THE FAR HORIZON
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR 
 
 M M M 
 
 THE WAGES OF SIN 
 A COUNSEL OF PERFECTION 
 COLONEL ENDERBY'S WIFE 
 LITTLE PETER 
 
 THE CARISSIMA 
 
 THE GATELESS BARRIER 
 
 THE HISTORY OF SIR RICHARD 
 CALMADY
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 BY 
 LUCAS MALET 
 
 (MRS. MARY ST. LEGER HARRISON) 
 
 NEW YORK 
 DODD, MEAD & COMPANY 
 
 1907
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1906, BY 
 DODD, MEAD & COMPANY 
 Published, January, 1907
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 999009*1 
 
 **^ , \J /-W<L/
 
 " Ask for the Old Paths, where is the Good Way, and walk therein, 
 and ye shall find rest." JEREMIAS. 
 
 "The good man is the bad man's teacher; the bad man is the ma- 
 terial upon which the good man works. If the one does not value 
 his teacher, if the other does not love his material, then despite their 
 sagacity they must go far astray. This is a mystery of great im- 
 port." FROM THE SAYINGS OF LAo-Tztr. 
 
 . . . "Cherchons a voir les choses comme elles sont, et ne vou- 
 lons pas avoir plus d'esprit que le bon Dieu! Autrefois on croyait 
 que la canne a sucre seule donnait le sucre, on en tire a peu pres de 
 tout maintenant. II est de meme de la poesie. Extrayons-la de 
 n'importe quoi, car elle git en tout et partout. Pas un atome de 
 matiere qui ne contienne pas la podsie. Et habituons-nous a con- 
 siderer le monde comme un oeuvre d'art, dont il faut reproduire les 
 procddes dans nos oeuvres." GUSTAVE FJLAUBERT.
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 DOMINIC IGLESIAS stood watching while the lingering 
 June twilight darkened into night. He was tired in body, 
 but his mind was eminently, consciously awake, to the 
 point of restlessness, and this was unusual with him. He 
 had raised the lower sash of each of the three tall, narrow 
 windows to its extreme height, since the first-floor sitting- 
 room, though of fair proportions, appeared close. His 
 thought refused the limits of it, and ranged outward 
 over the expanse of Trimmer's Green, the roadway and 
 houses bordering it, to the far northwest, that region 
 of hurried storm, of fierce, equinoctial passion and con- 
 flict, now paved with plaques of flat, dingy, violet cloud 
 opening on smoky rose-red wastes of London sunset. 
 All day thunder had threatened, but had not broken. 
 And, even yet, the face of heaven seemed less peaceful 
 than remonstrant, a sullenness holding it as of troops 
 in retreat denied satisfaction of imminent battle. 
 
 Otherwise the outlook was wholly pacific, one of 
 middle-qlass suburban security. The Green aforesaid is 
 bottle-shaped, the neck of it debouching into a crowded 
 westward-wending thoroughfare; while Cedar Lodge, 
 from the first-floor windows of which Mr. Iglesias con- 
 templated the oncoming of night, being situate in the 
 left shoulder, so to speak, of the bottle, commanded, 
 diagonally, an uninterrupted view of the whole extent 
 of it. Who Trimmer was, how he came by a Green, and 
 why, or what he trimmed on it, it is idle at this time of 
 day to attempt to determine. Whether, animated by a 
 desire for the public welfare, he bequeathed it in high char- 
 itable sort; or whether, fame taking a less enviable turn
 
 2 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 with him, he just simply was hanged there, has afforded 
 matter of heated controversy to the curious in questions 
 of suburban nomenclature and topography. But in this 
 case, as in so many other and more august ones, the 
 origins defy discovery. Suffice it, therefore, that the 
 name remains, as does the open space the latter form- 
 ing one of those minor " lungs of London " which offer 
 such amiable oases in the great city's less aristocratic 
 residential districts. Formerly the Green boasted a row 
 of fine elms, and was looked on by discreetly handsome 
 eighteenth-century mansions and villas, set in spacious 
 gardens. But of these, the great majority Cedar Lodge 
 being a happy exception have vanished under the hand 
 of the early Victorian speculative builder; who, in their 
 stead, has erected full complement of the architectural 
 platitudes common to his age and taste. Dignity has 
 very sensibly given place to gentility. Nevertheless the 
 timid red, or sickly yellow-grey, brick of the existing 
 houses is pleasingly veiled by ivy and Virginia creeper, 
 while no shop front obtrudes derogatory suggestion of 
 retail trade. The local authorities, moreover, some ten 
 years back girdled the Green with healthy young balsam- 
 poplar and plane trees and enclosed the grass with iron 
 hurdles to rescue it from trampling into unsightly path- 
 ways thus doing a well-intentioned, if somewhat unim- 
 aginative, best to safeguard the theatre of long ago 
 Trimmer's beneficence or infamy from greater spolia- 
 tion. 
 
 Hence it follows that, certain inherent limitations 
 admitted, the scene upon which Dominic Iglesias' eyes 
 rested was not without elements of attraction. And of 
 this fact, being a person of an excellent temperance of 
 expectation, he was gratefully aware. His surroundings, 
 indeed, constituted, so it appeared to him, the maximum 
 of comfort and advantage which could be expected by
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 3 
 
 a middle-aged gentleman, of moderate fortune, in the 
 capacity of a " paying guest." Not only in word but 
 in thought for in acknowledgment of obligation he was 
 scrupulously courteous he frequently tendered thanks to 
 his neighbour and old school-fellow, Mr. George Love- 
 grove, first for calling his attention to Mrs. Porcher's 
 advertisement, and subsequently for reassuring him as 
 to its import. For, though incapable of forming so much 
 as a thought to her concrete disparagement, Mr. Igle- 
 sias was not without a quiet sense of humour, or of that 
 instinct of self-protection common to even the most chiv- 
 alrous of mankind. He was, therefore, perfectly sensible 
 that " the widow of a military officer," who describes 
 herself in print as " bright, musical and thoroughly 
 domesticated," while offering " a cheerful and refined 
 home at the West End, within three minutes of Tube and 
 omnibus " " noble dining and recreation rooms, bath 
 h. and c." thrown in to unmarried members of the 
 stronger sex, must of necessity be a lady whose close ac- 
 quaintance it would be foolhardy to make without a trifle 
 of preliminary scouting. 
 
 Happily not only George Lovegrove, but his estimable 
 wife was at hand. The latter hastened to prosecute 
 inquiries, beginning with a visit to the Anglican vicar of 
 the parish, the Rev. Giles Nevington. He reported 'Mrs. 
 Porcher an evening communicant at the greater festivals, 
 and a not ungenerous donor to parochial charities; add- 
 ing that a former curate had resided under her roof with 
 perfect impunity. Mrs. Lovegrove terminated her re- 
 searches by an interview with the fishmonger, who assured 
 her that " Cedar Lodge always took the best cuts," sternly 
 refused fish or poultry which had suffered cold storage, 
 and paid its housebooks without fail before noon on 
 Thursday. She ascertained, further, from a source so- 
 cially intermediate between clergyman and tradesman,
 
 4 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 that Mrs. Porcher's husband, some time veterinary sur- 
 geon of a crack regiment, had died in the odour of alcohol 
 rather than in that of sanctity, leaving his widow in 
 addition to his numerous and heavy debts but a frac- 
 tion of the comfortable fortune to procure the enjoyment 
 of which he had so considerately married her. The solid 
 Georgian mansion was her freehold; and it was to secure 
 sufficient means for continued residence in it that the poor 
 lady started a boarding-house, or in the politer language 
 of the present day, had decided to receive paying guests. 
 
 Encouraged by the satisfactory nature of the above 
 information, Mr. Iglesias shortly after his mother's 
 death, now nearly eight years ago had become a mem- 
 ber of Mrs. Porcher's household. He had never, so far, 
 had reason to regret that step. And it was with a 
 consciousness of well-being and repose that he returned 
 daily after hours of strenuous work in the well-known 
 city banking house of Messrs. Barking Brothers & Bark- 
 ing to this square first-floor sitting-room, to its dimly 
 white panelled and painted walls, its nice details of carved 
 work in chimney-piece and ceiling, and the outlook from 
 its tall, narrow windows. A touch of old-world state- 
 liness in its aspect satisfied hia latent pride of race. To 
 certain natures not obscurity or slender means, but the 
 pretentious vulgarity which, in English-speaking coun- 
 tries, too often goes along with these constitutes the 
 burden and the offence. 
 
 To-night, however, things were different. Material 
 objects remained the same; but the conditions of exist- 
 ence had taken on a strange appearance, and with that 
 appearance Iglesias was bound to reckon, being uncertain 
 as yet whether it was destined to prove that of a friend 
 or of an enemy. In furtherance of such reckoning, he 
 had declined dining at the public table, in company with 
 his hostess, Miss Eliza Hart, her devoted friend and com-
 
 panion, and the three gentlemen Mr. de Courcy Smyth, 
 Mr. Farge, and Mr. Worthington who shared with him 
 the hospitalities of Cedar Lodge. He had dined here, 
 upstairs, solitary; and Frederick, the German-Swiss valet, 
 had just finished clearing the table and departed. Usually 
 under such circumstances Iglesias would have taken a 
 favourite book from the carved Spanish mahogany book- 
 case containing his small library ; and, reading again that 
 which he had often read before, would have found therein 
 the satisfaction of friendship, along with the soothing in- 
 fluences of familiarity. But to-night neither Gibbon's 
 Rome a handsome early edition in many volumes 
 The Travels of Anacharsis, Evelyn's Diary, Napier's 
 Peninsular War, John Stuart Mill's Logic, Byron's 
 Poems, nor those of Calderon, nor of that so-called 
 " prodigy of nature," Lope de Vega, not even the dear and 
 immortal Don Quixote himself, served to attract him. His 
 own thoughts, his own life, filled his whole horizon, leaving 
 no space for the thoughts or lives of others. He found 
 himself a prey to a certain mental incoherence, a be- 
 wildering activity of vision. More than once before in 
 the course of his laborious, monotonous, and, as men go, 
 very virtuous life had this same thing happened to him 
 the tides of the obvious and accustomed suddenly receding 
 and leaving him stranded, as on some barren sand-bank, 
 uncertain whether the ship of his individual fate would 
 lie there wind-swept and sun-bleached till rusty rivets 
 fell out and planks parted, disclosing the ribs of her in 
 unsightly nakedness, or whether the kindly tide, rising, 
 would float her off into blue water and she would sail hope- 
 fully once again. 
 
 It was inevitable that this present experience should 
 recall these other happenings, evoking memories poignant 
 enough. The first time the ship of his fate thus stranded 
 was when, as a lad of seventeen, he left school. Living
 
 6 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 alone with his mother in a quaint little house in Holland 
 Street, Kensington, eagerly ambitious to make his way 
 in the world and to obtain, it had dawned on him that 
 there was something strange, unhappy, and not as it 
 was wont to be with that, to him, most beautiful and 
 beloved of women. The mere suspicion was as a blas- 
 phemy against which his young loyalty revolted. For 
 Dominic, with the inherent pieties of his Latin and Celtic 
 blood, had none of that contemptuous superiority in re- 
 gard of his near relations so common to male creatures of 
 the Protestant persuasion and Anglo-Saxon race. He took 
 his parents quite seriously ; it never having occurred to him 
 that fathers and mothers are given us merely for purposes 
 of discipline, or as helot-like examples of what to avoid. 
 He was simple-minded enough indeed to regard them as 
 sacred, altogether beyond the bounds of legitimate criti- 
 cism and this, as destiny would have it, with intimate 
 and life-long results. 
 
 Vaguely, through the mists of infancy, he could 
 remember a hurried exodus after sound of cannon and 
 sight of blood from Spain, the fierce and pious country 
 of his birth. Since then, while his mother lived namely, 
 till he was a man of over forty always and only the 
 house in the Kensington side street, with its crooked 
 creaking stairways, its high wainscots behind which 
 mice squeaked and scampered its clinging odour of 
 ancient woodwork, its low ceilings, and uneven floors. At 
 the back of it was a narrow strip of garden, glorious 
 for one brief week in early summer, with the gold of a 
 big laburnum; and fragrant later thanks to faithful 
 effort on the part of the white jasmine clothing its enclos- 
 ing walls. In fair weather the morning sun lay warm 
 there; while the sky showed all the bluer overhead for 
 the dark lines of the adjacent housetops, and upstand- 
 ing deformities in the matter of zinc cowls and chimney-
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 7; 
 
 pots. Frequented by cats, boasting in the centre a 
 rockery of gas clinkers and chalk flints surmounted by a 
 stumpy fluted column bearing a stone basin in which, 
 after rain, sparrows disported themselves with much con- 
 versation and fluttering of sooty wings the garden was, 
 to little Dominic, a place of wonder and delight. He 
 peopled it with beings of his own fancy, lovely or terrific, 
 according to his passing humour. Granted a measure of 
 imagination, the solitary child is often the happiest child, 
 since the social element, with its inevitable materialism, 
 is absent, and the dear spirit of romance is unquenched 
 by vulgar comment. 
 
 His father, grave and preoccupied, whose arrivals after 
 long periods of absence had in them an effect of secrecy 
 and haste, was to the small boy a being, august, but 
 remote. During his brief sojourns at home the quiet 
 house awoke to greater fulness of life, with much coming 
 and going of other grave personages, strange of dress, 
 and with a certain effect of hardly restrained violence in 
 their aspect. A spirit of fear seemed to enter with 
 them, demanding an unnatural darkening of windows and 
 closing of doors. Before Dominic they were of few words ; 
 but became eloquent enough, in sonorous foreign speech, 
 as his ears testified when he was banished from their rather 
 electric presence to the solitude of the nursery above. 
 And so it came about that a sense of mystery, of large 
 issues, of things at once strong and hidden, impenetrable 
 to his understanding and concerning which no questions 
 might be asked, encircled Dominic's childhood and passed 
 into the very fabric of his thought. While through it all 
 his mother moved, to him tender and wholly exquisite, 
 but with the reticence of some deep-seated enthusiasm 
 silently cherished, some far-reaching alarm silently en- 
 dured, always upon her. And this resulted in an atmos- 
 phere of seriousness and responsibility which inevitably
 
 8 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 reacted on the boy, making him sober beyond his years, 
 tempering his natural vivacity with watchfulness, and 
 pitching even his laughter in a minor key. 
 
 Only many years later, when after his mother's death 
 it became his duty to read letters exchanged between his 
 parents during this period, did Dominic Iglesias touch 
 the key to the riddle, and fully measure the public danger, 
 the private strain and stress which had surrounded his 
 childhood and early youth. For his father, a man of 
 far from ignoble nature, but of narrow outlook and un- 
 dying hatreds, was deeply involved in revolutionary 
 intrigue of the most advanced type a victim of that 
 false passion of humanity which takes its rise not in 
 honest desire for the welfare of mankind, but in blind 
 rebellion against all forms of authority. His self-confi- 
 dence was colossal; all rule being abominable to him 
 save his own all rulers hideous, save himself. The an- 
 archist, rightly understood, is merely the autocrat, the 
 tyrant, turned inside out. And this man, as Dominic 
 gathered from the perusal of those old letters, to whom 
 the end so justified the means that red-handed crime took 
 on the fair colours of virtue, his mother had loved, even 
 while she feared him, with all the faithfulness and pure 
 passion of her Irish blood. Pathetic combination, the 
 patience and resignation of the one ever striving to 
 temper the flaming zeal of the other, as though the spin- 
 drift of the Atlantic, sweeping inland from the dim 
 sadness of far western coasts, should strive with relentless 
 fierceness of sunglare outpoured on some high-lying 
 walled city of arid central Spain! Mist is but a weak 
 thing as against rock and fire ; and what his mother must 
 have suffered in moral and spiritual conflict, let alone 
 all question of active dread, was to her son almost too 
 cruel to contemplate, although it explained and justified 
 much.
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 9 
 
 In 1860, when Dominic was a schoolboy of fourteen, 
 his father left home on one of those sudden journeys the 
 object and objective of which were alike concealed. 
 For about a year letters arrived at irregular intervals, 
 hailing from Paris, Naples, Prague, and finally Peters- 
 burg. Then followed silence, broken only by rumours 
 furtively conveyed by a former associate, one Pascal 
 Pelletier an angel-faced, long-haired, hysteric creature, 
 inspired by an impassioned enthusiasm for infernal ma- 
 chines and wholesale slaughter in theory, and, in practice, 
 by a gentle doglike devotion to Mrs. Iglesias and young 
 Dominic. He would arrive depressed and shadowy in 
 the shadowy twilights. But, once in the presence of the 
 beings whom he loved, he became effervescent. His be- 
 lief was unlimited in the Head Centre, the Chief, in his 
 demonic power and fertility of resource. That any evil 
 should befall him! Pascal snapped his thin fingers; 
 while, with the inalienable optimism of the born fanatic, 
 he proceeded to state hopeful conjecture as established 
 fact, thereby doing homage to the spirit of delusion 
 which so conspicuously ruled him even to his inmost 
 thought. But a spell of cold weather in the winter of 
 1862 struck a little too shrewdly through Pascal's seedy 
 overcoat, causing that tender-hearted subverter of so- 
 ciety to cough his life out, with all possible despatch, in 
 the third-floor back of a filthy lodging-house off Totten- 
 ham Court Road. 
 
 This was the end as far as information went, whether 
 authentic or apocryphal. But Dominic, his horizon still 
 bounded by the world of school, greedy of distinction 
 both in learning and in games, away all day and eagerly, 
 if somewhat sleepily, busy over the preparation of les- 
 sons at night, was very far from realising that. Poor 
 voluble kind-eyed Pascal he mourned with all his heart; 
 yet the months of his father's absence accumulated into
 
 10 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 years almost unnoticed. The same thing had so often 
 happened before ; and then, at an unlooked-for moment, 
 the wanderer had returned. Moreover, the old habit 
 of obedience was still strong in him. It was understood 
 that concerning his father's occupations and movements 
 no comment might be made, no questions might be asked. 
 
 Meanwhile, the small house in Holland Street was ever 
 more still, more unfrequented. As he grew older Dominic 
 became increasingly sensible of this sensible of a sort 
 of hush falling on him as he crossed the threshold, so 
 that instinctively he left much of his wholesome young 
 animality outside, while his voice took on softer tones 
 in speech, and his quick light footsteps became more 
 scrupulously noiseless as he ran up the little crooked 
 stairs. 
 
 " When your father comes home we must decide what 
 profession you shall follow, my Dominic," it had been 
 his mother's habit to declare. But, even before the time 
 for such decision arrived the boy had begun to under- 
 stand he must see to all that unaided. For his mother 
 was ill, how deeply and in what manner he could not tell. 
 He shrank, indeed, from all clear thought, let alone 
 speech, on the subject, as from something indelicate, in 
 a way irreverent. Her beauty remained to her, notwith- 
 standing a gradual wasting as of fever. A peculiar, very 
 individual grace of dress and of bearing remained to 
 her likewise. But she was uncertain in mood, the vic- 
 tim of strange fancies, a being almost alarmingly far 
 removed from the interests of ordinary life. Long ago, 
 in submission to her husband's anti-clerical prejudices, 
 she had ceased to practise her religion, so that the services 
 of the Church no longer called her forth in beneficent 
 routine of sacred obligation. Now she never left the 
 house, living, since poor Pascal Pelletier's death, in com- 
 plete seclusion. Little wonder then that a hush fell on
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 11 
 
 Dominic crossing the threshold, since so doing he passed 
 from the world of healthy action to that of acquiescent 
 sickness, from vigorous hoarse-voiced realities to the in- 
 tangible sadness of unrelated dreams ! The effect was one 
 of rather haunting melancholy; and it was characteris- 
 tic of the lad that he did not resent it, though rejoicing 
 in the reputation at school of being high-spirited enough, 
 impatient of restraint or of any frustration of purpose. 
 His mother had always been sacred. She remained so, 
 even though her sympathies had become imperfect, and 
 she moved in regions which his sane young imagination 
 failed to penetrate. One thing was perfectly plain to 
 him, though it cut at the root of ambition namely, that 
 he could not leave her. So, in that matter of a profession, 
 he must find work which would permit of his continuing 
 to live at home; and, since her income was narrow, the 
 work in question must make no heavy demand in respect 
 of preliminary expense. 
 
 Here was a problem more easy of statement than of 
 solution, in face of Dominic's pride, inexperience, and 
 the singular isolation of his position! There followed 
 dreary months wherein his evenings were spent in study- 
 ing and answering advertisements ; and his days, till 
 late afternoon, in walking the town from end to end 
 for the interviewing of possible employers and the keep- 
 ing of fruitless appointments. He would set forth full 
 of hope and courage in the morning, only to return full 
 of the dejection of failure at night. And it was then 
 London began to reveal herself to him in her solidarity, 
 under the cloud of dun-blue coal smoke it was winter- 
 time which, at once hanging over and penetrating her 
 immensity, adds the majesty of mystery to the majesty 
 of mere size. He noted how, in the chill twilights, London 
 grew strangely and feverishly alive. Lamps sprang into 
 clearness along the pavements, A dazzling glitter of
 
 12 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 shop windows marked the great thoroughfares, while often 
 the angry glare of a fire pulsed along the sky-line. When 
 night comes in the country, so Dominic told himself, the 
 land sinks into peaceful repose. But in cities it is other- 
 wise. There the light leaves heaven for earth; and 
 walks the streets, with much else far from celestial, until 
 the small hours move towards the dawn and usher in the 
 decencies of day. 
 
 Never before had he seen London thus and understood 
 it in all its enormous variety, yet as a unit, a whole. How 
 much he actually beheld with his bodily eyes, how much 
 through the working of a rather exalted condition of 
 imagination induced by loneliness and bodily fatigue, he 
 could never subsequently determine. But the great city 
 presented herself to him in the guise of some prodigious 
 living creature, breathing, feeding, suffering, triumph- 
 ing, above all mating and breeding, terrible in her power 
 and vitality, age old, yet still unspent. Presented herself 
 to him as horribly prolific, ever outpassing her own un- 
 wieldy limits, sending forth her children, year after year, 
 all the wide world over by shipping or by rail; receiving 
 some tithe of them back, proud with accomplished for- 
 tune to enhance her glory, or, disgraced and broken, 
 slinking homeward to the cover of her fog and darkness 
 merely to swell the numbers of the nameless who rot and 
 die. He thought of those others, too and this touched 
 his young ardour with a quick shudder of personal fear 
 whom she never sends forth at all; but holds close in 
 bondage all their lives long, enslaved to her countless and 
 tyrant activities by their own poverty, or by their fellow- 
 creatures' misfortune, cruelties, and sins. Was it thus 
 she was going to deal with him, Dominic Iglesias? Was 
 he to be among the great city's bondmen through the 
 coming years, better acquainted with the very earthly 
 light which walks her streets by night, than with the
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 13 
 
 heavenly light which gladdens the sweet face of day in 
 the open country and upon the open sea? And for a 
 moment the boy's heart rebelled, hungry for pleasure, 
 hungry for wide experience, hungry even for knowledge 
 of those revolutionary intrigues which, as he was begin- 
 ning to understand, had surrounded his childhood, and, 
 as he was beginning to fear, had cost his mother her 
 reason and his father both liberty and life. Thus did 
 the ship of poor Dominic's fate appear to be stranded 
 or ever it had fairly set sail at all. 
 
 Meanwhile, if London claimed him, she did so in very 
 cynical fashion, mocking his willingness to labour, re- 
 fusing to feed him even while she refused to let him go. 
 Everything, he feared, was against him his youth, his 
 foreign name, his limited acquaintance, the impossibility 
 of giving definite information regarding his father's past 
 occupations or present whereabouts. Moreover, his spare 
 young figure, his thin shapely hands and feet, his blue- 
 black Irish eyes and black hair, his energetic colourless 
 face, his ready yet reticent speech all these marked him 
 as unusual and exotic. And for the unusual and exotic 
 the British employer of labour of whatever sort has, 
 it must be conceded, but little use. He is half afraid, 
 half contemptuous of it, instinctively disliking anything 
 more alert and alive than his own most stolid self. But 
 while men, distrusting the distinctness of his personality,, 
 and his good looks, refused to give Dominic work, women, 
 relishing them, were only too ready to give him enjoy- 
 ment of a kind. The boy, in those solitary wanderings, 
 ran the gauntlet of many temptations ; and was pre- 
 sented did he care to accept it with the freedom of 
 the city on very liberal lines. Happily, inherent cleanli- 
 ness of nature saved him from much ; and reverent shame 
 at the thought of entering the hushed and silent house 
 where his mother lived spotless, amid pathetic memories
 
 14 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 and delicate dreams with the soil of licence upon him, 
 saved him from more. Crime might have come close 
 to him in his childhood, but vice never; and the influ- 
 ences of vice are far more insidious, and consequently 
 more damaging, than those of crime. 
 
 Still, one way and another, the boy came very near 
 touching the confines of despair. Then the tide rose and 
 the stranded ship of his fate began to lift a little. By 
 means of a series of accidents the illness of his former 
 school-fellow, the already mentioned George Lovegrove, 
 whose post he offered temporarily to fill he drifted into 
 connection with the banking house of Messrs. Barking 
 Brothers & Barking. There his knowledge of modern 
 languages, his industry, and a certain discreet aloofness 
 commended him to his superiors. A minor clerkship fell 
 vacant ; it was offered to him. And from thenceforth, for 
 Dominic Iglesias, the monotony of fixed routine and steady 
 labour, until the day when, as a man of past fifty, restless 
 and somewhat distrustful both of the present and the 
 future, he watched the dying of the sullen sunset over 
 Trimmer's Green from the windows of the first-floor sit- 
 ting-room of Cedar Lodge.
 
 CHAPTER H 
 
 THAT which had in point of fact happened was not, as 
 Iglesias felt, without a pretty sharp edge of irony. For 
 to-day, London, so long his task-mistress and gaoler, had 
 assumed a new attitude towards him. Suddenly, unex- 
 pectedly, she had cast him off, given him his freedom. It 
 was amazing, a thing to take your breath away for the 
 moment. And agitated and hurt for his pride unques- 
 tionably had suffered in the process Iglesias asked him- 
 self what in the world he should do with this gift of free- 
 dom, what he should do, indeed, with that which remained 
 to him of life. 
 
 It had come about thus. Seeking an interview that 
 morning with Sir Abel Barking, in the tatter's private 
 room at the bank, he had made certain statements regard- 
 ing his own health in justification of a request for some 
 weeks' rest and holiday now, rather than later, in Septem* 
 her, when his yearly vacation would fall due. 
 
 " So you find yourself unequal to dealing satisfactorily 
 with the increasing intricacy of our financial operations, 
 become confused by the multiplicity of detail, suffer from 
 pains in the head? " Sir Abel had commented, with a cer- 
 tain largeness of manner. " I own, my good friend, I was 
 not wholly unprepared for this announcement.'' 
 
 " My work has not so far, I believe, suffered in any 
 respect," Iglesias put in quietly. " Directly I had reason 
 to fear it might suffer I " 
 
 "Of course, of course, I make no complaint none. 
 I go further. I admit that the area of our undertakings 
 is enlarged, enormously enlarged, thanks to the remark- 
 
 15
 
 16 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 able personal energy and strenuous transatlantic business 
 methods introduced by my nephew Reginald. I grant you 
 all that " 
 
 Sir Abel cleared his throat. Seduced by the charms 
 of his own eloquence, he was ready to mount the platform 
 at the shortest possible notice, even in private life. He 
 loved exposition. He loved periods. His critics for 
 what public man is without these, their strictures natu- 
 rally inspired by envy? had been known to add that he 
 also loved platitudes. Be this as it may, certain it is that 
 he loved An audience even of one. He had been consid- 
 erably ruffled this morning by communications made to 
 him by his good-looking and somewhat scapegrace young- 
 est son. Those who fail to rule their own households 
 often find solace in attempting to rule the households of 
 others. Speech and patronage consequently tended to 
 the restoration of self-complacency. 
 
 " No doubt this expansion, these modern methods, con- 
 stitute a tax upon your capacity, my good friend, you 
 having acquired your training under a less exacting sys- 
 tem. I am not surprised. I confess " he leaned back 
 in his chair, with an indulgent smile, as one who should 
 say, " the gods themselves do not wholly escape " " I 
 confess," he repeated, " it is something of a tax upon the 
 capacity of a veteran financier such as myself. But then 
 strain in some form or other, as I frequently remind my- 
 self, is the very master-note of our modern existence. We 
 all experience it in our degree. And there are those men, 
 such as myself, for instance, who from their position, their 
 vast interests and heavy responsibilities, from the almost 
 incalculable issues dependent on their judgment and their 
 action, are called upon to endure this strain in its most 
 exhausting manifestations, who are compelled to subor- 
 dinate personal ease, even health itself, to public obliga- 
 tion. In the end they pay, incontestably they pay, for
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 17 
 
 their self-abnegation, for their unswerving obedience to 
 the trumpet-call of public duty." 
 
 He paused and mused a while, his head raised, his right 
 hand resting it was noticeably podgy and squat on the 
 highly polished surface of the extensive writing-table, his 
 left hand dropped, with a rather awkward negligence, over 
 the arm of his chair. Meanwhile he gazed, as pensively as 
 his caste of countenance permitted, at a portrait of him- 
 self, in the self-same attitude, which adorned the opposite 
 wall. It had been presented to him by the electors of his 
 late constituency. It was life-size and full-length. It had 
 been painted by a well-known artist whose appreciation of 
 the outward as a revelation of the inward man is slightly 
 diabolic in its completeness. The portrait was very clever ; 
 it was also very like. Looking upon it no sane observer 
 could stand in doubt of Sir Abel's eminent respectability 
 or eminent wealth. His appearance exuded both. Un- 
 luckily nature had been niggardly in the bestowal of those 
 more delicate marks of breeding which, both in man and 
 beast, denote distinction of personality and antiquity of 
 race. Pursy, prolific, Protestant, a commonness pervaded 
 the worthy gentleman's aspect, causing him, as compared 
 with his head clerk, Dominic Iglesias standing there 
 patiently awaiting his further utterance to be as is a 
 cheap oleograph to a fine sketch in pen and ink. It may 
 be taken as an axiom that, in body and soul alike, to be 
 deficient in outline is a sad mistake. But of all these little 
 facts and the result of them, Sir Abel was, needless to 
 relate, sublimely ignorant. 
 
 " With you, my good friend, it is otherwise," he re- 
 marked presently, reluctantly removing his gaze from the 
 portrait of himself. " A beneficent Providence has de- 
 vised the law of compensation. And we may remark the 
 workings of it everywhere with instruction and encourage- 
 ment. Hence social obscurity has its compensating ad-
 
 18 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 vantages. You, for example, are affected by none of those 
 considerations of public obligation binding upon myself. 
 You are so situated that you can avoid the more trying 
 consequences of this universal overstrain. If the demands 
 of the position you now fill are too much for you, you can 
 retire. I congratulate you, Iglesias. For some of us it is 
 impossible, it is forbidden to retire." 
 
 The speaker paused, as when in addressing a political 
 or charitable meeting he paused for well-merited applause, 
 secure of having made a telling point. Dominic Iglesias, 
 however, had not applauded. To tell the truth, his back 
 was stiffening a little. He had a very just appreciation 
 of the relative social positions of himself and his em- 
 ployer; still it did not occur to him, somehow, that ap- 
 plause was necessarily in the part. 
 
 " You have the redress in your own hands," Sir Abel 
 went on, not without a hint of annoyance. " If you need 
 amusement, leisure, rest, they are all within your reach." 
 
 Still Iglesias did not speak. 
 
 " See now, my good friend, consider. To be practical " 
 Sir Abel raised his finger and wagged it, with a heavy 
 attempt at bonhomie. " You have no family to provide 
 for? " 
 
 " No," said Mr. Iglesias. 
 
 ; ' You are, in short, not married? " 
 
 ;< No, Sir Abel," he said again. 
 
 "Well, then, no obstacle presents itself. But let us 
 pause a moment, for I must guard myself against mis- 
 conception. In the interests of both public and private 
 morality I am a staunch advocate of marriage." Again 
 he cleared his throat. The platform was conspicuous by 
 s presence in idea. " I hold matrimony to be among 
 the primary duties, nay, to be the primary duty of the 
 Christian and the citizen. We owe it to the race, we owe 
 it to ourselves, we owe it to the opposite sex. Let us be
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 19 
 
 quite clear on this point. Yet, since I deprecate all 
 bigotry, I admit that there may be exceptional cases in 
 which absence of the marital relation, though arguing 
 some emotional callousness, may prove advantageous to 
 the individual." 
 
 A queer light had come into Dominic Iglesias' eyes. 
 The corners of his mouth worked a little. He stood quite 
 still and rather noticeably erect. 
 
 " I do not deny this," Sir Abel continued. " I repeat, 
 I .do not deny it. And yours, my good friend, may be, 
 I am prepared to acknowledge, a case in point. I take 
 for granted, by the way, that you have saved, since your 
 salary has been a liberal one ? " 
 
 Iglesias inclined his head. 
 
 " Clearly we need discuss this matter no further then." 
 The speaker became impressive, admonitory. " Indeed, it 
 appears to me that your lot is a most favoured one. You 
 are free of all encumbrances. You can retire in comfort 
 retire, moreover, with the assurance that your de- 
 parture will cause no inconvenience to myself and my 
 colleagues, since you make room for men younger and 
 more in touch with modern methods than yourself." 
 
 Mr. Iglesias permitted himself to smile. 
 
 " Ah, yes ! " he said. " Possibly I had not taken that 
 fact sufficiently into account." 
 
 " Yet, clearly, it should augment your satisfaction," 
 Sir Abel Barking observed, with a touch of severity. 
 " And, by the by, you can draw your pension. You 
 were entitled, strictly speaking, to do so some years ago 
 four, I believe, to be accurate. This was pointed out 
 to you at the time by my nephew Reginald. He was not 
 at all unwilling that you should retire then ; but you pre- 
 ferred to remain. I had some conversation, at the time, 
 with my nephew on the subject. I insisted upon the fact 
 that your service had been exemplary. I finally succeeded
 
 20 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 in overruling his objection to your retaining your 
 post." 
 
 " I am evidently unde*r a heavy obligation to you, Sir 
 Abel," said Iglesias. 
 
 " Don't mention it don't mention it," the great man 
 answered nobly. " Those in power should try to exercise 
 it to the benefit of their subordinates. It has always been 
 my effort not only to be just, but to be considerate of the 
 interests and feelings of persons in my employment." 
 
 And with that he again fixed his eyes upon the ironical 
 portrait adorning the opposite wall, wholly blind to the 
 fact that it at once revealed his weaknesses and mocked 
 at them, conscious only of an agreeable conviction that 
 he had treated his head clerk with generosity and spoken 
 to him with the utmost good-feeling and tact. 
 
 With the proud it is ever a question whether to spoil 
 the Egyptians, or to fling back even the best-earned wages, 
 payable by Egyptians, full in the said Egyptians' face. 
 For the firm of Barking Brothers & Barking, in the ab- 
 stract, Iglesias had the loyalty of long-established habit. 
 It had been as the rising tide, setting the ship of his fate 
 and fortune honourably afloat in the dismal days of that 
 early stranding. Its service had eaten up the best years 
 of his life, it is true. But, even in so doing, by mere force 
 of constant association, the interests of the great banking 
 house had come to be his own, its schemes and secrets his 
 excitement, its successes his satisfaction. Fortunately the 
 human mind is so constituted that it is possible to have an 
 esteem, amounting to enthusiasm, for a body corporate, 
 while entertaining but scanty admiration for the individ- 
 uals of whom that body is composed fortunately indeed, 
 since otherwise what government, secular or sacred, would 
 long continue to subsist? Hence, to Iglesias, this matter 
 of the pension was decidedly difficult. Pride said, " This 
 man Abel Barking has been offensive; both he and his
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 21 
 
 nephew have been ungrateful; reject it with contempt." 
 Justice said, " You have no quarrel with the firm as a 
 whole; accept it." Common sense, pricked up by anger, 
 said, " Claim your own, take every brass farthing of it." 
 While personal dignity, winding up the case, admonished, 
 " By no means give yourself away. Make no impetu- 
 ous demonstration. Go home and think it quietly over." 
 And with the advice of personal dignity Mr. Iglesias 
 fell in. 
 
 Yet he was still very sore, the heat of anger past, but 
 the smart of it remaining, when he journeyed back from 
 the city later in the day. And not only that after-smart, 
 but a perplexity held him. For two strange faces had 
 looked into his during the last few hours those of Lone- 
 liness and Freedom. He had taken for granted, in a 
 general sort of way, that such personages existed and 
 exercised a certain jurisdiction in human affairs. But in 
 all the course of his laborious life they had never before 
 come close, personally claiming him. He had had no time 
 for them. But they are patient, they only wait. They 
 had time for him plenty of it. Suddenly he understood 
 that; and it perplexed him, for his estimate of his own 
 importance was modest. He even felt apologetic towards 
 them, as one at whose door distinguished guests alight for 
 whose entertainment he has made no adequate provision. 
 He was embarrassed, his sense of hospitality reproaching 
 him. 
 
 It so happened that, on this same return journey, he 
 occupied the seat on the right, immediately behind that of 
 the driver. The sky was covered, the atmosphere close. 
 The horses, grey ones, showed a thick yellowish lather 
 where the collar rubbed their necks and the traces their 
 flanks. They were slack and heavy, and the omnibus 
 hugged the curb. Within it was empty, and on the top 
 boasted but three passengers besides Iglesias himself. It
 
 22 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 followed that, carrying insufficiency of ballast, the great 
 red-painted vehicle lumbered, and jerked, and swayed un- 
 easily ; while the lighter traffic swept past it in a glittering 
 stream, the dominant note of which was black as against 
 the dirty drab of the recently watered wood-pavement. 
 And the character of that traffic was new to Dominic 
 Iglesias, though he had travelled the Hammersmith Road, 
 Kensington High Street and Kensington Gore, Knights- 
 bridge and Piccadilly, back and forth daily, these many 
 years. For the exigencies of business demanding that the 
 hours of his journeying should be early and late, always 
 the same, it came about that the aspect of these actually 
 so-familiar thoroughfares was novel, as beheld in the 
 height of the season at three o'clock in the afternoon. 
 
 At first Iglesias saw without seeing, busy with his own 
 uncheerful thoughts. But after a while he began to spec- 
 ulate idly on the scene around him, turning to the outward 
 and material for distraction, if not for actual comfort. 
 And so the stream of carriages and hansoms, and the con- 
 spicuously well-favoured human beings occupying them, 
 began to intrigue his attention. He questioned whom they 
 might be and whither wending, decked forth in such brave 
 array. They seemed to suggest something divorced from, 
 yet native to, his experience; something he had never 
 touched in fact, yet the right to which was resident in his 
 blood. And with this he ceased, in instinct, to be merely 
 the highly respected and respectable head clerk of Messrs. 
 Barking Brothers & Barking now superannuated and 
 laid on the shelf. A gayer, fiercer, simpler life, quick with 
 violences of vivacious sound and vivid colour, the excite- 
 ment of it heightened by clear shining southern sunshine 
 and blue-black shadow a life undreamed of by conven- 
 tional, slow-moving, rather vulgar middle-class London 
 to which, on the face of it, he appeared as emphatically to 
 belong awoke and cried in Dominic Iglesias,
 
 THE FAR HORIZON S3 
 
 It was a surprising little experience, causing him to 
 straighten up his lean yet shapely figure ; while the burden 
 of his years, and the long monotony of them, seemed 
 strangely lifted off him. Then, with the air of courtly 
 reserve at once the joke and envy of the younger clerks, 
 which had earned him the nickname of " the old Hidalgo " 
 he leaned forward and addressed the omnibus driver. 
 The latter upraised a broad, moist and sleepy countenance. 
 
 *5 Polo at Ranelagh," he answered, in a voice thickened 
 by dust and the laying of that dust by strong waters. 
 " Club team plays ? Undred and First Lancers." 
 
 The words had been to the inquirer pretty much as 
 phrases from the liturgy of an unknown cult. But it was 
 Iglesias' praiseworthy disposition not to be angry with 
 that which he did not happen to understand, so much as 
 angry with himself for not understanding it. 
 
 " Only an additional proof, were it needed, of the 
 prodigious extent of my ignorance ! " he reflected in 
 stoically humorous self-contempt. His eyes dwelt, some- 
 what wistfully, on the glittering stream of traffic, once 
 again those two unbidden guests, Loneliness and Freedom 
 for whose entertainment he had made inadequate pro- 
 vision sitting, as it seemed, very close on either side of 
 him. Then that happened which altered all the values. 
 Dominic Iglesias suddenly saw a person whom he knew. 
 
 He had seen that same person about three hours pre- 
 viously in the bank in Threadneedle Street, while waiting 
 for admittance to Sir Abel's private room. Rumour 
 accredited this handsome young gentleman Sir Abel's 
 youngest son with tastes expensive rather than profit- 
 able, liberal socially, rather than estimable ethically, de- 
 claring him to be distinctly of the nature of the proverbial 
 thorn in the banker's otherwise very prosperous side. He 
 had, so said rumour, the fortune or misfortune, as you 
 chose to take it, of being at once a considerably bad boy
 
 24 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 and a distinctly charming one. Be all that as it might, 
 the young man had certainly presented a grimly anxious 
 countenance when, without so much as a nod of recogni- 
 tion, he had stalked past Mr. Iglesias in the dim light of 
 the glass and mahogany-walled corridor. But now, as 
 the latter noted, his expression had changed, and that very 
 much for the better. The young man's face was flushed 
 and eager, and his teeth showed white and even under his 
 reddish brown moustache. If anxieties still pursued him 
 they were in subjection to one main anxiety, the anxiety 
 to please, which of all anxieties is the most engaging and 
 grace-begetting. 
 
 Just then the traffic was held up, thus enabling 
 Iglesias from his perch on the 'bustop to receive a more 
 than fleeting impression. Two ladies were seated op- 
 posite the young man in the carriage. In them Iglesias 
 recognised persons of very secure social standing. The 
 elder he supposed to be Lady Sokeington Alaric Bark- 
 ing's half-sister to whom, on the occasion of her mar- 
 riage, twelve or thirteen years ago, he had had the expen- 
 sive honour of presenting, in his own name and that of 
 his colleagues, a costly gift of plate. The Other lady, so 
 it appeared to him, was eminently sweet to look upon. She 
 was very young. She leaned a little forward, and in the 
 pose of her delicate figure and the carriage of her pretty 
 head under its burden of pale pink and grey feathers, 
 flowers, and lace he detected further example of that 
 engaging anxiety to please. They made a delightful 
 young couple, the fair seeming of this life and riches of it 
 very much on their side. Mr. Iglesias' chivalrous heart 
 went out to them in silent sympathy and benediction; 
 while, the block being over, his gaze continued to follow 
 them as long as the young girl's slender white-clad back 
 and the young man's flushed and eager face remained dis- 
 tinguishable. Then he started, for he was aware that his
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 25 
 
 unbidden companions had received unexpected reinforce- 
 ment. A third guest had arrived, and looked hard and 
 critically at him. Its name was Old Age, and he found 
 something sardonic in its glance. With all his gentleness 
 of soul, all his innate self-restraint, there remained fight- 
 ing blood in Dominic Iglesias. Therefore, for the moment, 
 recognising with whom he had to deal, a light anything 
 but mild visited his eyes, and a rigidity the straight lines 
 of his chin and lips. Old Age is a sinister visitant even to 
 those who are moderate in demand and clean of life. For 
 it gives to drink of the cup not of pleasure, but merely of 
 patience, of physical loss and intellectual humiliation ; and, 
 once it has laid its spell upon you, you are past all remedy 
 save the supreme remedy of death. And so, at first sight, 
 Iglesias rebelled as do all men turning defiant. Then, 
 being very sane, he gave in to the relentless logic of fact. 
 Silently, yet with all courtesy, he acknowledged the new- 
 comer, and bade it be seated along with the rest. While, 
 after brief pause to rally his pride, and that courage 
 which is the noblest attribute of pride, he turned to things 
 concrete and material once more, finally addressing him- 
 self to the omnibus driver: 
 
 " Pardon me ; polo, as I understand, is a species of 
 game ? " 
 
 The broad moist countenance was again uplifted, a hint 
 of patronage now tempering its good-natured apathy. 
 
 " Sort'er 'ockey on 'orseback." 
 
 " That must be sufficiently dangerous," Mr. Iglesias 
 remarked. 
 
 " Bless you, yes. Players breaks their backs pretty 
 frequent, and cuts the ponies about most cruel " 
 
 He ceased speaking abruptly, jammed the brake down 
 with his heel in response to the conductor's bell, and drew 
 the sweating horses up short to permit the ingress of fresh 
 passengers. This accomplished, the omnibus lumbered
 
 26 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 onwards while Dominic Iglesias fell into further medita- 
 tion. 
 
 The explanation vouchsafed him was still far from ex- 
 plicit; yet this much of illumination he gained from it, 
 namely, the assurance that all these goodly personages, 
 Alaric Barking and his sweet companion among them, 
 were on pleasure bent. One and all they fared forth, on 
 this heavy summer afternoon, in search of amusement in 
 search of that intangible yet very powerful factor in 
 human affairs to which it is given to lift the too great 
 weight of seriousness from mortal life, cheating percep- 
 tion of relentless actualities, helping to restore the bal- 
 ance, helping men to hope, to laugh, and to forget. Per- 
 ceiving all which, conscious moreover of the near neigh- 
 bourhood of Loneliness on the right hand and Old Age on 
 the left, Iglesias began to bestow on these votaries of 
 pleasure a more earnest attention, recognising in them 
 the possessors of a secret which it greatly behoved him to 
 enter into possession of likewise. In what, he asked him- 
 self, did it actually consist, this to him practically un- 
 known quantity, amusement? How was the spirit of it 
 cultivated, the enjoyment of it consciously attained? How 
 far did it reside in inward attitude, how far in outward 
 circumstance? In a word, how did they all do it? It was 
 very incumbent upon him to learn, and he admitted a 
 ridiculous ignorance.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THUS had the chapter of labour ended, and that of leisure 
 opened. And it was with the sadness of things terminated 
 very strongly upon him that, as Frederick, the German- 
 Swiss valet, finished clearing the dinner-table and de- 
 parted, Mr. Iglesias looked forth over the neatly protected 
 verdure of Trimmer's Green in the evening quiet. The 
 smugly pacific aspect of the place irritated him. He was 
 aware of a great emptiness. And very certainly the scene 
 before him offered no solution of the problem of the filling 
 of that emptiness. And somehow or other it had to be 
 filled Iglesias knew that, knew it through every fibre of 
 him or life would be simply insupportable. Meanwhile 
 from the public drawing-room below came sounds of 
 revelry, innocent enough yet hardly calculated to soothe 
 over-strained nerves. Little Mr. Farge whose thin and 
 reedy tenor carried as does a penny whistle gave forth 
 the refrain of a song just then popular in metropolitan 
 music-halls. 
 
 " They're keeping latish hours at the Convalescent 
 Home," piped Mr. Farge; while his friend and devout 
 admirer, Albert Edward Worthington, tore at the banjo 
 strings and the ladies tittered. 
 
 Iglesias listened in a somewhat grim spirit of endurance. 
 On the far side of the Green he could see the gaslights in 
 the Lovegroves' dining-room. These appeared to watch 
 him rather uncomfortably, as with three supplicating and 
 reproachful eyes. He debated whether he would not take 
 his hat, step across, and tell his old friend what had hap- 
 pened it would at least relieve him of the sound of little 
 Farge's serenading. But his pride recoiled somehow. 
 
 27
 
 28 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 Good souls, man and wife, they would be full of solicitude 
 and kindness ; but they would say the wrong thing. They 
 would not understand. How, indeed, should they, being 
 wholly at one with their surroundings unimaginative, 
 domestic, British middle-class, with its virtues and limita- 
 tions aggressively in evidence? George Lovegrove would 
 suggest some minor municipal office, or membership of the 
 local borough council, as a crown of consolation. His 
 wife would skirt round the subject of matrimony. She 
 had done so before now; and Iglesias, while presenting a 
 dignified front to the enemy, had inwardly shuddered. 
 She was an excellent, estimable woman; but when ponder- 
 ously arch, when extensively sly ! Oh, dear no ! It didn't 
 do. Her gambols were too sadly suggestive of those of a 
 skittish hippopotamus. Dominic Iglesias was conscious 
 that he had a skin too little to-night ; he could not witness 
 them with philosophy. The kindliest intention, the best- 
 meant words, might cause him extravagant annoyance. 
 
 He turned away from the window and took a turn the 
 length of the room a tall, distinct, and even stately fig- 
 ure in the thickening dusk. He felt rather horribly deso- 
 late. He was fairly frightened by the greatness of the 
 emptiness, within and about him, engendered by absence 
 of employment. He had little to reproach himself with. 
 His record was cleaner than most men's he could not but 
 know that. He had sacrificed personal ambition, personal 
 happiness, to the service of one supremely dear to him. 
 Not for a moment did he regret it. Had it to be done all 
 over again, without hesitation he would do it. Still there 
 was no blinking facts. Here was the nemesis, not of ill 
 living, but of good namely, emptiness, loneliness, home- 
 lessness, Old Age here at his elbow, Death waiting there 
 ahead. 
 
 ' The routine has gone on too long," he said to him- 
 self bitterly. I have lost my pliability, lost my human-
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 29 
 
 ity. I am a machine now, not a man. To the machine, 
 work is life. Work over, life is over ; and the machine is 
 just so much lumber better broken up and sent to the 
 rag and bottle shop, where it may fetch the worth of its 
 weight as scrap-iron." 
 
 He turned, came back to the open window again and 
 stood there, rather carefully avoiding the three reproach- 
 ful eyes of the Lovegroves' dining-room gaselier, and 
 fixing his gaze on that sullen fierceness of sunset still 
 hanging in the extreme northwest. 
 
 " Unluckily there is no rag and bottle shop where super- 
 annuated bank clerks of five-and-fifty have even the very 
 modest market value of scrap-iron ! " he went on. " Of 
 all kinds of uselessness, that of we godlike human beings 
 is the most utterly obvious when our working day is past. 
 Mental decay and bodily corruption is the ultimate. And, 
 this side of it, a few years of increasing degradation, a 
 mere senseless killing of time until the very unpleasing 
 goal is reached along with a growing selfishness, and 
 narrowness of outlook ; along, possibly, with some develop- 
 ment of senile sensuality, the more detestable because it 
 lacks the provocations of hot blood. Oh ! Dominic 
 Iglesias, Dominic Iglesias, is that the ugly road you are 
 doomed to travel a toothless greed for filling your belly 
 with fly-blown dainties off the refuse-heap ? " 
 
 And through the open window, in sinister accompani- 
 ment to little Mr. Farge's sophisticated and unpastoral 
 pipings, came the voice of the great city herself in answer 
 low, multitudinous, raucous, without emphasis but with- 
 out briefest relief of interval or of pause. And this laid 
 hold strongly of Iglesias' imagination, reminding him of 
 all the intimate wretchedness of that first stranding of 
 the ship of his fate. Reminding him of his long and fruit- 
 less trampings in search of employment good looks, 
 energy, youth itself, seeming but an added handicap
 
 80 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 when London revealed herself to him in her solidarity, 
 revealed herself as a prodigious living creature, awful in 
 her mysterious vigour, ever big with impending birth, 
 merciless with impending death. As she showed herself 
 to him then, with life all untried before him, so she showed 
 herself still when, in the blackness of his present humour, 
 all life worth the name appeared over and passed. He had 
 changed, so he believed, to the point of nullity and final 
 ineptitude. She remained strong, active, relentless as 
 ever. As long ago, so now, she struck him as monstrous. 
 Yet now, though all the conditions were changed, he 
 had, as long ago, an instinct that from her there was 
 no escape. 
 
 " I have served you honestly enough all these years," 
 he said since she had voice to speak, she had also ears 
 to hear, mayhap " and you have taken much and given 
 little. To-day you have turned me off, told me to quit. 
 But where, I ask you, can I go? I am too stiffened by 
 work, unskilled in travel, too unadaptable to begin again 
 elsewhere. Moreover, you hold the record of my experi- 
 ence, all my glad and sorrowful memories. I might try 
 to leave you, but it's no use. I am planted and rooted in 
 you, monstrous mother that you are. If I know myself, 
 I should go only to come back." 
 
 For the moment the calm of long self-control was 
 broken up within him. Dominic Iglesias dwelt, consciously 
 and sensibly, in the horror of the Outer Darkness which 
 horror is known only to that small and somewhat suspect 
 minority of human beings who are also capable, by the 
 operation of the divine mercy, of dwelling in the glory of 
 the Uncreated Light. The swing of the pendulum is equal 
 to right as to left. He was staggered by the misery of 
 his own isolation a stranger, as he suddenly realised, by 
 temperament and ideals, as well as by race! Then res- 
 olutely he turned his back on this, with an instinct of self-
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 81 
 
 preservation directing his thought to things practical 
 and average'. 
 
 For example, that question of the pension concerning 
 which he now found, to his slight surprise, he was no 
 longer the least in doubt. This money was his by right. 
 The hard strain in his nature was dominant to the full 
 he would claim his rights. And since in moments of de- 
 spair the human mind invariably requires a human victim, 
 be it merely a simulacrum, a waxen image of a man to melt 
 in the fires of its humiliation and revolt, Iglesias remem- 
 bered, with much contemptuous satisfaction, the ironical 
 portrait of Sir Abel Barking adorning the wall of the 
 latter's private room at the bank. He hailed the diabolic 
 talent of the artist who had laid bare with such subtle skill 
 the fatuity of his sitter. It was a pretty revenge, very 
 assuaging just now to Iglesias. For the real man, as he 
 reflected, was not the man who sat heavily self-complacent 
 in a library chair, exuding platitudes and pride of patron- 
 age; but the man who hung upon the wall forever ridic- 
 ulous while paint and canvas should last. Thus would he 
 go down to posterity! And to Dominic Iglesias, just now, 
 it seemed very excellent that posterity should know him 
 for the wind-bag hypocrite he essentially was. Securely 
 entrenched behind his own large prosperity, uxorious- 
 ness, paternity, had he not counted his, Iglesias', blessings 
 to him ; counselling amusement, rest, congratulating him 
 on just all that which made for his present distress 
 namely, his obscure position, his enforced idleness, his 
 absence of human ties, the general meagreness of his 
 state in life? The more he thought of the incident, the 
 more it filled him with indignation and disgust. There- 
 fore, very certainly he would claim his pension; claim an 
 infinitesimal but actual fraction of this man's great wealth ; 
 would live long so as to claim it as long as possible, till the 
 paying of it, indeed, should become a weariness to the
 
 32 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 payer. And he would spend it, too, unquestionably he 
 would. Mr. Iglesias* rare and gracious smile had an al- 
 most cruel edge to it. 
 
 " The machine shall become a man again," he said. 
 "And the man shall amuse himself. How, I don't yet 
 know, but I will find out. Work has made me dull and 
 inept." 
 
 He straightened himself up, tired, yet unbroken, de- 
 fiant, aware though the horror of the Outer Darkness 
 was yet upon him of purpose still militant and unspent. 
 
 " Play may make me the reverse of dull and inept. I 
 have always been diligent and methodical. I will continue 
 to be so. This enterprise admits of no delay. I will begin 
 at once, begin to-morrow, to amuse myself." 
 
 It is characteristic of the Latin to see things written 
 in fire and blood, which the slower-brained Anglo-Saxon 
 only sees written in red paint if, indeed, he ever arrives 
 at seeing them written at all. To-night the Latin held 
 absolute sway in Dominic Iglesias. With freedom had 
 come a curious reversion to type. His humour, like his 
 smile, was a trifle cruel. He observed, criticised, judged, 
 condemned unsparingly, all mental courtesies in abeyance. 
 When, therefore, at this juncture the three eyes of the 
 Lovegpoves' dining-room gaselier winked slowly, and 
 closed their lids so to speak ceasing to watch and to 
 supplicate, he suffered no self-reproach. The good, simple 
 couple were shutting up house and going to bed, he sup- 
 posed. They sought repose betimes; and, unless supper 
 had been more aggressively cold and heavy than usual, 
 slept, till broad day, a dreamless sleep. Decidedly it was 
 well he had not taken his hat and stepped across to visit 
 them, for, beyond all question, they would not have under- 
 stood ! The voice of London, for instance, meant nothing 
 to them. They had no notion London had a voice. Still 
 less had they any notion she was a prodigious living crea-
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 33 
 
 ture. London was the place where they resided that was 
 all, and, since the streets are admittedly noisy and dusty, 
 they had taken a house in this genteel and convenient 
 suburb. Of the tremendous life and force of things, mis- 
 called man-made and inanimate, they had no faintest con- 
 ception. Small wonder they went to bed betimes and slept 
 a dreamless sleep! Thinking of which notwithstanding 
 their kindness and affection they became, just now, to 
 Iglesias as truly astonishing phenomena in their line as 
 Sir Abel Barking in his. He saw in them merely speci- 
 mens, though good ones, of the great majority of the 
 British public, a public so overlaid and permeated by con- 
 vention, so parochial in outlook, so hidebound by social 
 tradition and insular prejudice, that it is really less in 
 touch with everlasting fact than the animals it pets, de- 
 moralises, and eats. These at least have instinct, and so 
 are at one with universal nature. In perception, in spon- 
 taneity of action, good Mrs. Lovegrove was as an infant 
 compared to her parrot or her pug. So was little Mr. 
 Farge with his sophisticated warblings so, for that mat- 
 ter, were all the other persons among whom his, Iglesias', 
 lot was cast. His sense of isolation deepened. If amuse- 
 ment was his object, most certainly the society of Trim- 
 mer's Green would not supply it. He must look further 
 afield for all that. 
 
 In the far northwest the last of the sunset had faded; 
 only the cloud remained. Yet the horizon, above the 
 broken line of the house-roofs and chimney-pots, pulsed 
 with light the very earthly light which, in great cities, 
 flares out when the light of heaven dies, to walk the streets, 
 with much else of doubtful loveliness, till it is shamed by 
 the cold chastity of dawn. And along with that outflar- 
 ing, a certain meretricious element introduced itself into 
 the aspect of Trimmer's Green. Across the roadway, the 
 gaslamps showed cones of vivid yet sickly brightness,
 
 34 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 bringing at regular intervals the sharply indented leaves 
 of the plane trees and the shivering silver of the balsam- 
 poplars into an arresting and artificial distinctness. 
 Between were spaces of vacancy and gloom. And from 
 out such a space, immediately opposite, slowly emerged a 
 shambling and ungainly figure, in which Dominic Iglesias 
 recognised the third of his fellow-lodgers, Mr. de Courcy 
 Smyth. His acquaintance with the said lodger was of the 
 slightest, since the latter had but recently entered into 
 residence and rarely appeared at meals. Mrs. Porcher 
 habitually referred to him with a pitying respect as " a 
 gentleman very influential in literary and professional 
 circles, but unfortunate in his married life " ; ending with 
 a sigh and upward glance of her still fine eyes, as one 
 who could sympathise, having herself been through that 
 gate. Influential or not, it occurred to Iglesias that the 
 man presented a sorry spectacle enough. For a minute or 
 so he stood aimlessly in the full glare of a gaslamp. His 
 thin, creasy Inverness cape was thrown back, displaying 
 evening dress. He carried a soft grey felt hat in one 
 hand. His whole aspect was seedy, disappointed, dejected ; 
 his face pale and puffy, his sparse reddish hair and beard 
 but indifferently trimmed. It was borne in upon Iglesias, 
 moreover, that the man was hungry, that he had not 
 and that for some time had enough to eat. Voluntary 
 poverty is among the most beautiful, involuntary poverty 
 among the ugliest, sights upon earth ; and to which order 
 of poverty that of de Courcy Smyth belonged, Mr. 
 Iglesias was in no doubt. This was a sordid sight, a sight 
 of discouragement, adding the last touch to the melan- 
 choly which oppressed him. The seedy figure crossed the 
 road, fumbled for a minute with a latchkey. Then nerve- 
 less footsteps ascended the stairs, passed the door, and 
 took their joyless way up and onward to the bed-sitting- 
 room immediately above.
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 35 
 
 Down below the music had ceased, while sounds arose 
 suggestive of a little playfulness on the part of the two 
 young men in bidding their hostess and Miss Eliza Hart 
 good-night. Very soon the house became silent. But 
 Dominic Iglesias, though tired, was in no humour for 
 sleep. He drew forward a leather-covered armchair and 
 sat near the open window, in at which came a breathing of 
 night wind. This was soothing, touching his forehead as 
 with delicate pressure of a cool and sympathetic hand ; so 
 that, without any sense of surprising transition, he found 
 himself in the garden of the little house in Holland Street, 
 Kensington, once again. The laburnum was in full blos- 
 som, and the breeze uplifted the light drooping branches 
 of it, making all their golden glory dance in the sunshine. 
 There must have been rain in the night, too, for the stone 
 basin was full of water, in which the sparrows were busy 
 washing, sending up tiny iridescent jets and fountains 
 from their swiftly fluttering wings. It was delicious to 
 Dominic. He felt very safe, very gay. Only a heavy ill- 
 favoured tabby cat came from nowhere. It had designs 
 upon the sparrows. Twice it climbed stealthily up the 
 broken bricks and gas clinkers. Twice the little boy drove 
 it away. It was not a nice cat. It had a broad white face, 
 deceitful little eyes, and grey whiskers. It declared it only 
 caught sparrows for their good and for the good of the 
 community. It assured Dominic he was guilty of a grave 
 error of judgment in attempting to interfere. It said 
 a great deal about moral responsibility and the heavy 
 obligations persons of wealth and position owe to them- 
 selves. 
 
 Just then Pascal Pelletier, carrying a square Huntley 
 & Palmer's biscuit tin, containing an infernal machine, 
 under his arm, his angelic countenance radiant in the sun- 
 shine, came down the steps from the dining-room window. 
 And, while Dominic ran to greet him, the cat crept back
 
 36 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 again its face was the face of Sir Abel Barking, and it 
 made a spring at the sparrows. But the pillar broke and 
 the basin toppled over, pinning it, across the loins, down 
 on to the clinkers under the edge of the stone lip. 
 
 "Oh! you've spoilt my garden, you've spoilt my gar- 
 den ! " Dominic cried. " The basin has fallen. The spar- 
 rows will never wash in it any more." 
 
 But Pascal Pelletier patted him on the head tenderly. 
 
 "Do not weep over the fallen basin, very dear one," 
 he said. " Rather sing aloud Te Deum in praise of the 
 glorious goddess of Social Revolution who has delivered 
 the enemy of the people into our hands. This is no affair 
 of cat and bird, but of the capitalist and the proletariat 
 on which he battens. So for a little space let the unholy 
 creature lie there writhing. Let it understand what it is 
 to have a back broken by the weight of an impossible 
 burden. Let it try vainly to drag its limbs from beneath 
 an immovable load. Observe it, let it suffer. Very soon 
 we will finish with it, and explode the iniquitous system it 
 represents. See, in the name of humanity, of labour, of 
 the unknown and unnumbered millions of the martyred 
 poor, I set a match to this good little fuse, and, with the 
 rapidity of thought, blow blasphemous tyrant Capital into 
 a thousand fragments of reeking flesh and splintered 
 bone!" 
 
 But to the little boy, words and spectacle alike had be- 
 come unendurably painful. 
 
 ' No, no, Pascal, you cannot cure everything that way. 
 It is not just," he cried. And running forward with all 
 his strength he lifted the stone basin off the wounded 
 creature cat, man, beast of prey, modern financier, be it 
 what it might. He stooped to gather it up in his arms, 
 and, repulsive though it was, to comfort and protect it. 
 But just then came a thunderous rattle and crash knock- 
 ing him senseless.
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 37 
 
 Mr. Iglesias sat bolt upright in his chair, uncertain of 
 his identity and surroundings, shaken and bewildered. 
 
 Upstairs, de Courcy Smyth spent and stupefied by the 
 writing of a would-be smart critique on the first-night per- 
 formance of a screaming farce, for one of to-morrow's 
 evening papers had stumbled, upsetting the fire-irons, 
 as he slouched across his room to bed. Iglesias heard the 
 creak of the wire-wove mattress as the man flung himself 
 down ; and that familiar sound restored his sense of actual- 
 ities. Yet all his mood was changed and softened. The 
 return to childhood had made a strange impression upon 
 him, filling him with a great nostalgia for things appar- 
 ently lost, but exquisite; and which, having once been, 
 might, though he knew not by what conceivable alchemy 
 of time or chance, once again be. Meanwhile, he must 
 have slept long, for the wind had grown chill. The voice 
 of London, the monstrous mother, had grown weak and 
 intermittent. And the earthly light, pulsing along the 
 horizon, had grown faint, humbled and chastened by the 
 whiteness of approaching dawn.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 A QUAUTEK-MLLE range of high unpainted oak paling, 
 well seasoned, well carpentered, innocent of chink or 
 shrinkage, impervious to the human eye. Visible above 
 it the domed heads of enormous elm trees steeped in sun- 
 shine, rising towards the ample curve of the summer sky. 
 At intervals, with tumultuous rush and scurry, the thud 
 of the hoofs of unseen horses, galloping for all they are 
 worth over grass. The suck and rub of breeches against 
 saddle-flaps, the rattle of a curb chain or the rings of 
 a bit. A call, a challenge, smothered exclamations. The 
 long-drawn swish of the polo stick through the air, and 
 the whack of the wooden head of it against ball, or 
 ground, or something unluckily softer and more sentient. 
 A pause, broken only by distant voices, and the sound, 
 or rather sense, of men and horses in quiet and friendly 
 movement; followed by the tumultuous rush and scurry, 
 and all the moving incidents of the heard, yet unwitnessed, 
 drama over again. 
 
 For here it was that gallant and costly game beloved 
 of Oriental princes rather baldly described to Mr. 
 Iglesias yesterday by the driver of the Hammersmith 
 'bus as a " kind of hockey on horseback " in very full 
 swing no doubt. Only unfortunately Iglesias found 
 himself on the wrong side of the palings. And, since 
 he had learned, indirectly, from the observations of 
 the monumental police-sergeant directing the stream of 
 carriages at the entrance gates to other would-be spec- 
 tators, that to the polo ground, as to so much else 
 obviously desirable in this world, there is " no admission 
 except by ticket," on the wrong side of these same palings 
 
 38
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 39 
 
 he recognised he was fated to stay. It was a disappoint- 
 ment, not to say an annoyance. For he had come forth, 
 in accordance with his determination, to make observa- 
 tions and inquiries regarding that same matter of amuse- 
 ment. And, since the influence of that which is to be 
 acts upon us almost, if not quite, as strongly as the in- 
 fluence of that which has been, the handsome, eager coun- 
 tenance of young Alaric Barking and the graceful figure 
 of his fair companion, as seen from the 'bustop, occurred 
 very forcibly in this connection to Dominic Iglesias' mind. 
 He would go forth and behold that which they had gone 
 forth to behold. He would witness the sports of the well- 
 born and rich. From these he elected, somewhat proudly, 
 to take his first lessons in the fine art of amusement. So 
 here he was ; and here, too very much here were the 
 palings, spelling failure and frustration of purpose. 
 
 Fortunately unwonted exercise and the pure invigorat- 
 ing atmosphere tended to generate placidity, and agree- 
 able harmony of the mental and physical being. It fol- 
 lowed that active annoyance was short-lived. For a 
 minute or two Mr. Iglesias loitered, listening to the mov- 
 ing music of the unseen game. Then, walking onward 
 to the end of the enclosure, where the palings turn away 
 sharply at the left, he crossed the road and made for a 
 wooden bench just there amiably presenting itself. It 
 was pleasant to rest. The walk had been a long one; 
 but it now appeared to him that the labour of it had 
 not been wholly in vain. For around him stretched a 
 breezy common, broken by straggling bramble and furze 
 brakes, and dotted with hawthorn bushes, upon the top- 
 most branches of which the crowded pinkish-white blos- 
 soms still lingered. From one to another small birds 
 flitted with a pretty dipping flight, uttering quick de- 
 tached notes as in merry question and answer. Through 
 the rough turf the bracken pushed upward, uncurling
 
 40 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 sturdy croziers of brownish green. Away to the right, 
 beyond the railway line, rose the densely wooded slopes 
 of Roehampton and Sheen; while, against the purple- 
 green gloom of them, the home signals of Barnes Station 
 hard white lines and angles tipped with scarlet and 
 black stood out in high relief like the gigantic char- 
 acters of some strange alphabet. Down the wide road 
 motors ground and snorted; and carriages moved slowly, 
 two abreast, the menservants sitting at ease, talking and 
 smoking while waiting to take up at the police-guarded 
 gate, back there towards the heat and smoke of London, 
 when the polo match should be played out. 
 
 But immediately London, the heat, and smoke, and 
 raucous voice of it, seemed far enough away, the whole- 
 some charm of the country very present. For a while 
 Dominic Iglesias yielded himself up to it. Receptive, 
 quiescent, contented, he basked in the sunshine, his mind 
 vacant of definite thought. But for a while only. For 
 as physical fatigue wore off, definite thought returned; 
 and with it the sense of his own loneliness, the oppres- 
 sion of a future empty of work, the bitterness of this 
 enhanced by the little disappointment he had lately suf- 
 fered. He leaned forward, his hands clasped between his 
 knees, looking at the bracken croziers pushing bravely 
 upward through the rough turf to air and light. Even 
 these blind and speechless things worked, in a sense, ful- 
 filling the law of their existence. He went back on the 
 dream of last night, on his own childhood, the happiness, 
 yet haunting unspoken anxiety of it, his father's fanati- 
 cism, fierce revolutionary propaganda, and mysteriously 
 uncertain fate. 
 
 "And to think that was the pit out of which I, of 
 all men, was digged!" he said to himself. "Have I 
 done something to restore the family balance in respect 
 of right reason, or is the shame of incapacity upon me?
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 41 
 
 Have I sacrificed myself, or cowardly have I merely 
 shirked living? Heaven knows I don't, only " 
 
 But here his uncheerful meditations were broken in on 
 by a voice, imperative in tone, yet perceptibly shaken 
 by laughter. 
 
 " Cappadocia ! " it called. " Cappadocia ! Do you 
 hear? Come here, you little reprobate." 
 
 Then Dominic Iglesias perceived that he had ceased 
 to b,e sole occupant of the bench. A dog, a tiny toy 
 spaniel, sat beside him. It sidled very close, gazing at 
 him with foolishly prominent eyes. Its ears, black edged 
 with tan, soft and lustrous as floss silk, hung down in 
 long lappets on either side its minute and melancholy 
 face. The tip of its red tongue just showed. It was 
 abnormally self-conscious and solemn. It planted one 
 fringed paw upon Iglesias' arm and it snored. 
 
 " Cappadocia ! well, of all the cheeky young beg- 
 gars " 
 
 This time the voice broke in unmistakable merriment, 
 wholly spontaneous, as of relief, even of mischievous 
 triumph ; and Mr. Iglesias, looking up, found himself 
 confronted by a young woman. She advanced slowly, 
 her trailing string-coloured lace skirts gathered up lazily 
 in one hand. About her shoulders she wore a long blue- 
 purple silk scarf, embroidered with dragons of peacock, 
 and scarlet, and gold. These rather violent colours 
 found repetition in the nasturtium leaves and flowers 
 that crowned her lace hat, the wide brim of which was 
 tied down with narrow strings of purple velvet, gipsy 
 fashion, beneath her chin. Under her arm she carried 
 another tiny spaniel, the creature's black morsel of a 
 head peeping out quaintly from among the forms of the 
 embroidered dragons, which last appeared to writhe, as 
 in the heat of deadly conflict, as their wearer moved. Her 
 face was in shadow owing to the breadth of the brim of
 
 42 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 her hat. Otherwise the sunshine embraced her whole 
 figure, conferring on it a glittering yet singularly un- 
 substantial effect, as though a column of pale windswept 
 dust were overlaid, here and there, with splendour of rich 
 enamel. 
 
 And it was just this effect of something unsubstantial, 
 in a way fictitious and out of relation to sober fact, which 
 struck Dominic Iglesias, robbing him for the moment 
 of his dignified courtesy. Frankly he stared at this ap- 
 pearance, so strangely at variance with the realities of 
 his own melancholy thought. Meanwhile the little dog 
 snuggled up yet closer against him. 
 
 " Yes pray don't disturb yourself," the young lady 
 went on volubly. " It's too bad, I know, to intrude on 
 you like this. But as Cappadocia refuses to come to me, 
 it is clear I have to come after Cappadocia. It's simply 
 disgraceful the way she carries on when one takes her out, 
 making acquaintances like this, casually, all over the 
 place. The maids flatly refuse to air her, even on a 
 string. They say it becomes a little too compromising. 
 But, as I explain to them, she's not a bit the modern 
 woman. She belongs to a stage of social development 
 when pretty people infinitely preferred being compromised 
 to being squelched." The speaker laughed again quietly. 
 " I'm not altogether sure they weren't right. When you 
 are squelched, finished, done for, it matters precious little 
 whether you've been compromised first or not. Don't you 
 agree? Any way, Cappadocia's not going to be squelched 
 if she can help it. She's horribly scared, or pretends to 
 be, at motors. Let one toot and she forgets all her fine- 
 lady manners, and just skips to anybody for protection. 
 She'll take refuge in the most unconventional places to 
 escape." 
 
 The part of wisdom, in face of this very forthcoming 
 young person, would have been no doubt to arise and
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 43 
 
 withdraw. But to Dominic Iglesias, just then, dogs, 
 woman, conversation, were alike so remote and unreal, 
 part merely of the scene which he had been contem- 
 plating, that he failed to take them seriously. Divorced 
 from routine, he was divorced, in a way, from habitual 
 modes of mind and conduct. He neither consented nor 
 refused, but just let things happen, attaching little or 
 no meaning to them. If this feminine being chose to 
 prattle well, let her do so. Really he did not care. 
 
 " I am not very modern myself," he said, with a shade 
 of weariness. " So perhaps your small dog had some 
 intuition of a kindred spirit when taking refuge with 
 me." 
 
 " All the same, you hardly date from the social era of 
 Charles II., I fancy," the young lady answered quickly. 
 
 As she spoke she raised her chin with a slightly im- 
 pudent movement, thus bringing her countenance into 
 the sunlight. For the first time Iglesias clearly saw her 
 face. - It was small, the features insignificant, the skin 
 smooth and fine in texture, but sallow. Her hair, black 
 and very massive, was puffed out and dressed low, hiding 
 her ears. Her lips were rather positively red, and the 
 tinge of colour on either cheek, though slight, was not 
 wholly convincing in tone. Even to a person of Mr. 
 Iglesias' praiseworthy limitation of experience in such 
 matters, her face was vaguely suggestive of the footlights 
 would have been distinctly so but for her eyes. These 
 were curiously at variance with the rest of her appear- 
 ance. They belonged to a quite other order of woman, 
 so to speak a woman of finer physique, of higher in- 
 telligence, possibly of nobler purposes. They were ar- 
 restingly large in size, thereby helping to dwarf the pro- 
 portions of her face. In colour they were a rather light 
 warm hazel, with a slight film over both iris and pupil, 
 and a noticeably bluish shade in the whites of them. In
 
 44 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 these last particulars they were like a baby's eyes; but 
 very unlike in the reflective intensity of their observation 
 as she fixed them upon Dominic Iglesias. 
 
 " Cappadocia may be a fool about motors," she re- 
 marked, " but she's uncommonly shrewd in reading char- 
 acter. She seems to like you, to have taken you on, 
 don't you know; and she's generally right. So I'll sit 
 down, please. Oh ! no, no, come along now " this as Mr. 
 Iglesias rose and made a movement to depart " why, 
 dear man, the very point of the whole show is that you 
 should sit down, too."
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 ' 
 
 AND so it came about that the Lady of the Windswept 
 Dust sat at one end of the flat bench and Dominic Iglesias 
 at the other, with the two absurd and exquisite little dogs 
 in between. And the lady chattered. Her voice was 
 sweet and full, with plaintive tones and turns of laughter 
 in it ; and, though the vowel sounds were not wholly im- 
 peccable, having the tang in them common to the speech of 
 the? cockney bred, the aspirates happily remained invio- 
 late. And Iglesias listened, still with a curious indiffer- 
 ence, as, sitting in the body of the house, he might have 
 listened to patter from the other side of the footlights. 
 It passed the time. Presently he would get up, taking 
 the whole of his rather sorrowful personality along 
 with him, and go out by the main entrance, while she 
 left by the stage door and so vanished, little dogs 
 and all. 
 
 " It's my habit to play fair," she announced. " If 
 I'm going to ask personal questions at the finish, I always 
 lead up to them by supplying personal information at 
 the start. It's mean to induce other people to give them- 
 selves away unless you give yourself away first also, 
 I observe it is usually quite unsuccessful. Well, then, to 
 begin with, his name " she gently poked the tiny spaniel 
 beside her, causing it to wriggle uneasily all the length 
 of its satiny back " is Onions. Graceful and distin- 
 guished, isn't it? But I give you my word I couldn't 
 help myself. Cappadocia's so duchessy that I had to 
 knock the conceit out of her somehow, or it would not 
 have been possible to live with her. She was altogether 
 too smart for me used to look at me as if I was a 
 cockroach. So I consulted a friend of mine about it; 
 
 45
 
 46 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 for it's a little too much to be made to feel like a black- 
 beetle in your own house, and by a thing of that size, 
 too! And he my friend said there is nothing to com- 
 pare with a mesalliance for taking the stuffing out of any- 
 one. I own I was not exactly off my head about that 
 speech of his. In a way it was rather a facer; but 
 when I got cool I saw he was right. After all, he knew, 
 
 and I knew and he knew that I knew " 
 
 The lady paused. Her voice had taken on a plaintive 
 inflection. She looked away at the domed heads of the 
 enormous elm trees above the range of oak palings. 
 
 " For the life of me I can't imagine why you're here," 
 she exclaimed, " instead of inside there with all the rest 
 of them! However, we haven't got as far as that yet. 
 I was telling you about my King Charleses. So my friend 
 brought me this one " again she poked the little dog 
 gently. " His pedigree's pretty fair, but of course it's 
 not a patch on Cappadocia's. Her prizes and the pup- 
 pies you don't mind my alluding quite briefly to the 
 puppies are a serious source of income to me. But I 
 believe she would have ignored the defective pedigree. He 
 I is rather nice-looking, you see, and Cappadocia is rather 
 superficial. It is the name that worries her Onions, 
 Willie Onions, that's where the real trouble comes in. Not 
 like it? I believe you. She's capable of saving up all 
 her pocket-money to buy him a foreign title, as a rich, 
 ugly woman I once knew did who married a man called 
 Spittles. He was a bad lot when she married him, and 
 he stayed so. But as the Comte d'Oppitale it didn't 
 matter. Vices became merely quaint little eccentricities. 
 If he beat her it was with an umbrella with a coronet 
 on the handle, and that made all the difference. Every- 
 thing for the shop window, you see, with a nature like 
 hers or Cappadocia's. But I don't rub it in, I assure 
 you I don't I only remind Cappadocia of the fact by
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 47 
 
 calling her Mrs. W. O. when she's a pest and a terror. 
 And that's better than smacking her, anyhow, isn't it? " 
 
 To this proposition Mr. Iglesias gravely assented. 
 The lady drew her blue-purple scarf a little closer about 
 her shoulders, causing the embroidered dragons to writhe 
 as in the heat of conflict, while the sunlight glinted on 
 the gold thread of their crests and claws, and glittered 
 in their jewelled eyes. She gazed at the elm trees again. 
 
 " It's quite nice to hear you speak, you know," she 
 remarked parenthetically. " The conversation has been 
 a little one-sided so far. I was beginning to be afraid 
 you might be bored. But now it's all right. I flourish 
 on encouragement! So, to go on, my name is Poppy 
 Poppy St. John Mrs. St. John. Rather good, isn't 
 it?" 
 
 " Distinctly so," said Mr. Iglesias. Her unblushing 
 effrontery began to entertain him somewhat. And then 
 he had sallied forth in search of amusement. This was 
 not the form of amusement he would have selected; but 
 since it presented itself? 
 
 " I'm glad you like it," she returned. " I've always 
 thought it rather telling myself an improvement on Mrs. 
 Willie Onions, anyhow. Oh ! yes, a vast improvement," 
 she repeated. " My friend was quite right. I tell you 
 it's an awful handicap to have a name which gives you 
 away socially. The man, the husband, I mean, may be 
 the best of the good. Still, it's difficult to forgive him 
 for labelling you with some stupidity like that. There's 
 no getting away from it. You feel like a bottle of pickles, 
 or boot-polish, or a tin of insecticide whenever a servant 
 announces you. Everybody knows where you do and 
 don't come in. But, to go on, I am barely three only 
 I fancy you are the sort of person who is rather rough 
 on lying, aren't you? Well, in that case, quite between 
 ourselves I am just turned nine-and- twenty."
 
