A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
A BIT OF 
 
 A FOOL 
 
 BY 
 
 SIR ROBERT PEKL, Bart. 
 
 
 NEW YORK 
 R. F. FENNO & COMPANY 
 
 J 12 -Pll^n AV^NUIE^ 
 
Copyright, 1897 
 
 BY 
 
 R. F. FENNO & COMPANY 
 
 '4 
 

 OF THK X [y yi 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 I WAS at school at Winchester and fourteen 
 years old when my mother died. At that age 
 I had not any deeper feelings than the average 
 boy, and I know that when the first grief, which 
 is one of the simplest of human emotions, had 
 passed away, I felt a certain sense — I will not 
 say of relief, but of a removal of constraint, of 
 greater freedom. I had no great compunction 
 about annoying my father. When I did any of 
 the usual evil things that boys do, he would get 
 angry, and I, in consequence, defiant. He was 
 a man, and it always seemed a fair stand-up 
 fight. But with my mother it was different. 
 My wrong-doings provoked no hardness from 
 
6 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 her, but rather a tenderness. They caused her 
 sorrow, and I could see it, so that with the mo- 
 mentary susceptibiUty of youth, I regretted what 
 I had done, and endeavoured in future to avoid 
 causing her pain. This shows that I was al- 
 ways sensitive in the matter of women. 
 
 After my mother's death the only feminine 
 influence remaining, which touched me directly, 
 was my sister's : she was fifteen months younger 
 than I, and as she was my only sister, and I 
 her only brother, we were close companions. 
 But at the time of which I speak she was not 
 of an age to take seriously the follies of an ad- 
 mired brother, but rather to see in them 
 evidences of the superiority of sex, making her 
 regret that she was a woman. It took a few 
 more years yet to make her realize her ad- 
 vantage in this respect.' 
 
 Winifred had a governess : a very good- 
 looking lady, about twenty-three, as I judge, 
 with a pale, calm face, grey eyes, and fine 
 fluffy hair, blonde-cendree, was Miss Tennant. 
 A very proper, unimpassi.oned person, with 
 irreproachable manners. At legist, ihdX was 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 7 
 
 her apparent character — but, although during 
 the hoHdays I saw much of her, I was never 
 quite able to make up my mind about her. 
 There was something behind her habitual 
 restraint which I was unable to decipher. 
 Every one of my mother's friends had nothing 
 but praise to say of her, and she was re- 
 garded as a perfect model of propriety. Wini- 
 fred was the only one who did not quite admire 
 her. 
 
 " What is it you don't like in Miss Tennant, 
 Winnie?" I asked one day. 
 
 " I don't know, " my sister replied, " but 
 sometimes she looks at me. " 
 
 'T don't see much harm in that. " 
 
 " Pr'aps not, "—she shuddered a little—" but 
 its a funny look, and then suddenly she kisses 
 me on the mouth, and makes me feel — ugh! " 
 She shook her head and drew in her chin as she 
 said this. 
 
 "I shouldn't mind that." 
 
 As a matter of fact, although I didn't tell 
 Winifred, it was just what Miss Tennant did 
 to me, when we were alone, as sometimes hap- 
 
 n 
 
8 A BIT OF A FOOi: 
 
 pened. As a boy, I did not care about being 
 kissed by women ; I liked to kiss a girl for fun, 
 but to be kissed by a grown-up woman an- 
 noyed me. I thought it derogatory to my 
 years. But most women kissed me on the 
 cheek or forehead. Miss Tennant was different; 
 she kissed me full on the mouth, and made a 
 kind of a shiver go through me. I think I 
 liked it; I know I never resisted. I don't think 
 I had the power. 
 
 After the death of my mother Miss Tennant's 
 manner changed. She never kissed me again, 
 and began to assume an air of authority over 
 me. Winifred found it the same. I now think 
 it probable that she was forming the design of 
 becoming the second Mrs. Manners. 
 
 But my father was not the man to marry 
 again in a hurry, and if he had some thought 
 of doing so, it would not have been Miss Ten- 
 nant that he would have chosen. He was a 
 busy, careful, austere, religious, unimpassioned 
 man, with an enormous sense of family pride 
 and social position. He had some good reason 
 to be proud of his relationships by blood and 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 9 
 
 marriage, for our family Table of Affinities 
 scarcely included a name which was not to be 
 found in Debret, and had he chosen a second 
 wife, she would have been selected, I am sure, 
 from some family having a name to which no 
 reasonably near relationship with us could be 
 traced. I think it was one of his ambitions to 
 form an alliance with the entire aristocracy of 
 England, and if he had had enough children he 
 might have done so, for he was rich, and being 
 also a careful man — careful almost to meanness 
 in his household — he was continually adding to 
 his fortune. 
 
