrible month they had passed through. A 
 new era was about to begin, and the rose of 
 its dawn seemed to presage a day of happiness 
 and marriage. But without looking so far 
 ahead as the altar, the present was tempting 
 enough ; nothing now could prevent Mr. Price 
 from coming, and though Emily was not inter- 
 ested in the fact that he was a dramatic 
 writer one who had had plays performed in 
 the London theatres Julia thought a good 
 deal about it and indulged in a good deal of 
 wonderment regarding the young man, and 
 what his conversation would be like.
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 41 
 
 Towards the end of the afternoon Julia 
 came out to meet Emily, who was examining 
 her flowers on the pleasant lawn in front of 
 the house. A few brief remarks were made, 
 and the women walked in silence. Suddenly 
 the dog-cart came round the turn and passed 
 down the drive. 
 
 "Oh!" said Emily. "Why, there's John 
 going to the station to fetch him. He'll be 
 here in half an hour ! " 
 
 " Well, dear, what of that ? The five-o'clock 
 express is the train most people come down 
 
 by." 
 
 " Yes ; but he is not coming as a guest : we 
 are his guests. Do you think he'll ask us to 
 leave at once I mean to-morrow, at the end 
 of the week ? " 
 
 " You are going to make the acquaintance 
 of your cousin, who, by all accounts, is a very 
 nice young man. Why not be satisfied to let 
 things go on as they are going? They are 
 going on very well ; there is no use in trying 
 to guess what is going to happen." 
 
 The conversation paused; the women 
 walked once up the greensward, and then, as 
 they were about to turn, Emily said: 
 
 " I think we ought to receive him in the
 
 42 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 drawing-room. Let's come in. We shall 
 have to get him some tea, and then there will 
 be dinner, and then after dinner in the draw- 
 ing-room. I'm sure I shall break down before 
 the end of the evening. . . . Then he's not 
 going away after dinner; he'll be here all 
 night. . . . I sha'n'tbe able to close my eyes 
 with fright" 
 
 " If you go on like that, my dear Emily, 
 you will end by upsetting me, and I shall be 
 as nervous as yourself." A few moments 
 passed, and then Emily said : 
 
 " I think you ought to be at the piano. I 
 will sit in this arm-chair and pretend to be 
 reading. That will look quite natural, just 
 as if we weren't expecting him." 
 
 Julia did not speak at once. She seemed 
 to be considering her words. Then she said : 
 " I should like you to receive your cousin 
 just as if Mr. Burnett had not altered his will 
 and the young man was coming to pay you a 
 visit. I'm sure that is how he'd like you to 
 receive him." 
 
 The conversation fell, and the silence grew 
 so irritating that to break it Julia went to the 
 piano. Emily went to the window. Julia's 
 fingers ran over the keys, and soon after Emily
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 43 
 
 cried : " Oh, Julia, here he is quick, look ! 
 What do you think of him ? Isn't he horrid ? 
 ... He has a red beard." 
 
 " He is not the least horrid, and I doubt 
 very much if you think so ; ... you are only 
 trying to excite yourself. I do hope you will 
 control your feelings, whatever they are, and 
 let this interview pass off quietly. . . . Above 
 all, no pathetic looks; a little cordiality, a 
 little naturalness There was no time 
 to say more. The door was thrown open, 
 and the servant announced Mr. Hubert Price. 
 
 The first impression was of a good-looking 
 young man, tall, thin, somewhat angular, 
 dressed in a gray tweed suit. The bottom 
 button of the jacket was buttoned, and the 
 garment creased about the hips. The collar 
 was low and loose, and the tying of the loose 
 scarf a pale red spun-silk scarf suggested 
 some high-class handicraftsman with social- 
 istic aspirations. The boots were clumsy. His 
 embarrassment expressed itself by a move- 
 ment of the crimson lips, seen through the 
 red-blond mustache. The beard was short, 
 pointed, and on the cheeks it was cut close to 
 the skin. The face was shallow, and singu- 
 larly uniform in color, a sort of rich pallor
 
 44 VATN FORTUNE 
 
 verging to whiteness about the temples. The 
 nose was long, thin, well-formed. The eyes, 
 the distinctive feature, were pale blue shy, 
 retiring eyes, which seemed to warn you that 
 something had been left unsaid. The hair 
 was pale-brown, and though not long, it waved 
 in high confusion above the clear, broad fore- 
 head. But, notwithstanding an expression of 
 earnestness and strength, thought seemed to 
 float there without precision, without depth ; 
 and life, too, seemed to exist there only on the 
 surface. He now stood, as if hesitating 
 whether he should enter the room, in a pictur- 
 esque pose, the railway-rug, which he had 
 forgotten to leave outside, on his arm ; then, 
 seeing that Emily was coming towards him, 
 he stretched a long arm from a square shoul- 
 der and took her hand. He was picturesquely 
 awkward. Julia could not but think of hon- 
 esty and sincerity when the long, soft fingers 
 gripped her hand. 
 
 "I'm Miss Watson, and this my friend 
 Mrs. Bentley." Hubert sought for words, but 
 he found none, and the sjlence was again 
 broken by Emily's plaintive voice : " Won't 
 you sit down ; won't you lay your rug aside ? " 
 
 "Thank you, I Hubert sought for a
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 45 
 
 convenient chair. " I had forgotten 
 Then he drew off his gloves. As he did so he 
 glanced shyly from the tiny figure in the black 
 dress to the tall woman who stood at some 
 little distance, her pale hair sparkling in the 
 setting light 
 
 Emily sat, her pathetic eyes fixed on her 
 cousin, saying nothing. Julia had to come 
 to the rescue. 
 
 " I hope you have had a pleasant journey, 
 Mr. Price," she said. " The country is look- 
 ing beautiful just now. Do you know this 
 part of the country ? " Julia's words were 
 welcome, and Hubert replied eagerly : 
 
 " No, I do not know the country at all well. 
 I have been very little out of London for 
 some years, but I hope now to see more of the 
 country. This is a beautiful place." 
 
 At that moment he met Julia's eyes, and, 
 feeling that he was touching on delicate 
 ground, he stopped speaking. When he 
 turned his head, he met Emily's great sad 
 eyes, which seem to absorb the entire face, 
 fixed upon him. They expressed such depth 
 of pathetic appeal that he trembled with ap- 
 prehension, and the instinct in him was to 
 beg for pardon. But it became suddenly
 
 46 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 necessary to say something, and, speaking at 
 random, his head full of whirling words, he 
 said: 
 
 " Of course nothing could be more sad than 
 my poor uncle's death so unexpected. . . . 
 Having lived so long together, you must 
 have Then it was Hubert's turn to 
 look appeal ingly at Miss Watson ; but her 
 great eyes seemed to say, " Go on, go on ; 
 heap cruelty on cruelty ! " Then he plunged 
 desperately, hoping to retrieve his mistakes. 
 " He died about a month ago. Mr. Grandly 
 told me I should still find you here, so I 
 thought 
 
 The intensity of his emotion perhaps caused 
 Hubert to accentuate his words, so that they 
 conveyed a meaning different from that which 
 he intended. Certainly his hesitations were 
 capable of misinterpretation, and Emily said, 
 her voice trembling : 
 
 " Of course we know we have no right here, 
 we are intruding ; but we are making prepara- 
 tions. . . . I dare say that to-morrow we shall 
 be able to 
 
 "Oh, I beg pardon, Miss Watson; let me 
 assure you. ... I am sorry if 
 
 Taking a little handkerchief out of her
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 47 
 
 black dress, Emily covered her face in her 
 thin, tiny hands. She sobbed aloud, and ran 
 out of the room. Hubert turned to Julia, his 
 face full of consternation. 
 
 " I am very sorry, but she did not give me 
 time to speak. Will you go and fetch her, 
 Mrs. Bentley? I want to tell her I hope 
 she will remain at Ashwood as long as she 
 likes. ... I believe she thinks that I came 
 down here to turn her out. It is really quite 
 awful that she should think such a thing." 
 
 " She is an exceedingly sensitive girl, and 
 is now a little overwrought. The events of the 
 last month have proved too much for her." 
 
 " Mr. Grandly informed me that it was Mr. 
 Burnett's intention to add a codicil to his 
 will, leaving Miss Watson three hundred a 
 year. This money I am prepared to give 
 her, and I'm quite sure she is welcome to 
 stay here as long as she pleases. Indeed, she 
 will do me a great favor by remaining. Please 
 go and tell her. I cannot bear to see a girl 
 cry ; to hear her sob like that is quite 
 terrible." 
 
 " You will be able to tell her yourself dur- 
 ing the course of the evening. I think it will 
 come better from you."
 
 48 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 11 After what has happened, it will be very 
 difficult for me to meet her until she is in- 
 formed that she is mistaken." 
 
 They were standing quite close together. 
 Suddenly they both seemed to understand 
 each other better, and, playing with the brace- 
 let on her arm, she said : 
 
 " You do not know Emily ; she is strangely 
 sensitive. But I will go and try to persuade 
 her to return. . . . Although only distantly 
 related, you are cousins, after all, are you 
 not?" 
 
 "Yes, we are cousins, but the relationship 
 is remote. Tell her everything; beg of her 
 to come down-stairs." 
 
 Hubert imagined Emily's little black figure 
 thrown upon her bed, sobbing convulsively. 
 He was very much agitated, and looked about 
 the room, at first hardly seeing it. At last its 
 novelty drew his thoughts from his cousin's 
 tears, and he wondered what was the history 
 of the house. "The old man," he thought, 
 " bought it all, furniture and ancestors, from 
 some ruined landowner, and attempted very 
 few alterations that's clear." Then he re- 
 proached himself. " How could I have been 
 so stupid? I did not know what I was say-
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 49 
 
 ing. I was so horribly nervous. Those 
 strange eyes of hers quite upset me. I do 
 hope Mrs. Bentley will tell her that I wish 
 to act generously, that I am prepared to do 
 everything in my power to make her happy. 
 Poor little thing! She looks as if she had 
 never been happy." Again the room drew 
 Hubert's thoughts away from his cousin. It 
 was still lit with the faint perfumed glow of 
 the sunset. The paint of the old decorations 
 was cracked and faded. A man in black 
 velvet fixed his eyes upon him, and the tall 
 lady in blue satin had no doubt played 
 there in short clothes. He walked up and 
 down, he turned over the music on the piano, 
 and, hearing a step, looked round. It was 
 only the servant coming to tell him that his 
 room was ready. 
 
 He dressed for dinner, hoping to find the 
 two ladies in the drawing-room, and it was a 
 disappointment to find only Mrs. Bentley 
 there. 
 
 " I have told Emily everything you said. 
 She is very grateful, and begs of me to thank 
 you for your kind intentions. But I am 
 afraid you must excuse her absence from 
 dinner. I really don't think she is in a fit 
 4
 
 50 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 state to come down ; she couldn't possibly 
 take part in the conversation." 
 
 " But why ? I hope she isn't ill. Had we 
 better send for the doctor ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ; she'll be all right in the morning. 
 She has been crying. She suffers from de- 
 pression of spirits. She is, I assure you, 
 all right," said Julia, replying to Hubert's 
 alarmed and question ing face. "I assure you 
 there is no need for you to reproach yourself- 
 Dinner is ready." She took his arm, and 
 they went into the dining-room. 
 
 No further mention was made of Mr. Bur- 
 nett, of money matters, or of the young lady 
 up-stairs ; and with considerable tact Julia in- 
 troduced the subject of literature, alluding 
 gracefully to Hubert's position as a dramatist. 
 
 "Your play, 'Divorce,' is now running at 
 the Queen's Theatre? " 
 
 " No : I am sorry to say it was taken out of 
 the bills last Saturday. Saturday night was 
 the last performance." 
 
 " That was not a long run. And the papers 
 spoke so favorably of it" 
 
 " It is a play that only appeals to the few." 
 And, encouraged by Mrs. Bentley's manner, 
 Hubert told her how happy endings and comic
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 51 
 
 love scenes were essential to secure a popular 
 success. 
 
 " I am afraid you will think me very stupid, 
 but I do not quite understand." 
 
 In a quiet, unobtrusive way Hubert was a 
 graceful talker, and he knew how to adapt his 
 theme, and bring it within the circle of the 
 sympathies of his listeners. There was some 
 similarity of temperament between himself and 
 Mrs. Bentley ; they were both quiet, fair, med- 
 itative Saxons. She lent her whole mind to 
 the conversation, interested in the account 
 that the young man gave of his dramatic 
 aspirations. 
 
 From the dining-room window looking over 
 the park the long road wound through the 
 vaporous country. A town stood in the mid- 
 dle distance, its color blotted out, and its 
 smoke hardly distinguishable. In the room 
 a yellow dress turned gray, and the gold of a 
 bracelet grew darker, and the pink of delicate 
 finger-nails was no longer visible. But the 
 pensive dusk of the dining-room, which black- 
 ened the claret in the decanters, leaving only 
 the faintest ruby glow in the glass which 
 Hubert raised to his lips, suited the tenor of 
 the conversation, which had wandered from
 
 52 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 the dramatic to the social side of the ques- 
 tion. What did he think of divorce ? She 
 sighed, and he wondered what her story might 
 be. 
 
 They passed out of the dining-room, and 
 stood on the gravel, watching the night gath- 
 ering in the open country. In the light of 
 the moon, which had just risen above the 
 woods, the white road grew whiter, the town 
 was faintly seen in the tide of blue vapor, 
 which here and there allowed a field to ap- 
 pear. In the foreground a great silver fir, 
 spiky and solitary, rose up in the blue night. 
 Beyond it was a corner of the ornamental 
 bridge. The island and its shadow were one 
 black mass rising from the park up to the 
 level of the moon, which, a little to the right, 
 between the town and the island, lay reflected 
 in a narrow strip of water. Farther away 
 some reeds were visible in the illusive light, 
 and the meditative chatter of dozing ducks 
 stirred the silence which wrapped the country 
 like a cloak. 
 
 Hubert and Julia stood looking at the land- 
 scape. The fragrance of his cigar, the pres- 
 ence of the woman, the tenderness of the hour, 
 combined to make him strangely happy ; his
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 53 
 
 past life seemed to him like a harsh, cruel 
 pain that had suddenly ceased. More than 
 he had ever desired seemed to be fulfilled ; 
 the reality exceeded the dream. What greater 
 happiness than to live here ! His thoughts 
 paused ; he had forgotten the girl up-stairs. 
 She was not happy ; but he would make her 
 happy of that he was quite certain. At that 
 moment Julia said: 
 
 " I hope you like your home. Is not the 
 prospect a lovely one ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but I was thinking at that moment 
 of Emily. I suppose I must accustom my- 
 self to call her by her Christian name. She 
 is my cousin." 
 
 They went into the drawing-room. Julia 
 asked him if he liked music, and she went to 
 the piano and sang some Scotch songs very 
 sweetly. Then she took a book from the table 
 and bade him good-night. She was sure that 
 he would excuse her. She must go and see 
 after Ernily. 
 
 When the door closed, the woman who had 
 just left him seemed like some one he had 
 seen in a dream ; and still more shadowy and 
 illusive did the girl seem that pale and 
 plaintive beauty, looking like a pastel, who
 
 54 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 had so troubled him with her enigmatic eyes ! 
 And the lodging-house that he had left only 
 a few hours ago ! and Miss Massey ! What 
 did it all mean ? Had there ever been such a 
 romance? And yet the facts were simple 
 enough. When all hope seemed dead, when 
 he stood on the brink of suicide, his uncle, 
 who had adopted a distant member of the 
 family one of the Watsons had suddenly 
 taken it into his head to leave his money to 
 the nearest of kin. The most commonplace 
 story in the world when looked at from one 
 side, and yet how romantic when looked at 
 from another! The point of view is every- 
 thing. 
 
 He had written a play a play that the most 
 competent critics had praised. It had failed, 
 and failed twice ; but did that prove anything ? 
 Was it the fault of circumstances that he had 
 not been able to finish the " The Gipsy "? or 
 was it that the slight vein of genius that had 
 been in him once had been exhausted ? He 
 remembered the article in The Modern Review, 
 and was frightened to think that the critic 
 might have divined the truth. Once it had 
 seemed impossible to finish that play ; but for- 
 tune had come to his aid, accident had made
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 56 
 
 him master of his destiny ; he could spend 
 three years, five years if he liked, on " The 
 Gipsy." But why think of the play at all ? 
 What did it matter even if he never wrote it ? 
 There were many things to do in life besides 
 writing plays. There was life ! His life was 
 henceforth his own, and he could live it as 
 he pleased. What should he do with it? 
 To whom should he give it? Should he 
 keep it all for himself and his art ? It were 
 useless to make plans. All he knew for 
 certain was that henceforth he was master of 
 his own life, and could dispense it as he 
 pleased.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 WHEN a child, Hubert had been shy, medi- 
 tative, illusive his mother's favorite, and the 
 scorn of his elder brothers, two rough boys, 
 addicted in early youth to robbing orchards, 
 and later on to gambling and drinking. The 
 elder, after having broken his father's heart 
 with debts and disgraceful living, had gone 
 out to the Cape. News of his death came 
 to the Rectory soon after ; but James's death 
 did not turn Henry from his evil courses, and 
 one day his father and mother had to go to 
 London on his account, and they brought him 
 back a hopeless invalid. Hubert was twelve 
 years of age when he followed his brother to 
 the grave. 
 
 It was at his brother's funeral that Hubert 
 met for the first time his uncle, Mr. Burnett. 
 Mr. Burnett had spent the greater part of his 
 life in New Zealand, where he had made a 
 large fortune by sheep farming and invest- 
 ments in land. He had seemed to be greatly 
 taken with his nephew, and it had been under-
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 57 
 
 stood that he would leave him the greater part, 
 if not the whole, of his fortune. But Mr. 
 Burnett had come under the influence of some 
 poor relations, some distant cousins, the Wat- 
 sons, and had eventually decided to adopt 
 their daughter Emily and leave her his for- 
 tune. He did not dare intimate his change 
 of mind to his sister; but the news having 
 reached Mrs. Price in various rumors, she 
 wrote to her brother asking him to confirm or 
 deny these rumors ; and when he admitted 
 their truth, Mrs. Price never spoke to him 
 again. She was a determined woman, and 
 the remembrance of the wrong done to her 
 son never left her. 
 
 While the other children had been a tor- 
 ment and disgrace, Hubert had been to his 
 parents a consolation and a blessing. They 
 had feared that he too might turn to betting 
 and drink, but he had never shown sign of low 
 tastes. He played no games, nor did he care 
 for terriers or horses ; but for books and draw- 
 ing, and long country walks. Immediately on 
 hearing of his disinheritance, he had spoken 
 at once of entering a profession ; and for many 
 months this was the subject of consideration 
 in the rectory. Hubert joined in these dis-
 
 58 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 cussions willingly, but he could not bring 
 himself to accept the army or the bar. It was 
 indeed only necessary to look at him to see 
 that neither soldier's tunic nor lawyer's wig 
 was intended for him ; and it was nearly 
 as clear that those earnest eyes, so intelligent 
 and yet so undetermined in their gaze, were 
 not those of a doctor. 
 
 But his eyes failed to predict his future; 
 his hands told the story of his life distinctly 
 enough those long, white hands, what could 
 they mean but art ? And very soon Hubert 
 began to draw, evincing some natural aptitude. 
 Then an artist came into the neighborhood, 
 the two became friends, and went together on 
 a long sketching tour. Life in the open air, 
 the shade of the hedge, the glare of the high- 
 way, the meditation of the field, the languor 
 of the riverside, the contemplation of wooded 
 horizons, was what Hubert's pastoral nature 
 was most fitted to enjoy ; and, for the sake of 
 the life it afforded, he pursued the calling of 
 a landscape painter long after he had begun 
 to feel his desire turning in another direction. 
 When the landscape on the canvas seemed 
 hopelessly inadequate, he laid aside the brush 
 for the pencil, and strove to interpret the
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 69 
 
 summer fields in verse. From verse he drift- 
 ed into the article and the short story, and 
 from the story into the play. And it was in 
 this last form that he felt himself strongest, 
 and various were the dramas and comedies 
 that he dreamed from year's end to year's end. 
 
 While he was in the midst of his period of 
 verse- writing his mother died, and in the 
 following year, just as he was working at his 
 stories, he received a telegram calling him to 
 attend his father's death-bed. The old man 
 was laid in the shadow of the weather-beaten 
 village church, and Hubert gathered all his 
 belongings and bade farewell forever to the 
 Shropshire rectory. Sitting in the railway 
 carriage, he watched the long line running on 
 to London London, beginning in the fields, 
 a line of lamps stretching behind the sleeping 
 cattle, houses, then fields again, gardens, then 
 a bridge, and the street below freckled with 
 yellow lights. The train shook, springing 
 from rail to rail there was the immense 
 Thames, its gray indefinite perspectives ! 
 
 In London Hubert made few friends. There 
 were some two or three men with whom he 
 was frequently seen quiet folk like himself, 
 whose enjoyment consisted in smoking a tran-
 
 60 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 quil pipe in the evening, or going for long 
 walks in the country. He was one of those 
 men whose indefiniteness provokes curiosity, 
 and his friends noticed and wondered why it 
 was that he was so frequently the theme of 
 their conversation. His simple, unaffected 
 manners were full of suggestion, and in his 
 writings there was always an indefinable rain- 
 bow-like promise of ultimate achievement 
 So, long before he had succeeded in writing a 
 play, detached scenes and occasional verses 
 led his friends into gradual belief that he was 
 one from whom big things might be expected. 
 And when the one-act play which they had 
 all so heartily approved of was produced, and 
 the newspapers praised it, advising the writer 
 to try again, the friends took pride in this 
 public vindication of their opinion. After the 
 production of his play, every Saturday even- 
 ing some fifteen or twenty men used to assem- 
 ble in Hubert's lodgings to drink whiskey, 
 smoke cigars, and talk drama. Encouraged 
 by his success, Hubert wrote " Divorce." The 
 play was refused twice, and then accepted by 
 a theatrical speculator, to whom it seemed to 
 afford opportunity for the exhibition of the 
 talents of a lady he was interested in.
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 61 
 
 There was merit in the play. One section 
 of the press spoke of "foul psychology," while 
 another said, "At last a literary play can be 
 witnessed in London ! " 
 
 The life of the play was brief, but in dying 
 it left a legend behind a legend of undevel- 
 oped talent; a legend of a good play killed 
 by bad acting. And so it was that the pro- 
 duction of " An Ebbing Tide," Hubert's second 
 play, was a theatrical event of importance. 
 Some of the critics argued that it contained 
 scenes as fine as any in " Divorce," but it was 
 admitted on all sides that the interest withered 
 in the later acts. The next three years Hu- 
 bert wasted in various aestheticisms. He ex- 
 plained the difference between the romantic 
 and realistic methods in the reviews; he 
 played with a poetic drama to be called " The 
 King of the Beggars," and it was not until the 
 close of the third year that he settled down to 
 definite work. Then all his energies were 
 concentrated on a new play " The Gipsy." A 
 young woman of Bohemian origin is suddenly 
 taken with the nostalgia of the tent, and 
 leaves her husband and her home to wander 
 with those of her race. He had read portions 
 of this play to his friends, who looked upon
 
 62 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 it as his masterpiece. His fortunes at this 
 time were very low, and he looked to this play 
 to retrieve them. A month's quiet, he thought, 
 was all that was necessary to finish his play, 
 and he thought of going into the country. 
 But the country was always so full of pleasure 
 for him, that he doubted his power to remain 
 in-doors with the temptation of fields and rivers 
 before his eyes, and he thought that to escape 
 from dunning creditors he need only change 
 his address. So he left Norfolk Street for 
 the more remote quarter of Fitzroy Street, 
 where he took a couple of -rooms on the sec- 
 ond floor. One of his fellow-lodgers, he soon 
 found, was Rose Massey, an actress engaged 
 for the performance of small parts at the 
 Queen's Theatre. The first time he spoke to 
 her was on the doorstep. She had forgotten 
 her latch-key, and he said, "Will you allow 
 me to let you in?" She stepped aside, but 
 did not answer him. Hubert thought her 
 rude, but her strange eyes and absent-minded 
 manner had piqued his curiosity, and, having 
 nothing to do that night, he went to the 
 theatre to see her act She was playing a 
 very small part, and one that was evidently 
 unsuited to her a part that was in contra-
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 63 
 
 diction to her nature ; but there was some- 
 thing behind the outer envelope which led 
 him to believe she had real talent, and would 
 make a name for herself when she was given 
 a part that would allow her to reveal what 
 was in her. 
 
 In the meantime, Eose had been told that 
 the gentleman she had snubbed in the pas- 
 sage was Mr. Hubert Price, the author of 
 " Divorca" 
 
 "Oh, it was very silly of me," she said to 
 Annie. " If I had only known ! " 
 
 "Lor', he don't mind ; he'll be glad enough 
 to speak to you when you meets him again." 
 
 And when they met again on the stairs, 
 Rose nodded familiarly, and Hubert said: 
 
 " I went to the Queen's the other night." 
 
 "Did you like the piece?" 
 
 "I did not care about the piece ; but when 
 you get a wild, passionate part to play, you'll 
 make a hit. The sentimental parts they give 
 you don't suit you." 
 
 A sudden light came into the languid face, 
 " Yes, I shall do something if I can get a part 
 like that." 
 
 Hubert told her that he was writing a play 
 containing just such a part
 
 64 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 Her eyes brightened again. '' Will you 
 read me the play ? " she said, fixing her dark, 
 dreamy eyes on him. 
 
 " I shall be very glad. . . . Do you think 
 it won't bore you?" And his wistful gray 
 eyes were full of interrogation. 
 
 "No, I'm sure it won't." 
 
 And a few days after she sent Annie with 
 a note, reminding him of his promise to read 
 her what he had written. As she had only a 
 bedroom, the reading had to take place in his 
 sitting-room. He read her the first and second 
 acts. She was all enthusiasm, and begged 
 hard to be allowed to study the part just to 
 see what she could do with it just to let 
 him see that he was not mistaken in her. Her 
 interest in his work captivated him, and he 
 couldn't refuse to lend her the manuscript.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ROSE often came to see Hubert in his 
 rooms. Her manner was disappointing, and he 
 thought he must be mistaken in his first judg- 
 ment of her talents. But one afternoon she 
 gave him a recitation of the sleep-walking 
 scene in "Macbeth." It was strange to see this 
 little, dark-complexioned, dark-eyed girl, the 
 merest handful of flesh and bone, divest her- 
 self at will of her personality, and assume the 
 tragic horror of Lady Macbeth, or the passion- 
 ate rapture of Juliet detaining her husband- 
 lover on the balcony of her chamber. Hubert 
 watched in wonderment this girl, so weak 
 and languid in her own nature, awaking only 
 to life when she assumed the personality of 
 another. There she lay, her wispy form 
 stretched in his arm-chair, her great dark eyes 
 fixed, her mind at rest, sunk in some inscru- 
 table dream. Her thin hand lay on the arm of 
 the chair: when she woke from her day- 
 dream she burst into irresponsible laughter, 
 or questioned him with petulant curiosity. 
 5
 
 66 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 He looked again : her dark curling hair hung 
 on her swarthy neck, and she was somewhat 
 untidily dressed in blue linen. 
 
 ''Were you ever in love?" she said sud- 
 denly. " I don't suppose you could be ; you 
 are too occupied with your play. I don't 
 know, though ; you might be in love, but I 
 don't know that many women would be in love 
 with you. . . . You are too good a man, and 
 women don't like good men." 
 
 Hubert laughed, and without a trace of 
 offended vanity in his voice he said : " I don't 
 profess to be much of a lady-killer." 
 
 " You don't know what I mean," she said, 
 looking at him fixedly, a maze of half-childish, 
 half-artistic curiosity in her handsome eyes. 
 
 Perplexed in his shy, straightforward na- 
 ture, Hubert inquired if she took sugar in her 
 tea. She said she did ; stretched her feet to 
 the fire, and lapsed into dream. She was one 
 of the enigmas of Stage-land. She supported 
 herself, and went about by herself, looking a 
 poor, lost little thing. She spoke with con- 
 siderable freedom of language on all subjects, 
 but no one had been able to fix a lover upon 
 her. 
 
 " What a part Lady Hay ward is! But tell
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 67 
 
 me I don't quite catch your meaning in the 
 second act. Is this it ? " And starting to her 
 feet, she became in a moment another being. 
 With a gesture, a look, an intonation, she 
 was the woman of the play a woman taken 
 by an instinct, long submerged, but which has 
 floated to the surface, and is beginning to 
 command her actions. In another moment 
 she had slipped back into her weary, lym- 
 phatic nature, at once prematurely old and 
 extravagantly childish. She could not talk of 
 indifferent things ; and having asked some 
 strange questions, and laughed loudly, she 
 wished Hubert " Good-afternoon" in her cu- 
 rious, irresponsible fashion, taking her leave 
 abruptly. 
 
 The next two days Hubert devoted entirely 
 to his play. There were things in it which he 
 knew were good, but it was incomplete. Mon- 
 tague Ford would not produce it in its present 
 form. He must put his shoulder to the wheel 
 and get it right ; one more push, that was all 
 that was wanted. And he could be heard 
 walking to and fro, up and down, along and 
 across his tiny sitting-room, stopping sudden- 
 ly to take a note of an idea that had occurred 
 to him.
 
 68 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 One day he went to Hampstead Heath. A 
 long walk, he thought, would clear his mind, 
 and he returned home thinking of his play. 
 The sunset still glittered in the skies ; the bare 
 trees were beautifully distinct on the blue 
 background of the suburban street, and at the 
 end of the long perspective a 'bus and a han- 
 som could be seen coming towards him. As 
 they grew larger, his thoughts defined them- 
 selves, and the distressing problem of his 
 fourth act seemed to solve itself. That very 
 evening he would sketch out a new dramatic 
 movement, around which all the other move- 
 ments of the act would cluster. But at that 
 moment he thought of his money. He had not 
 counted it for a long while, and quite lately 
 he had paid several bills. It must be sinking 
 very low indeed. So, with a fluttering heart, 
 he ran up-stairs and, taking out the roll of 
 paper in which he kept his little hoard, he 
 emptied it out and proceeded to count it He 
 had a little over six pounds, and it would 
 take him at least six weeks, maybe a couple 
 of months, to finish his play ! He must clear- 
 ly reduce his expenditure. He must, first of 
 all, give up his sitting-room ; that was a luxury 
 he could no longer afford. Mrs. Wilson would
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 69 
 
 let him have the bedroom for ten shillings a 
 week, and he would have to ask her to let 
 him have a little table whereon he could 
 write. Breakfast, whether he had it at home 
 or in the coffee-house, would cost him at least 
 fourpence. He thought he would be able to 
 obtain a fairly good dinner in one of the little 
 Italian restaurants for ninepence. His tea 
 would cost the same as his breakfast. To 
 these sums he must add twopence for tobacco 
 and a penny for an evening paper impossible 
 to do without tobacco, and he must know what 
 was going on in the world. He could, there- 
 fore, live for one shilling and eightpence a 
 day eleven shillings a week to which he 
 would have to add ten shillings a week for 
 rent ; altogether twenty-one shillings a week. 
 He really did not see how he could do it 
 cheaper. Four times twenty-one are eighty- 
 four ; eighty-four shillings for a month of life, 
 and he had a hundred and twenty-five forty- 
 one shillings for incidental expenses. 
 
 Next morning he asked the landlady to let 
 him have a cup of tea and some bread and 
 butter, and he ate as much bread as he could, 
 to save himself from being hungry in the mid- 
 dle of the day. He began work immediately,
 
 70 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 and continued until seven, and feeling then 
 somewhat light-headed, but satisfied with him- 
 self, went to the nearest Italian restaurant 
 The food was better than he had expected ; 
 but he spent twopence more than he had in- 
 tended, so, to accustom himself to a life of strict 
 measure and discipline, he determined to fore- 
 go his tea that evening. And so he lived and 
 worked until the end of the week. 
 