 48 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 She faced round on Dominic Iglesias, fixing on him 
 those curiously arresting eyes, which at once emphasised 
 and redeemed the commonness of her face, as the sweet- 
 ness of her voice emphasised and redeemed the common- 
 ness of her accent, and the quietude of her manner and 
 movements mitigated the impertinence of her words and 
 vulgarity of her diction. 
 
 " And really that's about all it is necessary for you 
 to know at present," she asserted. " We shall see later, 
 if we keep it up if Cappadocia keeps it up, I mean, of 
 course. She is fearfully gone on you now, that's clear; 
 and she may be capable of a serious attachment. I 
 can't tell. An unfortunate marriage has been known to 
 turn that way before now. Anyhow, we'll give her the 
 benefit of the doubt." 
 
 Poppy laughed softly, leaning forward and still look- 
 ing at Mr. Iglesias from under the shadow of her wide- 
 brimmed hat. 
 
 " Now," she said, " come along. I've shown you I 
 play fair all round, even to a stuck-up little monkey of 
 a thing like Cappadocia. It's your turn to stand and 
 deliver. I had been watching you and speculating for 
 ever so long before our introduction. Tell me, who on 
 earth are you ? " 
 
 Iglesias' figure stiffened a little; but it was impossible 
 to be annoyed with her. To begin with, she was too 
 unreal, too unsubstantial a being. And, to go on with, 
 invincible good-temper is so very disarming. 
 
 "Who am I? Nobody," he answered gravely. 
 
 " Bless us, here's a find ! " Poppy cried, apparently 
 addressing the little dogs. "Hasn't he so much of a 
 name even as Willie Onions? Where's it gone to? It 
 must be nearly as awkward for him as it was for the 
 man who had no shadow. Come, though," she added in 
 tones of remonstrance, "you must play fair. Cards on
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 49 
 
 the table and no humbugging. To put it another way, 
 what do you do? " 
 
 " Since yesterday, nothing," he answered. 
 
 The young lady regarded him with increasing interest. 
 
 " But, my gentle lunatic," she said, " you didn't 
 exactly begin your acquaintance with this planetary 
 sphere yesterday couldn't, you know, though you are 
 very beautiful to look at. So, if you don't very particu- 
 larly much mind, we'll hark back to before yesterday." 
 
 Dominic Iglesias' gravity gave way slightly. He 
 smiled in spite of his natural pride and reticence. 
 
 " For over thirty-five years I was a clerk in a city 
 bank." 
 
 " Pshaw ! " Poppy cried hotly. *' And pray what 
 variety of congenital idiot do you take me for? If you 
 are going to decline upon fiction, please let it be of a 
 higher order than that. I tell you it's unworthy of 
 you!" 
 
 She pursed up her lips and moved her head slowly from 
 side to side in high disgust. 
 
 "Don't be childish," she said. "Don't be trans- 
 parently silly. If you want to gas, do put a little more 
 intelligence into it. You you out of sight the most 
 distinguished-looking man I've ever met except Lord 
 well, we won't name names, it sounds showy you a clerk 
 
 in a city bank! There, excuse me, but simply " 
 
 Poppy snapped her fingers like a pair of castanets, 
 making the little dogs start and whimper. " Fiddle ! " 
 she cried ; " tell it to a bed-ridden spinster in a blind 
 asylum ! Fiddle-de-dee ! " 
 
 And for the life of him Dominic Iglesias could not 
 help laughing. It was a new sensation. It occurred to 
 him that he had not laughed for years hardly since 
 the days of poor Pascal Pelletier and the little garden in 
 Holland Street, Kensington.
 
 50 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 Poppy watched him, her eyes dancing. Her expres- 
 sion was very charming, wholly unselfconscious, in a 
 way maternal, just then. But Iglesias was hardly sensi- 
 ble of it. 
 
 " That's good," she said. " Now you'll feel a lot better. 
 I saw there was something wrong with you from the start 
 which needed breaking up. Now, suppose you quit inade- 
 quate inventions and just tell the truth." 
 
 " Unfortunately, I have done so already," Mr. Iglesias 
 said. 
 
 The lady paused a moment, her face full of inquiry and 
 doubt. 
 
 " Honest injun? " 
 
 The term was not familiar to her hearer, but he judged 
 it to be of the nature of an asseveration, and assented. 
 
 " And do you mean to tell me that for all those years 
 you went through that drudgery every day? " 
 
 " I had my Sundays," Iglesias answered ; " and, since 
 their invention, my bank holidays. Latterly I got three 
 weeks' holiday in the summer, formerly a fortnight." 
 
 Laughter had speedily evaporated; and, his harsher 
 mood returning upon him, Iglesias found a certain bitter 
 enjoyment in setting forth the extreme meagreness of his 
 life before this light-hearted, unsubstantial piece of 
 womanhood. Again he classed her with the absurd and 
 exquisite little dogs as something superfluous, out of 
 relation to sad and sober realities. 
 
 " And yet you manage to look as you do ! It beats 
 me," Poppy declared. " I tell you it knocks me out of 
 time completely. For, if you'll excuse my being personal, 
 there is an air about you not usually generated by an 
 office stool at least, in my experience. Where do you 
 get it from? You can't be English? " 
 
 " I am a Spaniard by extraction," Mr. Iglesias said, 
 with a slight lift of the head.
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 51 
 
 " There now, my dear man, don't you go and freeze 
 up again. We were just beginning to get along so 
 nicely," Poppy put in quickly. " I am having a capital 
 good time, and you're not having an altogether bad 
 one, are you? But, tell me, how long ago were you 
 extracted? " 
 
 " Very long ago. I was brought to England as a 
 baby child." 
 
 " Oh ! I didn't mean it that way," she returned. " I 
 was not touching on the unpardonable subject of age; 
 not that it would matter much in your case, for you are 
 one of the lucky sort with whom age does not count. I 
 only meant are you an all-round foreigner? " 
 
 " Practically my mother was partly Irish." 
 
 Dominic Iglesias looked away to those densely wooded 
 slopes of Sheen and Roehampton, against the purple- 
 green gloom of which the home signals of Barnes Station 
 hard white lines and angles tipped with scarlet and 
 black stood out like the gigantic characters of some 
 strange alphabet. The air was sweet with the scent of 
 new-mown hay. The birds flirted up and down the haw- 
 thorn bushes and furze brakes. It was all very charm- 
 ing; yet that same emptiness and distrust of the future 
 were very present to Iglesias. He forgot all about his 
 companion, aware only that those two unbidden guests, 
 Old Age and Loneliness, stood close beside him, claiming 
 harbourage and entertainment. 
 
 " Ah ! your mother," Poppy said slowly, with the 
 slightest perceptible inflection of mockery. " And she 
 is alive still? " 
 
 Dominic Iglesias turned upon the poor Lady of the 
 Windswept Dust fiercely. She had come too close, come 
 from her proper place were not her lips painted? be- 
 hind the footlights, and laid her hands upon that which 
 was holy. He was filled with unreasoning anger towards
 
 52 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 her anger towards himself, too, that he should have de- 
 parted from his habitual silence and reticence, submitted 
 to be cross-questioned, and listened to her feather-headed 
 patter so long. He rose to his feet, for the moment 
 young, alert, full of a pride at once militant and pro- 
 tective. 
 
 " God forbid ! " he said sternly. " Dear saint 'and 
 martyr, she is safe from all misreading at last. She is 
 dead." 
 
 He stood a moment trying to choke down his anger 
 before addressing her again. 
 
 " It is time I should go," he said presently. " I think 
 we have talked enough." 
 
 But Poppy St. John presented a singular appearance. 
 All the audacity had departed from her. She sat huddled 
 together, looking very small and desolate; her eyes the 
 one noble feature of her face swimming with tears. 
 
 " No, no ; don't go," she cried in tones of childlike 
 entreaty. "Why should you go? I like you, and I 
 meant no harm. I've had the beastliest day, and meet- 
 ing you was a let-up. You did me good somehow. Cap- 
 padocia was quite right in taking to you. I only wanted 
 to know about you because well, you are different. 
 Pshaw, don't tell me. I know what I am talking about. 
 You're straight. You're good right through." 
 
 The words were poured forth so rapidly that Iglesias 
 hardly gathered the exact purport of them. But one 
 thing was clear to him namely, that this frivolous and 
 meretricious being must be human after all, since she 
 could suffer. 
 
 " Don't go," she repeated. "I'm miserable. I'll ex- 
 plain. I'll tell you. Just sit down again. It would be 
 awfully kind. You see, I've been expecting a friend. It 
 was all-important I should see him to-day, because there 
 were things to be said. I've been awake half the night
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 53 
 
 screwing up my courage to saying them. And then he 
 never turned up, I got nerves waiting hour after hour 
 anybody would, waiting like that. And I began to im- 
 agine every kind of pestilent disaster." 
 
 Poppy swallowed a little and dabbed her pocket- 
 handkerchief against her eyes. 
 
 "J shall be all right in a minute," she went on. " Do 
 sit down, please. You say you're nobody and have 
 nettling to do, so you can't very well be in a hurry. I 
 am like this sometimes. It's awfully silly, but I can't 
 help it. Some rotten trifle sets me off, and then I can't 
 stop myself. I begin to go over all my worst luck. 
 Doesn't it occur to you there's no earthly good in stand- 
 ing?- It obliges me to talk loud, and it's stupid to take 
 all Barnes Common into our confidence. Thanks ; that's 
 very nice of you. Well, you see when I'm like this, the 
 flood-gates of memory are opened which sounds pretty 
 enough, but the prettiness is strictly limited to the sound 
 for most of us, at least as far as my experience goes. 
 The water is generally a bit dirty, and there are too many 
 dead things floating about in it; and, when they reel by, 
 as the current takes them, they turn and seem to struggle 
 and come half alive." 
 
 She paused, hitching the embroidered dragons up about 
 her shoulders. 
 
 " That is why I put on this scarf to-day. It was 
 given me by a man who was awfully fond of me before 
 I married. He bought it in the bazaar at Peshawur, 
 and sent it home to me just as he was starting on one 
 of those little frontier wars the accounts of which they 
 keep out of the English papers. And he was killed, 
 poor dear old boy, in some footy little skirmish. And 
 this is all I've got left of him." 
 
 Poppy spread out the ends of the scarf for Mr. Iglesias* 
 inspection.
 
 54 
 
 " It must have cost a lot of money. The stones are 
 real, you see ; and that gold thread is tremendously heavy. 
 Just feel the weight. It was all his people's doing. They 
 didn't consider me smart enough for him or rather for 
 themselves. They weren't anybody in particular, but 
 they were climbing. The society microbe had bitten them 
 badly. So they bundled him off to India. What another 
 pair of shoes it would have been for me if he'd lived ! At 
 least it seems so to me when I'm down on my luck, as I am 
 to-day. But after all, I don't know." Poppy began to 
 be impudent, to laugh again, though somewhat brokenly. 
 " Sometimes I don't believe one can count on any of you 
 men till you are well dead, and then you're not much use, 
 you know, faithful or unfaithful." 
 
 She dabbed her eyes once more and looked at Mr. 
 Iglesias, smiling ruefully. 
 
 " Life's a pretty rotten business, at times, all round, 
 isn't it? " she said. " You must have found it so with 
 that thirty years' drudgery in a city bank. By the way, 
 what bank was it? " 
 
 And Dominic Iglesias, touched by that very human 
 story, attracted, in spite of himself, by the frankness 
 of his companion, a little shaken by the novelty of the 
 whole situation, answered mechanically: 
 
 :< The bank? Oh, yes! Messrs. Barking Brothers & 
 Barking of Threadneedle Street." 
 
 For a moment Poppy sat silent, her mouth round as 
 an O. Then she drew her open hand down sharply be- 
 hind poor Willie Onions, and shot the small dog, in a 
 sitting position, off the bench on to the rough grass. His 
 fringed legs stuck out stiff as sticks, while his enormous 
 lappets of ears flew up and back, giving him the most 
 wildly demented appearance during this brief inglorious 
 flight through space. 
 
 "Catch birds!" she cried, "catch birds, I tell you?
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 55 
 
 Think of your figure. My good child, take exercise or 
 you'll be as round as a tub ! " 
 
 She clapped her hands encouragingly, but the little 
 animal, half-scared, half-offended, came closer, fawning 
 upon her trailing string-coloured skirts. Poppy leaned 
 down, resting her elbows upon her knees, and flapped at 
 the unhappy Onions with her handkerchief. 
 
 "Go away, you silly billy. Have a little decent pride, 
 can/t you? Don't bestow attentions when they're un- 
 welcome." Then she addressed herself to Mr. Iglesias, 
 but without looking up. " I beg your pardon, all this 
 must seem rather abrupt. But sometimes one's duty to 
 one's family takes one on the jump, as you may say; 
 and one repairs neglect right away also on the jump. 
 But but there's one thing I should like to know 
 when I told you my name just now Poppy St. John, 
 Mrs. St. John you remember? " 
 
 " I remember," he said. 
 
 " Well, didn't it convey didn't it mean anything 
 special to you? " 
 
 " I am afraid not," Iglesias answered. " You must 
 pardon my ignorance, since I have lived very much out 
 of the world. I know nothing of society." 
 
 " So much the better. The world is a vastly over- 
 rated place, and society is about the biggest fraud 
 going." She left off teasing the little dog, sat bolt 
 upright, and looked full at Dominic Iglesias, her eyes 
 serious, redeeming all the insignificance of her features 
 and those little doubtful details of the general effect 
 of her. " Don't make any mistake about either of 
 them," she said. " Let the world and society alone as 
 you value your peace of mind and independence. They're 
 dead sea fruit to all outsiders such as well you and 
 me. I hate them; only they've got me, and will have 
 me in some form or other till the end, I suppose. But
 
 56 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 you are different, and I warn you " Poppy's voice took 
 on an odd inflection of mingled bitterness and tenderness 
 " they are not a bit adapted for a beautiful, innocent, 
 uncrowned king like you." 
 
 She got up as she spoke, gathering her trailing skirts 
 about her, and called sharply to the little dogs. 
 
 " The dew is rising," she said, " and Cappadocia's 
 a regular cry-baby if she gets her feet wet. I must take 
 her home. There's my card. You see the address? 
 You can come when you like, only let me know the day 
 beforehand, because I should be sorry to have people 
 with me or to be out. Cappadocia '11 want you. So 
 shall I. You do me good. I'll play quite fair, I promise 
 you. Good-night." 
 
 The sun stood in a triumph of crimson and gold, 
 which passed into the fine blue of a belt of earth mist. 
 Eastward the sky blushed, too, but with brazen blushes, 
 tarnished by the breath of the great city the pure blue 
 of the earth mist exchanged for the murk of coal smoke 
 and the thousand and one exhalations of steaming streets, 
 public-houses and restaurants. Poppy St. John walked 
 slowly along the footpath, her figure dyed by the efful- 
 gence of the skies to the crimson and gold of her name. 
 About her shoulders the embroidered dragons glittered as 
 she moved, while the two tiny spaniels trotted humbly at 
 her heels. For a brief space she showed absolutely 
 resplendent. Then suddenly an interposing terrace of 
 smart much-be-balconied and beflowered little houses shut 
 off the sunset ; and in their rather vulgar shadow Dominic 
 Iglesias, watching, beheld her transformed into the un- 
 substantial, in a way fictitious, Lady of the Windswept 
 Dust and of the footlights once again.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THAT weekly ceremony well known to Trimmer's Green 
 Mrs. Lovegrove's afternoon at-home, was in progress. 
 She wore her black satin gown, and her white Maltese lace 
 fichu, just to give it a touch of summer lightness. It 
 must be added that she was warm and uncomfortable, 
 having conscientiously superintended preparations in 
 respect of commissariat in the overheated atmosphere of 
 the basement ; hurried upstairs the imagined tinkle of the 
 front-door bell perpetually in her ears to pull her stays 
 in at the waist and project herself into the aforemen- 
 tioned official garments a very trying process on a June 
 day to a person of ample contours and what may be 
 described as the fluidic temperament. Later she had 
 cooled off, or tried so to cool for on such occasions there 
 is invariably some window-blind, ornament, or piece of 
 furniture actively, in need of straightening sitting in 
 her somewhat fog-stained and sun-faded drawing-room 
 during that evil period of waiting in which the intending 
 hostess first suffers acute mortification because she is 
 " quite sure nobody will come," and then gets hot all over 
 from the equally agitating certainty that everybody she 
 has ever known will appear simultaneously, and that 
 there will be neither cakes nor conversation enough to 
 go round. 
 
 But this disquieting and oft-repeated preface to the 
 afternoon's festivity was now happily over. And the 
 good lady, oblivious of discomfort and a slightly dis- 
 organised complexion, sat purring with satisfaction upon 
 her best Chesterfield sofa, Dr. Giles Nevington beside her. 
 
 " Pleasure, not business, to-day, Mrs. Lovegrove. For 
 once I am going to make no demands on my faithful 
 
 SI
 
 58 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 and able coadjutor. This call is a purely friendly one 
 no subscription lists of any sort or description in my 
 pocket," the clergyman had said in his resonant bass when 
 clasping her hand. A large, dark, clean-shaven man of 
 forty, a studied effect of geniality and benevolence about 
 him, slightly tempered, perhaps, by cold and watchful 
 blue-grey eyes, fixed so said his detractors with un- 
 swerving determination upon the shovel-hat, apron, and 
 gaiters of the Anglican episcopate. 
 
 Rhoda Lovegrove, however, was very far from being 
 among the detractors. She relished this gracious speech 
 enormously. She also approved the attitude of her hus- 
 band at this juncture; since, with praiseworthy tact, 
 he engaged the attention of her two other guests, a Mrs. 
 Ballard and her daughter. These ladies were rich, the 
 younger had pretensions both to beauty and fashion; 
 but their present was, alas! stained by Nonconformity, 
 their past contaminated by association with retail trade. 
 At the entrance of the vicar, remembering these sad de- 
 fects, George Lovegrove rose to the occasion. Gently, 
 but firmly, he pranced round them heading them towards 
 the doorway. 
 
 "Who are those?" Dr. Nevington inquired, with some 
 interest. "Not parishioners, I fancy." 
 
 " Not in any true sense," Mrs. Lovegrove replied. 
 " Dissenters, and I am sorry to say rather spiteful against 
 the Church." 
 
 The clergyman leaned back and crossed his legs 
 comfortably. 
 
 "Ah! well, poor human nature! A touch of jealousy 
 perhaps," he remarked. 
 
 Mrs. Lovegrove beamed. 
 
 " Very likely still I should be just as well pleased not 
 to continue their acquaintance. I don't like to hear 
 things that are disrespectful. I should have ceased to
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 59 
 
 call, but relatives of theirs are old friends of Mr. Love- 
 grove's mother's family." 
 
 " Quite so, quite so," the other returned. Even when 
 silent the sound of him seemed to encompass him, as the 
 roll of a drum seems to salute you when merely beholding 
 that instrument. His speech filled all the room, flowing 
 forth into every corner, sweeping upward in waves to the 
 very .cornice. The feminine members of his congregation 
 found this most beautiful; having, indeed, been known to 
 declare that did he preach in Chinese, they would still 
 receive edification and spiritual benefit. " Quite so," he 
 repeated, " the breaking of old family ties is certainly to 
 be avoided. And then, moreover, we should always guard 
 against any appearance of harshness or illiberality in 
 dealing with Christians from whom we have reason to 
 differ in minor questions of doctrine or practice. We 
 must never forget that the Nonconformists, though they 
 went out from us, do remain the brethren of all right- 
 minded Churchmen in a very special sense, since they have 
 the great lessons of the Reformation at heart. I could 
 wish that certain parties within the Church were animated 
 by the same manly and intelligent intolerance of idola- 
 try and superstition as the majority of the dissenters 
 whom I meet. Personally I should welcome greater 
 freedom of intercourse, and a frequent interchange of 
 pulpits." 
 
 " We know who'd be the gamers," Mrs. Lovegrove put 
 in gracefully. 
 
 " Ah ! well, I am prepared to believe that the gain 
 might not be exclusively on one side." 
 
 Mrs. Lovegrove folded her fat hands, purring almost 
 audibly. He seemed to her so very wise and good. 
 
 " That's so like you, Dr. Nevington," she said. " As 
 I always tell Mr. Lovegrove, we have a great responsi- 
 bility in having you for our pastor and friend. You are
 
 60 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 a standing rebuke to many of us, being so wide-minded 
 yourself." 
 
 " Hardly that, hardly that," he answered with becom- 
 ing modesty. " In my humble way I do strive towards 
 unity, that is all. Even towards the Church of Rome 
 I would extend a friendly and helpful hand. We cannot, 
 of course, go to her, yet she should never be discouraged 
 from coming to us. But here is your good husband back 
 again ceased to be unevenly yoked with the unbeliever, 
 eh, Lovegrove? " 
 
 " I was glad you took them away, Georgie," Mrs. 
 Lovegrove put in. " Still I'm sorry for you, for the 
 vicar's been talking so nobly. You've missed such a 
 lot." 
 
 " Ah, hardly that. I have merely been giving your 
 dear good wife a little lecture on Christian charity. How 
 is Mrs. Nevington? Thank you, wonderfully well, earnest 
 and energetic as ever. I do not know how I could meet 
 the demands of this large parish without her." 
 
 " A true helpmeet," purred Mrs. Lovegrove. 
 
 " Truly so and specially in all questions of organisa- 
 tion. She is altogether my superior in administrative 
 capacity. Indeed, it is an understood thing between us 
 that I relieve her of what may be called the bad third 
 of her marriage vow. If she will love and honour, I 
 assure her I am ready to obey. A capital working rule 
 for husbands eh, Lovegrove? always supposing they 
 have found the right woman, as you and I have." 
 
 In the midst of this delicious badinage the hostess had 
 to rise to receive further guests. Conflicting emotions 
 struggled within her ample bosom namely, regret at 
 leaving that thrice happy sofa, and satisfaction that 
 others should behold the glory thereon so visibly en- 
 throned. 
 
 "How d'ye do, Mrs. Porcher? How d'ye do, Miss
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 61 
 
 Hart? " she said. " Very kind of you to come and call. 
 Only a few friends as yet, but perhaps that's just as 
 pleasant this warm afternoon. Dr. Nevington, as you 
 see, and at his very best " she lowered her voice dis- 
 creetly. " So at home, so full of great thoughts, and 
 yet so comical quite a privilege for all to hear him 
 talk." 
 
 Encouraged by recent commendation, George Love- 
 grove again rose with praiseworthy tact to the occasion. 
 It may be stated in passing that, in person, he was below 
 the middle height, a thick oblong man, his figure, indeed, 
 not unsuggestive of a large carapace, from the four cor- 
 ners of which sprouted short arms and legs. His face 
 was round, fresh-coloured, and clean to the point of 
 polish. His yellowish grey hair, well flattened and shin- 
 ing, grew far back on his forehead. And this, combined 
 with small blue eyes, clear as a child's, a slight inward 
 squint to them, produced an effect of permanent and 
 innocent surprise not devoid of pathos. In character he 
 was guileless and humble-minded. The spectacle of 
 cruelty or injustice would, however, rouse him to the bel- 
 ligerent attitude of the proverbial brebis enrage. He 
 believed himself to be very happy an added touch of 
 pathos perhaps and was pained and surprised if it was 
 brought home to him that others found life a less com- 
 fortable and kindly invention than he himself did. Hence 
 reports of suicides worried him sadly. He would always 
 have returned a verdict of temporary insanity, this being 
 to him the only explanation conceivable of a voluntary 
 exit from our so excellent present form of existence. Yet 
 George Lovegrove was not without his little secret sor- 
 row who indeed is? A deep-seated regret for non- 
 existent small Lovegroves possessed him, the instinct of 
 paternity being strong in him. He loved children, and, 
 when alone, often lingered beside perambulators in Ken-
 
 62 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 sington Gardens fondly observing their contents. Yet 
 not for ten thousand pounds sterling would he have ad- 
 mitted this weakness, lest in doing so he should hurt " the 
 wife's feelings." And it was in obedience to consideration 
 for the said feelings that he now threw himself gallantly 
 into the breach. For, after acting as appreciative chorus 
 to an interlude of sonorous trifling on the part of the 
 clergyman with the newcomers, he adroitly under prom- 
 ise of showing her recent additions to his collection of 
 picture postcards detached Miss Eliza Hart from the 
 neighbourhood of the sofa and conveyed her to the farther 
 side of the room. Mrs. Porcher, neat, pensive, and senti- 
 mental, could be trusted to play the part of attentive 
 listener; but the great Eliza, as he knew by experience, 
 was liable to develop dangerous energy, to get a little 
 above herself, shake her leonine mane of upstanding sandy 
 hair, and become altogether too talkative, not to say loud, 
 for such distinguished company. Personally he had a 
 soft spot in his heart for Eliza. But, if she put herself 
 forward, he feared for " the wife's feelings," therefore did 
 he skilfully detach her. 
 
 And he had reason to congratulate himself on this 
 manoeuvre, for Eliza undoubtedly was in a frolicsome 
 humour. 
 
 '' Yes," she remarked, contemplating the portrait of 
 a celebrated actress. " That is very taking and stylish ; 
 and it is just what I should like to have done with 
 my Peachie." This graceful sobriquet was generally 
 understood to bear testimony to the excellence of Mrs. 
 Porcher's complexion. " Now, if we wanted a gentleman 
 guest or two more at any time, a picture postcard of 
 her like this, just slightly tinted, in answer to inquiries? " 
 
 Miss Hart, her head on one side, looked playfully at 
 Mr. Lovegrove. 
 
 " What about a subsequent summons for over-crowd-
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 63 
 
 ing ? " he chuckled. The whole breadth of the room, well 
 understood, was between him and the wife's feelings, not 
 to mention the august presence beside her upon the sofa. 
 
 " No doubt that has to be thought of ! " Eliza nodded 
 sagely. " But is she not looking sweeter than ever 
 to-day? Do not pretend you have not noticed it, Mr. 
 Lovegrove. There's no deceiving me! I know you." 
 
 Like all mild and moral men, Lovegrove flushed with 
 delight at any suggestion that he was a gay dog, a dash- 
 ing' blade. His good, honest face took on a higher polish 
 than ever. 
 
 " You are too clever by half, Miss Hart." 
 
 " Well, somebody has to keep their wits about them, 
 with such a love as Peachie to care for. I dressed her 
 myself to-day. ' The pearl-grey gown if you like,' I 
 said, * but not a scrap of black with it. Just a touch 
 of colour at the throat, please.' * No, dear Liz,' she 
 said, * it would call for remark, since I have never done 
 so since I lost Major Porcher.' But there, Mr. Love- 
 grove, I insisted. For why she should go on wearing 
 complimentary mourning all her life for a wretch that 
 nearly broke her heart and ruined her, passes me. * For- 
 get the serpent,' I said, * and put on a little turquoise tulle 
 pompon.' Now just look at her!" 
 
 "Rather dangerous for some people, is it not? " Love- 
 grove inquired quite slyly. 
 
 " Hard on our gentlemen, you mean ? Well, perhaps 
 it is. But then they always have the sight of me to 
 put up with. No compliments, thank you. I have my 
 eyesight and my toilet-glass, and they have let me know 
 I was no Venus ever since I can remember. It would not 
 do to depress our gentlemen too much. They might 
 leave, and then wherever would Cedar Lodge be? " 
 
 Miss Hart became suddenly serious and confidential. 
 
 " And that reminds me," she went on. " I wanted to
 
 64 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 have a private word with you to-day about a certain 
 gentleman." 
 
 " Who may he be ? " the good George inquired. 
 
 "You can guess, can't you? Your own candidate." 
 
 "Mr. Iglesias?" 
 
 The lady nodded. 
 
 " Peachie must be spared anxiety, therefore I speak, 
 Mr. Lovegrove. Something is going on, and she is 
 getting worried. You cannot approach the person to 
 whom we are alluding as you can either of our others. 
 Rather stand-offish, even now after nearly eight years 
 that he has been with us. Between you and me and the 
 bedpost, Mr. Lovegrove, I am just a wee bit nervous of 
 that person. So if you could hint, quite in confidence, 
 what his plans may be for the future it would' be really 
 friendly." 
 
 " Dear me, dear me ! Plans ? I do not quite follow 
 you, Miss Hart. Nothing wrong with him, I trust? " 
 
 " That is just what we cannot find out. No spying, of 
 course, Mr. Lovegrove. Neither Peachie nor I would 
 descend to such meanness. Our gentlemen have perfect 
 liberty. We would scorn to put questions. But it is 
 close on a week now since the person we are alluding to 
 has been to the City." 
 
 " Bless me ! You surprise me. He cannot have left 
 Barking Brothers & Barking? " 
 
 The great Eliza shook her leonine mane. 
 
 " I believe that is just exactly what he has done." 
 
 :< You do surprise me. I can hardly credit it. Nearly 
 a week, and he as punctual and regular as clockwork! 
 I must run over this evening and catch him. Something 
 must be wrong. And yet why has he not been here? 
 Dear me, Miss Hart, you " 
 
 But the end of the sentence was lost in the bass notes 
 issuing from the presence upon the sofa.
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 65 
 
 " Truly, the prosperity of the nation," Dr. Nevington 
 was saying, " of this dear old England of ours that we 
 so love, is wholly bound up with the prosperity of her 
 national Church. I use the word prosperity in a plain, 
 manly, straightforward sense. Personally I should re- 
 joice to see the bonds of Church and State drawn closer. 
 It could not fail to make for the welfare of both. Then, 
 among other benefits, we should see the poverty of many 
 members of my cloth, which is now a crying scandal " 
 
 " You do hear very sad tales from the country districts, 
 certainly," sighed Mrs. Lovegrove. 
 
 " The state of affairs is more than sad, it is iniquitous. 
 And therefore the Church must assert herself. The in- 
 dividual minister must assert himself, and claim a higher 
 scale of remuneration. Help yourself, show push and 
 principle, cultivate practical aims that is what I preach 
 to young men reading for Holy Orders. We have no place 
 in these days for visionaries and dreamers. We want men 
 who march with the times, who are interested in politics, 
 and can make themselves felt." 
 
 So did the great voice roll on and outward. Very 
 beautiful to the listeners in sound though, in sense, it 
 may be questioned whether it conveyed very definite ideas 
 to them but highly embarrassing to the house-parlour- 
 maid, whose feminine tones quite failed to make headway 
 against the volume of it. With the consequence that 
 Dominic Iglesias was left standing in the shadow of the 
 doorway unheeded. 
 
 He was aware, and that not without surprise, how much 
 these few days of freedom and leisure had quickened his 
 perceptions. His mental attitude had changed. His de- 
 mand had ceased to be moderate. Hence he suffered a 
 hundred offences to taste and sensibility hitherto unknown, 
 or at least unregistered. He knew when a woman was 
 plain, when a conversation was vapid or vulgar, a manner
 
 66 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 pretentious, a speech lacking in sincerity. Consciously he 
 stood aside, no longer out of humility or indifference, but 
 critically observant, challenging things however familiar, 
 and passing judgment upon them. For example, the un- 
 lovely character of Mrs. Lovegrove's drawing-room en- 
 grossed his attention the dirty-browns and tentative 
 watery blues of it, the multiplicity of flimsy, worthless, 
 little ornaments revealing a most lamentable absence of 
 artistic perception. In that fine booming clerical voice 
 he detected a kindred absence of delicate perception, a 
 showiness born of very inadequate conception of relative 
 values. Indeed, the voice and the sentiments given forth 
 by it, in as far as he caught the drift of them, raised a 
 definite spirit of antagonism in him. The voice seemed to 
 trample. Dominic Iglesias was taken with an inclination 
 very novel in him to trample, too. He crossed the 
 room, an added touch of gravity and dignity in his aspect 
 and manner. 
 
 The clergyman gazed at him with some curiosity, while 
 Mrs. Lovegrove surged up off the sofa. 
 
 " Mr. Iglesias ! Well, of all people ! Whoever would 
 have expected to see you at this early hour of the day? " 
 
 " Talk of a certain gentleman and that gentleman ap- 
 pears," Miss Eliza Hart whispered. ' Then wagging her 
 finger at her host, " Now don't you forget that little ques- 
 tion of mine. Find out his intentions, just, as you may 
 say, under the rose. But there's Peachie signalling to go." 
 
 In the ensuing interval of farewells, which were slightly 
 protracted owing to friskiness on the part of the fair 
 Eliza, Iglesias found himself standing beside the clergy- 
 man. The latter still regarded him with curiosity. But, 
 whatever his faults, not his worst enemy could accuse Dr. 
 Nevington of being a respecter of persons unless he was 
 well assured beforehand who such persons might be. He 
 therefore turned to Iglesias with the easy air of patron-
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 67 
 
 age' not uncommon to his cloth, as one who should say: 
 " My good sir, don't be afraid. I am a man of the world 
 as well as a Christian. I will handle you gently. I won't 
 hurt you." 
 
 " I think I caught a foreign name," he remarked. 
 " You are paying a visit to London ? I hope our capital 
 makes an agreeable impression upon you." 
 
 " The visit has been of such long duration," Iglesias 
 answered, " that impressions have, I am afraid, become 
 slightly blurred by usage." 
 
 " Ah ! indeed no doubt that happens in some measure 
 to all of us. I am to understand that you are a resident? " 
 
 Iglesias assented. 
 
 " In this district? " 
 
 Again he assented. 
 
 " Indeed. Really, I wish I had known it sooner. It 
 always gives me pleasure to meet persons of another 
 nationality than my own. Intercourse with them makes 
 for liberality of view. It often dispels anti-English 
 prejudice. I am always glad to be helpful to strangers." 
 
 " You are very kind," Iglesias said with gravity. 
 
 " Not at all not at all. I hold very practical views 
 not only regarding the duties of the Englishman to the 
 alien, but of the pastor towards his flock. But I find it 
 almost impossible, I regret to say, to become personally 
 acquainted with all my parishioners. My curates are 
 capital young fellows earnest, active, go-ahead. But in 
 a large area such as this there is always a shifting popula- 
 tion with which the clergy, however energetic, find it dif- 
 ficult to keep in touch. We are obliged to discriminate 
 between dwellers and sojourners. As soon as any person 
 is proved to be a bona fide dweller my curates pass his or 
 her name on to me, and either I or my wife call in due 
 course." 
 
 Dominic Iglesias permitted himself to smile.
 
 68 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 " An excellent system, no doubt," he remarked. 
 
 " I find it works very well on the whole. But no system 
 is infallible. There must be occasional oversights, and 
 you have been the victim of one. I mention this to dis- 
 abuse your mind of the idea of any intentional neglect. 
 Well, Mrs. Lovegrove, and so our good friends Mrs. 
 Porcher and Miss Hart have gone estimable women both 
 of them in their own line. I ought to be running away, 
 too, and I have just been having a word with your other 
 guest here, Mr. 
 
 " Iglesias," Dominic put in coldly. He was in a state of 
 pretty high displeasure. To hear his name mispronounced 
 might, he felt, precipitate a catastrophe. 
 
 "Iglesias? ah! yes, thank you I have been explain- 
 ing to Mr. Iglesias our system of parochial visiting and 
 quoting our well-known joke about the dwellers and so- 
 journers. You remember it? He has, I regret to find, 
 been counted among the latter, while he has qualified as 
 one of the former. The mistake must be remedied. Well, 
 good-by to you, Mrs. Lovegrove; I shall see your good 
 husband on my way downstairs. Good-day to you, Mr. 
 Iglesias. I shall hope to meet you again." 
 
 And with that he, and the encompassing sound of him, 
 moved towards the door. Mrs. Lovegrove subsided upon 
 the sofa. The supreme glory had departed, yet an after- 
 glow from the effulgence of it remained in her beaming 
 face as she looked up at Mr. Iglesias. 
 
 " It was a good fairy that brought you in so early 
 to-day," she said. " Really, I am pleased you should have 
 had the chance to meet Dr. Nevington. And I could see 
 he was quite taken with you, by the way he began to talk 
 before I had the chance to introduce you. But that's the 
 vicar all over! He never is one to stand upon ceremony." 
 
 " So I can believe," Dominic said. 
 
 " You saw it? Ah, part of his thoughtfulness, wanting
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 69 
 
 to put everybody at their ease. And I'm sure if there's 
 one thing more disheartening than another, it is to have 
 two of your friends standing up side by side, as stiff as a 
 couple of pokers, without so much as a word. I know I 
 am too ready to enter into conversation with strangers ; 
 but if there is a thing I cannot bear, it's any appearance 
 of coolness." 
 
 She passed her handkerchief round her forehead and 
 across her lips. She was marshalling her energies for a 
 daring effort. 
 
 "Very warm, is it not?" she remarked, perhaps 
 superfluously. Then she came to the point. " I know you 
 are not very much of a churchgoer, Mr. Iglesias." 
 
 " I am afraid not " he paused a moment. " You see, 
 I was born and brought up in another faith." 
 
 " Yes so George has told me. But I am sure none 
 of us would ever be so illiberal as to throw that up against 
 you. The vicar has been talking so beautifully about 
 Christian charity; and we all know it was a thing you 
 could not help. It was your misfortune, anybody would 
 understand that, not your fault. Too, it's all over long 
 ago and forgotten." 
 
 Dominic looked rather hard at her ; but it was clear her 
 words were innocent of any intention of offence. 
 
 " I suppose it is," he said sadly, Old Age and Loneliness 
 laying their hands upon him, for some reason, very sen- 
 sibly once again. 
 
 " Not that that's anything to be otherwise than thank- 
 ful for," she added, with a slightly misplaced effort at 
 consolation. " Of course anyone must feel how provi- 
 dential it is to be saved from all those terrible false doc- 
 trines and practices not that I know anything about 
 them. There's so much, don't you think, it is so much 
 better not to know anything about. Then one feels more 
 at liberty to speak."
 
 70 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 Mr. Iglesias smiled. 
 
 " I am not sure that the matter had occurred from 
 exactly that point of view before." 
 
 " Really now, and a clever person like you ! " Mrs. 
 Lovegrove passed her handkerchief across her forehead 
 again. " George has a wonderful opinion of your clever- 
 ness, you know. And that is why I have always wished 
 you and the vicar could be brought together. I have 
 yes, I own to it I have been afraid sometimes you were 
 a little unsettled about religion, and that it might unsettle 
 Georgie, too. But I knew if you once met the vicar that 
 would all be set right. As I often say to George, let any- 
 body just see Dr. Nevington and then they will begin to 
 have an inkling of all they miss in not hearing him in the 
 pulpit." 
 
 But here, perhaps fortunately, the master of the house 
 trotted back. He, too, beamed. He was filled with inno- 
 cent rejoicing. Had he not successfully protected the 
 wife's feelings, and was not Iglesias who remained to him 
 a wonderful being, stirring whatever element of romance 
 might be resident in his guileless nature present in 
 person ? 
 
 "Why, what's the meaning of this, Dominic?" he 
 chuckled. " You've turned over a new leaf, gadding round 
 to at-home days! Where's Threadneedle Street? What's 
 come over you? " 
 
 "Threadneedle Street and I have agreed to part 
 company." 
 
 "What, for good? Never?" this from both husband 
 and wife. 
 
 " Yes, for good," Iglesias said. 
 
 Mr. Lovegrove ceased to beam. He became anxious 
 again, and consequently solemn. 
 
 " Well, you do surprise me," he said. " Nothing gone 
 wrong, I trust? Not any unpleasantness happened? "
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 71 
 
 " Nofle," Iglesias answered. In breaking the news to 
 these kindly but rudimentary souls he had determined to 
 treat it very lightly. " I have come to the conclusion that 
 I have Worked long enough. It is a mistake to risk dying 
 in harness. You retired, Lovegrove, three years ago. I 
 am going to look about me a little and see what the rest of 
 the world is doing." 
 
 " You'll miss the bank, and feel a little strange at first. 
 Geprgie did, though he had his home to interest him," Mrs. 
 Lovegrove remarked. 
 
 " Undoubtedly George was more fortunate than I am," 
 Iglesiac replied, in his most courtly manner. 
 
 " Not but that all that could be easily remedied," she 
 added, with a touch of archness. Then Mr. Iglesias 
 thought it time to depart. In the hall his host held him, 
 literally by the buttonhole, looking up with squinting blue 
 eyes into his face. 
 
 " It's all rather sudden, Dominic," he said. " I do not 
 want to intrude upon your confidence ; but if there is any- 
 thing behind, anything in which I can help ? " 
 
 Mr. Iglesias shook his head. 
 
 " Nothing, my good old friend," he said. 
 
 " The wife's right, you know. You'll miss the bank, 
 the regular hours, and the occupation. She's quite right. 
 I did at first." 
 
 " I know. But already I have pretty well got through 
 that phase, I think." 
 
 " Ah, you have a bigger mind than mine. You can rise 
 to a wider view. Change affects a commonplace man like 
 myself most. I was dreadfully lost at first more than 
 the wife knew. Females are very sensitive, and it would 
 have hurt her to know all I felt. If the Almighty is good 
 enough to give a man a faithful woman to look after him, 
 he can't be too scrupulous in sparing her pain at least, 
 so I think." Suddenly his tone changed. " But you are
 
 72 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 not going to leave us, Dominic? you are not going to 
 move, I do hope ? " 
 
 He was mindful of his promise to Eliza Hart, but he 
 was also mindful of himself. It had occurred to him for 
 how very much in the interest and pleasure of his life 
 Dominic Iglesias really stood. 
 
 " Why, should you regret my going ? Should you miss 
 me ? " the other asked, struck by his tone. 
 
 " Miss you," he said, " and after a friendship covering 
 forty years ! I know you are my superior in every way. 
 I know I am not on your level. All the advantage is on 
 my side in our friendship, always has been. But that is 
 just where it is. Why, you know, Dominic next to the 
 wife of course all along you have been the best thing I 
 had." 
 
 Then it came to Iglesias, looking down at him, that 
 among the many millions of his fellow-mortals, this whim- 
 sical childlike being stood nearest to him in sympathy and 
 in love. The thought moved him strangely, at once deep- 
 ening his sense of isolation and lessening the load of it. 
 
 " In that case I will not move. I will stay here, at 
 Trimmer's Green," he said. 
 
 When Mr. Lovegrove reentered the sun-faded drawing- 
 room his wife greeted him in these words: 
 
 "Well, I have been thinking it all over, Georgie, and 
 we shall only be doing our duty by Mr. Iglesias if we send 
 for your cousin Serena. For my part, I don't trust Mrs. 
 Porcher. Did you see that fly-away blue bow? Those 
 who seem so soft are often the deepest. And widows have 
 all sorts of little cunning ways with them." She rose from 
 the thrice happy sofa. " I was gratified to have Dr. 
 Nevington and Mr. Iglesias meet. But we certainly will 
 have to send for Serena," she said.
 
 jt 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 MR. IGLESIAS crossed Trimmer's Green in the dusty 
 sunshine. He had engaged to stay; and, indeed, he 
 asked himself what person, what objects or interests 
 there were to take him else-whither ? Nevertheless, the 
 promise seemed, somehow, a limiting of possibility 
 and of hope. It was destiny. London, very evidently, 
 having got him, did not mean to let him go. And Lon- 
 don was not attractive this evening, but blowzy and jaded 
 from the heat. He passed on into the great thorough- 
 fare and turned eastward, absorbed in thought. Chil- 
 dren cried. A pungent scent of over-ripe fruit came 
 from barrows in the roadway and open doors of green- 
 grocers' shops. Tempers appeared to be on edge. 
 Workmen, pouring out from a big block of flats under 
 construction on the left, jostled him in passing, not in 
 insolence, but simply in inattention. Their language was 
 starred with sanguinary adjectives. The noise of the 
 traffic was loud. Iglesias turned up one of the side 
 streets leading on to Camden Hill. It was quieter here 
 and the air was a trifle purer. Halfway up the hill he 
 hesitated. There was a shrine to be visited in these 
 regions in it stood an altar of the dead. And above 
 that altar, in Iglesias' imagination, hung the picture of 
 a woman, beautiful, and, to him, infinitely sad. 
 
 He turned eastward again and made his way into 
 Holland Street. He rarely had the courage to go back 
 there. He had never reentered the house. But this 
 evening he was taken by the desire to look on it all once 
 again. For he was still pursued by the disquieting ques- 
 tion as to whether he had shirked the possibilities of his 
 life, or had sacrificed them to a higher duty than any 
 
 73
 
 74 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 duty of personal development. If the latter, however 
 barren of active happiness both past and present, he 
 would be in his own eyes justified, and desolation would 
 cease to have in it any flavour of self -contempt. Perhaps 
 this dwelling-place of his childhood, youth, and what 
 should have been the best of his manhood, might help to 
 answer the question and set his doubts at rest. 
 
 A board " To Let " was up on the narrow iron bal- 
 cony of the dining-room. Iglesias rang, and after brief 
 parley with the caretaker & neat bald-headed little old 
 man, in carpet slippers and a well-brushed once-smart 
 brown check suit, altogether too capacious for his atten- 
 uated person was admitted. 
 
 " The place is quite empty save for my bits of sticks 
 in the basement, sir," he said. " You are at liberty to 
 go where you please. I am afflicted with the asthma and 
 am glad to avoid mounting the stairs." He ended up 
 with a husky little cough. So Iglesias passed through 
 the vacant house unattended. 
 
 He received a pathetic yet agitating impression. The 
 rooms were even smaller than he had supposed. They 
 were gloomy, too, from the worn paint of the high wains- 
 cots and discoloration of the low ceilings. All the win- 
 dows were shut and the atmosphere was close and faint. 
 The corners were thick with crouching shadows, merely 
 awaiting the cover of night, as it seemed to Iglesias, to 
 take definite shape, stand upright, and come forth to 
 possess and people all the house. Even now it belonged 
 so sensibly to them that his own reverent footsteps 
 sounded to him harshly intrusive upon the bare, uneven 
 floors. At intervals, downstairs in the basement, he could 
 hear the little old caretaker's husky cough. 
 
 And it was strange to him to consider what those 
 crouching shadows might represent. Not the ghosts of 
 human beings in such he had small belief but an after-
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 75 
 
 math of human emotions, purposes, and passions, formu- 
 lated or endured in this apparently so innocent place. 
 To his knowledge the origins of revolution had seethed 
 here. The walls had listened to details of political in- 
 trigue, of projected assassination, to vehement declara- 
 tions of undying hate. Of the men who had plotted and 
 dreamed here, uplifted in spirit by the magic of terrible 
 ideas, none were left. One by one they had gone out 
 into the silence to meet death, swift-handed or heartlessly 
 lingering, as the case might be. And what had they 
 actually accomplished? he asked himself. Had their 
 death, often as must be surmised of a sufficiently hideous 
 sort, really advanced the cause of humanity and helped 
 on the birth of that Golden Age, in which Justice shall 
 reign alongside Peace? Or had these men merely wasted 
 themselves, adding to the sum total of human confusion 
 and wrong; and wasted the hearts and happiness of those 
 allied to them by ties of friendship and of blood, leaving 
 the second generation to repair, in so far as it might, 
 the ruin which their violence had worked? Dominic Igle- 
 sias could not say. But this at least, though it savoured 
 of reproach, he could not disguise from himself namely, 
 that out of the intemperate heat and fierceness of these 
 men's thought and action had come, as a necessary conse- 
 quence, the narrow opportunities and cold isolation of 
 his own. 
 
 " As physically, so morally, spiritually, socially," he 
 said to himself, " the younger generation pays the debts 
 contracted by the generation immediately preceding it. 
 Justice, indeed, reigns already, always has done so 
 justice of a rather tremendous sort. But peace? Peace 
 is still very much to seek, both for the individual and 
 the race." 
 
 Iglesias visited his mother's bed-chamber. He visited 
 his former nursery. Then he visited the drawing-room.
 
 76 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 the heart of this very pathetic shrine where the altar of 
 his dead was, almost visibly set up. To this room, during 
 the many years of his mother's mental illness, he had 
 come back daily after work; and had ministered to her, 
 suiting his speech to her passing humour, trying to dis- 
 tract her brooding melancholy, and to soothe and amuse 
 her as though she was an ailing child. Thank God, there 
 was nothing ugly to remember regarding her. She had 
 never been harsh or unlovely in her ways. Still, the strain 
 of constant intercourse with her had been very great 
 how great Iglesias had hardly realised until now, as he 
 stood in the centre of the room reconstructing its former 
 appearance in thought and replacing its familiar fur- 
 nishings. 
 
 There to the left of the further window, overlooking 
 the garden, she had always sat, so that the light 
 might fall upon her needlework very fine Irish lace, 
 in the making of which nearly all her waking hours were 
 spent. She had learned the beautiful art as a young girl 
 in her convent school; and her skill in it was great. In 
 those sad later years when her mind was clouded the 
 intricate designs and endless variety of delicate and 
 ingenious stitches had come to have symbolic meanings 
 for her full of mystic significance. In them she poured 
 forth her soul, as another might pour it forth in music, 
 finding there an imaginative language far surpassing, in 
 its subtlety of suggestion, articulate speech. There were 
 deserts of net, of spider's web fineness, to be laboriously 
 traversed; hills of difficulty to be climbed, whence far 
 horizons disclosed themselves; dainty flower-gardens, 
 crossed by open paths, and hedged about with curves, 
 sinuous and full of pretty impediments. And there were, 
 to her, vaguely agitating and even fearful things in this 
 lacework also confusions of outline, broken purposes, 
 multiplicity of opposing intentions, struggle of good and
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 77 
 
 evil powers in the intricacies of some rich arabesque; or 
 monotonous repetitions of design which distressed her as 
 with the terrors of imprisonment and of unescapable fate. 
 She was filled with feverish anxiety until such portions 
 of her self-imposed task were completed. Then she would 
 be very glad. And Iglesias, glancing up silently from 
 the pages of his newspaper or book, would see the sorrow 
 pass out of her face as she leaned back in her chair and 
 softly laughed. And he would perceive that, in the 
 achievement of those countless but carefully ordered 
 stitches, she had also achieved some mysterious victory 
 of the spirit which, for a time at least, would give her 
 freedom of soul and content. As a boy he had been 
 rather jealous of her lacemaking, declaring that it was 
 dearer to her than he himself was. But as he grew more 
 experienced, more chastened, and, it must be added, more 
 sad, he had come to understand that it veritably was as 
 speech to her though speech which he could but rarely 
 interpret expressing all that she could not, or dared 
 not, otherwise express, all the poetry of her sweet, broken 
 nature, its denied aspirations in religion, its tortured 
 memories of danger and of love. 
 
 Now, standing in the centre of the empty room, and 
 looking at the place beside the window where she habitu- 
 ally sat, Iglesias seemed to see once more, as he had so 
 often seen in the past, her fine-drawn profile and softly 
 waved upturned hair, her head and shoulders draped in 
 a black mantilla, the lines of which followed those of her 
 figure as she bent over her work. He could see the long 
 delicate white hands moving rhythmically, with the assur- 
 ance of perfected skill, over the web in its varying degrees 
 of whiteness from the filmy transparency of the net foun- 
 dation to the opacity of the closely wrought pattern. 
 Those hands, in their ceaseless and exquisite industry, 
 had troubled his imagination at times. For too often
 
 78 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 it had seemed as though they alone were really alive, in- 
 telligent, sentient, the rest of the woman dead. The 
 impression was so vivid even yet though Iglesias knew 
 it to be subjective only, projected by the vividness of 
 remembrance that instinctively he crossed the room, laid 
 his left hand upon the moulding of the high wainscot, 
 leaned over the vacant space which appeared to hold her 
 image, and spoke gently to her, so that the moving hands 
 might find rest for a moment, while she recognised and 
 greeted him, looking up. 
 
 There had always been a pause before the words of 
 greeting came, while her consciousness travelled back, 
 hesitatingly, to the actual and material world around her 
 from the world of emotion and phantasy in which her 
 spirit lived. There was a pause now, a prolonged silence, 
 broken at last by the husky cough of the little old care- 
 taker downstairs. The vacant space remained vacant. 
 Nevertheless Dominic Iglesias received both recognition 
 and greeting, and from these derived inward assurance 
 that all was well that he was justified of his past action, 
 that he had not shirked the possibilities of his life, but 
 sacrificed them to a higher duty than any individual and 
 private one. The present might be empty of purpose and 
 pleasure, the future lacking in promise and in hope; yet 
 to him one perfect thing had been granted namely, 
 a human relationship of unsullied beauty, notwithstanding 
 all its sadness, from first to last. 
 
 " And in the strength of that meat, one should surely 
 be able to go many days ! " he said, as he straightened 
 himself up. " Thank God, I never failed her. How far 
 she realised it or not, is but a small matter. I am ob- 
 scure, perhaps as things now stand wholly superfluous, 
 still I have, at all events, never grasped personal advan- 
 tage at the expense of a fellow-creature's heart." 
 
 Yet, even so, the longing for sympathy and companion-
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 79 
 
 ship oppressed him as never before. The sight of this 
 place had stirred his affections and his spiritual sense. 
 His soul cried out for some language in which to express 
 itself even though it were a language of symbol only, 
 such as his mother had found in her lacemaking. How 
 barren and vapid a thing was the exterior life, as all 
 those whom he knew understood and lived it his co- 
 lodgers, his fellow-clerks, the good Lovegroves, his late 
 employer, Sir Abel Barking, even, as he divined, that 
 sonorous Protestant clergyman whom he had met this 
 afternoon as against the interior life, suggestion of 
 which this vacant shadow-haunted house of innumerable 
 memories presented to his mind! Was there any method 
 by which the interior and exterior life could be brought 
 into sane and fruitful relation, so that the former might 
 sensibly permeate and dignify the latter? 
 
 The comfortable inward conviction, just vouchsafed 
 him, that he was justified of his own past action, merely 
 emphasised his consciousness that he was still very much 
 adrift, with no definite port to steer for. He had, per- 
 haps unwisely, promised George Lovegrove that he would 
 stay on at Trimmer's Green, but what, after all, did that 
 amount to? Even the exterior life was second-hand 
 enough there; the interior life, as he judged, practically 
 non-existent. And so his staying must be ennobled 
 by some purpose beyond that of stepping across to 
 smoke an after-dinner pipe with the good, affection- 
 ate Lovegrove man, or attending his estimable wife's 
 " at homes." During the last ten days Mr. Iglesias 
 had striven, with rare, pathetic diligence, to culti- 
 vate amusement. True, the oak palings had shut 
 him out from Ranelagh; but, with that and a few 
 other exceptions, amusement, as practised in great cities, 
 5s merely a matter of cash. Therefore he had dined at 
 smart restaurants, had sampled theatres and music halls,
 
 80 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 had sat in the Park and watched the world and in their 
 more decent manifestations the flesh and the devil drive 
 by. He had to admit that unfortunately all this left him 
 cold, had bored rather than entertained him. He had 
 not felt out of place socially. His natural dignity and 
 detachment of mind were alike too strong for that ; but he 
 had arrived at the conclusion that you must have learned 
 the rudiments of the art of amusement in early youth if 
 you are to practise it with satisfaction to yourself in 
 middle-age. And he very certainly had not learned the 
 rudiments not, anyhow, according to the English fash- 
 ion. He had been aware, during these social excursions, 
 that he was a good deal stared at and even commented on. 
 At first he supposed this arose from some peculiarity of 
 his dress or manner. Then he understood that the cause 
 of this unsolicited attention bore a more flattering char- 
 acter, and in this connection certain remarks made by 
 the Lady of the Windswept Dust occurred to his mind. 
 But, Mr. Iglesias' pride being greatly in excess of his 
 vanity when the first moment of half-humorous surprise 
 was passed he found that these tributes to his personal 
 appearance afforded him more displeasure than pleasure. 
 He turned from them with a movement of annoyance, 
 and turned from those places in which they were liable 
 to manifest themselves likewise. No, indeed, it was some- 
 thing other than this he had to find, something lying far 
 deeper in the needs of human nature, if the emptiness of 
 his days was to be filled and the hunger of his heart and 
 spirit satisfied! 
 
 Pondering which things he went down the creaking 
 stairs of the house in Holland Street, Kensington, leaving 
 the empty and, to him, sacred rooms to the crouching 
 shadows. He had had his answer from the one person 
 whom he had perfectly loved. And surely, in justifying the 
 past, that answer gave promise of hope for the future?
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 81 
 
 The way would be made clear, the method would declare 
 itself. Let him have patience, only patience, as she, his 
 mother, had had when traversing deserts and climbing 
 Difficulty Hill in her lacework; and to him, also, should 
 far horizons be disclosed. 
 
 In the narrow hall the neat little old caretaker met 
 him, huskily coughing. 
 
 '* The rent is low, sir," he said, " and the landlord is 
 asking no premium. If you should wish further particu- 
 lars, or to inspect the offices "' 
 
 But Mr. Iglesias put a couple of half-crowns into his 
 hand. 
 
 " No," he answered, " I do not propose to take the 
 house. Persons who were dear to me lived here once; 
 and so I wanted to see it. As long as it is unlet I may 
 come back from time to time." 
 
 The old man shuffled his slippered feet upon the bare 
 boards, looking with mild ecstasy at the coins. 
 
 " And you will be most welcome, sir," he said. " Your 
 generosity happens to be of great assistance to me not 
 that I wish it repeated. I am not grasping, sir, but I 
 am grateful. I have a taste in literature which my re- 
 duced circumstances do not allow me to gratify. I see 
 the prospect of many hours' enjoyment before me. I 
 thank you."
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 AND so it came about that a more tranquil spirit, 
 touched with sober gladness, possessed Dominic Igle- 
 sias as, leaving that house of many memories, he pursued 
 his way down Church Street and, passing into Kensington 
 High Street opposite St. Mary Abbot's Church, turned 
 eastward once again. A few doors short of the gateway 
 leading into Palace Gardens was an unpretentious Italian 
 restaurant where he proposed to dine. For it grew late. 
 He had spent longer than he had supposed in wordless 
 prayer before the altar of his dead. The remembrance of 
 the book-loving little caretaker's gratitude remained by 
 him pleasantly, softening his humour towards all his 
 fellow-men. Simple kindness has great virtue, uplifting 
 to the heart. To Iglesias it seemed those five shillings 
 had been eminently well invested. 
 
 The streets were clearer now; and he walked slowly, 
 enjoying the cooler air born of the sunset, and drawing 
 from the leafy spaces of Kensington Gardens and the 
 park. Presently he became aware of a figure, not alto- 
 gether unfamiliar, threading its way among the inter- 
 mittent stream of pedestrians along the pavement a few 
 paces ahead. His eyes followed it reluctantly. In his 
 present peaceful humour its aspect struck a jarring note. 
 Soiled white flannel trousers, a short blue boating coat, a 
 soft grey felt hat, tennis shoes, a shambling and uncertain 
 gait as of one who neither knows nor cares whither he is 
 going or why he goes the whole effect purposeless, 
 slovenly, inept. 
 
 Then followed a little scene which caused Iglesias to 
 further slacken his pace. For the seedy figure, reaching 
 
 82
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 83 
 
 the open door of the restaurant, hesitated, standing be- 
 tween the clipped bay trees set in green tubs which flanked 
 the entrance on either hand. Stepped aside, craning 
 upward to see over the yellow silk curtains drawn across 
 the lower half of the windows. Moved back to the door 
 and stood there undecided. Finally, as a smiling waiter, 
 napkin on arm, came forward, the man crushed his hat 
 down on his forehead, forced his hands deep into his trou- 
 ser pockets and turned away with an audible oath. This 
 brought him face to face with Mr. Iglesias, who recog- 
 nised in him his fellow-lodger, Mr. de Courcy Smyth. 
 
 " What, you ! " he exclaimed snarlingly, while his 
 pasty face flamed. " There seems no escape from our 
 dear Cedar Lodge to-night." 
 
 Then with an uneasy laugh he made an effort to 
 recover himself. 
 
 " Really, I beg your pardon, Mr. Iglesias," he con- 
 tinued, " but my nerves are villainously on edge. I have 
 just met those two young idiots, Farge and Worthing- 
 ton, waltzing home arm in arm like a pair of demented 
 turtle-doves. Having to associate with such third-rate 
 commercial fellows and witness their ebullitions of mutual 
 admiration makes a man of education, like myself, utterly 
 sick. I came out this evening to get free of the whole 
 Cedar Lodge lot. You did the same, I suppose. Pray 
 don't let me frustrate your purpose. I sympathise with 
 it. I will remove myself." 
 
 The splotchy red had died out of the speaker's face. 
 Notwithstanding the warmth of the evening he stood with 
 his shoulders raised and his knees a little bent, as a poorly 
 clad man stands in a chill wind on a wintry day. Igle- 
 sias observed his attitude, and in his present mood it influ- 
 enced him more than the surly greeting had done. 
 
 " I intended to dine here," he said quietly. " So, I 
 fancy, did you."
 
 84 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 "Oh! I have changed my mind, thank you," Smyth 
 answered. 
 
 " In consequence of my arrival, I am afraid? " 
 
 " No, I had other reasons." 
 
 " In any case I should be very glad if you would 
 reconsider your decision and remain," Dominic said. " I 
 am, as you see, alone, and I have not often the pleasure 
 of meeting you. I shall be very happy if you will stay 
 and dine with me, as my guest." 
 
 Smyth gave an odd, furtive look at the open door of 
 the restaurant and the row of white tables within. A 
 light had come into his pale blue eyes, making them 
 uncomfortably like those of some half-starved animal. 
 
 " I am at a loss to know why I should accept hospitality 
 from you," he remarked, at once cringingly and in- 
 solently. 
 
 " Simply because you would give me pleasure by doing 
 so. I should value your society." 
 
 " I am not in evening dress." 
 
 " Nor am I," Dominic answered, with admirable seri- 
 ousness. There was something pitiful to him in the 
 conflict, obviously going forward in the other's mind, 
 between hunger and reluctance to incur an obligation. 
 He cut it short with gentle authority. " There is a 
 vacant table in the corner where we can talk free from 
 interruption. Let us go in and secure it." 
 
 At the beginning of the meal the conversation was 
 intermittent, the burden of supporting it lying with Mr. 
 Iglesias. But, as course followed course, hot and succu- 
 lent, while the chianti at once steadied his circulation and 
 stimulated his brain, de Courcy Smyth became talkative, 
 not to say garrulous. Finally he began to assert himself, 
 to swagger, thereby laying bare the waste places of his 
 own nature. 
 
 " You may think I was hard on Farge and Worthing-
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 85 
 
 ton just now, Mr. Iglesias," he said. " I own they disgust 
 me; not only in themselves, but as examples of certain 
 modern tendencies which are choking the life out of me 
 and such men as me. You business people are on the up 
 grade just now, and you know it. Whoever goes under, 
 you are safe to do yourselves most uncommonly well. I 
 don't mean anything personal, of course. I am just stat- 
 ing 4 self-evident fact. Commerce is in the air you all 
 reek of success. And so even shopwalkers, like Worth- 
 ington, and that thrice odious puppy Farge, grow sleek, 
 and venture to spread themselves in the presence of their 
 betters in the presence of a scholar and a gentleman, 
 who is well connected and has received a classical educa- 
 tion, like myself." 
 
 Smyth paused, turning sideways to the table, leaning 
 his elbow on it, crossing his legs and staring gloomily 
 down the long room. 
 
 " But what do they know or care about scholarship? " 
 he continued. " What they do know is that the spirit 
 of this unspeakably vulgar age is with them and their 
 miserable huckstering. They know that well enough and 
 act upon it, though they are too illiterate to put it into 
 words know that trade is in process of exploding learn- 
 ing, of exploiting literature and art to its own low 
 purposes, in process of scaling Olympus, in shor.t, and 
 ignominiously chucking out the gods." 
 
 Dominic Iglesias had listened to this astonishing tirade 
 in silence. The man was evidently suffering from feelings 
 of bitter injury, also he was his Iglesias' guest. Both 
 pity and hospitality engaged him to endurance. But 
 there are limits. And at this point professional dignity 
 and a lingering loyalty towards the house of Barking 
 Brothers & Barking enjoined protest. 
 
 " No doubt we live in times of commerce, rather than 
 in those of chivalry," he remarked. " Still, I venture to
 
 86 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 think your condemnation is too sweeping. One should 
 discriminate surely between trade and finance." 
 
 " Only as one discriminates between a little dog and 
 a big one. The little dog is the easier to kick. I can't 
 get at the Rothschilds and Rockefellers; and so I go 
 for the Farges and Worthingtons," Smyth answered. 
 " In principle I am right. Trade, commerce, finance, 
 juggle with the names as you like, it all comes back to 
 the same thing in the end, namely, the murder of intel- 
 lect by money. Comes back to the worship of Mammon, 
 chosen ruler of this contemptible fin de siecle, and safe to 
 be even more tyrannously the ruler of the coming cen- 
 tury. What hope, I ask you, is left for us poor devils of 
 literary men? None, absolutely none. Just in propor- 
 tion as we honour our calling and refuse to prostitute our 
 talents we are at a discount. The powers that be have 
 no earthly use for us. We have not the ghost of a 
 chance." 
 
 He altered his position, looking quickly and nervously 
 at his host. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," he said. " For the moment I 
 forgot you were on the other side, among the conquerors, 
 not the conquered. Probably this conversation does not 
 interest you in the least." 
 
 " On the contrary, it interests me very deeply," Dom- 
 inic replied gravely. 
 
 " All the same, out of self-respect I ought to hold my 
 tongue about it, I suppose. For I have accepted the 
 position, Mr. Iglesias. I have learned to do that. Only 
 on each fresh occasion that it is brought home to me 
 and it has been brought home abominably clearly to-night 
 my gorge rises at it. And it ought to be so. For it 
 is an outrage you yourself must admit that a man who 
 started with excellent prospects and with the conscious- 
 ness of unusual talents of genius, perhaps should be
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 87 
 
 ruined and broken, while every miserable little counter- 
 jumper " 
 
 He leaned his elbows on the table, hiding his face in his 
 hands, and his shoulders shook. 
 
 " For I have talent," he cried, in a curiously thin voice. 
 " Before God I have. They may refuse to publish me, 
 refuse to play me, force me to pick up scraps of hack- 
 work on fourth-rate papers to earn a bare subsistence 
 at, times hardly that. Yet all the same, no supercilious 
 beast of an editor or actor-manager curse the whole 
 stinking lot shall rob me of my faith in myself of my 
 belief that I am great if I had justice, nothing less than 
 that, I tell you, nothing less than great." 
 
 Dominic Iglesias drew himself up, sitting very still, 
 his lips rigid, not from defect, but from excess of sym- 
 pathy. The restaurant was empty now, save for a man, 
 four tables down, safely ensconced behind the pink pages 
 of an evening paper, and for a couple, at the far end, in 
 the window a young Frenchwoman, whose coquettish 
 hat and trim rounded figure were silhouetted against 
 the yellow silk curtain, and a precocious black-haired 
 youth, with a skin like pale, pink satin, round eyeglasses 
 and an incipient moustache. His attention was entirely 
 occupied with the young woman; hers entirely occupied 
 with herself. And of this Dominic Iglesias was glad. 
 For the matter immediately in hand was best conducted 
 without witnesses. He found it strangely engrossing, 
 strangely moving. However vain, however madly exag- 
 gerated even, de Courcy Smyth's estimate of himself, 
 there could be no question but that his present emotion 
 was as actual and genuine as his past hunger had been. 
 The man was utterly spent in body and in spirit. Offensive 
 in speech, slovenly in person, yet these distasteful things 
 added to, rather than detracted from, Iglesias' going out 
 of sympathy towards him. He had rarely been in contact
 
 88 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 with a fellow-creature in such abandonment of distress. 
 It was terrible to witness; yet it gave him a sense of 
 fellowship, of nearness, even of power, which had in it 
 an element of deep-seated satisfaction. While he waited 
 for the moment when it should become clear to him how 
 to act, his thought travelled back to the Lady of the 
 Windswept Dust. He saw, not her over-red lips, but 
 her serious eyes; saw her tearful and in a way broken, 
 for all her light speech, her fanciful garments, and her 
 antics with her absurd little dogs amid the sweetness of 
 sunshine and summer breeze on Barnes Common. She 
 was far enough away, so he judged, in sentiment and 
 circumstance from the embittered and poverty-haunted 
 man sitting opposite to him. Yet though superficially 
 so dissimilar, they were alike in this, that both had dared 
 to reveal themselves, passing beyond conventional limits 
 in intercourse with him, Iglesias. Both had cried out to 
 him in their distress. And then, thinking of that recently 
 visited altar of the dead, thinking of the one perfect rela- 
 tionship he had known his relationship to his mother 
 it came to him as a revelation that not participation 
 in the pride of life and the splendour of it still less asso- 
 ciation in mere pleasure and amusement forms the 
 cement which binds together the units of humanity in 
 stable and consoling relationship; but association in sor- 
 row, the cry for help and the response to that cry, whether 
 it be help to the staying of the hunger of the heart and 
 of the intellect, or simply to the staying of that baser 
 yet very searching hunger of overstrained nerve's and an 
 empty stomach. The revelation was partial. Iglesias 
 groped, so to speak, in the light of it uncertain and 
 dazzled. But he received it as real an idea the magni- 
 tude of which, in inspiration and application, he was as 
 yet by no means equal to measure. Still he believed that 
 could he but yield himself to it, and, in yielding, master
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 89 
 
 it, it , would carry him very far, teaching him that lan- 
 guage of the spirit which he desired to acquire ; and hence 
 placing in his hand that earnestly coveted key to an 
 adjustment between the exterior and interior life, the life 
 of the senses and the life of the spirit, which must needs 
 eventuate, manward and godward alike, in triumphant 
 harmony. 
 
 Meanwhile there sat de Courcy Smyth, blear-eyed, 
 sandy-red bearded, unsavoury, trying, poor wretch, to 
 ralty whatever of manhood was left in him and swagger 
 himself out of his fit of hysteria. The Latin, however 
 dignified, is instinctively more demonstrative than the 
 Anglo-Saxon. Iglesias leaned across the table and laid 
 his hand on the other man's shoulder. 
 
 " Wait a little," he said. " Drink your coffee and 
 smoke. We need not hurry to move." 
 
 There was a pause, during which Smyth obediently 
 swallowed his coffee, swallowed his chasse of cognac. 
 
 " I have made an egregious ass of myself," he said 
 sullenly. 
 
 " No, no," Iglesias answered. " You have honoured 
 me by taking me into your confidence. It rests with me 
 to see that you never have cause to regret having 
 done so." 
 
 " I believe you mean that." 
 
 " Certainly I mean it," Iglesias answered. 
 
 Smyth's hands trembled as he took a cigar and held 
 a match to it. 
 
 " I am unaccustomed to meeting with kindness," he said 
 in a low voice. Then recovering himself somewhat, he 
 began to speak volubly again. "Of course I understand 
 it all well enough. They are simply afraid of my work, 
 those beasts of editors and playwrights. It is too big for 
 them, they dare not face it and the consequences of it, 
 It is strong stuff, Mr. Iglesias, strong stuff with plenty
 
 90 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 of red blood in it, and with scholarship, too. And so 
 they pigeon-hole ray stories and dramas in self-defence, 
 knowing that if these once reached the public, either in 
 print or in action, their own fly-blown anaemic produc- 
 tions would be hissed off the stage or would ruin the 
 circulation of the periodical which inserted them. It is 
 all jealousy, I tell you, Mr. Iglesias, rank, snakish 
 jealousy, bred by self-interest out of fear a truly 
 exalted parentage ! " 
 
 He shifted his position restlessly, again setting his 
 elbows upon the table and fingering the broken bread 
 upon the cloth. 
 
 " At times, when I can rise above the immediate injus- 
 tice and cruelty which pursue me," he went on, " I glory 
 in my martyrdom. I range myself alongside those 
 heroes of literature and art, who, because they were ahead 
 of the age in which they lived, were scorned and repu- 
 diated by their contemporaries; but they found their 
 revenge in the worship of succeeding generations. My 
 time will come just as theirs did. It must I tell you 
 it must. I know that. I am safe of eventual recognition ; 
 but I want it now, while I am alive, while I can glut 
 myself with the joy of it. I want to see the men who 
 lord it over me, just because they have influence and 
 money, who affect to despise me because they are green 
 with envy and fear of me, brought to their knees, flat- 
 tened so that I can wipe my boots on them. And and " 
 he looked full at Dominic Iglesias, spreading out both 
 hands across the narrow table, his pale prominent eyes 
 blood-shot, his face working " I want to see someone 
 else a woman brought to her knees also. I want to 
 make her feel what she has lost curse her ! and have her 
 come back whining." 
 
 " And if she did come back," Iglesias asked, almost 
 sternly, "what would you do? Forgive her?"
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 91 
 
 De Courcy Smyth's hands dropped with a queer little 
 thud on the table. 
 
 " I don't know. I suppose so. If she wanted to she 
 could always get round me." Then he turned on Iglesias 
 with hysterical violence. " But what do you know ? Why 
 do you ask that? Are you among her patrons? I trusted 
 you. I believed you were a gentleman in feeling and it 
 is a dirty trick to get me in here and fill me up with food 
 and liquor, when you must have seen my nerves were all 
 to pieces, and then spring this upon me. Oh ! hell ! " he 
 cried, " is there no comfort anywhere? Is everyone a 
 traitor? " 
 
 And seeing his utter abjectness, Iglesias' heart went 
 out to the unhappy man in immense and unqualified 
 pity. 
 
 " I am grieved," he said gently, " if I have pained you 
 unnecessarily. But truly I have sprung nothing upon 
 you. How could I do so? I know nothing whatever of 
 your circumstances save that which you yourself have 
 told me during the last hour." 
 
 " Then why did you ask that question about about 
 her? " 
 
 " Because," Dominic answered, " I am ready to fight 
 for you, in as far as you will allow me to do so; but 
 I do not fight against women." 
 
 " You must have had uncommonly little experience of 
 them then," Smyth answered with a sneer. 
 
 To this observation Mr. Iglesias deemed it superfluous 
 to make any answer. A silence followed. The restau- 
 rant was empty, but for the waiters, who stood in a little 
 knot about the door amusing themselves by watching the 
 movement of the street. Looking round to make sure 
 no one was within hearing, Smyth rose unsteadily to his 
 feet. 
 
 " You meant what you said just now, Mr. Iglesias
 
 92 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 that you were ready to fight for me? " he asked urgently 
 yet cringingly. 
 
 " Certainly I meant it," Dominic replied, " the proviso 
 I have made being respected." 
 
 " Yes, yes, of course but what do you understand by 
 fighting for me? Money? " 
 
 Dominic had risen, too. He remained for a moment in 
 thought. 
 
 " Within reasonable relation to my means, yes," he 
 said. 
 
 " I only want my chance," the other asserted. " The 
 rest will follow as a matter of course. You would risk 
 nothing, Mr. Iglesias. It would be an investment, simply 
 an investment. The play is not finished yet I have been 
 too disheartened and disgusted recently to be able to work 
 at it. But it is great, I tell you, great. When it is done 
 will you give me my chance, and take a theatre for me 
 and finance a couple of matinees? " 
 
 Again Dominic Iglesias thought for a moment, and 
 again, driven by that strange necessity of fellowship 
 though knowing all the while he was putting his hand 
 to a very questionable adventure he replied in the 
 affirmative.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 ON that same evening, and at the same hour at which 
 Dominic Iglesias bound himself to the practical assist- 
 ance of a personally unsavoury and professionally un- 
 succ^ssful playwright, a conversation was in progress 
 between two persons of more exalted social station in 
 the drawing-room of a pleasant house in Chester Square. 
 The said drawing-room, mid-Victorian in aspect, was 
 decorated in white and gold and unaggressive green. 
 The ground of the chintz was very white, sprinkled over 
 with bunches of shaded mauve roses unknown to horti- 
 culture. Lady Constance Decies' tea-gown was white 
 and mauve also. For she was still in half -mourning for 
 her father, the late Lord Fallowfeild, who had died some 
 eighteen months previously at a very venerable age, and 
 with a touching modesty as though his advent in another 
 world might savour of intrusion. He had always been a 
 humble-minded man. He remained so to the last. 
 
 The windows stood open to the balcony. And the 
 effect of the woman, and of the soft lights and colours 
 surrounding her, was reposeful. For at the age of fifty 
 Lady Constance, though stately, was a mild and very 
 gentle person upon whom the push of the modern world 
 had laid no hand. All the active drama of her life had 
 been crowded into a few weeks of the early summer of 
 her eighteenth year; since which, now remote, period 
 she had enjoyed a tranquil existence, happy in the love 
 of her husband and the care of her children. Her pretty 
 brown hair was beginning to turn grey upon the tem- 
 ples. Her eyes, set remarkably far apart, had a certain 
 vagueness and a great innocence of expression. She was 
 naturally timid, and cared but little for any society be- 
 
 93
 
 94 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 yond that of her near relations. To-night she was par- 
 ticularly content, mildly radiant even, thanks to the 
 presence of her favourite brother, the present Lord Fal- 
 lowfeild, and his avowed admiration of her younger 
 daughter a maiden of nineteen, who stood before her, 
 with shining eyes, in all the delicate splendour of a spot- 
 less ball-dress. 
 
 " Yes, darling, you look very sweet," she said. " Just 
 lean down the lace has got caught in the flowers on 
 your berthe* That's right. Don't keep your father 
 too late." 
 
 " And in all things be discreet " this from Lord Fal- 
 lowfeild. " It's been my motto through life, as your 
 mother knows. And you couldn't have a brighter exam- 
 ple of the excellent results of it than myself. Good-night, 
 my dear. Enjoy yourself," and he patted her on the 
 cheek, avoiding the kiss which she in all innocence prof- 
 fered him. " Pretty child, Kathleen, uncommonly pretty," 
 he continued as the door closed behind the graceful fig- 
 ure. " It strikes me, Con, your girls have all the good 
 looks of the family in the younger generation, with the 
 exception of Violet Aldham. But she's getting pinched, 
 a bit pinched and witch-like. Then she makes up too 
 much. I have no prejudice against a woman's improv- 
 ing upon nature where nature's been niggardly. But 
 it is among the things that'll keep. It's a mistake to 
 begin it too early. In my opinion Violet has begun it 
 too early might quite well have given herself another 
 ten years' grace. Maggie's girls are gawky, you know; 
 and, between ourselves, so terribly flat, poor things, both 
 fore and aft. Upon my word, I'm not surprised they 
 don't marry." 
 
 " I am afraid Maggie feels it a good deal," said Lady 
 Constance. Satisfaction mingled with pity in her soul. 
 The disabilities of other women's children are never
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 95 
 
 wholly distressing to a tender mother's heart. " You see, 
 she's so anxious the girls should not marry the bishop's 
 chaplains ; and yet really they hardly see any other young 
 men. I think it is a very difficult position, that of a 
 bishop's wife." 
 
 Lord Fallowfeild smiled, settling himself back in the 
 corner of the wide sofa and crossing his long legs. He 
 had' thought more deeply on a good many subjects than 
 the. majority of his acquaintance supposed; with the 
 consequence that he occasionally surprised his fellow-peers 
 by the acuteness of his observations in debate. Lord 
 Fallowfeild, it may be added, took his recently acquired 
 office of hereditary legislator with a commendable mixture 
 of humour and seriousness. 
 
 " Their position is an anomalous one," he said ; " and 
 an anomalous position is inevitably a difficult one ought 
 to be so, in my opinion. But that's not to the point. 
 We were talking, not about the episcopal ladies, but 
 about this little business of Kathleen's. So you believe 
 Lady Sokeington has views and intentions?" 
 
 " I know that she has. But you see, Shotover," Lady 
 Constance went on, returning to the name which that 
 gentleman had rendered somewhat notorious in earlier 
 years by a record in sport, in debts, in amours, and in 
 irresistible sweetness of temper " I want to be quite 
 sure he is really good. Because the affair has not gone 
 very far yet and it might be put a stop to at least I 
 hope and think it might without making darling Kath- 
 leen too dreadfully unhappy. You do believe he really 
 is good? " 
 
 Lord Fallowfeild leaned forward and rubbed a hardly 
 perceptible atom of fluff off his left trouser leg just above 
 the ankle. 
 
 " My dear Con," he answered, " you are very charm- 
 ing, but you are a trifle embarrassing, too, you know,
 
 96 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 Haven't you learned, even at this time of day, that very 
 few men in our world are good in a good woman's sense 
 of the word?" 
 
 Lady Constance's smooth forehead puckered into fine 
 little lines. 
 
 " Shotover, dear," she said, " you're not getting em- 
 bittered, I hope? " 
 
 "Me? Bless you, no, never in life!" he returned, 
 smiling very reassuringly at her. " Don't worry your- 
 self under that head. I quarrel with nobody and nothing, 
 not even the consequences of my past iniquities. It is 
 a very just world, take it all round, and has been kinder 
 to me than I deserve." 
 
 " Oh ! but you do nothing, you you are what you 
 won't think me rude, Shotover ? what the boys call * very 
 decent ' now." 
 
 Lady Constance spoke hurriedly, her colour rising in 
 the most engaging manner. 
 
 " As decent as I know how, you dear soul," he said, 
 taking her hand in his. " But that makes no difference 
 to one's knowledge of one's own ways, in the past, or of 
 the ways of other men." 
 