 I knew we were rich because people said so, 
 and on occasions a fine display of profusion 
 was made at home when some important 
 function took place. But as a rule this was not 
 the case, and we lived most simply. Of course 
 there was enough of everything, but it rep- 
 resented an income of from two to three 
 thousand a year rather than one of from twenty 
 to thirty thousand, and I know that I was very 
 much limited in the matter of pocket-money. 
 
 "You have everything that is necessary and 
 
10 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 becoming your position, " my father used to say 
 when I wanted something more than usual ; 
 and the only way of getting it was through my 
 mother, who gave it to me out of her own 
 pocket. But after her death I had no one to 
 turn to, and was often greatly chagrined to find 
 myself unable to gratify the small extravagances 
 that are possible at school, and that other boys, 
 with fathers not so rich, but more generous, 
 were able to afford. My cousin Percy Manners 
 Wynne, to give him his full name, who was also 
 at Winchester, had the knack of causing me 
 almost unbearable mortification by his remarks. 
 He knew all about us, as he was very intimate. 
 He was the son of my father's sister who un- 
 fortunately had married none too well, from the 
 point of view of fortune, and was the next heir 
 after myself to the entailed property. He 
 passed for being a very good boy, and was a 
 great favourite with my father, who paid for 
 his education at Winchester in order to relieve 
 my aunt, who was left a widow, of that burden. 
 I suppose Percy was a good boy. I never re- 
 member him doing anything wrong himself, but, 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL ii 
 
 unintentionally or not, he had a way of making 
 suggestions of a very mischievous nature to 
 others. But of course, as he said, he was not to 
 blame if other fellows were stupid enough to 
 follow suggestions which were never meant to 
 be taken seriously. 
 
 "Why don't you get so-and-so, Horace?" he 
 would say. 
 
 " Why don't you ? " I would reply evasively. 
 
 " That's different : I can't afford it, you know; 
 my mother is so badly off. But you can. " 
 
 " No, I can't : I haven't got the money." 
 
 " O nonsense ! your governor will buy it for 
 you if you ask." 
 
 " I don't think he will." I did not think : I 
 knew. And Percy knew too. 
 
 "Why not? He's so rich." 
 
 " It's no good my asking. He refused me the 
 last time, " I say with annoyance. 
 
 " Shall I ask him for you ? " asks Percy 
 sweetly. 
 
 " What's the good of that ? " I reply, rather 
 sharply, for I feel that it is quite possible that 
 my father would give way to Percy, and am 
 
 f UNIVERSITx: 
 
12 A BIX OE A FOOL 
 
 consequently angry. 
 
 " Oh, all right, but lots of other chaps have 
 one, and I didn't think you'd like to go without. 
 I can't help myself. There's Wilkinson, " — 
 seeing another fellow passing — " I say Wilkin- 
 son, where did you get your — ?" (whatever it 
 was). 
 
 " At old Smith's in the town." 
 
 " How much did it cost ? " 
 
 " I'm not quite sure," Wilkinson says. " I 
 didn't pay for it. Smith let me have it on tick, 
 and I shall try to get the mater to stand it." 
 
 '" Oh ! " Percy says, and then turning to me, 
 "You see, Wilkinson's mother is rich, and 
 Smith knows that. But of course you musn't 
 do that, Horace, without getting the governor's 
 approval. It wouldn't do. But it does seem 
 a pity." 
 
 The natural consequence of this is that I 
 promptly go to Smith's and get it for credit, 
 and in the end of course the bill is sent in to my 
 father, and there is a row, and Percy, with re- 
 luctance and only under strong pressure, admits 
 that he advised me not to do it, although we 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 13 
 
 did discuss the question of how much we should 
 have Hked to have had one had we been able to 
 afford it. And then after rating me severely, 
 my father gives one — a better one — to Percy. 
 
 This is only an example of what occurred 
 somewhat frequently. I didn't like it, and I felt 
 somehow that Percy had bested me — although I 
 had to admit candidly that there was nothing 
 m his conduct to which I could take exception, 
 and in those occasional moments of honest 
 self-criticism, which come even to boys, I was 
 forced to confess that my cousin had only ob- 
 tained the reward of virtue. 
 
 There is only one other incident in my school- 
 life which I need recount, as it led to the serious 
 consequence of my leaving school, and being 
 sent for the year before going up to Oxford to 
 a private tutor. 
 
 I have said that I was always susceptible to 
 the influence of women, and, unlike many boys, 
 I was fond of girls. 
 