 But the situation he had counted on to com- 
 plete his fourth act had proved almost imprac- 
 ticable in the working out ; he labored on, how- 
 ever, and at the end of the tenth day at least one 
 scene satisfied him. He read it over slowly, 
 carefully, thought about it, decided that it was 
 excellent, and lay down on his bed to con- 
 sider it. At that moment it struck him that 
 he had better calculate how much he had 
 spent in the last ten days. He had spent 
 thirty shillings, and at that rate his money 
 would not hold out. He must reduce his 
 expenditure ; but how ? Impossible to find a 
 room where he could live more cheaply than 
 in the one he had got, and it is not easy to 
 dine in London on less than ninepence. Only 
 the poor can live cheaply. He pressed his 
 hands to his face. His bead seemed like split-
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 71 
 
 ting, and his monetary difficulty, united with 
 his literary difficulties, produced a momentary 
 insanity. Work that morning was impossible, 
 so he went out to study the eating-houses of 
 the neighborhood. He must find one where he 
 could dine for sixpence. Or he might buy a 
 pound of cooked beef and take it home with 
 him in a paper bag ; but that would mean an 
 almost intolerable imprisonment in his little 
 room. He could go to a public-house and 
 dine off a sausage and potato. But at that 
 moment his attention was caught by black 
 letters on a dun, yellowish ground : " Lock- 
 hard's Cocoa Rooms." Not having break- 
 fasted, he decided to have a cup of cocoa and 
 a roll. 
 
 But notwithstanding all his economies, he 
 found himself at last obliged to write to Ford 
 for an advance of money. But Ford replied 
 that he would advance money only on the 
 delivery of the completed manuscript. And 
 the whole of one night, in a room hardly eight 
 feet long, sitting on his bed, he strove to com- 
 plete the fourth and fifth acts. But under the 
 pressure of such necessity ideas died within 
 him. And all through the night, and even 
 when the little window, curtained with a bit
 
 72 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 of muslin hardly bigger than a pocket-hand- 
 kerchief, had grown white with dawn, he 
 sat gazing at the sheet of paper, his brain 
 on fire, unable to think. Laying his pen 
 down in despair, he thought of the thousands 
 who would come to his aid if they only 
 knew if they only knew ! And soon after 
 he heard life beginning again in the street. 
 He felt that his brain was giving way, that if 
 he did not find change, whatever it was, he 
 must surely run raving mad. He had had 
 enough of England, and would leave it for 
 America, Australia, anywhere. He wanted 
 change. The present was unendurable. How 
 would he get to America ? Perhaps a clerk- 
 ship on board one of the great steamships 
 might be obtained. 
 
 The human animal in extreme misery be- 
 comes self-reliant, and Hubert hardly thought 
 of making application to his uncle. The last 
 time he had applied for help his letter had 
 remained unanswered, and he now felt that he 
 must make his own living or die. And, quite 
 indifferent as to what might befall him, he 
 walked next day to the Victoria Docks. He 
 did not know where or how to apply for 
 work, and he tired himself in fruitless en-
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 73 
 
 deavor. At last he felt he could strive with 
 fate no longer, and wandered mile after mile, 
 amused and forgetful of his own misery in the 
 spectacle of the river the rose sky, the long 
 perspectives, the houses and warehouses show- 
 ing in fine outline, and then the wonderful 
 blue night gathering in the forest of masts 
 and rigging. He was admirably patient 
 There was no fretfulness in his soul, nor did 
 he rail against the world's injustice, but took 
 his misfortunes with sweet gentleness. 
 
 He slept in a public-house, and next day 
 resumed his idle search for employment. The 
 weather was mild and beautiful; his wants 
 were simple a cup of coffee and a roll, a 
 couple of sausages and the day passed in a 
 sort of morose and passionless contemplation. 
 He thought of everything and nothing, least of 
 all of how he should find money for the mor- 
 row. When the day came, and the penny to 
 buy a cup of coffee was wanting, he quite 
 naturally, without giving it a second thought, 
 engaged himself as a laborer, and worked all 
 day carrying sacks of grain out of a vessel's 
 hold. For a large part of his nature was 
 patient and simple, docile as an animal's. 
 There was in him so much that was rudimen-
 
 74 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 tary, that in accepting this burden of physical 
 toil he was acting not in contradiction to, but 
 in full and perfect harmony with, his true 
 nature. 
 
 But at the end of a week his health began 
 to give way, and, like a man after a violent 
 debauch, he thought of returning to a more 
 normal existence. He had left the manuscript 
 of his unfortunate play in the North. Had 
 they destroyed it? The involuntary fear of 
 the writer for his child made him smile. 
 What did it matter? Clearly the first thing 
 to do would be to write to the editor of The 
 Cosmopolitan, and ask if he could find him 
 some employment, something certain ; writing 
 occasional articles for newspapers, that he 
 couldn't do. 
 
 Hubert had saved twelve shillings. He 
 would therefore be able to pay his landlady : 
 he smiled one of his landladies ! The earlier 
 debt was now hopelessly out of his reach, and 
 seemed to represent a social plane from which 
 he had forever fallen. If he had succeeded 
 in getting that play right, what a difference 
 it would have made ! He would have been 
 able to do a number of things he had never 
 done, things which he had always desired to
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 75 
 
 do. He had desired above all to travel to 
 see France and Italy ; to linger, to muse in 
 the shadows of the world's past; and after 
 this he had desired marriage, an English wife, 
 an English home, beautiful children, leisure, 
 the society of friends. A successful play 
 would have given him all these things, and 
 now his dream must remain forever unrealized 
 by him. He had sunk out of sight and hear- 
 ing of such lifa 
 
 Eose was another ; she might sink as he had 
 sunk ; she might never find the opportunity 
 of realizing her desire. How well she would 
 have played that part ! He knew what was 
 in her. And now ! What did his failure to 
 write that play condemn him to? Heaven 
 only knows, he did not wish to think. Strange, 
 was it not strange? . . . A man of genius 
 many believed him a genius and yet he was 
 incapable of earning his daily bread otherwise 
 than by doing the work of a navvj 7 . Even 
 that he could not do well ; society had softened 
 his muscles and effeminized his constitution. 
 Indeed, he did not know what life fate had 
 willed him for. He seemed to be out of place 
 everywhere. His best chance was to try to 
 obtain a clerkship. The editor of The Cosmo-
 
 76 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 politan might be able to do that for him ; if 
 he could not, far better it would be to leave a 
 world in which he was out of place, and through 
 no fault of his own that was the hard part 
 of it. Hard part! Nonsense! What does 
 Fate know of our little rights or wrongs or 
 care? Her intentions are inscrutable; she 
 watches us come and go, and gives no sign. 
 Prayers are vain. The good man is punished, 
 and the wicked is sent on his way rejoicing. 
 
 In such mournful thought, his clothes 
 stained and torn, with all the traces of a 
 week's toil in the docks upon them, Hubert 
 made his way around St. Paul's and across 
 Holborn. As he was about to cross Oxford 
 Street he heard some one accost him : 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Price, is that you ? Where have 
 you been all this time?" 
 
 She seemed so strange, so small, and so 
 much alone in the great thoroughfare, that 
 Hubert forgot all his own troubles in his in- 
 terest in this little mite. 
 
 " Where have you been hiding yourself ? 
 It is lucky I met you. Don't you know that 
 Ford has decided to revive ' Divorce ' ? " 
 
 " You don't mean it ? " 
 
 "Yes; Ford said the last acts of 'The
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 77 
 
 Gipsy ' were not satisfactorily worked out, 
 and as there was something wrong with Ham- 
 ilton Brown's piece, he has decided to re- 
 vive 'Divorce.' He says it never was prop- 
 erly played. . . . He thinks he'll make a hit 
 in the husband's part, and I dare say he will. 
 But I have been unfortunate again ; I wanted 
 the part of the adventuress. I really could 
 play it I don't look it, I know. ... I have 
 no weight, but I could play it, for all that. 
 The public mightn't see me in it at first, but 
 in five minutes they would." 
 
 " And what part has he cast you for the 
 young girl ? " 
 
 u Of course ; there's no other part. He says 
 I look it ; but what's the good of looking it 
 when you don't feel it ? If he had cast me 
 for Mrs. Barrington, I should have had just 
 the five minutes in the second act that I have 
 been waiting for so long, and I should have 
 just wiped Miss Osborne out, acted her off the 
 stage. ... I know I should ; you needn't 
 believe it if you don't like, but I know I 
 should." 
 
 Hubert wondered how any one could feel so 
 sure of herself, and then he said, " Yes, I think 
 you could do just what you say. . . . How
 
 78 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 do you think Miss Osborne will play the 
 part?'' 
 
 " She'll be correct enough ; she'll miss 
 nothing, and yet somehow she'll miss the 
 whole thing. But you must go at once to 
 Ford. He was saying only this morning that 
 if you didn't turn up soon, he'd have to give 
 up the idea." 
 
 " I can't go and see him to-night. You see 
 what a state I'm in." 
 
 " You're rather dusty ; where have you 
 been? What have you been doing? " 
 
 "I've been down at the dock. ... I 
 thought of going to America." 
 
 " Well, we'll talk about that another time. 
 It doesn't matter if you are a bit dusty and 
 worn-out-looking. Now that he's going to 
 revive your play, he'll let you have some 
 money. You might get a new hat, though. 
 I don't know how much they cost, but I've 
 five shillings ; can you get one for that ? " 
 
 Hubert thanked her. 
 
 " But you are not offended? " 
 
 " Offended, my dear Rose ! I shall be 
 able to manage. I'll get a brush up some- 
 where." 
 
 " That's all right. Now I'm going to jump
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 79 
 
 into that 'bus." And she signed with her para- 
 sol to the conductor. " Mind you see Ford 
 to-night," she cried ; and a moment after he 
 saw a small space of blue back seated against 
 one of the windows.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 To avoid commiseration of heartless friends 
 and the triumphant glances of literary ene- 
 mies, Hubert passed through the door leading 
 on to the stage. Scene-shifters were brutal- 
 ly pushing away what remained of his play : 
 and the presence of Hamilton Brown, the 
 dramatic author, talking to Ford was at that 
 moment particularly disagreeable. Catching 
 sight of Hubert, Brown ran to him, shook him 
 by the hand, and murmured some discreet 
 congratulations. Brown's insincerity was 
 sufficiently transparent; but men in Hubert's 
 position catch at straws, and he soon began to 
 believe that the attitude of the public toward 
 his play was not so unfavorable as he had 
 imagined. 
 
 He tried to summon up a smile for the stage- 
 door keeper, who, he feared, had heard that 
 the piece had failed, and then the moment 
 they got outside he begged Rose to' tell him 
 the exact truth. She assured him that Ford 
 had said that he had alwavs counted on a
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 81 
 
 certain amount of opposition ; but that he be- 
 lieved that the general public, being more free 
 of prejudice and less sophisticated, would be 
 impressed by the simple humanity of the play. 
 The conversation paused, and at the end of an 
 irritating silence he said : "You were excellent, 
 as good as any one could be in a part that did 
 not suit them. Ah, if he had cast you for the 
 adventuress, how you would have played 
 it! . . ." 
 
 " I'm so glad you are pleased. I hope my 
 notices will be good. Do you think they 
 will?" 
 
 "Yes, your notices will be all right," he 
 answered, with a sigh. 
 
 " And your notices will be all right too. No 
 one can say what is going to succeed. There 
 was a call after each of the last three acts. 
 ... I don't see how a piece could go 
 better. It is the suspense. ..." 
 
 " Ah, yes, the suspense ! " 
 
 They lingered on the landing, and Hubert 
 said: "Won't you come in for a moment?" 
 She followed him into the room. His calm 
 face, usually a perfect picture of repose and 
 self-possession, betrayed his emotion by a 
 certain blankness in the eyes, certain contrac- 
 6
 
 82 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 tions in the skin of the forehead. "I'm 
 afraid," he said, "there's DO hope." 
 
 " Oh, you mustn't say that ! " she replied. 
 ''I think it went very well indeed. ... 1 
 know I did nothing with the young girl. I 
 oughtn't to have undertaken the part'' 
 
 " You were excellent If we only get some 
 good notices. If we don't, I shall never get 
 another play of mine acted." He looked at 
 her imploringly, thirsting for a woman's sym- 
 pathy. But the little girl was thinking of 
 certain effects which she would have made, 
 and which the actress who had played the 
 adventuress had failed to make. 
 
 "I watched her all the time," she said, 
 "following even 7 line, saying all the time, ' Oh 
 yes, that's all very nice and very proper, my 
 young woman ; but it's not it; no, not at all 
 not within a hundred miles of it' I don't 
 think she ever really touched the part do 
 you ? " Hubert did not answer, and a quiver 
 of distraction ran through the muscles of her 
 face. 
 
 " Why don't you answer me? " 
 
 " I can't answer you," he said abruptly. 
 Then remembering, he added: "Forgive me; 
 I can think of nothing now." He hid his face
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 83 
 
 in his hands, and sobbed twice two heavy, 
 choking sobs, pregnant with the weight of 
 anguish lying on his heart 
 
 Seeing how much he suffered, she laid her 
 hand on his shoulder. " I am very sorry ; I 
 wish I could help you. I know how it tears 
 the heart when one cannot get out what one 
 has in one's brain." 
 
 Her artistic appreciation of his suffering 
 only jarred him the more. What he longed 
 for was some kind, simple-hearted woman 
 who would say : "Never mind, dear ; the play 
 was perfectly right, only they did not under- 
 stand it ; I love you better than ever." But 
 Eose could not give him the sympathy he 
 wanted ; and to be alone was almost a relief. 
 He dared not go to bed ; he sat looking into 
 space. As the roar of London hushed, the 
 hissing of the gas grew louder, and still 
 Hubert sat thinking, the same thoughts bat- 
 tling in his brain. He looked into the future, 
 but could see nothing but suicide. His uncle ? 
 He had applied to him before for help ; there 
 was no hope there. Then he tramped up and 
 down, maddened by the infernal hissing of 
 the gas; and then threw himself into his 
 arm-chair. And so a terrible night wore
 
 84 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 away ; and it was not until long after the 
 early carts had begun to rattle in the streets 
 that exhaustion brought an end to his suffer- 
 ings, and he rolled into bed. 
 
 He slept for several hours a heavy, dream- 
 less sleep from which he was at last startled 
 by a loud knocking at the door. 
 
 "What will ye 'ave to eat? Eggs and 
 bacon ? " 
 
 "No, no!" 
 
 "Well, then, 'ave a chop?" 
 
 "No, no!" 
 
 " Ye must 'ave something." 
 
 "A cup of tea, a slice of toast. I'm not 
 hungry." 
 
 " Well, ye are worse than a young lady for 
 a happetite. Miss Massey 'as sent you down 
 these 'ere papers." 
 
 The servant-girl laid the papers on the bed, 
 and Hubert lay back on his pillow, so that he 
 might collect his thoughts. Stretching forth 
 his hands, he selected the inevitable paper. 
 
 " For those who do not believe that our 
 English home life is composed mainly, if not 
 entirely, of lying, drunkenness, and conjugal 
 infidelity, and its sequel, divorce, yester even- 
 ing at the Queen's Theatre must have been a
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 85 
 
 sad and dismal experience. That men and 
 women who have vowed to love each other do 
 sometimes prove false to their troth no reason- 
 able man will deny. With the divorce court 
 before our eyes, even the most enthusiastic 
 believer in the natural goodness and ultimate 
 perfectibility of human nature must admit 
 that men and women are frail. But drunk- 
 enness and infidelity are happily not charac- 
 teristic of our English homes. Then why, 
 we ask, should a dramatist select such a 
 theme, and by every artifice of dialogue force 
 into prominence all that is mean and painful 
 in an unfortunate woman's life? Always the 
 same relentless method ; the cold, passionless 
 curiosity of the vivisector; the scalpel is 
 placed under the nerve, and we are called 
 upon to watch the quivering flesh. Never 
 the kind word, the tears, the effusion, which 
 is man's highest prerogative, and which sep- 
 arates him from the brute and signifies the 
 immortal end for which he was created. We 
 hold that it is a pity to see so much talent 
 wasted, and it was indeed a melancholy sight 
 to see so many capable actors and actresses 
 
 laboring to " 
 
 "This is even worse than usual," said
 
 86 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 Hubert ; and glancing through half a column 
 of hysterical commonplace, he came upon the 
 following: 
 
 "But if this woman had succeeded in re- 
 claiming from vice the man who unjustly 
 divorced her, and who in his misery goes 
 back to ask her forgiveness for pity's sake, 
 what a lesson we should have had ! And, 
 with lightened and not with heavier hearts, 
 we should have left the theatre comforted, 
 better and happier men and women. But 
 turning his back on the goodness, truth, and 
 love whither he had induced us to believe he 
 was leading us, the author flagrantly makes 
 the woman contradict her whole nature in the 
 last act; and, because her husband falls again, 
 she, instead of raising him with all the tender 
 mercies and humanities of wifehood, declares 
 that her life has been one long mistake, and 
 that she accepts the divorce which the court 
 has unjustly granted. The moral, if such a 
 word may be applied to such a piece, is 
 this : ' The law may be bad, but human nature 
 is worse.' " 
 
 Nearly all the other papers took the same 
 view a great deal of talent wasted on a 
 subject that could please no one. Hubert
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 87 
 
 threw the papers aside, lay back, and in the 
 lucid idleness of the bed his thoughts grew 
 darker. It was impossible that the piece 
 could survive such notices; and if it did not? 
 Well, he would have to go. But until the 
 piece was taken out of the bills it would be 
 a weakness to harbor the ugly thought. 
 
 Every post brought newspapers ; the room 
 was filled with newspapers all kinds of 
 newspapers papers one has never heard of 
 French papers, Welsh papers, North of Eng- 
 land papers, Scotch and Irish papers. Hubert 
 read columns about himself, anecdotes of all 
 kinds where he was born, who were his 
 parents, and what first induced him to at- 
 tempt writing for the stage ; his personal ap- 
 pearance, mode of life, the cut of his clothes ; 
 his religious, moral, and political views. Had 
 he been the plaintiff in an action for criminal 
 libel, greater industry in the collection and 
 fabrication of personal details could not have 
 been displayed. But at these articles Hubert 
 only glanced ; he was interested in his piece, 
 not in himself, and when Annie brought up 
 The Modern Review he tore it open, knowing 
 he would find there criticism more funda- 
 mental, more searching. But as he read, the
 
 88 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 expression of hope which his face wore 
 changed to one of pain pitiful to look upon. 
 The article began with a sketch of the gen- 
 eral situation, and in a tone of commiseration, 
 of benevolent malice, the writer pointed out 
 how inevitable it was that the critics should 
 have taken Mr. Price, when "Divorce" was 
 first produced, for the new dramatic genius 
 they were waiting for. " There comes a mo- 
 ment," said this caustic writer, " in the affairs 
 of men when the new is not only eagerly 
 accepted, but when it is confounded with the 
 original. Wearied by the old stereotyped 
 form of drama, the critics had been astonished 
 by a novelty of subject, more apparent than 
 real, and by certain surface qualities in the 
 execution ; they had hailed the work as 
 being original both in form and in matter, 
 whereas all that was good in the play had 
 been borrowed from France and Scandinavia. 
 ' Divorce ' was the inevitable product of the 
 time. It had been written by Mr. Price, but 
 it might have been written by a dozen other 
 young men granting intelligence, youth, 
 leisure, a university education, and three or 
 four years of London life any one of a dozen 
 clever young men who frequent West End
 
 VAIN FORT 'UN K 89 
 
 drawing-rooms and dabble in literature might 
 have written it. All that could be said was 
 that the play was, or rather had been, dans le 
 mouvement ; and original work never is dans le 
 mouvement. ' Divorce ' was nothing more than 
 the product of certain surroundings, and re- 
 membering Mr. Price's other plays, there 
 seemed to be no reason to believe that he 
 would do better. Mr. Price had tried his 
 hand at criticism, and that was a sure sign 
 that the creative faculty had begun to wither. 
 His critical essays were not rich nor abundant 
 in thought, they were not the skirmishing of 
 a man fighting for his ideas, they were not 
 preliminary to a great battle; they were at 
 once vague and pedantic, somewhat futile, les 
 ebats d'un esprit en peine, and seemed to an- 
 - nounce a talent in progress of disintegration 
 rather than of reconstruction. Sometimes the 
 critic's phrases seemed wet with tears ; some- 
 times, abandoning his tone of commiseration, 
 he would assume one of scientific indifference. 
 The phenomenon was the commonest. There 
 were dozens of Hubert Prices in London. 
 The universities and the newspapers, work- 
 ing singly and in collaboration, turned them 
 out by the dozen. And the mission of these
 
 90 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 men of intelligent culture seemed to be to 
 po&r des lapins sur la jeune presse. Each 
 one came in turn with his little volume of 
 poems, his little play, his little picture; all 
 were men of 'advanced ideas' ; in other words, 
 they were all dans le mouvement. There was 
 the rough Hubert Price, who made mild con- 
 sternation in the drawing-room, and there was 
 the sophisticated Hubert Price, who cajoled 
 the drawing-room ; there was the sincere 
 and the insincere, and the Price that suffered 
 and the Price that didn't. Each one brought 
 a different nuance, a thousand infinitesimal 
 variations of the type, but considered merely in 
 its relation to art, the species may be said to 
 be divided into two distinct categories. In the 
 first category are those who rise almost at the 
 first bound to a certain level, who produce 
 quickly, never reaching again the original 
 standard, dropping a little lower at each suc- 
 cessive effort until their work becomes indis- 
 tinguishable from the ordinary artistic com- 
 mercialism of the time. The fate of those in 
 the second category is more pathetic; they 
 gradually wither and die away like flowers 
 planted in a thin soil. Among these men 
 many noble souls are to be found, men who
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 91 
 
 have surrendered all things for love of their 
 art, and who seemed at starting to be the best 
 equipped to win, but who failed, impossible to 
 tell how or why. Sometimes their failure turns 
 to comedy, sometimes to tragedy. They may 
 become refined, delicate, elderly bachelors, 
 the ornaments of drawing-rooms, professional 
 diners-out men with brilliant careers behind 
 them. But if fate has not willed that they 
 should retire into brilliant shells; if chance 
 does not allow them to retreat, to separate 
 themselves from their kind, but arbitrarily 
 joins them to others, linking their fate to the 
 fate of others' unhappiness, disaster may and 
 must accrue from the alliance; honesty of pur- 
 pose, trueness of heart, deep love, every great, 
 good, and gracious quality to be found in 
 nature, will not suffice to save them." 
 
 Hubert read no more. What were philo- 
 sophical reflections to him? The paper 
 dropped from his hands, and he recollected 
 all his failures. 
 
 " Once I could do good work ; now I can 
 do neither good work nor bad. Were I a 
 rich man, I should collect mfy scattered papers 
 and write songs to be sung in drawing-rooms; 
 but being a poor one, I must I suppose I
 
 92 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 must get out. Positively, there is no hope 
 debts on every side. Fate has willed me to go 
 as went Haydon, Gerard de Nerval, and Mare- 
 chal. The first cut his throat, the second 
 hanged himself, and the third blew out his 
 brains. Clearly the time has come to consider 
 how I shall make my exit. It is a little start- 
 ling to be called upon so peremptorily to go." 
 He only glanced at the letter which Annie 
 had brought up with the copy of The Modern 
 Review. It was clearly a lawyer's letter. 
 Should he open it? Why not spare himself 
 the pain? He could alter nothing; and in 
 these last days Leaving the thought 
 unfinished, be sought for his keys; he went 
 to his box, unlocked it, and took out a small 
 paper package. Of the fifty pounds he had 
 received from Ford, about twenty remained : 
 he had been poorer before, but hardly quite 
 so hopeless. He scanned every horizon all 
 were barred. The thought of suicide, and 
 with it the instinctive shrinking from it, came 
 into his mind again. Suppose he took, that 
 very night, an overdose of chloral? He tried 
 to put the thought from him, and returned, a 
 little dazed and helpless, to his chair. Had 
 the critic in The Modern Review told him the
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 93 
 
 truth ? Was he incapable of earning a living ? 
 It seemed so. Above all, was he incapable 
 of finishing "The Gipsy" as he intended? 
 No; that he felt was a lie. Give him six 
 months' quiet, free from worry and all anxi- 
 ety, and he would do it. Many a year had 
 passed since he had enjoyed a month of 
 quiet; and glancing again at the letter on the 
 table, he thought that perhaps at that very 
 moment a score of gallery boys were hissing 
 his play. Perhaps at that very moment Ford 
 was making up his mind to announce the last 
 six nights of "Divorce." At a quarter to 
 twelve he heard Eose's foot on the stairs. He 
 opened the door. 
 
 " How did the piece go to-night ? " 
 
 " Pretty well." 
 
 " Only pretty well ? Won't you come in for 
 a few minutes ? . . . So the piece didn't go 
 very well to-night ? " 
 
 "Oh, yes, it did. I've seen it go better; 
 but " 
 
 " Did you get a call ?" 
 
 " Yes, after the second act." 
 
 "Not after the third?" 
 
 " No. That act never goes well. Harding 
 came behind ; I was speaking to him, and
 
 94 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 he said something which struck me as being 
 very true. ' Ford,' he said, ' plays the part a 
 great deal too seriously. When the piece 
 was first produced, it was played more good- 
 humoredly by indifferent actors, who let the 
 thing run without trying to bring out every 
 point. Ford makes it as hard as nails.' I 
 think those were his exact words." 
 
 Hubert did not answer. At the end of a 
 long silence he said : 
 
 "Did you hear anything about the last 
 nights ? " 
 
 " No," she said; " I heard nothing of that" 
 
 " Ford appeared quite satisfied, then ? " 
 
 " Yes, quite," she answered with difficulty ; 
 for his eyes were fixed on her, and she felt he 
 knew she was not telling the truth. The con- 
 versation paused again, and to turn it into 
 another channel she said : " Why, you have 
 not opened your letter ! " 
 
 " I can see it is a lawyer's letter, on account 
 of some unpaid bill. If I could pay it I 
 would ; but as I can't 
 
 " You are afraid to open it," said Rose. 
 
 Ashamed of his weakness, Hubert opened 
 the letter, and began to read. Rose saw that 
 the letter was not such an one as he had ex-
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 95 
 
 pected, and a moment after his face told her 
 that fortunate news had come to him. The 
 signs of the tumult within were represented 
 by the passing of the hand across the brow, 
 as if to brush aside some strange hallucination, 
 and the sudden coming of a vague look of 
 surprise and fear into the eyes. He said : 
 
 "Bead it! Bead it! I'm not dreaming, 
 ami?" 
 
 "No, you are not. Your uncle has left his 
 money to you. I am so glad ; indeed, I am. 
 You will be able to finish your play, and take 
 a theatre and produce it yourself if you like. 
 I hope you won't forget me. I do want to 
 play that part. You can't quite know what 
 I shall do with it. One can't explain one's self 
 in a scene here and there. . . . What are you 
 thinking of?" 
 
 "I'm thinking of that poor girl, Emily 
 Watson. It comes very hard upon her." 
 
 "Who is she?" 
 
 " The girl my uncle disinherited." 
 
 " Oh, she ! Well, you can marry her if you 
 like. That would not be a bad notion. But 
 if you do you'll forget all about me and Lady 
 Hay ward." 
 
 "No ; I shall never forget you, Rose." He
 
 96 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 stretched his hand to her; but, irrespective 
 of his will, the gesture seemed full of fare- 
 well. 
 
 "I'm so much obliged to you," he said; 
 " had it not been for you I might never have 
 opened that letter." 
 
 " Even if you hadn't it wouldn't have mat- 
 tered ; you would have heard of your good 
 fortune some other way. But it is getting 
 very late. I must say good-night. I hope 
 you will have a pleasant time in the country, 
 and will finish your play. Good-night" 
 
 Returning from the door, he stopped to 
 think. "We have been very good friends 
 that is all. She spoke of my going away to 
 the country. ... I think I could write my 
 play in the country. Oh, to get away from 
 here, from this detestable room, where I have 
 suffered so much. It seems a little cruel to 
 leave her, and yet there is no reason why it 
 should. She does not care for me, she only 
 cares for her art She cares for her art, I 
 believe, even more than I do for mine. How 
 strangely determined she is! ... More so 
 than I am. She is bound to succeed. There 
 is in her just that note of individual passion. 
 . . . Perhaps some one will find her out
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 97 
 
 before I have finished that would be a pity. 
 I wonder which of us will succeed first? " 
 
 Then the madness of good fortune came 
 upon him suddenly ; he could think no more 
 of Rose, and had to go for a long walk in the 
 streets. He remained out the whole of the 
 summer night, wandering about, a prey to 
 nervous agitation, and returned home, his 
 head still full of whirling dreams, to snatch a 
 few hours of troubled sleep before he went to 
 the solicitor to hear the detailed story of his 
 good fortune. He was curiously interested in 
 his cousin, and though he did not pretend to 
 think that his uncle had been guilty of an in- 
 justice in not leaving the bulk of his fortune 
 to her, he agreed with Mr. Grandly in the 
 view that Mr. Burnett should have made suf- 
 ficient provision for her. 
 
 The conversation paused. Then speaking 
 suddenly, Mr. Grandly said : 
 
 " If you have any communication to make 
 to Miss Watson, I shall be pleased to take 
 charge of it." 
 
 " I shall be glad if you will. ... It is a 
 very delicate matter, but I have every con- 
 fidence in your tact and judgment." 
 
 Mr. Grandly bowed. 
 7
 
 98 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 " I quite understand my cousin must feel 
 this disinheritance very deeply." 
 
 "I have reason to believe that she does; 
 she had been brought up to consider Mr. 
 Burnett as her father. But I may again bring 
 it under your notice that he was considering 
 the necessity of adding a codicil. . . . Indeed 
 I have some letters in which reference is made 
 if you would like to see them." 
 
 Mr. Grandly opened a drawer, and, taking 
 out a bundle of letters, he sought for one. 
 Finding it, he read a few lines, and ^v.^ed it 
 across the table to Hubert. 
 
 Then Hubert proposed that Mr. Grandly 
 should write to Miss Watson, asking her to 
 corne up to London to meet her cousin at his 
 office. Mr. Grandly agreed to do this; but 
 after some further conversation, in which the 
 excellence of Hubert's feelings was evident, 
 Mr. Grandly was moved to advise Hubert to 
 jump into the train and go down and see the 
 young lady himself. 
 
 "It is a delicate matter, sir ; but if you run 
 down, as I advise, and, claiming relationship, 
 tell the young lady that you intend to settle 
 three hundred a year upon her, I venture to 
 say you will please her more than if you
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 99 
 
 invited her up here and settled six hundred 
 a year." Mr. Grandly threw himself back in 
 his chair, and a twinkle ran round the corner 
 of his eyes. " And if you should ever feel 
 inclined to call in the three hundred you so 
 generously propose to settle on the young lady, 
 you will find that " Mr. Grandly finished 
 his sentence with a laugh. 
 
 Hubert did not doubt that Mr. Grandly was 
 right; but he was a shy, reserved man, and 
 felt he could not go down to Ash wood and 
 introduce himself to those two ladies. Mr. 
 Grandly tried to persuade him, and finally 
 the matter was compromised. Mr. Grandly 
 promised to write to Miss Watson, telling her 
 of. her cousin's desire to see her, and asking 
 her to send a trap to meet him at the station 
 on Monday. If Hubert took the half-past four 
 train from Victoria, he would arrive at South 
 Water at six. 
 
 On Saturday night Hubert went to see the 
 last performance of " Divorca" On Sunday he 
 took Rose out to dinner. They dined at the 
 Cafe Royal ; the dinner was copious and ex- 
 pensive, the wine was the rarest; but they 
 both felt that their dinners in little side- 
 streets had given them more pleasure. Hu-
 
 100 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 bert tried to talk to her about Hamilton 
 Brown's new drama, which they had just 
 heard would follow "Divorce;" but he was 
 unable to detach his thoughts from Ashwood 
 and the ladies he was going to visit to-morrow 
 evening. They felt like two school-fellows, one 
 of whom is leaving school ; the link that had 
 bound them had snapped ; henceforth their 
 ways lay separate; and they were sad at 
 parting, just as school -friends are sad. To 
 both of them their friendship seemed strangely 
 incomplete; there was a restlessness in their 
 souls ; and yet both knew that they were not 
 in love. Both felt, however, that things 
 should have turned out differently. The 
 girl thought he should have finished the 
 play ; he thought he ought to have married 
 her. 
 
 " You are not rich," he said ; " you offered 
 to lend me money once. I want to lend you 
 some now." 
 
 " Oh, yes," she said, with a sudden laugh ; 
 " five shillings, wasn't it? " 
 
 " It doesn't matter what the sum was ; we 
 were both very poor then " 
 
 " And I'm still poorer now." 
 
 " All the more reason why you should allow
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 101 
 
 me to help you. . . . Allow me to write you 
 a cheque for a hundred pounds. I assure you 
 I can afford it." 
 