 " But Alaric Barking? " 
 
 " Neither better nor worse than the rest." 
 
 Then Lord Fallowfeild shut his small and beautiful 
 mouth very tight, as though he would be glad to avoid 
 further cross-questioning. Lady Constance's forehead 
 remained puckered. 
 
 "It's dreadfully difficult when one's girls grow up," 
 she said plaintively. "One can be comfortable about 
 them, poor darlings, and enjoy them when they are in 
 the nursery even in the schoolroom, though governesses 
 are worrying. They know so much about quantities of 
 subjects which seem to me not to matter. One never re- 
 fers to them in ordinary conversation ; and if one should
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 97 
 
 be obliged to It Is so easy to ask somebody to tell one. 
 And yet they manage to make me feel dreadfully uncom- 
 fortable and ignorant because I know nothing about them. 
 But when they grow up " 
 
 "Who, the governesses?" Lord Fallowfeild inquired. 
 " I never supposed they stood in need of that process 
 thought they started out of the egg all finished, as you 
 might say, and ran about at once like chickens." 
 
 " No, no, the girls, poor darlings," Lady Constance 
 replied. " One does get dreadfully anxious about them, 
 Shotover, really one does specially if one has escaped 
 something very frightening oneself and has been very 
 happy lest they should fall in love with the wrong peo- 
 ple, or lest they should be anything which one did not 
 know beforehand and then everything should turn out 
 dreadful. I should be so miserable. I don't think I could 
 bear it. I know it is wrong to say that, because if one 
 was really good, one would accept whatever God sent 
 without murmuring. So I could for myself, I think. In 
 any case I should earnestly try to. But for the children 
 it is so much harder. If they were unhappy I should feel 
 ashamed of having had them as if I'd done something 
 horribly selfish; because, you see, there can be nothing 
 so delightful as having children." 
 
 She looked at Lord Fallowfeild in the most pathetic 
 manner, the corners of her mouth a-shake. And he took 
 her hand and held it again, touched by the sincerity of 
 her confused utterance, and the great mother-love resident 
 in her. Touched, perhaps, by the age-old problem of 
 man and maid, also. 
 
 "Dear little Con, dear little Con," he said, "I'm 
 awfully sorry you should be worried, but I'm afraid we've 
 got to look facts in the face. And it's no kindness for me 
 to lie to you about these matters. I don't pretend to say 
 what's right or what's wrong; I only say what it is. We
 
 98 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 can't make society, and the ways of it, all over again 
 even to save Kathleen a heartache. I don't want to seem 
 a brute, but she must just take her chance along with 
 the rest of you. Marriage always has been a confounded 
 uncertain business, and will always remain so, I suppose. 
 The sort of remedies excited persons suggest to mitigate 
 the dangers of it are a good deal worse than the disease, 
 in my opinion. Every woman has to take her chance. 
 Every man has to take his, too, you know and the 
 chance strikes some of us as such an uncommonly poor 
 one, that, upon my honour, it seems safest to wash one's 
 hands of it altogether." 
 
 " But you're not unhappy, Shotover, dear? You're 
 not lonely?" Lady Constance inquired anxiously. 
 
 " Abominably so sometimes, Con. But I manage, oh ! 
 I manage. I have my consolations " he smiled at her, 
 perhaps a trifle shamefacedly. " But now about Kath- 
 leen," he went on, " as I say, she must take her chance 
 along with the rest of you, poor little dear. After all, 
 you took your chance when you married Decies, and it 
 has not turned out so badly, you know." 
 
 Lady Constance became radiant once more, as some 
 mild-shining summer moon emerging from behind tem- 
 porarily obscuring clouds. 
 
 " Oh ! but then," she said, " of course that was so 
 entirely different." 
 
 Lord Fallowfeild patted her hand, his head bent, look- 
 ing at her somewhat merrily. 
 
 "Was it, my dear, was it? I wonder," he said. 
 
 She withdrew her hand with a certain dignity. Not- 
 withstanding her softness and tenderness, there were 
 occasions even with those she loved best when Lady 
 Constance could delicately mark her displeasure. 
 
 " I think you are a little embittered, Shotover," she 
 asserted.
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 99 
 
 He leaned back, still smiling, and shaking his head at 
 her. 
 
 " Old and wise unpleasantly old, and not quite such 
 a fool as I used to be, that's all," he answered. 
 
 For a time there was silence, both brother and sister 
 thinking their own thoughts. Then the latter spoke. 
 Like many gentle persons, she was persistent. She al- 
 ways had been so. 
 
 " I should be so grateful if you would tell me, because 
 I think I ought to know, and then I should try to turn 
 the course of darling Kathleen's affections before it all 
 becomes too pronounced. Is there any entanglement, any- 
 thing amounting to what one calls an impediment, in 
 well you understand against Alaric Barking?" 
 
 Lord Fallowfeild got up, took a turn across the room, 
 came back, and stood in front of her. 
 
 " I wish you wouldn't, Con," he said. " Upon my soul, 
 I wish you wouldn't. It's a nasty thing for an old man, 
 who has gone the pace in his day pretty thoroughly, to 
 give away a lad who may have made a slip just at the 
 start, and who is doing his best to get his feet again 
 and run straight. Alaric Barking's a good fellow. I 
 like him. I never have been and never shall be partial 
 to that family. Your sister Louisa cried up their vir- 
 tues and their confounded solvency, in the old days, till 
 she made them a positive nuisance. She's not a happy 
 way of inculcating a moral economic lesson, hasn't Louisa. 
 But I own I'm fond of this boy. He's far the best of the 
 whole lot gentlemanlike, and a sportsman, and good- 
 looking unusually so for one of that family and, my 
 dear, he's downright honestly in love with Kathleen. I've 
 watched him did so when he was down at Ranelagh one 
 day last month with her and Victoria Sokeington and 
 I know the real thing when I see it." 
 
 " But but, I am afraid, Shotover, you mean me to
 
 100 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 understand there is some impediment? " Lady Constance 
 repeated. 
 
 " Oh ! well, hang it all, I'm awfully sorry, but if you 
 are determined to have it, Connie, perhaps there is. Only 
 for heaven's sake don't be in too much of a hurry. Be- 
 tween ourselves, I happen to know the boy's doing his 
 best to shake himself free in an honourable manner. So 
 don't rush the business. Like the dear tender-hearted 
 creature you are, have a little mercy on the poor beggar. 
 Let the whole affair drift a little. It may straighten 
 out." 
 
 Lady Constance meditated for a minute or so. 
 
 " It's very dreadful that there should be any impedi- 
 ment," she said. 
 
 " I'll back Alaric to agree with you there," Lord Fal- 
 lowfeild answered. 
 
 " You'll do what you can, Shotover, won't you, to help 
 Kathleen? I never forget how you helped me once!" 
 
 Lord Fallowfeild's handsome face expressed rather 
 broad amusement. 
 
 " I'm afraid the two cases are hardly parallel, my 
 dear," he said.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 " THE play's on the other side, the crowd's on the other 
 side, all the fun's on the other side, and I am on this 
 side with nothing more lively than you, you little shiv- 
 ering idiot, for company." 
 
 I*oppy St. John drew the spaniel's long silky ears 
 through her fingers slowly. 
 
 " I am bored, Cappadocia," she said, with a yawn 
 which she made not the slightest effort to stifle, " bored 
 right through to my very marrow. Oh dear, oh dear, 
 oh dear, how I do wish something would happen ! " 
 
 Poppy sat, propped up with scarlet silk cushions, in 
 a cane deck-chair, on the white-railed balcony upon which 
 the first-floor bedroom windows opened. Around her 
 were strewn illustrated magazines and ladies' papers ; but 
 unfortunately the stories in the former appeared to her 
 every bit as silly as the fashion-plates in the latter. Both 
 had equally little to do with life as the ordinary flesh 
 and blood human being lives it. She was filled with a 
 rebellious sense of the banality of her surroundings this 
 afternoon. Even from her coign of vantage upon the 
 balcony, whence wide prospects disclosed themselves, 
 everything looked foolish, pointless, of the nature of an 
 unpardonably stale joke. 
 
 The said balcony, divided into separate compartments 
 by the interposition of wooden barriers, extended the 
 whole length of the terrace of twenty-seven houses. And 
 these were all precisely alike, with white wood and stucco 
 " enrichments," as the technical phrase has it. Cheap 
 stained and leaded glass adorned the upper panels of 
 the twenty-seven front doors, which were approached by 
 twenty-seven flights of steps thus securing a measure 
 
 101
 
 102 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 of light and air to the twenty-seven basements. The front 
 doors were set in couples, alternating with couples of 
 lay windows. There was a determination of cheap smart- 
 ness, a smirking self-consciousness about the little houses, 
 a suggestion of having put on their best frocks and 
 high-heeled shoes and standing very much on tiptoe 
 to attract attention. The balconies, narrow where the 
 upper bays encroached on them, wide where the house 
 fronts were recessed above the twin front doors, broke forth 
 into a garland of flower-boxes. Cascades of pink ivy- 
 leaf geranium, creeping-jenny, and nasturtiums backed 
 by white or yellow Paris daisies, flowed outward between 
 the white balusters and masked the edge of the wood- 
 work. The effect, though pretty, was not quite satisfac- 
 tory being suggestive of millinery, of an over-trimmed 
 summer hat. 
 
 Immediately below was the roadway, bordered by an 
 asphalt pavement on either side, then the high impene- 
 trable oak paling, which had baffled Dominic Iglesias' 
 maiden effort at participation in the amusements of the 
 rich. From Poppy's balcony, however, the palings of- 
 fered no impediment to observation. All the green ex- 
 panse of the smaller polo-ground was visible. So was 
 the whole height of the grove of majestic elms on the 
 right and the back of the club house; and, on the left, 
 between massifs of shrubbery, a vista of lawns sloping 
 towards the river peopled by a sauntering crowd. 
 
 It was upon this last that Poppy directed her gaze. 
 To the naked eye the units composing it showed as ver- 
 tical lines of grey, brown, and black, blotted with bright 
 'delicate colour, and splashed here and there with white, 
 the whole mingling, uniting, breaking into fresh combina- 
 tions kaleidoscope fashion. Through the opera-glasses 
 figures of men, women, and horses detached themselves, 
 becoming quaintly distinct, neat as toys, an assemblage
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 103 
 
 of elegant highly finished marionnettes. There was a 
 fascination in watching the movement of these brilliant, 
 clear-cut silent little things upon that amazingly verdant 
 carpet of grass. But it was a fascination which, for 
 Poppy, had by now worn somewhat thin. The interest 
 proved too far away, too impersonal. Indeed it may be 
 questioned whether any who have not within themselves 
 large store of resignation, or of hope, can look on at 
 gaiety, in which they have no share, without first sadness 
 and then pretty lively irritation. And of those two most 
 precious commodities, resignation and hope, Poppy had 
 but limited reserve stock at present. So she pulled the 
 little dog's ears rather hard and lamented: 
 
 " Oh ! my good gracious me, if only something would 
 happen ! " 
 
 Then, the words hardly out of her mouth, she shot the 
 much-enduring Cappadocia off her lap and, restoring her 
 elbows on the rail, leaned right out over the balcony. 
 
 " Come here, dear beautiful lunatic, come here," she 
 cried. " For pity's sake don't pass by ! " 
 
 Perhaps fortunately this very unconventional invita- 
 tion was lost upon Dominic Iglesias, soberly crossing the 
 road with due observance of the eccentricities of the driv- 
 ers of motor-cars and riders of bicycles. Looking up, 
 he was aware of a vision quite sufficiently indicative of 
 welcome, without added indiscretion of words. The white 
 balustrade, the trailing fringe of nasturtiums, succulent 
 leaves and orange-scarlet blossoms ; the woman's bust and 
 shoulders in her string-coloured lace gown, her small face, 
 curiously vivid in effect, capped by the heavy masses of 
 her black hair, her singular eyes full of light, the red 
 of her lips and tinge of stationary pink in her cheeks 
 supplemented by a glow of quick excitement. A few 
 weeks ago the ascetic in Iglesias might have taken alarm. 
 Now it was different. He had his idea, and, walking
 
 104 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 in the strength of it, dared adventure himself in neigh- 
 bourhoods otherwise slightly questionable. 
 
 Five minutes later Poppy advanced across the little 
 drawing-room to meet him. 
 
 u Well/* she said, " of course you might have come 
 sooner. But, equally of course, you might never have 
 come at all, so I won't quarrel with you about the delay, 
 though I would like you to know it has worried me a good 
 deal" 
 
 "Has it? I am sorry for that," Dominic answered 
 gravely. 
 
 ** Yes, be sorry, be sorry," she repeated. " It is com- 
 fortable to hear you say so." 
 
 She looked at him with the utmost frankness, took 
 his hand and led him to a settee filling in the right angle 
 between the fireplace and the double doors at the back 
 of the room. 
 
 ** Sit down,** she said, " and let us talk. Have another 
 cushion so and if you're good I'll give you tea pres- 
 ently. And understand, you needn't be careful of your- 
 self. I'll play perfectly fair with you. Fve been thinking 
 it all out during this time you didn't come; and I never 
 go back on my word once given. So, look here, you 
 needn't account for yourself in any way. I don't even 
 want to know your name specially I don't want to know 
 that. It might localise you, and I don't want to have 
 you localised. Directly a person is localised it takes 
 away their restfulness to one. One begins to see just 
 all the places where they belong to somebody else, notice- 
 boards stuck up everywhere warning one to keep off 
 the grass. And that's a nuisance. It raises Old Nick 
 in one, and makes one long to commit all manner of 
 wickedness which would never have entered one's head 
 otherwise.** 
 
 Poppy held her hands palm to palm between her knees,
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 105 
 
 glancing at Dominic Iglesias now and again sideways as 
 she spoke. The bodice of her dress, cut slightly en 
 canir, showed the nape of her neck, and the whole of her 
 throat, which was smooth and rounded though rather 
 long. Her make altogether was that not uncommon to 
 London girls of the lower middle-class: small-boned and 
 possibly anaemic, but prettily moulded, and with an at- 
 traction of over-civilisation as of hot-house-grown plants. 
 Just now her head seemed bowed down by the weight of 
 her dark hair, as she sat gathered together, making her- 
 self small as a child will when concentrating its mind to 
 the statement of some serious purpose. 
 
 " I've knocked about a lot," she went on. " It's right 
 you should know that. And there's not very much left 
 to tell me about a number of things not usually set down 
 in conversation books designed for debutants. But just 
 on that account I may be rather useful to you in some 
 ways. Don't go and be offended now, there's a dear, 
 good man," she added coaxingly. w Because judging by 
 what you told me the other day, there's no doubt that, 
 under some heads, you are very much of a debutant" 
 
 " I suppose I am," Iglesias said slowly. It was very 
 strange to him to find himself in so sudden and close an 
 intimacy with this at once so wise and so artificial woman 
 creature. But he had his idea. Moreover, increasingly 
 he trusted her. 
 
 " Of course you are," she asserted. " That* s just 
 where the beauty of it all comes hi. You're the veriest 
 infant. One has only to look into your face to see that. 
 Don't go and freeze up now. You belong to another 
 order of doctrine and practice to that current in corn- 
 temporary society." 
 
 Poppy gazed at the floor, still making herself small, 
 the palms of her hands pressed together between her 
 knees.
 
 106 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 " And that's just why you can be useful to me, awfully 
 useful, if you choose I don't mean money, business, any- 
 thing of the kind. I'm perfectly competent to manage 
 my own affairs, thank you. But you're good for me, 
 somehow. You rest me." 
 
 She began to rock herself gently backwards and for- 
 wards, but without taking the heels of her shoes off the 
 ground. 
 
 " Yes, you rest me, you rest me," she repeated. 
 
 " I am glad," Iglesias said. He felt soberly pleased, 
 thankful almost. 
 
 Again Poppy glanced at him sideways. 
 
 " Yes, I believe you are," she said. " And that shows 
 things have happened to you in you, more likely since 
 we last met. You have come on a great piece." 
 
 " I doubt if I have come on, so much as gone back, 
 to influences of long ago," he answered ; " to things 
 which had been overlaid by the dust of my working years 
 almost to the point of obliteration." 
 
 "Was it pleasant to go back? " Poppy asked. 
 
 " Not at all. The going was painful. It required some 
 courage to brush off the dust." 
 
 " It usually does require courage at least that's my 
 experience to brush off the dust." 
 
 Dominic Iglesias made no immediate answer. He was 
 a little startled at his companion's acute reading of him, 
 a little touched by her confidence. Her words seemed 
 to suggest the possibility of a relationship which fitted 
 in admirably with the development of his idea. He sat 
 looking away across the room, and, doing so, became 
 aware that the said room possessed unexpected charac- 
 teristics, calculated to elucidate his impressions of its 
 owner's character. It was a man's room rather than a 
 woman's, innocent of furbelows and frills. Two low, 
 wide settees, well furnished with cushions and upholstered
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 107 
 
 in dark yellowish-red tapestry, fitted into the corners on 
 either side the double doors. A couple of large armchairs 
 and a revolving book-table occupied the centre of the 
 room. An upright piano, in an ebonised case, draped 
 across the back with an Indian phulkari discs of look- 
 ing-glass set in coarsely worked yellow eyelet holes form- 
 ing the border of it stood at right angles to the wall 
 just short of the bay window. In the window, placed 
 slant-wise, was a carved black oak writing-table, a long 
 row of photographs stuck up against the back shelf of 
 it. The walls were hung with a set of William Nicolson's 
 prints, strong, dark, distinct, slightly sinister in effect; 
 a fine etching of Jean Fra^ois Millet's Gleaners; and, 
 in noticeable contrast to this last, a mezzotint of Rom- 
 ney's picture of Lady Hamilton spinning. Upon the 
 book-table were a silver ash-tray and cigarette-box. The 
 air was unquestionably impregnated with the odour of 
 tobacco, which the burning of scent-sticks quite failed 
 to dissemble. 
 
 While Mr. Iglesias thus noted the details of his sur- 
 roundings, his companion observed him, closely, intently. 
 Suddenly she flung herself back against the piled-up 
 cushions. 
 
 " Let the dust lie, let it lie," she cried, almost shrilly. 
 And as Dominic turned to her, surprised at her vehe- 
 mence, she added, " Yes, it's safest so. Let it lie 
 till it grows thick, carpeting all the surface, so that, 
 treading on it, one's footsteps are muffled, making no 
 sound ! " 
 
 Poppy jumped up, crossed swiftly to the writing-table, 
 swept the long row of photographs together and pushed 
 them into a drawer. 
 
 " There you go, face downwards, every man Jack of 
 you," she said, " And, for all I care, there you may 
 Stay,"
 
 108 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 Then she turned round, confronting Dominic Iglesias, 
 who had risen also, her head carried high, her teeth set. 
 
 " You may not grasp the connection of ideas I don't 
 the very least see how you should, and I've no extra 
 special wish that you should. But you must just take 
 my word for it that's one way of thickening the dust, in 
 my particular case, and not half a bad way either ! " 
 
 She pushed the heavy masses of her hair up from her 
 forehead, crossed the little room again and stood before 
 Iglesias smiling, her hands clasped behind her back. 
 
 " Yes, you rest me," she said, " you do, even more 
 than I expected. I wanted awfully to see you; and yet 
 I was half afraid if I did we mightn't pull the thing off. 
 But we are going to pull it off, aren't we? " 
 
 This direct appeal demanded a direct answer; and 
 Iglesias, looking down at her, felt nerved to a certain 
 steadiness of resolve. 
 
 " Yes, we are," he said gravely. " That, at least, is 
 my purpose. I have very few friends. I should value 
 a new one." Then he added, with a certain hesitancy, 
 " I am glad you are not disappointed." 
 
 " Ah ! you have come on not a question about it," 
 Poppy cried. " Sit down again. You needn't go yet. 
 And we are through with disturbances for this afternoon 
 anyhow. An anti-cyclone, as the weather reports put 
 it, is extending over all our coasts. I feel quite happy. 
 Let me enjoy the anti-cyclone while it lasts and I'll 
 give you your tea." 
 
 But of that tea Dominic Iglesias was fated not to 
 drink. A ring at the bell, a parley at the front door, 
 followed by the advent of an elderly parlourmaid bearing 
 a card on a small lacquer tray. 
 
 " His lordship says if you're engaged he could wait 
 a little, ma'am. But he wants particularly to see you 
 to-day."
 
 109 
 
 Poppy took the card, glanced at it, and then at Dom- 
 inic Iglesias. 
 
 " I'm afraid, I'm awfully afraid I shall have to let 
 you go," she said. She took both his hands, and holding 
 them, without pressure but with a great friendliness, went 
 on : " Don't be offended, or you'll make me miserable. 
 But he's an old friend ; and he's been a perfect brick to 
 me ^stood by me through all my worst luck. I can't send 
 him,, away. You won't be offended? " 
 
 " No," Iglesias said. 
 
 " And you will come again ? You make me feel all 
 smooth and good. You promise you'll come? " 
 
 " Yes," Iglesias said. 
 
 In the narrow passage a tall, eminently well-dressed 
 middle-aged gentleman stood aside to let him pass. 
 Dominic Iglesias received the impression of a very hand- 
 some person, whose possible insolence of bearing re- 
 ceived agreeable modification, thanks to the expression of 
 kindly humorous eyes and a notably beautiful mouth. 
 
 Upon the centre table of the square first-floor sitting- 
 room at Cedar Lodge a note awaited Mr. Iglesias, ad- 
 dressed in George Lovegrove's neat business hand. 
 
 " Dear old friend," it ran " the wife asks you to take 
 supper with us to-morrow night. Step across as early 
 as you like. My cousin, Miss Serena Lovegrove, is pay- 
 ing us a visit. Yours faithfully, G. L. N. B. Come as 
 you are: no ceremony. G. L."
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 " HULLO, girlie," called the red and green parrot, as it 
 helped itself up the side of its zinc cage with beak as well 
 as claws. 
 
 Serena Lovegrove had opened the door suddenly. Then, 
 seeing that Mr. Iglesias alone occupied the room, neither 
 her host nor hostess being present, she paused in the 
 doorway, a large floppy yellow silk work-bag in her hands, 
 undecided whether to retreat or to proceed. And it was 
 thus that the bird, discovering her advent, announced 
 it, while the pupils of his hard, round yellowish grey eyes 
 dilated and contracted " snapped," as Serena would have 
 said maliciously. 
 
 Serena was a tall, elegant, faded woman, dressed in 
 black, her little upright head balanced upon a long thin 
 stalk of neck. Though undeniably faded, there was, as 
 now seen in the quiet evening light, a suggestion of youth- 
 fulness about her. Her brown eyes, pretty though rather 
 small, snapped even as did those of the parrot. Excite- 
 ment to-night she was very much excited invariably 
 produced in Serena an effect of clutching at her long- 
 departed girlhood, an effect sufficiently pathetic in the 
 case of a woman well on in the forties. And it was pre- 
 cisely this ineffectual throw-back to a Serena of seven- 
 teen or eighteen which lent a sharp edge of irony to 
 the strident salutations of the parrot, as it called out 
 again : 
 
 " Hullo, girlie ! Polly's own pet girlie," then with a 
 prolonged and ear-piercing whistle: "Hi, four-wheeler! 
 girlie's going out." And hoarsely, with a growl in its 
 throat: "Move on there, stoopid, can't yer? Shut the 
 door." 
 
 110
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 111 
 
 Buring the delivery of these final admonitions Mr. 
 Iglesias had recognised the shadowy figure standing on 
 the threshold and advanced. This decided Serena. Still 
 twisting the ribbons of the yellow work-bag round her 
 thin fingers, she drifted into the room. 
 
 " I think I have had the pleasure of meeting you once 
 or twice before, Miss Lovegrove," Dominic said. His 
 manner was specially gentle and courtly, for he could 
 not but feel the poor lady was at a disadvantage, owing 
 to the very articulate indiscretions of the parrot. 
 
 " Oh ! yes," Serena answered. " Certainly we have 
 met. But you are wrong as to the number of times. 
 It is more than once or twice. Five times, I think; or 
 it may have been six. No, it is five, because I remember 
 you were expected, in the evening, the day before I went 
 home the winter before last ; and at the last moment you 
 were unable to come. That would have made six. Now 
 it is only five." 
 
 " You have an excellent memory," Iglesias said. " It 
 is kind of you to remember so clearly." 
 
 " I wonder if it is I mean, I wonder whether it is 
 kind," Serena rejoined. 
 
 She was quite innocent of any intention of sarcasm. 
 But her mind, like those of so many unoccupied, and con- 
 sequently self-occupied, persons, was addicted to specu- 
 lation of a minor and vacuous sort. She was also liable 
 as such persons often are to mistake cavilling for 
 spirit and wit a most tedious error! 
 
 " Still you are right in saying I have a good memory," 
 she added. " People generally observe that. But then 
 I was always taught it was rude to forget. Forgetful- 
 ness is the result of inattention. At school I never had 
 any difficulty in learning by heart." 
 
 " You must have found that both a useful and pleasant 
 talent."
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 " Perhaps," Serena replied negligently. She was de- 
 termined not to commit herself, having arrived at the 
 conclusion that Mr. Iglesias' address was too civil. " It 
 was bad manners of him not to remember how often we 
 had met," she said to herself, " and now he is trying to 
 pass it off. But that won't do ! " Serena had many and 
 distinct views on the subject of manner and manners. 
 She was never certain that civility did not argue a de- 
 fect of sincerity. She agreed with herself to think that 
 over again later. Meanwhile she would carefully remark 
 Mr. Iglesias. " If he is insincere, as I fear he is, he 
 is sure to betray it in other ways. Then I shall be on 
 my guard." Forewarned is, of course, forearmed, and 
 Serena felt very acute. Though against exactly what 
 she was taking such elaborate precautions, it would have 
 been difficult for her, or for anyone else, to have stated. 
 However, just now it was incumbent upon her to make 
 conversation. As is the way with persons not very fer- 
 tile in ideas, she had recourse to the simple expedient of 
 asking a leading question. 
 
 " Are you fond of animals ? " she inquired. 
 
 " I am afraid I have very little knowledge of animals," 
 Iglesias replied. 
 
 Serena laughed dryly. This was so transparent a sub- 
 terfuge. 
 
 " What a very odd answer ! " she said. " Because ev- 
 erybody must really know whether they like animals or 
 not." 
 
 " I am afraid I stand by myself then, a solitary ex- 
 ception. I have had little or nothing to do with animals, 
 and have therefore had no opportunity of discovering 
 whether they attract me or not." 
 
 " How very odd ! " Serena repeated. 
 
 She moved across to the centre-table where Mr. Love- 
 grove's books of picture postcards, the miscellaneous con-
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 113 
 
 sequences of many charity bazaars, and kindred aesthetic 
 treasures reposed, and deposited her work-bag in their 
 company. Her movement revived the attention of the 
 parrot, who had been nodding on its perch. 
 
 " Poor old girlie, take a brandy and soda? Kiss and 
 be friends. Good-night, all," it murmured hoarsely, half 
 asleep. 
 
 " If your question bore reference to that particular 
 aninaal, I stand in no doubt as to my sentiments," Dominic 
 remarked. " I am anything but fond of it. I think it 
 an odious bird." 
 
 " Ah ! you see you do know," Serena exclaimed. " I 
 was sure you did." She felt justified in her suspicion of 
 his sincerity. " But nobody would agree with you, Mr. 
 Iglesias, because of course it is really a very clever par- 
 rot. They very seldom learn to say so many things." 
 
 " How fortunate ! " Dominic permitted himself to 
 ejaculate. 
 
 " I don't see why you should say it is fortunate." 
 
 " Do not its remarks strike you as somewhat imperti- 
 nent and intrusive? " 
 
 " I wonder if an animal can be impertinent," Serena 
 said reflectively. 
 
 But here to her vexation, for it appeared to her that 
 she had just started a really interesting subject of dis- 
 cussion, Mrs. Lovegrove bustled into the room. 
 
 " Well, Mr. Iglesias," she began, " I am sure I am 
 very delighted to see you, and so will Georgie be. He 
 was remarking only yesterday we don't seem to see so 
 much of you as we used to do. He's just a little behind 
 time, is Georgie, having been kept by the dear vicar at 
 a meeting about the Church Workers' Social Evenings 
 Guild at the Mission Room in Little Bethesda Street. 
 You wouldn't know where that is, Mr. Iglesias though 
 I can't help hoping you will some day but Serena knows,
 
 114 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 don't you, Serena? It's where Susan her elder sister, 
 Miss Lovegrove " this aside to Dominic " gave an 
 address once to the members of the Society for the Con- 
 version of the Jews." 
 
 " No doubt I remember ; but Susan is always giving 
 addresses somewhere," Serena said loftily. 
 
 " And very good and kind of her it is to give ad- 
 dresses," Mrs. Lovegrove rejoined. " Even the dear vicar 
 says what a remarkable gift she has as a speaker, and 
 there's no question as to the worth of his praise." 
 
 " I wonder if it is I mean I wonder if it is good and 
 kind of Susan to give addresses," Serena remarked. " Be- 
 cause of course she enjoys giving them. Susan likes 
 to have a number of people listening to her." 
 
 "But if the object is a noble one?" this from Mrs. 
 Lovegrove, a little nonplussed and put about. 
 
 " Still, if you enjoy doing anything, how can it be 
 good and kind to do it ? " Serena said argumentatively . 
 " Susan is very fond of publicity. I think people very 
 often deceive themselves about their own motives." 
 
 She looked meaningly at Dominic Iglesias as she spoke. 
 And he looked back at her gravely and kindly, though 
 with a slightly amused smile. His thoughts had trav- 
 elled away they had done so pretty frequently during 
 the last twenty-four hours to the smirking self-conscious 
 little house on the verge of Barnes Common. Unprom- 
 ising though it had appeared outwardly, yet within it 
 he believed he had found a friend a friend who was also 
 an enigma. Perhaps, as he now reflected, all women are 
 enigmas. Certainly they are amazingly different. He 
 thought of Poppy. He looked at Serena. Yes, doubt- 
 less they all are enigmas ; only might Heaven forgive 
 him the discourtesy all are not enigmas equally well 
 worth finding out. 
 
 George Lovegrove arrived. Supper, a somewhat heavy
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 115 
 
 and ' hybrid meal, followed " all comfortable and 
 friendly," as Mrs. Lovegrove described it, " no ceremony 
 and fal-lals, but everything put down on the table so 
 that you could see it and please yourself." 
 
 Serena, however, was difficult to please. She picked 
 daintily at the food on her plate. Her host observed 
 her with solicitude. 
 
 "Do take a little more," he said, in an anxious aside, 
 Mrs. Lovegrove being safely engaged in conversation 
 with Mr. Iglesias, " or I shall begin to be nervous lest 
 we aren't offering you quite what you like." 
 
 But Serena was obdurate. 
 
 " Pray don't mind, George," she said. " You know 
 I never eat much. I am quite different from Susan, for 
 instance. She always has a large appetite, and so have 
 all her friends. Low Church people always have, I think. 
 But I never care to eat a great deal, especially in hot 
 weather." 
 
 Serena was really very glad indeed to come to London 
 just now. Still, there were self-respecting decencies to 
 be observed, specially in the presence of another guest. 
 Relationship does not necessarily imply social equality ; 
 and, as Serena reminded herself, the family always had 
 felt that poor George had married beneath him. There- 
 fore it was well to keep the fact of her own superior 
 refinement well in view. In the case of good George Love- 
 grove this was, however, a work of supererogation. For 
 he had a, to himself, positively embarrassing respect for 
 Serena's gentility embarrassing because at moments it 
 came painfully near endangering the completeness of his 
 consideration for " the wife's feelings." The two ladies 
 frequently differed upon matters of taste and etiquette, 
 with the result that the good man's guileless breast was 
 torn by conflicting emotions. For had not Serena's 
 father been a General Officer of the Indian army? And
 
 116 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 had not Serena herself and her elder sister Susan a 
 person of definite views and commanding character long 
 been resident at Slowby in Midlandshire, an inland' 
 watering-place of acknowledged fashion? It followed 
 that her pronouncements on social questions were neces- 
 sarily final. Yet to uphold her judgment, as against 
 that of the wife, was to risk mortifying the latter. And t 
 to mortify the wife would be to act as a heartless scoun- 
 drel. Hence situations, for George Lovegrove, difficult 
 to the point of producing profuse perspiration. 
 
 That night Serena prepared for rest with remarkable 
 deliberation. Clad in a blue and white striped cotton 
 dressing-gown, she sat long at her toilet-table. And all 
 the time she wondered a far-reaching, mazelike, elabo- 
 rately intricate and wholly inconclusive wonder. Hers 
 was a nature which suffered perpetual solicitation from 
 possible alternatives, hearing warning voices from the 
 vague, delusive regions of the might-be or might-have- 
 been. She had never grasped the rudimentary but very 
 important truth that only that which actually is in the 
 least matters. And so to arrive at what is, with all possible 
 despatch in so far as such arriving is practicable and 
 then to go forward, comprises the whole duty of the sane 
 human being. Far from this, Serena's mind forever 
 flitted batlike in the half -darkness of innumerable small 
 prejudices and ignorances. She moved, as do so many 
 women of her class, in a twilight, embryonic world, un- 
 touched alike by the splendour and terror of living. 
 
 Nevertheless, on this particular occasion, as she 
 brushed her hair and inserted the tortoise-shell curling- 
 pins which should secure to-morrow's decorative effects, 
 she felt almost daring and dangerous. She wondered 
 whether she had really enjoyed the evening or not; 
 whether she had held her own and shown independence 
 and spirit. She laboured under the quaint early-Victo-
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 117 
 
 rian'notion that, in the presence of members of the oppo- 
 site sex, a woman is called upon always to play something 
 of a part. She should advance, so to speak, and then 
 retreat ; provoke interest by a studied indifference ; yield 
 a little, only to become more elegantly fugitive. It may 
 be doubted whether these wiles have ever been a very 
 successful adjunct to feminine charms. But in the case 
 of so negative and colourless a creature as Serena, they 
 were pathetically devoid of result. Play a part indus- 
 triously as she might, the majority of her audience was 
 wholly unaware that she was, in point of fact, playing 
 anything at all ! They might think her a little capricious, 
 a little foolish, but that there was intention or purpose 
 in her pallid flightiness passed the bounds of imagination. 
 Never mind, if the audience had no sense of the position, 
 Serena had, and she enjoyed it. Excitement possessed 
 her, and her eyes snapped even yet as, thinking it all 
 over, she fastened the curlers in her hair. 
 
 She wondered whether George and Rhoda how in? 
 tensely she disliked the name Rhoda! had any special 
 reason for asking her just now, and talking so much about 
 Mr. Iglesias, or whether it was a coincidence. 
 
 " Of course it is not of the slightest importance to me 
 whether they have or not," she reflected. " I think it 
 would be rather an impertinence if they had. Still, I 
 think I had better find out; but without letting Rhoda 
 suspect, of course. If you give her any encouragement 
 Rhoda is inclined to go too far and say what is rather 
 indelicate. I always have thought Rhoda had a rather 
 vulgar mind. I wonder if poor George feels that? I 
 believe he does, before me. Once or twice to-night he 
 was very nervous. How dreadfully coarse poor Rhoda's 
 skin is getting! I wonder if Rhoda has given Susan a 
 hint, and if that was what made Susan so gracious about 
 my leaving home? But I don't believe she did I mean
 
 118 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 that Susan suspected that George and Rhoda had any 
 particular reason for inviting me. I wonder if I shall 
 ever make Susan see that I am not a cipher? Of course 
 if George and Rhoda really have any particular reason, 
 and Susan comes to know it, that will show her that 
 other people do not consider me a cipher. I wonder what 
 most people would think of Mr. Iglesias? Of course 
 he has only been a bank clerk; but then so has George. 
 Only then he is a foreigner, and that makes a difference. 
 I wonder whether, if anything came of it, Susan would 
 make his being a foreigner an objection? " 
 
 But this was growing altogether too definite and con- 
 crete. With a sort of mental squeak Serena's thought 
 flitted into twilight and embryonic regions. 
 
 " I think if they have any particular reason, it is rather 
 scheming of George and Rhoda. I wonder if it is nice 
 of them? If they have, I think it is rather deceitful. I 
 wonder if they have said anything to Mr. Iglesias? " 
 
 Serena, with the aid of a curling-pin, was controlling 
 the short fuzzy little hairs just at the nape of her neck; 
 and this last wonder proved so absorbing a one that she 
 remained, head bent and fingers aimlessly fiddling with 
 the bars of the curler, till it suddenly occurred to her 
 that she was getting quite stiff. 
 
 " If they have, I think it is very presuming of them," 
 she continued wrathfully, stretching her arms, for they 
 ached " very presuming. How glad I am I was on my 
 guard. I wonder if they saw I was on my guard? I 
 believe George did. I wonder if that helped to make him 
 nervous? " 
 
 Serena fastened in the last of the curlers. There was 
 no excuse for sitting up any longer; yet she lingered. 
 
 " I must be more on my guard than ever," she said. 
 
 Meanwhile Dominic Iglesias, after sitting in the din- 
 mg-ropm with his old friend while the latter smoked a
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 119 
 
 last pipe, made his way across the Green in the deepen- 
 ing mystery of the summer night. The sky was moonless ; 
 and at the zenith, untouched by the upward streaming 
 light of the great city, the stars showed fair and bright. 
 A nostalgia of wide untenanted spaces, of far horizons, 
 of emotions at once intimate and rooted in things eternal, 
 was upon him. But of Serena Lovegrove, it must be 
 admitted, he thought not one little bit.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 ONLY one of the trees from which Cedar Lodge derives 
 its name was still standing. This lonely giant, sombre 
 exile from Libanus, overshadowed all that remained of 
 the formerly extensive garden and sensibly darkened the 
 back of the house. Its foliage, spread like a deep pile 
 carpet upon the wide horizontal branches, was worn and 
 sparse, showing small promise of self-renewal. Yet 
 though starved by the exhausted soil, and clogged by 
 soots from innumerable chimneys, it remained majestic, 
 finely decorative as some tree of metal, of age-old bronze 
 roughened by a greenness of deep-eating rust. From the 
 first moment of his acquaintance with Cedar Lodge it 
 had been to Dominic Iglesias an object of attraction, 
 even of sympathy. For he recognised in it something 
 stoical, an unmoved dignity and lofty indifference to the 
 sordid commonplace of its surroundings. It made no 
 concessions to adverse circumstances, but remained 
 proudly itself, owning for sole comrade the Wind that 
 most mysterious of all created things, unseen, untamed, 
 mateless, incalculable. The wind gave it voice, gave 
 it even a measure of mobility, as it swept through the 
 labyrinth of dry unfruitful branches and awoke a husky 
 music telling of far-distant times and places, making a 
 shuddering and stirring as of the resurgence of long-for- 
 gotten hope and passion. 
 
 When Dominic entered into residence at Cedar Lodge, 
 a pair of stout mauve-brown wood-pigeons migrants 
 from the pleasant elms of Holland Park had haunted 
 the tree. But they being, for all their dolorous coo- 
 ings, birds of a lusty, not to say truculent, habit, grew 
 weary of its persistent solemnity of aspect. So, at least, 
 
 120
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 Dominic judged. He had been an interested spectator 
 of the love-makings, quarrels, and reconciliations of these 
 comely neighbours from his bedroom window daily while 
 dressing. But one fine spring morning he saw them fly 
 away and never saw them fly back again. Clearly they 
 had removed themselves to less solemn quarters, leaving 
 the great tree, save for fugitive visitations from its com- 
 rade 'the wind, to solitary meditation within the borders 
 of its narrow prison-place. 
 
 Besides presenting in itself an object altogether ma- 
 jestical, the cedar performed a practical office whereby 
 it earned Iglesias' gratitude. For its dark interposing 
 bulk effectually shut off the view of an aggressively 
 new rawly red steam laundry, with shiny slate roofs and 
 a huge smoke-belching chimney to it, which, to the con- 
 vulsive disgust of the gentility of the eastern side of 
 Trimmer's Green, had had the unpardonable impertinence 
 to get itself erected in an adjacent street. It followed 
 that when, one wet evening, yellow-headed little Mr. Farge 
 had advised himself to speak slightingly of the cedar tree, 
 Iglesias was prepared to defend it, if necessary, with 
 some warmth. 
 
 The conversation had ranged round the subject of 
 the hour, namely, the possibility as yet in the estima- 
 tion of most persons an incredible one of war with the 
 Boer Republics, when the young man indulged in a play- 
 ful aside addressed to Miss Hart, at whose right hand he 
 was seated. 
 
 " If I could find fault with anything belonging to the 
 lady at the head of the table," he said, " it would be the 
 gloomy old party looking in at these back windows." 
 
 " What, the dear old cedar tree ! Never, Mr. Farge ! " 
 protested Eliza. 
 
 " Yes, it would, though," he insisted, " when, as to- 
 night, it is drip, drip, dripping all over the shop. No
 
 122 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 touch of Sunny Jim about him, is there now, Bert?" 
 this to the devoted Worthington sitting immediately 
 opposite to him on Miss Hart's left. 
 
 " Truly there is not, if I may venture so far," the 
 other young gentleman responded, playing up obediently. 
 " And if anything could give me and Charlie a fit of 
 the blues, I believe that old fellow would in rainy 
 weather." 
 
 " Makes you think of the cemetery, does it not now, 
 Bert?" 
 
 " You have hit it. Paddington not the station 
 though, Charlie, just starting for a cosey little trip with 
 your best girl up the river." 
 
 "For shame, Mr. Worthington," Eliza protested 
 again, giggling. 
 
 " Suggestive of the end of all week-ends, in short," 
 de Courcy Smyth, who contrary to his custom was pres- 
 ent at dinner that evening, put in snarlingly. " One 
 last trip up the River of Death for you, with a ticket 
 marked not transferable, eh, Farge? Then an oblong 
 hole in the reeking blue clay, silence and worms," 
 
 His tone was spiteful to the point of commanding at- 
 tention. A hush fell on the company, broken only by the 
 drifting sob of the rain through the branches of the 
 great cedar. Mr. Farge went perceptibly pale. Mrs. 
 Porcher sighed and turned her fine eyes up to the ceiling. 
 Iglesias looked curiously at the speaker. Eliza Hart was 
 the first to find voice. 
 
 " Pray, Mr. Smyth," she said, " don't be so very un- 
 pleasant. You're enough to give one the goose-skin all 
 over." 
 
 " I am sorry I have offended," he answered sullenly. 
 " But I beg leave to call attention to the fact that I 
 did not start this subject. I was rather interested in 
 the previous discussion, which gave an opportunity of
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 123 
 
 intelligent conversation not habitual among us. Farge 
 is responsible for the interruption, and for the ceme- 
 teries, and consequently for my comment. Still, I am 
 sorry I have offended." 
 
 He shifted his position, glancing uneasily first at his 
 hostess, and then at Dominic Iglesias, who sat opposite 
 him in the place of honour at that lady's right hand. 
 
 "You have not offended, Mr. Smyth," Mrs. Porcher 
 declared graciously. " And no doubt it is well for us 
 all to be reminded of death and burial at times. Though 
 some of us hardly need reminding " again she sighed. 
 " We carry the thought of them about with us al- 
 ways." And she turned her fine eyes languidly upon Mr. 
 Iglesias. 
 
 " My poor sweet Peachie," the kind-hearted Eliza mur- 
 mured, under her breath. 
 
 " But at meals, perhaps, a lighter vein is more suit- 
 able, Mr. Smyth," Mrs. Porcher continued. " At table 
 the thought of death does seem rather disheartening, 
 does it not? But about our poor old cedar tree now, 
 Mr. Farge? You were not seriously proposing to have 
 it removed? " 
 
 " Well, strictly between ourselves, I am really half 
 afraid I actually was." 
 
 " You forget it sheltered my childhood. It is asso- 
 ciated with all my past." 
 
 " Can a rosebud have a past? " Farge cried, coming 
 up to the surface again with a bounce, so to speak. 
 
 Mrs. Porcher smiled, shook her head in graceful re- 
 proof, and turned once more to Dominic. 
 
 " I think we should all like to know how you feel about 
 it, Mr. Iglesias," she said. " Do you wish the poor old 
 tree removed? " 
 
 " On the contrary, I should greatly regret its being 
 ?ut down," he answered. " It would be a loss to me
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 personally, for I have always taken a pleasure both in 
 the sound and the sight of it. But that is a minor 
 consideration." 
 
 "You must allow me to differ from that opinion," 
 Mrs. Porcher remarked, with gentle emphasis. " We 
 can never forget, can we, Eliza, who is our oldest guest? 
 Mr. Iglesias' opinion must ever carry weight in all which 
 concerns Cedar Lodge." 
 
 Here Farge and Worthington made round eyes at one 
 another, while de Courcy Smyth shuffled his feet under 
 the table. He had received a disquieting impression. 
 
 " Oh ! of course, Peachie, dear," Miss Hart responded. 
 She hugged herself with satisfaction. " The darling 
 looks more bonny than ever," she reflected. " To-night 
 what animation! What tact! She seems to have come 
 out so lately, since that Serena Lovegrove has been stop- 
 ping over the way. Not that there could be any rivalry 
 between her and that poor thread-paper of a thing ! " 
 
 Dominic Iglesias, however, received his hostess' pretty 
 speeches with a calm which turned the current of the 
 ardent Eliza's thoughts, causing her to refer, mentally, 
 to the degree of emotion which might be predicated of 
 monuments, mountains, stone elephants, and kindred 
 objects. 
 
 " You are very kind," he said. " But on grounds far 
 more important than those of any private sentiment the 
 cutting down of the cedar calls for careful considera- 
 tion. I am afraid you would find it a serious loss to 
 the beauty of your property. What the house loses in 
 light, it certainly gains in distinction and interest from 
 the presence of the tree." 
 
 " Yes," Mrs. Porcher returned, folding her plump 
 pink hands upon the edge of the table and looking down 
 modestly. " It does speak of family perhaps." 
 
 " And in your case, dear, it speaks nothing more
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 125 
 
 than'the truth," Eliza declared. " Just as well a certain 
 gentleman should reckon with Peachie's real position," 
 she said to herself " specially with that stuck-up Serena 
 Lovegrove cat-and-mousing about on the other side of 
 the Green. It does not take a Solomon to see what she's 
 after!" 
 
 " I am afraid the verdict is given against you, Mr. 
 Farge. The cedar tree will remain." Mrs. Porcher rose 
 as she spoke. 
 
 The young man playfully rubbed his eyes with his 
 knuckles, feigning tears. Then a scrimmage ensued be- 
 tween him and Worthington as to which should reach the 
 dining-room door first and throw it open before the ladies. 
 At this exhibition of high spirits de Courcy Smyth 
 groaned audibly, while Mrs. Porcher, linking her arm 
 within that of Miss Hart, lingered. 
 
 " You will join our little circle in the drawing-room 
 to-night, will you not, Mr. Iglesias ? " she pleaded. 
 
 Again the young men made round eyes at one another. 
 De Courcy Smyth had come forward. He stood close 
 to Iglesias and, before the latter could answer, spoke 
 hurriedly : 
 
 " Can you give me ten minutes in private? I don't 
 want to press myself upon you, but this is imperative." 
 
 Iglesias proceeded to excuse himself to his hostess, 
 thereby causing Miss Hart to refer mentally to monu- 
 ments and mountains once again. 
 
 " Thank you," Smyth gasped. His face was twitching 
 and he swayed a little, steadying himself with one hand 
 on the corner of the dinner-table. 
 
 " I loathe asking," he continued, " I loathe pressing 
 my society upon you, since you do not seek it. It has 
 taken days for me to make up my mind to this; but it 
 is necessary. And, after all, you made the original 
 offer yourself."
 
 126 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 " I am quite ready to listen, and to renew any offer 
 which I may have made," Iglesias answered quietly. 
 
 "We can't talk here, though," Smyth said. "That 
 blundering ass of a waiter will be coming in directly; 
 and whatever he overhears is sure to go the round of the 
 house. All servants are spies." 
 
 " We can go up to my sitting-room and talk there 5 " 
 Iglesias replied. 
 
 Yet he was conscious of making the proposal with re- 
 luctance, pity struggling against repulsion. For not 
 only was the man's appearance very unkempt, but his 
 manner and bearing were eloquent of a certain despera- 
 tion. Of anything approaching physical fear Dominic 
 Iglesias was happily incapable. But his sitting-room 
 had always been a peaceful place, refuge alike from the 
 strain and monotony of his working life. It held relics, 
 moreover, wholly dear to him, and to introduce into it 
 this inharmonious and, in a sense, degraded presence 
 savoured of desecration. Therefore, not without fore- 
 boding, as of one who risks the sacrifice of earnestly 
 cherished security, he ushered his guest into the quiet 
 room. 
 
 The gas, the small heart-shaped flames of which showed 
 white against the dying daylight coming in through the 
 windows, was turned low in the bracket-lamps on either 
 side the high mantelpiece. Dominic Iglesias moved across 
 and drew down the blinds, catching sight as he did so 
 between the tossing foliage of the balsam-poplars which 
 glistened in the driving wet of the unwinking gaselier 
 in the Lovegroves* dining-room, on the other side of the 
 Green. He remembered that he ought to have called 
 on Mrs. Lovegrove and Miss Serena, and that he had been 
 guilty of a lapse of etiquette in not having done so. But 
 he reflected poor Miss Serena was a person whose existence? 
 it seemed so curiously difficult to bear actively in mind.
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 127 
 
 Then/ he grew penitent, as having added discourtesy to 
 discourtesy in permitting himself this reflection. He 
 came back from the window, turned up the lights, drew 
 forward an armchair and motioned Smyth to be seated; 
 fetched a cut-glass spirit decanter, tumblers, and a 
 syphon of soda from the sideboard and set them at his 
 guest's elbow. 
 
 " Pray help yourself," he said. " And here, will you 
 not smoke while we talk? " 
 
 Smyth's pale, prominent eyes had followed these prep- 
 arations for his comfort with avidity, but now, the hand- 
 some character of his surroundings being fully disclosed 
 to him, he was filled with uncontrollable envy. Silently 
 he filled his glass, by no means stinting the amount of 
 alcohol, gulped down half the contents of the tumbler, 
 paused a moment, leaning his elbow on the table, and 
 said: 
 
 " We were treated to a public exhibition of feminine 
 cajolery in your direction, Mr. Iglesias, at the end of 
 dinner. It occurs to me we might have been spared 
 that. I have never had the honour of penetrating into 
 your apartments before; but the aspect of them is quite 
 sufficient indication as to who is the favoured member 
 of Mrs. Porcher's establishment." 
 
 Dominic had remained standing. Hospitality de- 
 manded that he should do all in his power to secure his 
 guest's material comfort; but there, in his opinion, im- 
 mediate obligation ceased. In thus remaining standing 
 he had a quaint sense of safeguarding the sanctities of 
 the place. The man's tone was curiously offensive. In- 
 voluntarily Mr. Iglesias' back stiffened a little. 
 
 " I took these rooms unfurnished," he said. And theiv 
 added : " May I ask what your business with me may 
 be? " 
 
 Smyth had recourse to his tumbler again. His hand
 
 128 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 shook so that his teeth chattered against the edge of the 
 glass. 
 
 " I am a fool," he said sullenly. " But my nerves are 
 all to pieces. I cannot control myself. I have come here 
 to ask a favour of you, and yet some devil prompts me 
 to insult you. I hate you because I am driven to make 
 use of you. And this room, in its sober luxury, empha- 
 sises the indignity of the position, offering as it does 
 so glaring a contrast to my own quarters here under 
 the same roof, only one flight of stairs above that I can 
 hardly endure it. Life is hideously unjust. For what 
 have you done you, a mere Canaanite, hewer of wood 
 and drawer of water to some grossly Philistine firm of 
 city bankers to deserve this immunity from anxiety and 
 distress ; while I, with my superior culture, my ambition 
 and talents, am condemned to that beastly squeaking 
 wire-wove mattress upstairs, and a job-lot of furniture 
 which some previous German waiter has ejected in dis- 
 gust from his bedroom in the basement? But there I 
 t> e g your pardon. I ought to be accustomed to injustice. 
 I have served a long enough apprenticeship to it. Only 
 partly, thanks to you, I own that I have seemed to 
 see the dawning of hope again hope of success, hope 
 of recognition, hope of revenge; and just on that ac- 
 count it becomes intolerable to run one's head against 
 this paralysing, stultifying dead wall of poverty and 
 debt." He bowed himself together, and his voice broke. 
 " I owe Mrs. Porcher money for my miserable bed- 
 sitting-room and my board, and I am so horribly afraid 
 she will turn me out. The place is detestable ; unworthy 
 of me of course it is but I am accustomed to it. And 
 I am not myself. I am terrified at the prospect of any 
 change. In short, I am worn out. And they see that, 
 those beasts of editors. The Evening Daily Bulletin has 
 given me my conge. I have lost the last of my hack-
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 129 
 
 work. It was miserable work, wholly beneath a man of 
 my capacity ; still it brought me in a pittance. Now it 
 is gone. Practically I am a pauper, and I owe money 
 in this house." 
 
 " I am sorry, very sorry," Iglesias said. " You should 
 have spoken sooner. I could not force myself into your 
 confidence ; but, believe me, I have not been unmindful of 
 my Engagement. I have merely waited for you to speak." 
 
 His manner was gentle, yet he remained standing, still 
 possessed by an instinct to thus safeguard the sanctities 
 of the place. He paused, giving the other man time 
 to recover a measure of composure: then he asked kindly, 
 anxious to conduct the conversation into a happier chan- 
 nel: "Meanwhile, how is the play advancing? Well, 
 I hope so that you find solace and satisfaction in the 
 prosecution of it." 
 
 Smyth moved uneasily, looking up furtively at his ques- 
 tioner. 
 
 " Oh ! it is grand," he said, "unquestionably it is grand. 
 You need have no anxiety under that head. Pray un- 
 derstand that anything that you may do for me in the 
 interim, before the play is produced, is simply an in- 
 vestment. You need not be in the least alarmed. You 
 will see all your money back see it doubled, certainly 
 doubled, probably trebled." 
 
 " I was not thinking of investments," Iglesias put in 
 quietly. 
 
 " But I am," Smyth asserted. " Naturally I am. You 
 do not suppose that I should accept, still less ask, your 
 help, unless I was certain that in the end I should prove 
 to be conferring, rather than incurring, a favour? You 
 humiliate me by assuming this attitude of disinterested 
 generosity. Let me warn you it does not ring true. 
 Moreover, in assuming it you do not treat me as an 
 equal; and that I resent. It is mean to take advantage
 
 130 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 of my sorrows and my poverty, and exalt yourself thus 
 at my expense. Of course I understand your point of 
 view. From your associations and occupations you must 
 inevitably worship the god of wealth. One cannot ex- 
 pect anything else from a business man. You gauge 
 every one's intellectual capacity by his power of making 
 money. Well, wait then just wait; and when that play 
 appears, see if I do not compel you to rate my intellectual 
 capacity very highly. For there are thousands in that 
 play, I tell you tens of thousands. It is only in the 
 interim that I am reduced to this detestable position of 
 dependence. I know the worth of my work, if " 
 
 But Iglesias' patience was beginning to wear rather 
 thin. He interposed calmly, yet with authority. 
 
 " Pardon me," he said, " but it is irrelevant to discuss 
 my attitude of mind or my past occupations. It will be 
 more agreeable for us, both now and in the future, to 
 treat any matters that arise between us as impersonally 
 as possible. Therefore, I will ask you to tell me, simply 
 and clearly, how much you require to clear you from im- 
 mediate difficulty; and I will tell you, in return, whether 
 I am in a position to meet your wishes or not." 
 
 For a moment Smyth sat silent, his hands working 
 nervously along the arms of the chair. 
 
 " You understand it is merely a temporary accommo- 
 dation? " 
 
 " Yes," Iglesias answered. " I understand. And con- 
 sequently it is superfluous to indulge in further discus- 
 sion." 
 
 " You want to get rid of me," Smyth snarled. " Every- 
 one wants to get rid of me ; I am unwelcome. The poor 
 and unsuccessful always are so, I suppose. But some day 
 the tables will be turned if I can only last." 
 
 And Dominic Iglesias found himself called upon to 
 rally all his humanity, all his faith in merciful dealing
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 131 
 
 and ''the reward which goes along with it. For it was 
 hard to give, hard to befriend, so thankless and ungra- 
 cious a being. Yet, having put his hand to the plough, 
 he refused to look back. He had inherited a strain of 
 fanaticism which took the form of unswerving loyalty 
 to his own word once given. So he spoke gravely .and 
 kindly, as one speaks to the sick who are beyond the 
 obligation of showing courtesy for very suffering. And 
 truly, as he reminded himself, this man was grievously 
 sick ; not only physically from insufficient food, but mor- 
 ally from disappointment and that most fruitful source of 
 disease, inordinate and unsatisfied vanity. 
 
 " I do not wish to get rid of you ; I merely wish to take 
 the shortest and simplest way to relieve you of your 
 more pressing anxieties, and so enable you to give your- 
 self unreservedly to your work. Want may be a whole- 
 some spur to effort at times ; but it is difficult to sup- 
 pose any really sane and well-proportioned work of art 
 can be produced without a sense of security and of 
 leisure." 
 
 " How do you come to know that? It is not your 
 province," Smyth said sharply. 
 
 Mr. Iglesias permitted himself to smile and raise his 
 shoulders slightly. 
 
 " I come of a race which, in the past, has given evi- 
 dence of no small literary and artistic ability. The ex- 
 perience of former generations affects the thought of 
 their descendants, I imagine, and illuminates it, even when 
 these are not gifted individually with any executive 
 talent." 
 
 For some minutes Smyth sat staring moodily in front 
 of him. At last he rose slowly from his chair. 
 
 " I am an ass," he said, " a jealous, suspicious, ungrate- 
 ful ass. It is more than ever hateful to me to ask a 
 favour of you, just because you are forbearing and gen-
 
 132 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 erous. I wish to goodness I could do without your help; 
 but I can't. So let me have twenty-five pounds. Less 
 would not be of use to me. I should only have to draw 
 on you again, and I do not care to do that. Look here, 
 can I have it in notes ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Mr. Iglesias. 
 
 " I prefer it so. There might have been difficulties in 
 cashing a cheque. Moreover, it is unpleasant to me that 
 your name, that any name, should appear. It is only 
 fair to save my self-respect as far as you can." 
 
 Then, as Dominic put the notes into his hand, he added, 
 and his voice was aggressive again and quarrelsome in 
 tone : " I don't apologise. I don't explain. I do not 
 even thank you. Why should I, since I simply take it 
 as a temporary accommodation until my play is finished 
 my great play, which is going I swear before God 
 it is going not only to cancel this paltry debt, but a 
 far more important one, the debt I owe to my< own genius, 
 and justify me once and forever in the eyes of the whole 
 English-speaking world." 
 
 With that he shambled out of the room, letting the 
 handle of the door slip so that it banged noisily behind 
 him. 
 
 For a while Dominic Iglesias remained standing before 
 the fireplace. He was sad at heart. He had given gen- 
 erously, lavishly, out of proportion, as most persons 
 reckon charitable giving, \o his means. But, though 
 the act was in itself good, he was sensible of no responsive 
 warmth, no glow of satisfaction. The transaction left 
 him cold; left him, indeed, a prey to disgust. Not only 
 were the man's faults evident, but they were of so un- 
 pleasant a nature as to neutralise all gladness in reliev- 
 ing his distress. Mechanically Iglesias straightened the 
 chair which his guest had so lately occupied, put away 
 tumbler and spirit decanter, pulled up the blind and
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 133 
 
 opefied one of the tall narrow windows, set the door giv- 
 ing access to his bed-chamber wide, and opened a window 
 there, too, so creating a draught right through the apart- 
 ment from end to end. He desired to clean it both of 
 a physical and a moral atmosphere which were displeasing 
 to him. And, in so doing, he let in, not only the roar of 
 London, borne in a fierce crescendo on the breath of the 
 wind, but a strange multitudinous rustling from the som- 
 bre foliage and stiff branches of the lonely cedar tree. 
 Two limbs, crossing, sawed upon each other as the wind 
 took them, uttering at intervals a long-drawn complaint 
 not weakly, but rather with virility, as of a strong man 
 chained and groaning against his fetters. 
 
 The sound affected Dominic Iglesias deeply, begetting 
 in him an almost hopeless sense of isolation. The vapid 
 talk at dinner, poor little Mrs. Porcher's misplaced ad- 
 vances the fact of which it appeared to him equally 
 idle to deny and fatuous to admit the dreary scene with 
 his unhappy fellow-lodger, the good deed done which just 
 now appeared fruitless all these contributed to make 
 the complaint of the exiled cedar's tormented branches 
 an echo of the complaint of his own heart. For a long 
 while he listened to these voices of the night, the great 
 city, the great tree, the wind and the wet ; and listening, 
 by degrees he rallied his patience in that he humbled 
 himself. 
 
 " After all, I have been little else but self-seeking," 
 he said, half aloud. " For I gave not to the man, but 
 to myself. I clutched at a personal reward, if not of 
 spoken gratitude yet of subjective content. It has not 
 come. I suppose I did not deserve it." 
 
 And then, somehow, his thoughts turned to that other 
 human creature who, though in a very different fashion 
 to de Courcy Smyth the unsavoury, had claimed his help. 
 He thought not of her over-red lips, but of her wise
 
 134 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 eyes; not of her Irrepressible effervescence and patter, 
 but of her serious moments and of the honesty and 
 courage which at such moments appeared to animate her. 
 About a fortnight ago he had called at the little flower- 
 bedecked house on the confines of Barnes Common, but 
 had obtained no response to his ringing. He supposed 
 she was engaged, or possibly away. With a certain proud 
 modesty he had abstained from renewing his visit. But 
 now, listening to the roar of London and the complaint 
 of the cedar tree, he turned to the thought of her as to 
 something of promise, of possible comfort, of equal 
 friendship, in which there should be not only help given, 
 but help received.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 DOMINIC IGLESIAS stood on Hammersmith Bridge looking 
 upstream. The temperature was low for the time of 
 year, the sky packed with heavy-bosomed indigo-grey 
 clouds in the south and west, whence came a gusty wind 
 chill with impending rain. The light was diffused and 
 cold, all objects having a certain bareness of effect, defi- 
 cient in shadow. The weather had broken in the storm 
 of the preceding night; and, though it was but early 
 September, summer was gone, autumn and the melancholy 
 of it already present witness the elms in Chiswick Mall 
 splotched with raw umber and faded yellow. The tide had 
 still about an hour to flow. The river was dull and leaden, 
 save where, near Chiswick Eyot, the wind meeting the tide 
 lashed the surface of it into mimic waves, the crests of 
 which, flung upward, showed against the gloomy stretch 
 of water beyond, like pale hands raised heavenward in 
 despairing protest. Steam-tugs, taking advantage of the 
 tide, laboured up-stream in the teeth of the wind, towing 
 processions of dark floats and barges. Long banners of 
 smoke, ragged and fleeting, swept wildly away from the 
 mouths of the tall chimneys of Thorneycroft's Works, 
 which rose black into the low, wet sky. The roadway of 
 the huge suspension bridge quivered under the grind of 
 the ceaseless traffic, while the wind cried in the massive 
 pea-green painted iron-gearing above. There was a sense 
 of hardly restrained tumult, of conflict between nature 
 and the multiple machinery of modern civilisation, the 
 two in opposition, alike victims of an angry mood. And 
 Iglesias stood watching that conflict among the crowd of 
 children, and loafers, and decrepit, who to-day as every 
 day thronged the foot-way of the bridge. 
 
 135
 
 136 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 Poppy St. John stood on the foot-way, too. She had 
 crossed from the southern side. But, though by no means 
 insensible to the spirit or the details of the scene around 
 her, she was less engaged in watching the drama of the 
 stormy afternoon than in watching Dominic Iglesias 
 as yet unconscious of her presence. His tall, spare, 
 shapely figure, grave, clean-shaven face, and calm, self- 
 recollected manner which removed him so singularly 
 from the purposeless neutral-tinted human beings close 
 about him delighted her artistic sense. 
 
 " If one had caught him young," she said to herself, 
 " if one had only caught him young, heavenly powers, 
 what a time one might have had, and yet stayed good 
 oh ! very quite good indeed ! " 
 
 Then she made her way between much undeveloped and 
 derelict humanity. 
 
 " Look at me, dear man," she said, " look at me 
 really I am worth it. I got home late last night and I 
 was possessed by a great longing to see you. Excuse my 
 shouting, but things in general are making such an infer- 
 nal clatter. I was determined to see you. I set my whole 
 mind to making you come. And I felt so sure you must 
 come that this afternoon I have journeyed thus far to 
 meet you. And here you are, and here I am." 
 
 Poppy stood before him bracing her back against the 
 hand-rail of the bridge. 
 
 " Tell me, are you glad? " she said. 
 
 And Dominic Iglesias, surprised, yet finding the inci- 
 dent curiously natural, answered simply:- 
 
 " Yes, I am, very glad." 
 
 "That's all right," she rejoined; "because, after all, 
 coming was a pretty lively act of faith on my part. I 
 have superstitious turns at times; and the weather, and 
 things that had happened, had made me feel pretty cheap 
 somehow. I don't mind telling you as you are here that
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 137 
 
 if y6u'd failed me there would have been the devil to pay. 
 I should have been awfully cut up." 
 
 Iglesias still smiled upon her. Poppy presented her- 
 self under a new aspect to-day, and that aspect found 
 favour in his sight. She was no longer the Lady of the 
 Windswept Dust, arrayed in fantastic flowery hat and 
 trailing skirts, but was clothed in trim black workman- 
 like garments, which revealed the delicate contours of her 
 figure and gave her an unexpected air of distinction. Yet, 
 though charmed, the caution of pride which, in his case, 
 was also the caution of modesty made him a trifle shy 
 in addressing her. He paused before speaking, and then 
 said, with a certain hesitancy: 
 
 " I fancy my attitude of mind last night was the com- 
 plement of your own. I, too, had fallen on rather evil 
 days. I wanted to see you. I came out this afternoon 
 to find you. If I had failed to do so, it would have gone 
 a little hard with me, too, I think." 
 
 Poppy looked at him questioningly, intently, for a 
 minute, her teeth set. Then she whirled round, leaned her 
 elbows on the hand-rail, pulled her handkerchief out of 
 the breast pocket of her smartly fitting coat and dabbed 
 her eyes with it, finely indifferent to possible comment or 
 observation. 
 
 Iglesias remained immediately behind her, but a little 
 to the right, so as to save her from being jostled by the 
 passers-by. He had a sense of being only the more alone 
 with her because of the traffic and the crowd; a sense, 
 moreover, of dependence on her part and protection on 
 his ; a sense, in a way, of her belonging to him and he to 
 her. And this was very sweet to him, solemnly sweet, as 
 are all things of beauty and moment holding in them 
 the promise of enduring result. Old Age ceased to 
 threaten and Loneliness to haunt. Over Iglesias' soul 
 passed a wave of thankful content.
 
 Suddenly Poppy straightened herself up and faced 
 him. Her lips laughed, but her eyes were wet. 
 
 " I'll play fair," she said ; " by the honour of the 
 mother that bore you, I'll play fair." 
 
 Then she laid her hand on his arm and pointed London- 
 wards. 
 
 " Now, come along, dear man, for I have got to pull 
 myself together somehow. Let us walk. Take me some- 
 where I've never been before, somewhere quiet only let 
 MS walk." 
 
 Therefore, desiring to meet her wishes, a little way 
 up the broad straggling street Dominic Iglesias turned 
 off to the left into the narrow old-world lanes and alleys 
 which lie between the river frontage and King Street 
 West. The district is a singular one, suggestive of some 
 sleepy little dead-alive seaport town rather than of Lon- 
 don. Quaint water-ways, crossed by foot-bridges, burrow 
 in between small low cottages and warehouses. Some of 
 these have overhanging upper stories to them, are half- 
 timbered or yellow-washed. Some are built wholly of 
 wood. There is an all-pervading odour of tar and 
 hempen rope. Small industries abound, though without 
 any self-advertisement of plate-glass shop fronts. Chim- 
 ney-sweeps and cobblers give notice of their presence by 
 swinging signs. Newsvenders make irruption of flaring 
 boards upon the pavement. Little ground-floor windows 
 exhibit attenuated stores of tinware, string, and sweets. 
 Modest tobacconists mount the image of a black boy 
 scantily clothed or of a Highlander in the fullest of tar- 
 tans above their doors. Cats prowl along walls and 
 sparrows rise in flights from off the ill-paved roadways. 
 But of human occupants there appear to be but few, and 
 those with an unusual stamp of individuality upon them; 
 figures a trifle strange and obsolete as of persons by 
 choice hidden away, voluntarily self-removed from the
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 139 
 
 levelling rush and grind of the monster city. The small 
 heavy-browed houses are very secretive, seeming to shel- 
 ter fallen fortunes, obscure and furtive sins, sorrows which 
 resist alleviation and inquiry. Seen, as to-day, under the 
 low-hanging sky big with rain, in the diffused afternoon 
 light, the place and its inhabitants conveyed an impression 
 low-toned, yet distinct, finished in detail, rich though 
 mournful in effect as some eighteenth-century Dutch pic- 
 ture. A linnet twittered, flitting from perch to perch of 
 its cage at an open window. A boy, clad in an old mouse- 
 brown corduroy coat, passed slowly, crying " Sweet 
 lavender " shrilly yet in a plaintive cadence. Occasionally 
 the siren of a steam-tug tore the air with a long-drawn 
 wavering scream. Otherwise all was very silent. 
 
 And, as they threaded their way through the maze of 
 crooked streets, Dominic Iglesias and Poppy St. John 
 were silent also; but with the silence of intimacy and 
 good faith, rather than with that of embarrassment or 
 indifference. Each was very fully aware of the presence 
 of the other. So fully aware, indeed, that, for the 
 moment, speech seemed superfluous as a vehicle for inter- 
 change of thought. Then, as they emerged on to the 
 open gravelled space of the Upper Mall with its low red- 
 brick wall and stately elm trees, Poppy held out her hand 
 to Mr. Iglesias. 
 
 " You are beautifully clever," she said. " You give 
 me just what I wanted. I'm as steady as old Time now. 
 But what a queer rabbit-warren of a place it is! How 
 did you find your way? " 
 
 " I came here often, in the past," he said, " at a time 
 when I was suffering grave anxiety. I could not leave 
 home, after my office work was over, for more than an 
 hour together. And in the dusk or at night, with its 
 twinkling and evasive lights, the place used to please me, 
 leading as it does to the river bank, the mystery of the
 
 140 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 ebbing and flowing tide, the ceaseless effort seaward of 
 the stream, and those low-lying spaces on the Surrey side. 
 It was the nearest bit of nature, unharnessed, irresponsi- 
 ble nature, which I could get to ; and it symbolised emanci- 
 pation from monotonous labour and everlasting bricks 
 and mortar. I could watch the dying of the sunset, and 
 the outcoming of the stars, the tossing of the pale willows 
 there on the eyot in the windy dusk, undisturbed. 
 And so I have come to entertain a great fondness for it, 
 since it tranquillised me and helped me to see life calmly 
 and to bring myself in line with fact, to endure and to 
 forgive." 
 
 While he spoke Poppy's hand continued to rest pas- 
 sively in his. 
 
 " You are a poet," she said, " and you are very good." 
 
 Dominic Iglesias smiled and shook his head. 
 
 " No," he answered. " I am neither a poet nor am 
 I very good. Far from that. I only tried to keep faith 
 with the one clear duty which I saw." 
 
 Poppy moved forward across the Mall and stood by 
 the river wall, looking out over the flowing tide. It was 
 high now, and washed and gurgled against the masonry. 
 
 " You did and suffered all that for some woman," she 
 said. " A man like you always breaks himself for some 
 woman. I hope she was worth it often they aren't. 
 Who was she? The woman you loved? Your wife?" 
 
 " The woman I loved," Iglesias answered, " but not 
 my wife." 
 
 Poppy looked at him sharply, her eyes full of question 
 and of fear, as though she dreaded to hear very evil 
 tidings. 
 
 " Not your mistress? " she said. " Don't tell me that. 
 The Lord knows I've no right to mind. But I should 
 mind. It would be like switching off all the lights. I 
 couldn't stand it. So, if it's that, just let us part com-
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 141 
 
 pany at once. I've no more use for you. I know where 
 I am now. If I go up into St. Peter's Square I can 
 pick up a hansom and drive back home I suppose I 
 may as well call it home, as I have no other. And as 
 for you, if you've any mercy in you, never let me see you 
 again. Never come near me. I have no use for you, I 
 tell you. So leave me to my own devices what those 
 devices are is no earthly concern of yours." 
 
 She paused breathless, her eyes blazing, her face very 
 white. She seemed to have grown tall, and there was a 
 tremendous force in her of bitterness, repudiation, and 
 regret. 
 
 " After all," she cried, " I don't so much as know your 
 name; and so, thank heaven, it can't be so very difficult 
 to forget you." 
 
 Her aspect moved Iglesias strangely, seeming as it did 
 to embody the very spirit of the angry sky, of the gloomy 
 river, all the sorrow of the dead summer and stormy 
 autumn light. For a moment he watched her in silence. 
 Then he took both her hands in his and held them, smiling 
 at her again very gently. 
 
 " No, dear friend," he said, " the woman was not my 
 mistress. She was my mother." His voice shook a little. 
 " I never talk of her. But I think of her always. She 
 was very perfect and very lovely. And she suffered 
 greatly, so greatly that it unhinged her reason. Now do 
 you understand? For years she was mad."
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 IN the month of October immediately following two 
 events took place which, though of apparently very differ- 
 ent magnitude and importance, intimately and almost 
 equally as it proved in the sequel affected Dominic 
 Iglesias' life. The first was the declaration of war by 
 the South African Republics. The second was the return 
 of Miss Serena Lovegrove to town. 
 
 Now war is, unquestionably, not a little staggering to 
 the modern civilised conscience; and this particular war 
 possessed the additional unpleasantness of having in it, 
 at first sight, an element of the grotesque. It is not too 
 much to say that it struck the majority of the British 
 public as being of the nature of a very bad joke. For 
 it was as though a very small and very cheeky boy, after 
 making offensive signs, had spat in the nation's face. 
 Clearly the boy deserved sharp chastisement for his im- 
 pudence. Nevertheless, the position remained an undigni- 
 fied and slightly ridiculous one; and the British public 
 proceeded to safeguard its proper pride by treating the 
 matter as lightly as possible. It assured itself and 
 others that, given a reasonable parade of strength, the 
 small boy, blubbering, his fists in his eyes, would speedily 
 and humbly beg pardon and promise to mind his manners 
 in future. A few persons, it is true, remembered Majuba 
 Hill, and doubted the small boy's immediate reduction 
 to obedience. A few others dared to suspect that English 
 society was suffering from wealth apoplexy and the many 
 unlovely symptoms which, in all ages of history, have 
 accompanied that form of seizure, and to doubt whether 
 blood-letting might not prove salutary. Dominic Igle- 
 eias was among these. His recent observations upon 
 
 142
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 14$ 
 
 and/ excursions into the world of fashion, stray words let 
 drop by Poppy St. John on the one hand, and by unhappy 
 de Courcy Smyth on the other, had begotten in him the 
 suspicion that the sobering and sorrowful influences of 
 war might be healthful for the body politic, just as a 
 surgical operation may be healthful for the individual 
 body. Next to the Jew, the Dutchman is the most stub- 
 bornly tenacious of human creatures. He is a fighting 
 man into the bargain. Iglesias could not flatter himself 
 that the campaign would result in an easy walk-over for 
 so much of the British army as a supine and annoyed 
 Government condescended to place in the field. The whole 
 affair lay heavy on his soul. It lay there all the heavier 
 that a few days subsequent to the declaration of war Mr. 
 Iglesias' thought was unexpectedly swept back into the 
 arena of speculative finance. 
 
 In the portion of his morning paper allotted to busi- 
 ness subjects, he had lighted on a long and evidently 
 inspired article dealing with the flotation of a company 
 just now in process of acquiring control over extensive 
 areas in Southeast Africa. The prospects held out to 
 investors were of the most golden sort. The land was 
 declared to be not only remarkably rich in precious stones 
 and precious metals, but also adapted for corn-growing 
 on a vast scale thus, both above and below the surface, 
 promising prodigious wealth were its resources adequately 
 developed. 
 
 Iglesias did not dispute the truth of these state- 
 ments. The data quoted appeared trustworthy enough. 
 Moreover, he was already fairly conversant with the 
 enterprise, since Mr. Reginald Barking that junior 
 member of the great banking firm whose name has been 
 mentioned in connection with strenuous modern business 
 methods was, to his knowledge, deeply interested in the 
 promotion of it. That which troubled him, striking him
 
 144 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 as unsound and misleading, was the fact that the profits, 
 as set forth in the newspaper article, were calculated so 
 at least it was evident to Iglesias on the results of such 
 development when completed, irrespective of the lapse of 
 time required for such development; irrespective of pos- 
 sible and arresting accident; irrespective, too, of immedi- 
 ate and even protracted loss by the tying-up of huge sums 
 of money which could yield but little or no return until 
 the said process of development was an accomplished fact. 
 To Iglesias' clear-seeing and logical mind the enterprise, 
 therefore, presented itself as one of those gigantic modern 
 gambles of which the incidental risks are emphatically too 
 heavy, since they more often than not make rich men 
 poor, and poor men paupers, before they come through 
 if, indeed, they even come through at all. 
 
 Reginald, in virtue of his youth, his energy, and relent- 
 less concentration of purpose, had rapidly become the 
 ruling spirit of the house of Barking Brothers & Barking. 
 Iglesias had no cause to love him, since to him he owed 
 his dismissal. But that fact failed to colour his present 
 meditations. Under the influence of his cherished and 
 new-found charity, Dominic had little time or inclination 
 for personal resentment. Too, the habits of the best part 
 of a lifetime cannot be thrown aside in a day. Directly he 
 touched business on the large scale, it became to him 
 serious and imposing. And so the future of the firm and 
 the issue of its operations, in face of current events, con- 
 cerned him deeply, all the more that he gauged Reginald 
 Barking's temper of mind and proclivities. 
 
 The young man's father now happily deceased had 
 offered an instructive example of social and religious 
 survival survival, to be explicit, of the once famous Clap- 
 ham Sect, and that in its least agreeable aspect. His 
 theology was that of obstinately narrow misinterpreta- 
 tion of the Scriptures; his piety that of self -invented
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 145 
 
 obligations ; his virtue that of unsparing condemnation of 
 the sins of others. His domestic morality was Hebraic 
 death kindly playing into his hands in regard of it. He 
 married four times Reginald, the only child of his 
 fourth marriage, having the further privilege of being 
 his only son. The boy was delicate and of a strumous 
 habit. This fact, combined with his parents' ingrained 
 conviction that a public school is synonymous, morally 
 speaking, with a common sewer, caused his education to 
 be conducted at home by a series of tutors as undistin- 
 guished by birth as by scholarship tentative apologetic 
 young men, the goal of whose ambitions was a wife and 
 a curacy, failing which they resigned themselves to the 
 post of usher in some ultra-Protestant school. Sport in 
 all its forms, art and literature, being alike forbidden, the 
 boy's hungry energy had found no reasonable outlet. He 
 had been miserable, peevish, ailing, until at barely 
 eighteen after a discreditable episode with a scullery- 
 maid he had been shipped off to New York to learn 
 business in the house of certain brokers and bill-discount- 
 ers with whom Messrs. Barking Brothers had extensive 
 financial relations. Life in the land of the Puritans was 
 not, even at that time of day, inevitably immaculate. 
 Freedom from parental supervision and the American 
 climate went to the lad's head. He passed through a 
 phase of commonplace but secret vice, emerging there- 
 from with an unblemished social reputation; a blank 
 scepticism in matters religious, combined with bitter 
 animosity against the Deity, whom he declared non-exist- 
 ent; and a fiercely driving ambition, not so much for 
 wealth in itself, as for that control over the destinies of 
 men, and even of nations, with which wealth under modern 
 conditions endows its possessor. He was a pale, dry, 
 lizard-like young man, suggesting light without heat, 
 and excitement without emotion. Early in his career he
 
 146 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 recognised that the great sources of wealth and power 
 lie with the younger countries, in the development of their 
 natural and industrial resources, of their railways and 
 other forms of transport. The phenomenal advance of 
 America, for example, was due to her enormous territory 
 and the opportunities of expansion, within the bounds of 
 nationality, which this afforded her people. But he also 
 recognised that America was essentially for the Ameri- 
 cans, and that it was useless for an outsider, however 
 skilful, however even unscrupulous, to pit his business 
 capacity against that of the native born. His dreams 
 of power and speculative activity directed themselves, 
 consequently, to the British Colonies, and to those as yet 
 unappropriated spaces of the earth's surface where British 
 influence is still only tentatively present. 
 