 In going about the town we met, naturally, 
 many girls in the streets. But there was one 
 that I was led to notice particularly, partly be- 
 
14 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 cause I saw her often, and partly because there 
 was something about her that attracted me. 
 She was a very pretty dark girl about sixteen 
 — I was seventeen then — very demure, quiet, 
 and neatly dressed, the daughter of a small 
 tradesman. I first noticed that she looked up 
 shyly from under her eye-lashes when I passed, 
 and this led me first to stare at her, and then 
 to smile in silent recognition when we passed, 
 which was answered on her part by a blushing 
 smile, a hanging of the head, and a quickening 
 step. She really looked so simple, and so 
 modest, yet so pretty, that, although I looked 
 forward to the encounter, which made my heart 
 beat more quickly and my skin to be affected 
 by a creeping, tingling sensation, I should 
 never have dreamed of seeking to become closer 
 acquainted. 
 
 At that time I had a passion for a special kind 
 of gingerbread made by an old woman who kept 
 a small shop, and I went there for my favourite 
 delicacy nearly every day. 
 
 One day, to my surprise, the old lady gave 
 me a letter and asked if I thought it was meant 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 15 
 
 for me. The envelope was addressed : — 
 
 " For the nice, good-looking, fair boy who 
 comes to buy gingerbread." 
 
 I said that it was very likely, and put the 
 letter in my pocket with an inward trembling, 
 and then bought twice the quantity of sweet- 
 meat from the old woman. 
 
 Outside I quickly opened the letter, and, with 
 a surging through my veins, read — 
 
 " I love you. I am the dark girl you smile 
 at. I know you so well that I must speak to 
 you. Can you meet me to-night at half-past 
 
 seven at 
 
 " Your loving Nki.i.ie5 SawyBR. 
 
 "P. S. — I want to kiss you. I dream of you 
 every night, xxxxxxxxx x." 
 
 Of course I knew what the crosses meant. 
 This letter set my mind on fire, and I deter- 
 mined to carry out the meeting at all risks. 
 The place chosen was a quiet spot at the further 
 end of the town. As I was in the sixth form 
 I was not expected to put in an appearance in 
 the class-room in the evening, but I was sup- 
 posed to be preparing work for the next day in 
 
i6 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 my study. To get out of the school was not a 
 difficult matter: there was a well-known way, 
 well known to the boys. 
 
 It was necessary to have someone to cover 
 my absence in case of accidents, and I decided 
 that I would confide in my cousin Wynne. He 
 advised me not to go, but, seeing I was de- 
 termined, promised to do what was necessary 
 in the way of accounting for my absence if re- 
 quired. 
 
 So I went. I found that my inamorata, 
 Nellie Sawyer, however demure she might look 
 in the street in public, was by no means so shy 
 when by herself in a quiet spot, and the inter- 
 view fully came up to my expectations, and 
 more. 
 
 I got back into school safely without being 
 discovered, and, emboldened by this success I 
 planned and carried out several other meet- 
 ings. 
 
 But the affair ended abruptly. One day I 
 was sent for by my house-master, and by him 
 conducted to the head-master. There I found 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 17 
 
 also a man who proved to be Sawyer, the girl's 
 father. 
 
 I need say little more. I was punished pri- 
 vately in the usual way, and at the end of the 
 term I left school. No one else in the school 
 knew anything about it. My father was so 
 angry with me that he declined to have me 
 home for the holidays, and I spent a much 
 jollier time with some relations, the only thing 
 I missed being my sister Winnie, who thought 
 the whole matter great fun, though she did not 
 dare to say anything. 
 
 I was never able to discover how this affair 
 was found out, or who it was told the girl's 
 father. Percy declared that he had said noth- 
 ing, and indeed it appeared from what was said 
 that it was Sawyer who first came to the head- 
 master about it. I supposed that someone of 
 her family had seen us together. And yet it 
 was a mystery how her father should have 
 known my name, as he did, for I had never told 
 my surname to Nelly, and there were two other 
 Horaces at the school. 
 
CHAPTER ir. 
 
 ShortIvY after this I was sent to a private 
 tutor to prepare for the University. I was ac- 
 counted a clever boy at school, and, however 
 that may be, I know that I had no difficulty in 
 keepings abreast of the fellows of my own age 
 with the smallest trouble to myself. I should 
 probably have found it easy to matriculate and 
 pass "smalls" with the education I then had. 
 But my father was a brilliant man, having 
 taken every possible honour and prize at the 
 University, and my mother was a highly intel- 
 lectual woman, although she had no certificates 
 to show for it, as Girton and its like were not in 
 existence in her day. It was therefore taken for 
 granted that I also was to have a brilliant intel- 
 lectual career, and the idea of simply taking my 
 degree never entered my father's head. I was 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 19 
 
 to take a scholarship in the first place, and after 
 that to take as many honours as possible with 
 added trifles such as the "Craven" ; and even the 
 "Newdigate" was designed for me, as my 
 mother was a poetess — privately published — of 
 the Mrs. Browning-Hemans order, religio-in- 
 tellectual. 
 