 " I think I had better not. ... I have some 
 things I can sell." 
 
 " But you must not sell your things. In- 
 deed, you must allow me 
 
 "I think I'd rather not. I shall be all 
 right that is to say, if Ford engages me for 
 Brown's new piece ; and I think he will." 
 
 "But if he doesn't?" 
 
 " Then," she said, with a sweet and natural 
 smile, " I'll write to you. . . . We have been 
 excellent friends, comrades have we not? " 
 
 "Yes, we have, indeed, and I shall never 
 forget. There is my address ; that will al- 
 ways find me." 
 
 Next day he bade good-by to the whole 
 house to Mrs. Wilson, to Annie, and once 
 more to Rose. He caught up his rug, and a 
 moment after he was driving toward Victoria. 
 Before he reached the railway station the last 
 realities of the lodging-house, the good-bys 
 bidden on the doorstep, began to fade, and he 
 again lost himself in the glamour and hallu- 
 cination of the new life which chance had so 
 unexpectedly thrust upon him. Like one in
 
 102 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 fairyland, he was prepared for everything. 
 Anything might happen. He had ceased to 
 calculate, had surrendered himself up to 
 nature; and puzzled by the irregularity of 
 her metre, he listened to the rattle of the train, 
 and took a vague joy in watching the white 
 steam going out and dispersing over the rich 
 country just beginning to ripen into summer. 
 This house, this property, these ladies! He 
 wondered what they would say, what he 
 should say ; and in extreme nervousness re- 
 gretted not having given the solicitor fuller 
 instructions. 
 
 "When he got out of the train, a smart foot- 
 man touched his hat, and a fast-trotting ani- 
 mal took him rapidly through a small red 
 town into a fine open country, the outlines of 
 which were beginning to grow dim in the 
 setting light.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 NEXT morning Hubert lay late in bed, 
 tempted by the fineness of the sheets and the 
 bright air and color of the room. About 
 half-past ten he found his way into the din- 
 ing-room, and, remembering Fitzroy Street, 
 he smiled when the butler proposed devilled 
 chicken, kidneys, omelette, cutlets, sausages. 
 On the sideboard there were a pale, enticing 
 ham and a rich brown tongue. Mrs. Bentley 
 poured out a cup of coffee for him, and boiled 
 two eggs by lighting a spirit lamp beneath a 
 pretty silver spirit apparatus that stood on 
 the dining-room table. He asked after Emily, 
 and was told she had quite recovered, and 
 was now in the flower-garden. Seeing he had 
 all he wanted, she begged him to excuse her. 
 Then his thoughts went to Emily, whom he 
 imagined among the swards and flower-beds, 
 looking after the gardener. He knew he 
 would have to go to her when he had finished 
 breakfast, and wished the meeting was over. 
 He dreaded her reproachful eyes.
 
 104 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 It was a day of English summer, and the 
 meadows and trees drowsed in the moist at- 
 mosphere ; a few white clouds hung lazily in 
 the blue sky ; the garden was bright with 
 geraniums and early roses, and the closely- 
 cropped privets were in full leaf. Hubert's 
 senses were taken with the beauty of the 
 morning, and there came the thought, so de- 
 licious, "All this is mine." He noticed the 
 glitter of the greenhouses, and thought the 
 cawing of some young rooks a sweet sound ; 
 a great tortoise-shell cat lay basking in the 
 middle of the greensward, whisking its furry 
 tail. Hubert stroked the animal ; it arched 
 its back, and rubbed itself against his legs. 
 At that moment a half-bred fox-terrier barked 
 noisily at him ; he heard some one calling the 
 dog, and saw a slight black figure hastening 
 down one of the side- walks. Despite the 
 dog's attempts on his legs, he ran forward. 
 
 " Emily ! Emily ! " he called. She stopped, 
 turned, and stood looking at him. 
 
 " My dear cousin," he said. " I'm sorry 
 about last night. I hope that Mrs. Bentley 
 has told you. I begged of her to do so." 
 
 "Yes, she told me of your kind intentions. 
 I have to thank you."
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 105 
 
 They walked on in silence, neither knowing 
 what to say. 
 
 " Go away, Dandy ! " said Emily, thrusting 
 her black silk parasol at the dog, who had 
 begun an attack on Hubert's trousers. The 
 dog retreated ; Hubert laughed. 
 
 " I'm afraid he doesn't like me." 
 
 "He'll soon get to know you. Are you 
 fond of animals ? " 
 
 "I don't know that I am particularly." 
 
 " Oh ! " she said, looking at him reproach- 
 fully, " how can you ? " Her eyes seemed to 
 say, " I never can like you after that" " I 
 adore animals," .she said. " My dear dog 
 there is nothing in the world I love as I love 
 iny Dandy. Come here, dear." The dog 
 came, wagging his tail, putting back his ears, 
 knowing he was going to be caressed. Emily 
 stooped down, took his rough head in her 
 hands, and kissed him. " Is he not a dear ? " 
 she said, looking up ; and then she said: " I 
 hope you won't object to having him in the 
 house ; " and her face clouded. 
 
 " Oh, my dear Emily, how can you ask 
 such a question ? I shall never object to 
 anything you desire." The conversation 
 paused, and they walked some paces in silence.
 
 106 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 Emily had just begun to speak of her flowers, 
 when they came upon the gardener, who was 
 standing in consternation over the fragments 
 of a broken mowing-machine. Jack that 
 was the donkey had been left to himself just 
 for a moment It was impossible to say what 
 wild freak had taken him ; but instead of 
 waiting, as he was expected to wait, stolidly, 
 he had started off on a wild career, regardless 
 of the safety of the machine. At the first 
 bound it had come in contact with a flower- 
 vase, which had been sent in many pieces 
 over the sward; at the second it had met 
 with some stone coping; and at the third 
 it had turned over in complete dissolution, 
 and Jack was free to tear up the turf with 
 his hoofs, until finally his erratic course was 
 stopped by the small boy who was respon- 
 sible for the animal's behavior. The arrival 
 of Hubert and Emily saved the small boy 
 from many a cuff and the donkey from a kick 
 or two ; and Jack stood amid the ruin he had 
 created, as quiet and as docile a creature as 
 the mind could imagine. 
 
 " Oh, you you wicked Jack ! Who would 
 have thought it of you?" said Emily, 
 throwing her arms round the animal's neck.
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 107 
 
 "And at your age, too! This is my old 
 donkey," she said, turning her dreamy eyes 
 on Hubert " I used to ride him every day 
 until about two years ago. I love my dear 
 old Jack, and would not have him beaten for 
 worlds, although he is so wicked as to break 
 the mowing-machine. Look what you have 
 done to the flower- vase." The animal shook 
 its long ears. 
 
 Hubert and Emily strolled down a long 
 walk, wondering what they should talk about. 
 
 " These are really very pretty grounds," he 
 said at last " I am sure I shall enjoy myself 
 immensely here." The remark appeared to 
 him to be of doubtful taste, and he hastened 
 to add : " That is to say, if I have completely 
 made it up with my pretty cousin." 
 
 " But you have not seen the place yet," she 
 said, speaking still with a certain tremor in 
 her voica " You haven't even seen the gar- 
 dens. Come, and I'll show them to you." 
 
 Hubert would have preferred to walk with 
 her through these ornamental swards ; and he 
 liked the espalier apple-trees with which the 
 garden was divided better than the glare and 
 heat of the greenhouses into which she took 
 him.
 
 108 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 " Do you care for flowers? " 
 
 " Not very much." 
 
 " These are all my flowers," she said, point- 
 ing to many rows of flower-pots. " These are 
 Julia's. You see I run a line of thread around 
 mine, so that there shall be no mistake. She 
 is not nearly so careful as I am, and it isn't 
 nice to find that the plants you have been 
 tending for weeks have been spoilt by over- 
 watering. I don't say she doesn't love them, 
 but she forgets them. . . . Just look at 
 these ; they are devoured by insects. They 
 want to be taken out and given a thorough 
 cleansing. Even then I doubt if they would 
 come out right a plant never forgives you; 
 it is just like a human being." 
 
 " And doesn't a human being ever for- 
 give?" 
 
 " Oh, I didn't mean that I " she said, blush- 
 ing ; " but sometimes I could cry over the 
 poor plants which she neglects. I dare say 
 you will think me very ridiculous, but I do 
 cry sometimes, and sometimes I cannot resist 
 taking them out on the sly, and giving them 
 a thoroughly good syringing only you must 
 not tell her ; we have agreed not to touch each 
 other's flowers. But I cannot bear to see the
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 109 
 
 poor things dying. How do we know that 
 they do not suffer? " 
 
 " I don't think it probable." 
 
 " But we don't know for certain," she 
 said, fixing her great eyes on him. "Do 
 we?" 
 
 " We know nothing for certain," he an- 
 swered; and then he said: "You and Mrs. 
 Bentley have lived a long time together? " 
 
 " No, not very long. About a couple of 
 years. I was about thirteen when I came to 
 Ash wood ; I am now eighteen. Mrs. Bentley 
 is a sort of connection. She is very poor 
 that is why Mr. Burnett asked her to come 
 and live here ; besides, as I grew up I wanted 
 a companion. She has been very good to me. 
 We have been very happy together at least, 
 as happy as one may be ; for I don't think 
 that any one is ever very happy. Have you 
 been very happy ? " 
 
 " I have not always been happy. But tell 
 me more about Mrs. Bentley." 
 
 " There is little more to tell. I naturally 
 love her very much. She nursed me when I 
 was ill and I'm often ill ; she taught me 
 all I know, she cheered me when I was sad 
 when I thought my heart would break ;
 
 110 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 when everybody else seemed unkind she 
 was kind." 
 
 Emily raised her eyes and looked shyly at 
 Hubert; and then, as if doubtful of herself, 
 she said : " Do you like her ? I'm sure you do. 
 Every one does. Do you not think she is 
 very handsome ? " 
 
 " I think her an exceedingly pleasant 
 woman, and I'm sure we shall all get on very 
 well together." 
 
 "But don't you think her very hand- 
 some?" 
 
 " Yes, she is- a handsome woman. 
 
 Nothing more was said. Emily drew med- 
 itatively on the gravel with the point of her 
 parasol. The gardeners looked up from their 
 work. 
 
 " I have to go now," she said, raising her 
 eyes timidly, " to feed the swans. You would 
 not care to go so far ? " 
 
 " On the contrary, I should like it of all 
 things. A walk by the water on a day like 
 this will be quite a treat." 
 
 "Then will you wait a moment? I will go 
 and fetch the bread." She returned soon after 
 with a small basket ; and a large retriever, tied 
 up in the corner of the yard, barked and
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 111 
 
 lugged at his chain. " He knows where I am 
 going, and is afraid I shall forget him aren't 
 you, dear old Don? You wouldn't like to 
 miss a walk with your mistress, would you, 
 dear?" The dog bounded and rushed from 
 side to side ; it was with difficulty that Emily 
 loosed him. Once free, he galloped down the 
 drive, returning at intervals for a caress and a 
 sniff at the basket which his mistress carried. 
 " There's nothing there for you, my beautiful 
 Don ! " 
 
 The drive sloped from the house down to 
 the artificial water, passing under some large 
 elms; and in the twilight of the branches 
 where the sunlight played, and the silence was 
 tremulous with wings, Hubert felt that Emily 
 had forgiven him. She wore the same black 
 dress that he had admired her in the night 
 before ; her waist was confined by the same 
 black band; but the chestnut hair seemed 
 more beautiful beneath the black silk sun- 
 shade, leaned so gracefully, the black handle 
 held between thumb and forefinger. And the 
 little black figure seemed a part of the beauti- 
 ful English park, now so green and fragrant in 
 all the flower and sunlight of June, and deco- 
 rated with a blue summer sky, and white
 
 112 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 clouds moving lazily over the tops of the 
 trees. And the impression of the beautiful 
 park was enforced by its reflection, which lay, 
 with the mute magic of reflected things, in the 
 still water, stirred only when, with exquisite 
 motion of webbed feet, the swans propelled 
 their freshness to and fro, balancing them- 
 selves in the current where they knew the 
 bread must surely fall. 
 
 " They are waiting for me. Cannot you see 
 their black eyes turned toward the bridge?" 
 And she threw the bread from the basket, and 
 the beautiful birds unbent their curved necks, 
 devouring it voraciously under the water. 
 
 In the larger portion of this artificial lake 
 there were two islands, thickly wooded. In 
 the smaller, which lay behind Emily and Hu- 
 bert, there was one small island covered with 
 reeds and low bushes, and this was a favorite 
 haunt for the water-fowl, which now came 
 swimming forward, not daring to approach too 
 near the dangerous swans. 
 
 " These are my friends," said Emily. "They 
 will follow me to the other end, and I shall 
 be able to feed them as we walk along the 
 meadow." 
 
 Don and Dandy bounded through the tall
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 113 
 
 grass ; sometimes foolishly giving chase to the 
 birds that rose up out of the golden grasses, 
 barking in mad eagerness sometimes pursu- 
 ing a hare into the distant woods. The last 
 chase had led them far, and both dogs returned 
 panting to walk till they recovered breath by 
 their mistress's side; and to satisfy the re- 
 triever's affection Emily held one hand to 
 him. Playing gently with his ears, she 
 said: 
 
 " Did you ever see much of Mr. Burnett ? " 
 
 " Not since I was a boy, ten or twelve years 
 ago, when I was at the university; There 
 was absolutely no reason for his doing what 
 he did." 
 
 " Yes, there was," she said, in a strangely 
 decisive tone. 
 
 " May I ask 
 
 " I *do not know if I ought to tell you. It 
 would be better not to. You know," she con- 
 tinued, speaking now with a nervous tremor 
 in her voice, " that I do not want you to think 
 that I am so very disappointed. I do not 
 know that I am disappointed at all. You 
 have acted so generously." 
 
 The conversation fell ; but the sweet meadow 
 seemed to induce confidences, and they were 
 8
 
 114 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 so bappy in their youth and the sorcery of the 
 sunshine. " Five years ago I wrote to him," 
 said Hubert, speaking very slowly, "asking 
 him to lend me fifty. pounds, and he refused. 
 Since then I have not heard from him." At 
 the end of a long silence, the girl said : 
 
 " So long as you know that I am no longer 
 angry with him for having disinherited me, I 
 do not mind telling you the reason. Two 
 months before he died he asked me to marry 
 him, and I refused." 
 
 They walked several yards without speak- 
 ing. 
 
 "Do you not think I was right? I was 
 only eighteen, and he was over sixty." 
 
 " It seems to me quite shocking that he 
 could have even contemplated such a thing." 
 
 " But look at these poor ducks ; they have 
 followed us all the way, and I have forgotten 
 to feed them ! " Taking out all the bread that 
 remained in the basket, Emi]y threw it to the 
 ducks that had collected where the dammed- 
 up stream that filled the lake trickled over a 
 wooden sluice. There was a plank by which 
 to cross the deep cutting. Hubert and Emily 
 paused, and stood gazing at the large beech 
 wood that swept over some rising ground.
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 115 
 
 Don had not been seen for some time, and. 
 they both shouted to him. Presently a black 
 mass was seen bounding through the flowers, 
 and the panting animal once more ensconced 
 himself by his mistress's side. 
 
 "I was very fond of Mr. Burnett," she said, 
 "but I could not marry him. I could not 
 marry any man I did not love." 
 
 " And because you refused to marry him, 
 he did not mention you in his will. I never 
 heard of such selfishness before ! " 
 
 " Men are always selfish," she said senten- 
 tiously. " But it really does not matter ; 
 things are just the same ; he hasnt succeeded 
 in altering anything at least, not for the 
 worse. We shall get on very well together." 
 
 The conversation paused. Then Emily 
 went on : " You won't tell any one I told 
 you ? I only told you because I did not want 
 you to think me selfish. I was afraid that 
 after the foolish way I behaved last night you 
 might think I hated you. Indeed, I do not. 
 Perhaps everything has happened for the best. 
 I was very fond of the old man. I gave 
 him my whole heart ; no father ever had a 
 daughter more attached ; but I could not 
 marry him. And it was the remembrance
 
 116 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 of my love for him that made me burst out 
 crying. I do not think I realized until I saw 
 you, how cruelly I had been treated. But 
 you won't tell any one? You won't tell Mrs. 
 Bentley ? She knows, of course ; but do not 
 tell her that I told you. I do not care that 
 my feelings should be made a subject of dis- 
 cussion. You promise me ? " 
 
 " I promise you." 
 
 They now reached the tennis lawn. The 
 gong sounded, and Emily said : " That is 
 lunch, and we shall find Julia waiting for us 
 in the dining-room." It was as she said. 
 Mrs. Bentley was standing by the sideboard, 
 her basket of keys in her hand ; she had not 
 quite finished her housekeeping, and was 
 giving some last instructions to the butler. 
 Hubert noticed that the place at the head of 
 the table was for him, and he sat down a little 
 embarrassed to carve a chicken. So much 
 home after so many years of homelessness 
 seemed strange. 
 
 "Thank you, I'll take a wing." 
 
 "May I help you?" 
 
 "Thank you, Til help myself." 
 
 He gave an animated account of their morn- 
 ing walk, interspersing it with playful allu-
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 117 
 
 sions to Don's temptations among the rabbits, 
 and how perfectly incapable he had shown 
 himself of resisting any. Emily, too, was full 
 of conversation and laughter ; and Mrs. Bent- 
 ley thought: "They have settled their mone- 
 tary difficulties ; I wonder if any other will 
 arise ? " 
 
 At that moment Hubert looked at Mrs. 
 Bentley, and, remembering their conversation 
 of the previous evening, he desired to tell 
 her how very charming he had found Emily, 
 how well they had got on together. And 
 thinking she was going to pass through the 
 window and on to the terrace, Hubert moved 
 to follow her. But, mentioning that she had 
 some orders to give to the servants, she left 
 the room by the farther door. 
 
 He had said all he had to say to Emily, 
 and bethought himself of a walk with the 
 gamekeeper. As he made inquiries of the 
 butler, Emily said 'they were going for a drive 
 going to have tea with some neighbors : 
 would he not come to accompany them ? It 
 was impossible to refuse, and a few minutes 
 after the pony-chaise came round.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE next day Hubert went out for a long 
 walk with the gamekeeper, which he enjoyed 
 immensely. The day after Emily had a ten- 
 nis party, and Hubert was introduced to the 
 neighborhood that is to say, to the parson 
 and his wife, the general on half-pay, to the 
 general's various daughters, and to a couple 
 of county families. On the third day, as soon 
 as breakfast was over, he introduced the sub- 
 ject of his departure. Julia waited, but as 
 Emily did not speak, she said : " We thought 
 you liked the country better than town." 
 
 "Soldo, but 
 
 " He's tired of us, and we had better leave," 
 Emily said, abruptly. 
 
 Hubert started a little ; he looked appeal- 
 ingly at Julia, and seeing the look of genuine 
 pain upon his face, she took pity on him. 
 " You should not speak like that, Emily dear ; 
 I can see that you pain Mr. Price very much." 
 
 "I hope, Emily, that you will stay here as 
 long as you like," he said, in a low, gentle
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 119 
 
 voice ; " as long as it is convenient and agree- 
 able to you." 
 
 " We cannot stay here without you," Emily 
 replied ; " we are your guests." 
 
 "And," said Julia, smiling, "if there are 
 guests, there must be a host. But if you 
 have business in London, of course you must 
 
 go." 
 
 "I was not thinking of myself," said Hu- 
 bert, " but of you ladies. I was afraid that 
 you were already tired of me ; that you might 
 like to be left alone ; that you had business, 
 preparations. I dare say I was all wrong ; 
 but if Emily knew " 
 
 " I'm sorry, Hubert ; I did not mean to of- 
 fend you. I'm very unlucky. You'll forgive 
 me." 
 
 " I've nothing to forgive ; I only hope that 
 you'll never think again that I want to get 
 rid of you. I hope that you'll stop at Ash- 
 wood as long as ever it suits you to do so. I 
 don't see how I can say more." 
 
 "I like to stop here as long as you are 
 here," Emily said, in a low voice. " That is 
 all I meant." 
 
 " Then we're all of one mind. I don't want 
 to go back to London. If you don't find
 
 120 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 me in your way, I shall be delighted to 
 stay." 
 
 " Of course," said Julia, " we poor country 
 folk can hardly hope to amuse you." 
 
 " I don't know about that ! " exclaimed 
 Emily. " Where would he find any one to 
 play and sing to him in the evenings as you 
 can?" 
 
 The conversation paused, and all were hap- 
 pier that morning, though none knew why. 
 Days passed, desultory and sweet, and all who 
 came to Ashwood noticed Emily's joy joy 
 that was a little febrile twin-sister to her 
 grief. And day after day she grew more 
 joyous, brightening like a flower, and as a 
 flower's life hangs on its petals, so did her life 
 seem hung on her lips and hair. Hubert 
 watched her come and go with fluttering words 
 and steps, making life gracious about him. He 
 was indolent, haunting* the terraces with books 
 taken from the library ; and with a pile of 
 books about him, he lay in a long cane chair 
 under the trees ; then the book would drop 
 on his knees, and blowing smoke in culling 
 wreaths, he lost himself in dramatic medita- 
 tions. It was pleasant to see that Emily had 
 grown innocently, childishly fond of her
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 121 
 
 cousin, and her fondness expressed itself in 
 a number of pretty ways. " Now, Hubert, 
 Hubert, get out of my way," she would say, 
 feigning a charming petulance ; or she would 
 come and drag him out of his chair, saying : 
 "Come, Hubert, I can't allow you to lie there 
 any longer ; I have to go to South Water, and 
 want you to come with me." 
 
 And walking together, they seemed like an 
 Italian gray hound and a tall, shaggy setter. 
 
 A cloud only appeared on Emily's face 
 when Julia spoke of their departure. Julia 
 had proposed that they should leave at the 
 end of the month, and Emily had consented 
 to this arrangement. The end of the month 
 had appeared to her indefinitely distant, but 
 three weeks of the subscribed time had passed, 
 and signs of departure had become more nu- 
 merous and more peremptory. Allusion had 
 been made to the laundress, and Julia had 
 asked Emily if she could get all her things 
 into a single box; if not, they would have to 
 send to Brighton for another. Emily had no 
 notion of what her box would hold, and she 
 showed little disposition to count her dresses 
 or put her linen in order. She seemed en- 
 tirely taken up thinking what books, what
 
 122 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 pictures, what china she could take away. 
 She would like to have this bookcase, and 
 might she not take the wardrobe from her 
 own room? and she had known the clock all 
 her life, and it did seem so hard to part with 
 it 
 
 "My dear girl, all these things belong to 
 Mr. Price ; you really cannot take them away 
 without asking him." 
 
 "But he won't refuse; he'll let me have 
 anything I like." 
 
 " He can't very well refuse, so I think it 
 would be nicer on your part not to ask for 
 anything." 
 
 " I must have some of these things : I want 
 to make the house we are going to live in, 
 in London, look as much like Ashwood as 
 possible." 
 
 " You'd like to take the whole house with 
 you if you could." 
 
 " Yes, I think I should." And Emily turned 
 and looked vaguely up and down the passage. 
 " I wonder if he'd give me the picture of the 
 windmill." 
 
 " The landing would look very bare with- 
 out it." 
 
 " It would indeed, and when we came down
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 123 
 
 here on a visit, for I suppose we shall come 
 down here sometimes on visits, I should miss 
 the picture dreadfully, so I don't think I'll ask 
 him for it But I must take some pictures 
 away with me. There are a lot of old things 
 in the lumber room at the top of the house, 
 that no one knows anything about. I think 
 I'll ask him to let me have them. I'll take 
 him for a good long ramble through the house. 
 He hasn't seen any of it yet, except just the 
 rooms we live in down-stairs." 
 
 Emily went straight to Hubert. He was 
 lying in the long wicker chair, his straw hat 
 drawn over his eyes, for the sun was finding 
 its sharp, white way through the leaves of the 
 beeches. 
 
 " Now, Hubert, I want you. Are you 
 asleep ? " 
 
 " Asleep ! No, I was only thinking." He 
 threw his legs over the edge of the low chair 
 and stood up. The thick tawny hair flamed 
 up, and the necktie of pale red silk and the 
 canvas shoes seemed strangely a part of him, 
 and the rough gray clothes lent a special 
 attractiveness. 
 
 " I want you, Hubert," the young girl said. 
 She hesitated a moment, and then continued :
 
 124 VATN FORTUNE 
 
 " If I tell you what I want, you won't refuse 
 me, will you ? " 
 
 "No," he said smilingly; "I don't think I 
 shall." 
 
 "Are you sure?" she said, looking at him 
 enigmatically. Then in a lighter tone: "I 
 want you to give me a lot of things oh, not 
 a great many, nothing very valuable, but 
 
 "But what, Emily? . . . You can have 
 anything you want." 
 
 " Well, we shall see. You must come with 
 me; I must show you what I sha'n't want 
 them unless you like to give them. Come 
 along. Oh, you must come. I should not 
 care about them unless you came with me, 
 and let me point them out" She passed her 
 little hand into the arm of his rough coat, and 
 led him towards the house. " You know 
 nothing of your own house, so before I go I 
 intend to show you all over it. You have no 
 idea what a funny old place it is up-stairs 
 endless old lumber rooms which you would 
 never think of going into if I didn't take you. 
 When I was a little girl I wasn't often allowed 
 down-stairs : the top of the house still seems to 
 me more real than any other part." Throwing 
 open a door at the head of the stairs, she said :
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 125 
 
 " This used to be my nursery. It is all bare and 
 deserted now, but I remember it quite differ- 
 ent. I used to spend hours looking out of 
 that window. From it you can see all over 
 the park, and the park used to be my great 
 delight I used to sit there and make reso- 
 lutions that next time I went out I would be 
 braver, and explore the darkest hollows and 
 all queer places full of bushes and tall ferns." 
 "Did you never break your resolutions? " 
 " Sometimes I shrunk back ; I was afraid of 
 meeting fairies or elves. There are glades and 
 hollows that used to seem very wonderful. 
 And it still seems very wonderful, only not 
 quite in the same way. Doesn't the world 
 seem very wonderful to you? I'm always 
 wondering at things. But I know I'm only 
 a silly little girl, and yet I like to talk to you 
 about my fancies. Down there in the beech 
 wood there is a beautiful glade. I loved to 
 play there better than anywhere else. I used 
 to catch butterflies there ; it was very cruel, I 
 know, bat I was making a collection then." 
 " You are full of dreams, Emily." 
 " Yes, I suppose I am. Everything is 
 pleasant and happy in dreams. I love dream- 
 ing. They thought I'd never learn to read j
 
 126 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 but it wasn't because I was stupid, but be- 
 cause I wouldn't study. I'd put my hands 
 to my head, and, looking at the book, which 
 I didn't see, I'd think of all sorts of things, 
 imagine myself a fairy princess." 
 
 " And it was in this room that you dreamed 
 all those dreams ? " 
 
 " Yes, in this dear old room. You see that 
 picture : that is one of the things I intended 
 to ask you to give me." 
 
 " What ? That old, dilapidated print ? " 
 
 "You mustn't abuse my picture. I used to 
 spend hours wondering if those horsemen 
 galloping so madly through the wood were 
 robbers, and if they had robbed the castle 
 shown between the trees. I used to wonder 
 if they would succeed in escaping. They 
 wouldn't gallop their horses like that unless 
 they were being pursued. . . . Can I have 
 the picture ? " 
 
 " Of course you can. Is that that is not 
 all you are going to ask me for ? " 
 
 " I did think of asking you for a few more 
 things. Do you mind? " 
 
 " No, not the least The more you ask for, 
 the more I shall be pleased." 
 
 "Then you must come down-stairs."
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 127 
 
 They went down to the next landing. 
 Emily stopped before a bed-room, and, look- 
 ing at Hubert shyly and interrogatively, she 
 said: 
 
 " This is my room. I don't know if it is 
 in a fit state to show you. I'm not a very 
 tidy girl. I'll look first." 
 
 " Yes, it will do," she said, drawing back. 
 "You can look in. I want you to give me 
 that wardrobe. It isn't a very handsome one, 
 but I've used it ever since I was a little girl ; 
 it has a hollow top, and I used to hide things 
 there. Do you think you can spare it? " 
 
 "Yes, I think I can," he said, smiling. 
 
 Then she led him up-stairs through the old 
 lumber rooms, picking out here and there some 
 generally broken and always worthless piece 
 of furniture, pleading for it timidly, and 
 strangely delighted when he nodded, granting 
 her every request. She asked him to pull 
 out what she had chosen from the debris, and 
 a curious collection they made in the passage 
 dim and worm-eaten pictures, small book- 
 cases, broken vases which she proposed mend- 
 ing. 
 
 Hubert wiped the dust from his hands and 
 coat sleeves.
 
 128 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 " What a lot of things you have given me ! 
 Now we shall be able to get on nicely with 
 our furnishing." 
 
 "What furnishing?" 
 
 " The furnishing of the little house in Lon- 
 don where Julia and I are going to live. You 
 said you intended to add a hundred a year to 
 the three hundred a year which Mr. Burnett 
 should have left me; I don't see why you 
 should do such a thing, but if you do we shall 
 have four hundred a year to live upon. Julia 
 says that we shall then be able to afford to 
 give fifty pounds a year for a house. We 
 can get a very nice little house, she says, for 
 that of course, in one of the suburbs. The 
 great expense will be the furnishing ; we are 
 going to do it on the hire system. I dare say 
 one can get very nice things in that way, 
 but I do want to make the place look a little 
 like Ashwood ; that is why I'rn asking you for 
 these things. I was always fond of playing 
 in these old lumber rooms, and these dim old 
 pictures, which I don't think any one knows 
 anything of except myself, will remind me 
 of Ashwood. They will look very well, in- 
 deed, hanging round our little dining-room. 
 You are sure you don't want them, do you ? "
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 129 
 
 "No, I won't want them. I'm only too 
 pleased to be able to give them to you." 
 
 " You are very good, indeed you are. Look 
 at these old haymakers ; I never saw but one 
 little corner of this picture before ; it was 
 stowed away behind a lot of lumber, and I 
 hadn't the strength to pull it out . . . I'm 
 afraid you've got yourself rather dusty." 
 
 " Oh, no ; it will brush off." 
 
 " I shall hang this picture over the fire- 
 place; it will look very well there. I dare 
 say you don't see anything in it, but I'd 
 sooner have these pictures than those down- 
 stairs. I love the picture of the windmill on 
 the first landing " 
 
 " Then why not have it? I'll have it taken 
 down at once." 
 
 " No, I could not think of taking it. How 
 would the landing look without it ? I should 
 miss it dreadfully when I came here for I 
 dare say you will ask us to visit you occa- 
 sionally, when you are lonely, won't you ? " 
 
 " My dear Emily, whenever you like, I 
 hope you will come here." 
 
 "And you will come and stay with us in 
 London? Your room will be always ready ; 
 I'll look after that We shall feel very 
 9
 
 130 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 offended, indeed, if you ever think of going 
 to an hotel. Of course, you mustn't expect 
 much ; we shall only be able to keep one 
 servant, but we shall try to make you com- 
 fortable, and, when you come, you'll take me 
 to the theatres, to see one of your own plays." 
 
 " If my play's being played, certainly. But 
 would it be right for me to pay you visits in 
 London ? " 
 
 " They would be very wicked people indeed 
 who saw anything wrong in it; you are my 
 cousin. But why do you say such things? 
 You destroy all my pleasure, and I was so 
 happy just now." 
 
 "I'm afraid, Emily, your happiness hangs 
 on a very slender thread." 
 
 She looked at him inquiringly, but feeling 
 that it would be unwise to attempt an expla- 
 nation, he said in a different tone: 
 
 " But, Emily, if you love Ash wood so well, 
 why do you go away ? " 
 
 " Why do I go away ! We have been here 
 now some time. ... I can't live here al- 
 ways." 
 
 " Why not? Why not let things go on just 
 as they are ? " 
 
 " And live here with you, I and Julia? "
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 "Yes; why not?" 
 
 "We should bore you; you want to write 
 your plays, you'd get tired of me." 
 
 " Your being here would not prevent my 
 writing my plays. I have been thinking all 
 the while of asking you to remain, but was 
 afraid you would not care to live here." 
 
 " Not care to live here ! But you'll get 
 tired of us ; we might quarrel." 
 