 Meanwhile he had espoused Miss Nancy Van Reenan, 
 daughter of a famous transatlantic merchant prince, first 
 cousin, it may be added, to the beautiful Virginia Van 
 Reenan whose marriage with Lawrence Rivers, of Stoke 
 Rivers in the county of Sussex, so fluttered the smartest 
 section of New York society a few years ago. He re- 
 turned to England in the spring of 1897, convinced that 
 America had taught him, commercially speaking, all there 
 was to know. This knowledge he prepared to apply to 
 waking up the venerable establishment in Threadneedle 
 Street, while employing the unimpeachable respectability 
 and solvency of the said establishment as a lever towards 
 the realisation of his own far-reaching ambitions. He 
 brought with him from the United States, in addition to 
 his elegant wife, two dry, pale children, whose contours 
 were less Raphaelesque than gnat-like, and the acuteness 
 of whose critical faculty was very much more in evidence 
 than that of their affections. These bright little results 
 of modernity and applied science in the shape of the 
 incubator took their place in the social movement, at
 
 147 
 
 the ages of three and five respectively, with the hard and 
 chilling assurance of a world-weary man and woman. 
 They never exhibited surprise. They rarely exhibited 
 amusement. They were radically disillusioned. They 
 frequently referred to their nerves and their digestions, 
 in the interests of which they consistently repudiated 
 every form of excess. 
 
 With these rather terrible little gentry Dominic Iglesias 
 was, happily for himself, unacquainted; but with their 
 father he was very well acquainted, as has already been 
 stated. Hence his fears. Folding his newspaper to- 
 gether, he laid it on the table and proceeded to walk 
 meditatively up and down his sitting-room. The morning 
 was keen with sunshine, the leaves of the planes and 
 balsam-poplars fell in brown and yellow showers upon 
 the Green, on the further side of which the details of the 
 red and yellowish grey houses stood out in high relief of 
 sharp-edged light and shadow. Mr. Iglesias had risen in 
 a hopeful frame of mind. Of late it had become his 
 habit to call weekly on Poppy St. John. To-day was the 
 one appointed for his visit. Since he had spoken to her 
 about his mother his friendship with Poppy St. John had 
 entered upon a new phase. It was no longer experi- 
 mental, but absolute, the more so that she had in no way 
 presumed upon his confidence. He felt very safe with 
 her safe to tell or safe to withhold as inclination should 
 move him. And in this there was a strange and delicate 
 lessening of the burden of his loneliness, without any 
 encroachment on his pride. He had found, moreover, that 
 behind her patter lay an unexpected acquaintance with 
 public affairs and the tendencies of current events, so that 
 it was possible to talk on subjects other than personal 
 with her. He was coming to have much faith in her judg- 
 ment as well as in her sincerity of heart. And, so, with 
 the prospect of seeing her before him, Dominic had risen
 
 148 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 in the happiest disposition, had so remained till the news- 
 paper article disturbed his mind. For what, as he asked 
 himself, did it portend, this extravagant puff of the 
 company's land and the company's prospects, at this par- 
 ticular juncture? Why was it so urgently and eloquently 
 forced upon the market just now? Was it but another 
 proof of the contemptuous attitude adopted by English- 
 men of all classes towards the Boer Republics? Or did 
 it take its origin very much elsewhere namely, in the 
 fact that Reginald Barking had so deeply involved the 
 capital and pledged the credit of the firm that it became 
 necessary to make violent and doubtfully honest bid for 
 popular support before the position of the said firm, 
 through difficulty and accident induced by war, became 
 desperate ? 
 
 This last solution of the perplexing question aroused 
 all Mr. Iglesias' loyalty towards his old employers. He 
 saw before them the ugly possibility of failure and dis- 
 grace. The mere phantom of the thing hurt him as 
 unseemly, as a shame and dishonour to those who in their 
 corporate capacity had benefited him, and therefore as 
 a shame and dishonour, at least indirectly, to himself. 
 The thought agitated him. He needed to take counsel 
 with someone; and so, pushed by a necessity of immediate 
 action uncommon to him, he laid hands on hat and coat 
 and set forth to talk matters over with his old friend 
 and former colleague, George Lovegrove. 
 
 Out of doors the air was stimulating. The voice of 
 London had a tone of urgency in it, as the voice of the 
 young and strong who court the coming of stirring events. 
 
 ' The moods of the monstrous mother are inexhaust- 
 ible," Iglesias said to himself. " She is changeful as the 
 great ocean. To-day she is virile, and shouts for battle 
 well, it may be she will get her fill of that before many 
 months are out ! "
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 149 
 
 Then the thought of his afternoon visit returned upon 
 him. If the air would remain as exhilarating, the sun- 
 shine as daring as now, these would heighten enjoy- 
 ment. 
 
 Mr. Iglesias smiled to himself, an emotion of tenderness 
 mingling with his anxiety. He felt very much alive, very 
 ready to meet any demand which the future might make 
 on him battle for him, too, perhaps, and at this moment 
 he ' welcomed the thought of it ! Thus, a little exalted 
 in spirit, Dominic walked on rapidly across the Green 
 between the iron railings, conscious of colour, of light, and 
 of sound; but unobservant of the details of his immediate 
 surroundings, until a drifting female figure barred his 
 path, undulating uncertainly before him. He moved to 
 the right to let it pass. It moved to the right also. He 
 moved to the left, it did so, too. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," he said. 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Serena Lovegrove. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," Iglesias repeated, raising his 
 hat. " Excuse me, I did not see who it was." 
 
 " How very odd ! " Serena remarked. She stood still 
 in the middle of the path. Her eyes snapped. Her silk 
 petticoat rustled. Serena was very particular about her 
 petticoats. It gave her great moral and social support 
 to hear them rustle. " How very odd ! " she said again. 
 " Did you not know that I had come back? " 
 
 Dominic might truthfully have replied that he did not 
 know that she had ever gone away; but he abstained. 
 
 " It must be a great pleasure to your cousins to have 
 you with them," he said courteously. 
 
 Serena looked at the falling leaves. 
 
 " I wonder whether it is I mean I wonder whether it 
 is a pleasure to them, or whether they ask me out of a 
 sense of duty." She paused, gazing at Mr. Iglesias. " Of 
 course, I know George has a strong regard for me, and
 
 150 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 for Susan. It is only natural, as we are first cousins. But 
 I am not sure about Rhoda. Of course we never heard of 
 Rhoda until she married George." 
 
 " She has made him an excellent wife," Iglesias put in. 
 
 " I suppose she has," Serena said reflectively. " But 
 I sometimes wonder whether, if George had married some- 
 body else, it might not have been more satisfactory in 
 some ways." 
 
 Serena felt very proud in making this remark. It 
 elicited no reply, however, from Mr. Iglesias. 
 
 " I wonder if he really sees that Rhoda is on a different 
 level from us, and won't admit it; or whether he doesn't 
 see. If he doesn't see, of course that means a good 
 deal." 
 
 " Do you usually go out walking in the morning? " 
 Dominic inquired. The silence was becoming protracted. 
 Courtesy demanded that he should break it. 
 
 Serena looked at him with heightened intelligence. 
 
 " We were always brought up to take a walk twice a 
 day. Mamma was very particular about it. She believed 
 that health had so much to do with regular exercise. 
 Sometimes I wonder whether she did not carry that too 
 far. But, of course, Susan is very strong, much stronger 
 than I am. I believe she would have been strong in any 
 case, even if mamma had not insisted on our taking so 
 much exercise." Serena paused. " But I did not know 
 you went out in the morning. That is, I mean I have 
 never seen you go out before." 
 
 " Indeed," Iglesias exclaimed, a little startled at the 
 close observation of his habits implied by this remark. 
 
 " No," she said ; " of course one can see Cedar Lodge 
 very plainly from George's house, and I often look out 
 of window. I think it among the pleasures of London 
 to look out of window. I have never seen you go out in 
 the morning before." Again she paused, adding reflec-
 
 THE EAR HORIZON 151 
 
 .jf 
 
 tively : " It really seems rather odd that neither George 
 nor Rhoda should have told you that I had come back." 
 
 To this remark no suitable answer suggested itself. 
 Moreover, Mr. Iglesias was growing slightly impatient. 
 He wished she would see fit to move aside and let him 
 pass. 
 
 " ,Y U will get cold standing here," he said. " You 
 must not let me detain you any longer." 
 
 Serena's eyes snapped. She was excited. She was also 
 slightly offended. " He is very abrupt," she said to 
 herself; but she did not move aside and let him pass. 
 "Yes, he is abrupt," she repeated ; " still, he has a very 
 good manner. If one didn't know that he had been a 
 bank clerk, I wonder if one would detect it. I don't think 
 it would be a thing that need be mentioned, for instance, 
 at Slowby. Only Susan would be sure to make a point 
 of mentioning it. Susan has an idea she owes it to 
 herself to be truthful. Of course, it would be wrong to 
 deny that anyone had been a bank clerk; but that is 
 different from telling everybody. I wonder if Susan 
 would feel obliged to tell everybody." 
 
 When she reached the near side of the Green, Serena 
 looked back. Mr. Iglesias was in the act of entering the 
 Lovegroves' front door, which the worthy George held 
 open for him. Serena stood transfixed. 
 
 " So he was going there ! " she said to herself. " How 
 extraordinary not to mention it to me. What could have 
 been his object in not mentioning it? I wonder if he has 
 only gone to see George, or to see Rhoda as well. If he 
 has gone to see Rhoda, then I think he has been exceed- 
 ingly rude to me. And he has been very short-sighted, 
 too, if he didn't want me to know, for he might have taken 
 it for granted that of course I should look back. Unless 
 he did do it on purpose, meaning to be rude. But " 
 
 Serena resumed her walk. She was very much excited.
 
 152 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 " Of course he may have done it on purpose that I 
 should see, and understand that he meant something 
 special that he was going to speak to George and 
 Rhoda about something in particular, which he could not 
 say before me. He may have wanted to sound them. 
 But then it is so very odd that he should have said that 
 George had never told him I had come back. But I 
 don't believe he ever did say that." Serena was grow- 
 ing more and more excited. She drifted along the pave- 
 ment, in her rustling petticoats, with the most unusually 
 animated expression of countenance. 
 
 " I remember of course he did not say it. He avoided 
 the question each time. How very extraordinary! I 
 think he must mean me to understand something by that. 
 I wonder if George will refer to it at luncheon. If he 
 does not I must find out from Rhoda, but without letting 
 her suspect that I observed anything, of course." 
 
 Serena had quite ceased to be offended. Her fancy, 
 indeed, had taken a most wildly ingenious flight. She 
 felt very remarkable, very acute, quite dangerous, in 
 short and these sensations, however limited their justi- 
 fication by fact, were highly agreeable to her.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE heavens remained clear, the air exhilarating, and 
 Iglesias set forth on his weekly pilgrimage in a serene 
 frame of mind. George Lovegrove's view had been reas- 
 suring. 
 
 " I know you are much more far-sighted than I am," 
 he had said, his honest face beaming with combined 
 cleanliness and affection, " so I always hesitate to set 
 up my opinion against yours. It would be presump- 
 tuous. Still, you do surprise me. I never had an inkling 
 of anything of the sort; and between ourselves for I 
 should never hint at the subject before the wife, you 
 know it might upset her, females are so sensitive but 
 between ourselves it would fairly unman me to think there 
 could be any unsoundness in Barking Brothers & Bark- 
 ing. You know the phrase current in the city about 
 them 'as safe as the Bank of England'? And I have 
 always believed that. I know I left before Mr. Reginald 
 had any active share in the business, and I never have 
 cared about American speculation. It is all beyond me. 
 Still I cannot suppose the senior partners would let him 
 have too much his own way. Depend upon it, Sir Abel 
 keeps an eye on him. And then as to this war, of course 
 you have studied it all more deeply than I have the power 
 to do ; still I cannot help thinking you distress yourself 
 unnecessarily. As I said to the wife when I first heard 
 of it, it's suicidal. One can only feel pity for such poor 
 ignorant creatures, rushing headlong on their ruin. 
 Depend upon it, they will very soon come to their senses 
 and deplore their own rash action. A very few weeks will 
 see the finish of it all. I only hope there will not be much 
 
 153
 
 154 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 bloodshed first, for of course they couldn't stand up 
 against English troops for an hour, poor things." 
 
 Encouraged by which cheerful optimism Dominic 
 Iglesias began to think his fears exaggerated, as he 
 descended from an omnibus top at Hammersmith Bridge 
 that afternoon, crossed the river, and walked on down 
 the long suburban road. The sky was sharply blue. 
 Multicoloured leaves danced down from the trees in the 
 villa gardens. Gaily clad children, pursued by anxious 
 mothers and nursemaids, ran and shouted, the sunshine 
 and fresh air having gone to their heads. Perched on the 
 brick pier of an entrance gate, a robin uplifted its voice 
 in piercingly sweet song. Autumn wore her fairest face, 
 speaking of promise rather than of decay. It was good 
 to be alive. Even to Mr. Iglesias' sober and chastened 
 spirit horror of war, disgrace of financial failure, seemed 
 remote and inconsiderable things, morbid delusions such 
 as sane men brush aside scorning to give them harbourage 
 so much as of thought. 
 
 Poppy was mirthful, too, in her greeting of him. 
 
 " My dear man," she cried, " the house is out of 
 windows ! You find us in the throes of a great domestic 
 event. Cappadocia has done her duty by posterity. She 
 has been brought to bed, if you'll excuse my mentioning 
 it, of four puppies. Perfect little lambs, not a white 
 hair among them. And she shows true maternal feeling, 
 does Cappadocia. Whenever you go near her she tries 
 to bite." 
 
 Poppy spoke very fast, holding his hand, looking him 
 full in the face, her singular eyes very gentle in expres- 
 sion, yet all a-light. 
 
 " Ah ! it's good to see you. My stars, but It is good 
 to see you," she said. 
 
 And Dominic, moved beyond his wont, stood silent for 
 a space.
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 155 
 
 " ifou're not offended ? Surely, at this time of the 
 day, you're not going to stiffen up? " she asked. 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 " No, no, dear friend," he said ; " but this greeting is 
 a little wonderful to me. Except my mother, years ago, 
 nobody has ever cared whether I came or went." 
 
 " More fools they," Poppy answered, with a fine dis- 
 regard of grammar. " But all that's over now. You 
 know it's over. All the same I can't be altogether sorry 
 it was so, because it gives me my chance. Sit down; I'll 
 expound to you. Let us talk. You see, my beautiful 
 innocent, with most men worth knowing I am not talk- 
 ing about boys running about with the shell still on their 
 heads and more affections to place than they can find a 
 market for, but men. Well then, with most all of them, 
 when one comes to discuss matters, one finds one's had 
 such an awful lot of predecessors. At best one comes in 
 a bad third more often a bad three-and-twentieth I 
 mean nothing risky. Don't be nervous. But they have 
 romantic memories of half-a-dozen women. And so, 
 though they are no end nice and kind to one, play up 
 and give one a good time and have a jolly good one 
 themselves trust 'em to take care of that one knows 
 all the while, if one knows anything, that the whole show's 
 merely a rechauffe. Visions of Clara and Gladys, and 
 dear little Emily, and Rosina, and Beatrice, and the 
 lovely Lucinda angels, every one of them, if you haven't 
 seen them for ten years, and wouldn't know them again 
 if you met them in the street haunt the background of 
 every man's mind by the time he's five-and- thirty, and 
 cut entrancing capers against the sky-line, so that when 
 one comes to thrash the matter out one finds the actually 
 present woman, here in the foreground, hasn't really any 
 look-in at all." 
 
 Poppy threw her head back against the yellowish red
 
 156 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 cushions of the settee, her teeth showing white as she 
 laughed. 
 
 " Boys aren't worth having. They're too crude, too 
 callow. Moreover, it isn't playing the game. One doesn't 
 want to make a mess of their futures, poor little chaps. 
 And grown men, except as I say of the very preengaged 
 sort, are not to be had. So don't you understand, most 
 delightful lunatic, how it comes to pass that you and 
 your friendship are precious to me beyond words? When 
 you go I could cry. When you come I could dance." 
 
 Her tone changed, becoming defiant, almost fierce. 
 
 " And it is all right," she said, " thank heaven, right, 
 right, clean, and honest, and good for one's soul. Now 
 I've done. Only we are very happy in our own quaint 
 way, aren't we? And we can leave it at that. Oh, yes, 
 we can very well leave it at that if " she looked sideways 
 at Mr. Iglesias, her expression half-humorous, half- 
 pathetic " if only it will stay at that and not play the 
 mischief and scuttle off into something quite else." 
 
 She got up quickly, with a little air of daring and 
 bravado. 
 
 " I must move about. I must do something there, 
 I'll make up the fire. No, sit still, dear man " as 
 Dominic prepared to rise also " I like 'doing little odd 
 jobs with you here. It takes off the company feeling, 
 and makes it seem as if you belonged, and like the bicycle, 
 had ' come to stay.' " 
 
 Poppy threw a couple of driftwood logs upon the 
 smouldering fire. Around them sharp tongues of flame 
 rose and saffron, amber, sea-green, and heliotrope, 
 glories as of a tropic sunset leaped upward. She stood 
 watching these, her left hand resting on the edge of the 
 mantelpiece, her right holding up the front of her black 
 skirt. Her right foot rested on the fender curb, thereby 
 displaying a discreet interval of openwork silk stocking
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 157 
 
 and a neatly cut steel-buckled shoe. The many-hued fire- 
 light flickered over her dark figure; over the soft lace 
 jabot at her throat and ruffles at her wrists; over her 
 pale profile ; and glinted in the heavy masses of her hair. 
 The room, facing east, was cold with shadow, which the 
 thin fantastic colours of the flames appeared to emphasise 
 rather than to relieve. And Iglesias, obedient to her 
 entreaty, sat quietly waiting until it should again please 
 her to speak. For he had begun to accept her many 
 changes of mood as an integral element of her personality 
 a personality rich in rapid and subtle contradictions. 
 Often he had no clue to the meaning of these many 
 changes. But he did not mind that. Not absence of 
 vulgar curiosity alone, but an unwilling sub-conscious 
 shrinking from any too close acquaintance with the details 
 of her life contributed to render him passive. He had a 
 conviction, though he had never formulated it even in 
 thought, that ignorance in relation to her made for secur- 
 ity and content. And there was a refined charm in this 
 namely, that each to the other, even while friendship 
 deepened, should remain something of an undiscovered 
 country. Moreover, had she not told him that he rested 
 her? To ask questions, however sympathetic, to volun- 
 teer consolation, however delicately worded, is to risk 
 being officious; and to be officious, in however mild a 
 degree, is to drive away the shy and elusive spirit of 
 rest. And so Dominic Iglesias was coming, in the good 
 nautical reading of that phrase, simply " to stand by " 
 and wait where this woman was concerned. After all, 
 it was but the reapplication of a lesson learned long ago 
 for the support and solace of another woman, by him 
 supremely loved. To act thus was, therefore, not only 
 natural but poignantly sweet to him, as a new and gentle 
 offering laid upon the dear altar of his dead. It rejoiced 
 him to find that now, as of old, the demand created a
 
 158 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 supply of silent but sustaining moral force, ready to 
 pass into the sphere of active help should necessity 
 arise. 
 
 Nevertheless as the minutes passed, while daylight and 
 firelight alike began to fade, Dominic Iglesias grew some- 
 what troubled and sad. And it was with a distinct 
 movement of relief that he, at last, saw Poppy draw 
 herself up, push the soft masses of her hair back from 
 her forehead with a petulant gesture, and turn towards 
 him. As she did so she let her hands drop at her sides, 
 as though she had finished with and dismissed some unwel- 
 come form of thought, while her face showed wan, and 
 her eyes large and vague, as though they saw beyond and 
 through all that which they actually looked on. 
 
 " There, there," she said harshly, with an angry lift 
 of her head, " what a silly fool I am, wasting time like 
 this when you are here. But my soul went out of my 
 body; and I could afford to let it go, just because you 
 were here, and I felt safe." Her tone softened. " Sure 
 I don't bore you? " she asked. 
 
 Dominic shook his head, smiling. 
 
 " Very sure," he said. 
 
 " Bless you, then that's all right." Poppy strolled 
 back and sat down languidly. " I've gone confoundedly 
 tired," she said. " You see, I sat up half the night acting 
 Gamp to Cappadocia if you excuse my again alluding 
 to the domestic event. Oh ! my being tired doesn't matter. 
 My dear man, I'm never ill. I'm as strong as a horse. 
 Let's talk of something more interesting let's review the 
 topics of the hour only for the life of me I can't remem- 
 ber what the topics of the hour are ! Yes, I know though 
 the management of the Twentieth Century Theatre has 
 given Dot Parris a leading part. Does that leave you 
 cold? Impossible! Why, in theatrical circles it's a world- 
 shaking event. I own I'm curious to see how she docs
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 159 
 
 in legitimate drama, after her career in musical comedy 
 and at the halls, myself. I'm really very fond of her, 
 poor little Dot. She's going to call herself Miss Char- 
 lotte Colthurst in the future, I understand. Did you ever 
 hear such cheek? But then she always had the cheek of 
 the old gentleman himself, and that makes for success. 
 Cheek does go an awfully long way towards bringing 
 you through, don't you think so ? " 
 
 " Probably," Dominic said. " My opportunities of 
 exercising that particular form of virtue have been so 
 limited that I am quite prepared to accept your ruling 
 on the point." 
 
 Poppy laughed softly, looking at him with a great 
 friendliness. 
 
 " Ah ! but it wouldn't have been cheek in your case, 
 anyhow. It would merely have been that you stepped into 
 your right place, ascended any throne that happened to 
 be vacant, princely-wise, and assumed what we may call 
 top-dog place by right divine. I can see you doing it, 
 so statelily and yet so innocently. It would be a perfectly 
 delicious sight. I believe you will do it yet, some day, 
 somehow, and make a lot of people sit up. But that 
 reminds me, joking apart, there is a topic of the hour I 
 wanted to ask you about. Tell me what you think of this 
 war." 
 
 And Dominic Iglesias, once more obedient to her 
 changing mood, replied with quiet sincerity : 
 
 " I am told I am an alarmist. I hope I may prove to 
 be so, for in this matter I should much prefer the optimists 
 to be in the right. But I confess I do not like the outlook. 
 Both on public and private grounds this war makes me 
 anxious." 
 
 Poppy's languor had vanished. She had grown very 
 much alive again. Now she leaned forward, pressing her' 
 bands together, palm to palm, between her knees, and
 
 160 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 making herself small, as a child does when it is deeply in 
 earnest and wants to think. 
 
 " You're right," she assented. " I'm perfectly certain 
 all this cocksure Johnny-head-in-air business, ' sail to-day 
 and see you again at tea tomorrow, so it's not worth 
 while saying good-by ' you know the style? is fatuous 
 and idiotic. It is not bluff, because the English officer- 
 man doesn't bluff. He hasn't the brains, to begin with, 
 and then he is a very sound sort of an animal. He 
 doesn't need to hide his fright for the simple reason that 
 he's not frightened. A friend of mine was talking about 
 it all yesterday. He thinks as you do, and he's no silly, 
 though he is a member of the House of Lords. After 
 all, he can't help that, poor dear old chap," she added 
 apologetically, looking sideways at Mr. Iglesias. " But 
 there, you've seen him, I believe. You met him the first 
 time you came here. Don't you remember, I had to turn 
 you out because I had to see him on business, and you 
 ran across him in the hall as you were going? " 
 
 " I remember meeting someone," Dominic said, rather 
 loftily. He did not want to hear any more. The conver- 
 sation had become displeasing to him, though he could 
 have given no reason for his displeasure. But Poppy 
 suddenly turned mischievous and naughty. She patted 
 her hands gently together between her knees and swayed 
 with rather impish merriment. 
 
 " Ah, of course you were much too grand to take any 
 particular notice of him, poor brute. But he wasn't a 
 bit too grand to take a lot of notice of you. He was 
 fearfully impressed. Yes, I tell you he was. Don't be 
 cross. I am speaking the veracious truth. I give you 
 my word I'm not gassing. He was awfully keen to know 
 who you were, and where you came from, and how I 
 met you. And it was the sweetest thing out to be able to 
 reply that I'd been introduced to you on a bench a
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 161 
 
 mighty uncomfortable one, too, with no back to it! on 
 Barnes Common by Cappadocia; and that as to your 
 name and local habitation I hadn't the faintest ghost of 
 a notion what they were. Are you cross? Don't be 
 cross," Poppy pleaded. 
 
 " No, no, of course not," Mr. Iglesias answered, 
 goaded from his habitual calm and speaking almost 
 sharply. 
 
 Poppy patted her palms together again, swaying 
 backwards and forwards. Her eyes were dancing. 
 
 "Oh! but you are, though," she cried. "You're just 
 a wee bit jealous. You are you know you are, and 
 I'm not a scrap sorry. On the contrary, I'm enchanted. 
 For it shows that you are human after all, and must have 
 a name and address tucked away somewhere about you. I 
 don't want to know what they are, but it's comfortable 
 to be assured of their existence. It shows you don't drop 
 straight down from heaven as I was beginning to be 
 afraid you did once a week, into the Mortlake Road, 
 and then go straight up again. It shows that I could get 
 on to you by post, or telephone, or other means of 
 communication common to mortals, if I was in a tight 
 place and really wanted you, without walking as far as 
 Hammersmith Bridge and waiting in the wind and the 
 wet on the bare chance you might take it into your august 
 head to materialise, and break out of paradise, and take 
 a little stroll round our sublunary sphere." 
 
 For a moment Poppy laid her hand lightly on Mr. 
 Iglesias' shoulder. 
 
 " Yes, be cross," she repeated. " Just as cross as ever 
 you like, so long as you don't keep it up too protractedly. 
 It's the most engaging piece of flattery I've come across 
 for a month of Sundays. Only you needn't worry in 
 this particular instance, dear man, I give you my word 
 you needn't. It's a sheer waste of feeling. For Fallow-
 
 162 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 feild's always been perfectly decent with me. I know 
 people think him an awfully risky lot, but they're 
 noodles. He's racketed in his day of course he has. 
 But if he'd been more of a hypocrite, people would have 
 talked less. As the man says in the play, it's not the 
 sin but the being found out which makes the scandal. 
 And Fallowfeild was too honest. He never pretended to 
 be better than he was. He is a man of good nature who 
 has done wrong things, which is quite different to being 
 a man of bad nature who does wrong things, and still 
 more different to being a man of weak nature who pre- 
 tends to do right things. That last is the sort I hate 
 most, and I speak out of beastly intimate experience." 
 
 She made a most expressive grimace, as though she 
 had a remarkably disagreeable taste in her mouth. 
 
 " No salvation for that sort, I believe," she went on, 
 " either here or hereafter. Now, are you better? You 
 do believe it has always been perfectly square and above- 
 board between Fallowfeild and me, don't you? " 
 
 " Unquestionably, I believe it," Dominic answered. He 
 spoke slowly. 
 
 Poppy turned her head sharply and looked hard at him. 
 
 "Ah! but I don't quite like that," she said. "I've 
 muddled it somehow I see I have. I've hurt and offended 
 you. You're farther off than you were ten minutes ago. 
 In spirit you've got up and gone away. I have muddled 
 it. I have made you distrust me." 
 
 " No," Dominic answered, " you have not made me 
 distrust you; but you have perplexed me. It is the 
 result of my own dulness, no doubt. My imagination is 
 not agile enough to follow you, and so " 
 
 He hesitated. That which he had in his mind was not 
 easy to put into words without discourtesy. He would 
 far rather have left it unsaid; but to do so would have 
 been, in truth, to stand farther off, to erect a barrier
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 163 
 
 which might prove insuperable to happy companionship 
 in the future. 
 
 "Yes?" Poppy queried. Her voice shook just per- 
 ceptibly. In the deepening dusk neither could see the 
 other distinctly, and this contributed to Dominic's decision 
 to speak. 
 
 '^It pains me," he said at last, " if you will pardon 
 my frankness, that you should think it necessary to 
 account for yourself and justify yourself as you often 
 appear to do." 
 
 " Yes ? " Poppy queried again. 
 
 " That you should do so distresses and disturbs me." 
 
 " Yes," Poppy murmured. 
 
 " I am afraid I grow selfish," Iglesias went on gently ; 
 " but you have been good enough to tell me that my poor 
 friendship is of valufe to you. Does it not occur to you 
 that yours is of far greater value to me? And that for 
 many and obvious reasons these among others, that 
 while you are young, and have a wide circle of acquaint- 
 ances, and a future to which, brilliant as you are, you 
 may look forward with hope and assurance, I am abso- 
 lutely alone in the world. Save for one old school-fellow, 
 who has been very faithful to me, there is no one to 
 whom it matters, except in the most superficial degree, 
 whether I live or die." 
 
 " Ah ! " Poppy said softly. 
 
 " Do not misunderstand me, I do not complain," 
 Iglesias added. " I entertain no doubt but that the 
 circumstances in which I find myself are the right and 
 profitable ones for me, if I only lay to heart the lessons 
 they teach, and use the opportunities which they af- 
 ford me." 
 
 " I don't know about that I doubt that," Poppy put 
 in hastily. 
 
 " You doubt it because you are young," he answered,
 
 164 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 " and your circumstances are capable of alteration and 
 development. Except under very exceptional conditions, 
 resignation is no virtue in the young. It is more often 
 an excuse for cowardice and sloth. But at my age the 
 world changes its complexion. My circumstances are 
 incapable of alteration and development. They are final. 
 Therefore I do well to accept them unreservedly. The 
 work of my life is done. I do not say that it has been 
 a failure, for I fulfilled the main object I had in view. 
 But it has certainly been obscure and inglorious. The 
 sun will sink dimly enough into a bank of fog. My pres- 
 ent is meagre in interest and activity. My future, a brief 
 enough one in all probability, must of necessity be meagre 
 likewise. Therefore your friendship is of supreme impor- 
 tance to me." 
 
 Iglesias paused. His voice was grave, distinct, weighted 
 with feeling. He did not look at his companion; he 
 could not trust himself to do so, for he had discovered in 
 himself unexpected depths of emotion. 
 
 " And just on that account," he went on, " I grow 
 childishly nervous, childishly apprehensive if anything 
 arises which seems to cloud or, in however small a measure, 
 to endanger the serenity of our intercourse." 
 
 He turned and looked at her. 
 
 " This constitutes no slight to you, dear friend." 
 
 " No," she said, " very certainly it is no slight. On 
 the contrary, it is very beautiful; but it's an awful re- 
 sponsibility, too." 
 
 She sat quite still, her head carried high, her hands 
 clasped in her lap. 
 
 " I've underrated the position, I see. I've only thought 
 of myself so far and how you pleased me. But though 
 I'm pretty cheeky, too almost as cheeky as little Dot 
 I never had the presumption to put the affair the other 
 about."
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 165 
 
 Pbppy began to sway slightly again and pat the 
 palms of her hands together between her knees. 
 
 " It's been a game, the finest game I've ever played ; 
 and I swore by all my gods to play fair. But, as you 
 look at it, our friendship amounts to a good deal more 
 than a game. It goes very deep. And I'm not sure 
 no, I'm not whether I'm equal to it." 
 
 She glanced at Iglesias strangely through the clinging 
 grey of the dusk. 
 
 " Dear unknown," she said, " I give you my word 
 I'm frightened I who've never been frightened at any 
 man yet. In my own little way I've played pitch and 
 toss with their hearts and made footballs of them except 
 that poor young fellow I told you about him the first 
 time we met who gave me the scarf, and whose people 
 wouldn't let him marry me. But this affair with you is 
 different. It goes very far, it means it means nothing 
 short of revolution for me, of putting away and renounc- 
 ing very much." 
 
 Poppy got up, stood pushing her hair back with both 
 hands from her forehead. Then she moved across to 
 the further side of the fireplace. Dominic had risen also. 
 He stood on the near side of the hearth. He was pene- 
 trated with the conviction that a crisis was upon them 
 both, involving all the happiness of their future relation 
 to one another. 
 
 " You don't understand," Poppy cried passionately. 
 " And I don't want you to understand that's half the 
 trouble. I want to keep you. Your friendship's the 
 loveliest thing I've ever had. And yet I don't know. 
 For I'm not one woman I'm half-a-dozen women, and 
 they all pull all sorts of ways so that I daren't trust 
 myself. I want to keep you, I tell you, I want horribly 
 to keep you. Yet I'm ghastly afraid I'm not equal to it. 
 The price is too big."
 
 166 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 As she spoke Poppy dashed her hand against the 
 push of the electric bell, and held it there, ringing a pro- 
 longed alarum, in quick response to which Phillimore, the 
 respectable elderly parlourmaid, appeared, bearing two 
 rose-shaded lamps. Noiselessly and deftly as one ac- 
 customed to agitations, whose eyes did not see or ears hear 
 if it should be unadvisable to permit them to do so she 
 drew the curtains, made up the fire, set out the tea-table. 
 And with that change of scene and shutting out of the 
 dusk, Poppy seemed to change also ; gravity and strength 
 of purpose departing from her, and leaving her notwith- 
 standing her sober dress unreal, fictitious, artificial, the 
 red-lipped carmine-tinted lady of the footlights, of the 
 windswept dust and embroidered dragons again. She 
 chattered, moreover, ceaselessly, careless of interruption, 
 and of criticism alike. 
 
 " Here, let's hark back to the ordinary conduct of 
 material existence," she said. "Tea? Won't you sit 
 down? No well, just as you like best. Take it stand- 
 ing. Let me see, what were we discussing when we got 
 switched on to unexpectedly personal lines of conversa- 
 tion? The war yes, I remember. I was just going to 
 tell you that Fallowfeild believes it's going to be a nasty 
 dragging unsatisfactory business. Everyone gasses about 
 the Boers being a simple pastoral people. But Fallow- 
 feild says their simplicity is just another name for guile, 
 and that he anyway can't conceive a more disconcerting 
 job than fighting a nation of farmers and huntsmen and 
 gamekeepers in their own country, every inch of which 
 they know. People say they've no military science. But 
 so jolly much the better for them. They can be unfet- 
 tered opportunists, with nothing to think of but outwit- 
 ting the enemy and saving their property and their skins. 
 The poor British Tommy will be no match for them; 
 nor will the British officer-man either, till he's unlearned
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 167 
 
 his p'arade-ground etiquette, and his haw-haw red-tape 
 methods and manner, and learned their very primitive but 
 very cute and foxy ones. By which time, Fallowfeild 
 says, the mourning warehouses here at home will have 
 made a record turnover, and there will be altogether too 
 many new graveyards for comfort in South Africa." 
 
 Poppy paused in her harangue, for Dominic Iglesias 
 had set down his cup, its contents untasted. He was sad 
 at heart. 
 
 " Are you going ? " she asked. 
 
 " Yes," he answered. " It grows late. It's time I went, 
 I think." 
 
 " Perhaps it is." Poppy's eyes had become inscrut- 
 able. " I really ought to attend to my Gamping, and 
 pass the time of day with Cappadocia. Her snappish- 
 ness has scared the maids. They refuse to go within a 
 measured furlong of her." 
 
 Poppy bent down over the tea-table, arranging the 
 teacups with elaborate neatness. 
 
 " Good-by," she said. " I don't quite know when we 
 shall meet again." 
 
 " Why ? " Iglesias asked. The muscles of his throat 
 were rigid. He had much ado to speak plainly and natu- 
 rally. " Are you leaving home ? " 
 
 "Home?" she answered. "Yes, I'm leaving it. 
 Good-by again. Don't let me keep you. Certainly I'm 
 leaving home. Indeed, I believe I have left it already 
 for good." 
 
 And she threw back her head and laughed. 
 
 Upon the doorstep a cold rush of air met Mr. Iglesias. 
 Above, the sky was blue-black and very clear. The road 
 was vacant and grey with frost. The flame of the gas- 
 lamps quivered, giving off a sharp brightness in the keen 
 atmosphere. Mr. Iglesias turned up the collar of his 
 coat and descended the steps. Just then a hansom
 
 168 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 emerged from the distance and drew up with a rattle 
 and grind against the curb some twenty paces ahead. 
 The occupant, a young man, flung back the doors with 
 a thud, and stood a moment on the footboard paying the 
 driver, who raised himself, leaning forward with out- 
 stretched hand across the glistening black roof of the 
 cab. Then the young man turned round, swung himself 
 down on to the asphalt pavement, and came forward as 
 rapidly as a long motor-coat, reaching to his heels, would 
 permit. He was tall and fair, well-favoured, preoccupied, 
 not to say morose. He did not vouchsafe Mr. Iglesias so 
 much as a glance as he brushed past him. The road was 
 still vacant, and in the frosty air sounds carried. Mr. 
 Iglesias distinctly heard him race up a neighbouring flight 
 of steps, heard the click and turn of a latchkey in a 
 lock, heard the slam of a front door pulled to violently. 
 And so doing Dominic turned cold and a little faint. He 
 would not condescend to look back ; but he had recognised 
 Alaric Barking, and was in no doubt which house he 
 had entered. 
 
 " Keb, sir? 'Ere yer are, sir," the cabby called 
 cheerily. " Very cold night. Just set one gentleman down, 
 and 'appy to tike another up. Want to get back to my 
 comfy little West End shelter, so I'll tike yer for 'alf 
 fares, sir, though we are outside the blooming radius." 
 
 But Iglesias shook his head. The horse stood limply in 
 a cloud of steam. Alaric Barking had evidently pushed 
 the pace. But even had the animal been in better condi- 
 tion, Iglesias had no desire to drive in that particular cab. 
 He would rather have walked the whole way to Cedar 
 Lodge. 
 
 Opposite the Bell Inn, where the roads fork one turn- 
 ing away through Mortlake, the other leading to Barnes 
 Common, Roehamptori, and Sheen the row of smart little 
 houses degenerates into shops. By the time he reached
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 169 
 
 these 1 ' Mr. Iglesias discovered that he was unaccountably 
 tired. The keen air oppressed his chest, making his breath 
 come short. It was useless to attempt to go home on foot. 
 Then, with a sense of relief, he saw that on the far side 
 of the road a couple of omnibuses stood, the horses' heads 
 turned Londonwards. He crossed, climbed the stairway 
 of the leading vehicle slowly, and sank into a seat. The 
 'bustop was unoccupied, yet Dominic was not by himself. 
 Two companions had climbed the winding stairway with 
 him and taken their places ' beside him, Old Age on his 
 left hand, Loneliness on his right. All up the long sub- 
 urban road, while the omnibus bumped and jolted and the 
 fallen leaves whirled and scurried before the searching 
 breath of the night wind, Iglesias' two companions 
 seemed to lean across him, talking. There were tones of 
 mockery in their talk, while behind and through it, as 
 some discordant refrain, he heard the ring of a young 
 man's eager footsteps, the click and turn of a latchkey, 
 and the slam of a door as it shut. On nearing the river 
 the cold grew intense. Crossing the bridge, the water- 
 side lights were reflected in the surface of the stream, 
 which ran full and strong from the autumn rains, swirling 
 seaward with an ebbing tide. To Iglesias' eyes the reflec- 
 tions converted themselves into fiery dragons, writhing in 
 the heat of deadly conflict, as upon Poppy St. John's 
 oriental scarf. A glare hung over London, palpitating 
 as with multitudinous and angry life; and when the 
 omnibus slowed up in Hammersmith Roadway the voice 
 of the streets grew loud the monstrous city, so it seemed 
 to Dominic Iglesias, shouting defiance to the majestic 
 calm and solemnity of the eternal stars.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 " HE says it is nothing serious, only a slight chill ; and 
 sends kind regards and many thanks for kind inquiries, 
 and hopes to be out in a day or two, when he will call 
 and thank you in person." 
 
 This from George Lovegrove to his wife, the latter 
 arrayed in garments of ceremony and seated upon the 
 Chesterfield sofa awaiting guests. It was her afternoon 
 at-home. 
 
 " Well, I'm sure I hope it is no more than that, 
 Georgie," she answered comfortably. " Chills are always 
 going about in November, and very often gentlemen 
 encourage them especially bachelors by not changing 
 into their winter vests and pants early enough. A great 
 deal of illness is contracted that way." 
 
 Here Serena rustled audibly. She stood by the win- 
 dow, holding the lace curtain just sufficiently aside to get 
 a narrow and attenuated view of the fog-enshrouded 
 Green. The outlook was far from inspiriting, and Serena 
 was keenly interested in the conversation going forward 
 between her host and hostess. But it was not in her pro- 
 gramme to let this appear. She, while straining her ears 
 to listen, therefore maintained an air of detachment. The 
 word " pants " was, however, too much for her fortitude, 
 and she rustled. " Really, Rhoda does use the most 
 dreadfully unladylike expressions sometimes," she com- 
 mented inwardly. " She never seems to remember that 
 everyone is not married, though even if they were I should 
 hope they would not mention those sort of things. Rhoda 
 is wanting in refinement. I wonder if George notices 
 that and feels it. If he does notice it, I think he ought 
 
 to tell her about it, because " 
 
 170
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 171 
 
 But here she fell to listening again, since the said 
 George took up his parable once more. 
 
 " Still, I own I don't like his looks somehow. His face 
 is so thin and drawn. It reminds me of the time his 
 mother, poor Mrs. Iglesias, died. I told him, just jocu- 
 larly, that his appearance surprised me, but he put it 
 all aside you know he has a very high aristocratic 
 manner at times that makes you feel you have been intru- 
 sive and then talked of other things." 
 
 " He has lived too solitary," Mrs. Lovegrove said 
 judicially, " too solitary, and that tells on any one in 
 middle life. I should never forgive myself if we left him to 
 mope. You must just try to coax him over here to stay, 
 Georgie, and I'll nurse him up and humour him, and for- 
 tunately Serena's here, you see, for pleasant company." 
 
 Mrs. Lovegrove looked meaningly at her spouse, while 
 the figure at the window again rustled. 
 
 " I am sure you would exert yourself to help cheer poor 
 Mr. Iglesias up, if he came over to stay, would you not 
 now, Serena ? " she inquired insinuatingly. 
 
 "Are you speaking to me, Rhoda? " 
 
 " Yes, about Mr. Iglesias coming here to stay." 
 
 Serena turned her head and answered over her shoulder. 
 
 " Of course you and George are quite at liberty to ask 
 anyone here whom you like. And if Mr. Iglesias came 
 I should be perfectly civil to him. But I should not care, 
 Rhoda, to bind myself to anything more than that, 
 because I do not find him an easy person to get on with." 
 
 She turned to her contemplation of the fog with a 
 renewed assumption of indifference. George Lovegrove's 
 shiny forehead puckered into little lines. He looked anx- 
 iously at his wife. The good lady, however, laid a fat 
 forefinger upon her lips and nodded her head at him in 
 the most archly reassuring manner. 
 
 " That's funny," she said, " because Mr. Iglesias is
 
 172 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 quite the cleverest of all Georgie's gentlemen friends 
 except, of course, the dear vicar and so I always took 
 for granted anyone like yourself was sure to get on 
 nicely with him, Serena. Even I hardly ever find him 
 difficult to talk with." 
 
 " I never talk easily to strangers," Serena put in loftily. 
 
 " Oh ! but you'd hardly call Mr. Iglesias a stranger." 
 
 " Yes, I should," Serena declared with emphasis. " I 
 should certainly call him a stranger. I always call every- 
 one a stranger till I know them intimately. It is much 
 safer to do so. And it would be absurd to pretend that 
 I know Mr. Iglesias intimately. You, of course, do, but 
 I do not. You and George may have seen him frequently 
 since I have been here, but I have really seen him very 
 seldom, four or five times at the outside. He has generally 
 appeared to call when I was likely to be out. I could not 
 help observing that. It may be a coincidence, of course. 
 But I cannot pretend that I have not thought it rather 
 marked." 
 
 Serena had advanced into the centre of the room. She 
 held herself erect. She enjoyed making a demonstration. 
 " Rhoda may think I am a cipher," she said to her- 
 self, " but she is mistaken. She may think I can be 
 hoodwinked and used as a mere tool, but I will let her 
 see that I cannot." She felt daring and dangerous, and 
 her eyes snapped. The rustling of her skirts and the 
 emphatic tones of her voice aroused the parrot, which 
 had been dosing on its perch, its head sunk between its 
 shoulders and its breast-feathers fluffed out into a little 
 green apron over its grey claws. 
 
 "Pollie's own pet girlie," it murmured drowsily, with 
 dry clickings of its tongue against its beak, the words 
 jolting out in foolish twos and threes. " Hi ! p'liceman 
 murder! fire! thieves! there's another jolly row down- 
 stairs."
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 173 
 
 Poor George Lovegrove gazed in bewilderment from 
 Serena to the parrot, from the parrot to his wife, and 
 then back to Serena again. 
 
 " You do surprise me ! And I am more mortified than 
 I can say that you should have the most distant reason, 
 Serena or Susan either ever to feel the least slighted in 
 this house. You do surprise me I can't believe it has 
 been the least intentional on Iglesias' part. But I would 
 not have had anything of the kind happen for twenty 
 pounds." 
 
 " Pray don't apologise, George," Serena cried, " or 
 I shall feel quite annoyed. Of course everyone has a 
 right to their own preferences; but I had been led to 
 expect something different. As I say, it may only be a 
 coincidence. Nothing may have really been meant. Only 
 it has seemed rather marked. But in any case it has not 
 been your fault, George." 
 
 " I am very glad you allow that, Serena," the good 
 creature said humbly. 
 
 " Oh ! yes. I quite excuse you of any intentional slight, 
 George. I quite trust you. Still, nothing could be more 
 unpleasant than for me to feel that my being here put 
 any restriction upon your friends coming to the house. 
 Of course I know Susan and I move in rather different 
 society from Rhoda and yourself." 
 
 " Yes," he assented hurriedly, agonised as to the wife's 
 feelings " yes, yes." 
 
 " And so it is quite possible that I may not suit some 
 of your acquaintances." 
 
 " Excuse me," he panted " no, Serena, I cannot think 
 that." 
 
 " I am not sure," she returned argumentatively. " Not 
 at all sure, George. And nothing could be more unpleas- 
 ant to me than to feel I was the least in the way. Of 
 course, I should never have come back if I had supposed
 
 174. THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 I should be in the way; but Rhoda made such a point 
 of it." 
 
 Here the parrot broke forth into prolonged and ear- 
 piercing shriekings, flapping its wings violently and 
 nearly tumbled backwards off its perch. 
 
 " Throw a handkerchief over the poor bird's cage, 
 Georgie dear," cried Mrs. Lovegrove from the sofa. Her 
 face was red. She had become distressingly hot and 
 flustered. " And just as I was flattering myself it was 
 all turning out so nicely, too," she said to herself. " No, 
 not your own, Georgie dear " this aloud " you may 
 need it later. The red bandana out of the right-hand 
 corner of the top drawer of the work-table." 
 
 " I think it would be much simpler for me to go," Serena 
 continued, her voice pitched in a high key to combat the 
 cries of the parrot and the rattle of the table drawer, 
 which George Lovegrove in his present state of agitation 
 found it impossible to shut with accuracy and despatch. 
 
 " Of course, it may inconvenience Susan to have me 
 return sooner than she expected. She is away speaking 
 at a number of missionary meetings in the North. And 
 the maids will be on board wages, and the drawing-room 
 furniture will have been put into holland covers. She 
 counted on my staying here till I go to my cousin, Lady 
 Samuelson, in Ladbroke Square, the third week in De- 
 cember. But, of course, all that must be arranged. I 
 can give up my visit. Lady Samuelson will be annoyed, 
 and I don't know what excuse I can make to her. Still, 
 I think I had really much better go ; and then you can 
 have Mr. Iglesias, or any other of your and Rhoda's 
 friends, to stop here without my feeling that I am in 
 the way. Nothing could be more odious to me than feel- 
 ing I was encroaching or forcing myself upon you. 
 Mamma would never have countenanced such behaviour. 
 It is the sort of thing we were always brought up to
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 175 
 
 hav the greatest horror of. It is a thing I never have 
 done and never could do. I hope you understand that, 
 George. Nothing could be further from my thoughts 
 when I accepted Rhoda's invitation to " 
 
 " Miss Hart, please, ma'am," the little house-parlour- 
 maid trumpeted, her face very pink from the exertion of 
 attracting her mistress's attention and making herself 
 heard. Mrs. Lovegrove bounced up from the sofa. 
 Usually, it must be allowed, the great Eliza was rather 
 at a. discount. Now she was astonishingly welcome. 
 Her hostess's greeting, though silent, was effusively cor- 
 dial. She clutched at her guest's hand as one in imminent 
 risk of drowning at a lifebelt. The said guest was in her 
 sprightliest humour. She was also in a scarlet flannel 
 blouse thickly powdered with gradated black discs. This, 
 in conjunction with purple chrysanthemums in a black 
 hat, her tawny hair and freckled complexion, did not 
 constitute a wholly delicious scheme of colour; but to this 
 fact Mrs. Lovegrove was supremely indifferent. 
 
 " Good-afternoon," Miss Hart said in a stage whisper, 
 glancing towards Serena, still bright-eyed and erect. 
 " Don't let me interrupt, pray. My conversation will 
 keep. I will just sit and listen." 
 
 "Listen to what?" Serena cried, almost inarticulate 
 with indignation. 
 
 " Why, to your recitation. Our gentlemen often treat 
 us to a little in that line of an evening, Mrs. Lovegrove, 
 after dinner. I dote on recitation. Pieces of a comic 
 nature specially, when well delivered." 
 
 " I should never dream of reciting," Serena declared 
 heatedly. 
 
 " No, really now," Miss Hart returned. " That seems 
 quite a pity. It is such a pleasant occupation for a 
 dull afternoon like this, do you not think so, Miss Love- 
 grove? I declare I was quite sure, from the moment
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 I came into the hall while I was taking off my water- 
 proof that your cousin was giving you a little entertain- 
 ment of that kind, Mr. Lovegrove. Her voice was running 
 up and down in such a very telling manner." 
 
 If glances could scorch, Miss Hart would unquestionably 
 have been reduced to a cinder, for rage possessed Serena. 
 She had worked herself up into a fine fume of anger 
 over purely imaginary injuries. And now, that Eliza 
 Hart, of all people in the world, should intervene with 
 suggestions of comic recitations ! 
 
 " Detestable person ! " Serena said to herself. " Her 
 conduct is positively outrageous. Of course she knew 
 perfectly well I was doing nothing of the kind. Really, 
 I believe anybody would feel her manner quite insulting. 
 I wonder how George and Rhoda can tolerate her. It 
 shows George has deteriorated much that he should tol- 
 erate her. I am not so surprised at Rhoda. Of course 
 she never had good taste. I think I ought to go to 
 my room. That would mark my displeasure. But then 
 she may have come on purpose to say something par- 
 ticular. I wonder if she has done so? Of course if 
 she has, she wants to get rid of me. That is her object. 
 But she is mistaken if she thinks that I shall gratify her. 
 I think I owe it to myself to make sure exactly what is 
 going on. I wih 1 certainly stay. That will show her I 
 am on the watch." 
 
 During this protracted, though silent, colloquy, Serena 
 had remained standing in the middle of the room. Now 
 she rustled back to the window, held aside the lace curtain 
 and resumed her contemplation of the fog-enshrouded 
 Green. Good George Lovegrove gazed after her in deep 
 dejection and perplexity. Somebody, it appeared to him, 
 had been extremely unreasonable and disagreeable; but 
 who that somebody was for the very life of him he could 
 not tell. The wife was out of the question ; while to sup-
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 177 
 
 idf ' 
 
 pose it Serena approached high treason. Still he was very 
 sure it could not be that most scrupulously courteous per- 
 sonage Dominic Iglesias. There remained himself *' Yet 
 I wouldn't knowingly vex a fly," he thought, " and as to 
 vexing Serena! Sometimes one does wish females were 
 not quite so sensitive." 
 
 ]V[iss Hart, meanwhile, had taken the unaccustomed post 
 of honour beside her hostess upon the sofa. She was en- 
 joying herself immensely. She had a conviction of march- 
 ing to victory. 
 
 " Yes," she said, " Mrs. Lovegrove, dear Peachie Porcher 
 asked me just to run across, as she has missed your last two 
 afternoons, lest you should think her neglectful. I am 
 well aware I am but a poor substitute for Peachie no 
 compliments now, Mr. Lovegrove, if you please ! " 
 
 " Mrs. Porcher is in good health, I trust " this from 
 Rhoda. 
 
 " At present, yes, I am happy to say, thank you. But 
 how long it will continue," Miss Hart spoke impressively 
 " at this rate I am sure I cannot tell." 
 
 " Indeed," George Lovegrove inquired anxiously. 
 " You don't tell me so ! Nothing wrong, I trust." 
 
 " Well, as I always tell her, her sense of duty amounts 
 almost to a fault so unselfish, so conscientious, it brings 
 tears to my eyes often at times. I hope it is appreciated 
 in the right quarter I do hope that, Mr. Lovegrove." 
 
 Here Rhoda's bosom heaved with a generous sigh. 
 
 " There is much ingratitude in the world, Miss Hart, I 
 fear," she said pensively. 
 
 Her husband looked at her in an anguish of apology 
 whether for his own sins or those of others he knew not 
 exactly. 
 
 " So there is, Mrs. Lovegrove," Eliza responded warmly. 
 " And nobody is a more speaking example of that truth 
 than Peachie Porcher. When I think of all she went
 
 178 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 through during her married life, and yet so unsuspicious, 
 so trusting it is enough to melt an iceberg, that it is, 
 Mrs. Lovegrove. Now, as I was saying to her only this 
 morning, * You must study yourself a little, get out in the 
 air, take a peep at the shops, and have some amusement.' 
 But her reply is always the same. ' No, Liz, dear,' she 
 says, * not at the present time, thank you. I know the 
 duties of my position as mistress of Cedar Lodge. When 
 any one of our gentlemen is ailing, my place is at home. 
 I must remain in the house in case of a sudden emergency. 
 I should not have an easy moment away from the place,' 
 she says." 
 
 Miss Hart looked around upon her hearers demanding 
 approbation and sympathy. 
 
 " Very affecting, is it not? " she inquired. 
 
 After a moment's embarrassed silen-ce, George Lovegrove 
 murmured a suitable, if timid, assent. His wife assumed 
 a bolder attitude. Goaded by provocations recently re- 
 ceived, she went over temporarily to the side of the 
 enemy. 
 
 " I always have maintained Mrs. Porcher was full of 
 heart," she declared, throwing the assertion across the 
 room, much as though it was a stone, in the direction of 
 the figure at the window. 
 
 Serena drew herself up with a rustle. 
 
 " I wonder exactly what Rhoda means by that ? " she 
 commented inwardly. " I think it very odd. Of course, 
 she must have some meaning, and I wonder what it is. She 
 seems to be changing her line. I am glad I stayed. I 
 am afraid Rhoda is rather deceitful. I excuse George of 
 deceit. I believe George to be true; but he is sadly in- 
 fluenced by Rhoda. I am rather sorry for George." 
 
 " So she is, Mrs. Lovegrove," Eliza Hart resumed 
 " Peachie's too full of heart, as I tell her. She is forever 
 thinking of others and their comforts. She grudges
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 179 
 
 neither time nor money, does not Peachie. There is 
 nothing calculating or cheese-paring about her not 
 enough, I often think. Fish, sweetbreads, game, poultry, 
 and all of the very best where the profits are to come from 
 with a bill of fare like that passes my powers of arithmetic, 
 and so I point out to her. I hope it is appreciated yes, 
 I do hope that, Mr. Lovegrove " here the speaker became 
 extremely coy and playful. " A little bird sometimes 
 seems to twitter to me that it is. And yet I am sure I 
 don't know. The members of your sex are very mislead- 
 ing, Mr. Lovegrove. Do not perjure yourself, now. You 
 cannot take me in. And a certain gentleman is very close, 
 you know, and stand-offish. It is not easy to get at his 
 real sentiments, is it, now? " 
 
 Serena laid back her ears, so to speak. " I was quite 
 right to stay," she reflected wrathfully. 
 
 " I think Mr. Iglesias is unusually considerate, Miss 
 Hart," George Lovegrove said tentatively. " He is quite 
 sensible of Mrs. Porcher's kind attentions. But naturally 
 he is very tenacious of upsetting her household arrange- 
 ments and giving additional trouble." 
 
 " And then the position of a bachelor is delicate, Miss 
 Hart, you must admit," Mrs. Lovegrove chimed in. 
 " That's what I always tell Georgie. It may do all very 
 well in their younger days to be unattached, but as gentle- 
 men get on in life they do need their own private establish- 
 ments. I am sure I am sorry for them in chambers, or even 
 in good rooms like those at Cedar Lodge. For it is not the 
 same as a home, Miss Hart, and never can be. There must 
 be awkwardnesses on both sides at times, especially when it 
 comes to illness." 
 
 Then the great Eliza gathered herself together, for it 
 appeared to her her forecast had been just and that she 
 was indeed marching to victory. 
 
 " Yes, there is no denying all that," she said, " and I
 
 180 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 am more than glad you see it in that light, Mrs. Love- 
 grove. Between ourselves, I have more and more ever 
 since a certain gentleman gave up work in the City. It 
 would be premature to speak freely; but, just between 
 friends and under the rose, you being interested in one 
 party and I in the other, there can be no harm in dropping 
 a hint and ascertaining how the land lies. Of course if it 
 came to pass, it would be to my own disadvantage, for I 
 do not know how I should ever bear to part with Peachie 
 Porcher. Still, I could put myself aside, if I felt it was 
 for her happiness." 
 
 " You do surprise me," George Lovegrove exclaimed. 
 He was filled with consternation, his hair nearly rising on 
 his head. " I had no notion. Dear me, you fairly take 
 away my breath." He could almost have wept. " To 
 think of it ! " he repeated. " Only to think of it ! Miss 
 Hart, you do surprise me." 
 
 " Oh ! you must not run away with the notion anything 
 is really settled yet," she replied. " And I could not say 
 Mrs. Porcher really would, when it came to the point, after 
 the experiences she had in her first marriage. She is very 
 reserved, is Peachie. Still, she might. And very for- 
 tunate a certain gentleman would be if she did it does not 
 take more than half an eye to see that." 
 
 " Dr. Nevington, please, ma'am," announced the par- 
 lourmaid, and the fine clerical voice and clerical presence 
 filled all the room. Thereupon Serena graciously joined 
 the circle. She was unusually self-possessed and definite. 
 She embarked in a quite spirited conversation with the 
 newcomer. And when Eliza Hart, after a few pleasantries 
 of a parochial tendency with the said newcomer in whose 
 favour she had vacated the place of honour upon the sofa 
 rose to depart, Serena bowed to her in the most royally 
 distant and superior manner. Her amiability remained a 
 constant quantity during the rest of the evening; and
 
 181 
 
 if 
 
 when an opportunity occurred of speaking in private to her 
 cousin, she did so with the utmost cordiality. 
 
 " I do hope, George," she said, " you will not think any 
 more of our little unpleasantness. I can truly say I never 
 bear malice. I own I was annoyed, for I felt I had not 
 been quite fairly treated by Rhoda. But, of course, I 
 may have been mistaken. I am quite willing to believe so 
 and to let bygones be bygones, and stay, as Rhoda pressed 
 me to do, until I go to my cousin, Lady Samuelson, in 
 December. Of course it would be more convenient to me 
 in some ways. But I am not thinking of that. I am 
 thinking of you and Rhoda. I should not like to dis- 
 appoint her by leaving her when she wants me to help 
 entertain your friend, Mr. Iglesias. Of course, I cannot 
 pretend I take easily to strangers. Mamma was very 
 particular whom we associated with, and so I have always 
 been unaccustomed to strangers, and I cannot pretend I 
 am partial to making new acquaintances. Still, I should 
 be very sorry to seem unaccommodating, or to hurt you 
 and Rhoda by refusing to stay and assist you." 
 
 " Thank you truly, Serena ; I am sure you are very 
 kind," the good man answered. And the best, or the worst, 
 of it was he actually believed he was speaking the truth !
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE easterly wind blew strong and shattering, bleak and 
 dreary, against the windows of the bedchamber at the back 
 of the house. The complaint of the cedar tree, as the 
 branches sawed upon one another, was long-drawn and 
 loud. These sounds reached Iglesias in the sitting-room, 
 where he sat, alone and unoccupied, before the fire. For 
 more than a week now he had been confined to the house. 
 He had set the door of communication between the two 
 rooms open, so as to gain a greater sense of space and 
 that he might take a little exercise by walking the whole 
 length of them. The cry of the wind and the moan of the 
 sawing branches was very comfortless, yet he made no 
 effort to shut it out. To begin with, he was so weak that 
 it was too much trouble to move. To go on with, the 
 melancholy sounds were not ill-suited to his present humour. 
 For a great depression was upon him, a weariness of spirit 
 which might be felt. Out of doors London shivered, 
 houses and sky and the expanse of Trimmer's Green, with 
 its leafless trees and iron railings, livid, a greyness upon 
 them as of fear. Dominic had no quarrel with this either. 
 Indeed it gave him a certain bitter satisfaction, as offering 
 a not inharmonious setting to his own thought. 
 
 Though not robust he was tough and wiry, so that ill- 
 ness of such a nature as to necessitate his remaining within 
 doors was a new and trying experience. Crossing Ham- 
 mersmith Bridge on the 'bustop ten days previously, the 
 chill of the river had struck through him. Yet this, in all 
 reasonable probability, would merely have resulted in pass- 
 ing physical discomfort, but for the moral and spiritual 
 hurt immediately preceding it. How far the mind has 
 
 189
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 183 
 
 jf .__ 
 
 power to cure the body is still an open question. But that 
 
 the mind can actively predispose the body to sickness is 
 indubitable. To realise and analyse, in their several bear- 
 ings, the causes and consequences of that same moral hurt 
 Iglesias' pride and loyalty alike refused. In respect of 
 them he set his jaw and sternly averted his eyes. Yet, 
 though the will may be steady to resist and to abstain, the 
 tides of feeling ebb and flow, contemptuous of control as 
 those of some unquiet sea. They defy volition, notably in 
 illness when vitality is low. Refuse as he might to go be- 
 hind the fact, it remained indisputable that the Lady of 
 the Windswept Dust had given him his dismissal. Out of 
 his daily life a joy had gone, a constant object of thought 
 and interest. Out of his heart a living presence had gone, 
 leaving a void more harsh than death. And all this had 
 happened in a connection peculiarly painful and distaste- 
 ful to him; so that it was as though a foul miasma had 
 arisen, and, drifting across the face of his fair friendship, 
 distorted its proportions, rendering all his memories of it 
 suspect. Further, in this discrediting of friendship his 
 hope of the discovery of that language of the soul which 
 can alone effect a true adjustment between the exterior and 
 interior life had suffered violent eclipse. He had been 
 thrown back into the prison-house of the obvious and the 
 material. The world had lost its poetry, had grown nar- 
 row, sordid, dim, and gross. His own life had grown more 
 than ever barren of opportunity and inept. In short, 
 Dominic Iglesias had lost sight of the far horizon which 
 is touched by the glory of the Uncreated Light ; and, so 
 doing, dwelt in outer darkness once again, infinitely 
 desolate. 
 
 On the afternoon in question he had reached the nadir 
 of disillusion and distrust. He leaned back in the red- 
 covered chair, his shapely hands lying, palms downward, 
 along the two arms of it, his vision of the room and its
 
 184 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 familiar contents blurred by unshed tears. It was an hour 
 of supreme discouragement. 
 
 " Nothing is left," he said, half aloud, " nothing. The 
 future is as blank as the present. If this is to grow old, 
 then indeed those whom the gods love have need enough to 
 die young." 
 
 For a space he listened to the shattering wind as it cried 
 in the window-sashes, to the branches of the cedar sawing 
 upon one another and moaning as in self-inflicted pain. 
 Newsboys were calling early specials. The coarse cockney 
 voices, strangled by the easterly blast, met and crossed one 
 another, died away in a side street, to emerge again and 
 again encounter. Such words as were distinguishable 
 seemed of sinister import, agitating to the imagination. 
 Then de Courcy Smyth's shuffling footsteps crossed the 
 floor of the room overhead. The wire-wove mattress of 
 his bed creaked as he sat on the edge of it, kicking off his 
 slippers and putting on walking boots, as might be gath- 
 ered from floppings followed by an equally nerveless but 
 heavier tread. A door opened, closed, and the footsteps 
 descended the stairs. On the landing without they paused 
 for an appreciable time ; but, to Mr. Iglesias' great relief, 
 deciding against attempt of entry, continued their cheer- 
 less progress down to the hall below. Yet, just now 
 Iglesias could have found it in his heart to envy the man, 
 notwithstanding his unsavouriness of attitude and aspect. 
 For in him ambition still stirred. He had still definite 
 work to do, and the hope of eventual fame to support him 
 during the doing of it ; had the triumph of the theatre, the 
 applause of an audience in the white heat of enthusiasm to 
 dream of and strive after. 
 
 " But, for me, nothing," Iglesias repeated, " whether 
 vital as of those far-away southern battle-fields, or ficti- 
 tious and close at hand as of the stage. Not even the sting 
 of poverty to whet appetite and give an edge to bodily
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 185 
 
 
 hunger. Nothing, either of fear or of hope. The measure 
 of my obscurity is the measure of my immunity from 
 change of fortune, bad or good. I am worthless even as 
 food for powder. Danger herself will have none of me, 
 and passes me by." 
 
 With that he raised his hands and let them drop despair- 
 ingly along the arms of the chair again, while the unbidden 
 tears overflowed. For a minute or more he remained thus, 
 weeping silently with bowed head. Then, a movement of 
 self-contempt taking him, he regained his calm, sat upright, 
 brushing away the tears. 
 
 And it was as though, in thus regaining a clearer phys- 
 ical vision, he regained a clearer mental vision likewise. 
 Purpose asserted itself as against mere blind acquiescence. 
 Iglesias looked up, demanding as of right some measure of 
 consolation, some object promising help. So doing, his 
 eyes sought a certain carven oak panel set in an ebony 
 frame. From his earliest childhood he remembered it, for 
 it had hung in his mother's bedchamber; and in those far- 
 away years, while she still had sufficient force to disregard 
 opposition and make an open practice of prayer, she had 
 kneeled before it when engaged in her devotions. Waking 
 at night when as a baby-child, during his father's long 
 absences, he slept in her room Dominic had often seen the 
 delicate kneeling figure, wrapped in some loose-flowing gar- 
 ment, the hands outstretched in supplication. Even then, 
 in the first push of conscious intelligence, the carven 
 picture had spoken to him as something masterful, for all 
 its rigidity and sadness, and very strong to help. It had 
 given him a sense of protection and security, so that his 
 little soul was satisfied; and he could go to sleep again in 
 peace, sure that his mother was in safe keeping while as 
 he said she " talked to it." In the long interval which 
 had elapsed since then he had lost touch with the spirit of 
 it, though preserving it as among the most cherished of
 
 186 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 his family relics. His appreciation of it had become 
 aesthetic rather than religious. But now, as it hung on 
 the dimly white wall above his writing-table on the window 
 side of the fireplace, the dreary London afternoon light 
 took the surface of it, bringing all the details of the scene 
 into prominence. Suddenly, unexpectedly, the old power 
 declared itself. The picture came alive as to the inten- 
 tion and meaning of it. It spoke to him once again, and 
 that with no uncertain voice. 
 
 Three tall narrow crosses uplifted against a cloudless 
 sky. Below, a multitude of men, women, and horses, 
 carved in varying degrees of relief. Some starting into 
 bold defmiteness, some barely indicated and as though im- 
 prisoned in the thickness of the wood ; but all grave, ener- 
 getic, and, whether inspired by compassion or by mockery, 
 fierce. These grouped around a great web of linen up- 
 held by some of them at the four corners, hammock-wise, 
 high at the head, low at the foot wherein lay the corpse 
 of a man in the very flower of his age, of heroic propor- 
 tions, spare yet muscular, long and finely angular of limb, 
 the articulations notably slender, the head borne proudly 
 though bent, the features severely beautiful, the whole 
 virile, indomitable even in the physical abjection of death. 
 
 In this Spanish presentment of the closing act of the 
 Divine Tragedy the sensuous pagan element, which mars 
 too many otherwise admirable works of religious art, was 
 absent. Its appeal was to the intellect rather than to the 
 emotions, inculcating effort rather than inviting any senti- 
 mental passion of pity. Its message was that of conquest, 
 of iron self-mastery and self-restraint. This was bracing 
 and courage-begetting even when viewed from the exclu- 
 sively artistic standpoint. But now not merely the pre- 
 sentment of the event held Iglesias' attention, but the event 
 presented, the thing in itself. His heart and intelligence 
 grasped the meaning of it, not only as a matter of supreme
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 187 
 
 // p 
 
 historic interest in view of its astonishing influence upon 
 
 human development during the last two thousand years ; 
 but as an ever-present reality, as an exposition of the 
 Absolute, of that which everlastingly has been, and ever- 
 lastingly will be, and hence of incalculable and immediate 
 importance to himself. It spoke to him of no vague and 
 general truth ; but of a truth intimate and individual, com- 
 ing to him as the call to enter upon a personal inheritance. 
 Of obedience to the dictates of natural religion, and faith- 
 ful practice of the pieties of it, Dominic Iglesias had, all 
 his life, been a remarkable if unconscious exponent. But 
 this awakening of the spirit to the actualities of super- 
 natural religion, this crossing of that dark immensity of 
 space which appears to interpose between Almighty God 
 and the mind of man, was new to him. He had sought a 
 language of the soul which might effect an adjustment 
 between the exterior and interior life. Here, in the Word 
 made Flesh, with reverent amazement he found it. He had 
 sought it through the instrumentality of the things of 
 time and sense; and they, though full with promise, had 
 proved illusory. He had fixed his hope on relation to the 
 creature. But here, all the while, close beside him, waiting 
 till the scales should fall from his eyes and he should see 
 and understand, had stood the Creator. Fair, very fair 
 while it lasted was human friendship. But here, had he 
 but strength and daring to meet it, was a friendship in- 
 finitely fairer, immutable, eternal namely, the friendship 
 of Almighty God. 
 
 The easterly wind still cried in the window-sashes, harsh 
 and shattering. The branches of the exiled cedar tree 
 sawed upon one another, uttering their long-drawn com- 
 plaint. The voices of the newsboys, hoarse and raucous, 
 shouting their sinister message, still came and went. The 
 livid light of the winter afternoon grew more dreary as it 
 sank into, and was absorbed by, the deepening dusk. But
 
 188 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 to Dominic Iglesias these things had ceased to matter. 
 Dazzled, enchanted, confounded, alike by the magnitude 
 and the simplicity of his discovery, he remained gazing at 
 the carven panel ; gazing through and beyond it to that of 
 which it was the medium and symbol, gazing, clear-eyed 
 and fearlessly, away to the far horizon radiant with the 
 surpassing glory of the Uncreated Light.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE Black Week had just ended; but the humiliation of it 
 lay, as a dead weight, upon the heart of London. Three 
 crushing reverses in eight days Stormberg, Magersfon- 
 tein, and finally Colenso ! There was no getting rid of the 
 facts, or the meaning of them in respect of incapacity, 
 blundering, and reckless waste of personal valour. It was 
 a sorry tale, and one over which Europe at large chuckled. 
 It has been universally assumed that the English are a 
 serious nation. This is an error. They are not serious, 
 but indifferent, a nation of individualists, each mainly, not 
 to say exclusively, occupied with his own private affairs. 
 With the vast majority unity of sentiment is suspect, and 
 patriotism a passive rather than an active virtue. But at 
 this juncture, under the stress of repeated disaster, unity 
 of sentiment and patriotism that is, a sense of the national 
 honour and necessity for the vindication of it became 
 strongly evident. London was profoundly and visibly 
 moved. Not with excitement that came later, manifest- 
 ing itself in hysterical outcries of relief but with a grim 
 anger and sadness of astonishment that such things could 
 indeed be. Strangers, passing in the street, looked one 
 another in the eyes questioningly, a common anxiety forg- 
 ing unexpected bonds of kinship. The town was curiously 
 hushed, as though listening, always listening, for those 
 ugly messages rushed so perpetually by cable from over- 
 seas. Men's faces were strained by the effort to hear, and, 
 hearing, to judge justly the extent and the bearings of 
 both national and individual damage. Already mourning 
 struck a sensible note in women's dress. If the Little Eng- 
 lander capered, he was careful to do so at home, or in meet- 
 
 189
 
 190 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 ing-places frequented only by persons likeminded with him- 
 self. It may be questioned whether he is not ever most 
 courageous when under covert thus ; since shooting out of 
 windows or from behind hedges would appear to be his in- 
 herent, and not particularly gallant, notion of sport. The 
 newsboys alone openly and blatantly rejoiced, dominating 
 the situation as on Derby Day or Boat-race Night and 
 putting a gilded dome to the horror by yelling highly 
 seasoned lies when truth proved insufficiently evil to stimu- 
 late custom to the extent of his desires. Depression, as 
 of storm, permeated the social atmosphere. Churches were 
 full, places of amusement comparatively empty. To 
 laugh seemed an indiscretion trenching on indecency. 
 
 Amid surrounding bravery of imperial purple, cream- 
 colour, and gold, Poppy St. John sat at the extreme end 
 of the first row of balcony stalls in the newly opened 
 Twentieth Century Theatre. This was a calm and se- 
 cluded spot, since the partition, dividing off the boxes, 
 flanked it on the right. Partly on this account Poppy had 
 selected it. Partly, also, because it afforded an excellent 
 view of the left of the stage; and it was on the left 
 looking from the body of the house that the principal 
 action of the piece, as far as Dot Parris's part was con- 
 cerned, took place. Poppy was unattended. She wanted 
 an evening's rest, an evening free of conversation and 
 effort ; but she wanted something to look at, too, something 
 affording just sufficient emotional stimulus to keep impor- 
 tunate thought at bay. This the theatre supplied. It had 
 ceased long ago to tire her. She knew the ways of it from 
 both sides of the footlights uncommonly well, and loved 
 them indifferently much. She was a shrewd and cynical 
 critic. Nevertheless, to go to the play was a sort of going 
 home to her a home neither very socially nor morally 
 exalted, perhaps, but one offering the advantages of per- 
 fect familiarity.
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 191 
 
 Huddled in a black velvet fur-lined sacque, reaching to 
 her feet and abundantly trimmed with jet embroidery and 
 black lace, she settled herself in her place. The soft fur 
 was cosey against her bare neck. She felt chilly. Later 
 she might peel, thereby exhibiting the values of the rest 
 of her costume. But it was not worth while to do so yet. 
 The first piece was over, but the house was still a poor one. 
 It might fill up. She hoped it would for Dot's sake; for 
 few things are more disheartening than to play to empty 
 benches. But, at present, the audience was altogether too 
 sparse for it to be worth while to sacrifice comfort to effect. 
 In point of fact, Poppy was cold from sheer fatigue. For 
 the last month, to employ her own rather variegated 
 phraseology, she had racketed, had persistently and per- 
 tinaciously been " going the pace." No doubt they do 
 these things better in France ; yet, as she reflected, provided 
 you are unhampered by prejudice, are fairly in funds and 
 know the ropes, even grimy fog-bound London is, in this 
 particular connection, by no means to be sneezed at. And 
 truly Poppy's autobiography during the said month would 
 have made extremely merry reading, amounting in some 
 aspects to a positive classic though of the kind hardly 
 suited as a basis of instruction for the pupils of a young 
 ladies' school. Setting aside adventures of a more ques- 
 tionable character, a positively alarming good luck had 
 pursued her, everything she touched turning to gold. 
 Even in this hour of financial depression the market fa- 
 voured her both in buying and selling. If she put money 
 on a horse, that horse was sure to win. If she played 
 cards and she had played pretty constantly- she inevi- 
 tably plundered her opponents. This last alone, of all 
 her doubtful doings, really troubled her; for her oppo- 
 nents had frequently been youthful, and it was con- 
 trary to Poppy's principles to pluck the but half-fledged 
 chick.
 
 192 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 Barring this solitary deflection from her somewhat 
 latitudinarian code of ethics, she had, on the face of it, 
 ample cause for self-congratulation. Never had she been 
 more gaily audacious in word or deed. Never had she been 
 better company, keeping her audience an almost exclu- 
 sively masculine one in a roar, all the louder perhaps be- 
 cause of inward defiance of the news from over-seas, the 
 humiliation of which had now culminated in the disasters 
 of the Black Week. Flame only shows the brighter for a 
 sombre background. And Poppy, during this ill-starred 
 period, had been as a flame to her admirers and associates 
 a fitful, prankish flame, full of provocation and bedevil- 
 ment, the light of it inciting to all manner of wild doings, 
 and, in the end, not infrequently scorching those pretty 
 shrewdly who were over-bold in warming themselves at the 
 heat of it. For fires of the sort lighted by Poppy are not 
 precisely such as contribute to the peace and security of 
 the domestic hearth. 
 
 But now she was tired. The fun seemed fun no longer ; 
 so that, notwithstanding her successes, she found herself 
 a prey to dissatisfaction, discontent, and a disposition to 
 recall all the less happy episodes of her varied career. She 
 yawned quite loudly, as she laid opera-glasses and play-bill 
 upon the velvet cushion in front of her, and pulled the 
 soft fur-lined garment up closer about her shoulders. 
 
 " The first act's safe to be poorish anyhow, and Dot 
 does not come on till just the end of it. I wonder if I 
 dare go to sleep ? " she asked herself, gently rubbing her 
 eyes. " It would be awfully nice to forget the whole 
 blooming show, past, present, and to come, for a little 
 while and plunge in the waters of oblivion. Oblivion with 
 a capital O a dose of that's what I want. Beautiful 
 roomy consolation-stakes of a word, oblivion, if one could 
 only believe in the existence of it which, unluckily, some- 
 how I can't."
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 193 
 
 Here the strains of the orchestra ceased. The lights 
 were turned low in the body of the house. The curtain 
 went up. As it did so a cold draught drew from regions 
 behind the stage, laden with that indefinable odour of gas, 
 glue, humanity, flagged stair and alleyways, paint, canvas, 
 carpentry, and underground places the sun never pene- 
 trates, which haunts the working part of every theatre. 
 Poppy smiled as she snuffed it, with a queer mingling of 
 enjoyment and repulsion. For as is the smell of ocean to 
 the seafarer, of mother-earth to the peasant, of incense to 
 the priest, so is the smell of the theatre to the player. 
 Nature may revolt; but the spell holds. Once an actor 
 always an actor. The mark of the calling is indelible. 
 Even to the third and fourth generation there is no rub- 
 bing it out. 
 
 " I suppose it would have been wiser if I had stuck to 
 the profession," Poppy commented to herself. " I should 
 have been a leading lady by now, drawing my thirty to 
 forty pounds a week. I had the root of the matter in me. 
 Have it still, worse luck; for it's the sort of root which 
 asserts its continued existence by aching at times like that 
 of a broken tooth. It was a wrench to give it all up. But 
 then those rotten plays of his, inflated impossible stuff, 
 which would never act couldn't act! and I carrying 
 them round to manager after manager and using all the 
 gentle arts I knew to get them accepted. Oh! it was very 
 dignified, it was very pretty ! And then his perpetual per- 
 secutions for money, his jealousy and spite, and his fine 
 feelings, his infernal superiority yes, that was what 
 really did the job. Flesh and blood couldn't stand it. To 
 prove to a woman, at three meals daily, that she couldn't 
 hold a candle to you in birth, or brains, or education ; and 
 then expect her to slave for you and make it jolly hot 
 for her if she didn't, too while you sat at home and 
 caressed the delusion of your own heaven-born genius in
 
 194 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 the only decently comfortable chair in the house! No, it 
 was not good enough that it was not." 
 
 Poppy surveyed the stage, unseeing, her great eyes 
 wide with unlovely memories. 
 
 " I wonder what's become of him," she said presently, 
 " He hasn't dunned me for months. Has he found some 
 other poor wretch to bleed? Must have, I imagine, for 
 he always declared he was on the edge of starvation. 
 Supposing that was true, though supposing he has 
 starved ? " 
 
 Her thought sank away into a wordless reverie of the 
 dreariest description. Suddenly she roused herself, clench- 
 ing her hands in her lap. 
 
 " Well, supposing he has, what does it matter to me ? 
 If ever a man deserved to starve, he did, vain, lazy, 
 cowardly, self-seeking jackal of a fellow. Why in the 
 name of reason should I trouble about him specially 
 to-night? But then why, whenever I am a bit done, 
 does the remembrance of him always come back ? " 
 
 Poppy yawned again, staring blankly at the persons 
 on the stage, hearing the sound of their speech but know- 
 ing only the sense of her own thought. 
 
 "Why? Because it's like him, because it's altogether 
 in the part. He was always on the watch for his oppor- 
 tunity; wheedling or blackguarding, directly he saw one 
 had no fight left in one, till he got his own way." 
 
 She leaned forward, resting her hands on the Velvet 
 cushion. 
 