 The private tutor, vulgarly and far more cor- 
 rectly called a " Crammer," had an establish- 
 ment a little way out west of London. My 
 father had exercised considerable care in the 
 selection, and striking a balance between suc- 
 cessful results and fatherly supervision, had 
 selected Mr. Jones, D.C.L. (Duthie), M.A., 
 B.Sc. (Lond.), from a long list of others whose 
 prospectuses were so much alike in unvarying 
 success and care of the pupils' morals as to 
 make the final choice a matter of difficulty. 
 
 This choice was somewhat influenced by a 
 certain incident. I knew a fellow named 
 Scovell whose people were neighbours of ours, 
 They were very well off, and the family, al- 
 though not at present aristocratic, was old and 
 honourable. My father, therefore, had no 
 
 i' 
 
20 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 objection to our acquaintance. Scovell was 
 one of the most charming, light-hearted fellows 
 I ever met: he uttered and honestly believed 
 the most airy paradoxes as regards life. It is 
 something to say that he lived up to his 
 opinions. Perhaps that is hardly the way it 
 should be put, as it implies an effort to conform 
 to a moral code. It was not so with him : he 
 lived his natural life, and his curious ethical 
 perversions were the result of his peculiar con- 
 ception of things. The closest comparison I 
 can make is that of language and grammar. 
 Language is not formed on grammar, but gram- 
 mar deduced from language. So it was with 
 Egbert Scovell. Had he lived in an ancient 
 day he would have been an Epicurean. But 
 the adjective is now dead or misused. 
 
 Scovell was certainly "sweet" on Winifred, 
 and she on him. Had my father perceived this, 
 he would surely have put a stop to it, as he had 
 other designs for her. 
 
 I told Scovell so once. 
 
 "Then we must seriously fall in love," he 
 said. " If your governor had any sense he 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 21 
 
 would encourage it, and we should get sick of 
 each other in the end. But meanwhile it 
 would be much better fun all round. He ought 
 to know that no self-respecting girl would 
 stifle her first love by marrying it. Besides, if 
 I were going to marry your sister, I couldn't 
 afford to be so friendly with you. It is safer to 
 marry someone you don't know anything 
 about." 
 
 Scovell was at Jones's cramming for the 
 University also. He, my cousin Wynne, and I 
 were talking about it one day. 
 
 " Jones' is all right," Scovell said. " No fel- 
 low need do a stroke of work unless he pleases, 
 and as for supervision, there isn't any. That's 
 how Crammers are so successful. No chap 
 who isn't encased in the two tables of stone and 
 a perfect glutton for work ever goes up for ex- 
 amination. The rest are ' not yet advanced 
 enough' for so long that their parents take 
 them away, as they pass the age limit." 
 
 And because, I suppose, he saw I should like 
 to know a nice fellow like Scovell when I got 
 there, my cousin told my father that he had 
 
22 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 heard Jones' very well spoken of. I sincerely 
 believe that settled the decision. 
 
 I found Jones to have all the merits that 
 Scovell assigned. I shall not trouble to describe 
 my life there. I can only say that I have tried 
 to imagine a* worse place to which to send a 
 boy of seventeen, but have failed. A re- 
 formatory school does not meet the case. There 
 was no need to do anything unless one chose. 
 If one did not voluntarily " sweat," the tutors 
 at once perceived that the case was hopeless 
 and took no further trouble. The supervision 
 was stated to be both religious and moral. A 
 guinea a year was charged for a seat in church. 
 At eleven o'clock on Sunday morning Jones 
 himself perambulated once through the great 
 rambling old house in which we lived, and ob- 
 serving no one in the rooms, was satisfied that 
 we w^ere attending our spiritual devotions. He 
 did not look under the beds or tables, nor ap- 
 parently notice that a noisy procession of boys 
 was preceding him up the front stairs down the 
 back stairs, and up the front stairs agam as he 
 slowly went his round, and at the end he went 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL ^ 
 
 back to his own quarters, not to appear again 
 till dinner time. 
 