 " No, we shall never quarrel. You will be 
 doing me a great favor by remaining. Just 
 fancy living alone in this great house, not a 
 soul to speak to all day. I'm sure I should 
 end by going out and hanging myself on one 
 of those trees." 
 
 " You wouldn't do that, would you ? " 
 
 Hubert laughed. " You and Mrs. Bentley 
 will be doing me a great favor by remaining. 
 If you go away I shall be robbed right and 
 left, the gardens will go to rack and ruin, and 
 when you come down here you won't know 
 the place, and then, perhaps, we shall quar- 
 rel." 
 
 "I shouldn't like Ash wood to go to rack 
 and ruin and my poor flowers ! And I'm 
 sure you'd forget to feed the swans. If you 
 did that, I could not forgive you."
 
 132 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 " Well, let these grave considerations decide 
 you to remain." 
 
 " Are you really serious ? " 
 
 " I never was more serious in my life." 
 
 " Well, then, may I run and tell Julia ? " 
 
 " Certainly, and I'll no, I won't. I'll look 
 up the housemaids and tell them to restore this 
 interesting collection of antiquities to their 
 original dust." 
 
 It took some time to find the housemaids, 
 but having at length discovered them, Hubert 
 gave his orders, and then he went in search of 
 Mrs. Bentley. There was no reason why he 
 should see her at once, but the matter inter- 
 ested him, and he thought he'd like to have 
 it settled. He came across her unexpectedly, 
 as he was coming in the back way from the 
 garden. 
 
 " I've been looking for you everywhere, 
 Mrs. Bentley." 
 
 " And I've been looking everywhere for 
 you, Mr. Price." 
 
 " Well, I'm glad we have met at last. Of 
 course you know what I have to say to you? 
 Emily has told you ? " 
 
 " Yes, she has told me." 
 
 " Then you have no objection to offer ? "
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 133 
 
 " None whatever. How could I have ? " 
 
 "Then everything is settled. You will 
 continue to act as her chaperon, and perhaps 
 you will be so kind as to look after my 
 house? I shall be deeply grateful to you if 
 you will." 
 
 "I'll do my best to keep things in order. 
 For the last three weeks I have not interfered 
 I was your guest But now that you place 
 me in authority I will look into things again. 
 I'll try, of course, to save you as much trouble 
 as possible, but you must understand, at least 
 in a general way, how things have been carried 
 on, and then you. can decide what changes 
 you would like made." 
 
 "Really, Mrs. Bentley, I'm quite satisfied. 
 I have so little taste for accounts. In a few 
 days I intend to go thoroughly into my 
 affairs. I had thought of writing to my 
 solicitor, but 
 
 "I will not trouble you very long. My 
 business with you is not important enough to 
 need the assistance of a solicitor. I merely 
 want to show you what are our household 
 expenses. No; I promise you there shall 
 be no long accounts to go through. You 
 need not look further into things than the
 
 134 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 general accounts for instance, the servants' 
 wages 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Bentley 
 
 " No; you really must know how much we 
 are spending that is to say, if you wish me 
 to continue." 
 
 " But, of course 
 
 "Then, listen. Give me your attention, 
 and in an hour we shall have finished." 
 
 So Hubert had to bend his intelligence 
 upon household economy, and even sanction 
 some cutting down of expenses. He very 
 often said, " Yes quite so ; " but Mrs. Bent- 
 ley was not easily deceived, and she insisted 
 on his understanding the necessity of keeping 
 two under-housemaids. A great deal of fuel 
 had been wasted in the garden, and she had 
 little doubt the coal bill could be reduced. 
 There were the horses, an expensive item, and 
 at least two should be sent away. Hubert 
 wished things to go on without any change 
 at least, for the present and was not prepared 
 to say that a second gamekeeper was not 
 required. Allusion was made to the farm, 
 the number of eggs the bailiff generally sent 
 up, and the income derived from the sale of 
 butter. At last everything seemed settled;
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 135 
 
 but Mrs. Bentley still hesitated, and it was 
 not until Hubert rose that she decided to 
 speak. 
 
 " There is only one thing more I have to 
 trouble you with, and that is myself. You 
 were kind enough to let me remain here as 
 Emily's companion 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Bentley 
 
 "No, no; we must understand one another. 
 I am a distant cousin of the late Mr. Burnett, 
 a connection of yours. My husband died 
 leaving me quite unprovided for " 
 
 " I know, Emily has 
 
 " I really must insist on your hearing me 
 out," she said, smiling. " My husband left 
 me entirely unprovided for ; and, knowing of 
 my circumstances, Mr. Burnett asked me to 
 come and look after his house. I have no 
 means whatever. He allowed me fifty pounds 
 a year." 
 
 "Well, then, I allow you the same. Do 
 not let us talk any more about it. I'm sure I 
 hope you'll be happy here. Anything you 
 want, if you will let Emily know, I shall, I'm 
 sure, be only too glad " 
 
 "It is very kind." 
 
 Their eyes met . . . they looked aside.
 
 136 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 Then, to break an irritating silence, Mrs. 
 Bentley said: "You are satisfie'd, I suppose, 
 at the way things here turned out? I think 
 Emily is. Your generosity has quite won her 
 heart We are only afraid now lest you 
 should not be satisfied." 
 
 " If I should not be satisfied ! I hardly 
 understand." 
 
 " Well, some men might not care to accept 
 the responsibility of looking after two women. 
 Some men are women-haters ; some men 
 would have preferred to live alone." 
 
 " I assure you I'm not a woman-hater ; I 
 have lived too much alone, and grown tired 
 of my own company. I'm sure that so long 
 as you and Emily are free to remain I mean 
 that you will both do me a great favor by 
 remaining at Ashwood. I suppose the time 
 will come when some one will come and take 
 Emily away. It would be selfish, to say I 
 hope that time will never come! " 
 
 Mrs. Bentley looked as if she were going to 
 say something, but she changed her mind. 
 
 " Of course, a pretty girl like that doesn't 
 remain long single. I dare say there's many 
 a young fellow in the neighborhood whose 
 heart is breaking for her."
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 137 
 
 " I don't think we have got SUCQ a thing as 
 a young man in the neighborhood at least, 
 none that Emily would care about" 
 
 ".Well, we must get some whom she will. 
 . . . When I'm a little settled here, we I'll 
 ask some friends. The editor of The Cosmo- 
 politan. I'm longing to ask him here, and 
 he knows every one. I'll ask him to bring 
 down an irresistible young man." 
 
 " I'm afraid you'll find she is difficult to 
 suit" 
 
 " Do you think so? " Hubert wondered if 
 Mrs. Bentley meant that Emily did not wish 
 to marry. Then, speaking suddenly, he said : 
 "I never could understand those who like 
 every woman. It seems to me so necessary 
 to choose, to find exactly the one we love. 
 Then all the others are indifferent to us." 
 
 " I thought men were not like that. I 
 thought that men could like any woman if 
 she were pretty." 
 
 Her voice sank, and she forgot herself in 
 thought Hubert wondered if her experience 
 of men had been a sad one. " One can only 
 speak for one's self," he said. " I could only 
 love one woman." 
 
 She looked at him a little puzzled. Did he
 
 1S8 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 mean that he was by temperament a monog- 
 amist, or that he had chosen and could never 
 choose again? In the silence that settled be- 
 tween them, both wondered how it was that 
 they who three weeks before had met for the 
 first time should be now discussing the most 
 intimate characteristics of each other's souls. 
 Raising her eyes, she examined his pale face 
 lit with gray, quiet eyes. They were not un- 
 like fair Saxon faces, wearing the expression 
 of the country that produced them ; and the 
 nature so plainl}- written on their faces seemed 
 to reach to their souls, and to mould and color 
 their very slightest thought 
 
 At that moment steps were heard in the 
 passage, and the door opened quickly. " Do 
 you not know that lunch is waiting ? What 
 can you have to say to each other all this 
 while?" 
 
 " I was explaining to Mr. Price a number 
 of details connected with the management of 
 the house dry matters of pounds, shillings, 
 and pence business, Emily, which you 
 would, I'm afraid, attend to with even worse 
 grace than he." 
 
 Two days after, he received a visit from the 
 county solicitor, and the business of the estate
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 139 
 
 absorbed the greater portion of his time for at 
 least a fortnight. It was necessary that he 
 should visit his tenants, and hear what each 
 had to say about reduction of rent and the 
 improvements of farm buildings which needed 
 overhauling. 
 
 It was amusing to listen to the questions 
 he put, making the folk smile at the same 
 time betraying a love of the country which 
 they who had seen nothing else could neither 
 feel nor understand His naturalness was very 
 winning ; and the bailiff once said : " That's 
 jest what I likes about he ; he doan't pretent 
 to knaw what he knaws nothing about." This 
 seemed to all an adequate explanation, except, 
 perhaps, the groom, who found it difficult to 
 think much of a gentleman who went for long 
 walks across the downs when there were 
 horses in the stable wanting exercise. 
 
 Coming home in the evening, at the hour 
 when the hind drives the cows from the past- 
 ure to the milking-shed, he experienced a joy 
 of which he was half ashamed, so selfish did 
 it seem ; for his heart exulted when he opened 
 the white gate and looked upon his park. 
 He walked up the drive slowly, thinking of 
 the first time he saw it. The swallows flew
 
 140 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 high, just as now, and all the tranquil beauty 
 of the hour was reflected in the artificial 
 water. In these moments the plausive and 
 wilful sweetness of life possessed him ; and the 
 joy about his heart grew tense indeed when he 
 stopped, alittletired, butso happy, after hislong 
 ramble, and viewed his house in the setting 
 light the long terrace, bright with flowers, 
 and the slender figures of the women walking 
 to and fro, their arms about one another. 
 
 He was, perhaps, a little too conscious of 
 his happiness ; and he feared to do anything 
 that would endanger the pleasure of his 
 present life. It seemed to him like a costly 
 thing which might slip from his hand or be 
 broken ; and day by day he appreciated more 
 and more the delicate comfort of this well- 
 ordered house its brightness, its ample 
 rooms, the charm of space within and with- 
 out, the health of regular and wholesome 
 meals, the presence of these two women, 
 whose first desire was to minister to his least 
 wish or caprice. These, the first spoilings he 
 had received, combined to render him singu- 
 larly happy. Bohemianism, he often thought, 
 had been forced upon him it was not natural 
 to him , and though spiritual belief was dead,
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 141 
 
 he experienced in church a resurrection of 
 influences which misfortune had hypnotized, 
 but which were stirring again into life. He 
 was conscious again of this revival of his 
 early life in the evenings when Mrs. Bentley 
 went to the piano ; and when playing a game 
 of chess or draughts, remembrances of the 
 old Shropshire rectory came back, sudden, dis- 
 tinct, and sweet. In these days the disease 
 of fame and artistic achievement only sang 
 monotonously, plaintively, like the wind in 
 the valleys where the wind never wholly rests. 
 Sometimes, when moved by the novel he 
 was reading, he would discuss its merits and 
 demerits with the two women who sat by him 
 in the quiet of the dim drawing-room, their 
 work on their knees, thinking of him. In the 
 excitement of criticism his thoughts wandered 
 to his own work, and the women's eyes filled 
 with reveries, and their hands folded languidly 
 over their knees. He spoke without emphasis, 
 his words seeming to drop from the thick 
 obsession of his dream. At ten the ladies 
 gathered up their work, bade him good-night; 
 and nightly these good-nights grew tenderer, 
 and nightly they went up-stairs more deeply 
 penetrated with a sense of their happiness.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 HE was strangely happy it was the happi- 
 ness of rest, and the peace he enjoyed was as 
 beautiful as the summer which drowsed in the 
 shady English park, waxing every day to 
 deeper fulness and perfection. He had never 
 known before the charm of ladies' society, 
 and his shyness and unsensual nature, which 
 had alienated him from London women, en- 
 deared him to these quiet country ladies, and 
 gradually he became their idol. When he 
 was not present, they talked of him, and he 
 watched and delighted in the contemplation 
 of their love for one another, which the slight 
 accidents of every hour of their peaceful life 
 revealed. But at heart he was a man's man. 
 He hardly perceived life from a woman's 
 point of view; and in the long evenings 
 which he spent with these women he some- 
 times had to force himself to appear inter- 
 ested in their conversation. He was as far 
 removed from one as from the other. Emily's 
 wil fulness puzzled him, and he did not seem
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 143 
 
 to have anything further to talk about to Mrs. 
 Bentley. 
 
 He missed the bachelor evenings of former 
 days the whiskey and water, the pipes, and 
 the literary discussion ; and as the days went 
 by he began to think of London ; his thoughts 
 turned affectionately towards the friends he 
 had not seen for so long, and at the end of 
 July he announced his intention of running 
 up to town for a few days. So one morning 
 breakfast was hurried through ; Emily was 
 sure there was plenty of time ; Hubert looked 
 at the clock and said he must he off ; Julia 
 ran after him with parcels which he had 
 forgotten ; farewell signs were waved ; the 
 dog-cart passed out of sight, and, after linger- 
 ing a moment, the women returned to the 
 drawing-room thoughtfully. 
 
 " I wonder if he'll catch the train," said 
 Emily, without taking her face from the 
 window. 
 
 " I hope so ; it will be very tiresome for him 
 if he has to come back. There isn't another 
 train before three o'clock." 
 
 "If he missed this train he wouldn't go 
 until to-morrow morning. ... I wonder 
 how long he'll stay away. Supposing some-
 
 144 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 thing happened and he never came back." 
 Emily turned round and looked at Julia in 
 dreamy wonderment 
 
 "Not come back at all? What nonsense 
 you are talking, Emily. He won't be away 
 more than a fortnight or three weeks." 
 
 "Three weeks! that seems a very long 
 while. How shall we get through our even- 
 ings?" 
 
 Emily had again turned towards the win- 
 dow. Julia did not trouble to reply. She 
 smiled a little, as she paused on the thresh- 
 old, for she remembered that no more than 
 a few weeks ago Emily had addressed to her 
 passionate speeches declaring her to be her 
 only friend, and that they would like to live 
 together, content in each other's companion- 
 ship, always ignoring the rest of the world. 
 Although she had not mistaken these speeches 
 for anything more than the nervous passion 
 of a moment, the suddenness of the recantation 
 surprised her a little. Three or four days 
 after, the girl was in a different mood, and 
 when they came into the drawing-room after 
 dinner she threw her arms about Julia's neck, 
 saying: "Isn't this like old times? Here we 
 are living all alone together, and I'm not
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 145 
 
 boring myself a bit I never shall have 
 another friend like you, Julia." 
 
 " But you'll be very glad when Hubert 
 comes back." 
 
 "There's no harm in that, is there? I 
 should be very ungrateful if I wasn't. Think 
 how good he has been to us. ... I'm afraid 
 you don't like him, Julia." 
 
 " Oh, yes, I do, Emily." 
 
 "Not so much as I do." And raising her- 
 self she was sitting on Julia's knees Emily 
 looked at Julia. 
 
 " Perhaps not," Julia replied, smiling ; 
 "but then I never hated him as much as you 
 did." 
 
 A cloud came over Emily's face. " I did 
 hate him, didn't I? You remember that first 
 evening? You remember when you came up- 
 stairs and found me trembling in the passage 
 I was afraid to go to bed. ... I begged 
 you to allow me to sleep with you. You 
 remember how we listened for his footstep in 
 the passage, as he went up to bed, and how I 
 clung to you. Then the dreams of that night. 
 I never told you what my dreams were, but 
 you remember how I woke up with a cry, and 
 you asked me what was the matter? " 
 10
 
 146 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 " Yes, I remember." 
 
 " I dreamt I was with him in a garden, and 
 was trying to get away ; but he held me by a 
 single hair, and the hair would not break. 
 How absurd dreams are! And the garden 
 was full of flowers, but every time I tried to 
 gather them, he pulled me back by that 
 single hair. I don't remember any more, only 
 something about running wildly away from 
 him, and losing myself in a dark forest, and 
 there the ground was soft like a bog, and it 
 seemed as if I were going to be swallowed up 
 every moment. It was a terrible sensation. 
 All of a sudden I woke with a cry. The room, 
 was gray with-dawn, and you said : ' Emily 
 dear, what have you been dreaming to cry out 
 like that ? ' I was too tired and frightened to 
 tell you much about my dream, and next 
 morning I had forgotten it. I did not re- 
 member it for a long time after, but all 
 the same some of it came true. Don't you re- 
 member how I met Hubert next morning on 
 the lawn? We went into the garden and 
 spent the best part of the morning walking 
 about the lake.'. . . I don't know if I told 
 you I ran away when I heard him coming, 
 and should have got away had it not been for
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 147 
 
 this tiresome dog. He called after me, using 
 my Christian name. I was so angry I think I 
 hated him then more than ever. We walked 
 a little way, and the next thing I remember was 
 thinking how nice he was. I don't know how 
 it all happened. Now I think of it, it seems 
 like magic. It was the day that my old 
 donkey ran away with the mowing machine 
 and broke the flower vase, the dear old thing; 
 we had a long talk about 'Jack.' And then 
 I took Hubert into the garden and showed 
 him the flowers. I don't think he cares much 
 about flowers ; he pretended, but I could see it 
 was only to please me. Then I knew that 
 he liked me, for when I told him I was going 
 to feed the swans he said he loved swans and 
 begged to be allowed to come too. I don't 
 think a man would say that if he didn't like 
 you, do you ? " 
 
 Emily's mind seemed to contain nothing 
 but memories of Hubert What he had said 
 on this occasion, how he had looked at her on 
 another. A wheel of fortune painted with 
 the trivial and ordinary events of three weeks 
 in a country house ! And though the same 
 events came up again and again, Emily never 
 wearied, for every turn brought up a winning
 
 148 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 number. The conversation paused, Emily 
 sunned herself in the enchantment of recol- 
 lection, until at last breaking forth again, she 
 said: 
 
 "Have you noticed how Ethel Eastwick 
 goes after him? And the odd part of it is 
 that she can't see that he dislikes her. He 
 thinks nothing of her singing ; he remained 
 talking to me in the conservatory the whole 
 time. I asked him to come into the drawing- 
 room, but he pretended to misunderstand me, 
 and asked me if I felt a draught. He said : 
 'Let me get you a shawl.' I said : 'I assure 
 you, Hubert, I don't feel any draught.' But 
 he would not believe me, and said he could not 
 allow me to sit there without something on 
 my shoulders. I begged of him not to move, 
 for I knew that Ethel would never forgive 
 me if I interrupted her singing ; but he said 
 he could get me a wrap without interrupting 
 any one. He opened the conservatory door, 
 ran across the lawn round to the front door, 
 and came back with what do you think? 
 With two wraps instead of one; one was 
 mine, and the other belonged to I don't know 
 who it belonged to. So I said: 'Oh, what 
 ever shall we do? I cannot let you go back
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 149 
 
 again. If any one was to come in and find 
 me alone, whatever would they think ! ' Hu- 
 bert said : ' Will you come with me ? A walk 
 in the garden will be pleasanter than sitting 
 in the conservatory.' I didn't like going at 
 first, but I thought there couldn't be much 
 harm." 
 
 The conversation paused, and, tremulous 
 with desire to tell, the girl asked herself if 
 she should tell the story of her moonlight 
 walk. But Julia expressed no curiosity on 
 the point, and in the silence of the drawing- 
 room, the girl re-lived in feverish imagination 
 that hour of enchanted life, seeing as in the 
 mirror of her dream all the witchery of the 
 garden's light and shade, and all the glittering 
 slopes of the skies. She saw again the noc- 
 turnal garden, with here and there a tall lily 
 sleeping in the stream of blue light that flowed 
 down from the moon that soared above the 
 tiled house; the piano tinkled behind the pale 
 yellow windows, and as they passed some- 
 times a petal fell from an exhausted rose. 
 They wandered from sward to sward, through 
 the shadowy paths that wound about that 
 nocturnal garden, until, at the end of their 
 path, out of the waning skies there appeared
 
 150 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 a star inexpressibly beautiful. It lay low 
 down in the skies at the end of the vista, 
 sparkling like a diamond just fallen from the 
 forehead of some great god. Hubert and 
 Emily stood in a solitary dell ; Emily was 
 frightened, so awful did the night seem, and 
 when they came to a place where the gravel 
 path was strange with the shadows falling 
 from the branches of a decayed tree, the girl 
 grew frightened and begged Hubert to take 
 her back. But he laughed her out of her 
 fears ; he told her that the star was Astarte ; 
 he tempted her out of her scruples, and in- 
 duced her to walk across the little bridge. 
 And standing by the wicket, they talked about 
 the blazing star and many other things. She 
 did not know how long they talked, but she 
 remembered that he had repeated part of a 
 sad poem, beautiful to her, though she did 
 not understand it. But with her face raised 
 to his, her eyes shining in the darkness, she 
 had listened to the explanation, which had 
 seemed more beautiful than the poem. And 
 as she now sat with Julia in the old, faded 
 drawing-room, she thought of the lovers who 
 had been led by that very star through lotag, 
 hollow .-woods, till they were stopped by the
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 151 
 
 door of a tomb, on which was written the 
 name of the dead sweetheart the girl whose 
 body he had brought down by night and laid 
 there, in the month of October, only a year 
 ago. It seemed to Emily very terrible and' 
 very wonderful, and she experienced through- 
 out her numbed sense a strange, thrilling 
 pain, akin to joy, and she sat, her little, fragile 
 form lost in the arm-chair, her great eyes fixed 
 in ecstasy, seeing still the dark garden with 
 the great star risen like a phantom above the 
 trees. That evening had been to her a wonder 
 and an enchantment, and her pausing thoughts 
 dwelt on the moment when the distant sound 
 of a bell reached their ears, and the bell came 
 nearer, clanging fiercely in the sonorous garden. 
 Then they saw a light some one had come 
 for them with a lantern a joke, a suitable 
 pleasantry, and amid joyous laughter, watch- 
 ing the setting moon, they had gone back to 
 the tiled house, where dancers still passed the 
 white-curtained windows. Hubert had sat by 
 her at supper, serving her with meat and 
 drink. In the sway of memory she trembled 
 and started, looking in the great arm-chair 
 like a little bird that the moon keeps awake 
 in its soft nest. She no longer wished to tell
 
 152 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 Julia of that night in the garden ; her sensa- 
 tion of it lay far beyond words ; it was her 
 secret, and it shone through her dreamy youth 
 even as the star had shone through the heav- 
 "ens that night. Suddenly she said : 
 
 " I wonder what Hubert is doing in Lon- 
 don ? I wonder where he is now ? " 
 
 " Now ? It is just nine. I suppose he's in 
 some theatre." 
 
 " I suppose he goes a great deal to the the- 
 atre. I wonder who he goes with. He has 
 lots of friends in London actresses, I suppose ; 
 he knows them who play in his plays. He 
 dines at his club " 
 
 " Or at a restaurant." 
 
 " I wonder what a restaurant is like ; ladies 
 dine at restaurants, don^t they ? " 
 
 As Julia was about to make reply, the ser- 
 vant brought her a letter. She opened the 
 envelope, and took out a long, closely-written 
 letter; she turned it over to see the signa- 
 ture, and then looking toward Emily, she said, 
 with a pleasant smile : 
 
 " Now I shall be able to answer your ques- 
 tions better ; this letter is from Mr. Price." 
 
 " Oh, what does he say? Read it." 
 
 " Wait a moment, let me glance through it
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 153 
 
 first ; it is very difficult to read." A few mo- 
 ments after, Julia said : " There's not much 
 that would interest you in the letter, Emily ; 
 it is all about his play. He says he would 
 have written before if he had not been so busy 
 looking out for a theatre, and engaging actors 
 and actresses. He hopes to start rehearsing 
 next week. 
 
 " ' 1 say 1 hope, because there are still some parts of 
 the play which do not satisfy me, particularly the third 
 act. I intend to work steadily on the play till next 
 Thursday, five or six hours every day ; I am in perfect 
 health and spirits, and ought to be able to get the thing 
 right. Should I fail to satisfy myself, or should any 
 further faults appear when we begin to rehearse the 
 piece, I shall dismiss my people, pack up my traps, and 
 return to Ashwood. There I shall have quiet ; here, 
 people are continually knocking at my door, and I can- 
 not deny my friends the pleasure of seeing me, if that 
 is a pleasure. But at Ashwood, as I say, I shall be sure 
 of quiet, and can easily finish the play this autumn, and 
 February is a better time than September to produce a 
 play.' 
 
 "Then he goes on," said Julia, "to explain 
 the alterations he contemplates making. 
 There's no use reading you all that." 
 
 " I suppose you think I should not under- 
 stand."
 
 164 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 " My dear Emily, if you want to read the 
 letter, there it is." 
 
 " I don't want to see your letter." 
 
 " What do you mean, Emily ? " 
 
 " Nothing, only I think it rather strange 
 that he didn't write to me." 
 
 Some days after, Emily took up the book 
 that Julia had laid down. " ' Shakespeare's 
 Plays.' I suppose you are reading them so 
 that you'll be able to talk to him better." 
 
 "I never thought of such a thing, Emily." 
 At the end of a long silence Emily said : 
 
 "Do you think clever men like clever 
 women ? " 
 
 " I don't know. Some say they do, some 
 say they don't I believe that really clever 
 men, men of genius, don't." 
 
 u I wonder if Hubert is a man of genius. 
 What do you think ? " 
 
 " I really am not capable of expressing an 
 opinion on the matter." 
 
 Another week passed away, and Emily 
 began to assume an air of languor and timid 
 yearning. One day she said : 
 
 "I wonder he doesn't write. He hasn't 
 answered my letter yet. Has be answered 
 yours ? "
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 155 
 
 " He has not written to me again. He 
 hasn't time for letter-writing. He is working 
 night and day at his play." 
 
 "I suppose he'd never think of coming 
 down by the morning train. He'd be sure to 
 come by the five o'clock." 
 
 " He won't come without writing. He'd 
 be sure to write for the dog-cart." 
 
 " I suppose so. There's no use in looking 
 out for him." 
 
 But, notwithstanding her certitude on the 
 point, Emily could not help choosing five 
 o'clock as the time for a walk, and Julia 
 noticed that the girl's feet seemed to turn 
 instinctively towards the lodge. Often she 
 would leave the flowers she was tending on 
 the terrace, and stand looking through the 
 dim, sun-smitten landscape toward the red- 
 brown spot which was South Water, in the 
 middle of the long plain.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 ONE day a short letter came from Hubert, 
 asking Mrs. Bentley to send the dog-cart to 
 the station to fetch him. He had decided to 
 come home at once, and postpone the produc- 
 tion of his play till the coming spring. 
 
 Every rehearsal had revealed new and 
 serious faults of construction. These he had 
 attempted to remove when he went home in 
 the evening, but though he often worked till 
 daybreak, he did not achieve much. The 
 very knowledge that he must come to rehearsal 
 with the rewritten scene seemed to produce 
 in hirn a sort of mental paralysis, and, strik- 
 ing the table with his fist, he would get up, 
 and a thought would cross his mind of how 
 he might escape from this torture. After one 
 terrible night, in which he feared his brain 
 was really giving way, he went down to .the 
 theatre and dismissed the company, for he 
 had resolved to return to Ashwood and spend 
 another autumn and another winter rewriting 
 "The Gipsy." If it did not come right then,
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 157 
 
 he would bother no more about it. Why 
 should he? There was so much else in life 
 besides literature. He had plenty of money, 
 and was determined in any case to enjoy him- 
 self. So did his thoughts run as he leaned 
 back on the cushions of a first-class carriage, 
 glancing casually through the evening paper. 
 Presently his eye was caught by a paragraph 
 narrating an odd calamity which had over- 
 taken a scene carpenter, an honest, respectable, 
 sober, hard-working man, who had fulfilled 
 all social obligations as perfectly as the most 
 exacting could desire, until the day he con- 
 ceived the idea of a machine for the better 
 exhibition of advertisements on the hoardings. 
 His system was based on the roller towel. 
 The roller was moved by clockwork, and the 
 advertisements went round like the towel. 
 At first he spent his spare time and his spare 
 money upon it, but as the hobby took posses- 
 sion of him, he devoted all his time and all 
 his money to it ; then he pawned his clothes, 
 and then he raised money on the furniture ; 
 the brokers came in, and finally the poor 
 fellow was taken to a lunatic asylum, and his 
 wife and family were thrown on the parish. 
 The story impressed Hubert strangely. He
 
 158 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 saw an analogy between himself and the crazy 
 inventor, and he asked himself if he would go 
 on rewriting " The Gipsy " until he went out 
 of his mind. " Even if I do," he thought, " I 
 can hurt no one but myself. No one else is 
 dependent on me ; my hobby can hurt no pne 
 but myself." These forebodings passed away, 
 and his mind filled up with schemes of work. 
 He knew exactly what he wanted to do, and 
 he looked forward to doing it. He wanted 
 quiet, he wanted long days alone with himself. 
 Such were his thoughts in the dog-cart as he 
 drove home, and it was therefore vaguely 
 unpleasant to him to meet the two ladies 
 waiting for him at the lodge gate. Their 
 smiles of welcome irritated him; he longed 
 for the solitude of his study, the companion- 
 ship of his work ; and instead he had to sit 
 with them in the drawing-room, and tell 
 them how he liked London, what he had done 
 there, whom he had seen there, and why he had 
 been unable to finish his play to his satisfac- 
 tion. 
 
 In the morning Emily or Mrs. Bentley was 
 generally about to pour out his coffee for him 
 and keep him company. One day Hubert 
 noticed that it was no longer Mrs. Bentley but
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 159 
 
 Emily who met him i n the passage and followed 
 him into the dining-room. And while he was 
 eating she sat with her feet on the fender, talk- 
 ing of some girls in the neighborhood their 
 jealousies, and how Edith Eastwick could not 
 think of anything for herself, but always 
 copied her dresses. Dandy drowsed at her 
 feet, and very often she would take him 
 to the window and make him go through 
 all his tricks, calling on Hubert to admire 
 him. 
 
 She had a knack of monopolizing Hubert, 
 and since his return from London her desire 
 to do so had become almost a determination. 
 Hubert showed no disinclination, and after 
 breakfast they were to be seen together in the 
 gardens. Hubert was a great catch, and there 
 were other young ladies eager to be agreeable 
 to him ; but he did not seem to desire flirta- 
 tion with any. So they came to speak of him 
 as a very clever man, no doubt ; but as they 
 knew nothing about plays, he very^ probably 
 did not care to talk to them. Hubert was 
 not attractive in general society, and he would 
 soon have failed to interest them at all had it 
 not been for Emily. She was proud of her 
 influence over him, and for the first time
 
 160 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 showed a desire to go into society. Day by 
 day her conversation turned more and more 
 on tennis parties, and she even spoke about a 
 ball. He consented to take her ; and he had 
 to dance with her, and she refused nearly 
 every one, saying she was tired, leading Hu- 
 bert away for long conversations in the gal- 
 leries and on the staircases. Hubert had pos- 
 itively nothing to say to her ; but she seemed 
 quite happy as long as she was with him. 
 And as they drove through the dawn Emily 
 chattered of a hundred trifles what Edith 
 had said, what Mabel wore, of the possibility 
 of a marriage, and the arrival of a detachment 
 of some cavalry regiment. Hubert found it 
 hard to affect interest in these conversations. 
 His brain was weary with waltz tunes, the 
 shape of shoulders, and the glare and rustle 
 of silk; but as she chattered, rubbing the 
 misted windows from time to time, so as to 
 determine how far they were from home, he 
 wondered if he should ever marry, and half 
 playfully he thought of her as his wife. He 
 allowed vague dreams to linger dreams of 
 Italy, pictures, terraces, and wonderful moon- 
 lit nights. He was the hero of his imagin- 
 ings ; and his companion, a pale, translucid
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 161 
 
 girl, stood by him on the shore of a pale, 
 translucid laka 
 
 But without warning his dreams were 
 broken by a sudden thought, and he said : 
 
 "Another time, I think it will be better, 
 my dear Emily, that Mrs. Bentley should take 
 you out." 
 
 " Why should you not take me out? . . . 
 I suppose you don't care to I bore you." 
 
 " No ; on the contrary, I enjoy it I like to 
 see you amused ; but I think you should have 
 a proper chaperon." 
 