 " I am confoundedly tired," she said. " All the came, 
 it's rather horrible. If the thing came over again, which 
 mercifully it can't, I should do precisely the same as I 
 did. And yet I'm never quite sure which of us was really 
 in the right. And, therefore, I suppose just as long as I 
 live, whenever I'm dished as I am to-night I shall work
 
 THE PAR HORIZON 195 
 
 v/ 
 
 the whole hateful business through again, and the remem- 
 brance of him will always come back." 
 
 She pushed the soft heavy masses of hair up from her 
 forehead with both hands. 
 
 " In the main it was your own fault, de Courcy Smyth, 
 and you know that it was. Most women would not have 
 held out nearly as long as I did. So lie quiet. Let me be. 
 Starve, if you've got as far on the downgrade as that. 
 What do I care? I owe you nothing. You never gave me 
 a child. So starve, if you must yes, starve," she said. 
 
 Then she gathered herself back into her stall. Her 
 expression changed. 
 
 " Ah, there's Dot. They're giving her a reception. 
 Bless them how awfully sweet! Hurrah for poor little 
 Dot ! " Her hands went up to applaud. And for the en- 
 suing ten minutes her fatigue was forgotten. She became 
 absorbed in the action of the piece.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 DOT PARRIS earned a recall at the end of the first act, 
 conquering by sheer force of personality that gloomy and 
 half-hearted audience. And Poppy St. John among 
 whose many faults lack of generosity certainly could not 
 be counted standing up, leaned right out over the velvet- 
 cushioned barrier of the dress circle, crying " Brava ! " 
 and clapping her hands. To achieve the latter demonstra- 
 tion with befitting resonance she had stripped off her 
 gloves. Then as the lights were turned up and the cur- 
 tain swung into place, she proceeded to further strip- 
 ping namely, that of her black embroidered sacque, which 
 she threw across the back of the empty stall beside her, 
 thereby revealing a startling costume. For she was clothed 
 in rose-scarlet from shoulder to foot ; and that without orna- 
 ment of any description to break up the daring uniformity 
 of colour, save the stiff upstanding black aigrette in her 
 hair, tipped with diamond points which flashed and glit- 
 tered as she moved. The soft mousseline-de-soie of which 
 her dress was made swathed her figure, cross-wise, without 
 apparent fastening, moulding it to the turn of the hips. 
 Thence the skirt flowed down in a froth of rose-scarlet 
 gaugings and fluted frills, which trailed behind her far. 
 The bodice was cut in a deep V back and front, showing 
 her bare neck. Her arms were bare, too, from the elbow. 
 Her skin, somewhat sallow by day, took on a delicate 
 ivory whiteness under the electric light. By accident or 
 design she had omitted to tinge her cheeks to-night; and 
 the even pallor of her face emphasised the largeness of her, 
 eyes luminous, just now, with sympathy and enthusiasm. 
 For the artist in Poppy dominated all else, vibrant and( 
 
 196
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 197 
 
 v/ 
 
 alert. The glamour of the actor's life was upon her; the 
 seamy side of it forgotten its unworthy rivalries and 
 bickerings, the slangings and prolonged weariness of re- 
 hearsals, its many disappointments, heart-burnings, and 
 sordid shifts. These were as though they were not; so 
 that the stage called her, even as the sea calls one, and 
 mother-earth another, and religion a third. 
 
 "Pou-ah! aren't I just hot, though!" she said, half 
 aloud, as she flung off her sacque. " And what a change- 
 ling imp of a creature Dot is, after all ! An imp of genius 
 well, she's every right to that, as one knows when one 
 looks at James Colthurst's pictures. He'd genius. He 
 didn't shirk living. My stars ! there was a man capable 
 of adding to the number of one's emotions ! And she's 
 inherited his gifts on her own lines. What a voice, what 
 gestures! She is as clever as she can stick. Oh! she's a 
 real j oy of a demon of a thing, bless her ; and she's nothing 
 like come to her full strength yet." 
 
 Then growing aware that she herself and her vivid 
 attire were beginning to attract more attention than, in 
 the interests of a quiet evening, she desired, Poppy sub- 
 sided languidly into her stall, and, picking up her opera- 
 glasses, slowly surveyed the occupants of the house. 
 
 There to begin with was Bobby Saville in the second 
 row of the stalls, flanked on either hand by a contingent 
 of followers. His round dark head and the set of his 
 tremendous shoulders were unmistakable. Saville was 
 very far from being a model young man, yet Poppy had 
 a soft spot in her heart for this aristocratic bruiser and 
 bravo. His constancy to Dot Parris was really touching. 
 With a dog-like faithfulness and docility, this otherwise 
 most turbulent of his sex had followed the object of his 
 affections from music-hall to comic opera, from comic 
 opera to the high places of legitimate drama. And Dot 
 ^paeanwhile remained serenely invulnerable, tricking and
 
 198 THE FAR HORIZON* 
 
 mocking her high-born heavy-weight lover, telling him 
 cheerfully she really had no use for him, though his inten- 
 tions were strictly honourable. Twenty-five years hence, 
 she added, when he was an elderly peer, and she had begun 
 to grow broad in the beam, and the public had begun to 
 grow tired of her, she might perhaps contemplate the 
 thraldom of wedlock. But not yet awhile no, thank you. 
 Her art held all her love, satisfied all her passions ; she had 
 none to waste upon mankind. Two days hence, as Poppy 
 knew, Bobby Saville would sail for South Africa, to offer 
 an extensive target to Boer bullets. He had come to bid 
 farewell, to-night, to the obdurate object of his affections. 
 And his followers some of whom were also bound for the 
 seat of war had come to support him during those 
 pathetic proceedings. 
 
 In the boxes she recognised more than one woman whose 
 rank or riches had rendered her appearance common prop- 
 erty through the medium of the illustrated papers. But 
 upon these social favourites she bestowed scant scrutiny. 
 To her they did not matter, since she had a comfortable 
 conviction that, given their chances, she might safely have 
 backed herself to beat them at their own game. One large 
 and gentle-looking lady did attract her, by the innocence 
 of her mild eyes set noticeably wide apart, and by the 
 beauty of her small mouth. Her light brown hair, touched 
 with grey, rippled back from her low forehead under a 
 drapery of delicate lace. She was calm, yet there was an 
 engaging timidity in her aspect as she sheltered behind 
 the farther curtain of the box. Beside her sat a young 
 girl, white-clad, deliciously fresh in appearance, an ex- 
 pression of happy half-shy expectation upon her charming 
 face. Behind them, in the shadow, kindly, handsome, 
 debonnair, stood Lord Fallowfeild. His resemblance to 
 the large and gentle lady declared them brother and sister. 
 Poppy St. John watched the little party with a movement
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 199 
 
 of tenderness. She perceived that they were very fond of 
 one another; moreover they were so delightfully simple in 
 bearing and manner, so excellently well-bred. But of what 
 was the pretty maiden so shyly expectant? Of something, 
 or somebody, far more immediately interesting to her than 
 players or play so Poppy judged. 
 
 Turning from the contemplation of these pleasant 
 people with a sigh she could hardly have explained even 
 to herself Poppy swept the dress circle with her opera- 
 glasses. Presently she paused, and with a lift of surprise 
 looked steadily again, then let both hands and glasses drop 
 upon her rose-scarlet lap. Four rows up and back, on 
 the far side, in a stall next the stepped gang-way, a man 
 sat. His face was turned away, his shoulder being towards 
 her, as he leaned sideways talking to the woman beside him 
 a slender, faded, yet elegant person of uncertain age, 
 dressed in fluffy black. In the seat beyond, also leaning 
 forward and taking part in the conversation, was another 
 man of so whimsical an appearance as very nearly to make 
 Poppy laugh aloud. She would unquestionably have done 
 so had she been at leisure ; but she was not at leisure. Her 
 eyes travelled back to the figure beside the gang-way, 
 which intrigued both her interest and her memory. Tall, 
 spare, faultlessly dressed, yet with an effect of something 
 exotic, aloof, unusual about him, he provoked her curiosity 
 with suggestions of times and places quite other than of 
 the present. 
 
 " Who is it ? " Poppy said to herself. " Surely I know 
 him. Who the dickens is it ? " 
 
 The conversation ceased. The man drew himself up, 
 turned his head; and Poppy gave a little choking cry, as 
 she found herself staring Dominic Iglesias straight in the 
 face. 
 
 Whether he recognised her she did not know, did not 
 want to know just yet. For she needed a minute or two
 
 200 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 to reckon with the position. It was so wholly unexpected. 
 It affected her more deeply than she could have anticipated. 
 Not without amusement she realised that she had never, 
 heretofore, quite bejieved in him as an ordinary mortal, 
 who ate and drank, went to plays, had relations with human 
 beings other than herself, and conducted himself generally 
 on the commonplace lines of modern humanity. There- 
 fore to see him under existing circumstances was, in a 
 sense, a shock to her. She did not like it. Absurd and 
 unreasonable though it undoubtedly was to feel it so, yet 
 his presence here struck her as in a way unseemly, deroga- 
 tory. She had never thought of him in this connection, 
 and it took a little time to get accustomed to this aspect of 
 him. Then she discovered, with half -humorous annoyance, 
 that she was called upon to get accustomed to something 
 else as well namely, to her memories of the past month 
 since she parted from him. For it was undeniable that the 
 said memories took on a queer enough complexion in the 
 light of this sudden encounter with Dominic Iglesias. If 
 an hour ago they had been unsatisfactory, now they were 
 very near odious. And that seemed hardly fair. Poppy 
 turned wicked. 
 
 "For what's the worry, after all?" she asked herself. 
 "Why on earth am I either disappointed or penitent? Is 
 he no better than the rest of us, or am I no worse? And 
 with what am I quarrelling, in any case his being less 
 of a saint, or I less of a sinner than I'd been pleased to 
 imagine? I'm sure I don't know." 
 
 Instinctively her eyes sought that kindly worldling, 
 Lord Fallowfeild. With him at least, as she reflected, 
 one knew exactly where one was, since his feet were 
 always very much upon the floor. But here again dis- 
 comfiture, alas! awaited her. For another person, and 
 evidently a welcome one, had joined that pleasant little 
 party. Standing beside the large and gentle lady, speak-
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 201 
 
 .V 
 
 ing quickly, gaily, his face keen and eager, she beheld 
 Alaric Barking. Lord Fallowfeild, smiling, patted the 
 young man affectionately on the shoulder. And then, with 
 a shudder of pain gnawing right through her, Poppy St. 
 John, glancing at the graceful white-clad maiden, under- 
 stood of whose coming this one had been so sweetly and 
 gladly expectant. 
 
 To the strong there is something exhilarating in all 
 certainty, even certainty of disaster. And it was very 
 characteristic of Poppy that at this juncture no cry 
 came to her lips, no sob to her throat. She shuddered 
 that once, it is true. But then, setting her teeth, the 
 whole daring of her nature rose to the situation, as a 
 high-mettled horse rises to a heavy fence. What lay on 
 the other side of that fence she did not know as yet, nor 
 did she stop to consider. Desperate though it looked, she 
 took it gallantly without fuss or funking. 
 
 " Well, there's no ambiguity about this affair, anyhow," 
 she said grimly. " Of course it had to come sooner or 
 later, and I knew it had to come. Well, here it is, that's 
 all, and there's no use whining. And that's why he's been 
 so jumpy lately: he had a bad conscience. Poor old chap, 
 he must have been having a beastly bad time of it." 
 
 Poppy mused a little. 
 
 " Still, it's a facer," she added, " and a precious nasty 
 one, too." 
 
 She stretched herself, shaking back her head, while the 
 diamond points of her aigrette danced and glittered. Took 
 a deep breath, filling her lungs ; listened to herself, so to 
 speak, noting with satisfaction that neither heart nor pulse 
 fluttered. 
 
 " No serious damage," she commented. " I must have 
 the nerves of a locomotive. Here I am perfectly sound, 
 perfectly sober, standing at the parting of the ways, be- 
 tween the dear old devil of love and the deep sea of friend-
 
 202 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 ship. Poppy Smyth, my good soul, you've always been 
 rather fatally addicted to drama. Are you satisfied at 
 last? For just now, heaven knows, you've jolly well got 
 your fill of it." 
 
 Then, for a space, she sat staring out into the house, 
 thinking hard, intently, yet without words. The future, 
 as she knew, hung in the balance, for herself and for 
 others; but, as yet, she could not decide into which scale 
 to throw the determining weight. Presently she looked 
 steadily at Dominic Iglesias. He was again engaged in 
 conversation, trying, with his air of fine old-world courtesy, 
 suitably to entertain his strangely assorted neighbours. 
 Poppy had an idea he found it rather hard work. She 
 was not in the least sorry. That faded piece of feminine 
 elegance, in fluffy black, bored her. She entertained a 
 malicious hope that the said piece of feminine elegance 
 bored Mr. Iglesias also. Finally, with rather bitter cour- 
 age, she turned her eyes once more upon Lord Fallowfeild 
 and his companions. 
 
 " Poor little girl, poor little girl," she said, quite gently, 
 " so that's your heaven on earth, is it? I'm afraid a 
 mighty big crop of wild oats is on show in your Garden 
 of Eden. Still to you, apparently, it is a blissful place 
 enough. Only the question is, do I intend to relinquish my 
 rights in that particular property and make it over to you 
 in fee simple, my pretty baby, or do I not? Shall I give 
 it you, or shall I keep it ? For it is mine to give or to keep 
 still very much mine, if I choose to make a fight for it, I 
 fancy." 
 
 Yet even as she communed thus with herself, the white- 
 clad maiden and the other occupants of the box became 
 indistinct and shadowy. The buzz of conversation in the 
 theatre had ceased; so had the strains of the orchestra. 
 The lights had been turned low and the curtain had risen 
 upon the second act.
 
 THE F'AR HORIZON 203 
 
 y 
 
 About half-way through that act Poppy St. John got 
 up, threw her velvet sacque over her arm, and, slipping 
 past the three intervening stalls, made her way up the 
 steps of the near gang-way to the swing-doors opening 
 out to the couloir. Her movements, though studiously 
 quiet, were, owing to the vivid hue of her attire, very per- 
 ceptible even in the penumbra of the dress circle, provoking 
 attention and smothered comment. The lady in fluffy 
 black, for example, followed her with glances of undis- 
 guised and condemnatory interest, finally calling the at- 
 tention of both her cavaliers to the progress of this glowing 
 figure. 
 
 The New Century Theatre is one of those enterprises of 
 trans-Atlantic origin, undertaken with the praiseworthy 
 and disinterested object of teaching the Old World " how 
 to do it," and is built and furnished regardless of expense. 
 The couloirs are wide, lofty, richly carpeted ; the walls of 
 them encrusted with pale highly polished marbles, pilasters 
 of which, with heavily gilded capitals, flank vast panels 
 of looking-glass. The moulded ceilings are studded with 
 electric lights, the glare of which is agreeably softened by 
 pineapple-shaped globes of crystal glass. The scheme of 
 colour, ranging from imperial purple through crimson 
 and rose-pink to softest flesh tints, formed an harmonious 
 setting to the rose-scarlet of Poppy's dress, with its froth 
 of trailing frills and flounces, as she stood discoursing to 
 a smart, black-gowned, white-aproned box-keeper. 
 
 " You understand, fourth row on the left, next the 
 gang-way? Tell him a lady wishes particularly to speak 
 to him between the acts. Then bring him to me here." 
 
 " Yes, madam, I quite understand," the young person 
 replied, with much intelligence, scenting something in the 
 shape of an adventure. 
 
 Poppy moved across and sat down on one of the wide 
 divans, and so doing began to know, once more, how very
 
 204 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 tired she was. A new tiredness seemed, indeed, to have 
 been added to the original one. That first was, at worst, 
 bored and irritable. This was of a different, a more sad 
 and intimate character. 
 
 " I feel as if I had been beaten all over," she said to 
 herself. "Well, perhaps that's just what it is. I have 
 been beaten. I wish I could sleep. Oh ! dear, oh ! dear, how 
 I wish I could sleep." 
 
 Her thought fell away into the vague, the inarticulate, 
 though she did not sleep. Still there was a temporary 
 suspension of volition, of conscious mental activity, which, 
 in a degree, rested her. Persons, passing now and again, 
 looked with curiosity at the brilliant figure, and inscrutable 
 eyes in the dead-white face. The smart box-keeper, moved 
 by some instinct of pity, came back more than once, finally 
 offering one of those unwholesome-looking cups of coffee 
 and boxes of chocolate of which so few have the requisite 
 audacity to partake. Poppy roused herself sufficiently to 
 reject these terrible delicacies, while smiling at the con- 
 veyor of them. Then she relapsed into the vague again, 
 and waited, just waited. 
 
 " There's the end of the act, madam," the young woman 
 remarked at last encouragingly. 
 
 " All right," Poppy answered. " Go straight away and 
 bring the gentleman here to me. I'm in a hurry. I want 
 to get home." 
 
 The glass doors of the exits swished back and forth, 
 letting out the confused stir and murmur of the house, let- 
 ting out a crowd of men as well. And the aspect the 
 said crowd presented to Poppy's overstrained nerves and 
 exalted sensibility was repulsive. For it suggested to her 
 a flight of gigantic black locusts, strong-jawed, pink- 
 faced, and white-breasted, driven forth by a common 
 hunger, rather cruelly active and intent. Her sense of 
 humour was in abeyance, as was her usually triumphant
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 205 
 
 ./ 
 
 common sense; so that her thought, going behind appear- 
 ances and the sane interpretation of them, declined to that 
 fundamental region in which the root laws of animal life 
 become hideously bare and distinct. Out of the deep 
 places of her own womanhood a hatred towards this crowd 
 of men arose; that secular enmity which exists between 
 the -sexes asserting itself and, for the time being, obscuring 
 both reason and justice. For upon what, as she asked 
 herself bitterly, when all is said and done, do these male 
 human locusts pasture, save on the souls and bodies of 
 women, finding a garden before them, and, too often, leav- 
 ing but a desert behind? Sex as sex became abhorrent to 
 her, its penalties unpardonable, its pleasures as loathsome 
 as its sins. 
 
 But from the black-coated throng the trim figure of 
 the box-keeper just then detached itself; and a moment 
 later Poppy, looking up, beheld Dominic Iglesias standing 
 before her.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 " You sent for me, so I have come," Iglesias said, for 
 Poppy St. John, usually so voluble, just now appeared 
 speechless. 
 
 From the moment he had become aware of her presence 
 in the theatre, Dominic had been sensible that she presented 
 herself under a new aspect. Of the many different Poppys 
 he had seen, this was by far the most powerful and dra- 
 matic. She stood out from the rest of the audience as 
 some splendid tropic flower stands out from a thick-set 
 mass of foliage, conspicuous in form and colour and in 
 promise. There were handsome women, smart women, 
 beautifully dressed women in plenty, but Poppy did not 
 shade in with all these, making but part of a general 
 effect. She remained unique, solitary ; and this not merely 
 on account of her vivid raiment. The effect of her told 
 upon the mind quite as much as upon the sight. Yet she 
 did not look out of place. She looked, indeed, preem- 
 inently at home. Out of doors, in the country sunshine, 
 she had struck Dominic as a slight creature, unreal and 
 fictitious. Here, amid highly artificial and conventional 
 surroundings, she seemed to him the most natural and vital 
 being present, retaining the completeness of her individual- 
 ity, the energy and mystery of it alike, almost aggressively 
 evident and untouched. Iglesias ceased to consider her in 
 relation to his and her broken friendship, or in relation to 
 that which he so reluctantly divined of her private life. 
 He contemplated her in herself, finding an element of 
 things primitive in her, which commanded his admiration, 
 though it failed, so far, to touch his heart. And if this 
 was the impression he received seeing her at a comparative 
 
 SOS
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 207 
 
 distance, that impression was greatly intensified seeing her 
 now at close quarters. The contrast between the subtle 
 softness and the flare as of a conflagration of her dress, 
 the weariness of her attitude, and the unfathomable melan- 
 choly of her eyes, stirred him profoundly. 
 
 " Yes," she answered quietly, almost coldly, " I know 
 I snt. This was about the last place I should have ex- 
 pected to run across you. I flattered myself I was safe 
 enough here. I didn't wish to meet you one little bit. 
 Still, when I did see you, I wanted you. You're the most 
 plaguey impossible person to rid oneself of somehow " 
 her voice and manner softened a little " so I sent for you. 
 I don't know why, because now I've got you I seem to have 
 changed my mind. I have nothing to say." 
 
 " I can easily go," Iglesias remarked gravely. 
 
 " No, no, no," she replied, " why should you hurry ? 
 I'm sure those two freaks you're herding the beetle turned 
 hind-side before and the withered leaf can't be frantically 
 interesting. And I like to look at you. I never saw you 
 before in evening dress, and you're more grand seigneur 
 than ever. But something's happened to you. I can't 
 tell off-hand what it is, whether you've come on or gone 
 back. But you're altered." 
 
 " I have had an illness," Iglesias said simply ; " and I 
 have been very unhappy." 
 
 " Neither of those are good enough," Poppy answered. 
 " The alteration is right inside you, in your soul. But 
 you're well again now? " she added. 
 
 " Yes, I am well again now." 
 
 " And you're no longer unhappy ? " 
 
 " No," he said. " I am sad, for life is sad ; but I am 
 no longer unhappy." 
 
 " That's a nice distinction," Poppy put in, with a rather 
 scornful inflection. "What's cured your unhappiness? 
 Not an affair of the heart? Please don't tell me it's any-
 
 208 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 thing to do with a woman, for I warn you I'm awfully off 
 the affections to-night." 
 
 " You can make yourself quite easy on that point," 
 Dominic said with a lift of the head, his native pride 
 asserting itself. 
 
 " Ah ! that's more like old times ! " Poppy's voice soft- 
 ened again, so did the expression of her face. " Suppose 
 you sit down, dear lunatic. This wait is a long one, I 
 know. Dot Parris told me it was. Let the freaks play 
 about together for a little. It will do them good. And 
 I find I wanted you rather more than I knew at first. I'm 
 beginning to have something to say after all. Words, 
 only words, perhaps ; still it's a soulagement to sit here with 
 you like this." The corners of Poppy's mouth drooped 
 and quivered. " I'm having an infernally bad time ; and 
 there's worse ahead." 
 
 " I am sorry. I am grieved," Iglesias said. For the 
 charm had begun to work again, and friendship, as he 
 began to know, although broken-winged, was very far 
 from dead. 
 
 " We won't talk about that," she put in, " or I might 
 make a fool of myself. Dear man, I think I'd better go 
 home. I'm awfully tired. Still, I'm better for seeing you." 
 She stood up. " Just help me on with my coat. Thanks 
 that's right. Oh ! I say, there are the freaks on the prowl, 
 looking for you ! " Poppy's tragic eyes turned naughty, 
 malicious, gay even for a moment. " What sport ! " she 
 said " unhappy freaks ! The withered leaf has inten- 
 tions. I see that. She'd like to eat me without salt. 
 Don't marry her promise me you won't. Ah! heavenly, 
 heavenly," she cried. " I need no promises, bless you. Your 
 face is quite enough. Wretched withered leaf ! But look 
 here," she went on, as she gathered the soft warm garment 
 about her, " I'm tired of your incognito. Give me your
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 209 
 
 cardl I may want you again. So let me have your name 
 and address." 
 
 And Iglesias giving it to her as she requested, she studied 
 it for a minute silently. Then she turned away. 
 
 " I want nothing more. Don't come down with me. 
 One of the boys will get me a hansom. I'd rather be alone ; 
 so just go back to your flabbergasted freaks, beloved and 
 no-longer-nameless one," she said.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 THIN sunshine slanted in through the lace curtains of 
 the dining-room window. Encouraged thereby, the parrot 
 preened its feathers, making little snapping and clicking 
 noises meanwhile with its tongue and beak. The grass of 
 the Green, seen between the black stems of the encircling 
 trees, glittered with hoarfrost, while the houses on the 
 opposite side of it looked flat and featureless owing to the 
 interposing veil of bluish mist. Tradesmen's carts clat- 
 tered by at a sharp trot, the defined sound of them break- 
 ing up the all-pervading murmur of London, and dying 
 out into it again as they passed. At the street corner, 
 some twenty yards away, a German band discoursed doubt- 
 fully sweet music, the trombone making earnest efforts to 
 keep the rest of the instruments up to their work by the 
 emission of loud and reproachful tootings. It was a pleas- 
 ant and cheery morning as December mornings go, yet 
 constraint reigned at the Lovegrove breakfast-table. 
 
 The day of Serena's oft-discussed departure had dawned. 
 A few hours hence she would remove herself and her boxes 
 to her cousin Lady Samuelson's residence in Ladbroke 
 Square. This should have proved a source of regret to 
 her host and hostess; and they were conscience-stricken, 
 confessing to themselves though not to one another, since 
 each accredited the other with more laudable sentiments 
 than his or her own that relief rather than regret did 
 actually possess them. A secret from one another, and 
 that a slightly discreditable one, was so foreign to the 
 experience of the excellent couple that it lay heavy upon 
 their hearts. Each, moreover, was aware of shame in the 
 presence of Serena, as in that of a person upon whom they 
 
 210
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 .:' 
 
 had inflicted an injury. Hence constraint, which the sun- 
 shine was powerless to dissipate. 
 
 " May I pass you the eggs, or bacon, or both, Serena? " 
 George Lovegrove inquired, his childlike blue eyes mean- 
 while humbly imploring pardon for his lack of sorrow at 
 her impending departure. Serena's manner was stiff and 
 abstracted. This, combined with the rustling of her petti- 
 coats, filled him with anxiety. Was it possible that she 
 knew ? 
 
 " Thank you, George, only an egg. Not that one, 
 please, it is much too large. I prefer the smallest. I am 
 not feeling hungry." 
 
 " I should never call you much of a breakfast-eater, 
 Serena," Mrs. Lovegrove observed in her comfortable pur- 
 ring voice, from behind the tea-urn. She was desirous to 
 pacify her guest. " Now I am rather hearty myself in 
 the morning, always have been so. I do not know whether 
 it is a good thing or not, as a habit. Still, I think to-day 
 you should force yourself a little. You should always 
 make provision against a journey. And then no doubt 
 you are rather fatigued with packing and getting home 
 so late from the theatre. I am pleased to think you had 
 an outing your last night here, Serena. Georgie tells me 
 the play was very comical." 
 
 " I dare say it was," Serena replied. " Of course George 
 would be a much better judge of that than I am. Mamma 
 was always very particular what we heard and saw when 
 we were children, and I know I am inclined to think things 
 vulgar which other people only find amusing." 
 
 " I did not remark any vulgarity, and do not think 
 Mr. Iglesias would countenance anything of that kind 
 in the presence of a lady. He would ascertain beforehand 
 the nature of the piece to which he invited any lady " 
 this from George Lovegrove tentatively. 
 
 " Oh ! of course I don't say there was anything vulgar.
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 I should not like to commit myself to an opinion. I really 
 have been to the theatre very seldom. Mamma never en- 
 couraged our going. And then, of course, old Dr. Col- 
 thurst, the rector of St. Jude's at Slowby, whose church we 
 always attended, disapproved of the theatre. He had great 
 influence with mamma. And he thought it wicked." 
 
 " Indeed," Mrs. Lovegrove commented. " I should be 
 ^orry to think that, as so many go. But he may have come 
 across the evils of it personally. He had a son, an artist, 
 who was very wild, I believe. And I remember to have 
 heard our dear vicar speak of Dr. Colthurst as stern, but 
 a true Protestant and a very grand preacher." 
 
 " I dare say he was I don't mean that his son was 
 wild- I know nothing about that, of course, but that Dr. 
 Colthurst was a great preacher." 
 
 Serena spoke abstractedly, inspecting the yolk of her 
 poached egg meanwhile as though on the watch for un- 
 pleasant foreign bodies. 
 
 '* But," she continued, " I cannot, of course, be ex- 
 pected to remember his sermons, though I may have been 
 taken to hear him. I suppose I certainly was taken, but I 
 was quite too much of a child to remember. Susan remem- 
 bers them, but then Susan was so very much older." 
 
 She ceased to contemplate her egg, and looked up at 
 her hostess. 
 
 " Susan must be very nearly your age, Rhoda ; or she 
 may be a year or eighteen months younger. Yes, judging 
 by the difference between her age and mine, she must be 
 quite eighteen months younger. Of course, now, Susan 
 thinks going to the play wicked. I often wonder whether 
 that is not partly because she dislikes sitting still and 
 listening when other people are doing something. Susan 
 likes to take part in everything herself. I often wonder 
 what she would do in church if it was not for the responses 
 and the singing. I am sure she would never sit out a
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 213 
 
 j 
 
 service where the congregation did not join in. Susan 
 cannot bear a choral service. She calls it un-English and 
 Romanising. I do not dislike it I mean I do not dislike 
 a choral service. But then I do not consider the theatre 
 wicked. I am not prejudiced against it, as Susan is. Still, 
 I cannot deny that I think you do hear very odd things and 
 see very over-dressed people at the theatre." 
 
 Serena looked severely at her host, thereby heightening 
 the anxiety which possessed him. For once again, as so 
 often during the past eight or ten hours, a picture pre- 
 sented itself perplexing and fascinating to his mental 
 vision namely, that of his dear and honoured friend, the 
 grave and stately Dominic Iglesias, helping an unknown 
 lady, of remarkably attractive personal appearance, on 
 with a wonderful black velvet garment doing so in the 
 calmest way in the world, too, as though it were an event 
 of chronic occurrence while the frills and furbelows of 
 her voluminous skirts flowed in rosy billows about his feet. 
 What did the picture portend, George Lovegrove asked 
 himself, and still more, what did Serena suppose it por- 
 tended ? 
 
 " Do you, indeed? " Mrs. Lovegrove put in, in amiable 
 response to her guest's last remark. She was sensible of 
 being hurt by the allusion to her age. But then Serena 
 was going, and she knew that fact did not distress her as, 
 deeply as it might have done. She therefore rose superior 
 to wounded feelings. " It's many years since I've been 
 much of a playgoer," she continued, " and people tell me 
 it's all a good deal changed, and not for the better. I 
 suppose the dressing nowadays is sadly extravagant. I 
 am sure I don't know, and I should always be timid of con- 
 demning anybody or their amusements. But there, as I 
 always do say, if you want to keep a happy mind there is 
 so much it is well to be ignorant of." 
 
 " I wonder if it is I mean I wonder if it is well to be
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 ignorant of things," Serena said reflectively. " Of course, 
 if people think you are willing to be ignorant, it encour- 
 ages them in deceiving you. I think it is very wrong to 
 be deceitful. Sooner or later it is sure to come out, and 
 then it is very difficult to forgive people. Indeed, I am 
 not sure it is right to forgive them." 
 
 With difficulty George Lovegrove restrained a groan. 
 His food was as ashes in his mouth; his tea as waters of 
 bitterness. 
 
 " Oh ! I should be sorry to go as far as that, Serena," 
 Mrs. Lovegrove remonstrated. " If you give way to un- 
 forgiving feelings you can never tell quite where they may 
 carry you. But as I was going to say, though I am not 
 much of a playgoer, I was very pleased to have Mr. Iglesias 
 invite me. Only, as I explained to him, I am very liable to 
 find the seats too narrow for comfort in places of amuse- 
 ment, and the atmosphere is often so very close, too. He 
 was most polite and sympathising; but then that's Mr. 
 Iglesias all over. He always is the perfect gentleman." 
 
 Serena paused, her fork arrested in mid-transit to her 
 mouth. 
 
 " I am not sure that I agree with you, Rhoda," she said. 
 " I am not sure whether I think Mr. Iglesias is really polite, 
 or whether he only appears to be so because it suits his 
 purpose. Of course you and George know him far better 
 than I do. Perhaps you understand I cannot pretend 
 that I understand him. I may be wrong, but I often won- 
 der whether there is not a good deal which is rather insin- 
 cere about Mr. Iglesias." 
 
 After throwing which bomb, Serena gave her whole at- 
 tention to her breakfast. Usually George Lovegrove would 
 have waxed valiant in defence of his friend, but a guilty 
 conscience held him tongue-tied. Not so Rhoda ; strive as 
 she might, those allusions to her age still rankled. And, 
 under cover of protest against injustice to the absent, she
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 215 
 
 if 
 
 paid off a little of her private score, to her warm satisfac- 
 tion. 
 
 "Well, I am sure," she cried, "I never could have 
 credited that anybody could question Mr. Iglesias' gen- 
 uineness ! I would sooner doubt Georgie, that I would, 
 and fear him deceitful." 
 
 Again the good man came near groaning. It was as 
 though the wife planted a poignard in his heart. 
 
 " And after you playing the piano to him so frequently 
 the few days Mr. Iglesias stopped here, and seeming so 
 comfortable together and friendly, and his inviting us all 
 to the theatre! Really, I must say I do think you sadly 
 changeable, Serena, that I do." 
 
 " No, I am not changeable, Rhoda," the other lady de' 
 clared, both voice and colour rising slightly. " Nobody 
 ever accused me of being changeable before, and I do not 
 like it. I do not think you are at all justified in making 
 such an accusation. But I am observant. I always have 
 been so. Even Susan allows that I am very observant. I 
 cannot help being so, and I do not wish to help it. I think 
 it is much safer. It helps you to find out who you can 
 really trust. And, of course, I observed a great deal that 
 happened last night. I felt from the first that I owed it 
 to myself to be particularly on my guard, because certain 
 insinuations had been made you know, Rhoda, you have 
 made them more than once yourself and some people 
 might have thought that things had gone rather far when 
 Mr. Iglesias was stopping here. I believe Mrs. Porcher 
 and that dreadful Miss Hart did think it. I do not say 
 that things did go far; I only say that people might 
 naturally think that they had. On several occasions Mr. 
 Iglesias' conduct did seem very marked. And, of course, 
 nothing could be more odious to me than to be placed in 
 a false position. One cannot be too careful, especially 
 with foreigners. Mamma always warned us against for-
 
 216 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 eigners when we first came out. I never had any experience 
 of foreigners until I met Mr. Iglesias, here at your house. 
 But, I am sorry to say, I believe now mamma was perfectly 
 right." 
 
 As she ended her harangue, Serena with a petulant 
 movement of her thin hands pushed her plate away from 
 the table edge, leaving a vacant space before her. This 
 was as a declaration of war. She scorned further subter- 
 fuge. She announced a demonstration. A bright spot of 
 colour burned on either cheek, her small head, on its long 
 stalk of neck, was carried very erect. It was one of those 
 pathetic moments when the merciless revelations of the 
 morning sunshine notwithstanding this slim, faded, mid- 
 dle-aged spinster appeared to recapture, and that very 
 effectively, the charm and promise of her vanished youth. 
 Excited by foolish anger, animated by a sense of insult 
 wholly misplaced and imaginary, she became a very pass- 
 ably pretty person, the immature but hopeful Serena of 
 eighteen looking forth from the eyes of the narrow-souled 
 disappointed Serena of eight-and-forty. 
 
 " Of course, George may have some explanation of what 
 happened last night," she went on, speaking rapidly. " If 
 he has, I think it would be only fair that he should offer it 
 to me. I took for granted he would do so this morning as 
 soon as we met; or that he would send you to me, Rhoda, 
 to explain if he felt too awkward about speaking himself. 
 But as you both are determined to ignore what happened, I 
 am forced to speak. I dare say it would be much more 
 convenient to you, knowing you have made a mistake, to 
 pass the whole thing over in silence. But I really cannot 
 consent to that. If Mr. Iglesias meant nothing all along, 
 then I think he has behaved disgracefully. If he did mean 
 something at first, and then " the speaker gasped 
 " changed his mind, he might at least have given some 
 hint. He ought to have refused to stop here, of course."
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 217 
 
 "'He did refuse," George Lovegrove faltered. This was 
 really dreadful, far worse than anything he had antici- 
 pated and he had not a notion what it was safe to say. 
 " I do wish females' minds were a little less ingenious," he 
 commented to himself. " They see such a lot which would 
 never have entered my head, for instance." 
 
 "^ Still, Mr. Iglesias came," cried the belligerent Serena. 
 
 " Yes, I over-persuaded him. He was very unwilling, 
 very so indeed, saying that staying out was altogether 
 foreign to his practice. But I pointed out to him that 
 you and the wife might feel rather mortified if he omitted 
 to come, having taken such an interest in his illness 
 and " 
 
 " If you made use of my name, George, you took a 
 great liberty." 
 
 " I am very distressed to hear you say that, Serena. 
 Both the wife and I certainly supposed you wished him 
 to come." 
 
 He looked imploringly at his spouse, asking support. 
 But for once the large kindly countenance failed to beam 
 responsive. A plaintive expression overspread its surface. 
 Then the unhappy man stared despondently out into the 
 misty morning sunshine, plastering .down his shiny hair 
 with a moist and shaky hand. Even the wife turned 
 against him, making him feel an outcast at his own break- 
 fast-table. He could have wept. 
 
 " I have been so very guarded throughout," Serena 
 resumed, " that it is impossible you should have the slight- 
 est excuse for using my name. But, of course, if you have 
 done so, my position is more than ever odious. There is 
 nothing for me to do but to go. Fortunately I am going 
 and I am thankful. If I had followed my own inclina- 
 tions, I should have gone long ago. Then I should have 
 been spared all this, and nothing would have been said. 
 Now all sorts of things may be said, because, of course, it
 
 218 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 must all look very odd. It shows how foolish it is to allow 
 one's judgment to be overruled. I stayed entirely to 
 oblige Rhoda. And I cannot but see I have been trifled 
 with." 
 
 " No, no, Serena, not that never that," her host cried 
 distractedly. " If I have been in the wrong, I apologise 
 from my heart. But trifling never entered my thoughts. 
 How could it do so, with all the respect I have for you and 
 Susan? I may have been clumsy, but I acted for the 
 best." 
 
 " I am afraid I cannot agree," she retorted. " It is 
 useless to apologise. I am sorry to tell you so, George, 
 for I have trusted you until now; but I do feel, and I am 
 afraid I always shall feel, I have been very unkindly 
 treated by you and Rhoda." 
 
 She rose, rustling as she spoke, the parrot, meanwhile, 
 leaving off preening its feathers, regarding her, its head 
 very much on one side, with a wicked eye. 
 
 " No, please leave me to myself," she said. " I do not 
 want anybody to help me, and if I do I shall ring for the 
 maids. I want to compose myself before I go to Lady 
 Samuelson's. After all this unpleasantness, it is much 
 better for me to be alone." 
 
 " Good-bye, girlie, poor old girlie. Hi ! p'liceman, bring 
 a four-wheeler," shrieked the parrot, as Serena opened and 
 closed the dining-room door, flapping wildly in the sun- 
 shine till the sand and seed husks on the floor of its cage 
 arose and whirled upwards in a crazy little cloud. 
 
 George Lovegrove, who had risen to his feet, sank back 
 into his chair, resting his elbows on the table and covering 
 his face with his hands. 
 
 " I would rather have forfeited my pension," he mur- 
 mured. " I would rather have lost a hundred pounds." 
 
 Then raising his head he gazed imploringly at his wife. 
 And this time her tender heart could not resist the appeal.
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 219 
 
 -/ 
 
 He had not been open with her, but she relented, giving 
 him opportunity to retrieve his error. Moreover but that 
 naturally was a very minor consideration she was burst- 
 ing with curiosity. 
 
 " Georgie," she asked solemnly, " whatever did happen 
 last night? " 
 
 "*Mr. Iglesias met a lady friend. She sent for him to 
 talk to her, in the lobby, between the acts," he answered, 
 the red deepening in his clean fresh-coloured face. 
 
 " Not any of that designing Cedar Lodge lot? " 
 
 " Oh ! dear no, not at all," he replied, his childlike eyes 
 full of gratitude. He blessed the magnanimity of the wife. 
 But speedily embarrassment supervened. He found this 
 subject singularly difficult to deal with. " Not at all of 
 their class. I confess it did surprise me, for though I have 
 always taken it for granted Dominic belonged to a higher 
 circle by birth than that in which we have known him, I 
 had no idea he had such aristocratic acquaintances. His 
 looks and manner in public, last night, made him seem 
 fitted for any company. Still, I was surprised." 
 
 " Did he not introduce you ? " 
 
 " No. I cannot say he had a convenient opportunity, 
 and the lady may not have wished it. I could fancy she 
 might hold herself a little above us. But, between our- 
 selves, I believe that was what so upset Serena." 
 
 " I am of opinion Mr. Iglesias is just as well without 
 Serena," Mrs. Lovegrove declared. " I suppose she can- 
 not help it, but her temper is sadly uncertain. I begin to 
 fear she would be very exacting in marriage. But was the 
 lady young, Georgie ? " 
 
 The good man blushed furiously. 
 
 " Yes, under thirty, I should suppose, and very striking 
 to look at. Serena had called my attention to her already. 
 She thought her over-dressed. I am no judge of that, but 
 I could see she was very beautiful."
 
 220 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 " Oh ! Georgia dear ! " This in high protest. For the 
 speaker belonged to that section of the British public in 
 which puritanism is even yet deeply ingrained, with the 
 dreary consequence that beauty, whether of person or in 
 art, is suspect. To admit its existence trenches on im- 
 modesty; to speak of it openly is to skirt the edges of 
 licence. 
 
 George Lovegrove, however, had developed unaccus- 
 tomed boldness. 
 
 " So she was, my dear," he repeated, not squinting in 
 the least for once. " She was beautiful, dark and splendid, 
 with eyes that looked right through you, mocking and yet 
 mournful. They made a noble couple, she and Dominic, 
 notwithstanding the disparity of age. As they stood there 
 together I felt honoured to see them both. And if Dominic 
 Iglesias is to have friends with whom we are unacquainted 
 though I do not deny the thing hurt me a little at first 
 I am glad they should be so handsome and fine. It seems 
 to me fitting, and as if he was in his true sphere at last." 
 
 A silence followed this profession of faith, during which 
 Mrs. Lovegrove's face presented a singular study. She 
 stared at her husband in undisguised amazement, while the 
 corners of her mouth and her large soft cheeks quivered. 
 
 " Well, I should never have expected to hear you talk 
 so, Georgie," she said huskily. " It seems unlike you some- 
 how, almost as though you were despising your own flesh 
 and blood." 
 
 " No, no," he answered, " I could never do that. I could 
 never be so forgetful of all I owe to my own family and to 
 yours, Rhoda. I am under deep obligations to both. But 
 it would be dishonest to deny that I set a wonderfully high 
 value on Dominic Iglesias' regard, and have done so ever 
 since we were boys together at school. To me Dominic has 
 always stood by himself, I knowing how superior he was to 
 me in mind and in all else, so that it has been my truest
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 honour and privilege to be admitted to intimacy with him. 
 But the difference between us never came home to me as it 
 did when I saw him in other company last night. He is 
 fitted for a higher position than he has ever filled yet we 
 all used to allow that in old days at the bank or for any 
 society we can offer him. So, though I felt humiliated in 
 a measure, I felt glad. For I can grudge him nothing in 
 the way of new friends, even though they may be differ- 
 ently placed to ourselves and should come between him and 
 me a little, making our intercourse less frequent and easy 
 than in the past. From my heart I wish him the very best 
 that is going, although it should be rather detrimental to 
 myself." 
 
 Mrs. Lovegrove's cheeks still quivered, but the expres- 
 sion of her face was unresponsive once more, not to say 
 obstinate. Jealousy, indeed, possessed her. For the first 
 time in her whole experience she realised her husband as an 
 individual, as a human entity independent of herself. To 
 contemplate him otherwise than in the marital relation was 
 a shock to her. She felt deserted, a potential Ariadne on 
 Naxos. Hence jealousy, resentment, cruel hurt. 
 
 " Well, to be sure, what a long story ! " she cried, in 
 tones approaching sarcasm, " and all about someone who 
 is no relation, too! Whatever possesses you, Georgie? 
 You aren't a bit like yourself. It seems to me this morning 
 everybody's bewitched." She heaved herself up out of her 
 chair. " I shall go and try to make it up with Serena," she 
 continued. " It is only Christian charity to do so ; and, 
 poor thing, I can well understand she may have had cause 
 enough for mortification now I have made out what really 
 did take place last night." 
 
 Usually, left alone in the dining-room, George Love- 
 grove would have proceeded methodically to do a number 
 of neat little odd jobs, humming softly the while funny, 
 shapeless little tunes to himself in the fulness of his guile-
 
 222 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 less content. He would have piled up the fire with small 
 coal and dust, thus keeping it alight but saving fuel till 
 luncheon-time, when one skilful stir with the poker would 
 produce a cheerful blaze. Then he would have proceeded 
 to the little conservatory opening off his box of a sanctum 
 at the back of the house containing his roller-top desk, 
 his papers, Borough Council and parish reports, his maga- 
 zines, his best and second-best overcoats hung on pegs 
 against the wall along with his silk hat. In the conserva- 
 tory, still humming, he would have smoked his morning 
 pipe, feeding the gold-fish in the small square glass tank 
 a tiny fountain in the centre of which it pleased him to set 
 playing and later carefully examining the ferns and 
 other pot-plants in search of green-fly, scale, or blight. 
 But to-day the innocent routine of his life was rudely 
 broken up. He had no heart for his accustomed tidy pot- 
 terings, but lingered aimlessly, fingering the gold watch- 
 chain strained across the convex surface of his waistcoat, 
 and looking pitifully enough between the lace curtains out 
 on to the Green. 
 
 The sun had climbed the sky, burning up the hoarfrost 
 and mist, so that the houses opposite had become clearly 
 discernible. Presently he beheld a tall, upright figure 
 emerge from the front door of Cedar Lodge. For a mo- 
 ment Mr. Iglesias stood at the head of the flight of im- 
 maculately white stone steps, rolling up his umbrella and 
 putting on his gloves preparatory to setting forth on his 
 morning walk. And, watching him, a wave of humility 
 and self-depreciation swept over George Lovegrove's gentle 
 and candid soul, combined with an aching or regret that 
 destiny had not seen fit to deal with him rather otherwise 
 than it actually had. He felt a great longing that he, too, 
 were possessed of a stately presence, brains, breeding, and 
 handsome looks. There stirred in him an almost impas- 
 sioned craving for romance, for escape from the intermin-
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 223 
 
 able respectabilities and domesticities of English middle- 
 class suburban life. He went a step further, rebelling 
 against the feminine atmosphere which surrounded him, in 
 which " feelings " so constantly usurped the place of 
 actions, and suppositions that of fact. Then, the vision 
 of a beautiful woman with a strange rose-scarlet dress, in 
 whose eyes sorrow struggled with mocking laughter, once 
 again assailed him. Who she might be, and what her his- 
 tory, he most emphatically knew not ; yet that she breathed 
 a keener and more tonic air than that to which he was 
 habituated, that feelings in her case did not stand for 
 actions, or suppositions for fact, he was fully convinced. 
 
 " Poor old chappie, take a brandy and soda. Got the 
 hump? " this, shrilly, from the parrot hanging head 
 downwards from the roof of its cage. 
 
 At the sound of that at once unhuman and singularly 
 confidential voice close beside him, George Lovegrove gave 
 a guilty start. 
 
 " Yes, the wife is quite right," he said, half aloud. " If 
 you want to keep a happy mind there is very much of which 
 it is as well to be ignorant." 
 
 Then shame covered him, for in his recent meditations 
 and apprehensions had he not come very near turning 
 traitor, and being, in imagination at all events, subtly 
 unfaithful to that same large kindly comfortable wife?
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 Two months had passed, and February was about to give 
 place to March two months empty of outward event for 
 Dominic Iglesias, but big with thought and consolidation 
 of purpose. He had been more than ever solitary during 
 this period, for his acquaintance, even to the faithful 
 George Lovegrove, stood aloof. But Dominic hardly 
 noticed this. Though solitary, he had not been lonely, 
 since his mind was absorbed in question, in pursuit, in the 
 consciousness of deepening conviction. For the recogni- 
 tion not merely of religion, but of Christianity, as a su- 
 preme factor in earthly existence, which had come to him 
 in the dreary December twilight, as, broken in health and 
 in spirit, he gazed upon the carven picture of Calvary, 
 had proved no fugitive experience. It remained by him, 
 entracing his imagination and satisfying both his heart 
 and his intelligence; so that he looked back upon the hour 
 of his despair thankfully, seeing in it the starting-point of 
 a journey the prosecution of which promised not only to 
 be the main occupation of his remaining years here in time, 
 but, the river of death once crossed, to stretch onward 
 and onward through realms, at present inconceivable, of 
 beauty, of knowledge, and of love. And so, for the moment, 
 solitude was sweet to him, leaving him free of petty cares 
 and anxieties he moving forward, ignorant of the gossip 
 which in point of fact surrounded him, innocent of the 
 feminine plots and counterplots of which his blameless 
 bachelorhood was at once the provoking cause and the 
 object; while in his eyes though of this, too, he was igno- 
 rant dwelt increasingly reflection of that mysterious and 
 lovely light which, let obstinately purblind man deny it as
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 225 
 
 he may, lies forever along the far horizon, for comfort 
 of godly wayfarers and as beacon of the elect. 
 
 Yet it must not be supposed that the outset of Iglesias' 
 spiritual journey was wholly serene, free from obstacle or 
 hesitation, from risk of untoward selection, or rejection, 
 of the safe way. Many roads, and those bristling with 
 contradictory signposts, presented themselves. Noisy 
 touts, each crying up his own special mode and means of 
 conveyance, rushed forth at every turn. 
 
 Modern Protestantism, as he encountered it in the pages 
 of popular newspapers and magazines, at Mrs. Porcher's 
 dinner-table, or in the good Lovegroves' drawing-room, 
 had small attraction for him, since it appeared to advance 
 chiefly by negations stated with rather blatant self-suf- 
 ficiency and self-conceit. It might tend to the making of 
 respectable municipal councillors ; but, in his opinion, it 
 was idle to pretend that it tended to the making of saints 
 and for the saints, those experts in the divine science, 
 Iglesias confessed a weakness. Of spirituality it showed, 
 to his seeing, as little outward evidence as of philosophy or 
 of art. The phrases of piety might still be upon the lips 
 of its votaries ; but the attitude and aspirations engendered 
 by piety were unfortunately dead. Its system of ethics 
 was frankly utilitarian. Its goal, though hidden from the 
 simple by a maze of high-sounding sentiment, was Ration- 
 alism pure and simple. Its god was not the creator of the 
 visible universe, of angels and archangels, dominions, prin- 
 cipalities, and powers, of incalculable natural and super- 
 natural forces, but a jerky loose- jointed pasteboard divin- 
 ity, the exclusive possession, since it is the exclusive inven- 
 tion, of the Anglo-Saxon race, through whose gaping 
 mouth any and every self-elected prophet was free to 
 shout, as heaven-descended truth, in the name of progress 
 and liberty, whatever political or social catchword chanced 
 to be the fashion of the hour.
 
 226 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 Nor did the neo-mystics, whose utterances are also sown 
 broadcast in contemporary literature and who are so lavish 
 with their offers of divine enlightenment, please Iglesias 
 any better. For his mind, thanks to his Latin ancestry, 
 was of the logical order, while a business training and long 
 knowledge of affairs had taught him the value of method, 
 giving him an unalterable reverence for fact, and impress- 
 ing upon him the existence of law, absolute and immutable, 
 in every department of nature and of human activity 
 law, to break which is to destroy the sequence of cause and 
 effect, and so procure abortion. Therefore this new school 
 of thinkers if one can dignify by the name of thinkers 
 persons of so vague and topsy-turvy a mental habit nour- 
 ishing themselves upon the windy meat of secular and time- 
 exploded fallacies, upon the temple-sweepings of all the 
 religions, oriental and occidental, old and new, combined 
 with ill-attested marvels of modern physical and psycho- 
 logical experiment, were far from commending themselves 
 to his calm and patient judgment. Such excited persons, 
 as a slight acquaintance with history proves beyond all 
 question, have existed in every age ; and, suffering from 
 chronic mental dyspepsia, have ever been liable to mistake 
 the rumblings of internal flatulence for the Witness of the 
 Spirit. In their current pronouncements Iglesias met with 
 a wearisome passion for paradox, and an equally wearisome 
 disposition to hail all eccentricity as genius, all hysteria as 
 inspiration. While in their exaltation of the " sub-con- 
 scious self " namely, of those blind movements of instinct 
 and foreboding common to the lower animals and to savage 
 or degenerate man alike as against the intellect and the 
 reasoned action of the will, he saw a menace to human at- 
 tainment, to civilisation in the best meaning of that word 
 to right reason and noble living, which it would be dif- 
 ficult to overestimate. These good people, while pouring 
 contempt on the body, and even denying its existence, in
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 jf 
 
 point of fact thought and talked about little else. All of 
 
 which struck him as not only very tiresome and very silly, 
 but very dangerous. Modern Protestantism might eventu- 
 ate in Rationalism, in a limiting of human endeavour ex- 
 clusively to the end of material well-being. But this 
 worship of the pseudo-sciences, this tinkering at the ac- 
 cepted foundations and accepted decencies of the social 
 order, this cultivation of intellectual and moral chaos, 
 could, for the vast majority of its professors at all events, 
 eventuate only in the mad-house. And to the mad-house, 
 whether by twentieth-century esoteric airship or occult 
 subway, Dominic Iglesias had not the very smallest desire 
 to go. 
 
 For he had no ambition to be " on time " and up-to-date, 
 to electrify either himself or his contemporaries by an 
 exhibition of mental smartness. He merely desired, ear- 
 nestly yet humbly, to be given grace to find the road 
 however archaic in the eyes of the modern world that road 
 might be which leads to the light on the far horizon and 
 beyond to the presence of God. The more he meditated on 
 these things the more inconceivable it became to him but 
 that this road veritably existed; and that, not by labour 
 of man, but by everlasting ordinance of God. It was 
 absurd, in face of a state of being so complex, so highly 
 organised, so universally subjected to law, as the one in 
 which he found himself, that a matter of such supreme 
 importance as the channel of intercourse between the soul 
 and its Maker should have been left to haphazard accident 
 or blundering of lucky chance. And so, having supple- 
 mented his researches in print, by listening to the discourses 
 of many teachers, from one end of London to the other in 
 lecture-hall, chapel, and church, having even stood among 
 the crowds which gather around itinerant preachers in the 
 Park, Dominic found his thought fixing itself with deepen- 
 ing assurance upon the communion in which he had been
 
 228 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 born and baptised, which his father, in the interests of the 
 revolutionary propaganda, had so bitterly repudiated, and 
 from which his mother, broken by the tyranny of circum- 
 stance and bodily weakness, had lapsed. 
 
 Outside that communion he beheld only weltering seas 
 of prejudice and conflicting opinion, heard only the tumult 
 of confused and acrimonious contest. Within he beheld 
 the calm of fearlessly wielded authority and of loyal obedi- 
 ence; heard the awed silence of those who worship being 
 glad. For the Catholic Church, as Iglesias began to un- 
 derstand, is something far greater than any triumphant 
 example of that which can be attained by cooperation and 
 organisation. It is not an organisation, but an organism ; 
 a Living Being, perfectly proportioned, with inherent 
 powers of development and growth; ever-existent in the 
 Divine Mind before Time was ; recipient and guardian of 
 the deepest secrets, the most sacred mysteries of existence ; 
 endlessly adaptable to changing conditions yet immutably 
 the same. Hence it is that Catholicism presents no ques- 
 tionable historic pedigree and speaks with no uncertain 
 voice. Claiming not only to know the road the soul must 
 tread would it reach the far horizon, but to be the ap- 
 pointed warden of that same road and sustainer of it, she 
 points with proud confidence to the vast multitude which, 
 under her guidance, has joyfully trodden it a multitude 
 as diverse in gifts and estate, as in age and race as proof 
 of the authenticity of her mission to the toiling and sor- 
 rowful children of men. 
 
 Yet, since unconditional surrender must ever strike a 
 pretty shrewd blow at the roots both of personal pride 
 and worldly caution, Dominic Iglesias hesitated to take the 
 final step and declare himself. To one who has long lived 
 outside the creeds, and that not ungodly, still less bes- 
 tially, it is no light matter to subject attitude of mind and 
 daily habit to distinct rule. Not only does the natural
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 229 
 
 man rebel against the apparent limiting of his personal 
 freedom, but the conventional and sophisticated man fears 
 lest agreement should, after all, spell weakness, while in- 
 differentism specially in outward observances argues 
 strength. A certain shyness, moreover, withheld Iglesias, 
 a not unadmirable dread of being guilty of ostentation. 
 It w,as so little his custom to obtrude himself, his opinions, 
 and his needs upon the attention of others, that he was 
 scrupulous and diffident in the selection of time and place. 
 The affair, however, decided itself, as affairs usually do 
 when the intention of those undertaking them is a sincere 
 one and thus. 
 
 The tide of war had begun to turn. Earlier in the week 
 had come the news of General Cronje's surrender, after the 
 three days' shelling of his laager at Paardeberg. Hence 
 satisfaction, not only of victory but of compassion, since 
 a sense of horror had weighed on the hearts of even the 
 least sentimental at thought of the stubborn thousands, 
 penned in that flaming rat-trap of the dry river-bed, ringed 
 about by sun-baked rock and sand and death-belching guns. 
 To-day came news of the relief of long-beleaguered Lady- 
 smith, and London was shaken by emotion, under the bleak 
 moisture-laden March sky, the air thick with the clash of 
 joy-bells, buildings gay with riotous outbreak of many- 
 coloured flags, the streets vibrant with the tread and voices 
 of surging crowds. 
 
 Iglesias, who early that afternoon had walked City- 
 wards to see the holiday aspect of the town and glean the 
 latest war news, growing somewhat weary on his home- 
 ward journey of the humours of his fellow-citizens which 
 became beery and boisterous as the day drew on turned 
 in at the open gates of the Oratory, in passing along the 
 Brompton Road. His purpose was to gain a little breath- 
 ing space from the jostling throng, by standing at the 
 head of the steps under the wide portico of the great
 
 230 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 church. Looking westward, above the wedge of mean and 
 ill-assorted houses that marks the junction of the Fulham 
 and the Cromwell Roads the muddy pavements of which, 
 far as the eye carried, were black with people the yellow- 
 ish glare of a pallid sunset spread itself across the leaden 
 dulness of the sky. The wan and sickly light touched the 
 architrave and columns of the facade of the great church, 
 bringing this and the statue of the Blessed Virgin which 
 surmounts it into a strange and phantasmal relief a 
 building not material and of this world, but rather of a 
 city of dreams. To Iglesias it appeared as though there 
 was an element of menace in that cold and melancholy re- 
 flection of the sunset. It produced in him a sense of in- 
 security and distrust, which the roar of the traffic and 
 horseplay of the crowd were powerless to counteract. 
 London, the monstrous mother, in this hour of her rejoic- 
 ing showed singularly unattractive. Her features were 
 grimed with soot, her dull-hued garments foul with slush, 
 her gestures were common, her laughter coarse. His soul 
 revolted from the sight and sound of her ; revolted against 
 the fate which had bound him so closely to her in the past, 
 and which bound him still. The spirit of her infected even 
 the sky above her, painting it with the sad colours of per- 
 plexity and doubt. He stepped farther back under the 
 portico, moved by desire to escape from the too insistent 
 thought and spectacle of her. Doing so, he became aware 
 of music reaching him faintly from behind the closed doors 
 of the church, fine yet sonorous harmonies supporting the 
 radiant clarity of a boy's voice. 
 
 Then Iglesias understood that he was presented here and 
 immediately with the moment of final choice. Delay was 
 dishonourable, since it was nothing less than a shirking of 
 the obligations which his convictions had created. So 
 there, on the one hand for so the whole matter pictured 
 itself to his seeing was London, the type, as she is in fact
 
 the capital, of the modern world of its ambitions, mate- 
 rial and social, of its activities, of its amazing association 
 of pleasure and misery, of the rankest poverty and most 
 plethoric wealth at once formless, sprawling, ugly, 
 vicious, while magnificent in intelligence, in vitality, in 
 display, as in actual area and bulk. On the other hand, 
 and in the eyes of the majority phantasmal as a city of 
 dreams, was Holy Church, austere, restrictive, demanding 
 much yet promising little save clean hands and a pure 
 heart, until the long and difficult road is traversed which 
 as she declares leads to the light on the far horizon 
 and beyond to the presence of God. 
 
 " If one could be certain of that last, then all would be 
 simple and easy," Iglesias said to himself, looking out over 
 the turbulence of the streets to the pallid menace of the 
 western sky. " But it is in the nature of things, that 
 one cannot be certain. Certainty, whether for good 
 or evil, can only come after the event. One must 
 take the risk. And the risk is great, almost appallingly 
 great." 
 
 For just then there awoke and cried in him all the re- 
 pressed and frustrated pride of a man's life lust of the 
 flesh, lust of the eyes, overweening ambition of power and 
 place, of cruelty even, of gross licence and debauch. For 
 the moment he ceased to be an individual, limited by time 
 and circumstances, and became, in desire, the possessor of 
 the passions and reckless curiosity of the whole human 
 race. So that, in imagination he suffered unexampled 
 temptations ; and, in resisting them, flung aside unexampled 
 allurements of grandeur and conceivable delight. Not 
 what actually was, or ever had been, possible to and for 
 him, Dominic Iglesias, bank-clerk, assailed him with pro- 
 vocative vision and voice ; but the whole pageant of earthly 
 being, and the inebriation of it. Nothing less than this 
 did he behold, and drink of, and, in spirit, repudiate and
 
 232 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 put away forever, as at last he pulled open the heavy swing 
 doors and passed into the church. 
 
 Within all was dim, mist and incense smoke obscuring 
 the roof of the great dome, the figures of the kneeling con- 
 gregation far below showing small and dark. Only the 
 high altar was ablaze with many lights, in the centre of 
 which, high-uplifted, encircled by the golden rays of the 
 monstrance, pale, mysterious, pearl of incalculable price, 
 showed the immaculate Host. 
 
 Quietly yet fearlessly, as one who comes by long-estab- 
 lished right, Dominic walked the length of the nave, knelt 
 devoutly on both knees, prostrating himself as, long ago, 
 in the days of early childhood his mother had taught him 
 to do at the Exposition of the Blessed Sacrament. Now, 
 after all these years and a sob rose in his throat he 
 seemed to feel her hand upon his shoulder, the gentle pres- 
 sure of which enjoined deepest reverence. Then rising, 
 he took his place in the second row of seats on the gospel 
 side, and remained there, through the concluding acts of 
 the ceremonial, until the silent congregation suddenly finds 
 voice penetrated by austere emotion in recitation of the 
 Divine Praises. 
 
 Some minutes later he knelt in the confessional, laying 
 bare the secrets of his heart. 
 
 Thus did Dominic Iglesias cast off the bondage of that 
 monstrous mother, London-town, cast off the terror of 
 those unbidden companions, Loneliness and Old Age, using 
 freedom as the world counts such action to abjure free- 
 dom; and, taking the risks, humbly reconcile himself to 
 Holy Church.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 GOOD George Lovegrove wandered solitary in Kensington 
 Gardens. He had chosen the lower path running parallel 
 with Kensington Gore, which leads, between flowerborders 
 and thickset belts of shrubbery, from the Broad Walk to 
 the railings enclosing the open space around the Albert 
 Memorial. This path, being sheltered and furnished with 
 many green garden seats, is specially nurse and baby 
 haunted, and it was to see the babies, whether sturdily on 
 foot or seated in their little carriages, that George Love- 
 grove had come hither, being sad. Thrushes sang lustily 
 from the treetops. The flowerborders grew resplendent 
 with polyanthus, crocus yellow, purple, and white, with 
 early daffodils, and the heaven blue of scilla sibirlca. 
 Above, here and there a froth of almond or cherry blossom 
 overspread the dark twigs and branches, while a ruddiness 
 of burgeoning buds flushed the great elms. But babies of 
 position, looking like tiny pink-faced polar bears, still 
 wore their long leggings and white furs, the March wind 
 being treacherous. They galloped, trumpeting, the clean 
 air and merry sunshine going to their heads in the most 
 inebriating fashion. It was early, moreover, so that they 
 were full of the energy of a .good night's sleep, of break- 
 fast, and of comfortable nursery warmth. And George 
 Lovegrove stepped among them carefully, watching their 
 gambols moist-eyed, nervously anxious lest his quaintly 
 solid figure should obstruct the erratic progress of toy- 
 horse, or hoop, or ball. He craved for notice, for even 
 the veriest scrap of friendly recognition, yet was too 
 diffident to attempt any direct intercourse with these delec- 
 table small personages, who, on their part, were royally in- 
 
 233
 
 234 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 different to his existence so long as he did not get in their 
 way. This he clearly perceived, yet for it bore them no 
 ill-will, preferring, as does every truly devout lover, to 
 worship the beloved from a respectful distance rather than 
 not worship at all. 
 
 And it was thus, even as a large and dusky elephant 
 picking its way very gently through a flock of skippeting 
 and lively lambs, that Mr. Iglesias, entering the sheltered 
 walk from the far end, first caught sight of him. To 
 Dominic, it must be admitted, babies, song-birds, burgeon- 
 ing buds and blossoms, alike presented themselves as but 
 elements in the setting of the outward scene a scene sweet 
 enough had one leisure to contemplate it, touched by the 
 genial vernal influence, witness to nature's undying youth. 
 But his appreciation of that sweetness was just now cursory 
 and indirect. His thought was absorbed and eager, pene- 
 trated by apprehension of matters lying above and beyond 
 the range of ordinary human speech. For he was in that 
 exalted interval of a many hours' fast when the spiritual 
 intelligence is wholly alive and awake, the body becoming 
 but the vesture of the soul a vesture without impediment 
 or weight, a beautifully negligible quantity in the general 
 scheme of existence. Later reaction sets in. The claims 
 of the body become dominant; and the exalted moment is 
 too often paid for sorrowfully enough in sluggish brain 
 and irritated nerves. Dominic, however, had not reached 
 that stage of the tragi-comedy of the marriage of flesh 
 and spirit. He was happy, with the white unearthly hap- 
 piness of those who have been admitted to the Sacred 
 Mysteries. And it was not without a sense of shock, as 
 of rough descent to common things, of pity and of regret, 
 that he recognised good George Lovegrove cruising thus, 
 elephantine, among the roystering babes. Then Iglesias 
 checked himself sternly. To humble themselves, remember- 
 ing their own great unworthiness, to come down from the
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 235 
 
 if 
 
 Mount of Transfiguration to the dwellers in the plain, and 
 be gentle and human towards them this surely is the 
 primary duty of those who have assisted at the Divine 
 Sacrament? And so Iglesias went forward and hailed his 
 old school-fellow in all tenderness and friendship, causing 
 the latter to raise his eyes from pathetic contemplation of 
 thosje charming but wholly self-absorbed small human ani- 
 mals, and look up. 
 
 " Dominic ! " he cried. " Well, to be sure, you do sur- 
 prise me. Who would have expected to meet you out at 
 this hour of the morning? I do congratulate myself. I 
 am pleased," he said. His honest face beamed, his fresh 
 colour deepened. As a girl at the unlooked-for advent of 
 her lover, he grew confused and shy. And Iglesias warmed 
 towards him. Whimsical in appearance, simple-minded, 
 not greatly skilled in any sort of learning, yet he had a 
 heart of gold about that there could be no manner of 
 doubt. 
 
 " Turn back then, and let us walk together," Iglesias 
 said affectionately. " It is a long while since we have had 
 a quiet talk that is, of course, if you have no particular 
 business which calls you to town." 
 
 " I have no business of any description," he answered. 
 " And between ourselves, Dominic, since I lost my seat on 
 the borough council, I have had too much time on my hands, 
 I think. It is beginning to be quite a trouble with me." 
 
 " Is life too softly padded, too dead-level easy and com- 
 fortable? " Iglesias inquired. " Are you beginning to 
 quarrel a little with your blessings ? " 
 
 George Lovegrove became very serious. 
 
 " Yes," he said, " I am afraid you are right. As usual 
 you have laid your finger on the spot. I do reproach my- 
 self for unthankfulness often. I know I have a good home, 
 and everything decent and respectable about me; more so, 
 indeed, than a man in my position has any right to expect.
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 !A!nd yet I regret the old days in the city, Dominic, that J 
 do. I should enjoy to be back at my old desk at the bank 
 just the little snap of anxiety in the morning as to 
 whether one would catch the 'bus ; the long ride through the 
 streets with one's morning paper ; the turning out with the 
 other clerks good fellows all of them, on the whole, were 
 they not ? to get a snack of lunch. And then the coming 
 home at night, with some trifling present or dainty to please 
 the wife; and a look round the greenhouse and garden 
 afterwards in your lounge suit; and hearing and retailing 
 all the day's news, and talking of the good time coming 
 when you would retire and be quite the independent gentle- 
 man ; and the half -day on Saturday, too, taking some nice 
 little outing to Richmond or Kew, or an exhibition or some- 
 thing of the sort, and then the Sunday's rest." 
 
 He hesitated and sighed, looking wistfully at the white- 
 clad babies. 
 
 " If one had two or three of those little people of one's 
 own it might be very different though I would never 
 breathe a word of such a thought to the wife. Females 
 are so easily upset; and if it raises regrets in us men, it 
 must be much more trying for them, poor things, to be 
 childless. But where was I? Yes, well now the good time 
 has come and I feel a criminal in saying so, but it appears 
 to me to be growing stale already, Dominic. It was better 
 in anticipation than in fact. I am an ungrateful fellow, 
 that I am, I know it ; but sometimes I am inclined to ask 
 myself whether all the things we set such fond hopes on 
 are not like that." 
 
 " No, not all," Iglesias answered, with a certain sub- 
 dued enthusiasm. " There are things a few which 
 never grow stale. One may build on them as on a founda- 
 tion of rock. If they ever seem to fail us, to be shaken 
 and overthrown, it is an evil delusion, and the cause lies 
 not in them but in ourselves. It is we who fail, who are
 
 tf THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 shaken and overthrown through palsied will and feebleness 
 of faith. They remain forever inviolate." 
 
 " I suppose so," the other man said timidly. He was 
 unused to such vehemence of assertion on the part of his 
 friend. He wondered to what it could refer. His 
 thought, carrying back to the evening at the theatre, 
 played around visions of distinguished amours. Then he 
 steadied himself to heroic resolve. 
 
 " I suppose it is," he repeated, " and that makes my 
 conduct appear all the more discreditable to me. My cir- 
 cumstances are too comfortable and easy. It is just that. 
 And so I take to fretting over trifles and seeing slights and 
 unkindness where none were intended." He looked up at 
 Iglesias, his squinting eyes full of apology and admiration. 
 " Yes, I am sadly poor-spirited and I have no excuse. I 
 have been nursing a sense of injury towards those to whom 
 I have most occasion for gratitude the wife and you. 
 Dominic, believe me, I am heartily ashamed of myself." 
 
 " Come, come," Iglesias answered, brought very much 
 back to earth, yet touched and softened. " My dear 
 friend, you of all men have small cause for self-reproach. 
 In every relation of life and our knowledge of one another 
 dates back to early youth I have found you perfect in 
 loyalty and unselfish kindness." 
 
 George Lovegrove walked on for a moment in silence. 
 He had to clear his throat once or twice before he could 
 command his voice. 
 
 " Praise from you is very encouraging," he managed to 
 say at last. " But I am afraid I do not deserve it. I 
 have felt mortified lately sometimes, and I am afraid en- 
 vious. I but after your last words I am more than ever 
 ashamed to own it I have fancied that you were becoming 
 distant and that an estrangement was growing up between 
 us. Of course I have always understood, though we hap- 
 pened to be school-fellows and in the same employment
 
 238 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 afterward, that your position and mine were different. 
 And I want you to know that I would never be a clog on 
 you, Dominic " he spoke with an admirably simple dig- 
 nity " believe me, I never would be that. Lately I have 
 been troubled by the thought that I had extracted a 
 promise from you to remain at Trimmer's Green. Now I 
 beg of you most earnestly not to let that promise, given in 
 a moment of generous indulgence, weigh with you in the 
 slightest, if circumstances have arisen which point at your 
 residing in. a more fashionable part of the town." 
 
 " But why should I want to go to a more fashionable 
 part of London? " Iglesias asked, smiling. 
 
 " Well, you see," the other returned, his face growing 
 furiously red, " it came to my knowledge, unexpectedly, 
 that you have acquaintances in quite another walk of life 
 to ours the wife's and mine, I mean. And it would pain 
 me deeply, very deeply, Dominic, that any promise given 
 to me, regarding your place of residence, should stand be- 
 tween you and mixing as freely with those acquaintances 
 as you might otherwise do." 
 
 They had come to the place where the sheltered pathway 
 is crossed by the Broad Walk the upward trend of which 
 showed blond, in the sunshine, against the brilliant green 
 of the grass and the dark boles of the great trees border- 
 ing it. Here Iglesias paused. He was not altogether 
 pleased. 
 
 " I do not quite follow you," he said coldly. Then look- 
 ing at the guileless and faithful being beside him, he soft- 
 ened once more. Was it not only more just, but more 
 honourable, to treat this matter with candour? " You 
 are alluding to the lady who was good enough to send for 
 me the night you and Miss Lovegrove went with me to the 
 play?" 
 
 " Yes," the excellent George assented in a strangled 
 voice. He wanted to know badly. He was agonised by
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 239 
 
 
 
 fear of having committed an indiscretion offensive to his 
 idol. 
 
 " Set your mind quite at rest on that point then, my dear 
 friend. Her world is not my world and never will be. In 
 it I should be very much out of place." 
 
 Iglesias moved forward again, crossing the Broad Walk 
 and making towards the small iron gate, at the lower corner 
 of the Gardens, which opens on to Kensington High Street. 
 But he walked slowly, becoming conscious that he grew 
 tired and spent. The glory of the spirit dominant was de- 
 parting, the tyranny of the body dominant beginning to 
 reassert itself. His features contracted slightly. He felt 
 unreasoningly sad. 
 
 George Lovegrove walked beside him in silence, his eyes 
 downcast, his heart stirred by vague tumultuous sympathy, 
 his modest nature at once inflamed and abashed, recognis- 
 ing in his companion the hero of an exalted and tragic 
 romance. 
 
 " Well, he looks it. It suits his character and appear- 
 ance," he said to himself, adding aloud for the very life 
 of him he could not help it " But she was very beautiful, 
 Dominic." 
 
 " Yes," Iglesias answered, " she is beautiful and very 
 clever and very unhappy." 
 
 The good George's heart positively thumped against his 
 ribs. " And to think of all the plans the wife and I have 
 been making ! " he said to himself. 
 
 " If she wants me, she will send for me," Iglesias con- 
 tinued quietly, " and I shall go to her at once, as I went 
 that evening, without hesitation or delay, wherever she 
 may be. But," he added, " it becomes increasingly improb- 
 able that she will send for me. I have not seen her or 
 heard from her since that night. And so, my dear friend, 
 you perceive that your kindly fears of having circum- 
 scribed my liberty of choice in respect of a place of resi-
 
 240 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 dence are quite unfounded. I have no reason for leaving 
 Cedar Lodge or altering my accustomed habits." 
 
 Iglesias smiled affectionately, as dismissing the whole 
 matter. 
 
 " And now," he continued, " that little misunderstanding 
 being cleared up, will you mind my turning into the 
 restaurant just here, in High Street, for a cup of coffee 
 and a roll? I have not breakfasted yet." 
 
 Whereupon George Lovegrove pranced before him, in- 
 coherent in kindly remonstrance and advice. 
 
 " At 11 A. M., and after your severe indisposition at 
 Christmas, too, out walking on an empty stomach! It is 
 positively suicidal. Where have you been to? " he cried. 
 
 " To Mass," Iglesias answered, still smiling, though with 
 something of a fighting light in his eyes and a lift of his 
 head. 
 
 His companion stared at him in blank amazement. 
 
 "To what?" he said. 
 
 " To Mass," Iglesias repeated. " I have been waiting 
 for a suitable opportunity to speak to you of this, George. 
 I, too, have felt the weight, of enforced leisure. It has not 
 been a particularly cheerful experience; but it has given 
 me time to read, and still more to think, with the conse- 
 quence that I have returned to the faith of my childhood. 
 I have made my peace with the Church." 
 
 They continued to walk slowly onward; but George 
 Lovegrove drew away to the further side of the path as 
 though contact might be dangerous, as though infection 
 was hanging about. .He kept his eyes averted, his head 
 bent. 
 
 " You do surprise me," he said at last. " I had not the 
 slightest inkling that you were contemplating such a step. 
 I give you my word, you have fairly taken away my breath. 
 I do not seem to be able to grasp it, that you, whom I have 
 always looked up to as so mentally superior, so independent
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 in your thought, should have become a Romanist for that 
 is your meaning, I take it, Dominic ? " 
 
 " Yes, that is my meaning," Iglesias answered. 
 
 " You do surprise me," George Lovegrove said again 
 presently, and in a lamentable voice. " My mind refuses 
 to grasp it. I would rather have lost five hundred pounds 
 than have heard this. I declare I am fairly unmanned. 
 I have never received a greater shock." 
 
 Iglesias remained silent. He was weary and sad. But 
 he straightened himself, trying to keep his gaze fixed 
 steadily upon the far horizon where dwells the everlasting 
 light. 
 
 " It is presumptuous in me to criticise your action, per- 
 haps," his companion continued. " I never did such a 
 thing before, having always hesitated to set up my views 
 against yours ; but I cannot but fear you have made a sad 
 mistake. And if you were contemplating any change of 
 this kind, why did you not come into our own national Eng- 
 lish Church? " 
 
 " Very much because it is English and national, I 
 think," he answered. " In my opinion there is an inherent 
 falsity of conception in subjecting our approach to the 
 Absolute to restrictions imposed by country or by race, if 
 these can, by any means, be avoided. Why hamper yourself 
 with a late, expurgated, and mutilated edition, when the 
 original, in all its splendour and historic completeness, 
 bearing the sign-manual of the Author, is there ready to 
 your hand? " 
 
 Again Iglesias spoke with subdued but unmistakable en- 
 thusiasm. The two friends had just reached the iron gate 
 leading into High Street. Here George Lovegrove 
 stopped. He still kept carefully at a distance, averting his 
 eyes as from some distressing, even disgraceful, sight, 
 while his good honest face worked with emotion. 
 
 " I think if you will kindly excuse me, I will go no.
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 farther," he faltered. " What you say may be true I 
 am sure I don't know. It is all beyond me. But I should 
 prefer not to talk any more about it until I have accustomed 
 myself to the thought of this change in you. Nothing 
 does come between people like religion," he added with un- 
 conscious irony. " So I think, if you will kindly excuse 
 me, I will just go away, Dominic." 
 
 And, without more ado, he turned back into the Gardens. 
 
 The small polar bears, meanwhile, satiated with exercise, 
 air, and light, had begun to grow restive and f retty. Their 
 stomachs cried cupboardwards, and they were disposed to 
 filch each other's toy horses and hoops, and use each other's 
 small persons as targets for balls, thrown as bombs in a 
 fashion far from polite. Anxious maids and nurses hunted 
 them homewards, not without slight asperity on the one 
 part, on the other occasional squealings and free fights. 
 But upon the babies, engaging even in naughtiness, George 
 Lovegrove had ceased to bestow any attention. He went 
 forward blindly, cruising among them and their attendants 
 and smart little carriages, elephantine, careless where he 
 placed his feet, to the obstruction of traffic and heightening 
 of general annoyance, as sorrowful a man as any would 
 need to meet. For it seemed to him things had gone wrong, 
 just then, past all hope of setting right. His idol, light 
 of his eyes and joy of his guileless heart, had fallen from his 
 high estate, discovering capacity of playing the most dis- 
 creditable and soul-harrowing pranks. Prejudice is 
 myriad-lived here on earth; and in George Lovegrove all 
 the bigotry, all the semi-superstitious terror fostered by 
 the accumulated ignorance which generations of Protestant 
 forefathers have bequeathed to the English middle-class, 
 reared itself, not only stubborn, but militant. His 
 thought travelled back to those barbarities of rougher ages 
 which are, in point of fact, more common to the secular 
 than to the religious criminal code; but which Protestant
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 243 
 
 
 teachers, even yet, find it convenient to put down wholly 
 to the account of the Catholic Church. Practically igno- 
 rant of the spoliation and persecution practised under 
 Henry the Eighth of blessed domestic memory of the 
 further persecution which disfigured the " spacious days 
 of great Elizabeth," not to mention the long and shameful 
 history of the Penal Laws, he fixed his mind upon lurid 
 legends of the reign of unhappy Mary Tudor, illustrated 
 by prints in Fox's Book of Martyrs; upon inquisitorial tor- 
 tures, the very thought of which even out of doors in 
 the pleasant spring sunshine made him break into a heavy 
 sweat, and which, by some grotesque perversion of ideas, 
 he believed to be not only the necessary outcome of, but 
 vitally essential to, the practice of the Faith. Against 
 this hideous background he set the calm and stately figure 
 of his beloved friend Iglesias seeing him no longer as the 
 faithful comrade of more than half a lifetime, but as a 
 foreign being, an unknown quantity, a worshipper of 
 graven images, a participant in blasphemous rites, a be- 
 liever, in short, in just all that which sound, respectable, 
 and godly British common sense cast forth, with scorn and 
 contumely, close on four centuries back. He was fright- 
 ened. His everyday, comfortable, jog-trot, little odd and 
 end of a local parochial suburban middle-class world was 
 literally turned upside down and inside out. 
 