 On the moral side, the facts which lead me to 
 say that supervision did not exist are hardly- 
 such as one can relate. But one safeguard 
 existed. Pupils were permitted to be away 
 from Saturday till Monday morning if invited 
 by relations. So ran the prospectus. I soon 
 discovered that the invitation was not required 
 to be a written one to be produced to the 
 principal — (Mr. Jones was the principal) — and 
 that the rule was satisfied by the mere state- 
 ment that one was gong to stay with one's 
 aunt. All the fellows had aunts who lived 
 mostly in the S.W. district of London. 
 
 It became apparent, however, that even the 
 statement was not required. It was taken for 
 granted that if we were not in the house on 
 Sunday morning, we had received the usual 
 invitation. 
 
 Our potential viciousness was only limited 
 by our means : and my own means at this time 
 made the limit a narrow one. Ever since the 
 episode at school my father had placed the 
 
24 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 strictest bounds to my allowance for pocket- 
 money, with the laudable intention of hamper- 
 ing my progress along the primrose path. If 
 the primrose path invites, it is best that it 
 should lie in flat and easy country: the scenery 
 will probably become monotonous. But let it 
 lie in difficult and broken ground, and there is 
 no trouble a young man of spirit will not take 
 to trace it to its end. This is my case. It 
 was made difficult for me and therefore 
 alluring. 
 
 Moreover, I chafed under the sense that 
 many of my companions, whose families were 
 far less wealthy than mine, were able to take 
 the road easily, and I determined, when my 
 chance should come, to take it headlong. 
 
 Scovell lent me money at times under the 
 distinct understanding that I should repay him 
 .as soon as I could. At first he scorned 
 the idea. 
 
 " My dear Manners," he said, " I have much 
 more fun with you than without. Why should 
 I expect you to pay for my pleasure ?" 
 
 However, he gave way in the end — I was 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 25 
 
 Arm on the point, and we did what we pleased 
 within what we could; so we became the 
 closest friends. 
 
 As I had been at Winchester, it was 
 assumed as a matter of course that I should 
 go to New College. Scovell was going to 
 Christ Church. I therefore begged, and 
 finally obtained the consent of my father, that 
 I should be allowed to go up for a Junior 
 Studentship at Christ Church, instead of a 
 scholarship at New College. My cousin, who 
 had just then obtained a Wykhamist Scholar- 
 ship from the school, was, I believe, instru- 
 mental again in helping this decision. He 
 represented that as I was not going up direct 
 from Winchester, it would probably be better 
 that another College should be selected, and, 
 if another, none could be better than " The 
 House." 
 
 In due time I went up, and failed. Not by 
 many places, but still failed. However, the 
 College was willing to matriculate me on my 
 examination, and as there were several in- 
 college scholarships to be obtained, my dis- 
 
26 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 appointed sire was prevailed upon to let me 
 enter the College and make an effort to obtain 
 one of these, which Mr. Jones, who was no 
 doubt sick of me, thought I should do easily. 
 
 Scovell had meanwhile matriculated. He 
 did not aspire to scholarship honours. 
 
 " A scholarship," he said, " is not a test of 
 the pupil, but of the coach." 
 
 I passed " smalls" and tried for one scholar- 
 ship and failed. I then went under a famous 
 university tutor to prepare for another. I was 
 really obliged to do some work this time, and 
 to my intense surprise I succeeded. 
 
 Success brings a wonderful sense of self- 
 gratulation. I patted myself on the back, and 
 felt proud. When I told Scovell, he said, 
 " What did I tell you ? " which was not 
 flattering to me, though quite sincere on his 
 part. And really it seemed that he was justified. 
 
 Jones, who had nothing to do with the 
 matter, published my name as one of his 
 successes in his next prospectus. 
 
 On first going up to Oxford, my father had 
 allowed me £500 a year, which I found quite 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 2% 
 
 inadequate. By the time I had joined a Wine 
 Club or two, and been elected to the Bulling- 
 don Club, I discovered that if I did not wish to 
 be entirely outstripped for pace by the other 
 members, I should have to discover some 
 means of making the sum go several times its 
 own distance. 
 
 My cousin Wynne, now at New College, 
 came to see me, and I confided my difficulties 
 to him. 
 
 " Let me see," he said; "you say that if you 
 cut a respectable figure with the Bullingdon 
 room, that alone \till cover your £500, and my 
 uncle expects that to do for everything — fees, 
 battels, wines, cigars, and dress. Well, the 
 only thing is to drop the Bullingdon." 
 
 " I can't do that, you know, Percy." 
 