 Emily did not answer ; and a little cloud 
 came over her face. Hubert thought she 
 looked even prettier in her displeasure than 
 she had done in her joy ; and he went to sleep 
 thinking of her. Never had he thought her 
 so beautiful never had she touched him with 
 so personal an interest ; and next morning, 
 when he lounged in his study, he was glad 
 to hear her knock at the door ; and the half- 
 hour he spent with her there, yielding to her 
 pleading to come for a walk with her, or drive 
 her over to South Water in the dog-cart, was 
 one of unalloyed pleasure. But a few days 
 after, as he lay in bed, a new idea came to him 
 for his third act. So he had said he would 
 11
 
 162 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 have breakfast in his study. He dressed, 
 thinking the whole time how he could round 
 off his idea and bring it into the act. So clear 
 and precise did it seem in his mind that he sat 
 down immediately after breakfast, forgetting 
 even his matutinal cigar, and wrote with a 
 flowing "pen. He had left orders that he was 
 not to be disturbed ; and was annoyed when 
 the door opened and Emily entered. 
 
 "I am very sorry, but you must not be 
 cross with me ; I do so want you to come and 
 see the Bastwicks with me." 
 
 "My dear Emily, I could not think of such 
 a thing this morning. I am very busy in- 
 deed I am." 
 
 "What are you doing? Nothing very 
 important, I can see. You are only writing 
 your play. You might come with me." 
 
 " My play is as important to me as a visit 
 to the Eastwicks is to you," he answered, 
 smiling. 
 
 " I have promised Edith. ... I really do 
 wish you would come." 
 
 " My dear Emily, it is quite impossible : do 
 let me get on with my work ! " 
 
 Emily's face instantly changed expression ; 
 she turned to leave the room, and Hubert
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 163 
 
 had to go after her and beg her to forgive 
 him he really had not meant to be rude to 
 her. When he returned to his study, having 
 made his peace with her, he sat down at his 
 writing-table, and he noticed with delight that 
 the interruption had not broken the sequence 
 of his thoughts. He wrote on for some hours, 
 rested, and then returned refreshed and ardent 
 to his work ; and it was not till four o'clock 
 that he had exhausted himself, feeling he had 
 done enough for the day. 
 
 He lit a cigar, and threw himself into his 
 arm-chair, happy in the sensation of accom- 
 plishment. Never had he written so fluently 
 before only a shadow of a doubt lingered ; 
 and he felt sure of being able to achieve his 
 play in exactly the manner he had intended ; 
 he even thought it likely that he would ex- 
 ceed his ideal. And as he blew the fragrant 
 smoke from his lips his happiness grew irre- 
 sponsible bird-like in a new sense of wings , 
 and, like a bird in a warm June garden, his 
 soul wandered through a fair region of fancy, 
 and everywhere through the sweet air came 
 intoxicating odors of ultimate success. 
 
 Vague and fugitive remembrance of the 
 literature of all ages passed through his mind,
 
 164 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 and he was astonished at how little had been 
 done. Infinite possibilities seemed to open 
 up before him, and he only asked for time 
 and health to achieve an entirely new litera- 
 ture dramas peopled with human souls, 
 strangely true, intense, subtle, and strong! 
 . . . He analyzed masterpiece after master- 
 piece, finding all defective. "Romeo and 
 Juliet " was only a love-song ; " Hamlet " 
 ought to have ended with a philosophic sui- 
 cide, and not in a series of turbulent assassina- 
 tions. But Shakespeare only wrote poetic 
 romances, and could hardly be said to come 
 into the present argument. The comedies of 
 the Restoration ? Courtly intrigues nothing 
 more. Sheridan had produced well, one 
 admirable piece of work ; after him, no one. 
 Ibsen ? A man of talent, too didactic, too 
 small, too curtailed in rhythm, and generally 
 his plays were disfigured by stage devices of 
 the most threadbare kind. It really was sur- 
 prising how little had been done. Then a 
 little giddiness came into his brain, and the 
 dramatic literature of the world seemed paltry, 
 a mere plot of kitchen -garden. But "The 
 Gipsy"? This play seemed to him to unite 
 all qualities in one perfect whole. It was
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 165 
 
 realistic, romantic, psychological. And the 
 story ? Surely it would be difficult to invent 
 a finer one. 
 
 Overcome with self, he pitied the toilers 
 whom the want of a little money never allows 
 to realize the high ideals that haunt their souls. 
 They must remain unknown ; but he was a 
 great man he could hear his own heart sing- 
 ing the words, " A great man ; " and he felt 
 strangely happy strangely at rest strangely 
 at harmony with his surroundings strangely 
 thankful for all that fate had done for him. 
 Why should he do anything to change the 
 blissful present? That silly little girl who 
 put her visit to the Eastwicks before his play ! 
 Marry ! Why should he marry ? He would 
 like to marry ; but perchance bachelorhood 
 was the natural state of the artist. Were 
 he her husband he'd have to escort her to 
 balls and parties ! . . . That idiotic ball ! 
 She was a pretty and charming little thing, 
 but quite incapable of understanding him. 
 No ; he did not think he would ever marry. 
 
 Then another set of thoughts came upon 
 him. He grew rapidly aware of a number 
 of things he had not noticed before. He 
 remembered how his neighbors, whenever he
 
 166 VAJN FORTUNE 
 
 met them, always asked after Emily, and the 
 looks that were exchanged when they arrived 
 together at tennis parties. His conscience 
 smote him, and he asked himself if he had 
 done anything to encourage ? Surely not. 
 
 He hoped that her manifest interest in him 
 was of a fleeting kind the first ephemeral 
 love of a young girl ; and in this hope he bore 
 with her visits. He could not forbid her his 
 study, and he could not always refuse her his 
 company. Sometimes he took refuge in Mrs. 
 Bentley's society ; but this expedient was not 
 very successful. Mrs. Bentley seemed to 
 avoid him ; and Emily, who seemed to divine 
 all that concerned him with a strange in- 
 tuition, alluded frankly to her inability to 
 acquire interest in anything outside of the 
 little material circle of their lives. She said : 
 
 " You don't care to talk to me. I am not 
 clever enough for you." 
 
 Then pity took him, and he made amends 
 by suggesting they should go for a walk in 
 the park, and she often succeeded in leading 
 him even to dry, uninteresting neighbors. 
 But the burden grew heavier, and soon he 
 could endure no longer the evenings of devo- 
 tion to her in the drawing-room, where the
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 167 
 
 presence of Mrs. Bentley seemed to fill her 
 with incipient rebellion. One evening after 
 dinner, as he was about to escape up-stairs, 
 Emily took his arm, pleading that he should 
 play at least one game of backgammon with 
 her. He played three ; and then thinking he 
 had done enough, he took up a novel and 
 began to read. Emily was bitterly offended. 
 She sat in a corner, a picture of deep misery; 
 aud whenever he spoke to Mrs. Bentley, he 
 thought she would burst into tears. It was 
 exasperating to be the perpetual victim of 
 such folly, and, pressed by the desire to talk 
 to Mrs. Bentley about the book he was read- 
 ing, he suggested that she should come with 
 him to the meet. The harriers met for the 
 first time that season at not five miles from 
 Ashwood. Mrs. Bentley pleaded an engage- 
 ment. She had promised to go over to tea at 
 the rectory. 
 
 " Oh, we shall be back in plenty of time. I'll 
 leave you at the rectory on our way home." 
 
 " Thank you, Mr. Price ; but I do not 
 think I can go." 
 
 " And why, may I ask ? " 
 
 "Well, perhaps Emily would like to go." 
 
 "Emily has a cold, and it would be folly
 
 168 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 of her to venture a long drive on a cold 
 morning." 
 
 " My cold is quite well." 
 
 " You were complaining before dinner how 
 bad it was." 
 
 " If you don't want to take me, say so/' 
 Tears were now streaming down her cheeks. 
 
 " My dear Emily, I am only too pleased 
 to have you with me; I was only thinking 
 of your cold." 
 
 "My cold is quite gone," she said, with 
 brightening face. And next morning she came 
 down with her waterproof on her arm, and 
 she had on a new cloth dress which she had 
 just received from London. Hubert recog- 
 nized in each article of attire a sign that she 
 was determined to carry her point It seemed 
 cruel to tell her to take her things off, and he 
 glanced at Mrs. Bentley and wondered if she 
 were offended. 
 
 " I hope the drive won't tire you ; you 
 know the meet is at least five miles from 
 here." 
 
 Emily did not answer. She looked charm- 
 ing with her great boa tied about her throat, 
 and sprang into the dog-cart all lightness and
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 169 
 
 " I hope you are well wrapped up about the 
 knees," said Mrs. Bentley. 
 
 " Oh, yes, thank you ; Hubert is looking 
 after me." 
 
 Mrs. Bentley's calm, statuesque face, where- 
 on no trace of envy appeared, caught Hubert's 
 attention as he gathered up the reins, and he 
 thought how her altruism contrasted with the 
 passionate egotism of the young girl. 
 
 "I hope Julia was not disappointed. I 
 know she wanted to come ; but " 
 
 "But what?" 
 
 " Well, no one likes Julia more than I do, 
 and I don't want to say anything against her ; 
 but, having lived so long with her, I see her 
 faults better than you can. She is horribly 
 selfish ! It never occurs to her to think of 
 ma" 
 
 Hubert did not answer, and Emily looked 
 at him inquiringly. At last she said : " I 
 suppose you don't think so? " 
 
 " Well, Emily, since you ask me, I must 
 say that I think she took it very good-humor- 
 edly. You said you were ill, and it was all 
 arranged that I should drive her to the meet ; 
 then you suddenly interposed, and said you 
 wanted to go ; and the moment you mentioned
 
 170 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 your desire to go, she gave way without a 
 word. I really don't know what more you 
 want" 
 
 " You don't know Julia. You cannot read 
 her face. She never forgets anything, and is 
 storing it up, and will pay me out for it 
 sooner or later." 
 
 " My dear Emily, how can you say such 
 things ! I never heard She is always ready 
 to sacrifice herself for you." 
 
 " You think so. She has a knack of pre- 
 tending to be more unselfish than another; 
 but she is in reality intensely selfish." 
 
 " All I can say is that it does not strike me 
 so. I never saw any one give way more good- 
 humoredly than she did to-day." 
 
 "I don't think that that is so wonderful, 
 after all. She is only a paid companion ; and 
 I do not see why she should go driving about 
 the country with you, and I be left at home." 
 
 Hubert was somewhat shocked. The con- 
 versation paused. 
 
 "She gets on very well with men," Emily 
 said at last, breaking an irritating silence 
 somewhat suddenly. " They say she is very 
 good-looking. Don't you think so ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, she is certainly a pretty woman
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 171 
 
 or, I should say, a good-looking woman. She 
 is too tall to be what one generally under- 
 stands as a pretty woman." 
 
 " Do you like tall women ? " 
 
 At that moment the hunt appeared in the 
 field at the bottom of the hill. A gray horse 
 had just got rid of his rider, and after gallop- 
 ing round and round, his head in the air, 
 stopped and began to graze. The others 
 jumped the hedge, and the greater part of the 
 field got over the brook in capital style. 
 Emily and Hubert watched them with de- 
 lighted eyes, for the sight was indeed pict- 
 uresque this fine autumn day. Even their 
 horse pricked up his ears and began neighing, 
 and Hubert* had to hold him tight in hand, 
 lest he should break away while they were 
 enjoying the spectacle. At that moment a 
 poor little animal, with fear-haunted eyes, and 
 in all the agony of fatigue, appeared above 
 the crest of the hill, and immediately after 
 came the straining hounds, one within a dozen 
 yards of the poor little beast, now running in 
 a circle, uttering the most plaintive and piti- 
 ful cries. 
 
 " Oh, they are not going to kill it ! " cried 
 Emily. " Oh, save it, save it, Hubert ! " She
 
 172 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 hid her face in her hands. "Did it escape? 
 is it killed? " she said, looking round. " Oh, 
 it is too cruel ! " The huntsman was calling 
 to the hounds, holding something above them, 
 and at every moment horses' heads appeared 
 over the brow of the hill. 
 
 There was more hunting; and when the 
 October night began to gather, and the lurid 
 sunset flared up in the west, Hubert got out 
 another wrap, and placed it about Emily's 
 shoulders. But although the chill night had 
 drawn them close together in the dog-cart, 
 they were as widely separated as if oceans 
 were between them. So far as lay in his 
 power he had hidden the annoyance that the 
 intrusion of her society had occasioned him ; 
 and, to deceive her, very little concealment 
 was necessary. So long as she saw him she 
 seemed to live in a dream, unconscious of 
 every other thought. 
 
 They rolled through a gradual effacement 
 of things, seeing the lights of the farm-houses 
 in the long plain start into existence, and 
 then remain fixed, like gold beetles pinned on 
 a blue curtain. The chill evening drew her 
 to him, till they seemed one; and full of the 
 intimate happiness of the senses which comes
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 173 
 
 of a long day spent in the open air, -she chat- 
 tered of indifferent things. He thought how 
 pleasant the drive would be were he with Mrs. 
 Bentley or, for the matter of that, with an 7 
 one with whom he could talk about the novel 
 that had interested him. They rolled along 
 the smooth wide road, watching the streak of 
 light growing narrower in a veil of light gray 
 cloud drawn athwart the sky. Overpowered 
 by her love, the girl hardly noticed his silence ; 
 and when they passed through the night of an 
 overhanging wood her flesh thrilled, and a 
 little faintness came over her; for the leaves 
 that brushed her face had seemed like a kiss 
 from her lover.
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 As the days went by Emily's demands on 
 Hubert's time grew larger and larger. He 
 had begun to notice that he met her at every 
 turn, that to keep out of her way seemed no 
 longer possible, and with proposals to go here 
 and there, with tennis parties, and with visit- 
 ors, she beguiled him from his play. He 
 yielded because he had no heart to refuse such 
 slight favors to one from whom he had taken 
 so much. 
 
 During the summer mouths he had written 
 hardly anything; and in this long idleness 
 what he believed to be an inspiration had 
 come upon him, and he had rewritten his 
 first and third acts from a slightly different 
 point of view. The second act now engaged 
 his attention. He could not quite determine 
 what it required to bring it into harmony 
 with the first and third ; but his first and 
 third acts pleased him so much that he could 
 not wait for an opinion of his work till he 
 had finished the play, and one evening he
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 spoke of asking some of his London friends 
 to stay with him at Ashwood. Emily and 
 Mrs. Bentley welcomed this proposal. He 
 would ask the editor of The Cosmopolitan, 
 Montague Ford, Harding, and perhaps one or 
 two more. In subsequent consideration it 
 occurred to him that it might be well to ask 
 some one who might take a fancy to Emily. 
 He confided his intention to Mrs. Bentley, 
 who, while avoiding any direct expression of 
 opinion, contrived to let him understand that, 
 if he did not intend marrying Emily, it might 
 be as well to try to get her a husband. There 
 could be very little difficulty a pretty girl 
 with three hundred a year ! And in his letter 
 to the editor Hubert mentioned these facts, 
 suggesting that if he (the editor) could lay his 
 hand on a nice young man, he might bring 
 him down. 
 
 The young man that the editor brought 
 with him was rich, good-looking, and well 
 connected in every way a desirable match ; 
 and, as luck would have it, he seemed very 
 much taken with Emily. After dinner he 
 came and sat by her, devoting himself entirely 
 to her. 
 
 Hubert, who did not care for shooting,
 
 176 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 walked, as the afternoon declined, with the 
 ladies through the fields, so as to meet the 
 sportsmen as they were coming home. And 
 seeing a tall figure getting through a hedge, 
 Hubert and Mrs. Bentley hoped it was young 
 Rawley. It was he ; and they thought, as he 
 strode toward them, his gun on his shoulder, 
 looking so well in his shooting gear, that no 
 girl could refuse him. He gave them a brief 
 description of the day's sport ; and as he then 
 addressed himself entirely to Emily, Hubert 
 and Mrs. Bentley dropped back, leaving the 
 younger couple together. Their kind inten- 
 tion, however, seemed to meet with but scant 
 appreciation at least- from Emily, who fre- 
 quently looked back, and stopped so as to 
 allow Hubert and Mrs. Bentley to catch them 
 up. Hubert was surprised at her obvious 
 want of interest in the young man; and, find- 
 ing himself alone with her in the drawing- 
 room the others had not yet come down-stairs 
 he said: "I cannot understand why you 
 don't like young Kawley." 
 
 "I suppose you want me to marry him ? " 
 she asked abruptly, her voice trembling 
 slightly. 
 
 " I don't want you to marry ; I was think-
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 177 
 
 ing only of your own good, my dear Emily. 
 He is a very nice young man. Almost anv 
 girl- 
 
 " Then let any girl that wants him take 
 him ! " 
 
 " That settles the matter. Let's say no 
 more about it." 
 
 " You are not angry ? " 
 
 " Angry ! " 
 
 " I'm very happy as I am. Unless you 
 wish me to leave Ashwood, I see no reason 
 why I should marry. Do you ? " 
 
 " No, I can't say I do. Most people think 
 a girl should marry ; but I dare say the 
 world is far too prejudiced in favor of mar- 
 riage." 
 
 It was disappointing to see her throw over 
 so excellent a chance, and in quick passage a 
 thought asked what would eventually become 
 of her. The thought passed, leaving no im- 
 pression, swallowed up in more present and 
 more personal interests. He had not enjoyed 
 a literary discussion for months, and was ab- 
 sorbed in Ford, Harding, and the editor. He 
 read to them the acts he had re-written, and 
 these were passionately argued, and the vari- 
 ous alternative fourth and fifth acts which 
 12
 
 178 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 he proposed to his critics formed the theme of 
 conversation. His critics were ready with 
 suggestion; but they differed so widely in 
 their view of the play that it was difficult to 
 arrive at any conclusion. The actor spoke of 
 public taste, and inclined to the opinion that 
 there must be at least one character with whom 
 the audience could wholly sympathize. Hard- 
 ing dissented violently. He thought that 
 Hubert in re-writing his play, with a view of 
 securing the sympathies of the public, had, 
 especially in the third act, deprived the char- 
 acters of a great deal of their original human- 
 ity. Hubert denied that he had re- written 
 his play with a view to securing the the- 
 atrical sympathies of the audience, and the 
 editor joined issue with Harding regarding the 
 third act He infinitely preferred the revised 
 version. On the other hand, he could not but 
 think that the first act was better as Hubert 
 had originally written it. It was simpler and 
 more logical. "But why," he said, "seek 
 after any one's advice ? You are now a rich 
 man, and can afford to impose your ideas on 
 the public. Finish your play in the way it 
 seems best to you, come up to London, take a 
 theatre, and produce it. We shall all be there
 
 VA*IN FORTUNE 179 
 
 to applaud you ; and if it is good, we will, I 
 promise you, fight your battle." This advice 
 appeared to Hubert to be excellent, and when 
 his friends left him he made a new scenario. 
 
 He worked very hard, roughing out his play 
 from end to end. New ideas came to him, 
 but the difficulty of working them into the 
 woof of his story was very great. They 
 seemed to find their places in the end ; and, 
 feeling sure he would now be able to finish 
 " The Gipsy " to his satisfaction, he had al- 
 ready begun to speak of the theatre he would 
 select, and of the date of the first performance. 
 Both women were eagerly interested ; and 
 after dinner, the excitement of the journey to 
 town, the dresses they would wear, the assem- 
 blage of fashion in the theatre, the great sup- 
 per to which all genius and talent would be 
 invited, and, above all, the pleasure of seeing 
 Hubert successful, were the theme of their 
 conversation. In the excitement of this pros- 
 pect of pleasure, and new sensation of life, 
 Emily's jealousy of Julia seemed to subside 
 her melancholy little soul seemed to brighten ; 
 and it was not until Hubert directed any con- 
 siderable amount of his conversation to Mrs. 
 Bentley that she retreated into a corner and
 
 180 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 sat watching, as her wont was, in miserable 
 silence. 
 
 One afternoon, about the end of September, 
 Hubert came down from his study about tea- 
 time, and announced that he had written the 
 last scene of his last act Emily was alone in 
 the drawing-room, 
 
 " Oh, how glad I am ! Then it is done at 
 last. Why not write at once and engage the 
 theatre? When shall we go to London? " 
 
 " Well, I don't mean that the play could be 
 put into rehearsal to-morrow. It still requires 
 a good deal of overhauling. Besides, even if 
 it were completely finished, I should not care 
 to produce it at once. I should like to lay it 
 aside for a couple of months, and see how it 
 read then." 
 
 " What a lot of trouble you do take ! Does 
 every one who writes plays take so much 
 trouble?" 
 
 " No, I'm afraid they do not, nor is it nec- 
 essary they should. Their plays are merely 
 incidents strung together more or less loosely ; 
 whereas my play is the development of a tem- 
 perament, of temperamental characteristics 
 which cannot be altered, having been inher- 
 ited through centuries ; it must therefore
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 181 
 
 pursue its course to a fatal conclusion. In 
 Shakespeare But no, no ! these things 
 have no interest for you. You shall have the 
 nicest dress that money can buy ; and if the 
 play succeeds " 
 
 The girl raised her pathetic eyes. In truth, 
 she cared not at all what he talked to her about. 
 She was occupied with her own thoughts of 
 him, and just to sit in the room with him, and 
 to look at him occasionally, was sufficient. 
 But for once his words had pained her. It 
 was because she could not understand that he 
 did not care to talk to her. Why did she not 
 understand? It was hard for a little girl like 
 her to understand such things as he spoke 
 about ; but she would understand ; and then 
 her thoughts passed into words, and she 
 said: 
 
 " I understand quite as well as Julia. She 
 knows the names of more books than I, and 
 she is very clever at pretending that she 
 knows more than she does." 
 
 At that moment Mrs. Bentley entered. She 
 saw that Emily was enjoying her talk with 
 her cousin, and tried to withdraw. But Hu- 
 bert told her that he had written the last act ; 
 she pretended to be looking for a book, and
 
 182 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 then for some work which she said had 
 dropped out of her basket. 
 
 "If Emily would only continue the talk- 
 ing," she thought, " I should be able to get 
 away." But Emily said not a word. She 
 sat as if frozen in her chair ; and at length 
 Mrs. Bentley was obliged to enter, however 
 cursorily, into the conversation. 
 
 " If you have written out ' The Gipsy ' 
 from end to end, I should advise you to pro- 
 duce it without further delay. Once it is put 
 on the stage, you will be able to see better 
 where it is wrong." 
 
 ' Then it will be too late. The critics will 
 have expressed their opinion; the work will 
 be judged. There are only one or two points 
 about which I am doubtful. I wish Harding 
 were here. I cannot work unless I have some 
 one to talk to about my work. I don't mean 
 to say that I take advice ; but the very fact 
 of reading an act to a sympathetic listener 
 helps me. I wrote the first act of ' Divorce ' 
 in that way. It was all wrong. I had some 
 vague ideas about how it might be mended. 
 A friend came in ; I told him my difficulties ; 
 in telling them they vanished, and I wrote an 
 entirely new act that very night."
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 183 
 
 "I'm sorry," said Mrs. Bentley, "that I am 
 not Mr. Harding. It must be very gratifying 
 to one's feelings to be able to help to solve a 
 literary difficulty, particularly if one cannot 
 write one's self." 
 
 "But you can I'm sure you can. I re- 
 member asking your advice once before; it 
 was excellent, and was of immense help to 
 me. Are you sure it will not bore you ? I 
 shall be so much obliged if you will." 
 
 "Bore me! No, it won't bore me," said 
 Mrs. Bentley. " I'm sure I feel very much 
 flattered." The color mounted to her cheek, 
 a smile was on her lips ; but it went out at 
 the sight of Emily's face. 
 
 " Then come up to my study. We shall 
 have just time to get through the first act 
 before dinner." 
 
 Mrs. Bentley hesitated; and, noticing her 
 hesitation, Hubert looked surprised. At that 
 moment Emily said : 
 
 " May I not come, too ? " 
 
 " Well, I don't know, Emily. You see 
 that we wish to see if there is anything in the 
 play that a young girl should not hear." 
 
 " Always an excuse to get rid of me. You 
 want to be alone. I never come into the room
 
 184 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 that you do not stop speaking. Oh, I can 
 bear it no longer ! " 
 
 " My dear Emily ! " 
 
 " Don't touch me ! Go to her ; shut your- 
 selves up together. Don't think of me. I can 
 bear it no longer ! " And she fled from the 
 room, leaving behind her a sensation of alarm 
 and pity. Hubert and Mrs. Bentley stood 
 looking at each other, both at a loss for words. 
 At last he said : 
 
 " That poor child will cry herself into her 
 grave. Have you noticed how poorly she is 
 looking ? " 
 
 " Not noticed ! But you do not know half 
 of it. It has been going on now a long time. 
 You don't know half ! " 
 
 " I have noticed that things are not settling 
 down as I hoped they would. It really has 
 become quite dreadful to see that poor face 
 looking reproachfully at you all day long. 
 And I am quite at a loss to know what's the 
 right thing to do." 
 
 " It is worse than you think. You have 
 not noticed that we hardly speak now." 
 
 " You who were such friends surely 
 not!" 
 
 Then she told him hurriedly, in brief
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 185 
 
 phrases, of the change that had taken place in 
 Emily in the last three months. " It was only 
 the other night she accused me of going after 
 you, of having designs upon you. It is very 
 painful to have to tell you these things, but I 
 have no choice in the matter. She lay on her 
 bed crying, saying that every one hated her ; 
 that she was thoroughly miserable. Somehow 
 she seems naturally an- unhappy child. She 
 was unhappy at home before she came here ; 
 but then I believe she had excellent reasons 
 her father was a very terrible person. How- 
 ever, all that is past ; we have to consider the 
 present now. She accused me of having de- 
 signs on you, insisting all the while that every 
 one was talking about it, and that she was 
 fretting solely because of my good name. Of 
 course, it is very ridiculous ; but it is very 
 pitiful, and will end badly if we don't take 
 means to put a stop to it. I shouldn't be sur- 
 prised if she went off her head. We ought 
 to have the best medical advice." 
 
 " This is very serious," he said. And then, 
 at the end of a long silence, he said again : 
 " This is very serious perhaps far more 
 serious than we think." 
 
 " Not more serious than I think. I ought
 
 186 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 to have spoken about it to you before ; but 
 the subject is a delicate one. She hardly 
 sleeps at all at night ; she cries sometimes for 
 hours; she works herself up into such fits of 
 nervousness that she doesn't know what she 
 is saying she accuses me of killing her, and 
 then repents, declaring that I am the only one 
 who has ever cared for her, and begs of me 
 not to leave her. I do assure you it is be- 
 coming very serious." 
 
 " Have you any proposal to make regard- 
 ing her ? I need hardly say that I'm ready 
 to carry out any idea of yours." 
 
 "You know what the cause of it is, I 
 suppose ? " 
 
 " I do not know ; I am not certain. I dare 
 say I'm mistaken." 
 
 u No, you are not ; I wish you were that 
 is to say, unless But I was saying that it 
 is most serious. The child's health is affected ; 
 she is working herself up into an awful state 
 of mind ; she is losing all self-control. I'm 
 sure I'm the last person who would say any- 
 thing against her ; but the time has come to 
 speak out Well, the other day, when we 
 were at the Eastwicks', you took the chair 
 next to mine when she left the room. When
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 187 
 
 she returned, she saw that you had changed 
 your place, and she said to Ethel Eastwick : 
 ' Oh, I'm fainting. I cannot go in there ; they 
 are together.' Ethel had to take her up to 
 her room. Well, this morbid sensitiveness is 
 most unhealthy. If I walk out on the terrace, 
 she follows, thinking that I have made an ap- 
 pointment to meet you. Jealousy of me fills 
 up her whole mind. I assure you that I am 
 most seriously alarmed. Something occurs 
 every day trifles, no doubt ; and in anybody 
 else they would mean nothing, but in her they 
 mean a great deal." 
 
 " But what do you propose? " 
 
 " Unless you intend to marry her forgive 
 me for speaking so plainly there is only one 
 thing to do. I must leave." 
 
 " No, no, you must not leave ! She could 
 not live alone with me. But does she want 
 you to leave?" 
 
 " No, that is the worst of it. I have pro- 
 posed it ; she will not hear of it ; to mention 
 the subject is to provoke a scene. She is 
 afraid if I left that you would come and see 
 me; and the very thought of my escaping her 
 vigilance is intolerable." 
 
 " It is very strange."
 
 188 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 " Yes, it is very strange ; but, opposed 
 though she be to all thoughts of it, I must 
 leave." 
 
 " As a favor I ask you to stay. Do me this 
 service, I beg of you. I have set my heart 
 on finishing my play this autumn. If it isn't 
 finished now, it never will be finished ; and 
 your leaving would create so much trouble 
 that all thought of work would be out of the 
 question. Emily could not remain alone here 
 with me. I should have to find another com- 
 panion for her; and you know how difficult 
 that would be. I'm worried quite enough, as 
 it is." A look of pain passed through his 
 eyes, and Mrs. Bentley wondered what he 
 could mean. " No," he said, taking her hands, 
 "we are good friends are we not? Dome 
 this service. Stay with me until I finish this 
 play ; then, if things do not mend, go if 
 you like, but not now. Will you promise 
 me?" 
 
 " I promise." 
 
 "Thank you. I am deeply obliged to 
 
 you." 
 
 At the end of a long silence, Hubert said : 
 '' Will you not come up-stairs, and let me read 
 you the first act ? "
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 189 
 
 " I should like to, but I think it better not 
 If Emily heard that you had read me your 
 play, she would not close her eyes to-night ; 
 it would be tears and misery all the night 
 through."
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE study in which he had determined to 
 write his masterpiece had been fitted up with 
 taste and care. The floor was covered with a 
 rare Persian carpet, and the walls were lined 
 with graceful book-cases of Chippendale de- 
 sign ; the volumes, half -morocco, calf, and the 
 yellow paper of French novels, showed through 
 the diamond panes. The writing-table stood 
 in front of the window ; like the book-cases, it 
 was Chippendale, and on the dark mahogany 
 the handsome silver inkstand seemed to invite 
 literary composition. There was a scent of 
 flowers in the room. Emily had filled a bowl 
 of old china with some pale September roses. 
 The curtains were made of a modern cretonne 
 their color was similar to the bowl of roses ; 
 and the large couch on which Hubert lay was 
 covered with the same material. On one wall 
 there was a sea-piece by Courbet, and upon 
 another a river landscape, with rosy-tinted 
 evening sky, by Corot The chimney-piece 
 was set out with a large gilt time-piece, and
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 191 
 
 candelabra in Dresden china. Hubert had 
 bought these works of art on the occasion of 
 his last visit to London, about two months 
 ago. 
 
 It was twelve o'clock. He had finished 
 reading his second act, and the reading had 
 been a bitter disappointment. The idea 
 floated, pure and seductive, in his mind ; but 
 when he tried to reduce it to a precise shape 
 upon paper, it seemed to escape in some vague, 
 mysterious way. Enticingly, like a butterfly 
 it fluttered before him; he followed like a 
 child, eagerly his brain set on the mazy 
 flight. It led him through a country where 
 all was promise of milk and honey. He fol- 
 lowed, sure that the alluring spirit would soon 
 choose a flower; then he would capture it. 
 Often it seemed to settle. He approached 
 with palpitating heart ; but lo ! when the net 
 was withdrawn it was empty. 
 
 A look of pain and perplexity came upon 
 his face ; he remembered the lodging at seven 
 shillings a week in the Tottenham Court Road. 
 He had suffered there; but it seemed to him 
 that he was suffering more here. He had 
 changed his surroundings, but he had not 
 changed himself. Success and failure, despair
 
 192 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 and hope, joy and sorrow, lie within and not 
 without us. His pain lay at his heart's root ; 
 he could not pluck it forth, and its gratifica- 
 tion seemed more than ever impossible. He 
 changed his position on the couch. Suddenly 
 his thoughts said : " Perhaps I am mistaken in 
 the subject. Perhaps that is the reason. Per- 
 haps there is no play to be extracted from it ; 
 perhaps it would be better to abandon it and 
 choose another." For a few seconds he scanned 
 the literary horizon of his mind. " No, no ! " 
 he said bitterly, " this is the play I was born 
 to write. No other subject is possible ; I can 
 think of nothing else. This is all I can feel 
 or sea" It was the second act that now defied 
 his efforts. It had once seemed clear and of 
 exquisite proportions ; now no second act 
 seemed possible : the subject did not seem to 
 admit of a second act ; and, clasping his fore- 
 head with his hands, he strove to think it out. 
 He remembered that in the second act, 
 drawn by irresistible instinct, Lady Hay ward 
 visits the gipsies' encampment The nostalgia 
 of the desert is upon her; she questions them 
 about their wanderings, learning eventually 
 that the old fortune-teller is her mother. Al- 
 though Lady Hayward loves her husband,
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 193 
 
 she is unconsciously drawn toward a young 
 gipsy ; and it is at the close of the act that 
 this note of the attraction of race, out of which 
 the story proceeds, is first touched upon. But 
 though clear and precise in its conception, this 
 act, as the author recognized, was overgrown 
 with a fungous growth of subordinate idea. 
 He felt that all subordinate idea must be 
 eliminated, and nothing left but just enough 
 to explain the drama that was to follow. But 
 how to secure the main theme, and preserve 
 it like a thread of gold to the end ? 
 