 " And however will the wife take it however will she 
 take it ? " he mourned to himself. " To think we have been 
 harbouring a Papist in disguise! I dare not contemplate 
 her feelings. She will be upset. I must keep it from her 
 as long as possible. And Serena, too, and Susan ! I don't 
 know how I can face them. Females are so very eloquent 
 when put out. Of course I have known there was some- 
 thing wrong for a long time past. I saw there was a 
 change in him, and felt there was some cause of coldness ; 
 but it never entered my head it could be as bad as this.
 
 244 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 Oh ! my poor, dear friend. Oh ! my poor Dominic, perhaps 
 I have been overattached to you and this comes as a 
 judgment. It would be hard enough to have anything 
 break up our friendship, but this folly, this dreadful dot- 
 ing apostasy " 
 
 He walked on blindly along the sheltered path between 
 the flower-borders, deaf to remonstrant nurses and scorn- 
 ful, beautiful babes clothed in spotless white. 
 
 " If anything must come between us I would rather it 
 was a woman," he mourned, " ten thousand times rather, 
 whoever and whatever she was, than this."
 
 IT happened on the afternoon of that same day that Eliza 
 Hart, in pursuance of her domestic avocations, had occa- 
 sion to go into Mr. Farge's room on the first floor to lay 
 out a new coverlet on his bed. When, as thus, compelled 
 to enter the apartments of either of the gentleman guests 
 of the establishment it was her practice to leave the door 
 half open, as a concession to propriety in the abstract and 
 a testimony to her own discretion in the concrete. The 
 handsome mahogany doors of Cedar Lodge, unhappily 
 painted white by some vandal of a former inhabitant, being 
 heavy were hung on a rising hinge. Hence, when half 
 open, a space of some three inches was left between the back 
 of the door and the j amb, through which it was easy to get 
 a good view of the hall or the landing unobserved. Little 
 Mr. Farge professed a warm predilection for gay colours, 
 and Eliza had selected the new bedspread with an eye to 
 this fact. It was of bright raspberry-red cotton twill, en- 
 riched with a broad printed border in a flowing design of 
 lemon-yellow tulips and bottle-green leaves. The sales- 
 man, in exhibiting it to her, had described it as " very 
 chaste and pleasing." Eliza herself qualified it as 
 " tasty " ; and had just disposed it, much to her own satis- 
 faction, upon the young man's bed, when her attention 
 was arrested by the tones of an unknown feminine voice in 
 the hall below. Shortly afterwards she heard Frederick, 
 the valet's large footsteps hurtling upstairs at a double, 
 followed by a prolonged and leisurely whispering of silken 
 skirts. Here, clearly, was a matter into which, for the 
 reputation of Cedar Lodge, it was desirable to look with- 
 out delay. Eliza, therefore, moved to the near side of the 
 
 245
 
 246 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 door, and, through the three-Inch aperture afforded by the 
 rising hinge, raked the landing with a vigilant eye. 
 
 The door of Mr. Iglesias' sitting-room immediately op- 
 posite stood open. In the doorway Frederick indulged in 
 explanatory gesticulation. While, slowly ascending the 
 last treads of the stairs, was a lady of unmistakable ele- 
 gance, arrayed in a large black hat with drooping plumes 
 to it, a sable cape the price of which, Eliza felt assured, 
 ran easily into three figures and a black cloth dress in 
 the cut of which she read the last word of contemporary 
 fashion. Arrived at the stair-head the intruder stood still, 
 calmly surveying her surroundings, presenting, as she 
 turned her head, a pale face, very red lips, and eyes so at 
 least it appeared to the vigilant orbs of Eliza quite im- 
 modestly large and lustrous, melancholy and somehow ex- 
 tremely impertinent, too. Then Mr. Iglesias emerged from 
 his sitting-room, an expression upon his countenance which 
 startled Eliza. She very certainly had never seen it before. 
 For a moment the lady looked up at him, as though silently 
 asking some question. Then she patted him lightly upon 
 the back, and passed into the sitting-room hand in hand 
 with him, while Frederick with his best flourish closed the 
 door. 
 
 " Well, of all the things ! " cried Eliza, half aloud ; and, 
 oblivious both of discretion and of the new raspberry-red 
 cotton twill coverlet, she backed, and sat, plump, upon the 
 edge of the bed. Just then, as she asserted in subsequently 
 recounting this remarkable incident, you might have 
 knocked her down with a feather. 
 
 " Of all the things J " she repeated, after an interval of 
 breathless amazement. " And how long has this been go- 
 ing on, I should like to know? So that is the reason of a 
 certain gentleman's iciness, and his stand-offish high- 
 mightiness. Well, I never! And poor darling Peachie,
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 247 
 
 y 
 
 so trustful and confiding all the time; not that she need 
 
 fear comparison with anybody. Bah ! the serpent." 
 
 Nevertheless she was deeply impressed, and fell into a 
 vein of furious speculation as to who this unlooked-for 
 smart lady might be. Then, suddenly remembering the 
 highly compromising nature of her own existing position 
 sitting not only in the lively little Farge's bed-chamber, 
 but actually upon his bed, she rose with embarrassment and 
 haste, and made her way downstairs to the offices treading 
 circumspectly in dread of creaking boards to interview 
 Frederick. But from that functionary she obtained scant 
 information. 
 
 " Zee lady she ask for Mr. Iglesias. I tell her I go to 
 find him. I put her in zee drawing-room." 
 
 " Quite right, Frederick," this encouragingly from 
 Eliza. 
 
 " But she no stay zere. She come again out quick. She 
 not any name, not any visiting card give ; only write some- 
 zing, very fast, on a piece of paper and screw it togezzer. 
 Zen she not wait till I return, but behind me upstairs chase." 
 
 So there was nothing for it, as the great Eliza perceived, 
 but to retire to the drawing-room, and Mrs. Porcher hap- 
 pened to be out note the hour and, with the door discreetly 
 half open, await the descent of the intruder from the floor 
 above. 
 
 " I can just catch darling Peachie, too," she said to 
 herself, " and draw her aside. To meet such a person un- 
 expectedly, on the stairs or in the hall, would be enough to 
 make her turn quite faint."
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 POPPY ST. JOHN laid her hands lightly on Mr. Iglesias' 
 shoulders and smiled at him. She looked very young, yet 
 very worn ; and the corners of her mouth shook. 
 
 " If you were anybody else," she said, " I believe I 
 should give you a kiss. But I am not going to, so don't 
 be nervous, dear man. I'll be perfectly correct, I promise 
 you only I had to come. I have been good, absolutely 
 tiptop beastly good, I tell you. I have washed the slate. 
 It is as clean as a vacuum, as the inside of an exhausted 
 receiver. And I feel as dull as empty space before the 
 creation got started." 
 
 Poppy shivered a little, putting one hand over her eyes, 
 and resting her head with its great black hat and sweep- 
 ing plumes against Mr. Iglesias* chest. And Iglesias 
 quietly put his arm round her, supporting her. The day 
 had been full of experiences. This last, though of a 
 notably different complexion to the rest, promised to be by 
 no means the least searching and surprising. Iglesias 
 steadied himself to take it quite calmly, in his stride ; yet 
 his jaw grew rigid and his face blanched in dread of that 
 which might be coming. 
 
 " I have sent Alaric Barking about his business," Poppy 
 continued hoarsely. " Sent him back to his soldiering, 
 helped to cart him off to that rotten hole, South Africa. 
 He is a smart officer, and he'll make a name, if he don't get 
 shot. And he won't get shot I should feel it in my bones 
 if he' was going to, and I don't feel it. I broke with him 
 more than a month ago. But I had to see him again to 
 say good-bye, this morning, before he sailed." 
 
 Poppy moved a step or two away, turning her back on 
 Iglesias. 
 
 248
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 249 
 
 " And it hurt a jolly lot more than I expected. I don't 
 suppose I am in love " she looked around inquiringly at 
 him, as though expecting him to solve the complicated prob- 
 lem of her affections. " It's not likely at this time of 
 day, is it? But I was fonder of Alaric than I quite knew. 
 He is a good sort, and we have had some ripping times 
 together. He had become a sort of habit, you know ; and 
 when you have knocked about a lot, as I have, you get 
 rather sick at the notion of any change." 
 
 She stood, looking down, leisurely unbuttoning and pull- 
 ing off her long gloves. 
 
 " I don't know that I should have made up my mind 
 to sack him in the end, but that I wanted to please Fallow- 
 feild." 
 
 Mr. Iglesias became very tall. His expression was hard, 
 his eyes alight. This the lady noted. She returned and 
 patted him gently on the back again. 
 
 " There, there, don't sail off on a wrong tack, my be- 
 loved fire-eater. Fallowfeild was quite right. The game 
 was up, really it was ; and he wanted me to walk out, like 
 the gentlemanlike dog, so as to avoid being kicked out. I 
 always knew the break was bound to come some time; and 
 it's a long sight pleasanter to break than to be broken with, 
 don-'t you think so ? You see, Alaric has formed a virtuous 
 attachment." Poppy's lips took a cynical twist. " It 
 was time, high time, he should, if he meant to go in for that 
 line of business at all. The young lady is a niece of Fal- 
 lowfeild's a pretty little girl, really quite pretty I saw 
 her that night we were both at the play all new, and pink 
 and white, and well-bred, and mgenue, and in every respect 
 perfectly suitable." 
 
 Poppy looked mutinously, even mischievously, at Dom- 
 inic Iglesias. 
 
 " Poor, dear old Alaric," she said. " I don't quarrel 
 with him. His elder brother's no children, and there are
 
 250 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 pots and pots of money. That he should want to marry, 
 and that his people should press it on him, is perfectly 
 natural, and obvious, and proper." 
 
 " But," Dominic asked fiercely, " if this young man, 
 Captain Barking, proposes to marry, why has he not 
 married you always supposing you were willing to enter- 
 tain his suit? " 
 
 Poppy flung her long gloves upon the table, unhooked 
 her sable cape and sent it flying to join them. 
 
 " Pou-ah ! I'm hot ! " she exclaimed. " I think I'll sit 
 down, if you have no objection. Yes, that chair, thanks 
 it looks excellently comfortable. By the way, you've got 
 an uncommonly nice lot of things in this room. I am 
 going to make a tour of inspection presently. It pleases 
 me frightfully to see where you live and look at your 
 possessions." She stared absently at the furniture and 
 pictures. " But about my marrying Alaric Barking," she 
 continued. " Well, you see you see, dear man, there is 
 an inconvenient little impediment in the shape of a 
 husband." 
 
 As she finished speaking Poppy folded her hands in her 
 lap. She sat perfectly still, her lips pressed together, 
 watching Mr. Iglesias over her shoulder but without turn- 
 ing her head. He had crossed the room and stood at one 
 of the tall narrow windows, looking out into the bright 
 windy afternoon. 
 
 For here it was in plain English, at last, that underlying 
 secret thing which he had known yet dreaded to know. It 
 begot in him an immense regret and inevitable repulsion at 
 admitted wrongdoing. He made no attempt to juggle 
 with the meaning of her words. Yet, along with them, 
 came a feeling of gladness that Poppy St. John would re- 
 main Poppy St. John still; and a movement of hope in- 
 timate and very tender since in this tragic hour of her 
 history she had come directly to him, asking comfort and
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 251 
 
 sympathy. Dominic, cut to the quick by the defection of 
 the heretofore ever-faithful George Lovegrove, hailed with 
 a peculiar thankfulness this mark of confidence and trust. 
 Sinful, greatly erring, still the Lady of the Windswept 
 Dust had returned to him ; and thereat he soberly, yet very 
 deeply, rejoiced. In truth, the sharp-edged breath of per- 
 secution he had encountered this morning, while paining 
 him, had braced him to high endeavour. The Catholic 
 Church, so he argued, must indeed be a mighty and living 
 power since men fear her so much. And this power he felt 
 to be behind him, sustaining him, inciting him to noble un- 
 dertakings he strong in virtue of her strength, fearless 
 through the courage of her saints, able with the energy of 
 their accumulated merit and their prayers. Again, as on 
 his way home that morning from hearing Mass, the spirit 
 was dominant, his whole nature and outlook purified and 
 exalted by the Divine Indwelling. To fail any human 
 creature calling on him for help would be contemptible, 
 and even dastardly, in one blessed as he himself was. Thus 
 his relation to Poppy St. John fell into line. He could 
 afford to love and serve her well, since he loved and pur- 
 posed, in all things, to serve Almighty God best. 
 
 These meditations occupied but a few moments, yet 
 Poppy's patience ran short. 
 
 " Dominic Iglesias," she cried suddenly, sharply, " I am 
 tired of waiting." 
 
 He crossed the room and stood in front of her, serious 
 but light of heart. 
 
 " See here, it is all right between us? " she asked impera- 
 tively. 
 
 " Yes, all is perfectly right between us," he answered. 
 " Your coming gives me the measure of your faith in me. 
 I am grateful and I am very glad." 
 
 " Ah ! " Poppy said softly. 
 
 She sat forward in her chair, making herself small, pat-
 
 252 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 ting her hands together, palm to palm, between her knees, 
 and swaying a little as she spoke. 
 
 " You see," she went on, " to be quite honest, I didn't 
 break with Alaric simply to enable him to marry and live 
 happy ever after. Nor did I do it exclusively to please 
 Fallowfeild. It would take a greater fool than I am to be 
 as altruistic as all that. I always like to have my run 
 for my money. I I did it more to get you back." 
 
 She paused and raised her head, looking full at him. 
 
 " And I have got you back ? " she said. 
 
 " Yes," he answered, smiling. " I ask nothing better 
 than to come back." 
 
 " Do you mean that you are prepared to take everything 
 on trust after what I have just told you without want- 
 ing explanations ? '* 
 
 " Friendship has no need of explanations," Iglesias said, 
 with a touch of grandeur " that is, as I understand 
 friendship. It accepts what is given without question, or 
 cavilling as to much or to little, leaving the giver alto- 
 gether free. Friendship, as I understand it, should have 
 honourable reticences, not only of speech but of thought; 
 wise economies of proffered sympathy. In its desire of 
 service it should never approach too near or say the word 
 too much ; since, if it is to flourish and obtain the grace of 
 continuance, it must be rooted in reverence for the individ- 
 uality of the person dear to it. This is my belief." His 
 bearing was courtly, his expression very gentle. " There- 
 fore rest assured that whatever confidence you repose in 
 me is sacred. Whatever confidence you withhold from me 
 is sacred likewise." 
 
 Poppy mused a little, a smile on her lips and an enig- 
 matic look in her singular eyes. 
 
 " You're beautiful, dear man," she murmured. " You're 
 very beautiful. You're worth chucking the devil over for ; 
 but you'll take a jolly lot of living up to. So see here,
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 253 
 
 if 
 
 you're bound to look me up pretty constantly just at first, 
 for I tell you life is not going to be exactly a toy-shop 
 for me for some little time to come. You hear? You 
 promise ? " 
 
 " I promise," Iglesias returned. 
 
 " And there's another thing," she continued rather 
 proudly, " a thing men too often blunder over with the 
 very best intentions, bless them, only they do blunder, and 
 that leads to ructions. Please put the question of money out 
 of your head once and for all. I have a certain amount of 
 my own, nothing princely well understood, but quite possi- 
 ble to live on. It was to prevent his playing ducks and 
 drakes with it that I finally left the jackal of a fellow whom 
 I married. Well, I have that, and I have made a little 
 more, one way and another." Poppy permitted herself a 
 wicked grimace. " Poor old Alaric used to tell me I was a 
 great financier wasted, that I should have been invaluable 
 as partner in their family banking concern that's more 
 than he'll ever be, poor chap, unless marriage makes pretty 
 sweeping changes in him. Some of my sources of income 
 naturally are cut off through the cleaning of the slate. 
 For I have been tiptop beastly good indeed I have, as 
 I told you ! No more cards, and oh dear, no more racing. 
 But no doubt Cappadocia will contribute in the way of 
 puppies. Noblesse oblige she realises her duty towards 
 posterity, does Cappadocia. So I shall scrape along quite 
 tidily. And then, as long as I keep my voice and my 
 figure, at a push there's always my profession. You 
 hadn't arrived at the fact that I had a profession? Such 
 is fame, dear man, such is fame. Why, I started as a 
 child-actress at thirteen; and - went on till the jackal made 
 that impossible, like virtue, and self-respect, and a decent 
 home, and a few kindred trifles in favour of which every 
 clean-minded woman has, after all, a strongish prejudice." 
 
 Poppy's voice shook. She had much ado to maintain
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 an indifferent and matter-of-fact manner. Iglesias drew 
 up a chair and sat down beside her. She put out her hand, 
 taking his and holding it quietly. 
 
 " There, that's better," she said. " I feel babyish. I 
 should like a good square cry. But I won't have one. 
 Don't be afraid. The motto is ' No snivelling, full steam 
 ahead.' But as to the stage, I'm not sure that won't prove 
 the solution of most difficulties in the end. Sometimes it 
 pulls badly at my heartstrings, and I shouldn't be half 
 sorry for an excuse for taking to it again. It's a rotten 
 profession for a man, and not precisely a soul-saving one 
 for a woman. But it gives you your opportunity ; and, at 
 bottom, I suppose that's the main thing one asks of life 
 one's opportunity. Too, your art is your art ; and if it is 
 bred in you, you sicken for it. I was awfully glad that 
 night to see you at the play, though in a way it shocked 
 me. It seemed incongruous. Tell me, do you really care 
 for the theatre ? " 
 
 "To a moderate extent I do," Dominic answered. She 
 wanted, so he divined, to give a lighter tone to the conver- 
 sation. He tried to meet her wishes. " I am not a very 
 ardent playgoer, I am afraid. But at the present time I 
 happen to be involved indirectly in theatrical enterprise. 
 I am interested in the production of a play, which I am 
 assured will prove a remarkable success." 
 
 " You're not financing it ? " Poppy asked sharply. 
 
 " Within certain limits I am," he answered, smiling. 
 " An appeal was made to me for help which it would have 
 been cruel to refuse." 
 
 Poppy's expression had become curiously sombre, not to 
 say stormy. She got up and began to roam about the 
 room. 
 
 " I hope to goodness the limits are clearly defined, and 
 very narrow ones, then," she exclaimed. " For my part I 
 don't believe in talent which can't find a market in the
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 255 
 
 ' 
 
 ordinary course of business. I grant you managers some- 
 times put a play on which is no good ; and sometimes cripple 
 what might be a fine play by doctoring it, in deference to 
 the rulings of that archetype of all maiden aunts and in- 
 carnation of British hypocrisy, the censor ; but they very 
 rarely, in my experience, reject a play which has money in 
 it. - Why should they ? Poor brutes, they are not exactly 
 surfeited with masterpieces. The play which requires pri- 
 vate backing, though a record-breaker in the opinion of 
 its author, is usually rubbish in that of the public. And 
 the public, take it all round, is very fairly level-headed and 
 just; you must not judge it by the stupidities of the cen- 
 sor. He represents only an extreme section of it, if at 
 this time of day he really represents anybody a section 
 which does the screaming sitting sanctimoniously at home, 
 getting its information at second-hand through the papers, 
 and never darkens the doors of a play-house at all. More- 
 over, you must remember that the public is master. There 
 is no getting behind its verdict." 
 
 Poppy's peregrinations had brought her back beside Mr. 
 Iglesias again. She patted him on the shoulder. 
 
 " See here, my beloved no-longer-nameless one," she said. 
 " Be advised. Learn wisdom. For I tell you I've been 
 through that gate if ever a woman has. The jackal I 
 wish to heaven we could keep him out of our talk, but, for 
 cause unknown, he persistently obtrudes himself he in- 
 variably does so when I'm hipped and edgy well, you see, 
 he was an unappreciated genius in the way of a dramatist, 
 from which fact I derived first-hand acquaintance with the 
 habits of the species. What I don't know about those ani- 
 mals is not worth knowing. They're just simply vermin, 
 I tell you. Their utter unprofitableness is only equalled 
 by their lunatic vanity. They imagine the whole world, 
 lay and professional, is in league to balk and defraud them. 
 So don't touch them, I entreat you, as you value your peace
 
 256 
 
 of mind and your pocket. They'll bleed you white and 
 never give you a penn'orth of thanks more likely turn 
 on you and make out, somehow or other, you are responsible 
 for the failure of their precious productions. Now let's 
 try to forget them, and talk of pleasanter subjects. These 
 obtrusions of the jackal always bring me bad luck. I'm 
 downright scared at them. Tell me about your goods, 
 your books and your pictures. And show me something 
 which belonged to your mother that is, if it wouldn't 
 pain you to do so. I should like to hold something she had 
 touched in my hands. It would be comforting, somehow. 
 And just set that door wider open, there's a dear. I 
 want to have a look into the other room and see where you 
 sleep." 
 
 For the ensuing half hour Poppy was an enchanting 
 companion, wholly womanly, gentle and delicate; eager, 
 too, with the pretty spontaneous eagerness of a child, at 
 the recital of stories and exhibition of treasures beloved by 
 her companion. The lonely cedar tree, lamenting its exile 
 as the wind swept through the labyrinth of its dry branches, 
 moved her almost to tears. 
 
 "It is tragic," she said; " still, I am glad you have it. 
 It's very much in the picture, and lifts the sentiment of the 
 place out of the awful suburban rut. It's a little symbolic 
 of you yourself, too, Dominic there's style, and poetry, 
 and breeding about it. Only, thank the powers, you differ 
 from it mightily in this, that its best days are over, while 
 you are but in the flower of your age. And your rooms 
 are delightful they're like you, too. The rest of the 
 house? My dear soul, the manservant ushered me into a 
 drawing-room, when I arrived, the colours of which were 
 simply frantic. I bolted. If I'd stayed another five min- 
 utes they'd have given me lockjaw. Now I must go." She 
 smiled very sweetly upon Mr. Iglesias. " I'm better, ten 
 thousand times better," she said. " When I came I was
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 257 
 
 
 rather extensively nauseated by my own virtuous actions. 
 Now it's all square between them and me. Pm good rigfct 
 through, I give you my word I am. If only it'll last ! " 
 
 Poppy's lips quivered, and she looked Iglesias rather 
 desperately in the face. 
 
 " Never fear," he answered, " but that it will last." 
 
 " Still you'll come and see me often, very often, till I 
 settle down into the running? It will be beastly heavy 
 going must be, I'm afraid for a long while yet." 
 
 Dominic Iglesias, holding her hand, bent low and 
 kissed it. 
 
 " I will serve you perfectly, God helping me, as long as 
 I live," he said. 
 
 Five minutes later Mrs. Porcher, supported by the out- 
 raged and sympathetic Eliza, watched, through the aper- 
 ture afforded by the rising hinge of the dining-room door, 
 an unknown lady, escorted by Mr. Iglesias, sweep in whis- 
 pering skirts and costly sables across the hall. 
 
 Passing out and down the white steps, Poppy, usually 
 so light of foot and deft of movement, stumbled, and but 
 for Iglesias' prompt assistance would have fallen headlong. 
 At that same moment de Courcy Smyth, slovenly in dress, 
 with shuffling footsteps, crossed the road, and then slunk 
 aside, his arm jerked up queerly almost as though warding 
 off a blow. 
 
 " No, no, I'm not hurt, not in the least hurt," Poppy 
 said breathlessly, in response to Iglesias' inquiry. " But 
 it's given me a bad fright. I'll go straight home. Put 
 me into the first hansom you see. 'No, I'll go by myself. 
 I'd far rather. I give you my word I'm not hurt ; but I've 
 a lot of things to think about I want to be alone. I want 
 to be quiet. Come soon. I was very happy. Good-bye 
 good-night."
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 A FEATURELESS landscape of the brand of ugliness peculiar 
 to the purlieus of a great city, to that intermediate region 
 where the streets have ended and the country has not yet 
 fairly begun. A waste of cabbagefields the dark lumpy 
 earth between the rows of yellowish stumps strewn with ill- 
 smelling refuse of decaying leaves seen through the rents 
 in a broken, unkempt, quickset hedge. Running parallel 
 with the said hedge, shiny blacktarred palings, shutting off 
 all view of the river. Between these barriers, a long 
 stretch of drab-coloured high road, flanked by slightly 
 raised footpaths, a verge of coarse weedy grass to them 
 in which a litter of rags, torn posters, and much other un- 
 loveliness found harbourage. To the northwest and 
 north, a sky piled to the zenith with mountainous swiftly 
 moving clouds, inky, blue-purple, wildly white, from out 
 the torn bosoms of which rushed, now and again, flurrying 
 showers of hail and sleet driven by a shrieking wind. 
 March was in the act of asserting its proverbial privilege 
 of " going out like a lion " ; but the lion, as seen in this 
 particular perspective, was a frankly ignoble and ill-con- 
 ditioned beast. 
 
 And Poppy St. John, heading up against wind and 
 weather along the left-hand footpath, felt frankly ignoble 
 and ill-conditioned, too. Her poor soul, which had made 
 such valiant efforts to spread its wings and fly heavenward 
 a form of exercise sadly foreign to its habit crawled, 
 once more, soiled and mud-bespattered, along the common 
 thoroughfare of life. At this degradation, her heart over- 
 flowed with bitterness and disgust, let alone the blind rage 
 which possessed her, as of some trapped creature frus- 
 
 258
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 259 
 
 ' 
 
 trated in escape. She had broken gaol, as she fondly 
 imagined, and secured liberty. Not a bit of it! In the 
 hour of reconciliation, of sweetest security, she met her 
 gaoler face to face and heard the key grind in the lock. 
 
 Save for the occasional passing of a market waggon, or 
 high-shouldered scavenger's cart, the road was deserted. 
 Once a low-hung two-wheeled vehicle rattled by, on which, 
 insufficiently covered by sacking, lay a dead horse, the 
 great head swinging ghastly over the slanting tail-board, 
 the legs sticking out stark in front. A man, perched side- 
 ways on the carcass, swore at the rickety crock he was 
 driving, and lashed it under the belly with a short-handled 
 heavy-thonged whip. He was collarless, and the scarlet 
 and orange handkerchief, knotted about his throat, had got 
 shifted, the ends of it streaming out behind him as he lifted 
 his arm and swayed his whole body madly using his whip. 
 Poppy shut her eyes, sickened by the sound and sight. 
 Just then a scourging storm of sleet struck her, causing 
 ' her to turn her back and pause, where a curve in the range 
 of paling offered some slight shelter. For strong though 
 she was, and well furnished against the inclement weather 
 in a thick coaching coat, buttoned up to her chin and down 
 to her feet, her cloth cap tied on with a thick veil, the 
 stinging wind and sleet were almost more than she could 
 face. Her depression was not physical merely, but moral 
 likewise. For over and above her personal and private 
 sources of trouble, it was a day and place whereon evil deeds 
 seemed unpleasantly possible. The swearing driver and 
 dangling head of the dead horse had served to complete her 
 discomfiture; and presently, the storm slackening a little, 
 hearing footsteps behind her, she wheeled round, her chin 
 bravely in the air, but her heart galloping with nervous 
 fright, while her fingers closed down on the butt of the 
 small silver-plated revolver which rested in the right-hand 
 waist pocket of her long coat.
 
 260 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 De Courcy Smyth was close beside her. Poppy set her 
 lips together and braced herself to endure the coming 
 wretchedness. It was some years since she had had speech 
 of him some years, indeed, since she had seen him, save 
 during that brief moment, twenty-four hours previously, 
 as she descended the steps of Cedar Lodge. Even in his 
 most prosperous days he had been unattractive in person, 
 at once untidy and theatrical in dress. Now Poppy regis- 
 tered a distinct deterioration in his appearance. His puffy 
 face, red-rimmed eyes, and shambling gait were odious to 
 her. She noted, moreover, that he was poorly clad. His 
 grey felt hat was stained and greasy ; his ginger-coloured 
 frieze overcoat threadbare at the elbows, thin and stringy 
 in the skirts. The soles of his brown boots were splayed, 
 the upper leathers seamed and cracked. This might de- 
 note poverty. It might, also, only denote carelessness and 
 sloth. In any case, it failed to move her to pity, provok- 
 ing in her uncontrollable irritation ; so that, forgetful of 
 diplomacy, stirred by memories of innumerable kindred 
 provocations in the past, Poppy spoke without preamble, 
 asking him sharply as he joined her: 
 
 " Have you no better clothes than that? " 
 
 Smyth paused before answering, looking her up and 
 down furtively yet deliberately, wiping the wet of his 
 beard and face, meanwhile, with a frayed green silk pocket- 
 handkerchief. 
 
 " It offends your niceness that your husband should 
 dress like a tramp, does it ? " he said hoarsely. " And pray 
 whose fault is it that he is reduced to doing so? Judg- 
 ing by your own costume, you can easily remove that cause 
 of offence if you choose. It does not occur to you, per- 
 haps, that while you live on the fat of the land I, but for 
 the charity of strangers which it is loathsome to me to 
 accept should not have enough to pay for the food I eat 
 or for the detestable garret in which I both work and
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 sleep. Under these circumstances I am scarcely prepared 
 to call in a fashionable tailor to replenish my wardrobe, 
 lest its meagreness should, on the very rare occasions on 
 which I have the honour of meeting you, offer an unpleasing 
 reflection upon your own super-elegance." 
 
 To these observations, delivered with a somewhat hyster- 
 ical volubility, Poppy made no direct reply. Surely it 
 was cruel, cruel, that at this juncture, when she had so 
 honestly striven to refuse the evil and choose the good, this 
 recrudescence of all that was most hateful to her should 
 take place? Moreover, now as always, just that modicum 
 of truth underlay Smyth's exaggerated accusations and 
 perverted statements which made them as difficult to combat 
 as they were exasperating to listen to. For a minute or so 
 Poppy could not trust herself to speak, lest she should give 
 way to foolish invective. His looks, manner, intonation, 
 the phrases he employed were odiously familiar to her. She 
 fought as in a malicious dream, to which the squalor of the 
 surrounding landscape offered an only too appropriate set- 
 ting. Turning, she walked slowly in the direction whence 
 she had come namely, in that of Barnes village and Mort- 
 lake. There the quaint riverside houses would afford some 
 shelter and sense of comradeship. 
 
 " I am sorry to make you come farther out," she said, 
 with an attempt at civility. 
 
 " That is unexpectedly considerate," he commented. 
 
 " But it is impossible to talk in the teeth of this wind," 
 she continued, " and I imagine we're neither of us par- 
 ticularly keen to prolong our interview." 
 
 " Excuse me, speak for yourself," Smyth interrupted. 
 "I find it decidedly interesting to meet my wife again. 
 She has gone up in the world, and climbed the tree of 
 fashion in the interval. I have gone down in the world, 
 as every scholar and gentleman, every man with brains and 
 high standards of art and culture, is bound to go down
 
 262 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 sooner or later, in this hideous age of blatant commer- 
 cialism and Mammon rampant. I don't quarrel with it. 
 I would far rather be one of the downtrodden, persecuted 
 minority. But, just on that account, my wife is all the 
 more worth contemplating, since she offers a highly in- 
 structive object-lesson in the advantages which accrue from 
 allying oneself with the victorious majority. See " 
 
 A rush of wind and flurry of cold rain rendered the 
 concluding words of his tirade inaudible. It was as well, 
 for Poppy was growing wicked, anger dominating every 
 more humane and decent feeling in her. 
 
 " Look here," she said, when the storm had somewhat 
 abated. " I know" that sort of talk as well as my old shoe. 
 Haven't I listened to it for hours? For goodness' sake, 
 quit it. It doesn't wash. Let us come to the point at 
 once without all this idiotic brag and gassing. You wrote 
 me a letter shouting danger and ruin. What did it mean ? 
 Anything real, or merely a melodramatic blowing off of 
 steam? Tell me. Let us have it out and have finished 
 with it. What do you want ? " 
 
 The softening medium of a gauze veil failed to hide the 
 fact that Poppy's expression was distinctly malignant, 
 her great eyes full of sombre fury, her red lips tense. 
 Smyth backed away from her against the palings in 
 genuine alarm. 
 
 " I I believe you'd like to murder me," he said. 
 
 " So I should," Poppy answered. " I should very much 
 like to kill you. And I've the wherewithal here, in my 
 pocket, and there's no one on the road. But you needn't 
 be anxious. I'm not going to murder you. The conse- 
 quences to myself would be too inconvenient." 
 
 As she spoke she thought of yesterday, of the renewal 
 of her friendship with Dominic Iglesias, and of all that he 
 stood for to her in things pure, lovely, and of good report. 
 A sob rose in her throat, for nothing, after all, is so horri-
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 263 
 
 
 ble as to feel wicked; nothing so hard to forgive as that 
 
 which causes one to feel so. Poppy walked on again 
 slowly. 
 
 "What do you want?" she repeated miserably. "Be 
 straight with me for once, if you can, de Courcy, and tell 
 me plainly if there's anything to tell. What is it you 
 want?" 
 
 " I have my chance at last," he said hurriedly, " of 
 fame, and success, and recognition of bringing those who 
 have despised me to their knees. I thought I was safe. 
 But yesterday I found that you yes, you come into the 
 question, that you may stand between me and the real- 
 isation of my hopes more than hopes, a certainty, 
 unless you play some scurvy trick on me. I had to 
 have your promise, and there was no time to lose so I 
 wrote." 
 
 Poppy looked at him contemptuously. 
 
 " What does all that mean ? more money ? " she asked. 
 " Haven't you grown ashamed of begging yet? I raised 
 your allowance last year, and it's being paid regularly 
 Ford & Martin have sent me on your receipts. To give it 
 you at all is an act of grace, for you've no earthly claim 
 on me, and you know it. From the day I married you I 
 never cost you a farthing ; I've paid for everything myself, 
 down to every morsel of bread I put into my mouth. You, 
 talked big about your income beforehand, when you knew 
 you were up to your eyes in debt. Well, in debt you may 
 stay, as far as I am concerned. I'll give you that seventy- 
 five a year if you'll keep clear of me ; but I won't give you 
 a penny more, for the simple reason that I shan't have it 
 to give. It'll be an uncommonly close shave in any case 
 I have myself to keep." 
 
 " Yourself to keep? " Smyth snarled. " Since when have 
 you taken to wholesale lying, my pretty madam? That is 
 a new development."
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 " I'm not lying," Poppy blazed out. " I am speaking 
 honest, sober truth." 
 
 Smyth laughed. It was not an agreeable sound. 
 
 " Is not that a little too brazen ? " he asked. " Even 
 with such a negligible quantity as a deserted husband, it is 
 a mistake to overplay the part." 
 
 Then, frightened by her expression, he slunk aside again. 
 But Poppy did not linger. Slowly, steadily, she walked 
 on down the rain-lashed footpath; 
 
 " For God's sake tell me what you want tell me what 
 you want," she cried, " and let me get away from all this 
 rottenness." 
 
 " You do not believe in me," Smyth replied sullenly, 
 " and that is why it is so difficult to speak to you about 
 this matter. You have always depreciated my powers 
 and scoffed at my talents. No thanks to you I have any 
 self-confidence left." 
 
 " All right, all right," Poppy said. " We can miss out 
 the remainder of that speech. I know it by heart. Come 
 to the point what do you want? " 
 
 " I was just filling in the sketch of the third act." 
 
 Poppy shrugged her shoulders and raised her hands 
 with a despairing gesture. 
 
 "Oh, heavens," she ejaculated, "a play again! Are 
 you mad? You know, just as well as I do, every manager 
 will refuse it unread." 
 
 " It will be unnecessary to approach any manager. I 
 go straight to the public this time. I have the promise of 
 money to meet the expenses of two matinees at least. I 
 have no scruple in accepting it is an investment, and an 
 immensely profitable one for I know the worth of my own 
 work. It is great, nothing less than great 
 
 " Of course," Poppy said. " But pray where do I 
 come in ? " Then she paused. Suddenly she pieced the 
 bits of the puzzle together, saw and understood. Misery,
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 265 
 
 it 
 
 deeper than any she had yet experienced, overflowed in her. 
 " Ah, it is you, then, you who are bleeding Dominic 
 Iglesias," she cried. "Robbing him by appeals to his 
 charity and lying assurances of impossible profits. You 
 shall not do it. I will put a stop to it. You shall not, 
 you shall not ! " 
 
 "-Why?" Smyth inquired. "Do you want all his 
 money yourself? " 
 
 " You dirty hound," Poppy said under her breath. 
 
 ' I did not know of your connection with him till yes- 
 terday," Smyth continued in proportion as Poppy lost 
 herself, he became cool and astute " though we have lived 
 in the same house for the last eighteen months. I supposed 
 you to be in pursuit of larger game than superannuated 
 bank-clerks. However, your modesty of taste, combined 
 with your charming attitude towards me, might, as I per- 
 ceived, lead to complications. I ascertained how long you 
 had been at Cedar Lodge yesterday. Then I wrote to 
 you." 
 
 Poppy stood still in the wind and wet, listening in- 
 tently. 
 
 " For once," he went on exultantly, " it is my turn to 
 give orders, my fine lady, and yours to obey. If you in- 
 terfere, in the smallest degree, between Iglesias and me, I 
 will call his attention to certain facts, the appearance of 
 which is highly discreditable to him. He will pay to save 
 his reputation, if he ceases to pay out of charity not that 
 it is charity. He is making an investment of which, as a 
 business man, he fully appreciates the worth. If you in- 
 terfere I will make his position a vastly uncomfortable one. 
 The women who keep Cedar Lodge are as jealous as cats. 
 It would not require much blowing to make that fire burst 
 into a very lively flame, I promise you." 
 
 " You live there, then ? " Poppy said absently. " You 
 live there? "
 
 266 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 " Yes," he answered. " Does that offend your niceness, 
 too? Do you consider the place too good for me? You 
 need not distress yourself. I have only one room, a small 
 one on the second floor immediately above your friend's 
 handsome sitting-room, but only half the size of it. The 
 floors are old. I can gather a very fair sense of any con- 
 versation taking place below." 
 
 Poppy moved on again. 
 
 " May I inquire what you propose to do ? " Smyth asked 
 presently " warn your mature commercial admirer and 
 compel me, in self-protection, to blast his reputation, or 
 hold your tongue like a reasonable woman ? " 
 
 They had reached the end of the tarred palings. Upon 
 the left the quaintly irregular bow-windowed rose-and-ivy- 
 covered houses of Barnes Terrace no two of them alike in 
 height or in architecture fronted the road. Upon the 
 right was the river, dull-coloured and wind-tormented. A 
 cargo of bricks, supplying a strong note of red in the 
 otherwise mournful landscape, was being unloaded from a 
 barge; carts backed down the slip to within easy distance 
 of the broad bulwarkless deck, horses shivering as they 
 stood knee-deep in the water. The bricks grated together 
 when the men, handling them, tossed them across. With 
 long-drawn thunderous roar and shriek, a train, heading 
 from Kew Station, rushed across the latticed iron-built 
 railway bridge. Poppy waited, watching the progress of 
 it, watching the unloading of the barge. The one perfectly 
 pure and beautiful gift which life had given her was 
 utterly profaned, so it seemed to her; that which she held 
 dearest and best hopelessly entangled with that which to 
 her was most degrading and abhorrent. And what to do ? 
 To be silent was to be disloyal. To speak was to expose 
 Dominic Iglesias to dishonour and disgust far deeper than 
 that which loss of money could inflict. Poppy weighed 
 and balanced, clear that her thought must be wholly for
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 267 
 
 y 
 
 him, not letting anger sway her judgment. Of two evils 
 she must choose that which, for him, was least. 
 
 " I will not give you away. I will say nothing," she 
 said at last. 
 
 " You swear you will not ? " 
 
 " Yes, I swear," Poppy said. 
 
 "J[ want it in writing." 
 
 " Very well, you shall have it in writing, witnessed if 
 you like," she answered. " The precious document shall 
 be posted to you to-night. * Now are you satisfied, you 
 contemptible animal ? Have you humbled me enough ? " 
 
 But Smyth came close to her, pushing his face into hers. 
 He was shaking with excitement, hysterical with mingled 
 fear and relief. 
 
 " I am not ungenerous, my dear girl," he whispered. 
 " I am willing to condone the past to take you back, to 
 acknowledge you as my wife and let you share my success. 
 There is a part in the new play which might have been 
 written for you. You could become world-famous in it. 
 I am not ungenerous, I am willing to make matters up." 
 
 " Do you want me to murder you, after all ? " Poppy 
 asked. " If you try me much further, I tell you plainly, 
 I can't answer for myself. Therefore, as you value your 
 life, let me alone. Get out of my sight."
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 DURING the watches of the ensuing night, amid bellowings 
 of wind in the chimneys, long-drawn complaint of the 
 great cedar tree, rattle of sleet, and those half-heard 
 whisperings and footsteps as of inhabitants long since 
 departed which so often haunt an old house through the 
 hours of dark, Dominic Iglesias' mind, for cause unknown, 
 was busied with reminiscences of the firm of Barking 
 Brothers & Barking, and the many years he had spent in 
 its service. He had no wish to think of these things. 
 They came unbidden, pushing themselves upon remem- 
 brance. All manner of details, of little histories and 
 episodes connected both with the financial and human 
 affairs of the famous banking-house, occurred to him. 
 And from thoughts of all this, but transmogrified and per- 
 verted, when, towards dawn, the storm abating, he at 
 length fell asleep, his dreams were not exempt. For 
 through them caracoled, in grotesque and most irregular 
 inter-relation, those august personages, the heads of the 
 firm, along with his fellow-clerks, living and dead, that 
 militant Protestant, good George Lovegrove, and the whole 
 personnel of the establishment, down to caretaker, messen- 
 ger-boys, porters and the like. Never surely had been such 
 wild doings in that sedate and reputable place of business 
 doings in which gross absurdity and ingenious cruelty 
 went hand in hand; while, by some queer freak of the 
 imagination, poor Pascal Pelletier, of hectic and pathetic 
 memory, appeared as leader of the revels, at which the 
 Lady of the Windswept Dust, sad-eyed, inscrutable of 
 countenance, her dragon-embroidered scarf drawn closely 
 about her shoulders, looked on. 
 
 Dominic arose from his brief uneasy slumbers anxious 
 
 268
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 269 
 
 j/ 
 
 and unrefreshed. The phantasmagoria of his dream had 
 been so living, so vivid, that it was difficult to throw off the 
 impression produced by it. Moreover, he was slightly 
 ashamed to find that, the restraining power of the will 
 removed, his mind was capable of creating scenes of so 
 loose and heartless a character. He was displeased with 
 himself, distressed by this outbreak of the undisciplined 
 and unregenerate " natural man " in him. Later, coming 
 into his sitting-room, he unfortunately found matters 
 awaiting him by no means calculated to obliterate displeas- 
 ing impressions or promote suavity and peace. 
 
 For the pile of letters and circulars lying beside his 
 plate upon the breakfast-table was topped by a note 
 directed in de Courcy Smyth's nervous and irritable hand. 
 Dominic opened it with a curious sense of reluctance. 
 Only last week he had lent the man ten pounds ; and here 
 was another demand, couched in terms, too, so bullying, so 
 almost threatening, that Dominic's back stiffened con- 
 siderably. 
 
 Smyth requested, or rather commanded, that fifty 
 pounds should be delivered to him without delay. " It 
 was conceivable that Mr. Iglesias had not that amount 
 by him in notes. But, since he had really nothing to do, 
 it would be a little occupation for him to go and procure 
 them." Smyth insisted the money should be paid in a lump 
 sum, adding that, his time being as valuable as Iglesias' 
 was worthless, he could not reasonably be expected to 
 waste it in perpetual letters respecting a subject so 
 essentially uninteresting and distasteful to him as that of 
 ways and means. Such correspondence annoyed him, and 
 put him off his work ; and, as it clearly was very much to 
 Iglesias' interest that the play should be finished as soon 
 as possible, it was advisable that he should accede to 
 Smyth's present request without parley and pay up at 
 once.
 
 270 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 Reading this mandatory epistle, Dominic was gravely 
 displeased and hurt. Poppy St. John had warned him 
 against the insatiable and insolent greed of persons of 
 this kidney. He had discounted her speech somewhat, 
 supposing it infected with such prejudice as the recol- 
 lection of private wrongs will breed even in generous 
 natures. Now he began to fear her strictures had been 
 just. The egoism of the unsuccessful is a moral disease, 
 destructive of all sense of proportion. Those suffering 
 from it must be reckoned as insane; not sick merely, but 
 actually mad with self-love. Smyth, to gain his play a 
 hearing, would beggar him Iglesias without scruple or 
 regret. But Dominic had no intention of being beggared 
 in this connection. Thrice-sacred charity is one story ; the 
 encouragement of the unlimited borrower, the fostering of 
 so colossal a selfishness quite another. A point had been 
 reached where to accede to Smyth's demands was culpable, 
 a consenting, indeed, to wrongdoing. Here then was 
 occasion for careful consideration. Iglesias gravely laid 
 the offensive missive aside, and proceeded to eat his break- 
 fast before opening the rest of his letters. In the intervals 
 of the meal he glanced at the contents of the morning 
 paper. 
 
 The war news was unimportant. A skirmish or two, 
 leaving a few more women's lives maimed and hearts 
 desolate. A lie or two of continental manufacture, tend- 
 ing to blacken the fair fame of the most humane and good- 
 tempered army which, in all probability, ever took the field. 
 A shriek or two from soft-handed sentimentalists at home, 
 who for reasons best known to themselves are ardent 
 patriots of every country save their own. Such items 
 formed too permanent a part of the daily menu, during 
 the year of grace 1900, to excite more than passing notice. 
 At the bottom of the column a paragraph of a more 
 unusual character attracted Iglesias' attention. It
 
 THE FARfHORIZON 271 
 
 y 
 
 announced it had authority for stating that alarmist 
 rumours, current regarding the unstable financial posi- 
 tion of a certain well-known and highly respected London 
 bank, were grossly exaggerated. No doubt the losses 
 suffered by the bank in question had been severe, owing 
 to its extensive connection with land and mining property 
 in "South Africa, and the disorganisation of business in 
 that country consequent upon the war. The said losses 
 were, however, of a temporary character, and had by no 
 means reached the disastrous proportions commonly re- 
 ported. Granted time, and a reasonable amount of 
 patience on the part of persons most nearly interested, the 
 storm would be successfully weathered, and the bank would 
 resume the leading position which it had so long and 
 honourably enjoyed. No names were given, but Iglesias 
 had small difficulty in supplying them. It appeared to him 
 that Barking Brothers must be in considerable straits or 
 they would never, surely, put forth disclaimers of this 
 description. His mind went back upon the dreams which 
 had left such disquieting impressions upon his mind. In 
 the light of that newspaper paragraph they took on an 
 almost prophetic character. Absently he turned over the 
 rest of the pile of letters, selected one, the handwriting 
 upon the envelope of which was at once well-known and 
 perplexing to his memory, opened it, and turned to the 
 signature to find that of no less a personage than Sir Abel 
 Barking himself. 
 
 During the next quarter of an hour Dominic Iglesias 
 lived hard in thought, in decision, in .struggle with per- 
 sonal resentment bred by remembrance of scant courtesy 
 and ingratitude meted out to him. He learned that 
 Messrs. Barking Brothers & Barking's embarrassments 
 did, in point of fact, skirt the edge of ruin. Their affairs 
 were in apparently inextricable confusion, owing to Reg- 
 inald Barking's reckless speculations, while, to add to the
 
 272 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 general confusion, that strenuous young man had broken 
 down utterly from nervous overstrain, and was, at the 
 present time, incapable of the slightest mental or physical 
 exertion. Things were at a deadlock. " Under these ter- 
 rible circumstances," Sir Abel Barking wrote, " I turn to 
 you, my good friend, as a person intimately acquainted 
 with the operations of our firm. Your experience may be 
 of service to us in this crisis, and, in virtue of the many 
 benefits you have received from us in the past, I unhesitat- 
 ingly claim your assistance. In my own name and that 
 of my partners, I offer to reinstate you in your former 
 position, but with enlarged powers. It has always been 
 my endeavour, as you are well aware, to reward merit and 
 to treat those in our employment with generosity and con- 
 sideration. You will be glad, I am sure, to embrace this 
 opportunity of repaying, in some small measure, your debt 
 towards me and mine." More followed to the same effect. 
 Neither the taste of the writer nor his manner of expres- 
 sion was happy. Of this Dominic was quite sensible. 
 Patronage, especially after his period of independence, 
 was far from agreeable to him. Yet behind the verbiage, 
 the platitudes and bombastic phrases, his ear detected a 
 very human cry of fear and cry for help. Should he 
 accede, doing his best to allay that fear and render that 
 help? 
 
 He rose, still holding the wordy letter in his hand, and 
 paced the room. Of his own ability to render effective 
 help, were he allowed freedom of action, Iglesias enter- 
 tained little doubt always supposing that the situation 
 did not prove even worse than he had present reason for 
 supposing. It was not difficult to see how the trouble had 
 come about. The senior partners, lulled into false security 
 by lifelong prosperity, had grown supine and inert. 
 Sooner, in their opinion, might the stars fall from heaven 
 than the august house of Barking prove unsound of
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 273 
 
 y 
 
 foundation or capable of collapse! To hint at this, even 
 as a remote possibility, was little short of blasphemous. 
 Their amiable nephew, meanwhile, had regarded them as 
 a flock of silly fat geese eminently fitted for plucking. He 
 let them complacently hiss and cackle, congratulate them- 
 selves upon their worldly wisdom and conspicuous moder- 
 nity, while, all the time, silently, diligently, relentlessly 
 plucking. Now, awakening suddenly to the fact of their 
 nudity, they were in a terrible taking; scandalised, flus- 
 tered, very sore, poor birds, and quite past recollecting 
 that feathers grow again if the system is sound and the 
 cuticle healthy. To Iglesias these purse-proud, self- 
 righteous, middle-aged gentlemen presented a spectacle at 
 once pathetic and humorous in their present sad plight. 
 A calm head and clear judgment might do much to 
 ameliorate their position, and a calm head and cool judg- 
 ment he was confident of possessing. Only was he, after 
 all, disposed to place these useful possessions at their 
 service ? 
 
 For in the last nine months Dominic Iglesias' habits 
 and outlook had changed notably. The values were 
 altered. It would be far harder to return to the monoto- 
 nous routine of business life now even though a fine 
 revenge, a delicate heaping of coals of fire, accompanied 
 that return than it had been to part company with it 
 last year. Loneliness, the emptiness induced by absence 
 of definite employment, no longer oppressed him. Holy 
 Church had cured all that, giving him a definite place, 
 and definite purpose, beautiful duties of prayer and wor- 
 ship, the restrained, yet continuous, excitement of the 
 pushing forward of soul and spirit upon the fair, strange, 
 daily, hourly journey towards the far horizon and the 
 friendship of Almighty God. His retirement had become 
 very dear to him, since it afforded scope for the conscious 
 prosecution of that journey. Dominic's state of mind,
 
 in short, was that of the lover who dreads any and every 
 outside demand which may, even momentarily, distract his 
 attention from the object of his love. Threadneedle 
 Street, the glass and mahogany walled corridors, and the 
 moral atmosphere of them money-getting and of this 
 world conspicuously worldly were not these ironically 
 antagonistic to the journey upon which he had set forth 
 and the habit of mind necessary to the successful prosecu- 
 tion of it? There was Poppy St. John, too, and the closer 
 relation of friendship into which he had just entered with 
 her. This must not be neglected. And, thinking of her, 
 he could not but think of that younger son of the great 
 banking-house, Alaric Barking, and his dealings with her 
 enjoying her as long as it suited him to do so, leaving 
 her as soon as his passion cooled and a more advantageous 
 social connection presented itself. Towards the handsome 
 young soldier Iglesias was, it must be owned, somewhat 
 merciless. Why should he go to the rescue of this young 
 libertine's family, and indirectly facilitate his marriage, 
 and increase its promise of happiness, by helping to secure 
 him an otherwise vanishing fortune? Let him pay the 
 price of his illicit pleasures and become a pauper. Such 
 a consummation Dominic admitted he, personally, could 
 face with entire resignation. 
 
 And yet yet on closer examination were not these 
 reasons against undertaking the work offered him based 
 upon personal disinclination, personal animosity, rather 
 than upon plain right and wrong, and, consequently, were 
 they not insufficient to justify abstention and refusal? 
 That earlier dream of his, on the night following his dis- 
 missal last year, came back to him, with its touching mem- 
 ories of the narrow town garden behind the old house in 
 Holland Street, Kensington the golden laburnum, the 
 shallow stone basin beloved of sooty sparrows, poor, dear 
 Pascal Pelletier and his Huntley & Palmer's biscuit-box
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 275 
 
 a 
 
 infernal machine and very crude methods of adjusting the 
 age-old quarrel between capital and labour. On that occa- 
 sion the lonely little boy, though at risk of grave injury 
 to himself, had not hesitated to save the ill-favoured chunk- 
 faced grey cat which bore in speech and appearance so 
 queer a likeness to Sir Abel Barking from the ugly fate 
 awa'iting it. He had gathered it tenderly in his arms, pity- 
 ing and striving to heal it. Was the child, by instinct, 
 finer, nobler, more self-forgetful, than the man in the full 
 possession of reason, instructed in the divine science, for- 
 tified by the example and merits o the saints ? That would, 
 indeed, be a melancholy conclusion. And so it occurred 
 to him, not merely as conceivable but as incontestable, 
 that the road to the far horizon, instead of leading in the 
 opposite direction to the city banking-house, for him, at 
 this particular juncture, led directly into and through it; 
 so that to refuse would be to stray from the straight path 
 and risk the obscuring of the blessed light by a cowardly 
 and selfish lust of the immediate comfort of it. 
 
 He would go and help those distracted plucked geese 
 to grow new feathers. Only to do so meant time, labour, 
 unremitting application, a wholesale sacrifice of leisure; 
 so he must see Poppy St. John first.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 " I DID not call yesterday," Iglesias said, " in consequence 
 of your prohibitory telegram. But to-day I have come 
 early and without permission, first because I was anxious 
 to assure myself you were really unhurt, and secondly be- 
 cause something has occurred regarding which I wish to 
 consult you. I must have your sanction before taking 
 action in respect of it." 
 
 Entering from the blustering wind and keen, fitful sun- 
 shine without, the little drawing-room struck Iglesias as 
 both stuffy and dingy. And Poppy, standing in the centre 
 of it, huddled in a black brocade tea-gown, a sparse pattern 
 of bluey mauve rosebuds upon it, which hung in limp folds 
 from her bosom to her feet, concealing all the outline of 
 her figure, came perilously near looking dingy likewise. 
 The garment, cut square at the neck, had long seen its 
 first youth. The big outstanding black ribbon bow be- 
 tween her shoulders and that upon her breast was creased 
 and crumpled. Beneath the masses of her dark hair her 
 face looked almost unnaturally small, sallow and bloodless, 
 while her eyes were enormous dusky dwelling-places, as it 
 seemed to her visitor, of some world-old sorrow. Her face 
 did not light up, neither did she make any demonstration 
 of gladness or greeting, but stood, one toy spaniel tucked 
 under either arm, their forelegs lying along her wrists, 
 their fringed paws resting upon her palms. Dominic had 
 a conviction she had snatched up the little dogs on hearing 
 his voice, and held them so as to render it impossible for 
 him to take her hand. Less than ever, looking upon her, 
 had he any mercy for Alaric Barking. Less than ever did 
 the prospect of spending weeks, perhaps months, in shor- 
 
 276
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 277 
 
 y 
 
 ing up the imperilled fortunes of that young gentleman's 
 family prove alluring to him. 
 
 " You were hurt," he broke out, almost fiercely. " You 
 are suffering, and, worse, you are unhappy. It makes 
 me very angry to see you thus. I wish I could reach 
 those who are guilty of having distressed and injured 
 you." 
 
 Poppy's face went a shade paler, and alarm mingled 
 with the sorrow in her eyes, but she made a courageous 
 effort to patter as usual. 
 
 " You'd give them the what for, dear man, wouldn't 
 you ? " she said. " But you would have to go way back 
 in the ages for that, and get behind the seed-sowing of 
 which this gay hour is the harvest. Still, I love to see 
 you ferocious. It is very flattering to me, and it's mightily 
 becoming to you. Don't snore, Cappadocia. Manners, 
 my good child, manners. All the same, I wasn't hurt slip- 
 ping on those gorgeous white steps of yours. Upon my 
 honour, I wasn't. But I had to go out yesterday after- 
 noon, and I got caught in one of those infernal hailstorms. 
 It was altogether too cold for comfort, and I feel a bit 
 cheap this morning in consequence. That's why I put on 
 this odious gown. I always try to dress for the part, and 
 the part just now is dismality. From the start this gown 
 has been a disappointment. I counted on the roses fading 
 pink, but the beasts faded blue instead. I feel as if I was 
 dressed in a bruise, and that's appropriate for I also 
 feel as if I had been beaten all over. Merely the hail I 
 give you my word. Nothing more than that. I'm never 
 ill." Poppy paused, dropped the little dogs on the floor. 
 They cowered against her, looking up woefully at her. 
 " No, I don't want you," she said. " You're heavy. I'm 
 tired of you." 
 
 i Then she blew her nose, and, over the top of her hand- 
 kerchief, looked full at Iglesias for the first time.
 
 278 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 " Well, what is it ? What do you want my sanction 
 for?" 
 
 Without waiting for his answer she swept aside, knelt 
 down, crouching over the fire, extending both hands to the 
 heat of it, while her open sleeves falling back showed her 
 arms bare to the elbow. 
 
 " Tell me, and, if you don't mind, shove along. I own 
 I am a trifle jumpy only the weather but I need 
 humouring, so shove along, there's a good dear," she said. 
 
 Whereupon, in as few words as possible, Dominic un- 
 folded to her the contents of Sir Abel Barking's letter. As 
 she listened, Poppy raised herself, turned round, stood 
 upright, her hands clasped behind her. 
 
 " Oh ! that's it, is it ? " she said. She looked less blood- 
 less, more animated, more natural. " I'm not altogether 
 surprised. The poor old lads have found out the cuckoo 
 in their nest at last, have they? Alaric had a notion 
 Reginald Barking not a nice person Reginald I saw 
 him once and he looked a cross between a pair of forceps 
 and a bag of shavings I didn't trust him you don't, do 
 you? Alaric had a notion this precious cousin was making 
 hay of the whole show. But it was utterly useless for him 
 to intervene. In the eyes of the elder generation he is the 
 original dog with a bad name, only fit for hanging." 
 
 Poppy paused, took a long breath, smiled a little. 
 
 " What do you think ? Is it a very bad business ? " 
 
 ** I cannot tell till I have gone into details," Iglesias 
 replied. He was slightly put about by the lady's change 
 of demeanour, by the interest she displayed, by the altera- 
 tion in her expression and bearing. 
 
 " And they howl to you to save the sinking ship ? " 
 Poppy continued lightly. " Shall you go ? " 
 
 " That is the question I have come to ask you." 
 
 " To ask me? " she said. " But, heart alive, dear man, 
 where do I come in? "
 
 ,THE- FAR HORIZON 279 
 
 " My duty to you 'stands before every other duty," 
 Iglesias answered gravely. " Those who have caused you 
 sorrow and injured you, are my enemies. How can it be 
 otherwise? A member of this family I do not choose to 
 name him has, in my opinion, played a detestable part 
 by you; therefore only with your sanction, freely given, 
 can J consent to be helpful to his relatives." 
 
 The colour leaped into Poppy's cheeks, the light into 
 her eyes, her lips parted in pretty laughter; yet she still 
 kept her hands clasped behind her back. 
 
 " Ah ! I see I see," she cried. " But how did you con- 
 trive to get left behind, most beloved lunatic, and be born 
 five or six centuries out of your time into this shouting, 
 pushing, modern world which knows not chivalry? Do 
 you imagine this is the fashion most men treat women? 
 Here I am laughing, yet I could cry that you should come 
 to me me, of all people on such a lovely, fine, fanciful 
 errand." 
 
 " My conduct appears to me perfectly obvious and 
 simple," Iglesias replied rather coldly. 
 
 " I know it does, my dear, and there's the pathetic 
 splendour of it," Poppy declared, soft mothering tones in 
 her voice. " All the same we must keep our heads screwed 
 on the right way. So, tell me, will it be of any personal 
 advantage to you to help pull these elderly plungers out 
 of the quagmire? " 
 
 " None whatever." 
 
 " At least they will make it worth your while by paying 
 up handsomely ? " 
 
 " No doubt they will make me some offer, but I shall 
 decline it," Iglesias said. " I draw a pension. I will con- 
 tinue to do so. That is just. I have a right to it in virtue 
 of my past work. But I shall refuse to accept any salary 
 over and above that. I shall make it a condition that I 
 give my services. And that which I give I give, whether
 
 280 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 it be to king or to beggar. To make profit out of my 
 giving would be intolerable to me." 
 
 Poppy mused, her head bent, pushing away the tiny 
 dogs with her foot as they fawned upon her. 
 
 " Don't bother ! you little miseries," she said, " don't 
 bother! I'm busy now. I've no use for you." Presently 
 she glanced up at Mr. Iglesias, who held himself proudly, 
 as he stood waiting before her. " Do you care for these 
 Barking people? Is it a question of affection between any 
 of them and you?" 
 
 " I am afraid not," he answered. " Ours has been a 
 purely business connection throughout. How should it be 
 otherwise? The social interval between employers and em- 
 ployed is not easily bridged." 
 
 " Stuff-a-nonsense ! " Poppy put in scornfully. " They 
 might feel honoured to tie your shoe." 
 
 " Any attempt to ignore differences of wealth and 
 station, which others are pleased to remember, would be 
 unbecoming," he continued. " Nor do I relish condescen- 
 sion on the part of my social betters. It does not suit me. 
 I prefer to remain within my own borders. Still, there 
 is the tie of long association with these merchant princes 
 and their undertakings, and this, I own, influences me 
 strongly. It would be shocking to me to witness the failure 
 or ruin of those with whom I have been in daily intercourse. 
 Then, too, there is a certain challenge in the present posi- 
 tion which appeals to the fighting instinct in me. If not 
 altogether by nature, still by habit I am a business man. 
 Affairs interest me, and consequently the more embarrassed 
 and apparently hopeless the existing state of things is, 
 the greater would be my satisfaction in mastering the in- 
 tricacies of it and reducing them to order. These practical 
 matters are not without very real excitement and drama to 
 those who have the habit of handling them." Iglesias 
 paused, and then added quietly, " But I am contented
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 281 
 
 enough as I am, and should not voluntarily have touched 
 business again had there not been another consideration 
 over and above those I have enumerated namely, the plain 
 obligation of right doing, whether the said doing be con- 
 genial to one or not. This obligation is supreme, or should 
 be so, in the case of one who, like myself, has bound himself 
 by definite acts of obedience and self -dedication." 
 
 His expression had changed, taking on something of 
 exaltation. He no longer looked at Poppy, but away to 
 the far horizon and the light thereon resident. 
 
 And the Lady of the Windswept Dust was quick to 
 realise this, though upon what fair unseen object the eyes 
 of his spirit did, in fact, rest she was ignorant. Against 
 it the vanity inherent in her womanhood rebelled. She was 
 piqued and jealous of the unnamed, unknown object which 
 absorbed his attention more than she herself and her friend- 
 ship did. From the first Iglesias had appealed to her very 
 various nature in a threefold manner. To the artist in her 
 he appealed by the clearness of his individuality, his finish 
 of person and of feature, his gravity and poise these last 
 taking their rise not in insensibility, but in reasoned will, 
 in passionate emotion held, as she had learned, austerely in 
 check. He appealed to the motherhood in her by his un- 
 worldliness, by his ignorance of base motives, thus making 
 her attitude towards him protective; she instinctively try- 
 ing to stand between him and a naughty world, to stand, 
 too, between him and her own too often naughty self. He 
 appealed to the child in her by the exotic and foreign 
 elements in him, which captivated her fancy, endowing 
 him with an effect of mystery, making him seem to hail 
 from some region of legend and high romance. But the 
 events of the last few days had been far from beneficial to 
 Poppy St. John. They had demoralised her, so that the 
 artistic, maternal, and childlike aspects of her nature were 
 alike overlaid by the bitterness, the cynicism, the reckless-
 
 282 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 ness engendered by her unhappy childless marriage and 
 the irregular life she had led. Poppy's feet were held 
 captive in the quicksands of the things of sense; her out- 
 look was concrete and gross. Finer instincts lit up but 
 momentary flickering fires in her, speedily dying out into 
 the gloom begotten by the deplorable scene of yesterday 
 with her husband, and shame at the conspiracy of silence 
 into which, as the lesser of the two evils presented to her, 
 she had entered, remembrances of which, on his first ar- 
 rival, had made her feel unworthy and a traitor in the 
 presence of Iglesias. This demoralisation worked in her 
 to rebellion against just all that which, in her happier 
 moods, rendered Iglesias delightful to her. His exaltation, 
 his calm, the mystery which so delicately surrounded him, 
 the very distinction of his appearance irritated her, so soon 
 as she became conscious that she was no longer the sole 
 object of his thoughts. She was pushed by a bad desire 
 to force from him a more complete self-revelation, to 
 cheapen him in some way and break him up. 
 
 " Dominic Iglesias," she cried suddenly and impera- 
 tively, " you are a trifle too empyrean. I don't quite be- 
 lieve in you. Be more ordinary, more vulgarly human. 
 For who are you, after all? What are you? " she said. 
 
 And he, his thoughts recalled from a great distance, 
 regarded her questioningly and as without immediate 
 recognition. Her voice was harsh, and the transition was 
 so abrupt from the radiant land of the spirit to the dingy 
 realities of Poppy's drawing-room, her tired, black, bluey- 
 mauve patterned tea-gown, and her absurdly artificial 
 little dogs. It took him some few seconds to adjust him- 
 self. Then he smiled in apology, and spoke very courte- 
 ously and gently. 
 
 " Who am I, what am I, dear friend ? Why this, I 
 think a commonplace, very ordinary person who, long 
 ago, in early childhood, by mournful accident, for which
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 283 
 
 ' 
 
 it would be an impiety to hold those on whom he was 
 dependent responsible, lost his sight. Through all the 
 
 years which men count, and rightly, the best of life 
 
 when courage is high and the hand strong, and oppor- 
 tunity fertile, circumstance as a block of precious many- 
 coloured marble out of which to carve fine fortune for 
 ourselves and those we love he wandered in darkness, 
 insecure of footing, missing the very end and object for 
 which earthly existence has been bestowed upon us mortals. 
 He was sad and homesick for that which he had not; yet 
 ignorant of the nature of his own loss, disposed to blame 
 the constitution of things, rather than his own incapacity, 
 for that which he suffered." 
 
 "And then?" Poppy put in sharply. Listening, she 
 had started to mock, the cynic and worldling being hot in 
 her, but, looking at the speaker, somehow, she dared not 
 mock. 
 
 " And then recently since I have known you in short, 
 it has pleased Almighty God by degrees to restore my 
 sight." 
 
 Poppy regarded him intently, her singular eyes wide 
 with question and with doubt, her lips pressed together. 
 
 " I see you have got religion," she said. " But do you 
 seriously mean to tell me that I I have had anything 
 to do with that?" 
 
 " Yes," Iglesias answered. " You have had much to 
 do with it. First by love for your friendship woke up 
 my heart. Then by sorrow " he paused, divided by the 
 desire to spare her and to tell her the whole of his thought 
 " sorrow, when I came to know you better and value 
 your character and gifts at their true worth, because I saw 
 noble things put to ignoble uses, which of all pitiful sights 
 is perhaps the most profoundly pitiful." 
 
 Silence followed, broken only by minute and reproach- 
 ful snorings on the part of Cappadocia and her spouse.
 
 284 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 The little dogs, sensible of neglect, had become the victims 
 of wounded self-love, that most primitive, as it is the most 
 universal, of passions throughout all grades of living 
 things. Poppy meanwhile turned her head aside, unable 
 or unwilling to speak. Again she blew her nose with com- 
 plete disregard of the unromantic quality of that action, 
 then said huskily : 
 
 " I have cleaned the slate. I shall keep it clean." Her 
 voice grew steadier. A touch of malice came into her 
 expression. " I like compliments, and you have paid me 
 about the biggest I ever had. It will take a little time to 
 digest. So I think I think, dear man, I will not stand in 
 the way of your going back to the City, and saving the 
 sinking ship that is, if the work won't be too hard for 
 you?" 
 
 " No," he answered, touched by her more gracious 
 aspect, yet slightly confused. " I have had nearly a year's 
 holiday and rest; I am quite equal to work. But I am 
 afraid the hours must necessarily be long, and that my op- 
 portunities of coming to see you will not be very frequent." 
 
 " Perhaps that's just as well," she said, " while I am 
 still in process of digesting the big compliment." 
 
 Then impulsively she swept up to him and laid her hands 
 on his shoulders, looking him full in the face. 
 
 " See here, you thrice dear innocent, since you have 
 mentioned that terrible word * love,' the complexion of our 
 relation has changed somewhat. Don't you understand, 
 made as I am, I must fight seven devils within me if I'm to 
 continue to play fair with you, as I swore I would? And 
 so, just because you are so very much to me, I had best 
 not see you too often until I have settled down into my 
 new scheme of life. In a sense Alaric was a safeguard. 
 That safeguard's gone." 
 
 She moved a step back, letting her hands fall at her 
 sides, while her eyes grew hard and dark.
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 285 
 
 " And there are other reasons, brutal, unworthy, sordid 
 reasons, why it is wiser that you should not come here often 
 at present. They did not exist at least I had not the 
 faintest conception that they did when we last met. 
 They have rushed into hateful prominence since. Don't 
 ask me I cannot tell you. You must trust me, and you 
 must not let my silence alienate you. I can't be explicit, 
 but I give you my word I am perfectly straight. And you 
 must not let your religion alienate you either. By the 
 way, what form of faith is it ? " 
 
 1 The faith of my own people," Dominic answered. 
 " The faith of the Catholic Church." 
 
 Poppy smiled. 
 
 " Then I am not so afraid I shall lose you," she said, 
 " for that's the only brand of religion I've ever come 
 across which isn't too nice to reckon with human nature 
 as it really is. It can save sinners, just because it knows 
 how to make saints and it has made them out of jolly 
 unpromising material at times, there's the comfort of it." 
 
 She held out her hand in farewell. 
 
 " Good-bye till next time. You've done me good, as 
 you always do. Now, I am going to re-study some of my 
 old parts, just to get the hang of the whole show again." 
 
 But the door once shut, she flung herself down on the 
 broad settee, while the tiny dogs, whimpering, crowded 
 upon her lap. 
 
 " Poppy St. John, you're not such a bad lot after all," 
 she cried. " But oh ! oh ! oh ! it's beastly rough to be so 
 young, and have gone so far, and know so much. There, 
 Willie Onions, don't snivel. It's both superfluous and 
 unpleasant." She sat up and wiped her eyes. " Upon 
 my honour, I think it was just as well I gave Phillimore 
 the little revolver last night, to lock up in the plate chest," 
 she said.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 IT followed that Dominic Iglesias walked on across the 
 common to Barnes Station and travelled Citywards, 
 solaced and uplifted in spirit, yet greatly troubled by 
 the idea of those newly arrived complications at which 
 the Lady of the Windswept Dust had hinted. He did 
 not permit himself to inquire what they might be. Doubt- 
 less she knew best in her social sense he had great con- 
 fidence so he acquiesced in her silence about them. Still, 
 as he reflected, it is not a little lamentable that even 
 friendship, the angelic relation between man and woman, 
 should be thus beset by perils from within and pitfalls 
 without. Where lay the fault with over-civilisation and 
 the improper proprieties resultant therefrom? Or was it 
 of far more ancient origin, resident in the very founda- 
 tions of human nature? Woman, eternally the vehicle of 
 man's being, eternally the inspiration of quite three-fifths 
 of his action ; yet, at the same time, the eternal stumbling 
 block and danger to the highest of his moral and intellect- 
 ual attainment ! Mr. Iglesias smiled sadly and soberly to 
 himself as the train rolled on into Waterloo. In any case 
 she remains the most astonishing of God's creatures. It 
 would be dull enough here on earth without her, though, 
 to employ one of Poppy's characteristic phrases, " it's 
 most infernally risky " with ! 
 
 But once inside the bank, such far-ranging meditations 
 gave place to considerations immediate and concrete, 
 Iglesias' whole mind being focussed to arrive at the facts 
 of the case. And this was far from easy. For alarm 
 stalked those usually self-secure and self-complacent rooms 
 and glass and mahogany-walled corridors ; men looking up 
 
 286
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 287 
 
 / 
 
 from their desks as he, Iglesias, passed, with anxious faces, 
 or moving with hushed footsteps as though someone lay 
 sick to death within the house. In Sir Abel Barking's 
 private room the drama reached its climax, panic sitting 
 there sensibly enthroned. Her chill presence had visibly 
 affected Sir Abel, causing the contrast between the over- 
 blown portrait upon the wall and the subject of it to be 
 ironical to the point of cruelty. For Sir Abel was aged 
 and shrivelled. His clothes hung loose upon him. Hardly 
 could he rally his tongue to the enunciation of a single 
 platitude even of the most obviously staring sort. The 
 mighty, indeed, were fallen and the weapons of wealth- 
 getting perished ! Yet never had Iglesias felt so drawn in 
 sympathy towards his late employer, for the spectre of 
 possible ruin had made Sir Abel almost humble, almost 
 human. 
 
 " I am obliged to you for responding to my summons 
 so promptly yes, sit down, my good friend, sit down," he 
 said. " It is necessary that I should converse with you at 
 some length, and I refuse to keep you standing. Our pres- 
 ent position is inexplicable to me. Granting that my 
 nephew Reginald is unworthy of the trust we reposed in 
 his ability and probity, there was still our own judgment 
 in reserve, and our own unquestioned capacity to meet any 
 strain upon our resources. That our confidence in these 
 last was misplaced is still incredible to me. I am com- 
 pletely baffled. The past few months, indeed, with their 
 reiterated discovery of difficulty and of loss, have been a 
 terrible tax upon my fortitude. Veteran financier though 
 I am, I own to you, Iglesias, there have been moments when 
 I feared that I, too, should give way. Only my sense of the 
 duty I owe to my own reputation has supported me." Sir 
 Abel turned sideways in his chair. His eyes sought the 
 derisive portrait upon the wall, contemplation of which 
 appeared to reanimate his self-confidence somewhat, for
 
 288 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 he continued in his larger manner, " Nor has the sting of 
 private anxiety been lacking. My younger son has been 
 called away to the seat of war under circumstances of a 
 peculiarly affecting character. My earnest hopes for his 
 future, in the shape of a very desirable marriage, touched 
 on fulfilment '' 
 
 But here Iglesias intervened. For his temper began to 
 rise at the mention of the loves of Alaric Barking. If the 
 springs of Christian charity, just now welling up so 
 sweetly within him, were not to run incontinently dry, the 
 conversation, he felt, must be steadied down to themes of 
 other import. So he civilly but definitely requested Sir 
 Abel to " come to Hecuba," and to Hecuba the poor man, 
 haltingly yet very obediently, came. He and his ex-head- 
 clerk seemed, indeed, to have changed places, so that, 
 before the end of the interview, Iglesias began to measure 
 himself as never before, to realise his own business acumen, 
 his quickness of apprehension, his grasp of the issues pre- 
 sented to him and his own fearlessness of judgment. 
 Whatever the upshot as to the eventual saving of the credit 
 of Messrs. Barking Brothers & Barking, Iglesias became 
 increasingly confident of his own power, and quietly satis- 
 fied in the exercise of it. 
 
 And so it happened that, although tired in brain and 
 body, his mind weighted with thought, as were his arms 
 with bundles of papers which he carried home for more 
 leisurely inspection Iglesias came rapidly up the white 
 steps of Cedar Lodge that night. He was buoyant in 
 spirit, content with his day's work, keenly interested in 
 the development of it. Using his latchkey he entered the 
 square panelled hall silently with results, for revels were 
 in progress within. 
 
 Dinner was over. Mrs. Porcher and the great Eliza, 
 linked arm in arm, stood near the dining-room door watch- 
 ing, while those two gay young sparks, Farge and Worth-
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 289 
 
 ington, inspired by memories of a recent visit to the 
 Hippodrome, played at lions. It was a simple game, still 
 it gave pleasure to the players. Clad in an easy-fitting 
 dark blue " lounge suit," with narrow white cross-bar lines 
 on it, an aged and faded orange sheep-skin hearthrug 
 thrown gallantly across his shoulders, Farge, on all fours, 
 with the mildest roarings imaginable, made rushes from 
 under the dinner-table at the devoted Worthington, who 
 withstood his fiery onslaught with lungings and brandish- 
 ings of that truly classic weapon, the humble necessary 
 umbrella. At each rush the ladies backed and tittered, 
 clinging together with the most engagingly natural sem- 
 blance of terror. 
 
 " Ha ! caitiff wretch, beware ! " declaimed Worthington 
 nobly. " Only across my prostrate corse shall you reach 
 your innocent victims. Say, Charlie boy," he added in a 
 hurried aside, " I didn't poke you in the eye by mistake 
 just now, did I? " 
 
 " Wurra wurra wurra," roared Farge. " Never 
 touched me, Bert, by a couple of inches wurra." 
 
 But there the would-be ferocious animal paused, squatted 
 upon its haunches, pointing its finger dramatically towards 
 the front door, thus causing the whole company to wheel 
 round and gaze nervously in the direction indicated. 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Iglesias, how you did startle me!" Mrs. 
 Porcher cried plaintively, laying her hand upon her heart. 
 
 " Pardon me," he answered. " I had no idea the hall 
 was occupied or I would have rung instead of letting 
 myself in. I must apologise further for being so late, 
 and for not having telephoned that I should be unable to 
 be back in time for dinner." 
 
 " We all know that there are counter-attractions, which 
 may easily account for unpunctuality," Miss Hart put in, 
 with a toss of her head. 
 
 " Hush, hush, dear Liz," murmured Mrs. Porcher, while
 
 290 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 the two young men made round eyes at each other, and 
 de Courcy Smyth, leaning against the balusters on the 
 landing of the half-flight, announced his presence by a 
 sarcastic laugh. 
 
 Mr. Iglesias looked from one to another in surprise. 
 He had been thinking so very little perhaps, as he told 
 himself, insolently little about all these good people for 
 some time past. Now he became aware of a hostile atmos- 
 phere. For cause unknown he was in disgrace with them 
 all. Possibly they resented his indifference, possibly they 
 were justified in so doing. Hence he did not feel angry, 
 but merely sorry and perplexed. He addressed his hostess 
 with increased courtliness of bearing. 
 
 " I hope I have not caused you inconvenience, Mrs. 
 Porcher," he said. " I was summoned suddenly upon bus- 
 iness to the City this morning. The business in question 
 proved more complicated than I had anticipated, and I 
 was detained by it till late. This leads me to tell you, if 
 you will forgive my troubling you with personal matters, 
 that I shall be compelled to go to the City daily for some 
 weeks to come. I shall not, therefore, be able to give my- 
 self the pleasure of joining you at luncheon, or probably 
 at dinner, either." 
 
 " Indeed," Mrs." Porcher remarked. " This is rather 
 unexpected, Mr. Iglesias." 
 
 " To me wholly unexpected," he answered, " and in some 
 respects unwelcome; but it is unavoidable, unfortunately." 
 
 He bowed gravely to the two ladies and, ignoring the 
 rest of the little company, went on his way upstairs. At 
 the half -flight Smyth stood aside to let him pass; then, 
 after a moment's hesitation, followed him. 
 
 " Mr. Iglesias," he said, " may I be permitted so far to 
 presume upon our acquaintance as to remind you that you 
 received a letter from me this morning requiring an 
 answer? "
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 291 
 
 ' 
 
 Dominic paused at the stair-head. 
 
 " Yes, I received it," he replied coldly. 
 
 " And you condescended to read it, so I venture to 
 imagine, notwithstanding that you were summoned on 
 important business to the City. We are all impressed by 
 that interesting fact vastly impressed by it, needless to 
 state. I specially so, of course, since commerce in all its 
 branches, as you know, commands my profoundest admira- 
 tion and respect. Literature and art are but as garbage 
 compared with it no one ever recognised that gratifying 
 truth more thoroughly than I do myself. Still, the shop- 
 keeper I beg your pardon, financier I should have said 
 is not wholly exempted, by the ideal character of his call- 
 ing, from keeping his promises even to poor devils of 
 scholars and literary men such as myself." 
 
 Smyth swaggered, his hands in his trouser pockets, his 
 glance at once impertinent and malevolent, his manner 
 easy to the point of insolence. 
 
 " I venture to remind you of my letter, therefore, and 
 I may add I shall feel obliged if you'll just hand me over 
 those notes without delay." 
 
 " I read your letter," Iglesias answered. " It required 
 consideration." 
 