 " It's awkward, but I don't see what else. 
 Of course I know that many men don't pay 
 their battels, and go on credit for all their 
 other things. Bu^ you mustn't do that, 
 Horace. The College would send in their bill 
 to your father, and then he'd have to pay it, 
 or you would be sent down. You mustn't 
 
28 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 think of that. As for the tradesmen, they 
 wouldn't trouble you till you took your degree, 
 but it's a frightfully bad thing to run into debt 
 with them, as they charge you ruinous prices 
 for everything, and you can't get rid of them. 
 For goodness' sake don't run any risk of that 
 sort. All I can say is," he added with a 
 hopeless shake of the head, " drop the Bull- 
 ingdon." 
 
 Wynne's admonition had suggested possi- 
 bilities to me, but before trying them I thought 
 to consult Scovell. 
 
 " As for debts," he said airily, " no careful 
 man would be without them. The truest 
 economy is to get credit for everything. Just 
 think of the pull you have over others 
 when the end comes ! So much more goods 
 for so much less outlay. In fact, you have 
 cheapened your market. And I once heard of 
 a man who made an immense fortune by 
 getting his first stock on credit when he hadn't 
 a penny." 
 
 This light-hearted, cynical philosophy had a 
 curious effect on me. Although I laughed 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 29 
 
 at it, I began to take it seriously, and I deter- 
 mined to take the plunge. 
 
 The tradesmen were most obliging, but I 
 discovered that they were inclined to place a 
 limit on my orders. They did not say so — 
 University tradesmen are far too clever for that; 
 but I saw that they knew pretty well the 
 amount of my resources and expectations. 
 
 So also with my fellow members of the Bull- 
 ingdon. They were as nice as could be to me. 
 But I felt instinctively that I was kept down 
 to a certain position. 
 
 When I obtained my scholarship, my father 
 in his delight — for he was beginning to despair 
 of me — doubled my allowance. 
 
 "It is more profitable to be thought a fool 
 than to be considered a genius," observed phil- 
 osopher Scovell on hearing of it. 
 
 I immediately discovered that I had gone up 
 some rungs on the Bullingdon ladder, that I 
 had doubled the number of my friends and 
 acquaintances, and that the honest traders 
 were willing to allow me just twice the amount 
 of credit. 
 
30 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 How this happened I did not know. No 
 one except Scovell and Wynne knew anything 
 of my private affairs. 
 
 So within my first year I began to taste some 
 of the pleasures of living, and the taste made 
 me long for a full feed : but that my limited 
 means denied me for the present. 
 
CHAPTER HI. 
 
 At the end of the Lent term I went to stay 
 with Scovell's people at their London house. 
 
 Colonel Scovell was a pleasant-faced, easy- 
 tempered man who had completed his army 
 service in India, and had come home to 
 England to pass the rest of his life smiling. He 
 meant to take things easily, and quite succeeded 
 in his endeavour. His virtues, and his vices if 
 he had any, were entirely negative. It was 
 / difficult to say what the Colonel was, his 
 description was necessarily what he was not. 
 He was not a politician, and considered the 
 Parliament and all its ways an unmitigated bore. 
 He declined to stand as a candidate, and never 
 took the trouble to go to the poll. He was not 
 a philanthropist, and had no desire to do good 
 or harm to men in general or to any set of men 
 
32 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 in particular. He was not religious, held mis- 
 sions in contempt, and declined to distinguish 
 between the merits of creeds and sects. He 
 was not a financier, was no company's guinea- 
 pig, and held no opinion on bimetallism. He 
 was not a sportsman, in the trade sense of the 
 word, and was only once known to have in- 
 quired the name of the winner of the Derby 
 one autumn day, and then could not say why 
 he had asked. He was not fond of society, but, 
 as became a gentleman of good family, was 
 not a recluse, and took matters as they came, 
 neither seeking nor avoiding. 
 
 Altogether, then, he was a happy man, happy 
 by the avoidance of any of the cares that men 
 in a like position seem voluntarily to assume 
 and continually to grumble at. 
 
 Colonel Scovell regarded his son in the light 
 of a curious accident in his life, which had 
 happened he did not know how, but which 
 having happened was to be taken as easily as 
 possible. 
 
 Mrs. Scovell was the apt companion for her 
 husband, a good-looking, placid, sweet-tempered 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 33 
 
 woman, whose pleasant object in life was to pet 
 her husband and adore her son. 
 
 It was not difficult to account now for the 
 wonderful uniformity of temper and Hght- 
 hearted philosophy of my friend; indeed he was 
 one of the luckiest men in the world, had he 
 known it. 
 
 This family behaved towards one another as 
 babes in Arcadia, and no sense of the due 
 relationships of the three existed among them. 
 Perfect equality prevailed, and the usual titles 
 were dropped in conversation. 
 