 In his distraction he would take down book 
 after book, never finding the one he wanted ; 
 he would turn over newspapers ; or, dashing 
 out of the house and wandering about in the 
 park, the strain of his thoughts, first relieved 
 by the chatter of a bird or an effect of light, 
 would unconsciously steal back to Lady Hay- 
 ward ; and very often, before he was aware, 
 the dense dilemma and devious labyrinth of 
 the act would grow suddenly clear, and meas- 
 ure out in proportioned ways; and he, feeling 
 strong and capable of achievement, would 
 hasten home, fearing he might lose the pre- 
 cious inspiration. See him on a wet Septem- 
 ber morning, hurrying through the deep grass, 
 13
 
 194 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 his feet soaking, fearing only lest the idea 
 should fade before he reaches the white sheet 
 of paper. As he approaches his study it 
 slackens within him, and he waits not to 
 throw off his boots, but sits down at once and 
 writes precipitately. But as he draws to the 
 end of the first few rcpliqucs the scene withers 
 in his brain, and goes out like a dying light. 
 See him reading and re-reading the few lines 
 he has written, knowing them to be worthless, 
 tortured by a prescience of the perfection re- 
 quired, and maddened by the sight of the 
 futility that is. See him rising from his 
 writing-table with blank despair upon his 
 face, unable to bear any longer the mocking 
 ghastliness of the sheet of paper. He throws 
 himself on the couch, absorbed in despair, and 
 then a curious painful look creeps round the 
 corners of the mouth, and looks out of the 
 eyes the pained, pinched look of impotent 
 desire. Any distraction from the haunting 
 pain, now becoming chronic, is welcome, and 
 he answers with a glad " Come in ! " the knock 
 at the door. 
 
 " I'm sorry," said Mrs. Bentley, " for dis- 
 turbing you, but I should like to know what 
 fish you would like for your dinner soles,
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 195 
 
 turbot, or whiting ? Immersed in literary 
 problems as you are, I dare say these details 
 are very prosaic ; but I notice that later in the 
 day " 
 
 Hubert laughed. " I find such details far 
 more agreeable than literature. I can do 
 nothing with my play." 
 
 "Aren't you getting on this morning? " 
 
 " No, not very well." 
 
 " What do you think of turbot ? " 
 
 " I think turbot very nice. Emily likes 
 turbot" 
 
 " Yery well, then. I'll order turbot" 
 
 As Mrs. Bentley was about to withdraw, 
 she said : " I'm sorry you are not getting on. 
 What stops you now? That second act ? " 
 
 " Come, you are not very busy. I'll read 
 you the act as it stands, and then tell you how 
 I think it ought to be altered. Nothing helps 
 me so much as to talk it over ; not only does 
 it clear up my ideas, but it gives me desire to 
 write. My best work has always been done 
 in that way." 
 
 "I really don't think I can stay. If Emily 
 heard that you had been reading your play to 
 me " 
 
 " I'm tired of hearing of what Emily thinks.
 
 196 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 I can put up with a good deal, and I know 
 that it is m j duty to show much forbearance ; 
 but there is a limit to all things ! " This was 
 the first time Mrs. Bentley had seen him 
 show either excitement or anger ; she hardly 
 knew him in this new aspect In a moment 
 the blond calm of the Saxon had dropped 
 from him, and some Celtic emphasis appeared 
 in his speech. " This hysterical girl," he con- 
 tinued, " is a sore burden. Tears about this, 
 and sighs about that ; fainting fits because I 
 happen to take a chair next to yours. You 
 may depend upon it our lives are already the 
 constant gossip of the neighborhood." 
 
 " I know it is very annoying ; and I, 
 I assure you, receive my share. Every look 
 and word is misinterpreted. I must not stay 
 here." 
 
 " You must not go ! I really want you. I 
 assure you that your opinion will be of value." 
 
 " But think of Emily. It will make her 
 wretched if she hears of it You do not know 
 how it affects her. The slightest thing ! 
 You hardly see anything ; I see it all." 
 
 "But there is no sense in it; it is pure 
 madness. I'm writing a play, trying to work 
 out a most difficult problem, and am in want
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 197 
 
 of an audience, and I ask you if you will be 
 kind enough to let me read you the act, and 
 you cannot listen to it because because 
 yes, that's just it because." 
 
 " You do not know how she suffers. Let 
 me go ; spare her the pain." 
 
 " She is not the only one who suffers. Do 
 you think that I don't suffer ? I've set my 
 heart my very life is set on this play. I 
 must get through with it ; they are all waiting 
 for it. My enemies say I cannot write it, but 
 I shall if you will help me." 
 
 " Poor Emily's heart is equally broken. 
 Her life is equally set Mrs. Bentley 
 did not finish. Hubert just caught the words. 
 Their significance struck him: he looked 
 questioningly into Mrs. Bentley 's eyes ; then, 
 pretending not to have understood, he begged 
 her to remain. With the air of one who 
 yields to a temptation, she came into the 
 room. He felt strangely happy, and, draw- 
 ing over an arm-chair for her, he threw him- 
 self on the couch. He noticed that she wore 
 a loose white jacket, and once during the read- 
 ing of the act he was conscious of a beautiful 
 hand hanging over the rail of the chair. 
 Sometimes, in an exciting passage, the hands
 
 198 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 were clasped. The black slippers and the 
 slender, black-stockinged ankles showed be- 
 neath the skirt ; and when he raised his eyes 
 from the manuscript, he saw the blond face 
 and hair, and the pale eyes were always fixed 
 upon him. She listened with a keen and 
 penetrating interest to his criticism of the act, 
 agreeing with him generally, sometimes quietly 
 contesting a point, and with some strange fas- 
 cination drawing new and unexpected ideas 
 from him ; and in the intellectual warmth of 
 her femininity his brain seemed to clear and 
 his ideas took new shape. 
 
 "Ah," he said, after two hours' delightful 
 talk, "how much I'm indebted to you! At 
 last I see my mistakes; in two days I shall 
 have written the act ... If I only had you 
 by me, I should soon finish the play. Just 
 to talk to you, just some slight communion 
 with good sense, and I've got it I do not 
 think I'll come down to lunch. Send me up 
 a sandwich ; but before you go, let me tell 
 you. ... In the third act, you know, the 
 nostalgia of the tent gains upon her; her 
 husband lavishes presents of love and jewels 
 upon her, but to no purpose. She pines for 
 the stars and skies of the encampment : she
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 199 
 
 pines also for her gipsy lover ; but of her 
 love for him she is not yet conscious. The 
 act ends with her elopement. In the fourth 
 act her husband comes after her ; for her sake 
 he will become a gipsy ; he will wander with 
 her, her people shall be his people. But now 
 she shrinks from him as one of an alien race. 
 He learns the truth ; the men meet and they 
 fight. Lord Hayward is stabbed by the gipsy. 
 ... In the fifth act, overcome with remorse 
 and unable to stand the rough life of the en- 
 campment, Lady Hayward escapes and returns 
 to her home. She is followed by the gipsy. 
 The last act is by her husband's tomb, and 
 the play ends with her death." Hubert told 
 the story of his play, looking at Mrs. Bentley, 
 but hardly seeing her, completely absorbed in 
 his desire. She looked at him, noticing every 
 characteristic the shape of his ears, of his 
 hands, the color of his eyes, every peculiarity 
 of manner ; and the thought passed : " How 
 he does love his work ! How his life is in 
 it!" 
 
 When she left he instantly sat down to 
 write, and he wrote rapidly for nearly two 
 hours, reconstructing the opening scenes of 
 his second act. He then threw himself on
 
 200 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 the couch, smoked a cigar, and after half an 
 hour's rest continued writing till dinner-time. 
 When he came down-stairs, the thought of 
 what he had been writing was still so vivid in 
 him that he did not notice at once the silence 
 of those with whom he was dining. He com- 
 plimented Mrs. Bentley on the freshness of 
 the turbot ; she hardly answered ; and then 
 he became aware that something had gone 
 wrong. What ? Only one thing was possi- 
 ble. Emily had heard that Mrs. Bentley had 
 been in his study. Looking from the woman 
 to the girl, he saw that the latter had been 
 weeping. She was still in a highly hysterical 
 state, and might burst into tears and fly from 
 the dinner-table at any moment. His face 
 changed expression, and it was with difficulty 
 that he restrained his temper. His life had 
 been made up of a constant recurrence of 
 these scenes, and he was wholly weary of 
 them ; and the thought of the absolute want 
 of reason in the causeless jealousy, and the 
 misery that these little bickerings made of his 
 life, exasperated him beyond measure. The 
 dinner proceeded in silence, and every slight 
 remark was a presage of storm. Hubert 
 hoped the girl would say nothing until the
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 201 
 
 servant left the room, and with that view he 
 never spoke a word except to ask the ladies 
 what they would take to eat These tactics 
 might have succeeded if Mrs. Bentley had not 
 unfortunately said that next week she in- 
 tended to go to London for a couple of days. 
 "The Eastwicks are there now, and they've 
 asked me to stay with them." 
 
 " I think I shall go up with you. I want 
 to go to London," said Emily. 
 
 " It will be very nice if you'll come ; but 
 we cannot both stay with the Eastwicks ; they 
 have only one spare room." 
 
 "I suppose you'd like me to go to an 
 hotel." 
 
 " My dear Emily, how can you think of 
 such a thing ? A young girl like you could 
 not stay at an hotel alone. I shall be only too 
 pleased if you will go to the Eastwicks ; I will 
 go to the hotel." 
 
 Emily's lip quivered, and in the irritating 
 silence both Hubert and Mrs. Bentley saw 
 that she was trying to overcome her passion. 
 They fervently hoped she would succeed ; for 
 at that moment the servant was handing round 
 the wine, and the time he took to accomplish 
 this service seemed endless. He had filled
 
 202 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 the last glass, had handed round the dessert, 
 and was preparing to leave the room when 
 Emily said : 
 
 " The hotel will suit you very well. You'll 
 be free to see Hubert whenever you like." 
 
 Hubert looked up quickly, hoping Mrs. 
 Bentley would not answer, but before he 
 could make a sign she said: 
 
 " What do you mean, Emily ? I did not 
 know that Hubert was going to London." 
 
 " You hardly expect me to believe that, do 
 you?" 
 
 The servant was still in the room ; but no 
 look of astonishment appeared on his face, 
 and Hubert hoped he had not heard. An 
 awful silence glowered upon the dinner-table. 
 The moment the door closed Hubert said, 
 turning angrily to Emily : 
 
 " Really, I am quite surprised, Emily, that 
 you should make such observations in the 
 presence of servants ! This has been going 
 on quite long enough ; you are making the 
 house intolerable. I shall not be able to live 
 here any longer." 
 
 Emily burst into a passionate flood of tears. 
 She declared she was wretchedly miserable 
 and that she fully understood that Hubert
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 203 
 
 had begun to regret that he had asked her to 
 stay at Ashwood. Everything had been taken 
 from her ; every one was against her. Her 
 sobs shook her frail little frame as if they 
 would break it, and Hubert's heart was wrung 
 at the sight of such genuine suffering. 
 
 " My dear Emily, I assure you you are 
 mistaken. We both love you very much." 
 He got up from his chair, and, putting his 
 arm about her, besought her to dry her eyes ; 
 but she shook him passionately from her, and 
 fled from the room. Three days after Emily 
 tore up one of her songs, because Mrs. Bentley 
 had sung it without her leave. And so on and 
 so on, week after week. No sooner was one 
 quarrel allayed than signs of another began to 
 appear. Hubert despaired. " How is this to 
 end ? " he asked himself every day. Mrs. Bent- 
 ley begged him to cancel her promise, and allow 
 her to go. But that was impossible. He 
 could not remain alone with Emily ; if he left 
 her she would not fail to believe that he had 
 gone after her rival. The situation had be- 
 come so tense that they ended by discussing 
 these questions almost without reserve. To 
 make matters worse, Emily had begun visibly 
 to lose her health. There was neither color
 
 204 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 in her cheeks nor light in her eyes ; she hardly 
 slept at all, and had grown more than ever 
 like a little shadow. The doctor had been 
 summoned, and, after prescribing a tonic, had 
 advised quiet and avoidance of all excitement 
 Therefore Hubert and Mrs. Bentley agreed 
 never to meet except when Emily was present, 
 and then strove to speak as little as possible 
 to each other. But the very fact of having 
 to restrain themselves in looks, glances, and 
 every slightest word for Emily misinter- 
 preted all things whetted their appetites for 
 each other's society. 
 
 In the misery of his study, when he watched 
 the sheet of paper, he often sought relief in 
 remembrance of her sweet manner, and the 
 happy morning he had spent in her com- 
 panionship. What he had written under the 
 direct influence of her inspiration still seemed 
 to him to be less bad than the rest of his play ; 
 and he began to feel sure that, if ever this 
 play were written, it would be written in the 
 benign charm of her sweet encouragement, in 
 the reposeful shadow of her presence. But 
 that presence was forbidden him that pres- 
 ence that seemed so necessary ; and for what 
 reason? Turning on the circumstances of
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 205 
 
 his life, he raged against them, declaring that 
 it would be folly to allow his very life's desire 
 to be frittered away to gratify a young girl's 
 caprice a caprice which in a few years she 
 would laugh at And whenever he was not 
 thinking of his play, he remembered the 
 charm of Mrs. Bentley's company, and the 
 beneficent effect it had on his work. He had 
 never known a woman he had liked so much, 
 and he felt he started at the thought, so like 
 an inspiration did it seem to him that the 
 only possible solution of the present situation 
 was his marriage with her. Once he was 
 married, Emily would soon learn to forget 
 him. They would take her up to London for 
 the season ; and, amid the healthy excitement 
 of balls and parties, her girlish fancy would 
 evaporate. No doubt she would meet again 
 the young cavalry officer whose addresses she 
 had received so coldly. She would be sure to 
 meet him again be sure to think him the 
 most charming man in the world ; they would 
 marry, and she would make him the best pos- 
 sible wife. The kindest action they could do 
 Emily would be to marry. There was noth- 
 ing else to do, and they must do something, 
 or else the girl would die. It seemed wonder-
 
 20G VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 ful to Hubert that he had not thought of all 
 this before. " It is the very obvious solution 
 of the problem," he said ; and his heart beat 
 as he heard Mrs. Bentley's step in the corridor. 
 It died away in the distance ; but a few days 
 after, when he heard it again, he jumped from 
 his chair, and ran to the door. " Come," he 
 said, " I want to speak to you," 
 
 " Na, no, I beg of you ! " 
 
 " I must speak to you ! " He laid his hand 
 upon her arm, and said : "I beg of you. I 
 have something to say it is of great import- 
 ance. Come in." 
 
 They looked at each other a moment, and 
 it seemed as if they could see into each other's 
 souls. Then a look of yielding passed into 
 her eyes, and she said : 
 
 "Well, what is it?" 
 
 The familiarity of the words struck her, 
 and she saw by the kindling tenderness in his 
 eyes that they had given him pleasure. She 
 almost knew he was going to tell her that he 
 loved her. He looked toward the open door, 
 and, guessing his intention, she said : 
 
 "Don't shut it ! Speak quickly. Remem- 
 ber that she may pass at any moment. Were 
 she to find us together, she would suffer; it
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 207 
 
 would be tears and reproaches. What you 
 have to say to me is about her?" 
 
 "Of course; we never speak of anything 
 else. But we must not be overheard. I must 
 shut the door." She noticed a certain em- 
 barrassment in his manner. Suddenly relin- 
 quishing his intention to take her hands, he 
 said : 
 
 "This cannot go on; our lives are being 
 made .unbearable. You agree with me do 
 you not ? " 
 
 " Yes," she said, with a curious inquiring 
 look in her eyes. "You had better let me 
 leave. It is the only way out of the diffi- 
 culty." 
 
 " You know very well, Julia, that that is 
 impossible." 
 
 It was the first time he had used her Chris- 
 tian name, and she knew now he was going 
 to ask her to marry him. A frightened look 
 passed into her face ; she turned from him ; 
 he took her hands. 
 
 "No, Julia," he said ; " there is another and 
 better way out of the difficulty. You will 
 stop here you will be my wife?" Reading 
 the look of pain that had come into her eyes, 
 he said : " You will not refuse me ? I want
 
 208 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 you I can do nothing without you. If you 
 leave me, I shall never be able to write my 
 play ; it can only be written under your influ- 
 ence. I love you, Julia ! " She allowed him 
 to draw her toward him, and then she broke 
 away. 
 
 " Oh," she said, " why do you say these 
 things? You only make my task harder. 
 You know that I cannot betray my friend. 
 Why do you tempt me to do a dishonorable 
 action ? " 
 
 " A dishonorable action ! What do you 
 mean ? It is the only way to save her. Once 
 we are married, she will forget No doubt 
 she will shed a few tears ; but to save the 
 body we must often lose a limb. It is even 
 so. Things cannot go on as they are. We 
 cannot watch her withering away under our 
 very eyes ; and that is what is actually hap- 
 pening. I have thought it all over, con- 
 sidered it from every point of view, and have 
 come to the conclusion that that, well, that 
 we had better marry. You must have seen 
 that I atways liked you. I did not my- 
 self know how much until a few days ago. 
 Say that I am not wholly disagreeable to 
 you."
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 209 
 
 "No, I will not listen to you! My con- 
 science tells me plainly where my duty lies. 
 Not for all the world will I play Emily false. 
 I shudder to think of such a thing ; it would 
 be the basest ingratitude. I owe everything 
 to her. "When I hadn't a penny in the world, 
 and when in my homelessness I wrote to Mr. 
 Burnett, she pleaded in my favor, and decided 
 him to take me as a companion. No, no ! a 
 thousand times no ! Let go my hands. Do 
 you not know what it is to be loyal ? " 
 
 " I hope I do. But, as I have explained, 
 it is the only solution. The romantic attach- 
 ments of young girls, unless nipped in the 
 bud, often end fatally. Do you not see how 
 ill she is looking? She is wearing her life 
 away. We will be acting in her best interests. 
 Besides, she is not the only person to be con- 
 sidered. Do I not love you ? Are you not 
 the very woman whose influence, whose guid- 
 ance, is necessary, so that I should succeed ? 
 Without your help I shall never write my 
 play. A woman's influence is necessary to 
 every undertaking. The greatest writers owe 
 their best inspiration to " 
 
 "Her heart is as closely set upon you as 
 yours is upon your play." 
 14
 
 210 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 " But," cried Hubert, " I do not love her ! 
 Under no circumstances would I marry her. 
 That I swear to you. If she and I were alone 
 on a desert island 
 
 Julia looked at him one moment doubtingly, 
 inquiringly. Then she said : 
 
 " Hers is no evanescent fancy, but a passion 
 that goes to the very roots of her nature, and 
 will kill her if it be not satisfied." 
 
 " Or cut out in time." 
 
 " I must leave." 
 
 " That will not mend matters." 
 
 "My departure will at all events remove 
 all cause for jealousy ; and when I am gone 
 you may learn to love her." 
 
 "No; that I swear is impossible!" 
 
 " You very likely think so now ; but I'm 
 bound to give her every chance of winning 
 
 you." 
 
 " I say again that that is impossible ! I 
 have never seen a woman except yourself I 
 could marry. I tell you so : believe me as you 
 like. ... In this matter you are acting like 
 a woman you allow your emotions and not 
 your intellect to lead you. By acting thus, 
 you are certainly sacrificing two lives hers 
 and mine. Of your own I do not speak, not
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 211 
 
 knowing what is passing in your heart ; but 
 if by any chance you should care for me, you 
 are adding your own happiness to the general 
 holocaust." Neither spoke again for some 
 time. 
 
 " Why should you not marry her ? " 
 Julia said at the end of a long silence. 
 " Some people think her quite a pretty 
 girl." 
 
 The lovers looked at each other, and smiled 
 sadly. And then, in pathetic phrases, Hubert 
 tried to explain why he could never love 
 Emily. He spoke of his age, and of difference 
 of tastes he liked clever women. The con- 
 versation fell. At the end of a long silence 
 Julia said : 
 
 " There is nothing for it but my departure, 
 and the sooner the better." 
 
 "You are not in earnest? You are surely 
 not in earnest ? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed, I am." 
 
 " Then if you go, you must take her with 
 you. She cannot remain here alone with me. 
 And even if she could, I could not live with her. 
 Her folly has destroyed any liking I may 
 have ever had for her. You'll have to take 
 her with you."
 
 212 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 "She would not come with me. I spoke 
 to her once of a trip abroad." 
 
 " And she refused ? " 
 
 "She said she only wanted things to go on 
 just as they are."
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 IN some trepidation Julia knocked Re- 
 ceiving no reply, she opened the door, and her 
 candle burnt in what a moment before must 
 have been inky darkness. Emily lay on her 
 bed on the edge of . it ; and the only move- 
 ment she made was to avert her eyes from the 
 light. "What! all alone in this darkness, 
 Emily? . . . Shall I light your candles?" 
 She had to repeat the question before she 
 could get an answer. 
 
 " No, thank you ; I want nothing ; I have 
 no wish to see anything. I like the dark." 
 
 " Have you been asleep? " 
 
 " No, I have not. . . . Why do you come 
 to torment me? It cannot matter to you 
 whether I lie in the dark or the light. Oh, 
 take that candle away! it is blinding me." 
 Julia put the candle on the washstand. Then, 
 full of pity for the grieving girl, she stood, 
 her hand resting on the bed-rail. 
 
 " Aren't you coming down to dinner, 
 Emily ? Come, let me pour out some water for 
 you. When you have bathed your eyes "
 
 214 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 " I don't want any dinner." 
 
 " It will look very strange if you remain in 
 your room the whole evening. You do not 
 want to vex him, do you?" 
 
 "I suppose he is very angry with me. 
 But I did not mean to vex him. Is he very 
 angry?" 
 
 " No, he is not angry at all ; he is merely 
 distressed. You distress him dreadfully 
 when 
 
 "I don't know why I should distress him. 
 I'm sure I don't mean to. You know more 
 about it than I. You are always whispering 
 together talking about me." 
 
 "I assure you, Emily, you are mistaken. 
 Mr. Price and I have no secrets whatever." 
 
 " Why should you tell me these falsehoods ? 
 They make me so miserable." 
 
 " Falsehoods, Emily ! When did you ever 
 know me to tell a falsehood? " 
 
 "You say you have no secrets! Do you 
 think I am blind? You think, I suppose, 
 I did not see you showing him a ring ? You 
 took it off, too ; and I suppose you gave it to 
 him an engagement ring, very likely." 
 
 " I lost a stone from my ring, and I asked 
 Mr. Price if he would take the ring to London
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 215 ,-m 
 
 and have the stone replaced. . . . That is all. 
 So you see how your imagination has run 
 away with you." 
 
 Emily did not answer. At last she said, 
 breaking the silence abruptly : 
 
 "Is he very angry? Has he gone to his 
 study? Do you think he will come down to 
 dinner?" 
 
 " I suppose he'll come down for dinner." 
 
 "Will you go and ask him?" 
 
 " I hardly see how I can do that. He is 
 very busy. . . . And if you would listen to 
 any advice of mine, it would be to leave him 
 to himself as much as possible for the present. 
 He is so taken up with his play ; I know he's 
 most anxious about it." 
 
 "Is he? I don't know. He never speaks 
 to me about it. I hate that play, and I hate 
 to see him go up to that study ! I cannot 
 understand why he should trouble himself 
 about writing plays; he doesn't want the 
 money, and it can't be agreeable sitting up 
 there all alone thinking. ... It is easy to see 
 that it only makes him unhappy. But you 
 encourage him to go on with it. Oh, yes, you 
 do ; there's no use in saying you don't. You 
 are always talking to him about it ; you bring
 
 216 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 the conversation up. You think I don't see 
 how you do it, but T do ; and you like doing 
 it, because then you have him all to yourself. 
 I can't talk to him about that play; and I 
 wouldn't if I could, for it only makes him un- 
 happy. But you don't care whether he's un- 
 happy or not ; you think only of yourself." 
 
 "You surely don't believe what you are 
 saying is true ? To-morrow you will be sorry 
 for what you have said. You cannot think 
 that I would deceive you, Emily ? Remem- 
 ber what friends we have been." 
 
 "I remember everything. You think I. 
 don't; but I do. And you think also that 
 there's no reason why I should be miserable ; 
 but there is. Because you do not feel my 
 misery, you think it doesn't exist. I dare say 
 you think, too, that you are very good and 
 kind ; but you aren't. You think you deceive 
 me ; but you don't. I know all that is pass- 
 ing between you and Hubert I know a great 
 deal more than I can explain. . . ." 
 
 "But tell me, Emily, what is it you sus- 
 pect ? What do you accuse me of ? " 
 
 "I accuse you of nothing. Can't you un- 
 derstand that things may go wrong without 
 it being any one's fault in particular?"
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 217 
 
 Julia wondered how Emily could think so 
 wisely. She seemed to have grown wiser in 
 her grief. But grief helped her no further 
 in her instinctive perception of the truth, and 
 she resumed her puerile attack on her friend. 
 
 "Nothing has gone well with me ever since 
 you came here. I was disinherited ; and I 
 dare say you were glad, for you knew that if 
 the money did not come to me it would go to 
 Hubert, and I do know 
 
 "What are you saying, Emily? I never 
 heard of such wild accusations before ! You 
 know very well that I never set eyes on Mr. 
 Price until he came down here." 
 
 " How should I know what you know or 
 don't know? But I know that all my life 
 every one has been plotting against me. And 
 I cannot make out why. I never did harm to 
 any one." 
 
 The conversation paused. Emily flung her- 
 self back on the pillow. Not even a sob. The 
 candle burned like a long yellow star in the 
 shadows, yielding only sufficient light for 
 Julia to see the outlines of a somewhat untidy 
 room an old-fashioned mahogany wardrobe, 
 cloudy and black, upon old-fashioned gray 
 paper, some cardboard boxes, and a number of
 
 218 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 china ornaments, set out on a small table cov- 
 ered with a table-cloth in crewel work. 
 
 " I would do anything in the world for you, 
 Emily. I am your best friend, and yet 
 
 "I have no friend. I don't believe in 
 friends. You think people are your friends, 
 and then you find they are not." 
 
 " How can I convince you of the injustice 
 of your suspicions? " 
 
 "I see all plainly enough; it is fate, I 
 suppose. . . . Selfishness. We all think of 
 ourselves we can't help it ; and that's what 
 makes life so miserable. . . . He would 
 be a very good match. You have got him to 
 like you. Perhaps you didn't intend to ; but 
 you have done it all the same." 
 
 " But, Emily, dear, listen ! There is no 
 question of marriage between me and Mr. 
 Price. If you will only have patience, things 
 will come right in the end." 
 
 " For you, perhaps." 
 
 " Emily, Emily ! . . . You should try to 
 understand things better." 
 
 " I feel them, even if I don't understand." 
 
 " Admit that you were wrong about the 
 ring. Have I not convinced you that you 
 were wrong ? "
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 219 
 
 Emily did not answer. But at the end of a 
 long silence, in which she had been pursuing 
 a different train of thought, she said : " Then 
 you mean that he has never asked you to 
 marry him ? " 
 
 The directness of the question took Julia 
 by surprise, and, falsehood being unnatural to 
 her, she hesitated, hardly knowing what to 
 answer. Her hesitation was only momentary ; 
 but in that moment there came up such a 
 wave of pity for the grief-stricken girl that 
 she lied for pity's sake. " No, he never asked 
 me to marry him. I assure you that he never 
 
 did. If you do not believe me " As she 
 
 was about to say, "I will swear it if you 
 like,'.' an irresponsible sensation of pride in 
 her ownership of his love surged up through 
 her, overwhelming her will, and she ended 
 the sentence, " I am very sorry, but I cannot 
 help it." 
 
 The words were still well enough; it was in 
 the accent that the truth transpired. And 
 then yielding still further to the force which 
 had subjugated her will, she said : 
 
 "I admit that we have talked about a great 
 many things." (Again she strove not to 
 speak, but the words rose red-hot to her lips.)
 
 220 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 " He had said that he would like to marry, 
 but I should not think of accepting " 
 
 "Then it is just as I thought!" Emily 
 cried ; " he wants to get rid of me ! " 
 
 Julia was shocked and surprised at the 
 depth of disgraceful vanity and cowardice 
 which special circumstances had brought 
 within her consciousness. The Julia Bentley 
 of the last few moments was not the Julia 
 Bentley she was accustomed to meet and in- 
 terrogate, and she asked herself how she 
 might exorcise the meanness that had so un- 
 expectedly appeared in her. Should she pile 
 falsehood on falsehood ? She felt it would be 
 cruel not to do so ; but Emily said : " He wants 
 to marry to get rid of me, and not because he 
 loves you." Then it was hard to deny herself 
 the pleasure of telling the whole truth ; but she 
 mastered her desire of triumph, and actuated 
 by nothing but sincerest love and pity, she said : 
 
 " Oh, Emily, dear, he never asked me to 
 marry him ; he does not love me at all ! Why 
 will you not believe me ? " 
 
 " Because I cannot ! " she cried passion- 
 ately. " I only ask to be left alone." 
 
 " A little patience, Emily, and all will come 
 right. Mr. Price does not want to get rid of
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 221 
 
 you. You wrong him just as you wrong me. 
 He has often said how much he likes you ; 
 indeed he has." Although speaking from the 
 bottom of her heart, it seemed to Julia that 
 she was playing the part of a cruel, false 
 woman, who was designingly plotting to betray 
 a helpless girl ; and not understanding why 
 this was so, she was at once puzzled and con- 
 fused. It seemed to her that she was being 
 borne on in a wind of destiny, and her will 
 seemed to beat vainly against it, like a bird's 
 wings when a storm is blowing. She ,,was 
 conscious of a curious powerlessness ; it sur- 
 prised her, and she could not understand why 
 she continued talking, so vain and useless did 
 words seem to her an idle patter. She con- 
 tinued : 
 
 " You think that I stand between you and 
 Mr. Price. Now, I assure you that is not so. 
 I tell you I should refuse Mr. Price, even if he 
 were to ask me to marry him, here, at this 
 very moment. I pledge you my word on this. 
 Give me your hand, Emily. You will not 
 refuse it?" Emily gave her hand. "It is 
 quite ridiculous to promise, for he will never 
 ask me ; but I promise not to marry him even 
 if he should ask me." She gave the promise,
 
 222 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 determined to keep it ; and yet she knew she 
 would not keep it She argued passionately 
 with herself, a prey to an inward dread; for 
 no matter how firmly she forced resolution 
 upon resolution, they all seemed to melt in her 
 soul like snow on a blazing fire. Then, de- 
 termined to rid herself of a numb sensation of 
 powerlessness, and achieve the end she de- 
 sired, she said : " I'll tell you, Emily, what I'll 
 do. I'll not stay here ; I will go away. Let 
 me go away, dear, and then it will be all right." 
 
 "5To, no! you mustn't leave; I don't want 
 you to leave. It would be said everywhere 
 that I had sent you away. . . . You promise 
 me not to leave ? " Raising herself, Emily 
 clung to Julia's arm, detaining her until she 
 had extorted the desired promise. 
 
 "Very well; I promise," she said sadly. 
 " But I think you are wrong ; indeed I do. I 
 have always thought that ' the only solution of 
 the problem' was my departure." Memory 
 had betrayed her into Hubert's own phrase. 
 
 " Why should you go? You think, I sup- 
 pose, that I'm in love with Hubert? I'm 
 not. All I want is for things to go on just 
 the same for us to be friends as we were 
 before."
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 223 
 
 " Very well, Emily very well. . . . But 
 in the meantime you must not neglect your 
 meals as you have been doing lately. If you 
 don't take care you'll lose your health and 
 your looks. I have been noticing how thin 
 you are looking." 
 
 " I suppose you have told him that I am 
 looking thin and ill. . . . Men like tall, big, 
 healthy women like you don't they?" 
 