 " Oh ! did it, really ? I supposed that I had expressed 
 myself with perfect lucidity. But if any point appeared 
 to you to need explanation, I am disengaged at the present 
 time I am quite willing to explain." 
 
 " Thank you," Iglesias answered, " no explanation is 
 necessary on your part, I believe, though perhaps a little 
 is on mine. I must ask you to remember that I promised 
 to help you within reasonable relation to my means. What 
 constitutes a reasonable relation it is for me to judge, since 
 I alone know what my means are. I regret to tell you that 
 your last demand greatly exceeded that reasonable rela- 
 tion. I am therefore reluctantly obliged to refuse it."
 
 292 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 " To refuse it ? " Smyth exclaimed incredulously. 
 
 " Yes, to refuse it," Iglesias said calmly. " When your 
 play is ready for production I am prepared to bear the 
 cost of two representations, as I have already told you. 
 But I am not prepared to make you unlimited advances 
 meanwhile. To do so would be no kindness to you " 
 
 "Wouldn't it?" Smyth broke out excitedly. "No 
 kindness to me? Do you imagine I want kindness, that 
 I would accept or even tolerate kindness from any man, 
 and particularly from you? I offer you a magnificent 
 investment, and you speak to me as though I was a beggar 
 asking alms in the street. No kindness to me? This high 
 moral tone does not become you in the very least, let me tell 
 you, Mr. Iglesias. Do you suppose I am such a stone- 
 blind ass as not to see what has been happening? Doesn't 
 it occur to you that I hold your reputation in my two 
 hands?" 
 
 " My reputation ? " Iglesias repeated, a very blaze of 
 pride and indignation in his eyes. 
 
 Smyth backed hastily away from him, with a livid face 
 and shaking knees. 
 
 " No, no, Mr. Iglesias," he protested. " I was a fool 
 to say that. But I am utterly beaten by work and by 
 worry. I do not deny that you have behaved handsomely 
 to me. But persistent injustice and cruelty have soured 
 me. Is it wonderful? And then to-night those blatant 
 young idiots, Farge and Worthington, have set my nerves 
 on edge by their imbecility and conceit, till I really am not 
 accountable for what I say. I had better go. We can 
 talk of this at another time. I dare say I can manage for 
 a day or two, though it will not be easy to do so. However, 
 I am accustomed to rubbing shoulders with every created 
 description of undeserved indignity and wretchedness. I 
 will go. Good-night." 
 
 Iglesias entered his sitting-room, turned up the gas,
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 and looked round at the orderly aspect of the place with 
 a movement of relief. He ranged the bundles of papers 
 upon the table. If he was to master their contents he 
 would have to work far into the night, and the day had 
 been a long one, full of application and of very varied 
 emotions. He stood for a little space thinking of it all. 
 Thje return to his familiar quarters at the bank had af- 
 fected him less than he had expected. He had not felt it 
 as a return to slavery. 
 
 "Thanks to the Church," he said gratefully, "which 
 confers on her members the only perfect freedom, namely, 
 freedom of soul, freedom of heavenly citizenship." 
 
 Then he thought of Poppy thought very tenderly of 
 that strangely captivating woman of many moods ! How 
 clever she was, how accurately she knew the ways of men ! 
 Her warnings regarding his dabbling in matters theatrical, 
 for instance, and charities to unsuccessful playwrights. 
 And at that point Dominic Iglesias drew himself up short. 
 For, in a flash, the truth came to him that Poppy St. John's 
 hated " j ackal of a husband " was none other than his 
 fellow-lodger, de Courcy Smyth, whose shuffling footsteps 
 he heard even now, nervelessly crossing and recrossing the 
 floor of the room immediately above.
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 " I COULD not write, Rhoda, because of course I could not 
 be sure beforehand whether, when I came to London, I 
 should really wish to see you and George again or not." 
 This from Serena, loftily and with rustlings. " But as 
 Lady Samuelson was driving in this direction to-day, and 
 offered to drop me here if I could find my own way back, 
 I thought I had better come, as I knew it was your after- 
 noon at home." 
 
 " And I am sure for my part I am very pleased to have 
 you come," Mrs. Lovegrove replied, leading the way to- 
 wards the seat of honour upon the Chesterfield sofa. " I 
 always do hold with letting bygones be bygones, partic- 
 ularly as between relatives, when there has been any little 
 unpleasantness. And perhaps your calling will cheer poor 
 Georgie up. He is very tenacious of your and Susan's 
 affection, is Georgie." 
 
 Here the speaker proceeded to swallow rather convul- 
 sively, pressing her handkerchief against her lips. 
 
 " Perhaps I should be wiser to keep it all to myself," she 
 added, not without agitation. " But the sight of you does 
 bring up so much. And I am sorry to tell you, Serena, 
 things are not as happy as they used to be in this 
 house." 
 
 The office of ministering angel was not, it must be con- 
 ceded, exactly native to Serena, her sympathies being 
 restricted, the reverse of acute. But, at a push, curiosity 
 has been known to supply the place of sympathy very 
 passably; and of curiosity Serena had always a large 
 stock at the service of her friends and acquaintance. 
 
 " I wonder why," she therefore observed in reply to her 
 
 294,
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 295 
 
 ' 
 
 hostess's concluding remark " I mean I wonder why 
 things should not be as happy as they used to be? " 
 
 " I trace the commencement of it all to the time when 
 you were visiting here last November not that I mean 
 you were in any way to blame " 
 
 Serena interrupted with spirit : 
 
 " No, pray do not connect anything which occurred then 
 with me, Rhoda. I think it would be most misplaced. 
 After all that I have had to go through I really should 
 have thought it only delicate on your part never to refer to 
 what took place during my visit. I certainly should have 
 hesitated about coming here to-day if I had supposed either 
 you or George would have referred to it. What dreadfully 
 bad taste of Rhoda ! " she added mentally. " I believe I 
 had better go. That would mark my displeasure, and 
 teach her to be more guarded with me in future. But then 
 perhaps she has something to say which I really ought to 
 know. Perhaps it would be a mistake to go. Perhaps I 
 had better stay. I do not want to be too harsh with 
 Rhoda." 
 
 The truth being that she actually itched to hear more. 
 For, to Serena, her wholly imaginary love episode with 
 Mr. Iglesias represented the most vivid of all the very 
 limited experiences of her life. Her affections had not 
 been engaged, since she possessed no affections in any vital 
 sense of that word. But she had been flattered and ex- 
 cited. She had seemed to herself to occupy a most interest- 
 ing position, demanding infinite tact. During the months 
 which had elapsed she had rehearsed the history of every 
 incident, of every hour of intercourse, with Dominic 
 Iglesias, a thousand times ; weighing each word, discount- 
 ing every look of his, indulging in unlimited speculation 
 and analysis, until the proportions of that which had oc- 
 curred were magnified beyond all possibility of recognition, 
 let alone of sane relation to fact. To herself 2 therefore,
 
 296 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 Serena had become the heroine of an elaborate intrigue. 
 This greatly increased her importance in her own eyes ; 
 and, though she was studiously silent regarding the sub- 
 ject save in indirect allusion, the said self-importance, re- 
 acting upon those about her, gained both for herself and 
 her opinions a degree of consideration to which she was 
 unaccustomed and which she highly relished. Never had 
 Serena presented so bold a front to her philanthropic and 
 very possessive elder sister. Never had she enjoyed so 
 much attention in the small and rigidly select circle of 
 Slowby society, in which she and Miss Susan moved. 
 Serena spoke with authority upon all subjects, on the 
 strength of a purely fictitious affair of the heart. She 
 is not the first woman who has made capital out of the non- 
 existent in this kind, nor will she probably be the last! 
 Nevertheless, she was very far from admitting the great 
 benefit which Mr. Iglesias had so unconsciously conferred 
 upon her. She regarded herself as a deeply injured person 
 irreparably injured, but for her own diplomacy, admir- 
 able caution, knowledge of the world and self-respect. 
 
 " I am well aware it is a trying subject to approach," 
 Mrs. Lovegrove replied, with praiseworthy mildness. 
 " And I am far from blaming you for turning from it, 
 Serena. I am sure it has weighed sadly on my mind and 
 on George's, too. Not that he has said much, but I could 
 see how he felt; and then a great deal has come out since. 
 That is why I am so gratified to have you call here to-day, 
 and so will Georgie be. He has taken it dreadfully to 
 heart finding how we have all been taken in, and seeing 
 how wrong it must put him with you and with Susan." 
 
 " It is very proper that you should say that, Rhoda," 
 the other observed with condescension. " I think you owe 
 it to me to express regret. I should have been sorry if 
 George had proved indifferent, for I have been very care- 
 ful in what I have told Susan. Of course, I might have
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 297 
 
 y 
 
 spoken strongly. I think anyone would admit I should 
 have been quite justified in doing so. But I wished to 
 spare George. Mamma was very much attached to him, 
 and of course he was constantly with us in old days, before 
 his marriage." 
 
 It was significant of the wife's humble state that she 
 received this thrust without a murmur. 
 
 " Poor Georgie was too upset to tell even me for a long 
 time," she continued somewhat irrelevantly, " and you may 
 judge by that how badly he felt. He knew how shocked 
 I should be, and that I should take it as such an insult to 
 the dear vicar, after all his kindness, that any friend of 
 ours whom he had talked to in this house should turn 
 Romanist." 
 
 "Who? What?" cried Serena. 
 
 She had determined to maintain a superior and impassive 
 attitude, but at this point curiosity became rampant, re- 
 fusing further circumlocution or delay. 
 
 " Why, Mr. Iglesias, to be sure," Mrs. Lovegrove 
 answered, hardly restraining evidences of satisfaction. 
 The news was lamentable, no doubt; but to have it miss 
 fire in the recital of it would have made it ten times more 
 lamentable still. " And the worst of it was," she continued, 
 refreshed by the effect upon her hearer, " he kept it dark 
 for we don't in the least know how long. He mentioned no 
 dates, and poor Georgie was too upset to ask him. Of 
 course it is well known how double Romanists are always 
 taught to be not that I was ever acquainted with any. 
 You never meet them out, I am glad to think, where we 
 visit. Still, that Mr. Iglesias, who was quite one of our- 
 selves, as you may say, so intimate and always appearing 
 the perfect gentleman, so open and honest 
 
 " Ah ! there you are wrong, Rhoda," the other lady put 
 in with decision, while making a violent effort to recover 
 her impassivity and superiority. "You and George may;
 
 298 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 be surprised, but I am not. I always had my suspicions of 
 Mr. Iglesias. I told you so more than once. At the 
 time you and George were annoyed. Now you see I was 
 right. I am seldom mistaken. Even Susan admits I am 
 very observant. After his extraordinary behaviour to me 
 I should not be surprised at anything which Mr. Iglesias 
 might do." She paused, breathless but triumphant. 
 " Have you seen him since all this came out, Rhoda? " 
 
 " Oh, no. He has called twice, but fortunately Georgie 
 was out walking. He goes out walking a great deal now, 
 does Georgie." The speaker heaved a voluminous sigh. 
 Her satisfaction had been short-lived. " And I told the 
 girl, if Mr. Iglesias asked for me, to say I was particularly 
 engaged. He has written to Georgie. I know that a 
 long letter but I have not been asked to read it." 
 
 Mrs. Lovegrove pressed her handkerchief against her 
 lips again, agitation gaining her. 
 
 " After all these years of marriage, you know, Serena, 
 it is a very cutting thing to have any concealment be- 
 tween me and Georgie. I should not mention it to you but 
 that you were here when it commenced. I never supposed 
 no, never, never there could be any coldness between 
 him and me. When I have heard others speak of trouble 
 with their husbands, I have always pitied the poor things 
 from my heart, but held them mainly responsible. Now I 
 think differently " 
 
 " Miss Eliza Hart, mum." This shrilly from the little 
 house-parlourmaid. 
 
 Serena rose as well as her hostess. Superiority coun- 
 selled departure ; curiosity urged remaining. 
 
 " Of course, I should feel justified in staying if Rhoda 
 pressed me to .do so," she said to herself. And Rhoda, 
 in the very act of greeting her new guest, did press her 
 to do so. 
 
 " Surely you are not leaving yet? " she said plaintively.
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 
 if 
 
 " It would hurt me not to have you stay to tea, and 
 Georgie would be sadly disappointed to think he had missed 
 you." 
 
 Thus admonished, Serena graciously consented to re- 
 main. Miss Hart, as last arrival, being necessarily invited 
 to assume the place of honour upon the sofa, Serena 
 selected a chair at as great a distance from that historic 
 article of furniture as the exigencies of conversation per- 
 mitted. " I must show her that I stay not to see her, but 
 solely on Georgie's account," she commented inwardly. 
 " I have been very cold in manner. I think she must have 
 observed that." 
 
 But the great Eliza was in a militant humour, not easily 
 abashed. She had called with intentions, in the interests 
 of which she plunged volubly into talk. 
 
 " You will excuse my coming without Peachie Porcher, 
 Mrs. Lovegrove," she began. " She was all anxiety to 
 come, too, fearing you might think her neglectful. But 
 I prevented it. She overrates her strength, does Peachie, 
 and to-day her neuralgia is cruel. * I'll run across and 
 account for you,' I said to her. * You just lie down and 
 take a nap, and let the housemaid bring you up a little 
 something with your tea, and take it early.' ' It's not 
 more nourishment I require, but less worry, Liz dear,' she 
 said. And so it is, Mrs. Lovegrove." 
 
 " We all have our troubles, Miss Hart, and often unsus- 
 pected ones which call for silence." 
 
 The wife's large cheeks quivered ominously, while Serena 
 rustled but whether in sympathetic agreement with the 
 sentiments expressed by the last speaker, or in protest 
 against the presence of the former one, it would be difficult 
 to determine. 
 
 " I wonder whether that is not best, Rhoda I mean I 
 wonder whether it is not best to be silent," she remarked 
 reflectively. " I think people are not usually half cautious
 
 800 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 enough what they tell. So many disagreeables can be 
 avoided if you are really on your guard. Mamma im- 
 pressed that upon us when we were children. I am very 
 careful, but I often think Susan is hardly careful enough. 
 Most troubles arise through trusting other people too 
 much." 
 
 " And that's poor darling Peachie all over," Miss Hart 
 declared, with a fine appreciation of opportunity. " Too 
 great trustfulness has been her worst fault, as I always 
 tell her, the generous pet. Not that all our gentlemen are 
 ungrateful, Mrs. Lovegrove. I would not have you sup- 
 pose that. Poor Mr. Smyth, for instance, whom I'm 
 afraid I have accused of being very surly and bearish at 
 times, has come out wonderfully lately. But it must be 
 a hard nature, indeed, which Peachie's influence would not 
 soften. One such nature I am acquainted with." Eliza 
 paused, looking from one to other of her hearers with 
 much meaning. " But it is not the case with poor Mr. 
 Smyth. He has yielded. Then there is the tie of an un- 
 fortunate domestic past between him and Peachie, which 
 helps to bring them together. Of course that means 
 nothing to you, Mrs. Lovegrove." 
 
 The lady addressed swallowed convulsively. 
 
 " But all are not blessed with such good fortune as 
 yours," the great Eliza continued. " Mr. Smyth has been 
 very open with Peachie recently. He has some surprising 
 tales to tell, knowing very well all that is going on in 
 society. And that reminds me of a certain gentleman who 
 does not live a thousand miles from here. Mr. Smyth has 
 hinted at much that is very startling in that direction." 
 
 The speaker paused again. 
 
 " Would it be intrusive to ask whether you have been 
 favoured with much of Mr. Iglesias' company during the 
 last few weeks, Mrs. Lovegrove? " she added. 
 
 Ruddy mottlings bespread the wife's kindly countenance.
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 301 
 
 y 
 
 Serena moved slightly upon her chair. She was conscious 
 of growing excitement. 
 
 " Perhaps not quite so much as formerly ; but then Mr. 
 Lovegrove has been out walking most evenings. The 
 warmer weather always causes him to feel the need of 
 exercise," the excellent woman returned, putting heroic 
 restraint upon herself. " And I have been very occupied 
 with the spring cleaning. I make it a duty to look into 
 everything myself, you know, Miss Hart. Not but what 
 my girls are very good. I think all the talk about trouble 
 with the servants is very much exaggerated. Our cook, 
 Fanny, has been with us quite a number of years. Still, 
 I hold it is well for them to have a mistress's supervision if 
 the cleaning is to be thorough. If you see to it your- 
 self, then you can have nobody to blame. And so I have 
 had frequently to deny myself to visitors." 
 
 She gave a sigh of relief, trusting she had loyally steered 
 the conversation into safer channels. But the great Eliza 
 was not thus to be thwarted. 
 
 " I asked on Peachie Porcher's account," she declared, 
 " not on my own, Mrs. Lovegrove. It is all of less than 
 no consequence to me, except for the sake of Cedar Lodge, 
 how a certain gentleman spends his time. But Peachie's 
 interests must be protected. With an establishment such 
 as ours a good name is everything. ' You cannot be too 
 particular ; for any talk of fastness, and the place must go 
 down,' as she says to me " 
 
 But here, the wife's natural rectitude and sense of justice 
 triumphed over prejudice and wounded sensibilities. 
 
 " I am sure I could never believe anyone would have 
 occasion to accuse Mr. Iglesias of fastness," she said. 
 " Of course, the change of religion is dreadful, particu- 
 larly in one who should have known better, though a 
 foreigner, having had the advantage of being brought up 
 in England. Nobody can be more aware of that than my-
 
 302 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 self and Mr. Lovegrove. It has been a sad grief to us " 
 her voice quavered " and no doubt early rising and fish 
 meals do make a lot of work and unpleasantness in a house- 
 hold. But as to fastness, well, Miss Hart, I cannot find 
 it in my conscience to agree to anything as bad as that." 
 
 With preternatural solemnity the great Eliza shook her 
 head. 
 
 " Seeing is believing, Mrs. Lovegrove," she replied. 
 " And when ladies call, dressed in the tiptop of the 
 fashion ! Very stylish, no doubt, but not quite the style 
 Peachie Porcher can countenance, circumstanced as we 
 are with our gentleman guests. Then there is what Mr. 
 Smyth hinted at subsequently, just in a friendly way. He 
 did not say he was actually acquainted with the lady, but 
 intimated that he could say very much more if he chose. 
 No, Mrs. Lovegrove, I regret to speak, knowing how long 
 you and a certain gentleman have been acquainted, but 
 there can be no question Peachie Porcher's interests have 
 been trifled with, and her affections also." 
 
 Here aggressive rustlings on the part of Serena arrested 
 the flow of Miss Hart's eloquence. 
 
 "You spoke, I believe, Miss Lovegrove?" she inquired. 
 
 " No, I did not speak," Serena cried. " Vulgar, design- 
 ing person, what presumption ! " she cried to herself. 
 " Anyone would feel insulted by her manner. She thinks 
 she has put me at a disadvantage. But she is mistaken. 
 I know more than she supposes." She was greatly en- 
 raged; for, unreasonable though it may appear, if trifling 
 were about on the part of Dominic Iglesias, Serena reserved 
 to herself a monopoly in respect of it. Few things, per- 
 haps, are more galling to a woman than the assertion that 
 a Lovelace has been guilty of misleading attentions to 
 others besides herself. If she is not the solitary object 
 of his affections, let her at least be the solitary victim of 
 his perfidy. And that Mrs. Porcher should aspire to share
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 303 
 
 jf 
 
 her role of betrayed one was, to Serena, a piece of unheard- 
 of impertinence. She refused to bestow further attention 
 upon Miss Hart, and turned haughtily to her hostess. 
 
 " Have you any idea when George will be in, Rhoda ? I 
 am quite willing to wait a reasonable time for him, but I 
 cannot be expected to wait indefinitely. I must consider 
 Lady Samuelson. It is a long distance to Ladbroke Square 
 of course Trimmer's Green is very far out and I have 
 to dress for dinner. Everything is very well done at Lady 
 Samuelson's, and she makes a great point of punctuality. 
 Of course it is no difficulty to me to be punctual. I was 
 brought up to be so. Mamma was always extremely par- 
 ticular about our being in time. She said it was very rude 
 to be late. I think it is rude, and so, of course, punctu- 
 ality is quite natural to me. But I do object to being 
 hurried; and so, unless George is likely to be in almost 
 directly, I really must go, Rhoda." 
 
 " I should be very mortified to have you leave before he 
 comes back. It would be a sore disappointment to Georgie 
 to find you had been here and he had missed you," the good 
 creature pleaded. 
 
 " And it's something quite new for Mr. Lovegrove to be 
 out on your at-home day, isn't it ? " Eliza put in, not with- 
 out covert sarcasm. " I never remember to have known it 
 happen before." 
 
 " Mrs. and Miss Ballard, please, mum " this from the 
 house-parlourmaid. 
 
 Mrs. Lovegrove arose with alacrity, retail trade and non- 
 conformity alike forgiven. 
 
 " I am afraid Miss Hart grows very spiteful," she said to 
 herself. " I wish she would go. I should be vexed to have 
 her outsit Serena. Well, Mrs. Ballard, very pleased, I 
 am sure, to see you " this aloud " and your daughter, 
 too. The spring is coming on nicely, is it not? Quite 
 warm this afternoon, walking? I dare say it is. You and
 
 304. THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 rny husband's cousin, Miss Lovegrove, have met, I believe? 
 Miss Ballard, Miss Lovegrove. Are you going, Miss 
 Hart? Kind regards to Mrs. Porcher, and sincere hopes 
 she may soon lose her neuralgia. Very trying complaint, 
 Mrs. Ballard, is it not? and very prevalent, so they tell 
 me, this year. Why, you're never going to leave, too, 
 Serena? You'll come again, or Georgie will be so 
 troubled." 
 
 But Serena held out small hope of her reappearance. 
 
 " Of course I should be glad to see George, but I could 
 not bind myself to anything, Rhoda. You see, Lady 
 Samuelson " the Ballard ladies, mother and daughter, 
 looked at one another, fluttered and impressed " Lady 
 Samuelson," Serena repeated, her voice rising a little, " has 
 such a number of engagements, and of course if she wishes 
 to take me with her I cannot refuse. At home she always 
 likes me to help entertain. I really have very little time 
 to call my own, and so I should not feel justified in making 
 any promise. Of course it was just a chance my being 
 able to come to-day. You can tell George I am sorry not 
 to have seen him. I should like him to know that I am 
 sorry." 
 
 " You are very kind, Serena," the other said humbly. 
 
 " I think Rhoda has improved," Serena said to herself, 
 as she walked across Trimmer's Green between the black 
 iron railings. " I think she has more sense of my position 
 than she did. I wonder whether she thinks that if Mr. 
 Iglesias had proposed I should have accepted him. Of 
 course she thinks I was very badly treated. I think her 
 manner shows that. Certainly she took his part rather 
 against that odious Miss Hart. But I don't believe she 
 really sided with him. I think she only appeared to do so 
 to snub Miss Hart. Of course if she had stayed, I should 
 have had to stay, too. I should have owed it to myself to 
 do so. But, as she went, there was no object in staying;
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 305 
 
 jf 
 
 and it was wiser to seem quite indifferent about seeing 
 George. I hope he won't attempt to call upon me at Lady 
 Samuelson's ! I should hardly think he would presume to 
 do that. I must tell the butler, if a gentleman calls, to 
 say I am not at home. If it was only George it would not 
 so much matter, but I could not run the chance of having 
 Lady Samuelson and Rhoda meet. It would not do at all 
 to have Rhoda climbing into society through me. I think 
 it is too bad to have people make use of you like that. 
 And Rhoda has no tact. I see I must be on my guard 
 with George and Rhoda. I wonder whether I had better 
 tell Susan Mr. Iglesias has become a Roman Catholic? 
 Of course she would think I had had a great escape; but 
 in any case that does not excuse him. He behaved very 
 badly. I don't believe for an instant he ever took any 
 notice of Mrs. Porcher. I believe that is an entire inven- 
 tion. I wonder if the lady who called is the same lady we 
 
 saw at the theatre " 
 
 And so on, and so on, all the way home by the Uxbridge 
 Road, and Netting Hill, and then northward to the august 
 retirement of Lady Samuelson's large corner house in Lad- 
 broke Square. For a deeply injured person Serena had 
 really enjoyed herself very much.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 THE burden of August, dense and heavy, lay upon Lon- 
 don. Radiating outward in lifeless and dull-glaring sun- 
 shine, it involved the nearer suburbs; so that Dominic 
 Iglesias, sitting on a bench beside the roadway crossing 
 Barnes Common, notwithstanding the hour past six 
 o'clock and the open space surrounding him, found the 
 atmosphere hardly less oppressive than that of the streets. 
 The great world, which plays, had departed The little 
 world, outnumbering the great by some five or six millions, 
 which works, remained. And Dominic Iglesias, since he too 
 worked, remained likewise, sharing with it the burden of the 
 August heat and languor; and sharing also, to-day being 
 Sunday, its weekly going forth over the face of the 
 scorched and sun-seared land seeking rest, and, too often, 
 finding none. 
 
 For the past two months he had seen Poppy St. John but 
 seldom, nor had he heard from her. Whether by accident 
 or by design he knew not, she had rarely been at home on 
 those occasions when he had been free to call. For the last 
 three weeks she had been away up the river, so he under- 
 stood, with her friend Dot Parris alias Miss Charlotte 
 Colthurst. A blight seemed to Iglesias to have fallen upon 
 his and her friendship, ever since the day of his return to 
 Messrs. Barking Brothers & Barking; and his discovery, 
 or rather divination, of the relation in which de Courcy 
 Smyth stood to her. While her husband remained name- 
 less, an unknown quantity, Dominic deplored the fact of 
 her marriage, but as an abstraction. So soon as that fact 
 had acquired in his mind whether rightly or wrongly a 
 name and local habitation, now that he was liable to meet 
 
 306
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 307 
 
 y 
 
 it daily incarnate and that in most unsavoury shape 
 liable to be constantly reminded of its near neighbourhood, 
 to witness a thousand and one unpleasing peculiarities of 
 speech, habit, and manner, unlooked-for emotions arose in 
 Iglesias, and those of a character of which he was by no 
 means proud. Resentment took him, indignation, strange 
 movements of jealousy and hatred; all very natural, no 
 doubt, but decidedly bad for the soul. It was idle for him 
 to remind himself that his belief regarding de Courcy 
 Smyth was based upon supposition, upon circumstantial 
 evidence which might prove merely coincident. He could 
 not rid himself of that belief, nor of the emotional con- 
 sequences of it ; and these so vexed him that he questioned 
 whether it would not be better to remove from Cedar Lodge 
 and seek a domicile uninfected by the perpetual provoca- 
 tion of the man's presence. But it was not easy to give a 
 plausible reason to his hostess for any immediate change of 
 residence ; nor was it easy, in the present stress of business 
 at the bank, to find time or energy for house-hunting. 
 The atmosphere of Cedar Lodge had become inimical. His 
 rooms had ceased to be a place of security and repose. 
 Yet whither should he go? The great wilderness of Lon- 
 don seemed vastly inhospitable when it came to the question 
 of selecting a new dwelling-place. 
 
 Meanwhile, he was grievously conscious of the growing 
 estrangement between himself and Poppy St. John, which 
 he connected, in some way, with this haunting yet unspoken 
 suspicion of her relation to de Courcy Smyth a suspicion 
 which tended to rob intercourse of all spontaneity by in- 
 troducing into it a spirit of embarrassment and constraint. 
 He would have given so very much to know the truth and 
 be able to reckon finally with it; but he judged it unper- 
 missible that he should approach the ugly subject first. It 
 was Poppy's affair, her private and unlovely property. 
 While she elected to keep silence, therefore, it would be dis-
 
 308 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 loyal for him to speak. Still it distressed him, adding to 
 his mental and emotional unrest. The happiness might 
 have gone out of their intercourse, yet there were times 
 when he wearied for sight and for speech of her more than 
 he quite cared to admit. George Lovegrove still held aloof. 
 Dominic rallied his faith in the divine purpose, rallied his 
 obedience to the divine ruling, fixed his eyes more patiently 
 upon the promise of the far horizon ; yet it must be owned 
 he felt very friendless and sad at heart. 
 
 To-day, driven in part by that f riendlessness, he had come 
 out on the chance of gaining some news of Poppy. Dis- 
 appointment, however, awaited him. For the discreet 
 Phillimore, though receiving him graciously, reported her 
 mistress resident at home again, it is true, but gone into 
 town on business, probably theatrical, and unlikely to re- 
 turn until late. Therefore Dominic had walked on to 
 Barnes Common, and finding the uncomfortable bench by 
 the roadside whereon Cappadocia, the toy spaniel, had 
 sought his protection more than a year ago untenanted, 
 had sat down there to meditate. Cedar Lodge was no longer 
 a refuge. He preferred to keep away from it as long as 
 might be. Perhaps, too, as the sun dropped the air would 
 grow cooler, and the southeasterly draught, parched and 
 scorching as from the mouth of a furnace, which huffled 
 at times only to fall dead, might shift to some more merci- 
 ful quarter. A coppery haze hung over London, above 
 which the rusty white summits of a range of cumulus cloud 
 towered into the thick grey-blue of the upper sky. Possi- 
 bly the cloud harboured thunder and the refreshment of 
 rain amid its giant crags and precipices. On the chance 
 of such refreshment he would stay. 
 
 For in good truth he needed refreshment, and that speed- 
 ily, being very tired, fagged by long hours in the City, 
 by heavy responsibilities, by the burden of the airless 
 August heat, let alone those more intimate causes of dis-
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 309 
 
 turbance already indicated. Iglesias could not disguise 
 from himself that the close application to business was 
 beginning to tell injuriously upon his health. This same 
 morning, coming back from early Mass, passing through 
 the flagged passage which leads from Kensington Palace 
 Green into Church Street, he had become so faint from 
 exhaustion, that reaching and not without difficulty his 
 former home in Holland Street, he had summoned the neat 
 bald-headed little caretaker and asked permission to enter 
 the house and rest. The ground-floor rooms were cool and 
 dusky, sheltered by closed shutters from the summer sun. 
 Only the French-window of the back dining-room stood 
 open, on to the flight of wrought-iron steps leading down 
 into the garden. Beside it the caretaker, not without 
 husky coughings, placed a kitchen chair for Iglesias and 
 fetched him a glass of water. 
 
 " I could wish I had something better to offer you, sir," 
 he said, " but I am an abstainer by habit myself ; and I 
 have no liquor of any kind, unfortunately, in the house." 
 
 The water, however, was pleasantly cold, and Dominic 
 drank it thankfully. He could have fancied there was 
 virtue in it the virtue of things blessed by long-ago 
 mother-love. And, thinking of that, his eyes filled with 
 tears as he looked out over the small neglected garden. 
 Of the once glorious laburnum there remained only an un- 
 sightly stump, but jasmine still clothed the enclosing 
 walls, the dark green of its straggling shoots starred here 
 and there with belated white blossoms. About the lip of 
 the empty stone basin, vigorously chirruping, sparrows 
 came and went, while in the far corner a grove of starve- 
 ling sunflowers lifted their brown and yellow-rayed faces 
 towards the light. Dominic, resting gratefully in the cool 
 semi-darkness of the empty room, until the faintness which 
 had attacked him was passed, found the place very gentle, 
 jsoothing, and sweet. The sadder memories had died out
 
 310 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 here, so he noted. Only gracious and tender ones re- 
 mained. He wished he could stay on indefinitely. As the 
 years multiply, and the chequered story of them lengthens, 
 it is comforting to dwell in a place where, once on a time, 
 one had been greatly loved. 
 
 Dominic turned to the waiting caretaker, who regarded 
 him with mingled solicitude, admiration, and deference. 
 
 " So the house is still unlet? " he said. 
 
 " Yes, sir, and is likely to remain so, I apprehend. The 
 lease, as I understand, falls in a very few years hence, and 
 the landlord is unwilling to make any outlay on the house, 
 which will probably then be pulled down ; while no tenant, 
 I opine, would be willing to rent a residence so wanting in 
 modern decoration and modern conveniences. Weeks 
 pass, sir, without any persons calling to view." 
 
 " Yet the rent is low ? " Iglesias said. 
 
 " Very low for so genteel a district I am a native of 
 Kensington, ' the royal village,' myself, sir and no 
 premium is asked." 
 
 Now, sitting on the uneasy bench upon the confines of 
 Barnes Common while the little many-millioned world, 
 which works, in gangs, and groups, and amatory couples, 
 and somewhat foot-weary family parties, sauntered by 
 that same oppression of faintness came over Dominic 
 Iglesias, along with a great nostalgia for the cool, dusky, 
 low-ceilinged rooms, and the neglected yet still bravely 
 blossoming garden of the little house in Holland Street. 
 
 " It would be pleasant to spend one's last days and draw 
 one's last breath there," Iglesias said to himself ; " when 
 the sum of endeavour is complete, when the last cable has 
 been sent, the last column of figures balanced and audited, 
 when the ledgers are closed and one's work being fairly 
 finished one is free to sit still and listen not fearfully, but 
 with reverent curiosity for the footsteps of Death and the 
 secrets he has in his keeping."
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 311 
 
 y 
 
 And there he paused, for the scorched dusty land and 
 pale dense sky, even the rusty white summits of the great 
 range of cloud, slowly, slowly climbing high heaven even 
 the light dresses of passing women and children went sud- 
 denly black, indistinct, and confused to his sight, so that he 
 seemed to be falling through some depth of dark and un- 
 tenanted space, while the dust, thick, stifling, cling- 
 ing, fell with him, encircling, enveloping him with a horror 
 of suffocation, of crushing, impalpable, yet unescapable, 
 dead weight. 
 
 Then out of the darkness, out of the dust, in voluminous 
 dusty drab motor veil and dusty drab motor coat, the Lady 
 of the Windswept Dust herself came towards him, bringing 
 consolation and help.
 
 CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 " You are coming round, dear man. You really look 
 better. What you wanted was a sensible Christian meal. 
 For, I tell you, you were most uncommonly done, and it 
 was a near shave whether I should get you home here with- 
 out having to call on the populace for assistance. Don't 
 go and worry now. You were superb as usual, with 
 enough personal dignity to supply a whole dynasty, and 
 have some left over for washing-day into the bargain. You 
 should give lessons in the art of majestic collapse not 
 that you did collapse, thank goodness! But you came 
 precious near it. Yes, I mean it, I mean it, dear man " 
 Poppy nodded her head at him, leaned across the corner of 
 the table and patted his arm with the utmost friendliness. 
 " I want to terrify you into being more careful. There 
 are plenty of people one could jolly well spare ; but you're 
 not among them. So lay that to heart, or I shan't have an 
 easy moment. And then as to personal dignity, if you will 
 excuse my entering into details of costume, in that grey 
 top-hat, grey frock-coat, et cetera, et cetera, you looked 
 more fit for the Ascot Royal Enclosure than for Barnes 
 Common on a broiling August Sunday. The populace 
 eyed you with awe. Don't be offended, there's a dear. 
 You can't help being very smart and very beautiful; and 
 you oughtn't to want to help it even if you could, since it 
 gives me so much pleasure. Your tailor's a gem. But 
 how he must love you, must be ready to dress you free of 
 cost for the simple joy of fitting on." 
 
 The little dinner had been excellent. The clear soup 
 hot, and the ninety-two Ayala, extra dry, chilled to a 
 nicety and so with the rest of the menu. Glass, silver, 
 
 312
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 313 
 
 y 
 
 china, were set forth daintily upon the fine white damask, 
 under the glow of scarlet-shaded candles. The double 
 doors connecting the small drawing-room and dining- 
 room stood open ; this, combined with the fact that lights 
 were limited to the dinner-table, giving an agreeable effect 
 of coolness and of space. While, as arrayed in a crisp 
 black muslin gown the frills and panels of it painted with 
 shaded crimson roses and bronze-green leaves Poppy St. 
 John ministered to her guest, chattered to, and rallied him, 
 her eyes were extraordinarily dark and luminous, and her 
 voice rich in soft caressing tones. Never had she appeared 
 more engaging, more natural and human, never stronger 
 yet more tenderly gay. Dominic Iglesias yielded himself 
 up gladly, gratefully, to the charm of the woman and to 
 the comfort of his surroundings. Temperate in all things, 
 he was temperate in enjoyment. Yet he was touched, he 
 was happy. Life was very sweet to him in this hour of 
 relief from physical distress, of renewed friendship, and 
 of pretty material circumstance. 
 
 " It was such a mercy I had a decent meal to offer you," 
 Poppy went on. " Often the commissariat department is 
 a bit sketchy on Sunday, in well, in these days of the 
 cleaned slate. But you see, Lionel Gordon, of the 
 Twentieth Century Theatre, was to tell me, this afternoon, 
 what decision he had come to about the engagement I have 
 been spelling to get. He is an appalling mongrel, three- 
 parts German Jew and one part Scotchman sweet mix- 
 ture of the Chosen and Self-Chosen people ! He never was 
 pretty, and increasing years have not rendered his appear- 
 ance more enticing ; but he's the cleverest manager going, 
 on, either side of the Atlantic, and he doesn't go back on his 
 word once given, as too many of them do. Well, he was 
 to let me know ; and to tell the truth, beloved lunatic, I was 
 rather keen about this engagement. I knew if he did not 
 give it me I should be a little hipped, and should stand in
 
 314 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 need of support and consolation ; while, if he did, I should 
 be rather expansive, and should want suitably to celebrate 
 the event. So I ordered a good dinner to be ready in either 
 case " Poppy laughed gently. " Queer thing the artist," 
 she said, " with its instinct of falling back on creature 
 comforts. Whatever happens, good luck or bad luck, it 
 always eats." 
 
 " And they gave you the engagement? " Iglesias in- 
 quired. 
 
 Poppy nodded her head in assent. 
 
 " Yes, dear man, Lionel gave it me. He'd have been a 
 fool if he hadn't, for he knows who I am and what training 
 Pve had. And then Fallowfeild has made things easy. 
 He's a thundering good friend, Fallowfeild is ; and in view 
 of late events once I had told him to go, I wouldn't, of 
 course, take a penny of Alaric's I had no conscience about 
 letting Fallowfeild be useful. He was lovely about it. I 
 shall only draw a nominal salary for the first six months un- 
 til I have proved myself. What I want is my opportunity ; 
 and money matters being made easy helped materially. 
 Both the Chosen and Self-Chosen People have a wonder- 
 fully keen eye to the boodle, bless their little hearts and 
 consciences ! " 
 
 She paused, leaning her elbows on the table and looking 
 sideways at Iglesias, her head thrown back. 
 
 " I am dreadfully glad to have you here to-night," she 
 went on, " because you see it's a turning-point. I have 
 pretty well climbed the ridge and reached the watershed. 
 The streams have all started running in the other direction 
 towards the dear old work and worry, the envy, hatred, 
 malice, and all uncharitableness, and all the fun, too, and 
 good comradeship, and ambition, and joy, of the theatre. 
 Can you understand, I at once adore and detest it, for it's 
 a terribly mixed business. Already I keep on seeing the 
 rows of pinky-white faces rising, tier above tier, up to the
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 315 
 
 y 
 
 roof, which turn you sick and give you cold shivers all down 
 your spine when you first come on. And then I go hot 
 with the fight against their apathy or opposition, the 
 glorious fight to conquer and hold an audience, and bend its 
 emotions and its sympathies, as the wind bends the meadow 
 grass, to one's will." 
 
 Poppy stretched out her hand across the corner of the 
 table again, laying it upon Iglesias' hand. Her eyes 
 danced with excitement, yet her voice shook and the words 
 came brokenly. 
 
 " But, dearly beloved, I have your blessing on this new 
 departure, haven't I?" she asked. "After all, it's you, 
 just simply you, that sends me back to an honest life and 
 to my profession. So I should like to have your blessing 
 that, and your prayers." 
 
 " Can you doubt that you have them," Iglesias answered, 
 and his voice, too, shook, somewhat, " now and always, 
 dearest of friends ? " 
 
 For a little minute Poppy sat looking full at him, he 
 looking full at her. Then, with a sort of rush, she rose to 
 her feet. 
 
 " Come along, this won't do," she said. " Sentiment 
 strictly prohibited. It's not wholesome for you after the 
 nasty turn you had on Barnes Common and it's not par- 
 ticularly wholesome for me either, though for quite other 
 reasons. Moreover, it's fiendishly hot in here. So see, dear 
 man, you're not going just yet. I telephoned to the Bell 
 Inn stables for a private hansom to be on hand about ten- 
 thirty for you. Meanwhile, you're to take it easy and 
 rest. It is but five steps upstairs, and that won't tire you. 
 Come up into the cool and have your coffee on the balcony." 
 
 And so it came about that Dominic Iglesias followed 
 Poppy St. John upstairs she moving rapidly, in a way 
 defiantly followed her into a bedchamber, where a subtle 
 sweetness of orris-root met him ; and a fantastic brightness
 
 316 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 of gaslight and moonlight, coming in through open win- 
 dows, chequered the handsome dark-polished brass-inlaid 
 furniture, the green silk coverlet and hangings, the dimly 
 patterned ceiling and walls. Without hesitation or 
 apology, Poppy walked straight through this apartment, 
 and passed out on to the white-planked and white-railed 
 balcony. 
 
 The dome of the sky was immense and had become per- 
 fectly clear, the great clouds having boiled up during the 
 afternoon only to sink away and vanish at sunset, as is 
 their wont in seasons of drought. North and east the 
 glare of London pulsed along the horizon ; and above it the 
 stars were faint, since the radiant first-quarter moon rode 
 high, drenching roadway and palings, the stretch of the 
 polo-ground, the shrubberies and grove of giant elms, with 
 white light blotted and barred, here and there, by black 
 shadow. The air was still, but less oppressive, the cruelty 
 of sun-heat having gone out of it and only a suavity re- 
 maining. The facade of the terrace of smirking, self- 
 conscious, much-be-flowered and be-balconied little houses 
 had taken on a certain worth of picturesqueness, suggestive 
 of the bazaar of some far-away Oriental city rather than 
 of a vulgar London suburb, the summer night even here 
 producing an exquisiteness of effect and making itself very 
 sensibly felt. Poppy silently motioned her guest to the 
 further of the two cane deck-chairs set in the recess, ar- 
 ranged a cushion at his back, drew up a little mother-of- 
 pearl inlaid table beside him, poured coffee into two cups. 
 Then she moved across to the rail of the balcony, and stood 
 there, her head thrown back, her hands clasped behind her, 
 facing the moonlight, which covered her slender rounded 
 figure from head to foot as with a pale transparent veil of 
 infinite tenuity. Iglesias could see the rise and fall of her 
 bosom, the flutter of her eyelids, the involuntary movement 
 of her lips as she pressed them together, restraining, as
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 317 
 
 '0 
 
 might be divined, words to which she judged it wiser to 
 deny utterance. 
 
 And this hardly repressed excitement in Poppy's bear- 
 ing and aspect, along with the peculiar scene and circum- 
 stances in which he found himself, worked profoundly upon 
 Dominic Iglesias. In passing through that scented, half- 
 discovered, fantastically lighted bedchamber and stepping 
 out into the magic of the night, he had stepped out, in 
 imagination, into regions dreamed of in earlier years 
 when reading poetry or hearing music, but never fairly 
 entered, still less enjoyed, since all the duties and obliga- 
 tions of his daily life militated against and even forbade 
 such enjoyment. The weariness of his work in the City, 
 the petty annoyances he suffered at Cedar Lodge, the 
 haunting disgust of de Courcy Smyth's presence, fell away 
 from him, becoming for the time as though they were not. 
 He never had been, nor was he now, in any degree self-in- 
 dulgent or a sentimentalist. The appeal of the present 
 somewhat enchanted hour was to the intellect and the spirit, 
 rather than sensuous, still less sensual. Nevertheless, an 
 almost passionate desire of earthly beauty took him of 
 the beauty of things seen, of things plastic, beauty of the 
 human form; beauty of far-distant lands and the varied 
 pageant of their aspect and history; of great rivers flow- 
 ing seaward; of tombs by the wayside; of the glorious 
 terror of the desert's naked face ; of languorous fountain- 
 cooled gardens, close hid in the burning heart of ancient 
 cities ; beauty of sound, beauty of words and phrases, above 
 all, of the eternal beauty of youth and the illimitable ex- 
 pectation and hope of it. 
 
 And it was out of all this, out of the mirage of these 
 vast elusive prospects and apprehensions, that he answered 
 Poppy St. John, as with serious eyes yet smiling lips she 
 turned, and coming across the white floor sat down beside 
 him, saying:
 
 318 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 "How goes It, Dominic? Are you rested?" 
 
 " Yes," he answered, " I am rested. And more than 
 that, I am alive and awake, strangely awake and full of 
 vision thanks to you." 
 
 Poppy's expression sweetened, becoming protective, 
 maternal. She leaned back in her chair and folded her 
 hands in her lap ; yet there was still a certain tension in her 
 expression, an intensity as of inward excitement in her gaze. 
 
 " Tell me things, then," she said, " tell me things about 
 yourself, if the gift of seeing is upon you. There's no 
 one to overhear. The neighbours on both sides are away 
 for the holidays, thank the powers ! and their houses stand 
 empty. While the voices and footsteps down in the road 
 only make us more happily alone. So tell me things, Do- 
 minic. I am a trifle stirred up with all this affair of the 
 theatre, and you always quiet me. I'm really a very good 
 child. I deserve a treat. And there are things I dread- 
 fully want to know." 
 
 " Alas ! there is so absurdly little to tell," Iglesias 
 answered, " that, here and now, in face of my existing sense 
 of life and of vision, I am humbled by my own ignorance 
 and poverty of achievement. That poverty, I suppose, is 
 all the more apparent to me, because twice to-day I have 
 been so I judge, at least within measurable distance of 
 bidding farewell to this astonishingly wonderful world and 
 the fashion of it. It comes home to me how little I have 
 seen, how little I have profited, how little I know. I would 
 have liked to leave it ; it would be more seemly to do so, hav- 
 ing profited more largely by my sojourn here." 
 
 Iglesias paused, excitement which his natural sobriety 
 disapproved gaining him, too, through that ache of unreal- 
 ised beauty. For a moment he struggled with it as with a 
 rising tide, then resigned himself. 
 
 " And yet," he added, " in other respects I should not be 
 sorry to hear the hour strike, for curiosity of the unknown
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 319 
 
 JP 
 is very strong in me. Opportunity may have been narrow, 
 
 and one may have been balked of high endeavour and rich 
 experience, by lack of talent and by adverse circumstances ; 
 but in the supreme, the crowning experience, that of death 
 and all which, for joy or sorrow, lies beyond it, even the 
 most obscure, the most uncultured and untravelled must 
 participate." 
 
 " Don't be in too great a deuce of a hurry to satisfy that 
 curiosity, dear man," Poppy put in. " You must contrive 
 to exercise patience for a little while yet, please ; always re- 
 membering that it is entirely superfluous to run to catch a 
 train which is bound not to start until you are on board of 
 it. And then, too, you see well, there's me, after all, and 
 I want you." 
 
 Iglesias' face grew keen, as he looked at her through 
 that encompassing whiteness of moonlight. 
 
 " I am glad of that," he said very quietly, " because you 
 are to me, dear friend, what no other human being has ever 
 yet been. The saddest thing that could happen to me, 
 save loss of faith, would be that you should cease to want 
 me. I only pray God, if it is not self-seeking, that you 
 may continue to want me as long as I live." 
 
 "But your religion?" she asked, a point of jealousy 
 pricking her. 
 
 " My religion forbids sin, whether of body or mind ; for- 
 bids violation of the eternal spiritual proportion, by any 
 placing of the creature before the Creator in a man's ac- 
 tion or in his heart. But my religion enjoins love and 
 stimulates it; since only through loving can we fulfil the 
 highest possibility of our nature, which is to grow into the 
 likeness of Almighty God." 
 
 "You believe that?" Poppy asked again. 
 
 " I do more," Iglesias said. " I know it." 
 
 Then both fell silent, having reached the place where 
 words hinder rather than help thought. And, as it hap-
 
 320 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 pened, just then the stillness was sensibly broken up, and 
 the magic of the night encroached upon by the passing of a 
 couple of char-a-bancs in the road below, loaded up with 
 trippers faring homewards from a day's outing at Hampton 
 Court. The tired teams jog-trotted haltingly. The 
 wheels whispered hoarsely in the muffling dust; and voices 
 mingled somewhat plaintively in the singing of a then popu- 
 lar khaki sing " The Soldiers of the Queen." Hearing 
 all of which, as the refrain died away Londonwards up the 
 great suburban road, the compelling drama and pathos of 
 life as the multitude lives it stupidly, without ideas, with- 
 out any conscious nobility of purpose, yet with a certain 
 blundering and clumsy heroism took Poppy St. John by 
 the throat. Those who stand aside from that democratic 
 everyday drama, rejecting alike the common joys and com- 
 mon sorrows of it, have need so it seemed to her to ac- 
 count for and justify themselves lest they become suspect. 
 Therefore she looked at Dominic Iglesias intently, question- 
 ingly, hesitated a moment, and then spoke. 
 
 " Still I don't understand you, in your determined de- 
 tachment of attitude. Tell me, if you are not afraid of 
 love, why have you never married ? " she said. 
 
 And he, divining to an extent that which inspired her 
 question, smiled at her somewhat proudly as he answered. 
 
 " Be under no misapprehension, dear friend. I am a 
 perfectly normal piece of flesh and blood, with a man's 
 normal passions, and his natural craving for wife, and 
 child, home, family, and the like. But during my mother's 
 lifetime I was bound to other service than that of mar- 
 riage." 
 
 " But in these years since her death? " Poppy asked. 
 
 " There is a time for everything, as the Preacher testi- 
 fies, a due and proper time which must be observed if life is 
 to be a reasoned progress, not a mere haphazard stumbling 
 from the weakness of childhood to the incapacity of old
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 321 
 
 jf 
 
 age. And, can anything be more objectionably at vari- 
 ance with that wise teaching than the spectacle of amorous 
 uxorious efflorescence in a man of well over fifty ? " 
 
 Poppy permitted herself a lively grimace. 
 
 " All the same you have sacrificed yourself, as usual," 
 she said. 
 
 " Not so very greatly, perhaps," Iglesias replied, with a 
 soberly humorous expression. " For I have always been 
 very exacting and have asked very much. I am culpably 
 fastidious. My tastes are far beyond my means, my 
 desires out of all reasonable relation to my station and my 
 merits. And it should be remembered that my circle of 
 acquaintances has been a very limited one, until quite re- 
 cently I do not wish to appear more glaringly arrogant 
 or discourteous than I actually am. I had my ideal. It 
 happened that I failed to realise it ; and I am very impa- 
 tient of compromise in matters of intimate and purely 
 personal import. In respect of them I hold I have an un- 
 qualified right to consult my own tastes. It has always 
 been easier to me to go without than to accept a second- 
 best." 
 
 " In point of fact no woman was good enough ! Poor 
 brutes ! " 
 
 Poppy mused a little, with averted face. 
 
 " How beastly cheap they'd all feel I've not forgotten 
 the undulating and aspiring withered leaf if they knew 
 how mightily they all fell short!" she added naughtily. 
 Suddenly she looked round at Dominic Iglesias. Her 
 eyes were as stars, but her lips trembled. " Bless me, but 
 you've extensively original methods of conveying informa- 
 tion! It's lucky for me I've a steady head. So so it 
 comes to this I reign all alone? " she said. 
 
 " Yes, dear friend, save for my love for my mother- 
 such as the throne is or ever has been you reign alone," 
 Iglesias answered quietly.
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 Poppy rested her elbows upon her knees, dropped her 
 face into her hands, and sat thus bowed together in the 
 whiteness of the moonlight. 
 
 " Ah, dear ! " she murmured presently, brokenly, " I've 
 got my answer. It's better and worse, than I expected. 
 All the same I'm content that's to say, the best of me is 
 royally, consummately content. Thank you a thousand 
 times, thrice-beloved and very most exceedingly unworldly- 
 wise one," she said. 
 
 Then for a while both were silent, wrapped about by, 
 and resting in, the magic of the summer night. When 
 Poppy roused herself at last to speak, it was in a different 
 key, studiously matter-of-fact. 
 
 " Look here, dear man, do you in the least realise how 
 extremely far gone you were when I arrived to you on 
 Barnes Common this evening? Because I tell you plainly 
 I didn't in the very least like it. In my opinion it is high 
 time you gave up dragging that Barking Brothers & Bark- 
 ing cart." 
 
 " I shall give up doing so very soon," Iglesias replied. 
 " Just now I am acting as manager. Sir Abel is at 
 Marienbad, and the other partners are out of town." 
 
 " I like that lazy animals ! " Poppy said. 
 
 " But the situation is in process of righting itself has 
 practically righted itself already." 
 
 " Thanks to you." 
 
 " In part, no doubt. There was a disposition to panic, 
 which rendered it exceedingly difficult to get accurate and 
 definite information at first. However, I arrived at the 
 necessary data with patience and diplomacy, and was able 
 to draw out a clear detailed statement. This proved so 
 far satisfactory that Messrs. Goomme, Hills, Murray & 
 Co. and Pavitt's Bank have considered themselves justified 
 in undertaking to finance Barking Brothers until business 
 in South Africa has resumed its ordinary course."
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 323 
 
 y 
 
 "Then the elderly plungers are saved?" 
 
 " Yes, I believe, practically they are saved," Iglesias 
 said. " And, therefore, as soon as Sir Abel has finished 
 his cure and returns I shall retire." 
 
 Poppy rose, clapping her hands together with irritation. 
 
 " Sir Abel's cure be hanged ! " she cried. " What do I 
 care about his idiotic old liver or his gout, or anything else ? 
 Let him pay the price of steadily over-eating himself for 
 more than half a century. I've no use for him. What I 
 have a use for is you, dear man ; more than ever now, don't 
 you see," her voice softened, became caressing, " after our 
 recent little explanation. And you shan't kill yourself. 
 I won't have it. I won't allow it. Therefore be reason- 
 able, my good dear. Put away your mania of self-immola- 
 tion or keep it exclusively for my benefit. Write and 
 tell the Barking man to hurry up with his liver and his gout. 
 Tell him you're being sweated to death dragging his rotten 
 old banking cart, and that he's just got to come home and 
 set you free, and get between the shafts and do the drag- 
 ging and sweating himself. Ah, there's the hansom. You 
 must go. I'd no notion it was so late." 
 
 And so it came about that, once more, Dominic Iglesias 
 followed the Lady of the Windswept Dust into the faintly 
 scented bedchamber, where fantastic brightness of gaslight 
 and moonlight chequered the polished surfaces of the 
 dark furniture, the green silk coverlet and hangings, the 
 dimly-patterned ceiling and walls. His instinct was to 
 pass on, as quickly as might be, to the secure commonplace 
 of the landing without. But half-way across the room, at 
 the foot of the low-pillared and brass-inlaid bedstead, 
 Poppy St. John stopped, and turned swiftly, barring his 
 passage with extended arms. 
 
 " Stay a minute, for probably we shall never meet in this 
 poor little house again, best beloved one," she said. " It 
 is too far out. I must move into town. Lionel puts the
 
 324. THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 play into rehearsal next week, and I must live near the 
 theatre. And then, too well, you know, since I've made 
 up my mind, it's best to clean the slate even in respect of 
 one's dwelling-place. Memories stick, stick like a leech; 
 and they raise emotions of a slightly disturbing character 
 sometimes. I am sure of myself ; and yet I know it's safest 
 to make a clean sweep of whatever reminds me of all the 
 forbidden dear damned lot. I regret nothing don't 
 imagine that. I'm keen on my work. The artist, after 
 all, is the strongest thing in me. I'm quite happy, now I 
 have made up my mind. My nose is in the air. I can look 
 creation in the face without winking an eyelid. I can 
 respect myself. And I'm tremendously grateful to Lionel 
 Gordon for taking me on spec, and to Fallowf eild for greas- 
 ing the creature's Caledonian-Teutonic-Hebraic palm for 
 me. Still still you can imagine, can't you, that, take it 
 all round, it's not precisely a Young Women's Christian 
 Association blooming picnic party for me just at present? " 
 
 Poppy dashed her hand across her eyes, half laughing, 
 half sobbing. 
 
 " Ah, love me, Dominic, love me, in your own way, the 
 clean way that's all I ask, all that I want only love me 
 always," she said. 
 
 She laid her hands on Iglesias' shoulders and threw back 
 her head. And he, holding her, bending down kissed her 
 white face, soft heavy hair, over-red lips, her tragic and 
 unfathomable eyes which looking on the evil and measur- 
 ing the very actual immediate delights of it, still had 
 courage, in the end, to reject it and choose the good 
 kissed them reverently, gravely, proudly, with the chastity 
 and chivalry of perfect friendship. 
 
 " Ah ! that's better. I'm better. Bless you ; don't be 
 afraid. I'll play fair to the finish only keep well. Quit 
 that rotten old bank. Now go, dear man, go," Poppy 
 said.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 DURING the past six weeks events had galloped. To 
 Iglesias it appeared that changes were in course of arriv- 
 ing in battalions. He neither hailed nor deplored them, 
 but met them with a stoical patience. To realise them 
 clearly, in all their bearings, would have been to add to 
 the sense of fatigue from which he too constantly suf- 
 fered. More than sufficient to each day was the labour 
 thereof. So he looked beyond, to the greater repose and 
 freedom which, as he trusted, lay ahead. 
 
 Upon the morning immediately in question he had closed 
 his work at the bank. Sir Abel's demeanour had been 
 characteristic. His clothes, it is true, still hung loosely 
 upon him. His library chair and extensive writing-table 
 appeared a world too big. For he was shrunken and had 
 become an old man. Yet, though signs of chastening thus 
 outwardly declared themselves, in spirit he had regained 
 tone and returned to his former high estate. Along with 
 the revival of financial security had come a revival of 
 pomposity, an addiction to patronage in manner and plati- 
 tudes in speech. He had ceased to be humble and human, 
 self-righteous self-complacency again loudly announcing 
 itself. 
 
 " So you propose to retire, you ask to be relieved of 
 your duties, my good friend? " he asked of Iglesias, who 
 had requested the favour of an interview in his private 
 room. "Let us, then, congratulate ourselves upon the 
 fact that I have returned from my sojourn upon the con- 
 tinent with so far renovated health that I feel equal to 
 meeting the arduous responsibilities of my position un- 
 aided ; and am not, consequently, compelled, out of a sense 
 
 325
 
 326 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 of duty either to myself or to my colleagues, to offer any 
 objection to your retirement. Before we part I should, 
 however, wish to place it clearly on record that my con- 
 fidence, both in the soundness of my own judgment and in 
 our capacity, as capitalists, to meet any strain put upon 
 our resources, was not misplaced. This no one can, I 
 think, fail to admit. Our house emerges from this period 
 of trial with the hall-mark of public sympathy and esteem 
 upon it. And, in this connection, it is instructive to note 
 the working of the law of compensation. This war, for 
 example, which to the ordinary mind might have appeared 
 an unmixed evil, since it threatened to jeopardise our 
 position among the leading financiers of the capital of the 
 civilised world, has, in the event, served, not only to con- 
 solidate our position, but to unmask the practices of that 
 unscrupulous and self-seeking member of our firm, my un- 
 happy nephew Reginald, and afford us legitimate excuse 
 for his removal. We appeared to touch on disaster; but, 
 by that very means, we have been enabled to rid ourselves 
 of a canker. Still this must remain a painful subject." 
 
 Sir Abel became pensive, fixing his gaze, the while, upon 
 the portrait adorning the wall over against him. To an 
 acute observer the said portrait had always been subtly 
 ironical. Now it had become coarsely so a merciless 
 caricature of the shrivelled old gentleman whom it repre- 
 sented, and to whom it bore much the same resemblance as 
 a balloon soaring skywards, fully inflated, bears to that 
 same object with half the gas let out of it in a condition of 
 flabby and wobbling semi-collapse. 
 
 "A painful subject," he repeated nobly "I refrain 
 from enlarging upon it, and pass to other matters. As to 
 the part you yourself have borne in the history of our 
 recent anxieties, Iglesias, I feel I cannot do less than tender 
 you the thanks of myself and my co-partners. I do not 
 disguise from you that a tendency existed to criticise my
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 327 
 
 * 
 
 action in summoning you, to dub your business methods 
 antiquated, and question your ability to march with the 
 time's. But these objections proved, I am happy to think, 
 unfounded. The faith I reposed in you has been justified. 
 And I may tell you, in confidence, that, should the occasion 
 for doing so arise, my colleagues will in future have as 
 little hesitation in calling upon your services as I should 
 have myself." 
 
 The speaker paused, as for applause. And Dominic, 
 who had remained standing during this prolonged oration 
 no suggestion having been made on the present occasion 
 that he should be seated proceeded to acknowledge the 
 peculiar compliment just paid him, with somewhat sardonic 
 courtesy. 
 
 " Your words are extremely reassuring, Sir Abel," he 
 remarked calmly. 
 
 The gentleman addressed regarded him sharply for a 
 moment, as though doubtful of the exact purport of his 
 words. Then, suspicion of covert sarcasm being clearly 
 inadmissible, Sir Abel spoke again in his largest platform 
 manner, although the tones of his voice, like his person, 
 were shrunken, docked of the fulness of their former 
 rotundity and unction. 
 
 " It has ever been my effort to reward merit by en- 
 couragement," he replied. " And, were testimony to the 
 wisdom of my practice, in this particular, needed, I should 
 point, I candidly tell you, my good friend, to the excellent 
 results of my recent demand upon your cooperation and 
 support." He leaned sideways in his chair, assuming the 
 posture of the portrait, conscious of having really said a 
 very handsome thing indeed to his ex-head-clerk. " For," 
 he added, " I sincerely believe in the worth of example. It 
 is hardly too much to assert that a generous and high- 
 minded employer eventually stamps the employed with a 
 reflection, at least, of his own superior qualities."
 
 328 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 Again he paused. But truth to tell, Dominic Iglesias 
 had not only grown very weary of discourse and dis- 
 courser, but somewhat impatient also. He had hoped 
 better things of the man after the nasty shaking fortune 
 had recently given him. Consequently he was disap- 
 pointed; for it was very effectually borne in upon him 
 that only absence of feathers makes for grace in a goose. 
 Once the nudity of the foolish bird covered, it hisses, and 
 that loudly, to the old tune. Hence, in the interests of 
 Christian charity, he agreed with himself to cut short the 
 interview, lest anger should get the better of toleration. 
 
 " I think we have now discussed all questions calling for 
 your personal attention, Sir Abel," he said, " and all docu- 
 ments and correspondence relating to affairs during your 
 absence have been placed in your hands. If therefore you 
 have nothing further to ask me, I need not encroach any 
 longer upon your valuable time." 
 
 With that, after a brief pause, he moved towards the 
 door ; but the other man, half rising from his chair, called 
 after him. 
 
 " Iglesias, your attention for one moment that matter 
 of a salary? " 
 
 " I supposed I had made my terms perfectly clear, Sir 
 Abel," Dominic remarked coldly. 
 
 " No doubt, in the first instance. But should you have 
 reconsidered your decision, and should you think the pen- 
 sion you enjoy an insufficient remuneration, I am em- 
 powered to make you the offer, in addition, of a fixed 
 salary for the past six months." 
 
 Listening to which tardy and awkward recognition of 
 his own rather princely dealings, Mr. Iglesias' temper 
 began to rise, his jaw to grow rigid, and his eyes danger- 
 ously alight. 
 
 " I am not in the habit of changing my mind, Sir Abel," 
 he said. " I proposed to make you a free gift of my time
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 10 
 
 and such experience as I may possess. Nothing has oc- 
 curred to alter or modify that intention. There are cir- 
 cumstances, into which I do not choose to enter, which 
 would render it extremely distasteful to me to accept any- 
 thing over and above my pension from yourself or from 
 any member of your family or firm." 
 
 Here Sir Abel, who had been standing, sagged down, 
 half-empty-balloon-like, into his chair. Again he eyed 
 Iglesias sharply, doubtful of the exact purport of his 
 speech. But again suspicion of covert sarcasm, still more 
 of covert rebuke, being to him quite inconceivable, he 
 rejoined with a condescension which he could not but feel 
 was altogether praiseworthy : 
 
 " Enough, enough, my good friend. That is sufficient. 
 I will detain you no longer; but will merely add that I 
 commend your reticence while appreciating the sentiments 
 which dictate your refusal. These it is easy to interpret. 
 They shall not be forgotten, since they constitute a very 
 suitable acknowledgment of the advantages and benefits 
 which have accrued to you during your long association 
 with my partners and myself." 
 
 Later, journeying westward upon the 'bustop, Dominic 
 Iglesias meditated in a spirit of humorous pity upon the 
 above conversation. He was very glad he had not lost 
 his temper. Eyes blinded by self-worship, an impenetra- 
 ble hide, these things, too, have their uses in time very 
 practical uses, which it would be silly to ignore. Why, 
 then, be angry? The truly wise man, as Dominic told 
 himself with a somewhat mournful smile, learns to leave 
 such time-wise fools as Sir Abel Barking to Almighty God 
 for chastisement, because if it can be said without irrev- 
 erencethe Almighty alone has wit enough to deal with 
 them. And, for his comfort on lower levels, he reminded 
 himself that though the house of Barking might show 
 him scant gratitude, and attribute its financial resurrec-
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 tion to its own inherent virtue, this was not the opinion 
 held by outsiders. The manager of Pavitt's Bank, and 
 certain members of Goomme, Hills, Murray & Co., had con- 
 gratulated Iglesias, personally, upon his admirable conduct 
 of affairs during the crisis, and assured him of the high 
 respect they had conceived for his judgment, his probity, 
 and business acumen. In this there was satisfaction of 
 a silent but deep-seated sort satisfaction of pride, since 
 he had accomplished that which he had set forth to accom- 
 plish: satisfaction of honour through unbiassed and un- 
 solicited commendation. With that satisfaction he bade 
 himself rest thankfully content, while turning his thoughts 
 to other and more edifying subjects. 
 
 And, in this connection, it was inevitable that a former 
 journeying westward upon a 'bustop should occur to him, 
 with its strange record of likeness and unlikeness in cir- 
 cumstance and outlook. Then, as now, somewhat outworn 
 in mind and in health, he had closed a period of labour and 
 faced new conditions, new habits, unaccustomed freedom 
 and leisure. But now on matters of vital, because of 
 eternal, importance, his mind was at rest. Loneliness and 
 on-coming old age had ceased to disquiet him. The ship 
 of his individual fate no longer drifted rudderless or 
 risked danger of stranding, but steered steadily, fear- 
 lessly, towards the promise of a secure and lovely har- 
 bourage. The voyage might be long or short. At this 
 moment Dominic supposed himself indifferent in the matter, 
 since he believed not presumptuously, but through the 
 outreaching of a great faith that the end was certain. 
 And meditating, just now, upon that gracious conviction, 
 while the red-painted half-empty omnibus fared onward 
 down Piccadilly, a sense of the unusual graciousness of 
 things immediate and visible took hold on him. 
 
 For to-day the monstrous mother, London-town, wore 
 a pensive and delicate aspect. The tender melancholy of
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 331 
 
 early autumn was upon her, she looking etherealised and 
 even youthful, as does a penitent cleansed from the soil 
 of past transgressions by fasting and tears. No doubt 
 she would sin again and befoul herself, for the melting 
 moods of a great city are transient; yet for the moment 
 she showed very meek and mild. The atmosphere was 
 clear/ with the exquisite clarity which follows abundant 
 and welcome rain after a spell of heat and drought. The 
 trees, somewhat sparse in foliage, were distinct with in- 
 finite gradations of blonde, golden, and umber tints, as 
 of burnished metal, against their black branches and stems. 
 The endless vista of grey and red buildings, outlined finely 
 yet without harshness, towered up into a thin, sad, blue sky 
 overspread with long-drawn shoals and islands, low-shored 
 and sinuous, of pale luminous cloud. Upon the grey 
 pavements the bright-coloured dress of a woman mauve, 
 green, or pink took on a peculiar value here and there, 
 amid the generality of darkly clad pedestrians. And in 
 the traffic, too, the white tilt of a van or rather barbaric 
 reds and yellows of the omnibuses, stood away from the 
 sombre hues of the mass of vehicles. The air, as Iglesias 
 met it he occupying the seat on the right immediately 
 behind that of the driver was soft, yet with a perceptible 
 freshness of moisture in it ; a cool, wistful wind seeming to 
 hail from very far, the wings of it laden less with hopeful 
 promise than with rare unspoken farewells, gentle yet 
 penetrating regrets; so that Dominic, even while welcom- 
 ing the refreshment of it, was moved in spirit with im- 
 pressions of impending finality as though it spoke to him 
 of things finished, laid aside, not wholly without sorrow 
 relinquished and so far as outward seeming went forgot. 
 Involuntarily his eyes filled with tears. Then he re- 
 proached himself. Of what had he to complain? The 
 will must indeed be weak, the spiritual vision reprehensively 
 clouded, if these vague voices of nature could so disturb
 
 83<3 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 the serenity of the soul. Thus he reasoned with himself, 
 almost sternly. But, just then, the flaming rose-scarlet 
 bill on the knife-board of a passing omnibus attracted his 
 attention, along with the announcement, in big letters, 
 which it set forth. To-night the Twentieth Century 
 Theatre opened its winter season with a new piece by that 
 admirable but all too indolent and intermittent dramatist, 
 Antony Hammond; and in it Poppy St. John played the 
 leading lady's part.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV 
 
 OPPOSITE St. Mary Abbott's church Mr. Iglesias lighted 
 down from the 'bustop. His eyes were still dazzled by 
 those flaming bills. Lionel Gordon was advertising hand- 
 somely. The knife-board of every second omnibus dis- 
 played them, now he came to look. His thought turned 
 in quickened interest towards the Lady of the Windswept 
 Dust and all that the said advertisements stood for in her 
 case. He had seen her a few days ago, after rehearsal, 
 and she had warned him off being present to-night. 
 
 " It's all going like hot cakes, dear man," she had said 
 gaily, " still, as you love me, don't come. I should be 
 more nervous of you than ninety dozen critics. I shall 
 want you badly, all the same, don't doubt that ; and I shall 
 play to you, all the while, though you're not there. But 
 don't you understand? if I actually saw you it might 
 come between me and my part. I shouldn't be sure who I 
 really was, and that would make me as jumpy as a sick 
 cat. You shall know I'll wire to you directly the show's 
 over ; but I'd best have my first round quite alone with the 
 public. And then a first night is always a bit jungly 
 not quite fair on the play or the company, or the audience 
 either for that matter. A play's the same as a ship, if 
 there's any real art in it. It needs time to find itself. So 
 just wait, like a lamb, till we've all shaken into place, and 
 I'm quite at home in the saddle." 
 
 And in truth Dominic Iglesias had plenty to occupy his 
 time and attention at this particular juncture, irrespective 
 of Poppy's debut at the Twentieth Century Theatre. For 
 to-morrow would close his connection with Cedar Lodge, 
 as to-day had closed his connection with Messrs. Barking 
 
 333
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 Brothers & Barking. The mind in hours of fatigue, when 
 vitality is low and the power of concentration consequently 
 deficient, has a tendency to work in layers, so to speak, one 
 strain of thought overlying another. Hence it was that 
 Iglesias' contemplation of those gaudy advertisements, 
 and of their bearing upon Poppy's fortunes, failed to oust 
 the premonitions of finality which had come to and some- 
 what perturbed him as he looked upon the pensive tear- 
 washed face of London-penitent, cleansed by the breath of 
 the wistful far-hailing autumn wind. Involuntarily, and 
 notwithstanding his repudiation of them, he continued to 
 question those premonitions and the clinging melancholy 
 of them, asking whether they bore relation merely to the 
 two not wholly unwelcome partings above indicated ; or 
 whether the foreboding induced by them did not find its 
 source in some sentiment, some intuition of approaching 
 change, far more intimate and profound than cessation 
 of employment or alteration of dwelling-place. Then, as 
 he walked on up Church Street another layer of thought 
 presented itself. For he could not but call to mind how 
 many hundred times he had trodden that pavement before 
 close against the close-packed traffic, the high barrack- 
 wall on the right hand, the row of modest shop-fronts on 
 the left, on his way home to the little house in Holland 
 Street. Once more that house was home to him. He would 
 cross its familiar threshold to-day as master. Yet how 
 differently to of old ! How steep the hill was ! How 
 languid and spent he became in ascending it slowly, de- 
 liberately, instead of with light-footed energy and indif- 
 ference ! And this made him ask himself, what if these 
 premonitions of finality, of impending farewells, of com- 
 pulsory relinquishment, had indeed a very special and 
 definite significance, being sent to him as heralds of the 
 approach of a common yet to each individual being 
 unique and altogether tremendous change? What if that
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 335 
 
 if 
 haunting curiosity of the unknown concerning which he 
 
 had spoken with Poppy St. John amid the white magic of 
 the moonlight during the enchanted hour of his and her 
 friendship was to be satisfied very soon? 
 
 Iglesias drew himself up to his full height, fatigue and 
 bodily weakness alike forgotten, and stood for a little 
 space at the turn into Holland Street, hat in hand, facing 
 the delicately chill wind and looking away into the fine 
 perspective of sky overspread by shoals and islands of pale 
 luminous cloud. Calmly yet with the sharp amazement 
 inevitable when things taken for granted, tacitly and 
 nominally accepted throughout a lifetime, suddenly ad- 
 vance into the immediate foreground, becoming actual, 
 tangible, imperative he asked himself, was death so very 
 near, then? At the church of the Carmelite Priory just 
 above the high slated roofs and slender iron crockets of 
 which overtopped the parapets of the intervening houses 
 a bell tolled as the officiating priest, in giving the Benedic- 
 tion, elevated the sacred Host. And that note, at once 
 austere and plaintive, striking across the hoarse murmur 
 and trample of the streets, was very grateful to Dominic 
 Iglesias. For it assured him of this, at least, that when 
 for him the supreme hour did indeed strike and he was 
 called upon to go forth alone as every soul must go to 
 meet the impenetrable mystery which veils the close of the 
 earthly chapter, he would not go forth unbefriended, but 
 absolved, anointed, fortified, made ready in so far as 
 readiness for so stupendous an ordeal is possible by the 
 rites of Holy Church. 
 
 "Fiat misericordia tua Domme super nos: quemad- 
 modum speravimus te. In te Domme speravi: non con- 
 fundar in ceternum," he quoted half aloud. 
 
 And then could not forbear to smile, gravely and some- 
 what sadly, registering the deep pathos of the fact that 
 the majestic hymn of praise and thanksgiving, dedicated
 
 336 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 by the use of Christendom throughout centuries to the 
 celebration of highest triumph, still ends brokenly with a 
 childlike sob of shrinking, of entreaty, and very human 
 pain. 
 
 Meditating upon which, and upon much implied by 
 it, not only of sorrow but of consolation for whoso is not 
 afraid to understand, Iglesias moved onward. But so 
 closely do things absurd and trivial jostle things august 
 and of profound significance in daily happenings he was 
 speedily aroused from meditation and his attention claimed 
 by example of quite another order of pathos to that sug- 
 gested by the concluding verses of the Te Deum. Some 
 little way ahead a brown-painted furniture van was backed 
 against the curb. From the cave-like interior of it coat- 
 less white-aproned men bore a miscellaneous collection of 
 goods among others a battered dapple-grey rocking- 
 horse with flowing mane and tail across the yard-wide 
 strip of garden, and in at the front door of a small 
 old-fashioned house. Bass mats were strewn upon the 
 pavement. Sheets of packing paper pirouetted down the 
 roadway before the wind. While, standing in the midst 
 of the litter, watching the process of unloading with per- 
 plexed and even agitated interest, was a whimsical figure 
 large of girth, short of limb, convex where the accredited 
 lines of beauty demand, if not concavity, at least a refined 
 flatness of surface. 
 
 The Latin, unlike the Anglo-Saxon, does not consider 
 it necessary as soon as adolescence is past to extirpate 
 his heart; or, failing successful performance of that 
 heroic operation, strictly to limit the, activities of it to 
 his amours, legitimate or otherwise. Hence Dominic 
 Iglesias felt no shame that the sight of his old plaything, 
 or of his old school-fellow now unhwppily estranged from 
 and suspicious of hin 1 should provoke in him a great 
 tenderness. Upon the battered rocking-horse his heart
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 337 
 
 rode away to the dear sheltered happiness of childhood, 
 while towards his former school-fellow it went forth in 
 unmixed kindliness. For it appeared to him that for one 
 who had so lately held converse with approaching death, 
 it would be a very scandal of light-minded pettiness to 
 nourish resentment against any fellow creature. In near 
 prospect of the eternal judgment, private and temporal 
 judgment can surely afford to declare a universal amnesty 
 in respect of personal slights and injuries. Therefore, 
 after but a moment's hesitation, he went on, laid his 
 hand upon George Lovegrove's shoulder, and called him 
 affectionately by name. 
 
 " Dominic ! " the latter cried, and stood staring. " Well 
 to be sure you did surprise me! To think of meeting 
 you just by accident to-day, like this!" 
 
 He grew furiously red, gladness and embarrassment 
 struggling within him. Conscientiously he strove to be 
 faithful to the menagerie of ignorances and prejudices 
 which he misnamed his convictions. For here was the 
 representative of the Accursed Thing persecutor, enemy 
 of truth, of patriotism, of marriage, worshipper of sense- 
 less idols; but, alas! how he loved that representative! 
 How he honoured his intelligence, admired his person, 
 coveted his companionship ! Beholding Iglesias once again, 
 George Lovegrove rejoiced as at the finding of lost treas- 
 ure. Hence, perplexed, perspiring, lamentably squinting, 
 yet with the innocent half-shy ecstasy of a girl looking 
 upon her recovered lover, he gazed up into Mr. Iglesias' 
 face. 
 
 " I give you my word I was never more taken aback 
 in my life," he protested. " As it happened I was just 
 thinking about old times, observing that some family is 
 moving into your former house. But I had no notion of 
 meeting you. Positively I am unable to grasp the fact. 
 I have not a word to say to you, because I require to
 
 S38 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 say so much. I know there is a great deal which needs 
 explanation on my part. And then your calling me by 
 my name, too ! I declare it went right through me, as 
 a voice from the grave might." 
 
 " Put aside explanations," Iglesias replied indulgently. 
 " You are not going to quarrel with me any more let that 
 suffice." 
 
 " No, I cannot quarrel with you any more. I am sure 
 I don't know whether it is unprincipled or not, but I cannot 
 do it." 
 
 Regardless of observation, he pulled out a handkerchief 
 and mopped his face. 
 
 " If it is unprincipled I must just let it go," he said, 
 quite recklessly. " I cannot help myself. I give you my 
 word, Dominic, I have held out as long as I could." 
 
 This appeal to Iglesias, as against himself, appeared to 
 him abundantly unaffected and ingenuous. 
 
 " I cannot but believe you will find the consequences of 
 renewed intercourse with me less damaging than you sup- 
 pose," he answered, smiling. 
 
 " That is what the wife says," the other man stated. 
 " She has veered round completely in her opinion, has the 
 wife. I do not understand why, except that Mrs. Porcher 
 and Miss Hart and she seem to have fallen out. The 
 workings of females' minds are very difficult to follow, 
 even after years of marriage, you know, Dominic. Oppo- 
 sition to one of their own sex will make them warmly 
 embrace opinions you supposed were just those which they 
 most strongly condemned. She has taken a very high 
 tone, for some time past, about the Cedar Lodge ladies, 
 has the wife. And when I came in, the evening of her last 
 at-home day, I found her sadly upset at having heard 
 from one of them that you were about to leave. She im- 
 plied that I was to blame ; whereas I can truthfully say 
 my conduct throughout has been largely influenced by the
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 339 
 
 p 
 
 fear of hurting her feelings." The speaker looked help- 
 lessly at Mr. Iglesias. " Of course we do not expect the 
 same reticence in speech from females we require of 
 ourselves. Still, such unfounded accusations are rather 
 galling." 
 
 " I cannot be otherwise than very grateful to Mrs. 
 Lovegrove for espousing my cause, you see," Iglesias 
 replied. This confused and gentle being, struggling with 
 the complexities of friendship, religious prejudice, and 
 feminine methods and amenities, was wholly moving. " Cir- 
 cumstances have arisen which have made me decide to 
 give up my rooms at Cedar Lodge. To-night is the last 
 upon which I shall occupy them. But I do not wish Mrs. 
 Lovegrove to be under any misapprehension regarding 
 my hostess and her companion. I have nothing to com- 
 plain of. During my long residence they have treated 
 me with courtesy and consideration. I wish them nothing 
 but good. Still the time has come, I feel, for leaving 
 Cedar Lodge." 
 
 Here the worthy George's imagination indulged in wild 
 flights. Visions of a hideous and rugged cell of the sort 
 known exclusively to serial melodrama and of a beauti- 
 ful woman, in voluminous rose-red skirts and a costly 
 overcoat, presented themselves to him in amazing juxta- 
 position. 
 