 " We've had an invitation from Mrs. St. 
 John-Elliot to go down to their place at 
 Barnes, for the Boat-race. Do both or either 
 of you care to come ? " George Scovell was 
 addressing his father and mother. 
 
 " Boat-race ? " said the Colonel. " Ah ! yes, 
 between Oxford and Cambridge, to be sure. I 
 didn't know it took place at this time. They 
 have one every year, don't they ? " 
 
 " Yes, on an average.'' 
 
 " No-o, thanks. You see I'm not interested 
 in the winner. You are, I suppose. St. 
 
34 A BIT OF A FOOD 
 
 John-Elliot's, did you say ? Ah ! yes, parlia- 
 mentary fellow, I believe; Whig or Tory, or 
 something of the sort. No-o, thanks." And 
 the Colonel crushed another Bombay duck over 
 his curried egg. 
 
 " You, dear ? " George said, turning to his 
 mother. 
 
 " I don't think I care about going to see it. 
 But I'll tell Watson to put some blue — yes, of 
 course, dark blue bows on the horses this 
 morning. I hope you will win. It seems too 
 foolish to support the wrong side. But, of 
 course, you will." 
 
 I believe the dear woman believed that 
 George's presence would materially influence 
 the result. 
 
 " Are you rowing ? " said the Colonel to me, 
 evidently thinking it polite to appear to take 
 some interest. I had been staying at their 
 house for a week, smoking, eating unwholesome 
 delicacies , and sitting up very late. But I 
 contented myself by saying, "No — not this 
 time." 
 
 After breakfast Scovell and I started. We 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL . 35 
 
 had to call at my aunf s to pick up Winifred, 
 who was staying there. My father never came 
 to London before May. 
 
 On the way Scovell said, " I wonder what 
 youll think of Mrs. St. John-ElHot ? " 
 
 "Why ? '^ 
 
 " Oh, I don't know." And he said no 
 more. 
 
 In due course we arrived at Barnes. 
 
 It was a big house with fine grounds, stand- 
 ing a little distance from the river. 
 
 On entering we found a large company 
 chatting in groups in the various rooms, or 
 /wandering in pairs in the gardens. It needed 
 no skilled eye to see that they belonged to that 
 class of society which is called " smart." It is 
 not a particularly descriptive word, but when 
 once the full significance which it now carries 
 with it is appreciated, it means much. It 
 indicates a measure by which exactly to cut con- 
 duct, a moral environment to which the human 
 organism should adapt itself. 
 
 Scovell introduced Winifred and me to Mrs. 
 St. John-Elliot, 
 
36 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 " So glad/' she said, with mechanical inton- 
 ation, when we were introduced. " Hope you 
 know some people. If not — Mr. Scovell does. 
 Stay to luncheon, of course, please." 
 
 All this was said in the same artificial tone, 
 as though she was thinking of something else 
 the while ; as, indeed, she was, for the next 
 moment she turned to a military-looking man 
 standing by her, and said in a dropped voice, 
 *' I really can't this evening. Captain Abinger." 
 
 As we passed on slowly because the room 
 was crowded, I heard a few further remarks. 
 I think Winifred heard them also. 
 
 " Not the least idea who they are," Mrs. 
 St. John-Elliot was saying, " but they'll do. 
 Young Scovell brought them." 
 
 " The girl is pretty," the military man 
 remarked. 
 
 " No doubt " — ^her tone was colder — " you're 
 a judge, of course." 
 
 " A'n't I here ? " 
 
 " Don't be silly" — a softened voice — " Good 
 looking young fellow. I like him. Find out 
 about them, Captain." 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 37 
 
 Mrs. St. John-Elliot was a tall, graceful, 
 elegantly costumed woman of twenty-six or 
 twenty-seven years. Her elaborately dressed 
 hair was very fair — whether entirely natural it 
 was impossible to say — and contrasted with 
 very even dark eyebrows. Her eyes, grey- 
 green and not large, were well set and gazed 
 calmly, liquidly, and languidly from between 
 their dark and deeply folded lips. The face 
 oval and rather thin, with a pointed chin 
 and square jaw. The complexion even, pale, 
 and well done. The nose straight with 
 slightly raised nostrils. The lips straight 
 and thin, but bright coloured. Passion, 
 dissipation, selfishness and beauty were all 
 there. 
 
 Altogether a fascinating woman for men ; the 
 creation, and at the same time, a creator of her 
 set. 
 
 At the first moment I was taken by her ; 
 Winifred did not know what to think, and 
 instinctively was inclined to dislike her. 
 