 " I see, Emily, that it is hopeless ; every 
 word one utters is misinterpreted. Dinner 
 will be ready in a few minutes ; or, if you 
 like, I will dine up-stairs ; and you and Mr. 
 Price 
 
 " But is he coming down to dinner ? I 
 thought you said he had gone to his study ; 
 sometimes he dines there." 
 
 " I can tell you nothing about Mr. Price. I 
 don't know whether he'll dine up-stairs or 
 down." 
 
 At that moment a knock was heard at the 
 door, and the servant announced that dinner 
 was ready. " Mr. Price has sent down word, 
 ma'am, that he is very busy writing ; he hopes 
 you'll excuse him, and he'll be glad if you 
 will send him his dinner up on a tray." 
 
 " Very well ; I shall be down directly."
 
 224 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 The slight interruption had sufficed to calm 
 Julia's irritation, and she stood waiting for 
 Emily. But seeing that she showed no signs 
 of moving, she said : " Aren't you coming 
 down to dinner, Emily ? " It was a sense of 
 strict duty that impelled the question, for her 
 heart sank at the prospect of spending the 
 evening alone with the girl. But seeing the 
 tears on Emily's cheeks, she sat down beside 
 her, and said: "Dearest Emily, if you would 
 only confide in me ! " 
 
 " There's nothing to confide. . . ." 
 
 " You mustn't give way like this ; you 
 really mustn't. Come down and have some 
 dinner." 
 
 " It is no use ; I couldn't eat anything." 
 
 "He may come into the drawing-room in 
 the course of the evening, and will be so dis- 
 appointed and grieved to hear that you have 
 not been down." 
 
 "No; he will spend the whole evening in 
 his room ; we shall not see him again." 
 
 " But if I go and ask him to come ; if I tell 
 him- 
 
 " No ; do not speak to him about me ; he'd 
 only say that I was interfering with his work." 
 
 "That is unjust, Emily; he has never re-
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 225 
 
 preached you with interfering with his work. 
 Shall I go and tell him that you won't come 
 down because you think he is angry with 
 you ? " 
 
 Ten minutes passed, and no answer could 
 be obtained from Emily only passionate and 
 illusive refusals, denials, prayer to be left 
 alone ; and these mingled with irritating sug- 
 gestions that Julia had better go at once, that 
 Hubert might be waiting for her. But Julia 
 bore patiently with her, and did not leave her 
 until Hubert sent to know why his dinner 
 was delayed. 
 
 Emily had begun to undress ; and, tearing 
 off her things, she hardly took more than five 
 minutes to get into bed. 
 
 " Shall I light a candle ? " Julia asked before 
 leaving. 
 
 " No, thank you." 
 
 " Shall I send you up some soup ? " 
 
 " No ; I could not touch it" 
 
 " You are not going to remain in the dark ? 
 Let me light a night-light ? " 
 
 " No, thank you; I like the dark." 
 15
 
 CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 HUBERT and Mrs. Bentley stood by the chim- 
 ney-piece in the drawing-room, waiting for the 
 doctor ; they had left him with Emily, and 
 stood facing each other, absorbed in thought, 
 when the door opened, and the doctor entered. 
 Hubert said : 
 
 " What do you think, doctor ? Is she seri- 
 ously ill?" 
 
 " There is nothing, so far as I can make out, 
 organically the matter with her, but the sys- 
 tem is running down. She is very thin and 
 weak. I shall prescribe a tonic, but " 
 
 "But what, doctor?" 
 
 "She seems to be suffering from extreme 
 depression of spirits. Do you know of any 
 secret grief any love affair? At her age, 
 anything of that sort fills the entire mind, 
 and the consequences are often grave." 
 
 "And supposing it were so, what would be 
 your advice ? Change of air and scene ? " 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " Have you spoken to her on the subject ? "
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 227 
 
 " Yes ; but she says she will not leave Ash- 
 wood." 
 
 " We cannot send her away by force. What 
 would you advise us to do ? " 
 
 " There's nothing to be done. We must 
 hope for the best There is no immediate 
 cause for fear. . . . But, by the way, she 
 looks as if she suffered from sleeplessness." 
 
 " Yes, she does ; but she has been ordered 
 chloral. Any harm in that ? " 
 
 " In her case, it is a necessity ; but do you 
 think she takes it ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, she has been taking chloral." 
 
 The conversation paused ; the doctor went 
 over to the writing-table, wrote a prescription, 
 made a few remarks, and took his leave, 
 announcing his intention of returning that 
 day fortnight. 
 
 Hubert said, and his tone implied reference 
 to some anterior conversation, " We are power- 
 less in this matter. You see we can do noth- 
 ing. We only succeed in making ourselves 
 unhappy ; we do not change in anything. I 
 am wretchedly unhappy ! " 
 
 " Believe me," she said, raising her arms in 
 a beautiful feminine movement, "I do not 
 wish to make you unhappy."
 
 228 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 " Then why do you persist ? Why do you 
 refuse to take the only step that may lead us 
 out of this difficulty ? " 
 
 " How can you ask me ? Oh, Hubert, I 
 did not think you could be so cruel ! It would 
 be a shameful action." 
 
 It was the first time she had used his Chris- 
 tian name, and his face changed expression, 
 
 " I cannot," she said, " and I will not; and 
 I do not understand how you can ask me 
 you who are so loyal, how can you ask me to 
 be disloyal ? " 
 
 " Spare me your reproaches. Fate has been 
 cruel. I have never told you the story of 
 my life. I have suffered deeply ; my pride 
 has been humiliated, and I have endured hun- 
 ger and cold ; but those sufferings were light 
 compared to this last misfortune." 
 
 She looked at him with sublime pity in 
 her eyes. " I do not conceal from you," 
 she said, " that I love you very much. I, too, 
 have suffered, and I had thought for one 
 moment that fate had vouchsafed me happi- 
 ness ; but, as you would say the irony of 
 life ! " 
 
 " Julia, do not say you never will ? " 
 
 " We cannot look into the futura But
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 229 
 
 this I can say I will not do Emily any 
 wrong, and so far as is in my power I will 
 avoid giving her pain. There is only one 
 way out of this difficulty. I must leave 
 this house as soon as I can persuade her to 
 let me go." 
 
 The door opened; involuntarily the speak- 
 ers moved apart ; and though their faces and 
 attitudes were strictly composed when Emily 
 entered, she knew they had been standing 
 closer together. 
 
 " I'm afraid I'm interrupting you," she 
 said. 
 
 " No, Emily ; pray do not go away. We 
 were only talking about you." 
 
 "If I were to leave every time you begin 
 to talk about me, I should spend my life in 
 my room. I dare say you have many faults 
 to find. Let me hear all about your fresh 
 discoveries." 
 
 It was a thin November day : leaves were 
 whirling on the lawn, and at that moment 
 one blew rustling down the window-pane. 
 And, even as it, she seemed a passing thing. 
 Her face was like a plate of fine white porce- 
 lain, and the deep eyes filled it with a strange 
 and magnetic pathos ; the abundant chestnut
 
 230 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 hair hung in the precarious support of a thin 
 tortoise shell; and there was something 
 unforgetable in the manner in which her 
 aversion for the elder woman betrayed itself 
 a mere nothing, and yet more impressive 
 than any more obvious and therefore more 
 vulgar expression of dislike would have been. 
 
 " A little patience, Emily. You will not 
 have me here much longer." 
 
 " I suppose that I am so disagreeable that 
 you cannot live with me. Why should you 
 go away ? " 
 
 "My dear Emily, you must not excite 
 yourself. The doctor " 
 
 "I want to know why she said she was 
 going to leave. Has she been complaining 
 about me to you ? What is her reason for 
 wanting to go ? " 
 
 " We do not get on together as we used to 
 that is all, Emily. I can please you no 
 longer." 
 
 " It is not my fault if we do not get on. 
 I don't see why we shouldn't, and I do not 
 want you to go." 
 
 " Emily, dear, everything shall be as you 
 like it." 
 
 The girl looked at him with the shy, doubt-
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 231 
 
 ing look of an animal that would like, and 
 still does not dare, to go to the beckoning hand. 
 How frail seemed the body in the black 
 dress ! and how thin the 'arms in the black 
 sleeves ! Hubert took the little hand in his. 
 At his touch a look of content and rest 
 passed into her eyes, and she yielded herself 
 as the leaf yields to the wind. She was all 
 his when he chose. Mrs. Bentley left the 
 room ; and, seeing her go, a light of sudden 
 joy illuminated the thin, pale face ; and when 
 the door closed, and she was alone. with him, 
 the bleak, unhappy look, which had lately 
 grown strangely habitual to her, faded out of 
 her face and eyes. He fetched her shawl, and 
 took her hand again in his, knowing that by 
 so doing he made her happy. He could not 
 refuse her the peace from pain that these 
 attentions brought her, though he would have 
 held himself aloof from all women but one. 
 She knew the truth well enough ; but they 
 who suffer much think only of the cessation 
 of pain. He wondered at the inveigling con- 
 tent that introduced itself into her voice, face, 
 and gesture. Settling herself comfortably on 
 the sofa, she said : 
 
 " Now tell me what the doctor said. Did
 
 232 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 he say I would soon recover ? Did he say 
 that I was very bad ? Tell me all." 
 
 " He said that you ought to have a change 
 that you should go south somewhere." 
 
 " And you agree with him that I ought to 
 go away ? " 
 
 " Is he not the best judge ? the doctor's 
 orders ! " 
 
 " Then you, too, have learnt to hate me. 
 You, too, want to send me away ? " 
 
 " My dear Emily, I only want to do as you 
 like. You asked me what the doctor said, 
 and I told you." 
 
 Hubert got up and walked aside. He 
 passed his hand across his eyes. He could 
 hardly contain himself ; the emotion that dis- 
 cussion with this sick girl caused him went 
 to his head. She looked at him curiously, 
 watching his movement, and he failed to 
 understand what pleasure it could give her to 
 have him by her side, knowing, as she clearly 
 did, that his heart was elsewhere. Turning 
 suddenly, he said : 
 
 " But tell me, Emily, how are you feeling ? 
 You are, after all, the best judge." 
 
 "I feel rather weak. I should get strong 
 enough if
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 233 
 
 She paused, as if waiting for Hubert to ask 
 her to finish the sentence. But he hurriedly 
 turned the conversation. 
 
 " The doctor said you looked as if you had 
 not had any sleep for several nights. I told 
 him that that was strange, for you were tak- 
 ing chloral." 
 
 " I sleep well enough," she said. " But 
 sometimes life seems so sad that I do not 
 think I shall be able to bear with it any 
 longer. You do not know how unfortunate 
 I have been. When I was a child, father and 
 mother used to quarrel always, and I was the 
 only child. That was why Mr. Burnett 
 asked me to come and live at Ashwood. I 
 came at first on a visit ; and when father and 
 mother died, he said he wished to adopt me. 
 I thought he loved me ; but his love was only 
 selfishness. No one has ever loved me. I 
 feel so utterly alone in this world that is 
 why I am unhappy." 
 
 Her eyes filled with tears, and at the sight 
 of her tears Hubert's feelings were over- 
 wrought, and again he had to walk aside. 
 He would give her all things ; but she was 
 dying for him, and he could not save her. 
 No longer was there any disguisement between
 
 234 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 them. The words they uttered were as 
 nothing, so clearly did the thought shine out 
 of their eyes, " I am dying of love for you," 
 and then the answer, " I know that is so, and 
 I cannot help it." Her whole soul was 
 spoken in her eyes, and he felt that his eyes 
 betrayed him-equally plainly. They stood in 
 a sort of mental nakedness. The woman no 
 longer sought for words to cover herself with ; 
 the man did, but he did not find them. They 
 had not spoken for some time; they had 
 been thinking of each other. At last she 
 said, and with the querulous perversity of 
 the sick : 
 
 " But even if I wished to go abroad, with 
 whom could I go ? " 
 
 Hubert fell into the trap, and, noticing the 
 sudden brightness in his eyes, a cloud of dis- 
 appointment shadowed hers. " Of course, 
 with Mrs. Bentley. I assure you, my dear 
 Emily, that you " 
 
 " No, no, I am not mistaken ! She hates 
 me, and I cannot bear her. It is she who is 
 making me ill." 
 
 " Hate you ! Why should she hate you ? " 
 
 Emily did not reply. Hubert watched her, 
 noticing the pallor of her cheek, so entirely
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 235 
 
 white and blue, hardly a touch of warm color 
 anywhere, even in the shadow of the heavy 
 hair. 
 
 " I would give anything to see you friends 
 again." 
 
 " That is impossible ! I can never be friends 
 with Julia as I once was. She has No, 
 never can we be friends again. But why 
 do you always take her part against me? 
 That is what grieves me most If only you 
 thought " 
 
 " Emily, dear, these are but idle fancies. 
 You are mistaken." 
 
 The conversation fell. The girl lay quite 
 still, her hands clasped across the shawl, her 
 little foot stretched beyond the limp black 
 dress, the hem of which fell orer the edge of 
 the gray sofa. Hubert sat by her on a low 
 chair, and he looked into the fire, whose light 
 wavered over the walls, now and again bring- 
 ing the face of one of the pictures out of the 
 darkness. The wind whined about the win- 
 dows. Then, speaking as if out of a dream, 
 Emily said : 
 
 "Julia and I can never be friends again 
 that is impossible." 
 
 " But what has she done? " Hubert asked
 
 236 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 incautiously, regretting his words as soon as 
 he had uttered them. 
 
 " What has she done ? " she said, looking 
 at him curiously. " Well, one thing, she has 
 got it reported that that I am in love with 
 you, and that that is the reason of my ill- 
 ness." 
 
 "I am sure she never said any such thing. 
 You are entirely mistaken. Mrs. Bentley is 
 incapable of such wickedness." 
 
 "A woman, when she is jealous, will say 
 anything. If she did not say it, can you tell 
 me how it got about ? " 
 
 " I don't believe any one ever said such a 
 thing." 
 
 " Oh, yes, lots have said so things come 
 back to me. Julia always was jealous of me. 
 She cannot bear me to speak to you. Have 
 you not noticed how she follows us? Do 
 you think she would have left the room just 
 now if she could have helped it?" 
 
 " If you think this is so, had she not bet- 
 ter leave ? " 
 
 Emily did not answer at once. Motionless 
 she lay on the sofa, looking at the gray 
 November day with vague eyes that bespoke 
 an obsession of hallucination. Suddenly she
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 237 
 
 said : " I do not want her to go away. She 
 would spread a report that I was jealous of 
 her, and had asked you to send her away. 
 No, it would not be wise to send her away. 
 Besides," she said, fixing her eyes, now full 
 of melancholy reproach, " you would like her 
 to remain." 
 
 " I have said before, Emily, and I assure 
 you I am speaking the truth, I want you to 
 do what you like. Say what you wish to be 
 done, and it shall be done." 
 
 " Is that really true ? I thought no one 
 cared for me. You must care for me a little 
 to speak like that." 
 
 " Of course I care for you, Emily." 
 
 " I sometimes think you might have if it 
 had not been for that play ; for, of course, I'm 
 not clever, and cannot discuss it with you. 
 . . . Julia, I suppose, can that is the rea- 
 son why you like her. Am I not right ? " 
 
 " Mrs. Bentley is a clever woman, who has 
 read a great deal, and I like to talk an act 
 over with her before I write it." 
 
 " Is that all ? Then why do people say 
 you are going to marry her ? " 
 
 " But nobody ever said so." 
 
 " Oh yes, they have. Is it true? "
 
 238 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 " No, Emily ; it is not true." 
 
 " Are you quite sure ? " 
 
 " Yes, quite sure." 
 
 " If that is so," she said, turning her eyes 
 on Hubert, and looking as if she could see 
 right down into his soul, " I shall get well 
 very soon. Then we can go on just the same; 
 but if you married her, I " 
 
 "I what?" 
 
 " Nothing ! I feel quite happy now. I 
 did not want you to marry her. I could not 
 bear it It would be like having a step- 
 mother worse, for she would not have me 
 here at all ; she would drive me away." 
 
 Hubert shook his head. 
 
 "You don't know Julia as well as I do. 
 However, it is no use discussing what is not 
 going to be. You have been very nice to-day. 
 If you would be always nice as you are to- 
 day, I should soon get well." 
 
 Her pale profile seemed very sharp in the 
 fading twilight, and her delicate arms and 
 thin bosom were full of the charm and fas- 
 cination of deciduous things. She turned her 
 face and looked at Hubert "You have made 
 me very happy. I am content" 
 
 He was afraid to look back at her, lest she
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 239 
 
 should, in her subtle, wilful manner, read the 
 thought that was passing in his soul. Even 
 now she seemed to read it. She seemed con- 
 scious of his pity for her. So little would 
 give her happiness, and that little was im- 
 possible. His heart was irreparably another's. 
 But though Emily's eyes seemed to know all, 
 they seemed to say, " What matter? I regret 
 nothing, only let things remain as they are." 
 And then her voice said : 
 
 " I think I could sleep a little ; happiness 
 has brought me sleep. Don't go away. I 
 shall not be asleep long." She looked at 
 him, and dozed, and then fell asleep. Hubert 
 waited till her breathing grew deeper ; then 
 he laid the hand he held in his by her side, 
 and stole on tiptoe from the room. 
 
 The strain of the interview had become too 
 intense ; the house was unbearable. He went 
 into the air. The November sky was draw- 
 ing into wintry night ; the gray clouds dark- 
 ened, clinging round the long plain, over- 
 shadowing it, blotting out color, leaving 
 nothing but the severe green of the park, 
 and the yellow whirling of dishevelled woods. 
 
 "I must," he said to himself, "think no 
 more about it I shall go mad if I do. Na-
 
 240 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 ture will find her own solution. God grant 
 that it may be a merciful one ! I can do 
 nothing." And to escape from useless con- 
 sideration, to release his overwrought brain, 
 he hastened his steps, extending his walk 
 through the farthest woods. As he ap- 
 proached the lodge gate he came upon Mrs. 
 Bentley. She stood, her back turned from 
 him, leaning on the gate, her thoughts lost 
 in the long darkness of autumnal fields and 
 woods. 
 
 "Julia!" 
 
 " You have left Emily. How did you leave 
 her?" 
 
 "She is fast asleep on the sofa. She fell 
 asleep. Then why should I remain ? The 
 house was unbearable. She went to sleep, 
 saying she felt very happy." 
 
 " Really ! What induced such a change in 
 her ? Did you " 
 
 " No, I did not ask her to marry me ; but 
 I was able to tell her that I was not going to 
 marry you, and that seemed entirely to satisfy 
 her." 
 
 " Did she ask you ? " 
 
 " Yes. And when I told her I was not, she 
 said that that was all she wanted to know that
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 241 
 
 she would soon get well now. How we human 
 beings thrive in each other's unhappiness ! " 
 
 " Quite true, and we have been reproaching 
 ourselves for our selfishness." 
 
 "Yes, and hers is infinitely greater. She 
 is quite satisfied not to be happy herself, so 
 long as she can make sure of our unhappiness. 
 And what is so strange is her utter uncon- 
 sciousness of her own fantastic and hardly 
 conceivable selfishness. ... It is astonish- 
 ing!" 
 
 u She is very young, and the young are 
 naturally egotistic." 
 
 " Possibly. Still, it is hardly more agree- 
 able to encounter. Come, let's go for a walk ; 
 and, above all things, let's talk no more about 
 Emily." 
 
 The roads were greasy, and the hedges were 
 torn and worn with incipient winter, and when 
 they dipped the town appeared, a reddish- 
 brown mass in the blue landscape. Hubert 
 thought of his play and his love ; but not sep- 
 arately they seemed to him now as one in- 
 dissoluble, indivisible thing : and he told her 
 that he never would be able to write it with- 
 out her assistance. That she might be of use 
 to him in his work was singularly sweet to 
 16
 
 242 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 hear, and the thought reached to the end of 
 her heart, causing her to smile sadly, and argue 
 vainly, and him to reply querulously. They 
 walked for about a mile; and then, wearied 
 with sad expostulation, the conversation fell, 
 and at the end of a long silence Julia said : 
 
 " I think we had better turn back." 
 
 The suggestion filled Hubert's heart with 
 rushing pain, and he answered : 
 
 " Why should we return ? I cannot go back 
 to that girl. Oh, the miserable life we are 
 leading !" 
 
 "What can we do? We must go back; 
 we cannot live in a tent by the wayside. We 
 have no tent to set up." 
 
 " Come to London and be my wife." 
 
 " No," she said ; " that is impossible. Let 
 us not speak of it." 
 
 Hubert did not answer ; and turning their 
 faces homeward, they walked some way in 
 silence. Suddenly Hubert said : 
 
 " No, it is impossible. I cannot return. 
 There is no use. I'm at the end of my 
 tether. I cannot." 
 
 She looked at him in alarm. 
 
 " Hubert," she said, " this is folly ! I can- 
 not return without you."
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 243 
 
 " You ruin my life ; you refuse me the only 
 happiness. I'm more wretched than I can 
 tell you ! " 
 
 " And I ! Do you think that I'm not wretch- 
 ed ? " She raised her face to his ; her eyes 
 were full of tears. He caught her in his arms 
 and kissed her. The warm touch of her lips, 
 the scent of her face and hair, banished all 
 but desire of her. 
 
 li You must come with me, Julia. I shall 
 go mad if you don't. I can care for no one 
 but you. All my life is in you now. You 
 know I cannot love that girl, and we cannot 
 continue in this wretched life. There is no 
 sense in it ; it is a voluntary, senseless martyr- 
 dom!" 
 
 "Hubert, do not tempt me to be disloyal to 
 my friend. It is cruel of you, for you know 
 I love you. But no, nothing shall tempt me. 
 How can I? We do not know what might 
 happen. The shock might kill her. She 
 might do away with herself." 
 
 " You must come with me," said Hubert, 
 now completely lost in his passion. " Noth- 
 ing will happen. Girls do not do away with 
 themselves; girls do not die of broken hearts. 
 Nothing happens in these days. A few more
 
 244 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 tears will be shed, and she will soon become 
 reconciled to what cannot be altered. A year 
 or so after, we will marry her to a nice young 
 man, and she will settle down a quiet moth- 
 er of children." 
 
 "Perhaps you are right." 
 
 An empty fly, returning to the town, passed 
 them. The fly-man raised his whip. 
 
 " Take you to the railway station in ten 
 minutes ? " 
 
 Hubert spoke quietly ; nevertheless there 
 was a strange nervousness in his eyes when 
 he said : 
 
 " Fate comes to help me ; she offers us 
 the means of escape. You will not refuse, 
 Julia?" 
 
 Her upraised face was full of doubt and 
 pain, and she was perplexed by the fly-man's 
 dull eyes, his starved horse, his ramshackle 
 vehicle, the wet road, the leaden sky. It was 
 one of those moments when the familiar ap- 
 pears strange and grotesque. Then, gathering 
 all her resolution, she said : 
 
 " No, no ; it is impossible ! Come back, 
 come back." 
 
 He caught her arm : quietly and firmly he 
 led her across the road. " You must listen to
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 245 
 
 ma . . . We are about to take a decisive 
 step. Are you sure that " 
 
 " No, no, Hubert, I cannot ; let us return 
 home." 
 
 "I go back to Ash wood ! If I did I should 
 commit suicide." 
 
 " Don't speak like that. . . . Where will 
 you go?" 
 
 " I shall travel. ... I shall visit Italy 
 and Greece. ... I shall live abroad." 
 
 " You are not serious ? " 
 
 "Yes, I am, Julia. That cab may not 
 take both, but it will certainly take one of 
 us away from Ashwood, and forever." 
 
 "Take you to South Water, sir take you 
 to the station in ten minutes," said the fly- 
 man, pulling in his horse. A zig-zag fugitive 
 thought passed : why did the fly-man speak 
 of taking them to the station ? How was it 
 that he knew where they wanted to go ? They 
 stopped and wondered. The poor horse's 
 bones stood out in strange projections, the 
 round-shouldered little fly-man sat grinning 
 on his box, showing three long yellow fangs. 
 The vehicle, the horse, and the man, his arm 
 raised in questioning gesture, appeared in 
 strange silhouette upon the gray clouds, as-
 
 246 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 surning portentous aspect in their tremulous 
 and excited imaginations. " Take you to 
 South Water in ten minutes ! " The voice 
 of the fly-man sounded hard, grating, and de- 
 risive in their ears. 
 
 He had stopped in the middle of the road, 
 and they walked slowly past, through a great 
 puddle, which drenched their feet. 
 
 " Get in, Julia. Shall I open the door? " 
 
 " No, no ; think of Emily. I cannot, Hu- 
 bert I cannot ; it would kill her." 
 
 The conversation paused, and in a long 
 silence they wondered if the fly-man had 
 heard. Then they walked several yards, lis- 
 tening to the tramp of the hoofs, and then 
 they heard the fly-man strike his horse with 
 the whip. The animal shuffled into a sort of 
 trot, and as the carriage passed them the fly- 
 man again raised his arm and again repeated 
 the same phrase, " Drive you to the station in 
 ten minutes ! " The carriage was her tempta- 
 tion, and Julia hoped the man would linger 
 no longer. For the promise she had given to 
 Emily lay like a red-hot coal upon her heart; 
 its fumes rose to her head, and there were 
 times when she thought they would choke her, 
 and she grew so sick with the pain of self-
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 247 
 
 denial that she could have thrown herself 
 down in the wet grass on the roadside, and 
 laid her face on the cold earth for relief. 
 Would nothing happen ? What madness ! 
 Night was coming on, and still they followed 
 the road to South Water. Rain fell in heavy 
 drops. 
 
 "We shall get wet," she murmured, as if 
 she were answering the fly-man, who had said 
 again, " Drive you to the station in ten min- 
 utes ! " She hated the man for his persist- 
 ency. 
 
 " Say you will come with me ! " Hubert 
 whispered ; and all the while the rain came 
 down heavier. 
 
 " No, no, Hubert. ... I cannot ; I prom- 
 ised Emily that I never would. I am going 
 back." 
 
 " Then we must say good-by. I will not 
 go back." 
 
 " You don't mean it. You don't really in- 
 tend me to go back to Emily and tell her? 
 . . . She will not believe me ; she will think 
 I have sent you away to gain my own end. 
 Hubert, you mustn't leave me . . . and in all 
 this wet. See how it rains. I shall never be 
 able to get home alone."
 
 248 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 " I will drive you on as far as the lodge 
 gate; further than the lodge I will not go. 
 Nothing in the world shall tempt me to pass 
 it." 
 
 At a sign from Hubert the little fly-man 
 scrambled down from his box. He was a lit- 
 tle old man, almost hunchbacked, with small, 
 mud-colored eyes and a fringe of white beard 
 about his sallow, discolored face. He was 
 dressed in a pale-yellow jacket and waistcoat, 
 and they both noticed that his crooked little 
 legs were covered with a pair of pepper-and- 
 salt trousers. They felt sure he must have 
 overheard a large part of their conversation, 
 for as he opened the carriage door he grinned, 
 showing his three yellow fangs. . . . His 
 appearance was not encouragi ng. Julia wished 
 he were different, and then she looked at Hu- 
 bert. She longed to throw herself into his 
 arms and weep. But at that moment the 
 heavens seemed to open, and the rain came 
 down like a torrent, thick and fast, splashing 
 all along the road in a million splashes. 
 
 "Horrible weather, sir; sha'n't be long 
 a-takin' you to South Water. What part of 
 the town be yer going to the railway sta- 
 tion?"
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 249 
 
 Julia still hesitated. The rain beat on their 
 faces, and when some chilling drops rolled 
 down her neck she instinctively sought shel- 
 ter in the carriage. 
 
 " Drive me to the station as fast as you can. 
 Catch the half-past five to London, and I'll 
 give you five shillings." 
 
 The leather thong sounded on the starved 
 animal's hide, the crazy vehicle rocked from 
 side to side, and the wet country almost dis- 
 appeared in the darkness. Hedges and fields 
 swept past them in faintest outline, here and 
 there a blurred mass, which they recognized 
 as a farm building. His arm was about her, 
 and she heard him murmur over and over 
 again : 
 
 " Dearest Julia, you are what I love best in 
 the world." 
 
 The words thrilled her a little, but all the 
 while she saw Emily's eyes and heard her 
 voice. 
 
 Hubert, however, was full of happiness 
 the sweet happiness of the quiet, docile creat- 
 ure that has at last obtained what it loves.
 
 CHAPTER XY. 
 
 EMILY awoke shivering ; the fire had gone 
 out, the room was in darkness, and the house 
 seemed strange and lonely. She rang the 
 bell, and asked the servant if he had seen Mr. 
 Price. Mr. Price had gone out late in the 
 afternoon and had not come in. Where was 
 Mrs. Bentley ? Mrs. Bentley had gone out 
 earlier in the afternoon and had not come in. 
 
 She suspected the truth at once. They had 
 gone to London to be married. The servant 
 lighted a candle, made up the fire, and asked 
 if she would wait dinner. Emily made no 
 answer, but sat still, her eyes fixed, looking 
 into space. The man lingered at the door. 
 At that moment her little dog bounded into the 
 room, and, in a paroxysm of delight, jumped 
 on his mistress's lap. She took him in her 
 arms and kissed him, and this somewhat reas- 
 sured the alarmed servant, who then thought 
 it was no more than one of Miss Emily's queer 
 ways. Dandy licked his mistress's face, and 
 rubbed his rough head against her shoulder.
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 251 
 
 He seemed more than usually affectionate that 
 evening. Suddenly she caught him up in her 
 arms and kissed him passionately. " Not even 
 for your sake, dearest Dandy, can I bear with 
 it any longer ! "We are all very selfish, and 
 it is selfish of me to leave you, but I cannot 
 help it' 1 Then a doubt crossed her mind, 
 and she raised her head and listened to it. It 
 seemed difficult to believe that he had told 
 her a falsehood a cruel, wicked falsehood 
 he who had been so kind. And yet Ah ! 
 yes, she knew well enough that it was all 
 true ; something told her so. The lancinating 
 pain of doubt passed away, and she remained 
 thinking of the impossibility of bearing any 
 longer with her life. 
 
 An hour passed, and the servant came with 
 the news that Mr. Price and Mrs. Bentley had 
 gone to London ; they had taken the half-past 
 five train. " Yes," she said, " I know they 
 have." Her voice was calm. There was a 
 strange, hollow ring in it, and the servant 
 wondered. A few minutes after dinner was 
 announced; and to escape observation and 
 comment she went into the dining-roorn, tasted 
 the soup, and took a slice of mutton on her 
 plate. She could not eat it She gave it to
 
 252 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 Dandy. It was the last time she should feed 
 him. How hungry he was ! She hoped he 
 would not care to eat it; he would not if he 
 knew she was going to leave him. 
 
 In the drawing-room he insisted on being 
 nursed ; and alone, amid the faded furniture 
 watched over by the old portraits, her pale face 
 fixed and her pale hands clasping her beloved 
 dog, she sat thinking, brooding over the un- 
 happiness, the incurable unhappiness, of her 
 little life. She was absorbed in self, and did 
 not rail against Hubert, or even Julia. Their 
 personalities had somehow dropped out of her 
 mind, and merely represented forces against 
 which she found herself unable any longer to 
 contend. Nor was she surprised at what had 
 happened. There had always been in her 
 some prescience of her fate. She and un- 
 happiuess had always seemed so inseparable 
 that she had never found it difficult to believe 
 that this last misfortune would befall her. 
 She had thought it over, and had decided that 
 it would be unendurable to live any longer, 
 and had borne many a terrible insomnia so 
 that she might collect sufficient chloral to take 
 her out of her misery ; and now, as she sat 
 thinking, she remembered that she had never,
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 253 
 
 never been nappy. Oh ! the miserable even- 
 ings she used to spend when a child between 
 her father and mother, who could not agree 
 why, she never understood. But she used to 
 have to listen to one of them addressing in- 
 sulting speeches to the other in a calm, even 
 voice that nothing could alter; and, though 
 both were dead and years divided her from 
 that time, the memory survived, and she could 
 see it all again that room, the very paper on 
 the wall, and her father being gradually 
 worked up into a frenzy. 
 