 " Of course, I have forfeited all right to question you 
 as to your plans, Dominic," he said hurriedly and humbly. 
 " I quite realise that. I believed I was acting on principle 
 in keeping away from you, all the more because it pained 
 me terribly to do so. I believed I was being consistent. 
 Now I begin to fear I was only obstinate and cowardly. 
 Your kindness of manner has completely unmanned me. I 
 see how superior you are in liberality to myself. And so 
 it cuts me to the quick, more than ever, to part from 
 you."
 
 840 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 " Why should we part ? " Iglesias asked. 
 
 " But you are going away. The wife told me she heard 
 you were leaving London altogether ; whether to I hardly 
 like to mention the supposition to join some brotherhood 
 or or, to be married, she did not know." 
 
 Mr. Iglesias shook his head, smiling sweetly and bravely. 
 
 " Oh ! no, no, my dear fellow," he answered. " Rumour 
 must have been rather unpardonably busy with my name. 
 I fear I am about equally ill-fitted for monastic and for 
 married life. The day of splendid ventures, whether of 
 religion or of love, is over for me; and I shall die, as I 
 have lived, a bachelor and a layman. Nor shall I cease 
 to be your neighbour, for I am only returning here " he 
 pointed to the open door, in at which coatless white-aproned 
 men carried that miscellaneous collection of furniture 
 " to the little old Holland Street house. Lately I have 
 had a great craving upon me to be at home again alone, 
 save for one or two precious friendships ; with leisure to 
 read and to think ; and, in as far as my poor mental powers 
 permit, to become a humble student of the awe-inspiring 
 philosophy reconciling things natural and supernatural 
 of which the Catholic Church is the exponent, her creeds 
 its textbook, her ceremonies and ritual the divinely ap- 
 pointed symbols of its secret truths." Iglesias' expres- 
 sion was exalted, his speech penetrated by enthusiasm. " It 
 would be profitable and happy," he said, " before the final 
 auditing of accounts, to be a little better versed in this 
 wonderful and living wisdom." 
 
 And George Lovegrove stood watching him, bewildered, 
 agitated, full of doubt and inquiry. 
 
 " Ah ! it is all beyond me, quite beyond me," he exclaimed 
 presently. " Mistaken or not, I see you are in touch with 
 thoughts altogether outside my experience and compre- 
 hension. I supposed Romanism could only be held by un- 
 educated and superstitious persons. I see I was wrong.
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 341 
 
 
 
 I ask your pardon, Dominic. I see I quite undervalued 
 it." Then his manner changed, quick perception and 
 consequent distress seizing him. "Ah! but you are ill. 
 That is the meaning of it all. You are ill. Now I come 
 to observe you, I see how thin and drawn your face is. 
 How shall I ever forgive myself for not finding that out 
 sooner ! I have differed from you and blamed you. I have 
 sulked, and thought bitterly of you, and avoided you. I 
 have even been envious, hearing how successfully you 
 carried through affairs this anxious time at the bank. I 
 have been a contemptibly mean-spirited individual. No, I 
 can never forgive myself. I have found you again, only 
 to lose you. You are in bad health. You have been suf- 
 fering, and I never thought to inquire about that. I 
 never knew it." 
 
 But Dominic Iglesias made effort to comfort him, speak- 
 ing not uncheerfully, determining even to fight the fatigue 
 and weakness which, as he could not but own, daily in- 
 creased on him, if only for the sake of this faithful and 
 simple adherent. 
 
 " Perhaps the sands are running rather low," he said ; 
 " but that does not greatly matter. The conditions are 
 in process of alteration. Now that I am free of my City 
 work, the strain is practically over. With care and quiet, 
 the sands that remain in the glass may run very slowly. 
 I have a peaceful time in prospect, here in my old home. 
 When I left here, eight years ago, I could not make up 
 my mind to part with any of our family belongings, so I 
 warehoused all the contents of the house, save those which 
 I took to furnish my rooms at Cedar Lodge. Now these 
 half-forgotten possessions see the light once more. This 
 in itself should constitute a staying of the running sands, 
 a putting back of the hands of the clock. Then I have 
 two good servants to care for me. I am fortunate in 
 that. And your friendship is restored to me. I should be
 
 342 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 ungrateful if I did not live on for a while to enjoy all 
 this kindly circumstance. So do not grieve. There are 
 many after-dinner pipes to be smoked, many talks to be 
 talked yet. Come into the house, and see it as you used 
 to know it when we both were young. Surely it is a good 
 omen that you, my earliest friend, should be my first visitor 
 when I come home? "
 
 CHAPTER XXXV 
 
 DE COURCY SMYTH was not drank, but he had been drink- 
 ing persistently nipping, as his custom was in times of 
 mental excitement, in the fallacious hope of keeping up 
 courage and steadying irritable nerves. The series of 
 moods usually resultant on such recourse to spirituous 
 liquors, followed one another with clock-work regularity. 
 He was alternately hysterically elated, preternaturally 
 moral, offensively quarrelsome, maudlin to the point of 
 tears. The first matinee of his long-promised play had 
 prospered but very ill, notwithstanding large advertise- 
 ment and free list. The second had prospered even worse. 
 Mercifully disposed persons, slipping out between the acts, 
 had been careful not to return. Less amiably disposed 
 ones had remained to titter or hiss. Failure had been writ- 
 ten in capital letters across the whole performance and 
 deservedly, in the estimation of every one save the unhappy 
 author himself. The play had perished in the very act 
 of birth. 
 
 But of this tragic termination to so many extravagant 
 hopes Dominic Iglesias was still ignorant, as he entered 
 the dismantled sitting-room at Cedar Lodge that same 
 night a little after half -past ten o'clock. He had dined 
 in the old house in Holland Street; served by Frederick, 
 the German-Swiss valet, who, some weeks previously, hear- 
 ing of his intended departure, had announced his inten- 
 tion of " bettering himself," had given Mrs. Porcher warn- 
 ing, and, in moving terms and three languages, implored 
 employment of Iglesias, declaring that the other gentle- 
 men resident at Cedar Lodge were " no class," their clothes 
 utterly unworthy of his powers of brushing and folding. 
 
 343
 
 344 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 Iglesias stayed on in Holland Street until late, the charm 
 and gentleness of old associations, the sight of familiar 
 objects, the gladness of restored friendship with George 
 Lovegrove working upon him to thankfulness. He was 
 tranquil in spirit, serene with the calm twilight serenity of 
 the strong who have learned the secret of detachment, and, 
 who, while welcoming all glad and gracious occurrences, 
 have schooled themselves to resignation, and, in the affairs 
 of this world, do neither greatly fear nor greatly hope. 
 And it was in this spirit he had made his way back to Cedar 
 Lodge and entered the square panelled sitting-room. But, 
 the door closed, he paused, aware of some sinister influ- 
 ence, some unknown yet repulsive presence. The room was 
 nearly dark, the gas being lowered to a pin-point on either 
 side the mantelpiece. Dominic moved across to turn it 
 up, and in so doing stumbled over an unexpected obstacle. 
 De Courcy Smith, who had been dozing uneasily in the one 
 remaining armchair, sat upright with an oath. 
 
 " What are you at, you swine ! " he shouted. Then as 
 the light shone forth he made an effort to recover himself. 
 
 " It's hardly necessary to announce your advent by kick- 
 ing me, Mr. Iglesias," he said thickly, and without attempt- 
 ing to rise from his seat. " Not but that there is an 
 appropriateness in that graceful form of introduction. 
 Only a kick from the benevolent patron, who professed 
 himself so charitably disposed towards me, was required 
 to make up the sum of outrage which has been my portion 
 to-day. Have you seen the theatrical items in the evening 
 papers ? " With trembling hands he spread out a news- 
 paper upon his knees. " See the way that dirty reptile, 
 Percy Gerrard, who succeeded me upon The Daily Bulletin, 
 has chopped me and my play to mincemeat, cut bits of live 
 flesh out of me and fried them in filth, and washed down 
 my wounds with the vitriol of hypocritical compassion and 
 good advice? That is the style of recognition a really
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 345 
 
 tf 
 
 first-class work of art, fit to rank with the classics, 
 with Wycherley, and Congreve, and Sheridan, or Lytton 
 for there are qualities of all these very dissimilar masters 
 in my writing gets from the present-day press. As I 
 have told you all along, the critics and playwrights hate 
 me because they fear me. I have never spared them. I 
 have exposed them and their ignorance, and want of 
 scholarship, in print. They know I spoke the truth. 
 Their hatred is witness to my veracity. They have been 
 nursing their venom for years. Now with one consent 
 they pour it forth. It is a vile plot and conspiracy. They 
 were sworn to swamp me, so they formed a ring. They 
 did not care what they spent so long as they succeeded in 
 crushing me. Every one has been bought, miserably, 
 scandalously bought. This is the only conceivable ex- 
 planation of the reception my play has met with. They 
 got at the members of my company. My actors played 
 better at first, better at rehearsal. Yesterday and to-day 
 they have played like a row of wooden ninepins, of straw- 
 stuffed scarecrows, of rot-stricken idiots! They missed 
 their cues, and forgot their lines, or pretended to do so; 
 and then had the infernal impertinence to giggle and gag, 
 blast them ! I heard them. I could have screamed. I 
 tried to stop them; and the stage-manager swore at me 
 in the wings, and the scene-shifters laughed. It was a 
 hideous nightmare. The audience laughed the sound of 
 it is in my ears now, and it tortures me, for it was not 
 natural laughter. It was not spontaneous how could it 
 be so? It was simply part of this iniquitous conspiracy 
 to ruin me. It was hired mockery, bought and paid for, 
 the mockery of subsidised traitors, liars, imbeciles, the 
 inhuman mockery of grinning apes ! " 
 
 He crushed the newspaper together with both hands, 
 flung it across the room, and broke into hysterical weeping. 
 
 " For my play is a masterpiece," he wailed. " It is a
 
 346 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 work of genius. No other man living could have written 
 it. Yet it is damned by a brainless public and vindictive 
 press, while I know and they know they must know, the 
 fact is self-evident that it is great, nothing less than 
 great." 
 
 During this harangue Dominic Iglesias stood immova- 
 ble, facing the speaker, but looking down, not at him, rigid 
 in attitude, silent. Any attempt to stem the torrent of 
 the wretched man's speech would have been futile. Dominic 
 judged it kindest just to wait, letting passion tear him 
 till, by force of its own violence, it had worn itself out. 
 Then, but not till them, it might be helpful to intervene. 
 Still the exhibition was a very painful one, putting a heavy 
 strain upon the spectator. For be a fellow creature never 
 so displeasing in nature and in habit, never so cankered by 
 vanity and self-love, it cannot be otherwise than hideous 
 to see him upon the rack. And that de Courcy Smyth was 
 very actually upon the rack a rack well deserved, may be, 
 and of his own constructing, but which wrenched his every 
 joint to the agony of dislocation nevertheless there could 
 be no manner of doubt. Coming as conclusion to the long 
 day, to the peaceful evening the thought of the Lady of 
 the Windswept Dust, moreover, and her fortunes so emi- 
 nently and presently just now in the balance, in his mind 
 the whole situation was horrible to Dominic Iglesias. 
 
 But Smyth's mood changed, his tears ceasing as incon- 
 tinently as they had begun. He ceased to slouch and 
 writhe, passed his hands across his blood-shot eyes, drew 
 himself up in his chair, began to snarl, even to swagger. 
 
 " I forget myself, and forget you, too, Mr. Iglesias 
 which is annoying," he said ; " for you are about the last 
 person from whom I could expect, or should desire to 
 receive, sympathy. Persons of my world, scholars and 
 idealists, and persons of your world, money-grubbing 
 materialists, can, in the nature of things, have very little
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 347 
 
 in common. There is a great gulf fixed between them. 
 I beg your pardon for having so far forgotten myself 
 as to ignore that fact, and talked on subjects incompre- 
 hensible to you. What follows, however, will be more in 
 your line, I imagine, and it is this which has made me come 
 here to-night. You realise that your investment has 
 turned out an unfortunate one? You have lost, irre- 
 trievably lost, your money." 
 
 " I was not wholly unprepared for that," Dominic an- 
 swered. His temper was beginning to rise. Sodden with 
 drink, maddened by failure, hardly accountable for his 
 words or actions, still the man's tone was rather too offen- 
 sive for endurance. " I had made full provision for such 
 a contingency. I accept the loss. Pray do not let it 
 trouble you." 
 
 "Oh! you accept it, do you? You were prepared for 
 it? " Smyth broke in. " You can afford to throw away 
 a cool three hundred pounds the expenses will amount to 
 that at least in the bulk. How very agreeable for you! 
 Your late operations in the City must have been surpris^- 
 ingly profitable. I was not aware, until now, that we had 
 the honour of numbering a millionaire among us at Cedar 
 Lodge. But let me tell you this extremely superior tone 
 does not please me, Mr. Iglesias. It smells of insult. I 
 warn you you had better be a little careful. Even a 
 miserable persecuted pauper like myself can make it un- 
 pleasant for those who insult him. I must request you to 
 remember that I am a gentleman by birth, and that I have 
 the feelings of my class where my personal honour is con- 
 cerned. Do you suppose I do not know perfectly well that 
 the benevolent attitude you have seen fit to assume towards 
 me has been a blind, from first to last; and that every 
 penny you have advanced me until now, as well as the three 
 hundred pounds, the loss of which you so amiably beg 
 me not to let trouble me, is hush-money? Yes, hush-
 
 348 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 money, I repeat, the price of my silence regarding your 
 intrigue with my wife my wife who calls herself " 
 
 " We will introduce no woman's name into this conversa- 
 tion, if you please," Iglesias interrupted sternly. 
 
 The limit of things pardonable had been passed. His 
 face was white and keen as a sword. The weight of years 
 and of failing health had vanished, burned up by fierce 
 disgust and anger, as is mist by the sun-heat. He was 
 young, arrogant in bearing, careless of consequence or of 
 danger as some fifteenth-century finely bred fighting man 
 face to face with his enemy and traducer, who, given 
 honourable opportunity, he would kill or be killed by, with- 
 out faintest scruple or remorse. And of this temper of 
 mind his aspect was so eloquent that de Courcy Smyth, 
 muddled with liquor though he was, seeing him, was seized 
 with panic. He scrambled to his feet, flung himself be- 
 hind the chair, clinging to the back of it for support. 
 
 " Don't look at me like that, you Spanish devil ! " he 
 whimpered. " You paralyse me. You hypnotise me. My 
 brain is splitting. You're drawing the life out of me. 
 I shall go mad. If you come a step nearer I'll make a 
 scandal. I'll call for help. Ah! God in heaven, who's 
 that?" 
 
 Only the housemaid entering, salver in hand, and leaving 
 the door wide open behind her. Upon the landing with- 
 out, Farge and Worthington, in comic attitudes, stood at 
 attention. 
 
 "A telegram for you, sir. Is the boy to wait?" she 
 inquired, in a stifled voice. " She could hardly keep a 
 straight face," as she reported downstairs subsequently, 
 " that ridiculous Farge was so full of his jokes." 
 
 Iglesias tore open the yellow envelope and held the 
 telegraph-form to the light. 
 
 " Glorious luck. Happy as a queen. Come to supper 
 after performance to-morrow. Love. Poppy,"
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 349 
 
 # 
 
 His face softened. 
 
 " No answer," he said, and turned purposing to speak 
 some word of mercy to wretched de Courcy Smyth. But 
 the latter had slunk out at the open door, while Mr. Farge, 
 in an ungovernable paroxysm of humour levelled at the 
 departing housemaid effectually covered his retreat by 
 cake-walking, with very high knee action, the length of 
 the landing, playing appropriate dance-music, the while, 
 upon an imaginary banjo in the shape of Worthington's 
 new crook-handled walking stick. 
 
 For some time Dominic Iglesias heard shuffling, nerve- 
 less footsteps moving to and fro in the room overhead. 
 Then Smyth threw himself heavily upon his bed. The 
 wire-wove mattress creaked, and creaked again twice. Un- 
 broken silence followed, and Iglesias breathed more easily, 
 hoping the miserable being slept. For him, Iglesias, there 
 was no sleep. His body was too tired. His mind too 
 vividly and painfully awake. He lay down, it is true, 
 since he did not care to remain in the dismantled sitting- 
 room or occupy the chair in which de Courcy Smyth had 
 sat. But, throughout the night, he stared at the dark- 
 ness and heard the hours strike. At sunset the wind 
 had dropped dead. In the small hours it began to rise, 
 and before dawn to freshen, veering to another quarter. 
 Softly at first, and then with richer diapason, the cedar 
 tree greeted its mysterious comrade, singing of far-distant 
 times and places, and of the permanence of nature as 
 against the fitful evanescent life of man. That husky 
 singing soothed Dominic Iglesias, and calmed him, as- 
 suring him that in the hands of the Almighty are all 
 things, small and great, past, present, and to come. There 
 is neither haste, nor omission, nor accident, nor oversight 
 in the divine plan ; but that plan is large beyond the pos- 
 sibility of human intellect to grasp or comprehend, there- 
 fore humble faith is also highest wisdom.
 
 350 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 As the dawn quickened into day Dominic drew aside the 
 curtain and looked out. Behind the dark branches, where 
 they cleared the housetops and met the open sky, thrown 
 wide upward to the zenith, was the rose-scarlet of sunrise, 
 holding, as it seemed to him, at once the splendour of battle 
 and the peace of crowned achievement and was it but 
 a pretty conceit or a truth of happiest import? the 
 colour of certain flaring omnibus knifeboard bills and the 
 colour of a certain woman's name.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI 
 
 THE narrow lane, running back at right angles to the 
 great thoroughfare, was filled with blurred yellowish light 
 and covered in with gloom, low-hanging and impene- 
 trable. The high, blank buildings on either side of it 
 looked like the perpendicular walls of a tunnel, the black 
 roof they apparently supported being as solid and sub- 
 stantial as themselves. The effect thereby produced was 
 suspect and prison-like, as of a space walled in and closed 
 from open air and day. Outside the stage entrance of 
 the Twentieth Century Theatre a small crowd had col- 
 lected and formed up in two parallel lines across the pave- 
 ment to the curb, against which a smart single brougham 
 and some half a dozen four-wheelers and hansoms were 
 drawn up. The crowd, which gathered and broke only to 
 gather again, was composed for the main part of persons 
 of the better artisan class, respectable, soberly habited, evi- 
 dently awaiting the advent of relations employed within 
 the theatre. There was also a sprinkling of showy young 
 women, attended by undersized youths flashily dressed. On 
 the fringes of it night-birds, male and female, of evil 
 aspect, loitered, watchful of possible prey; while two or 
 three gentlemen, correct, highly-civilised, stood smoking, 
 each with the air of studied indifference which defies at- 
 tempted recognition on the part of friend or foe. 
 
 And among these last Dominic Iglesias must be counted ; 
 though, in his case, indifference was not assumed but real. 
 His surroundings were novel, it is true, and produced on 
 him clear impressions both pictorial and moral; but those 
 impressions were of his surroundings in and for themselves, 
 rather than in any doubtfulness of their relation to him- 
 self. For his mind was occupied with problems painful 
 
 351
 
 352 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 in character and difficult of solution; and to the said 
 problems, heightening the emotional strain of them, his 
 surroundings the sense of feverish life, of all-encom- 
 passing restless humanity ; the figures anxious, degraded, 
 of questionable purpose or merely frivolous, which started 
 into momentary distinctness ; the scraps of conversation, 
 caught in passing, instinct with suggestion, squalid or 
 passionate; along with the ceaseless tramp of footsteps, 
 and tumult of the great thoroughfare just now packed 
 with the turn-out of neighbouring places of entertainment 
 supplied a background penetratingly appropriate. 
 
 For a good half-hour Mr. Iglesias stood there. At in- 
 tervals the door, of the stage entrance swung open, caus- 
 ing a movement > -f interest and comment among the crowd. 
 One by one hr./soms and four-wheelers, obtaining fares, 
 rattled away over the stones. Yet the Lady of the Wind- 
 swept Dust tarried. It grew late, and Iglesias greatly 
 desired her coming, greatly desired to speak with her, and 
 speaking to find approximate solution, at least, of some 
 of the problems which lay so heavy upon his mind. Mean- 
 while, the crowd melted and vanished, leaving him alone 
 in the blurred yellowish light beneath the low-hanging 
 roof of impenetrable gloom, save for the haunting pres- 
 ence of some few of those terrible human birds of prey. 
 
 He was about to turn away also, not particularly relish- 
 ing the remaining company, when, with a rush, Poppy was 
 beside him, in stately garments of black velvet and glim- 
 mering tissue of silver; her head and shoulders draped 
 with something of daring and magnificence, in her blue- 
 purple jewelled dragon-embroidered scarf. She caught 
 Iglesias' right hand in both of hers and held it a moment 
 against her breast. And during that brief interval he 
 registered the fact that, notwithstanding her beauty, the 
 force of her personality and richness of her dress, she did 
 not look out of place in this somewhat cut-throat alley,
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 353 
 
 with the questionable sights and sounds of midnight Lon- 
 don all about her; but vivid, exultant, true daughter of 
 great cities, fearless manipulator of the very varied op- 
 portunities they offer, past-master, for joy and sorrow, 
 in the curious arts they teach. 
 
 " Get into the brougham, dear man," she said, " and 
 let me talk. There, put up the window on the traffic side. 
 I have been in the liveliest worry about you. Had the 
 house turned out of windows to find you and gave things 
 in general the deuce of a time. The brougham's com- 
 fortable, isn't it? Fallowfeild's jobbed it for the winter 
 for me. All the same I played like an angel, out of pure 
 desperation, thinking you might be ill. I made the audi- 
 ence cry big, big tears, bless 'em. And it wasn't the part 
 not a bit of it. It was you, just simply you. And then 
 I dawdled talking to Antony Hammond about some lines in 
 the second act I want altered, so as to let mys'elf down 
 easy before digesting the disappointment of driving back 
 to Bletchworth Mansions alone. I wanted so very badly to 
 have you see me. Beloved and most faithless of beings, 
 why the mischief didn't you come? " 
 
 And Iglesias sitting beside her watching her joyous 
 face, crowned by her dark hair, set in the gleaming folds 
 of her jewelled scarf, as passing lights revealed it clearly, 
 or shifting left it in soft shadow, divined rather than 
 actually seen, became sadly conscious that the problems 
 which oppressed him were not only hard of solution but 
 hard of statement likewise. It seemed heartless to pro- 
 pound them in this, her hour of success. Yet, unless he 
 was deeply mistaken, the statement of them must tell for 
 emancipation and relief in the end. 
 
 "The play has gone well, and you are happy?" he 
 asked her. 
 
 " Gorgeously I grant you I was a bit nervous as to 
 whether during these years of well love in idleness, I
 
 354 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 had not lost touch with my art. But I haven't. I have 
 only matured in mind and in method. I am not conceited, 
 dear man, truly I am not; but I am neither too lazy nor 
 too modest to use my brains. What I know I am not 
 afraid to apply. I've very little theory, but a precious deal 
 of practice and that's the way to get on. Don't talk 
 about your ideas just use them for all you're worth. 
 But this is beside the mark. You're trying to head me 
 off. Why didn't you come? " 
 
 " I would gladly have come," Iglesias answered. " My 
 disappointment has been quite as great as yours." 
 
 " Bless your heart ! " Poppy murmured under her 
 breath. 
 
 " But it was impossible for me to come. I was detained 
 until it was too late." He paused, uncertain how best to 
 say that which had to be said. 
 
 " Oh ! fiddle ! " Poppy cried, with a lif t of her head. " I 
 stand first. You ought not to have let yourself be de- 
 tained. After all, it's not every day someone you know 
 blazes from a farthing dip into a star of the first magni- 
 tude. You might very well have crowded other things 
 aside. I feel a trifle hurt, dear man, really I do." 
 
 " Believe me, no ordinary matter would have prevented 
 my coming," Iglesias answered. To his relief the carriage 
 just then turned into the comparative peace of Langham 
 Place. It became possible to speak softly. " There was 
 a death in the house last night," he went on, " that of a 
 person with whom I have been rather closely associated. 
 He died under circumstances demanding investigations of 
 a distressing character. No one save myself was qualified, 
 or perhaps willing, to assume the responsibility of calling 
 in the authorities." 
 
 Iglesias glanced at his companion, conscious that while 
 he spoke her attitude and humour had altered considerably. 
 She was motionless. He saw her profile, dark against the
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 355 
 
 square light of window-glass. Her mouth was slightly 
 open, as with intensity of attention. 
 
 " Well well what then? " she said. 
 
 " The man had just suffered a heavy reverse. He had 
 staked all his hopes, all his future, upon a single venture. 
 It proved a failure. He could not accept the fact, and 
 believed himself the victim of gross injustice and of 
 organised conspiracy." 
 
 " Do you believe it, too? " 
 
 " No," Iglesias answered. " I have an immense pity for 
 him, as who would not? Still, I am compelled to believe 
 that failure came from within, rather than from without. 
 He overrated his own powers." 
 
 Poppy held up her hand imperiously. "Wait half a 
 minute," she said, in an oddly harsh voice. Leaning for- 
 ward she put down the front glass and called to the coach- 
 man : " Don't go to Bletchworth Mansions. Drive on. 
 Never mind where, so long as you keep to empty streets. 
 Drive on and on do you hear ? till I tell you to stop." 
 
 She put the window up again and settled herself back 
 in her place, dragging the scarf from off her head and 
 baring her throat. She looked full at Mr. Iglesias, her 
 face showing ghostly white against the dark upholstery 
 of the carriage. Her eyes were wide with question and 
 with fear, which was also, in some strange way, hope. 
 
 " Now you can speak, dear friend," she said quite 
 steadily. " I shall be glad to hear the whole of it, though 
 it is an ugly story. The man was miserable, and he is 
 dead, and the circumstances of his death point to what 
 suicide? " 
 
 In reply Iglesias told her how that morning, the servants 
 failing to get any response to their knocking, the upper 
 part of the house being, moreover, pervaded by a sickening 
 smell of gas, help had been called in; and, de Courcy 
 Smyth's door being forced open, he had been found lying,
 
 356 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 fully clothed, stark and cold upon his bed, an empty phial 
 of morphia and an empty glass on the table beside him, 
 both gas-jets turned full on though not alight. 
 
 At the top of Portland Place the coachman took his 
 way northwestward, first skirting the outer ring of 
 Regent's Park and then making the gradually ascending 
 slope of the Finchley Road. The detached houses on 
 either side, standing back in their walled gardens, were 
 mostly blind. Only here and there, behind drawn curtains, 
 a window glowed, telling of intimate drama gallant or 
 mournful within. The wide grey pavements were de- 
 serted ; the place arrestingly quiet, save for the occasional 
 heavy tread of a passing policeman on beat, and the 
 rhythmical trot of the horse. And the Lady of the Wind- 
 swept Dust was quiet likewise, looking straight before her, 
 sitting stiffly upright, her hands clasped in her lap, the 
 shifting lights and shadows playing queerly over her face 
 and her bare neck, causing her to appear unsubstantial 
 and indefinite as a figure in a dream. Yet a strange 
 energy possessed her and emanated from her, so that the 
 atmosphere about her was electric, oppressive to Iglesias 
 as with a brooding of storm. Her very quietness was 
 agitating, weighed with meaning which challenged his 
 imagination and even his powers of reticence and self-con- 
 trol. Opposite Swiss Cottage Station, where the main road 
 forks, a string of market waggons slouching, drowsy car- 
 men, backed by a pale green wall of glistening cabbages, 
 nodding above their slow-moving teams passed, with a 
 jingle of brass-mounted harness and grind of wheels. This 
 roused Poppy, and the storm broke. 
 
 " Dominic," she said breathlessly, " do you at all know 
 what you've just told me means to me? " 
 
 " I have never known positively until now ; but it was 
 impossible that I should not have entertained suspicions." 
 
 " Did he you know who I mean ever speak of me ? "
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 357 
 
 - 
 
 " I think," Iglesias said, " he came very near doing so, 
 more than once. But I put a stop to the conversation." 
 
 " You frightened him," Poppy rejoined. " I know one 
 could do that. It was a last resource, a hateful one. Is 
 there anything so difficult to forgive as being driven to be 
 cruel? One was bound to be cruel in self-defence, or one 
 would have been stifled, utterly degraded by self-contempt, 
 bled to death not only in respect of money but of self- 
 esteem." 
 
 She threw up her hands with a gesture at once fierce 
 and despairing. 
 
 " Oh ! the weak, the weak," she cried, " of how many 
 crimes they are the authors ! Crimes more particularly 
 abominable when the weak one is the man, and woman 
 poor brute is strong." 
 
 She settled herself sideways in the corner of the car- 
 riage, turning her face once more full upon her companion. 
 
 " Look here," she said, " I don't want to whitewash 
 myself. What I've done I've done. I don't pretend it's 
 pretty or innocent, or that I haven't jolly well got to pay 
 the price of it though I think a good deal has been paid 
 by now. But it seems to me my real crime was in marrying 
 him, rather than in leaving him. It was a crime against 
 love love, which alone, if you've any real sense of the 
 inherent decencies of things, makes marriage otherwise 
 than an outrage upon a woman's pride and her virtue. 
 But, then, one doesn't know all that when one's barely out 
 of one's teens. And, you see, like a fool I took the first 
 comer out of bravado, just that people mightn't see how 
 awfully hard hit I was by his people interfering and pre- 
 venting my marrying the poor, dear boy who gave me this " 
 Poppy spread out the end of her dragon scarf- " I've 
 told you about him. Stage people are absurdly simple in 
 some ways, you know. They live in such a world of pre- 
 tences and fictions that they lose their sense of fact, or
 
 358 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 rather they never develop it. They're awfully easily taken 
 in. Words go a tremendous long way with them. And 
 de Courcy could talk. He was appallingly fluent, specially 
 on the subject of himself. He made me believe he was 
 rather wonderful, and I wanted to believe he was wonderful. 
 I wanted to believe he was all the geniuses in creation 
 rolled into one. All the more I wanted to believe it be- 
 cause I wasn't one scrap in love with him." 
 
 Poppy beat with one hand almost roughly on Mr. 
 Iglesias' arm. 
 
 " Do you see, do you see, do you see ? " she repeated. 
 "Do you understand? I want you so badly to under- 
 stand." 
 
 And he answered her gently and gravely : " Do not 
 be afraid, dear friend. I see with your eyes. I feel with 
 your heart. As far as one human being can enter into 
 and share the experience of another, I do understand." 
 
 " But the nuisance is," she went on, the corners of her 
 mouth taking a wicked twist, " you know so very much 
 more about a man after you've married him. Other people 
 are inclined to forget that sometimes. Consuming egoism 
 is hideous at close quarters. It comes out in a thousand 
 ways, in mean little tyrannies and absurd jealousies which 
 would never have entered into one's head. I don't want to 
 go into all that. It's better forgot. Only they piled up 
 and up, till the shadow of them shut out the sunshine ; and 
 I got so bored, so madly and intolerably bored. You see, 
 I had tried to believe in him at first. In self-defence I 
 had done so, and stood by him, and done my very best to 
 put him through. But when I began to understand that 
 there was nothing to stand by or put through, that his 
 talent was not talent at all, but merely a vain man's long- 
 ing to possess talent well, the situation became pretty 
 bad. I tried to be civil. I tried to hold my tongue, 
 indeed I did. But to be bullied and grumbled at, and
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 359 
 
 f 
 
 expected to work, so as to give him leisure and means for 
 the development of gifts which didn't exist it wasn't 
 good enough." 
 
 Poppy put up her hands and pushed the masses of her 
 hair from her forehead. And all the while the shifting 
 lights and shadows played over her white face and bare 
 neck, and the horse trotted on, past closed shops and cur- 
 tained windows, farther out of London and into the night. 
 
 " He didn't do anything which the world calls vicious," 
 she continued presently. A great dreariness had come 
 into the tones of her voice. " He was faithful to me, as 
 the world counts faithfulness, simply because he didn't 
 care for women except for philandering with sentimental 
 sillies who thought him an unappreciated eighth wonder 
 of the world, and pawed over and pitied him. La ! la ! the 
 mere thought of it makes me sick ! But he was too much 
 in love with himself to be capable of even an animal pas- 
 sion for anybody else. And he made a great point of his 
 virtue. I heard a lot about it oh ! a lot ! " 
 
 For a minute or two Poppy sat silent. Then she turned 
 to Mr. Iglesias, smiling, as those smile who refuse submis- 
 sion to some cruel pain. 
 
 " I wasn't born bad, dear man," she said, " and I held 
 out longer than most women in my profession would, where 
 morals are easy and it's lightly come and lightly go in 
 respect of lovers and love. But one fine day I packed up 
 my traps and cleared out. He'd been whining for years, 
 and some little thing he said or did I really forget exactly 
 what raised Cain in me, and I thought I'd jolly well 
 give him something to whine about. I knew perfectly well 
 he wouldn't divorce me. He wanted me too much, at the 
 end of a string, to torment, and to get money from when 
 times were bad. Not that I cared for a divorce. I con- 
 sider it the clumsiest invention out for setting wrongs 
 right. I have too great a respect for marriage, which
 
 360 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 ought, if it means anything, to mean motherhood and chil- 
 dren, and a clean, wholesome start in life for the second 
 generation. When a woman breaks away and crosses the 
 lines, she only makes bad worse, in my opinion, by the 
 hypocritical respectability of a marriage while her hus- 
 band is still alive. Let's be honest sinners any way, if 
 sin we must." 
 
 Again she paused, looking backward in thought, seeing 
 and hearing things which, for the honour of others, it 
 was kindest not to repeat. The carriage moved slowly, 
 the horse slackening its pace in climbing the last steep 
 piece of hill which leads to the pond on Hampstead Heath. 
 
 " And now it's over," Poppy said, letting her hands 
 drop in her lap. " Done with. The poor wretched thing's 
 dead has killed himself. That is a fitting conclusion. 
 He was always his own worst enemy. Well, as far as I am 
 concerned, let him rest in peace." 
 
 " Amen," Iglesias responded, " so let him rest. * Shall 
 not the judge of all the world do right,' counting his 
 merits as well as his demerits, making all just excuses for 
 his lapses and wrong-doings ; knowing, as we can never 
 know, exactly how far he was and was not accountable for 
 his own and for others' sins. And now, dear friend, as 
 you have said, this long misery is over and done with. 
 Whatever remains of practical business you can leave 
 safely to me. His memory shall be shielded as far as fore- 
 sight and sympathy can shield it, and your name need not 
 appear." 
 
 The Lady of the Windswept Dust took his hand and 
 held it. 
 
 " I don't know," she said brokenly, " why all this should 
 come upon you." 
 
 " For a very simple reason," he answered. " What did 
 you tell me yourself ? You stand first. And that is true." 
 
 But it may be remarked in passing that there are limits
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 361 
 
 to the passive obedience of even the best-trained of men- 
 servants. Those of Poppy's coachman had been reached. 
 At the top of the hill he drew up, vigorously determined 
 to drive no farther into the wilderness, without renewed and 
 very distinct information as to why and where he went. 
 Perceiving which Dominic Iglesias opened the carriage 
 door and stepped out. 
 
 " The night is fine and dry," he said. " Let us walk a 
 little, and then let us drive home. You have your work 
 to-morrow or, rather, to-day and you must have a rea- 
 sonable amount of rest first. The stream of your life has 
 been arrested, diverted from its natural channel; but it 
 still runs strong and clear yet. You have genius, real, not 
 imagined, so you must husband your energies. Come and 
 walk. Let the air soothe and calm you ; and then, leaving 
 all the past in Almighty God's safe keeping, go home and 
 rest." 
 
 Here the high-road stretches along the ridge of the hill, 
 a giant causeway, the broken land of the open heath fall- 
 ing away sharply to left and right. It was windless. 
 The sky was covered, and the atmosphere, though not 
 foggy at this height, was thick as with smoke ; so that the 
 road, with its long avenue of sparse-set lamps dwindling 
 in the extreme distance to faintest sparks was as a pale 
 bridge thrown across the void of black unsounded space. 
 All, save the road itself, the lamps, and seats, and broken 
 fringe of grass edging the raised footpath of it, was form- 
 less and vague, peopled by shapes, dark against darkness, 
 such as the eye itself fearfully produces in straining to 
 penetrate unyielding obscurity. The effect was one of in- 
 tense isolation, of divorce from humanity and the works 
 and ways of it, so present and overpowering it might well 
 seem that, reaching the far end of that pale bridge, the 
 wayfarer would part company with the things of time al- 
 together and pass into another state of being.
 
 362 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 And this so worked upon Poppy that, some fifty yards 
 along the causeway, her black and silver skirts gathered 
 ankle-high about her, she stopped, drawing very close to 
 Iglesias and laying her hand upon his arm. 
 
 " Listen to the silence," she said. " Look at the empti- 
 ness. I don't quite like it, even with you. It's too sug- 
 gestive of death, death with no sure hope of life beyond it. 
 I am quite good now, quite sane and reasonable. I have 
 put aside all bitterness. I'll never say another hard word 
 of him, or, in as far as I can, think a hard thought." 
 
 Then turning, suddenly she gave a cry, perceiving that 
 east and south all London lay below them formless, too, 
 indefinite, enormous, a City of the Plains, unseen in detail 
 but indicated through the gloom as a vast semi-circle of 
 smouldering fire. 
 
 Poppy stretched out both arms, letting her splendid 
 draperies trail in the dust. 
 
 " Ah ! how I love it, how I love it," she cried. " Let us 
 go back, dear man. For it belongs to me and I belong to 
 it. In the name of my art I must try conclusions with it. 
 I must play to it, and conquer it, and enchant, and possess 
 it, since I am free at last I am free."
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII 
 
 SERENA'S manner, though gracious, was lofty, almost 
 regal. She had, indeed, lately looked upon crowned heads, 
 and the glory of them seemed, somehow, to have rubbed off 
 on her. 
 
 " Yes," she said, " I came up for the Queen's funeral. 
 Lady Samuelson felt it was a thing I ought not to miss, 
 and I agreed with her. It was inconvenient to leave home, 
 because I had a number of engagements. Still, I felt I 
 might regret it afterwards if I did not see it. And then, 
 of course, Lady Samuelson was so kind the year before 
 last, when I had so very much to worry me, that I feel I 
 owe it to her to stay with her whenever she asks me to do 
 so. Where did you see the procession from, Rhoda ? " 
 
 " Well, on the whole I thought it better to remain at 
 home," Mrs. Lovegrove confessed, " though Georgie was 
 most pressing I should go with him. You are slender, 
 Serena, and that makes a great deal of difference in going 
 about. But I find crowds and excitement very trying. 
 And then it must all have been very affecting and solemn. 
 I doubted if I could witness it without giving way too much 
 and troubling others. It is mortifying to feel you are 
 spoiling the pleasure of those that are with you, and I 
 wanted poor Georgie to enjoy himself as much as he 
 could." 
 
 " In that case it was certainly better to remain at home," 
 Serena rejoined. "I have my feelings very much under 
 control. Even when I was quite a child that used to be 
 said of me. It used to irritate Susan." 
 
 " Susan has a more impetuous nature," Mrs. Lovegrove 
 observed. The day of domestic eclipse was happily passed. 
 
 363
 
 36* THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 She had come into her own again ; consequently she was 
 disposed to be slightly argumentative, sitting here upon 
 her own Chesterfield sofa in her own drawing-room, even 
 with Serena. 
 
 " I wonder if she has I mean I wonder whether Susan 
 really has a more impetuous nature," the latter rejoined, 
 " or whether she is only more wanting in self-control. I 
 often think people get credit for strong feelings, when it 
 is only that they make no effort to control themselves. 
 And that is unfair. I never have been able to see why it 
 was considered so creditable to have strong feelings. They 
 usually give a lot of inconvenience to other people. I am 
 not sure that it is not self-indulgent to have strong feel- 
 ings. We had excellent places just opposite the Marble 
 Arch. Of course Lady Samuelson has a great deal of 
 interest; and we saw everything. In some ways I think, 
 as a sight, the procession was overrated. But I am glad 
 I went. You can never tell whether anything is worth 
 seeing or not until you have seen it; and so I certainly 
 might have regretted if I had not gone. Still, I think 
 you were quite wise in not going, Rhoda, if you were 
 likely to be upset; and then, as you say, it must be un- 
 pleasant getting about if one is very stout. Of course, 
 I cannot really enter into that. I take after mamma's 
 family. They are always slender. But the Lovegroves 
 often grow stout. George, of course, has, and I should 
 not be surprised if Susan did when she is older. But then 
 Susan and I are entirely different in almost everything." 
 
 " I suppose you have heard of our dear vicar being ap- 
 pointed to the new bishopric of Slowby, Serena," Mrs. 
 Lovegrove remarked. The amplitude, or non-amplitude, 
 of the family figure was beginning to get upon her nerves. 
 
 " Oh ! dear, yes, of course I have," Serena answered 
 with raised eyebrows and a condescending expression of 
 countenance. " Not that it will make very much differ-
 
 THE PAR HORIZON 
 
 -...v - - 
 
 ence to me, I suppose. I am so little at home now. But 
 naturally people, hearing we knew the Nevingtons, came to 
 us for information about them. I don't think anybody 
 had ever heard of Dr. Nevington at Slowby, and so they 
 were very glad to learn anything we could tell them. Of 
 course it is a very great rise for Dr. Nevington, though he 
 will only be a suffragan bishop. Still, he must be very 
 much flattered, after merely having a parish of this kind. 
 Susan is very pleased at the appointment. She wrote to 
 Dr. Nevington immediately and has had a number of letters 
 from him. I was quite willing she should write, but she 
 told him how popular his appointment was in Midlandshire. 
 And I thought that was going rather far, because Susan 
 has no real means of knowing whether it is popular or not. 
 She could only know that she thought she liked it herself, 
 and had praised him among her friends. And I wonder 
 whether she is right I mean I wonder whether she really 
 will like it. Of course Susan has been very prominent and 
 has had everything her own way with most of the clergy- 
 men's wives in Slowby. I think that has been rather bad 
 for Susan and given her an undue idea of her own im- 
 portance. Now naturally Mrs. Nevington will be the 
 head of everything and the clergymen's wives will go for 
 advice to her. I do not see how Susan can help disliking 
 that. And then Mrs. Nevington is said to be a very good 
 public speaker. I am perfectly certain Susan will dislike 
 that. For I always observe that people who speak a great 
 deal themselves, like Susan, never get on well with other 
 good speakers." She moved a little, throwing back the 
 fronts of her black beaded jacket her complimentary 
 mourning was scrupulously correct and adjusting the 
 black silk tie at her throat. " Of course I may be mis- 
 taken," she added, " but if you ask me, Rhoda, I fancy 
 you will find that Susan and Mrs. Nevington will not re- 
 main friends for very long."
 
 366 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 " I am distressed to hear you express such an opinion, 
 Serena," Mrs. Lovegrove returned. The tone of mingled 
 patronage and possession in which her guest spoke of her 
 own two particular sacred totems, vicar and vicaress, in- 
 censed her highly. She wished she had not introduced the 
 subject of the Slowby bishopric. "When the object in 
 view is a truly good one," she added, with some severity, 
 " I should suppose all right-meaning people would strive 
 to sink petty rivalries and cooperate. I should quite be- 
 lieve it would prove so in Susan's case." 
 
 " Of course she would not give Mrs. Nevington's speak- 
 ing well as her reason, if they did not remain on friendly 
 terms," Serena returned negligently. " But then people 
 so very seldom give their real reasons for what they do, 
 Rhoda. Surely you must have observed that. I think 
 they are generally very willing to deceive themselves a 
 good deal." 
 
 " I am afraid it is so with too many, Serena, and with 
 some who would be the last to own it when applied to 
 themselves." Then the wife determined by a piece 
 of daring strategy to carry the war into the enemy's 
 country. " And that reminds me," she said. " I sup- 
 pose you have heard that Mr. Iglesias has left Trimmer's 
 Green?" 
 
 " I do not the least know what right you have to sup- 
 pose anything of the kind, Rhoda," the lady addressed 
 replied with a haste and asperity far from regal. " You 
 must have very odd ideas of the people I meet, either at 
 Lady Samuelson's or at Slowby, if you imagine I am likely 
 to hear anything about Mr. Iglesias from them. If I 
 had not met him here, of course, I should never have heard 
 of him at all; and if I had never heard of him I should 
 have been spared a great deal. Still, after all that has 
 occurred, I can quite see that Mr. Iglesias might find it 
 better to leave Trimmer's Green."
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 367 
 
 jf 
 
 " Miss Eliza Hart, if you please, ma'am," this from the 
 house-parlourmaid. 
 
 In accordance with established precedent, Serena should 
 have risen from the place of honour, upon the sofa, mak- 
 ing room for the newcomer. But she defied precedent. 
 Acknowledging the said newcomer with the stiffest of 
 bows, she sat tight. Her hostess, however, proved equal 
 to the occasion. 
 
 " Dear me, Miss Hart," she began, " I am sure you are 
 quite the stranger. Take that chair, will you not? And 
 how is Mrs. Porcher? The numbers, I trust, filling up 
 again at Cedar Lodge? Mr. Lovegrove and myself did 
 truly sympathise in Mrs. Porcher's trouble in the autumn. 
 Such a terrible occurrence to have in your house! Of 
 course very damaging, for a time, to all prospects. And 
 I shall always believe it was the great exertions he made 
 then that broke down poor Mr. Iglesias' health. Yes, 
 indeed, Miss Hart, I regret to say he does remain very 
 ailing. Mr. Lovegrove sees him almost daily. He has 
 run round to Holland Street now, has Georgie ; but I expect 
 him back any minute. We were just speaking of Mr. 
 Iglesias were we not, Serena? and I was about to tell 
 Miss Lovegrove what a sweet pretty house he has. You 
 have seen it often no doubt, Miss Hart." 
 
 But here Serena arose, with much dignity, and retired 
 in the direction of the window. 
 
 " Pray do not think about me, Rhoda," she said over 
 her shoulder, " or let me interrupt your and your friend's 
 conversation. I am going to see if the carriage is here. 
 Lady Samuelson said she might be able to send it for me. 
 She could not be sure, but she might. And I told her I 
 would be on the watch, as she objects to the horses being 
 kept standing in this weather. But pray do not think 
 about me. Until it comes I can quite well amuse myself." 
 
 Holding aside the lace curtain she looked out. Upon
 
 368 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 the rawly green grass remnants of discoloured snow lay in 
 unsightly patches, while the bare branches of the plane- 
 trees and balsam-poplars shuddered in the harsh blast. 
 The prospect was far from alluring, and Serena surveyed 
 it with a wrathful eye. 
 
 " Really, Rhoda's behaviour to me is most extraor- 
 dinary," she said to herself. " I had to mark my dis- 
 pleasure. For poor George's sake she ought not to be 
 allowed to go too far. She has grown so very self-asser- 
 tive. Last year her manner was much better. I suppose 
 she and George have made it up again. People who are 
 not really ladies, like Rhoda, are always so very much 
 nicer when they are depressed. I wonder what has hap- 
 pened to make George make it up with her ! " 
 
 And then she fell very furiously to listening. 
 
 " We did talk it over, did Peachie Porcher and myself," 
 the great Eliza was saying, " for I do not deny, at the 
 time of our trouble, a certain gentleman came out very 
 well. He may have had his reasons, but I will not go into 
 that, Mrs. Lovegrove. I am all for giving everybody his 
 due. But Peachie felt when he left it would be better 
 the connection should cease as far as visiting went. 
 * Should Mr. Iglesias call here, dear Liz,' she said to me, 
 ' I should not refuse to see him. But, after what has 
 passed and situated as I am, I cannot be too careful. And 
 calling on a bachelor living privately, with whom your 
 name has been at all associated, must invite comment. 
 Throughout all,' she said, ' my conscience tells me I have 
 done my duty, and in that I must find my reward.' Very 
 affecting, was it not ? " 
 
 " Yes," the other lady admitted, candour and natural 
 goodness of heart getting the better alike of resentment 
 and diplomacy. " I always have maintained there were 
 many sterling qualities in Mrs. Porcher." 
 
 " So there are, the sweet pet ! " Eliza responded warmly.
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 - 
 
 "And I sometimes question, Mrs. Lovegrove, whether a 
 certain gentleman, now that he has cut himself adrift 
 from her, may not be beginning to find that out and wish 
 he had been less stand-offish and stony. Not that it would 
 be any use now. For, if he did not appreciate Peachie 
 Porcher, there are other and younger gentlemen, not a 
 thousand miles from here, who do. I am not at liberty to 
 speak more plainly at present, as the poor young fellow 
 is very shy about his secret. A long attachment, and 
 some might think it rather derogatory to Peachie's posi- 
 tion to entertain it. But straws tell which way the wind 
 blows ; and a little bird seems to twitter to me, Mrs. Love- 
 grove, that if Charlie Farge did come to the point 
 why- " 
 
 Miss Hart shook her leonine mane and laid her finger 
 on her lip in an arch and playful manner. But before 
 her hostess could rally sufficiently from the stupor into 
 which this announcement plunged her to make suitable 
 rejoinder, a fine booming clerical voice and large clerical 
 presence invaded the room. 
 
 " How d'ye do, Mrs. Lovegrove? I come unannounced 
 but not unsanctioned. I met with your good husband in 
 the street just now, and he encouraged me to look in on 
 you. Good-day to you, Miss Hart. All is well, I trust, 
 with our excellent friend Mrs. Porcher. Ah! and here is 
 Miss Serena Lovegrove. An unexpected piece of good 
 fortune." 
 
 Promptly Serena had emerged from her self-imposed 
 exile; and it was with an air of assured proprietorship 
 that she greeted the clergyman. 
 
 " Mrs. Nevington heard from your kind sister only this 
 morning," he continued. " Full of active helpfulness as 
 usual, Mrs. Lovegrove. She proposes that we should 
 quarter ourselves upon you and her for a few days, Miss 
 Serena, while we are seeking a temporary residence. She
 
 370 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 kindly gives us the names of several houses which she 
 considers worth inspection." 
 
 Here by an adroit flank movement, rapidly executed, 
 Serena managed to possess herself once again of the seat 
 of honour upon the sofa, thereby interposing a thin but 
 impenetrable barrier between her hostess and the latter's 
 own particular fetish, the bishop-designate. 
 
 " You have enough room ? I do not crowd you, 
 Rhoda?" she remarked parenthetically. Then turning 
 sideways, so as to present an expanse of neatly clad back 
 and shoulder to her outraged relative, she continued: 
 " I wonder which, Dr. Nevington I mean I wonder which 
 houses Susan has recommended. Of course there is the 
 Priory. But nobody has lived in it for ages and ages. 
 It is in a very low neighbourhood, close to the canal and 
 brickfields on the Tullingworth Road. I should think it 
 was dreadfully damp and unwholesome. And there is old 
 Mrs. Waghorn's in Abney Park. That is well situated 
 and the grounds are rather nice. But the reception-rooms 
 are poor, I always think. Susan was fond of Mrs. Wag- 
 horn. I cannot say I ever cared for her myself ; but there 
 is a tower to it, of course." 
 
 " Ah ! we hardly need towers yet, Miss Lovegrove. A 
 4 suffering bishop' you recall the well-worn joke? such 
 as myself, must not aspire to anything approaching castles 
 or palaces, but be content with a very modest place of 
 residence." 
 
 Here his unhappy hostess, sitting quite perilously near 
 the edge of the sofa, craned round the interposing barrier. 
 
 " But that is only a matter of time, Dr. Nevington," 
 she said, " surely. There is but one voice all round the 
 Green, and through the parish generally, that this is but 
 the first step for you ; and that it will lead on though I 
 am far from wishing to hasten the death of the present 
 archbishop to the primacy."
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 371 
 
 " Hardly that, hardly that," he rejoined with becoming 
 modesty. Yet the speech was not unpalatable to him. 
 " Out of the mouth of babes," he said to himself, leaning 
 back in his chair, and eyeing in imagination the chaste 
 outline of an episcopal apron and well-cut black gaiter, 
 while visions of Lambeth and Canterbury floated entic- 
 ingly before him. "Hardly that. This is little more 
 than an embryo bishopric. Still, though it is a wrench 
 to leave my dear old congregation, here in this wonderful 
 London of ours, I cannot refuse the call to a wider sphere 
 of usefulness. My views as a churchman are well known. 
 I have never, even though it might have been profession- 
 ally advantageous to me to do so, attempted any con- 
 cealment." 
 
 " No, truly," Rhoda put in, still balancing and cran- 
 ing. " Everyone, I am sure, must bear witness you have 
 always been most nobly outspoken." 
 
 " I trust so," he returned. " I have never disguised 
 the fact that I take my stand upon the Reformation Set- 
 tlement. Therefore I cannot but think it a most hopeful 
 sign of the times that I should receive this call to the 
 episcopate. Ah, here is Lovegrove. You find us deep in 
 matters ecclesiastical. I only hope I am not taxing your 
 ladies' patience too heavily by talking on such serious 
 subjects. In Slowby itself that grand old stalwart, the 
 late Dr. Colthurst a positively Cromwellian figure has 
 left a sound Protestant tradition. But I hear your good 
 sister confirms the rumour, Miss Serena that there is a 
 strong ritualistic party at Tullingworth. I shall deal 
 very roundly with persons of that persuasion. My con- 
 viction is that we must suit our teaching to the progressive 
 spirit of this modern world of ours. Personally I am will- 
 ing, if necessary, to sacrifice very much so-called dogma 
 to conciliate our worthy Nonconformist brethren ; while I 
 shall lose no opportunity of cutting at the roots of those
 
 372 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 Romanising tendencies which are so lamentably and insidi- 
 ously active in the very heart of our dear old National 
 Church." 
 
 While the great drum-like voice was thus rolling and 
 booming, George Lovegrove had shaken hands with 
 Serena. But there was none of the accustomed respectful 
 enthusiasm in his greeting. He wore a preoccupied and 
 dejected air. For once he looked upon that pearl of 
 spinsterhood with a lack-lustre and indifferent eye. 
 
 " I wonder what can have happened to George," the 
 lady in question said to herself, in high displeasure. "I 
 think his manner is really very odd nearly as odd as 
 Rhoda's. I wish I had not come. But then if I had not 
 come I should have had no opportunity of showing Rhoda 
 what intimate terms Susan and I are upon with the 
 Nevingtons. And I think it is right she should know. 
 Oh! that detestable Miss Hart is going. What a dread- 
 fully vulgar purple blouse she has on ! And her hair is so 
 unpleasant. It always looks damp and shows the marks 
 of the comb. I wonder why hair of that particular col- 
 our always does look damp." Here she bowed stiffly with- 
 out rising. " I shall simply ignore George, and not speak 
 to him. I think that will be sufficiently marked. But I 
 shall stay as long as Dr. Nevington does I don't for one 
 moment believe Miranda Samuelson really intended to send 
 the carriage so I will just wait and go when he goes. 
 I think I owe it to myself to show George and Rhoda that 
 they cannot drive me away against my will, however much 
 they may wish to do so." 
 
 Having come to which amiable decision Serena turned 
 her mind and conversation to questions of house-hunting 
 in Slowby. The subject, however, began to pall, before 
 long, upon her companion. Dr. Nevington changed his 
 position more than once. His replies became vague and 
 perfunctory, while his attention evidently strayed to
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 373 
 
 the conversation taking place at the other end of the 
 sofa. 
 
 " I fear you did not find Mr. Iglesias very bright then 
 to-day? " the wife was inquiring in her kindliest tones. 
 
 George Lovegrove shook his head sadly. " No, my 
 dear, I am sorry to say not. I have been rather broken 
 up. I will tell you all later." 
 
 The clergyman had risen. 
 
 " Iglesias ? ah yes," he said. " I remember meeting a 
 person of that name here once, eh, Lovegrove ? One of our 
 parochial oversights, unfortunately. He proved to be a 
 dweller. His appearance pleased me and I proposed to 
 call on him ; and then in the press of my many duties the 
 matter was forgotten." 
 
 Serena had risen likewise. A spot of colour burned on 
 either of her cheeks. Her eyes snapped. She carried her 
 small head high. Her presence asserted itself quite forci- 
 bly. Her skirts rustled. At that moment she was young 
 and very passably pretty an elegant spirited Serena of 
 eighteen, rather than a faded and, alas! spiteful Serena 
 of close upon fifty. 
 
 " Oh ! really, I think it was just as well you did not 
 call, Dr. Nevington," she cried. " I do not think it would 
 have been in the least suitable. Of course I may be wrong, 
 but I do not think you would have found anything to like 
 in Mr. Iglesias. There was so much that was never really 
 explained about him. You know you acknowledged that 
 yourself at one time, Rhoda. But now you and George 
 seem to have gone round again completely. One cannot 
 help knowing he associated with such very odd people; 
 and then the way in which he turned Roman Catholic, all 
 of a sudden, really was disgraceful." 
 
 Dr. Nevington's cold, watchful glance steadied on to 
 the speaker, then travelled to the two other members of the 
 little company in sharp inquiry. George Lovegrove's
 
 874 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 innocent countenance bore an expression of agonised en- 
 treaty, of yearning, of apology, yet of defiance. The 
 corners of Rhoda's mouth drooped, her large soft cheeks 
 shook; yet she stood firm, her sorrow tempered, and her 
 whole warm-hearted person rendered stubborn, by virtuous 
 indignation. 
 
 " You forget yourself greatly, Serena," she said, " and 
 when you have time to think it over will repent having 
 passed such cruel remarks. They are liable to create a 
 very wrong impression, and cannot fail to cause severe 
 pain to others." 
 
 For an appreciable space the clergyman hesitated. 
 But Slowby and the bishopric were ahead of him; Trim- 
 mer's Green and all its quaint unimportant little inhabi- 
 tants behind. She was tedious, no doubt; but her sister 
 promised to be very useful, so he threw in his lot with 
 Serena. 
 
 " Ah, well, ah, well, for my part I admire zeal, I must 
 confess, Mrs. Lovegrove," he said. " No doubt these 
 terrible lapses will occur. Superstition and bigotry will 
 claim their victims even in our enlightened century, and 
 this free England of ours. I would not judge the case 
 of this poor fellow, Iglesias, too harshly. Race influences 
 are strong; and we of the Anglo-Saxon stock, with our 
 enormous advantages of brain, and grit, and hard-headed 
 manliness of character, can afford deeply though we de- 
 plore their weakness and errors to be lenient toward the 
 less favoured foreigner. Our mission is to educate him. 
 And this I think you should not have forgotten, Love- 
 grove. You should have acted upon it. You should have 
 brought your unfortunate friend to me. I should have 
 been quite willing to give him half an hour, or even longer. 
 A few facts, a little plain speaking, might have saved him 
 from more than I quite care to contemplate, both here and 
 hereafter. However, good-bye to you, Mrs. Lovegrove.
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 375 
 
 You are starting, too, Miss Serena? Assure your good, 
 kind sister, when you write, how gladly Mrs. Nevington 
 and I shall avail ourselves of her proffered hospitality." 
 
 " Don't fret, don't take it too much to heart, Georgie 
 dear," the wife said soothingly later. "The vicar did 
 seem very stern, but that was owing to Serena. I am 
 afraid she's a terrible mischief-maker, is Serena. She 
 turns things inside out so in saying them, that you do not 
 recognise your own words again. All this afternoon she 
 was most trying. If Dr. Nevington heard the real story, 
 he would never blame you. You must not fret." 
 
 " I am not fretting about Dr. Nevington," he answered, 
 " but about Dominic. I am afraid we shall not have him 
 with us very much longer, Rhoda." 
 
 " Oh! dear, oh! dear, you don't mean it? Never!" she 
 cried in accents of genuine distress. "Did you see him, 
 Georgie ? " 
 
 " No, Miss St. John was there." 
 
 The wife's large cheeks shook again. 
 
 " You know," she said, " I am never very partial to 
 hearing anything about that Miss St. John. Actresses 
 are all very well in the theatre, I daresay, but they are 
 out of place in private houses. And from what I hear, 
 though there may be nothing really wrong with many of 
 them, they are all sadly free in their manners. I should 
 be very hurt if you got into the habit of frequenting their 
 society much, Georgie. But there, I'm sure I cannot tell 
 what is coming to all the women nowadays! You don't 
 seem as if you could be safe with any one of them. To 
 think of a middle-aged person like Mrs. Porcher, for 
 instance, taking up with that little snip of a Farge, and 
 she old enough to be his mother ! " 
 
 The wife bustled about the room straightening the 
 chairs, patting cushions into place, folding up the hand- 
 kerchief which, in the interests of human conversation,
 
 376 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 had been thrown over the cage of the all-too-articulate 
 parrot. 
 
 " I feel terribly stirred up somehow," she said, " what 
 with the vicar, and Serena, and all the talk about Roman 
 Catholics and Protestants, and Mrs. Porcher's engagement, 
 too, and then this bad news of Mr. Iglesias not but that 
 I am sure enough we shall meet him in heaven some day, 
 if we can ever contrive to get there ourselves in all this 
 chatter and worry " 
 
 She laid the handkerchief away in the drawer of the 
 work-table. 
 
 " Such an afternoon," she declared, " what with one 
 thing and another! I always do say there's nothing for 
 making unpleasantnesses like religion and marriages. 
 But, thank God, through all of it you are spared to me, 
 Georgie."
 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII 
 
 OUTSIDE, the slanting spring sunshine visited the sheltered 
 strip of garden in clear lights and transparent shadows. 
 The small grass-plat surrounding the rockery was brightly 
 green. In the stone basin the surface of the water 
 trembled, glistening in broken curves of silver white. 
 Along the narrow border, beneath the soot-stained eastern 
 wall, yellow and mauve crocuses and yellow aconites 
 opened wide, greeting the gentle warmth. Trees in the 
 neighbouring gardens were thick with bud. Busily the 
 sparrows and starlings came and went. 
 
 Within, the house though not uncheerful, thanks to a 
 scrupulous cleanliness, warm colourings, and the peculiar 
 mellowness which comes to rooms and furnishings that, 
 through prolonged association, have grown in a great 
 mutual friendliness of aspect was very still, with the 
 strange, almost eerie, stillness which seems to listen and to 
 wait. A singular stillness, from which the rough utili- 
 tarian activities of ordinary life are banished, the rude 
 noise of them suspended, while spiritual presences, rare 
 apprehensions, exquisite memories and hopes, mysterious 
 invitations of mingled alarm and ecstasy, come forth, tak- 
 ing on form and voice, passing lightly to and fro an 
 enchantment, yet in a manner fearful from the subtlety of 
 their being and piercing intimacy of their speech. Per- 
 sonality, that supreme moral and emotional factor in 
 human life, must of necessity create an atmosphere about 
 it, permeated with its individual tastes and mental attri- 
 butes, distinct and powerful in proportion to its indi- 
 vidual distinction and its strength. And, without being 
 overfanciful, it may be confidently asserted that, for some 
 
 377
 
 378 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 weeks now, ever since indeed the specialists summoned 
 in consultation at the good Lovegroves' and the Lady of 
 the Windswept Dust's urgent request had pronounced 
 the cardiac affection, from which Dominic Iglesias suf- 
 fered, likely to terminate fatally in the near future, this 
 living stillness, this alert tranquillity, had been more or 
 less sensible to all those who entered the house, offering 
 an arresting contrast to the multitudinous rush and 
 clamour of London without. But to-day the impression 
 was no longer an intermittent and fugitive one, as hereto- 
 fore. It was constant and complete, those spiritual visi- 
 tants being, as it would seem, in full possession ; so that 
 the hours appeared to move reluctantly, and as though 
 enjoining watchfulness, a carefulness and economy even in 
 prevailing repose, lest any remaining moment and the 
 message of it should be overlooked and lost. 
 
 It was characteristic of Iglesias that learning, in as far 
 as the consultant doctors could diagnose it, the exact con- 
 ditions of his physical state, he should refuse all experi- 
 ment, however humane in intention or plausible in theory. 
 For he had no sympathy with the modern greediness and 
 worship of physical life, which is willing to sacrifice the 
 decencies and dignities of it to its possible prolongation. 
 Courteously but plainly he bade his advisers depart. The 
 body, though an excellent servant, is a contemptible 
 master; and Iglesias proposed that, while his soul con- 
 tinued to inhabit it, it should, as always before, be kept 
 very much in its place. It must remain unobtrusive, obedi- 
 ent, not daring to usurp, in its present hour of failure and 
 impediment, an interest and consideration to which, in its 
 full usefulness and vigour, it had not presumed to aspire. 
 Therefore Dominic Iglesias held calmly on his way, seeing 
 the circle of his occupations, pleasures, and activities 
 dwindle and decrease, yet maintaining not only his serenity 
 of mind, but his accustomed self-respecting outward re-
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 379 
 
 fmemenl of bearing and habit. To meet death with a 
 gracious stoicism, well-dressed and standing upright, is, 
 rightly considered, a very fine art, reflecting much credit 
 upon the successful professor of it. 
 
 And it was thus that, on the day in question, Mr. Iglesias 
 sat waiting, in the quaint irregularly shaped drawing- 
 room of the old house in Holland Street, himself the centre 
 of that peopled stillness, that alert tranquillity, which so 
 strangely and sensibly filled it. Looking out of the low 
 window, he could see the shadow of the houses shrink and 
 the light broaden in the little garden below, as the sun 
 travelled westward. Looking into the room itself, the 
 many familiar objects and rich sober colours of it, quick- 
 ened by a flickering of fire-light, were pleasant to his sense. 
 The images which passed before him, whether actually 
 visible or not he hardly knew, appeared beautiful. Words 
 and phrases which occurred to him were beautiful likewise. 
 But all were seen and heard remotely, as through some 
 softly dazzling medium which, while heightening the charm 
 of them, produced a delicate confusion leaving him un- 
 certain whether he really slept or woke. More than once, 
 not without effort, he roused himself; but only to slip 
 back again into the same state of fair yet gently dis- 
 tracted vision. 
 
 At last the sound of opening casements in the dining- 
 room underneath and of a voice, touched with laughter, 
 reached him. 
 
 "There, you absurdities skip, scuttle, take exercise, 
 catch birds, improve your figures ! " Poppy cried, clapping 
 her hands encouragingly as she stood at the head of the 
 flight of iron steps down which, with her foot, she shot the 
 toy spaniels unceremoniously into the sunny garden 
 below. 
 
 The little creatures, welcoming their freedom, forgetful 
 for once of their languid overbred airs, scampered away
 
 380 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 yapping and skirmishing in the merriest fashion about the 
 grass-plat and flower-beds. The window closed again and 
 there followed a sound of voices, inter jectional on Poppy's 
 part, low and continuous on that of Mrs. Peters, the house- 
 keeper. Then a pause, so prolonged that Iglesias, who 
 had rallied all his energy and prepared to rise and to go 
 forward to meet his guest, sank away once more into half- 
 consciousness which neither actually sleeps nor wakes. 
 When he came fully to himself Poppy was sitting on the 
 low window-seat close beside him. Her back was to the 
 light and his sight was somewhat clouded, so that at first 
 he failed to see her clearly ; but he knew that her mood had 
 changed and her laughter departed, through the sympathy 
 of her touch, she holding his hand as it lay along the arm 
 of the chair. He would have spoken, but she stopped 
 him. 
 
 " No, dear man, don't hurry," she said. " I know al- 
 ready. Peters has just told me, now, downstairs, that you 
 received the Last Sacraments this morning. That's why 
 I didn't come up sooner. I couldn't see you directly, 
 somehow. I had well, I had to get my second wind, 
 dearly beloved, so to speak. You see it's such a heavenly 
 day that I couldn't help feeling happier about you. I 
 had persuaded myself those doctors were a pack of croak- 
 ing old grannies whose collective wisdom had eventuated in 
 a wild mistake, and that, given time and summer weather, 
 you would be better again you know you have had ups 
 and downs lots of times before and that then, when the 
 theatre closes and I have my holiday, I'd carry you off, 
 somewhere, anywhere, back to your own fierce, passionate 
 Spain, perhaps, and nurse and coax and care for you till 
 living grew so pretty a business you really wouldn't have 
 the conscience to quit." 
 
 Poppy's voice was sweet with caressing tones, sym- 
 pathetic in quality as her lingering touch.
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 381 
 
 " Haven't you, perhaps, been a little premature after 
 all ? " she said. " Has it really and truly come to that ? 
 Mightn't you have put off those last grim ceremonies a 
 trifle longer, and let them wait? " 
 
 " They are not grim, dearest friend, but full of strong 
 consolation," Iglesias answered, smiling. He began to see 
 her face more clearly. Her expression was tragic, a 
 world of anguish in it, for all the restraint of her manner 
 and playful glibness of her speech. " Nor, in any case," 
 he added, " can they hasten the event." 
 
 " I'm not altogether sure of that," Poppy declared 
 rebelliously. 
 
 " I could not quite trust myself as to what the day 
 might bring forth," Iglesias continued. " In point of 
 fact, I have gained strength as it has gone on. And so 
 it seemed wisest and most fitting to ask for the perform- 
 ance of those sacred rites while I was still of sound 
 mind, and ready in my perception of that in which I was 
 taking part." 
 
 " You have suffered? " Poppy said. 
 
 " Nothing unendurable. The nights are somewhat 
 wearisome, since I cannot lie down, in ordinary fashion, 
 to rest. But I sit here, or wander through the quiet, 
 kindly house, contentedly enough. And I am well cared 
 f or have no fear as to that. Peters is a faithful 
 creature. She nursed my mother at the last, and her 
 presence is grateful to me, for association's sake." 
 
 Iglesias straightened himself up. 
 
 " There, there," he said, " do not be too sad. The road 
 is not such a very hard one to tread. The last few months 
 have been the happiest I remember since my childhood. 
 Any anxieties I felt concerning you are set at rest. You 
 are famous, and will be more famous yet, and I know 1 
 shall live in your remembrance while you live. It is no 
 slight thing, after all, for a man to have been loved so well
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 by the two women whom he loved. And for the rest, dear- 
 est friend, as one draws near to the edge of the great 
 shadow, which we call death, one begins to trust more and 
 fuss less ; looking to the next step only, so that one may 
 take it neither with faltering nor with presumptuous 
 haste." 
 
 " Ah ! " Poppy cried, " that's all very well for you. 
 But where do I come in? I lose you." 
 
 Iglesias smiled, lifting his shoulders slightly and rais- 
 ing his hands. 
 
 " Yes," he said, " it seems that sorrow, here on earth, 
 is always, sooner or later, the guerdon of love. Why, I 
 know not; but so it is, as the most sacred and august of 
 all examples testifies. Only let us be thankful, you and I, 
 that to us this parting, and the inevitable pain of it, comes 
 while love is still in its full strength, having endured noth- 
 ing unworthy, no shame, or diminution, or disillusionment. 
 The more bitter the wrench, the finer the memory, and the 
 more desirable the meeting which lies ahead, however far 
 distant in time it may be and in difference of condition." 
 
 " Yes, dear man, yes, I dare say no doubt," Poppy 
 answered brokenly. " Only I can't rise to these philosophic 
 heights. I'm right here, don't you see, my feet well on 
 the floor, planted in brutal commonplace. I shall want 
 you just simply I shall want you, and you won't be there, 
 and I shall be most cut-throat horribly lonely and sad. 
 But, looking at you, still I don't believe it. I won't believe 
 it. I shall keep you a long while yet." 
 
 She leaned over and kissed him gently on the cheek. 
 
 " Now I must go," she said, " if I'm to get any dinner 
 before the theatre. I would have liked to stay, and put 
 my poor little understudy on, so as to give her a chance. 
 She's a nice little girl not half stupid, and really keen to 
 learn and to work. But I can't. I'm in honour bound to 
 appear to-night. You see, it's our second century the
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 383 
 
 <f. 
 
 first one we could not observe, because it came at the end 
 of January just in the general mourning so there's an 
 awful to-do and tomasha to-night, souvenir programmes 
 and I don't know what all, also a rather extra special 
 audience. It would be little too bad if I played them false. 
 But," she added, rising, "when it's over I shall come 
 back yes, I will, I will, I tell you. Don't flatter your- 
 self you can prevent me, beloved lunatic, for you jolly 
 well can't. I shall come back directly the performance 
 is over, and watch with you, through the bad hours till the 
 dawn." 
 
 Dominic Iglesias had risen, too. He crossed the room, 
 going to the door and holding it open for her ; then, stand- 
 ing on the little landing, he watched her as she went down 
 the narrow crooked stairs. And so doing, it came to him, 
 with a movement of thankfulness and of satisfied pride, 
 how very fully in the past six months the Lady of the 
 Windswept Dust had realised and fulfilled all the finer 
 promise of her complex nature. Just as her figure had 
 matured, retaining its admirable proportions and supple- 
 ness while gaining in distinction and dignity, her mind 
 had matured likewise. Her splendid fearlessness was no 
 longer that of naughty dare-devil audacity, but of secure 
 position and recognised success. Indeed, she had grown 
 into a somewhat imperial creature, for whom the world, 
 and rightly, is very willing to make place. 
 
 At the bottom of the flight Poppy paused, looking up 
 and kissing her hand. 
 
 " Till to-night," she cried. " Now I go to herd those 
 two small miseries, W. O. and Cappadocia. Take most 
 precious care of yourself until I come back, dear man. 
 Good-bye and God keep you, till to-night." 
 
 Mr. Iglesias crossed the drawing-room, glad at heart, 
 erect and stately as in the fulness of health. For a minute 
 or so he stood looking out into the garden, at the stone
 
 basin full to the lip in which the sparrows, relieved of 
 the presence of the toy spaniels, washed with much flutter- 
 ing of sooty wings and at the spring flowers, beginning 
 to close their delicate blossoms as the sun declined towards 
 its setting in the gold and grey of the west. In the re- 
 covered stillness, those same spiritual presences, rare ap- 
 prehensions, exquisite memories, mysterious invitations, 
 once again obtained possession, coming forth, passing 
 lightly to and fro, filling all the place. In aspect and 
 sentiment they were benign, all fearfulness having gone 
 from out them they telling of fair things only, of human 
 relations unbroken by treachery or self-seeking, unsullied 
 by lust ; telling, too, of godly endeavour faithfully to 
 travel the road which leads to the far horizon touched by 
 the illimitable glory of the Uncreated Light. 
 
 But presently Dominic Iglesias became aware that he 
 was very, very tired. He sat down in the chair again, 
 
 " Lord have mercy. Christ have mercy," he murmured, 
 crossing himself. " I think the day's work is over. I will 
 sleep." 
 
 That night Poppy St. John played as she had never 
 played before; and her audience, taking her astonishing 
 manifestation of talent as a compliment to themselves, 
 cried with her and laughed with her in most wholehearted 
 fashion. 
 
 Antony Hammond, in the stage box on the right, 
 turned to Adolphus Carr, his companion, saying: 
 
 "Did I really write such admirable drama as this? I 
 have girded at that term, * creating a part,' as an ex- 
 ample of the colossal vanity of the actor, and his very 
 inadequate reverence for his maker, the playwright. But, 
 I give you my word, after to-night I hide my diminished 
 head. The player and playing are greater than any 
 fondest conception of mine, when I put those words on 
 paper."
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 385 
 
 And Lionel Gordon, his habitual imperturbability alto- 
 gether broken up by excitement, stamped up and down 
 stammering : 
 
 " Ge-ge-henna, gehenna, what possesses the woman ? 
 I'd tour creation with her. She must be made to sign a 
 three years' contract. If she can act like this there's 
 nothing less than a cool half-million sterling in her." 
 
 And Alaric Barking, lean and haggard, invalided home 
 from South Africa, escaping for one evening from the 
 ministrations of gentle Lady Constance Decies and his 
 pretty fiancee, sat huddled together at the end of a row at 
 the back of the pit, hoping, " The deuce ! nobody would see 
 him," with a choke in his throat. He would love, honour, 
 and cherish his pretty, high-bred, innocent maiden; but 
 Poppy's voice tore at his very vitals. And he asked him- 
 self how had he ever borne to give her up, forgetting, as 
 is the habit of civilised man in such slightly humiliating 
 circumstances, that it was Poppy herself, not he, who loved 
 and rode away. 
 
 Twice the curtain was raised at the end of the per- 
 formance, and the Lady of the Windswept Dust made her 
 bow with the rest of the company. Now she could depart ; 
 thank heaven ! she could go back to the strangely still 
 house in Holland Street and fulfil her promise to Dominic 
 Iglesias to watch with him till dawn. All through the 
 play, the passion and excitement and pathos and mirth of 
 it, her anxiety had deepened, her yearning increased, so 
 that the joy of her public triumph was barred and seared 
 by intimate pain. Now she could go. Already the car- 
 penters were beginning their nightly work of destruction, 
 metamorphosing the so-lately brilliant stage into a vast 
 unsightly cavern of gaunt timbers, creaking pulleys, noisy 
 mechanical contrivances, gaudy painted surfaces of can- 
 vas and paper, piled-up properties, of uncertain lights 
 and draughts many and chill. Careless of all save that
 
 386 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 determination of going, Poppy moved away. But still 
 the unseen audience clamoured. A fury had taken it, a 
 madness such as will sometimes attack even the soberest 
 and most aristocratic crowd, excitement reacting upon it- 
 self and stimulating excitement, till the demand which had 
 begun in kindly enthusiasm became oddly violent, even 
 brutal, men and women standing up, applauding, drum- 
 ming, shouting a single name. 
 
 " There, it's over, thank the powers ! Now let me get 
 out of all this infernal din," she said, putting her hands 
 over her ears as she pushed into the wings. 
 
 But Lionel Gordon met her, barring her passage, his 
 face working with nervous agitation, and caught hold of 
 her unceremoniously by both arms. 
 
 " What's the matter ? " she cried angrily. " I can't 
 stay. I have a case of illness on hand." 
 
 " Hang illness ! " he answered. " My good girl, pull 
 yourself together. Go back. Don't be a blooming fool. 
 Listen it's you they're splitting their throats for yes, 
 you about the most fastidious audience in Europe yell- 
 ing like a pack of drunken bookies ! Gehenna ! you're the 
 luckiest woman living. You're made, great heavens, 
 you're made ! " 
 
 He dragged her aside, pushing her into the mouth of 
 the narrow passage between the curtain and the foot- 
 lights, where the roar of the house and the welter of faces 
 met her like a breaking wave. 
 
 Standing against the edge of the pavement in front of 
 Mr. Iglesias' house, in Holland Street, was a covered van. 
 As Poppy drove up a couple of men came down the steps,, 
 in the black and white of the moonlight. Their dark 
 clothing and somewhat sleek appearance were repulsive 
 to her. She swept past them, swept past Frederick hold- 
 ing open the door, and on up the stairs. Her hands were
 
 THE FAR HORIZON 387 
 
 encumbered by her trailing draperies of velvet and silver 
 tissue, and by an extravagant bouquet of orchids, lilies, 
 and roses, with long yellow satin streamers to it. She had 
 not stayed even to clean the grease-paint off her face. 
 Just as she was, the stamp of her calling upon her, eager, 
 fictitious, courageous, triumphant, pushed by a great fear, 
 she came. But in the doorway she faltered, set her teeth, 
 bowed her head, and paused. 
 
 For in the centre of the room a bier was dressed, and on 
 either side of it stood lighted tapers of brownish wax, in 
 tall black and gold candlesticks. At the foot, some dis- 
 tance apart, two low-seated rush-bottomed high-backed 
 prie-dleux had been placed. Upon the one on the left a 
 little nun knelt, her loose black habit concealing all the 
 outline of her figure. The white linen pall was turned 
 back, across the chest of the corpse, to where the shapely 
 long-fingered hands were folded upon an ebony and silver 
 crucifix. By some harsh irony of imagination Lionel 
 Gordon's voice rang in Poppy's ears : " My good girl, pull 
 yourself together. Gehenna! you're the luckiest woman 
 living. You're made, great heavens, you're made ! " 
 while, blank despair in her heart, she went forward, the 
 little nun looking up momentarily from her prayers, and 
 stood beside the bier. Beautiful in death as in life, serene, 
 proud, austere, but young now with the eternal youth of 
 those who have believed, and attained, and reached the 
 Land of the Far Horizon, Dominic Iglesias lay before her. 
 
 Presently a sound of sobbing broke up the stillness, and 
 turning, Poppy descried good George Lovegrove, sitting 
 in the dusky far corner of the room, his knees wide apart, 
 his shiny forehead showing high above the handkerchief 
 he pressed against his eyes. She backed away from the 
 corpse, as in all reverence from the presence of a person- 
 age august and sacred. Coming close to him, she laid her 
 hand gently upon George Lovegrove's shoulder.
 
 388 THE FAR HORIZON 
 
 " Go home, my best beetle," she said, very tenderly. 
 " You're worn out with sorrow. Come back in the morn- 
 ing if you will. I promised Dominic I would watch with 
 him till the dawn. I keep my promise." 
 
 Then the Lady of the Windswept Dust laid her extrav- 
 agant bouquet with its yellow streamers, on the floor, at 
 the foot of the bier; and kneeling upon the vacant prie- 
 dieu, beside the little nun, buried her painted face in her 
 hands and wept.
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIB 
 
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 BOOK STORE 
 LIMA. OHIO. 
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 aiJ Paper.