 When she was left an orphan, Mr. Burnett 
 had adopted her, and she remembered the joy 
 of coming to Ashwood. She had thought to 
 find happiness there; but there, as at home, 
 fate had gone against her, and she was hardly 
 eighteen when Mr. Burnett had asked her to 
 marry him. She had loved that old man, but 
 he had not loved her ; for when she had re- 
 fused to marry him he had broken all his 
 promises and left her penniless, careless of what 
 might become of her. Then she had given her 
 whole heart to Julia, and Julia, too, had de- 
 ceived her. And had she not loved Hubert ? 
 no one would ever know how much ; she did 
 not know herself and had he not lied to
 
 254 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 her ? Oh, it was very cruel to deceive a poof 
 little girl in this heartless way ! There was no 
 heart in the world, that was it and she was 
 all heart ; and her heart had been trampled on 
 ever since she could remember. And when 
 they came back they would revenge them- 
 selves upon her insult her with their happi- 
 ness ; perhaps insist on sending her away. 
 
 Dandy drowsed on her lap. The servant 
 brought in the tea, and when he returned to 
 the kitchen he said he had never seen any one 
 look so ghost-like as Miss Emily. The clock 
 ticked loudly in the silence of the old room, 
 the hands moving slowly toward ten. She 
 waited for the hour to strike ; it was then that 
 she usually went to bed. Her thoughts moved 
 as in a nightmare ; and paramount in this 
 chaotic mass of sensation was an acute sense 
 of the deception that had been practised on 
 her ; with the consciousness, now firm and un- 
 alterable, that it had become impossible for 
 her to live. When the clock struck she got 
 up from her chair, and the movement seemed 
 to react on her brain ; her thoughts unclouded, 
 and she went up-stairs thinking clearly of her 
 love of this old house. The old gentleman in 
 the red coat, his hand on his sword, looked on
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 255 
 
 her benignly ; and the lady playing the spinet 
 smiled as sweetly as was her wont. Emily 
 held up the candle to the picture of the wind- 
 mill. She had always loved that picture, and 
 the sad thought came that she should never 
 see it again. Dandy, who had galloped up- 
 stairs, stood looking through the banisters, 
 wagging his tail. 
 
 The moment she got into her room she 
 wrote the following note : " I have taken an 
 overdose of chloral. My life was too miser- 
 able to be borne any longer. I forgive those 
 who have caused my unhappiness, and I hope 
 they will forgive me any unhappiness I have 
 caused them." They were nothing to her 
 now ; they were beyond her hate, and the only 
 pang she felt was parting with her beloved 
 Dandy. There he stood looking at her, stand- 
 ing on the edge of the bed, waiting for her to 
 cover him up and put him to sleep in his own 
 corner. " Yes, Dandy, in a moment, dear 
 have patience." She looked round the little 
 room, and, remembering all that she had 
 suffered there, thought that the walls must be 
 saturated with grief, like a sponge. 
 
 It was a common thing at that time for her 
 to stand before the glass and address such
 
 256 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 words as these to herself : " My poor girl, how 
 I pity you ! how I pity you ! " And now, 
 looking at herself very sadly, she said : " My 
 poor girl, I shall never pity you an} 7 more! " 
 Having hung up her dress, she fetched a chair 
 and took various doses of choral out of the 
 hollow top of her wardrobe, where she had 
 hidden things all her life sweets, novels, fire- 
 works. They more than half-filled the tum- 
 bler ; and, looking at the sticky white liquid, 
 she thought with repugnance of drinking so 
 much of it. But, wanting to make quite sure 
 of death, she resolved to take it all, and she 
 undressed quickly. She was very cold when 
 she got into bed. Then a thought struck 
 her, and she got of bed to add a postscript to 
 her letter. " I have only one request to make, 
 I hope Dandy will always be taken care of." 
 Surprised that she had not wrapped him up 
 and told him he was to go to sleep, the dog 
 stood on the edge of the bed, watching her so 
 earnestly that she wondered if he knew what 
 she was going to do. " No, you don't know, 
 dear do you ? If you did, you wouldn't let 
 me do it ; you'd bark the house down, I know 
 you would, my own darling." Clasping him 
 to her breast, she smothered him with kisses
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 257 
 
 then put him away in his corner, covering 
 him over for the night. 
 
 She felt neither grief nor fear. Through 
 much suffering, thought and sensation were, 
 to a great extent, dead in her ; and, in a sort 
 of emotive numbness, she laid her candlestick 
 in its usual place on the chair by her bedside; 
 and, sitting up in bed, her night-dress care- 
 fully buttoned, holding the tumbler half-filled 
 with chloral, she tried to take a dispassionate 
 survey of her life. She thought of what she 
 had endured, and what she would have to 
 endure if she did not take it. Then she felt 
 she must go, and without hesitation drank off 
 the chloral. She placed the tumbler by the 
 candlestick, and lay down, remembering 
 vaguely that a long time ago she had decided 
 that suicide was not wrong in 'itself. The 
 last thing she remembered was the clock 
 striking eleven. 
 
 For half an hour she slept like stone. 
 Then her eyes opened, and they told of sick- 
 ness now in motion within her. And, strangely 
 enough, through the overpowering nausea 
 rising from her stomach to her brain, the 
 thought that she was not going to die 
 appeared perfectly clear, and with it a sense 
 17
 
 258 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 of disappointment ; she would have to begin 
 it all over again. It was with great difficulty 
 that she struck a match and lighted a candle. 
 It seemed impossible to get up. At last she 
 managed to slip her legs out of bed, and 
 found she could stand, and through the various 
 assaults of retching she thought of the letter : 
 it must be destroyed ; and, leaning in the 
 corner against the wall and the wardrobe, she 
 tried to recover herself. A dull, deep sleep 
 was pressing on her brain, and she thought 
 she would never be able to cross the room to 
 where the letter was. Dandy looked out of 
 his rug ; she caught sight of his bright 
 eyes. 
 
 On cold and shaky feet she attempted to 
 make her way towards the letter ; but the 
 room heaved up at her, and, fearing she 
 should fall, and knowing if she did that she 
 would not be able to regain her feet, she clung 
 to the toilette-table. She must destroy that 
 letter: if it were found they would watch 
 her ; and, however impossible her life might 
 become, she would not be able to escape from 
 it. This consideration gave her strength for 
 a final effort. She tore the letter into very 
 small pieces, and then clinging to a chair,
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 259 
 
 strove to grasp the rail of the bed ; but the 
 bed rolled worse than any ship. Making a 
 supreme effort, she got in ; and then, neither 
 dreams nor waking thoughts, but oblivion 
 complete. Hours and hours passed, and when 
 she opened her eyes her maid stood over the 
 bed, looking at her. 
 
 "Oh, miss, you looked so tired and ill that 
 1 didn't wake you. You do seem poorly, 
 miss. It is nearly two o'clock. Should you 
 like to sleep a little longer, or shall I bring 
 you up some breakfast ? " 
 
 " No, no, no, thank you, I couldn't touch 
 anything. I'm feeling wretched ; but I'll 
 get up." 
 
 The maid tried to dissuade her ; but Emily 
 got out of bed, and allowed herself to be 
 dressed. She was very weak so weak that 
 she could hardly stand up at the wash-stand ; 
 and the maid had to sponge her face and 
 neck. But when she had drunk a cup of tea 
 and eaten a little piece of toast, she said she 
 felt better, and was able to walk into the 
 drawing room. She thought no more of 
 death, nor of her troubles ; thought drowsed 
 in her ; and in a passive, torpid state she sat 
 looking into the fire till dinner-time, hardly
 
 260 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 caring to bestow a casual caress on Dandy, 
 who seemed conscious of his mistress's neglect, 
 for, in his sly, coaxing way, he sometimes 
 came and rubbed himself against her feet. 
 She went into the dining-room, and the ser- 
 vant was glad to see that she finished her 
 soup, and, though she hardly tasted it, she 
 finished a wing of a chicken, and also the 
 glass of wine which the man pressed upon 
 her. Half an hour after, when he brought 
 out the tea, he found her sitting on her 
 habitual chair, nursing her dog and staring 
 into the fire so drearily that her look fright- 
 ened him, and he hesitated before he gave 
 her the letter which had just come up from 
 the town ; but it was marked " Immedi- 
 ate." 
 
 When he left the room she opened it It 
 was from Mrs. Bentley. 
 
 " DEAREST EMILY : I know that Hubert told you 
 that he was not going to marry me. He thought he 
 was not, for I had refused to marry him ; but a short 
 time after we met in the park quite accidentally, and 
 well, fate took the matter out of our hands, and we are 
 to be married to-morrow. Hubert insists on going to 
 Italy, and I believe we shall remain there two months. 
 We have made arrangements for your aunt to live with 
 you until we come back ; and when we do come back, I
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 261 
 
 hope all the little unpleasantnesses which have marred 
 our friendship for this last month or two will be for- 
 gotten. So far as I am concerned, nothing shall be left 
 undone to make you happy. Your will shall be law at 
 Ash wood so long as I am there. If you would like to 
 join us in Italy, you have only to say the word. We 
 shall be delighted to have you." 
 
 Emily could read no more. "Join them in 
 Italy ! " She dashed the letter into the fire, 
 and an intense hatred of them both pierced 
 her heart and brain. It was the kiss of Judas. 
 Oh, those hateful, lying words ! To live here 
 with her aunt until they came back, to wait 
 here quietly until she returned in triumph 
 with him him who had been all the world to 
 her ! Oh, no ; that was not possible. Death, 
 death escape she must. But how ? She 
 had no more chloral. Suddenly she thought 
 of the lake. " Yes, yes ; the lake, the lake ! " 
 And then a keen, swift, passionate longing 
 for death, such as she had not felt at all the 
 night before, came upon her. There was 
 the knowledge, too, that by killing herself 
 she would revenge herself on those who 
 had killed her. She was just conscious 
 that her suicide would have this effect, but 
 hardly a trace of such intention appeared 
 in the letter she wrote ; it was as melan-
 
 262 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 choly and as brief as the letter she had torn 
 up, and ended, like it, with a request that 
 Dandy should be well looked after. She 
 had only just directed the envelope when she 
 heard the servant coming to take away the 
 tea-things. She concealed the letter ; and 
 when his steps died away in the corridor 
 and the house door closed, she knew she 
 could slip out unobserved. Instinctively she 
 thought of her hat and jacket, and, without 
 a shudder, remembered she would not need 
 them. She sped down the pathway through 
 the shadow of the firs. 
 
 It was one of those warm nights of winter 
 when a sulphur-colored sky hangs like a 
 blanket behind the wet, dishevelled woods ; 
 and, though there was neither moon nor star, 
 the night was strangely clear, and the shadow 
 of the bridge was distinct in the water. 
 When she approached the brink the swans 
 moved slowly away. They reminded her of 
 the cold ; but the black obsession of death 
 was upon her; and, hastening her steps, she 
 threw herself forward. She fell into shallow 
 water and regained her feet, and for a mo- 
 ment it seemed uncertain if she would wade 
 to the bank or fling herself into a deeper
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 263 
 
 place. Suddenly she sank, the water rising 
 to her shoulders. She was lifted off her feet. 
 A faint struggle, a faint cry, and then noth- 
 ing nothing but the whiteness of the swans 
 moving through the sultry night slowly to- 
 ward the island.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 " THEY ought to be back from the theatre 
 by now. They'll want a nice fire. I always 
 likes to make a newly-married couple com- 
 fortabla" 
 
 " When were they married ? " 
 
 " This morning. We must make the room 
 look nice. Better light the candles ; they'll 
 be home in a few minutes." 
 
 Its rich, inanimate air proclaimed the room 
 to be an expensive bedroom in a first-class 
 London hotel. Interest in the newly-married 
 couple, who were to occupy the room, prompt- 
 ed the servants to see that nothing was for- 
 gotten ; and as they lingered steps were heard 
 in the passage, and Hubert and Julia entered. 
 The maid-servants stood aside to let them 
 pass, and one inquired if madame wanted 
 anything, so that her eyes might be gratified 
 with a last inquisition of the happy pair. 
 
 " How wonderful ! oh, how wonderful ! I 
 don't think I ever saw any one act before like 
 that did you?"
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 265 
 
 "She certainly had three or four moments 
 that could not be surpassed. Her entrance 
 in the sleep-walking scene what vague 
 horror ! what pale presentiment ! how she 
 filled the stage ! nothing seemed to exist but 
 she." 
 
 "And Ford what did you think of Ford's 
 Macbeth ? " 
 
 " Very good. Everything he does is good. 
 Talent but the other has genius." 
 
 " I shall never forget this evening. What 
 an awful tragedy ! " 
 
 " Perhaps I should have taken you to see 
 something more cheerful ; but I wanted to 
 see Miss Massey play Lady Macbeth. But 
 let us talk of something else. We are very 
 well here. Splendid fire is it not?" 
 
 She slipped her long cloak from her shoul- 
 ders. The gown was pale blue, with a bunch 
 of pale roses on the shoulder and a garland 
 of pale roses on the skirt, and in the candle 
 and firelight her pale hair filled with rich 
 tones. Hubert threw off his overcoat, and in 
 the black and white of his evening clothes 
 his tall, thin figure drew a look of admira- 
 tion from Julia. Hubert surprised that look; 
 his face changed expression, and he said :
 
 266 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 " Dearest, let me kiss you ; " and, leaning up 
 to her, for he was seated in the arm-chair, he 
 drew her down to him, and their lips lingered 
 in a long and intoxicating embrace. She sat 
 upon his knee and stretched her feet to the 
 fira "I'm so happy," he said, "that I fear 
 it must be only a dream. But you are with 
 me. Say that it is not a dream ! " 
 
 "Yes, I'm here with you. Why do you 
 think it is only a dream ? " 
 
 " Because my life now is a perfect realiza- 
 tion of the life I desired when I was poor and 
 miserable; and no man ever attains his ideal." 
 
 "And were you ever really poor ? I mean, 
 did you ever really want ? " 
 
 'Want a dinner? Yes, for whole weeks 
 together, when I was writing ' The Gipsy,' I 
 lived on tenpence and a shilling a day. For 
 three days for the better part of a week I 
 worked in the docks as a laborer. I went 
 down there hoping to get a clerkship on board 
 one of the transatlantic steamers. I had had 
 enough of England, and thought of seeking 
 fortune elsewhere." 
 
 "I can hardly believe you worked as a 
 laborer in the docks." 
 
 " Yes, I did. I awoke one morning without
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 267 
 
 a penny-piece. I saw some men going to 
 work, and I joined them. I don't think I 
 thought much about it at the time. A very 
 little misery rubs all the psychology out of 
 us, and we return more easily than one thinks 
 to the animal." 
 
 " And then ? " 
 
 " At the end of a week the work began to 
 tell upon me, and I drifted back in search of 
 my manuscript" 
 
 "But you must have been in a dreadful 
 condition ; your clothes " 
 
 " Ah ! thereby hangs a tale. An actress 
 lived in one of the houses I had been lodging 
 in." 
 
 " Oh, tell me about her ! This is getting 
 very interesting." 
 
 Then passing his arm round his wife's neck, 
 and with her sweet blond face looking upon 
 him, and the insinuating warmth of the fire 
 about them, he told how Rose had lent him 
 five shillings to buy a hat, and how he had 
 gone to see Ford. He told of the terrible first 
 night, of the fight that the younger critics had 
 made against thegrossness of public taste, and 
 the stupidity and animosity of the veteran 
 critics who wrote in morning papers. Hubert
 
 268 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 told the story with such directness and sim- 
 plicity that the illusion was complete it 
 seemed like a real scene she was witnessing, 
 it was passing under her very eyes. 
 
 "But," she said, her voice trembling, "you 
 would not have committed suicide ? " 
 
 "No man knows beforehand whether he 
 will commit suicide. I can only say that 
 every other issue was closed." 
 
 At the end of a long silence Julia said: "I 
 wish you hadn't spoken about suicide. I' can- 
 not but think of Emily. If she were to make 
 away with herself! The very possibility 
 turns my heart to ice. What should I do 
 what should we do ? I ought never to have 
 given way ; we were both abominably selfish. 
 I can see that poor girl sitting alone in that 
 house grieving her heart out" 
 
 " You ought never to have given way ! A 
 nice speech indeed to make, and on your wed- 
 ding night" 
 
 " You know what I mean ! " she said, clasp, 
 ing her arms about him, and kissing him. 
 Hubert took her arms in his hands, and 
 looked at her. He thought he had never seen 
 anything so exquisite as her white beauty in 
 the romantic voluptuousness of the firelight
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 269 
 
 "Nothing will happen," he said, to assure 
 her. " My life has been always full of agita- 
 tion, and yet nothing happened. My mar- 
 riage is the one real event." 
 
 " The most terrible things often happen 
 have happened." 
 
 " Emily may have been fond of me I think 
 she was ; but it was no more than the hysteri- 
 cal caprice of a young girl. Besides, people do 
 not die for love ; and I assure you it will be 
 all right. This is not a time for gloomy 
 thoughts. Kiss me." 
 
 " I'll try not to think of her. Well, what 
 were we talking about? I know: about the 
 actress who lived in 17 Fitzroy Street Tell 
 me about her." 
 
 " She was a real good girl. If she hadn't 
 lent me that five shillings, I don't know 
 where I should be now." 
 
 " Were you very fond of her ? " 
 
 " No ; there was never anything of that sort 
 between us. We were merely friends." 
 
 "Truly? Am I to believe that? Didn't 
 you love her a little bit? " 
 
 "No, dearest wife, I did not; you have all 
 my love." 
 
 " Yes ; but the past ? "
 
 270 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 " There was neither love nor cheerfulness 
 in the past." 
 
 " And what has become of this actress ? 
 Have you lost sight of her ? " 
 
 " You must think me very ungrateful. No ; 
 I saw her to-night." 
 
 " You saw her to-night? " 
 
 " Yes ; were we not at the theatre ? " 
 
 " Was she acting in the piece we saw to- 
 night?" 
 
 "It was she who played Lady Macbeth." 
 
 " You are joking." 
 
 "No, I'm not I always knew she had 
 genius, and they have found it out; but I 
 must say they have taken their time about 
 it." 
 
 " How wonderful ! she has succeeded ! " 
 
 " Yes, she has succeeded." 
 
 
 
 "And she is really the girl you intended to 
 play Lady Hay ward ? " 
 
 " Yes, and I hope she will play the part one 
 of these days." 
 
 " Of course, she is just the woman for it. 
 What a splendid success she has had ! All 
 London is talking about her." 
 
 " And I remember when Ford refused to 
 cast her for the adventuress in 'Divorce.' If he
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 271 
 
 had, there is no doubt she would have carried 
 the piece through. Life is but a bundle of 
 chances; she has succeeded, whatever that 
 may mean." 
 
 "But you will let her have the part of 
 Lady Hay ward ? " 
 
 " Yes, of course that is to say, if " 
 
 "Why 'if'?" 
 
 " My thoughts are with you, dear ; litera- 
 ture seems to have passed out of sight." 
 
 " But you must not sacrifice your talent in 
 worship of me. I shall not allow you. For 
 my sake, if not for hers, you must finish that 
 play. I want you to be famous. I should 
 be forever miserable if my love proved a 
 upas-tree." 
 
 " A upas-tree ! It will be you who will 
 help me; it will be your presence that will 
 help me to write my play. I was always 
 vaguely conscious that you were a necessary 
 element in my life ; but I did not wake up to 
 any knowledge of it until that day do you 
 remember? when youvcame into my study 
 to ask me what fish I'd like for dinner, and I 
 begged of you to allow me to read to you 
 that second act It is that second act that 
 stops me."
 
 272 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 "I thought you had written the second act 
 to jour satisfaction. You said that after the 
 talk we had that afternoon you wrote for three 
 hours without stopping, and that you had 
 never done better work." 
 
 " Yes, I wrote a great deal ; but on reading 
 it over I found that I don't mean to say that 
 none of it will stand ; some still seems to me 
 to be all right, but a great deal will require 
 alteration." 
 
 The conversation fell. At the end of a long 
 silence Hubert said : 
 
 " What are you thinking of, dearest ? " 
 
 "I was thinking that supposing you were 
 mistaken if I failed to help you in your 
 work." 
 
 " And I never succeeded in writing my 
 play?" 
 
 " No, I don't mean that. Of course you 
 will write your play ; all you have to do is to 
 be less critical." 
 
 " Yes, I know I have heard that before ; 
 but, unfortunately, we cannot change our- 
 selves. I'll either carry my play through 
 completely, realize my ideal, or 
 
 " Remain forever unsatisfied ? " 
 
 Hubert hesitated ; they looked at each other
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 273 
 
 a moment fixedly ; then he answered : " You 
 have said it." 
 
 " But," said Julia there was a slight note 
 of alarm in her voice which she sought to dis- 
 guise " we are going to Italy. You said you 
 loved me. I give you all my love, as much 
 at a woman ever gave to man. Yes, and 
 Fortune has given you wealth, and now you 
 can do with your life as you will. . . . We 
 are lovers ; we are going to Italy. Think of 
 the long days we shall spend together ! and 
 you will show me all that is to be seen ruins, 
 pictures, statues . . . you will teach me! 
 And you'll have patience with me, for I am 
 very ignorant. . . . Yes, we shall be very 
 happy. Fortune has conspired to make us 
 happy. So why think of that play at all I 
 mean for the present ? " 
 
 " I will think of it as little as may be, and 
 whether I write it or no I shall be happy in 
 your love." 
 
 " Yes, yes ; let us be happy." 
 
 Hubert and Julia looked at each other. He 
 did not speak, but his thought said : " There 
 is no happiness on earth for him who has not 
 accomplished his task." 
 
 " I wonder if I shall make you happy ? The 
 18
 
 274 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 day will come when my love will cease to 
 charm you, and you will seek distraction 
 again in your study." 
 
 " I do not think so. We attach too much 
 importance to a little scribbling on paper, to a 
 little daubing on canvas. I will not think of 
 my play : I will forget everything in love 
 you." ' 
 
 " No, I would not have you forget it." 
 
 Hubert sighed, and then he continued : 
 " You are here ; Italy awaits us its skies, 
 its cities, its palaces ; and with you for com- 
 panion, tell me, is not the prospect alluring? 
 And you would have me sacrifice all the 
 beautiful, intoxicating reality for the folly 
 of a vulgar ambition, and such an ambition 
 such scribbling on paper as would succeed in 
 awaking some clapping of hands and a few 
 cries of applause among a herd of half-edu- 
 cated people. But, leaving me out of it my 
 desires and my beliefs tell me, do you not 
 hunger for life? Is there no longing in you 
 for ease, for leisure, for love? Do you not 
 want to drink one draught of the golden cup ? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed I do. We have both suffered, 
 we are both tired of suffering, and it is only 
 right that we should be happy."
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 275 
 
 " There, I like to hear you talk so ; I would 
 have you enjoy life even as I intend to enjoy 
 it Long suffering has whetted our appetites. 
 We shall feast well. It shall be my pleasure 
 to attend you, to give you all your desire. 
 But you said just now that you had suffered. 
 I have told you my past. Tell me yours. I 
 know nothing except that you were unhappily 
 married." 
 
 " There is little else to know ; a woman's 
 life is not adventurous like a man's. I have 
 not known the excitement of ' first nights,' nor 
 the striving and the craving for an artistic 
 ideal. My life has been essentially a woman's 
 life suppression of self and monotonous duty ? 
 varied by heart-breaking misfortune. I mar- 
 ried when I was very young ; before I had 
 even begun to think about life I found 
 But why distress these hours with painful 
 memories ? " 
 
 " It is pleasant to look back on the troubles 
 we have passed through ; the memory gives a 
 keener zest to present happiness. Besides, I 
 I want to know all your life ; it seems to me 
 that I must know all to possess you wholly." 
 
 "Well, I learnt in one year the meaning 
 of three terrible words poverty, neglect, and
 
 276 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 cruelty. In the second year of my marriage 
 my husband died of drink, and I was left a 
 widow at twenty, entirely penniless. I went 
 to live with my sister, and she was so poor 
 that I had to support myself by giving music 
 lessons. You think you know the meaning 
 of poverty : you may ; but you do not know 
 what a young woman who wants to earn her 
 bread honestly has to put up with, trudging 
 through wet and cold, mile after mile, to 
 give a lesson, paid for at the rate of one-and- 
 sixpence or two shillings an hour." 
 
 The conversation came to a pause. Julia 
 took her eyes from her husband's face, and 
 looked dreamily into the fire. Then, raising 
 her face from the flame, she looked around 
 with the air of one seeking for some topic of 
 conversation. At that moment she caught 
 sight of the corner of a letter lying on the 
 mantelpiece. Beaching forth her hand, she 
 took it. It was addressed to her husband. 
 
 " Here is a letter for you, Hubert . . . 
 Why, it comes from Ashwood. Yes, and it 
 is in the handwriting of one of the servants. 
 Oh, it is Black's writing ! It may be about 
 Emily. Something may have happened to 
 her. Open it quickly."
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 277 
 
 " That is not probable. Nothing can have 
 happened to her." 
 
 " Look and see. Be quick ! " 
 
 Hubert opened the letter, and he had not 
 read three lines when Julia's face caught ex- 
 pression from his, which had become over- 
 cast. 
 
 "It is bad news, I know. Something has 
 happened. What is it ? Don't keep me wait- 
 ing. The suspense is worse than the truth." 
 
 "It is very awful, Julia. Don't give way." 
 
 " Tell me what it is. Is she dead ? " 
 
 " Yes, she is dead." Julia grew pale as the 
 dead, and she got up from her husband's 
 knees and stood by the mantelpiece, leaning 
 upon it. " It is more than mere death." 
 
 "What do you mean? She killed herself 
 is that it?" 
 
 "Yes; she drowned herself the night before 
 last in the lake." 
 
 "Oh, it is too horrible! Then we have 
 murdered her. Our unpardonable selfishness ! 
 I cannot bear it ! " Her eyes closed and her 
 lips trembled. Hubert caught her in his arms, 
 laid her on the chair, and, fetching some water 
 in a tumbler, sprinkled her face; then he held 
 it to her lips; she drank a little, and revived.
 
 278 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 "I'm not going to faint. Tell me tell me 
 when the unfortunate child " 
 
 " They don't know exactly. She was in the 
 drawing-room at tea-time, and the drawing- 
 room was empty when Black went round three- 
 quarters of an hour after to lock up. He 
 thought she had gone to her room. It was 
 the gardener who brought in the news in the 
 morning about nine." 
 
 " Oh, good God ! " 
 
 " Black says he noticed that she looked very 
 depressed the day before, but he thought she 
 was looking better when he brought in the tea.' 
 
 " It was then she got my letter. Does Black 
 say anything about giving her a letter?" 
 
 " Yes, that is to say 
 
 " I knew it ! I knew it ! " said Julia ; and 
 her eyes were wild with grief, and she rocked 
 herself to and fro. "It was that letter that 
 drove her to it. It was most ill-advised. I 
 told you so. You should have written. She 
 would have borne the news better had it come 
 from you. My instinct told me so, but I let 
 myself be persuaded. I told you how it would 
 happen. I told you. You can't say I didn't. 
 Oh ! why did you persuade me why why 
 why?"
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 279 
 
 "Julia, dear, we are not responsible. "We 
 were in no wise bound to sacrifice our happi- 
 ness to her " 
 
 "Don't say a word ! I say we were bound. 
 Life can never be the same to me again." 
 
 Hubert did not answer. Nothing he could 
 say would be of the slightest avail, and he 
 feared to say anything that might draw from 
 her expressions which she would afterward 
 regret. He had never seen her moved like 
 this, nor did he believe her capable of such 
 agitation, and the contrast of her present with 
 her usual demeanor made it the more im- 
 pressive. 
 
 " Oh," she said, leaning forward and look- 
 ing at him fixedly, " take this nightmare off 
 my brain, or I shall go mad ! It isn't true ; 
 it cannot be true. But oh ! yes, it's true 
 enough." 
 
 " Like you, Julia, I am overwhelmed ; but 
 we can do nothing." 
 
 " Do nothing ! " she cried ; " do nothing ! 
 We can do nothing but pray for her we 
 who sacrificed her." And she slipped on her 
 knees and burst into a passionate fit of weeping. 
 
 " The best thing that could have hap- 
 pened," thought Hubert ; and his thought
 
 280 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 said, clearly and precisely : " Yes, it is awful, 
 shocking, cruel beyond measure ! " 
 
 The fire was sinking, and he built it up 
 quietly, ashamed of this proof of his regard 
 for physical comfort, and hoping it would 
 pass unnoticed. But they could not sit with- 
 out a fire, and he saw that their tete-a-tcte 
 might be unduly prolonged. His pain ex- 
 pressed itself less vehemently than Julia's : 
 but for all that his mind ached. He remem- 
 bered how he had taken everything from her 
 fortune, happiness, and now life itself. It 
 was certainly an appalling tragedy one of 
 those senseless cruelties which we find na- 
 ture so constantly inventing, and with such 
 devilish ingenuity. Then a thought revealed 
 an unexpected analogy between him and his 
 victim. In both lives there had been a su- 
 preme desire, and both had failed. " Hers 
 was the better part," he said bitterly. ''Those 
 whose souls are burdened with desire that 
 may not be gratified had better fling the load 
 aside. They are fools who carry it on to the 
 end. ... If it were not for Julia " 
 
 She was still upon her knees, and she had 
 never looked more beautiful than now, her 
 arms flung across the chair. Her beauty
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 281 
 
 drew Hubert's thoughts from his play, and 
 he remembered how misadventure had pur- 
 sued them, even to the finding of the letter. 
 If they had not sat up talking, if she had 
 not seen the letter, if she had merely given it 
 to him without seeing where it came from ! 
 Then he sought to determine what were his 
 exact feelings. He knew he was infinitely 
 sorry for poor Emily ; but he could not stir 
 himself into a paroxysm of grief, and, ashamed 
 of his inability to express his feelings, he 
 looked at Julia, who still wept 
 
 " No doubt," he thought, " women have 
 keener feelings than we have." 
 
 At that moment Julia got up from her 
 knees. She had brushed away her tears. 
 Her face was shaken with grief. 
 
 " My heart is breaking," she said. " This 
 is too cruel too cruel ! And on my wedding 
 night," 
 
 Their eyes met ; and, divining each other's 
 thought, each felt ashamed, and Julia said : 
 
 " Oh, what am I saying ? This dreadful 
 selfishness, from which we cannot escape, that 
 js with us even in such a moment as this ! 
 That poor child gone to her death, and yet 
 amid it all we must think of ourselves."
 
 282 VAIN FORTUNE 
 
 " My dear Julia, we cannot escape from our 
 human nature; but, for all that, our grief is 
 sincere. We can do nothing. Do not grieve 
 like that." 
 
 " And why not ? She was ray best friend. 
 How have I repaid her ? Alas ! as woman 
 always repays woman for kindness dona The 
 old story. I cannot forgive myself. No, no! 
 do not kiss me ! I cannot bear it. Leave me. 
 I can see nothing but Emily's reproachful 
 face." She covered her face in her hands and 
 sobbed again. 
 
 The same scenes repeated themselves over 
 and over again. The same fits of passionate 
 grief ; the same moment of calm, when words 
 impregnated with self dropped from their lips. 
 The same nervous sense that something of 
 the dead girl stood between them. And 
 still they sat by the fire, weary with sorrow, 
 recrimination, long regret, and pain. They 
 could grieve no more ; and before dawn sleep 
 pressed upon their eyelids, and at the end of 
 a long silence he dozed a pale, transparent 
 sleep, through which the realities of life ap- 
 peared almost as plainly as before. Suddenly 
 he awoke, and he shivered in the chill room. 
 The fire was sinking ; dawn divided the win-
 
 VAIN FORTUNE 283 
 
 dow curtains. He took his overcoat from the 
 bed, and his hand met the evening paper he 
 had thrust unread into his pocket. He opened 
 and glanced through the paper until his eyes 
 were arrested by his own name. "So they 
 are still thinking of 'The Gipsy.'" . . . In- 
 stantly his thoughts wandered into some new 
 scheme of reconstruction. But dismissing 
 these involuntary hopes abruptly, he looked 
 at his wife. She seemed to him very beautiful 
 as she slept; her face turned a little on one 
 side, and he asked himself if he loved her. 
 Then, going to the window, he drew the cur- 
 tains softly, so as not to awaken her; and as 
 he stood watching a thin, discolored day now 
 breaking over the roofs, it seemed to him that 
 Emily's suicide was the better part. " Those 
 who do not perform their task in life are never 
 happy." The words drilled themselves into 
 his brain with relentless insistency. . . . 
 Should he ever be happy any more ? Surely 
 Emily's suicide was the better part. 
 
 " Hubert ! " It was Julia calling him. Pale 
 and overworn, but in all her woman's beauty, 
 she came, offering herself as compensation for 
 the burden of life.
 
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