 Mrs. St. John-Elliot was surrounded by men 
 always, and, talking to all, she maintained at 
 
38 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 the same time an under-conversation with one 
 or two in especial. 
 
 Her husband, to whom we were not even 
 introduced, was a terrible shock to me. A 
 middle-sized, ugly, bearded man of fifty, with a 
 solemn and distracted air. A man who seemed 
 uncomfortable in his position, who addressed 
 short, cold, dull commonplaces to the run of 
 guests, but with a few men of his own age and 
 nature held long, heated, but equally dull 
 arguments in distant corners. I guessed in- 
 stinctively that Mr. St. John-Elliot was a 
 parliamentary bore. The truly surprising 
 thing about this was that, in a past day, he 
 had actually rowed in the 'Varsity eight, and 
 had never once since then missed seeing the 
 race nor omitted to go up to Oxford during the 
 " Eights " week. 
 
 Scovell introduced us to some people and 
 pointed out others. On account of my father's 
 retired habits, more accentuated since my 
 mother's death, we did not know very many 
 people, and those not of the " smart " section. 
 The only one I knew by sight and by a single 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 39 
 
 introduction, was Lord Padstow, an elderly 
 peer, with a face like a shrivelled apple, a dyed 
 moustache, and a dubious moral reputation. 
 
 Lord Padstow had attached himself to the 
 younger of two sisters (both very young girls, 
 about sixteen and fourteen years respectively) 
 and was, what in homely language would be 
 called, " carrying on " with her. Both the 
 girls were decidedly pretty, and their general 
 carriage was seductive, but I could not help 
 being impressed with an unpleasant sense of 
 un^aturalness in their style and manner of 
 behaviour and of conversation, which were not 
 only far beyond their apparent years, but were 
 not by any means in the best style. 
 
 " Those are the Studley girls, daughters 
 of the Hon. Mrs. Mary Studley," Scovell 
 remarked. 
 
 I commented upon their method of conduct. 
 
 "Yes," he said; "sweet contradictions, 
 aren't they ? Children of heaven and women 
 of the world at the same time. But you should 
 see their mother. Unfortunately she isn't here 
 to-day." Then he dropped his voice so that 
 
40 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 Winifred should not hear. " Good fun though, 
 I can tell you. I'm going to take on the elder 
 myself directly. Old Padstow has taken the 
 young one in hand, the old satyr ; but she's his 
 inatch any day." 
 
 At this moment the military man who had 
 been talking to Mrs. St. John-Elliot came 
 up. 
 
 " Hulloa ! Scovell. Hope your father's all 
 right. When are you going to join us ? " 
 
 " Some day, perhaps," Scovell replied; 
 " when there is a vacant commission — say when 
 you send in your papers, Abinger." 
 
 He smiled unpleasantly, but replied, " Not 
 just yet, then — will you introduce me to your 
 friends ? " 
 - Scovell did so. 
 
 Captain Eldred Abinger was a man of thirty- 
 three, as I guessed, tall, fair, slightly aquiline, 
 unhesitatingly military. He had a strong, 
 confident manner, tending to arouse antag- 
 onism in men and admiration in women. He 
 paid the boldest and glibbest of compliments to 
 Winifred in a mocking tone of superiority and 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 41 
 
 assurance which made me almost annoyed to 
 see that my sister obviously liked it. 
 
 He soon contrived to saunter off with 
 Winifred, and I saw little more of her till later 
 in the day. Scovell himself seemed somewhat 
 put out. 
 
 " I don't care much about Abinger," he 
 said, " but perhaps it would be different if I 
 were ^a woman — which I'm not, thank good- 
 ness, for there's Folly Studley." 
 
 And with that he went off to attach himself 
 to the elder of the two girls. 
 
 It was time now to move down to the river- 
 side where St. John-Elliot had a private 
 enclosure. I thought for a moment that I 
 should have to go by myself, when to my sur- 
 prise and delight Mrs. St. John-Elliot came 
 towards me. 
 
 " Will you escort me, Mr. Manners ? " she 
 asked. '' I've stupidly invited so many pretty 
 girls here to-day — your sister included — that 
 all my men have left me." 
 
 I was only too pleased, and felt a thrill of 
 pride, mingled with an emotion I could not 
 
42 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 analyze, as I walked with her to the 
 river. 
 
 I talked volubly, and uttered as many and as 
 ingenious compliments as I could invent. I 
 thought I was doing very well. She listened 
 and replied with a half-amused air. She 
 evidently liked it, and no doubt my combination 
 of innocence and assurance was delightfully 
 fresh to her after the town-worn manner of 
 most of the men of her set. 
 
 I made her a preposterous bet in gloves, 
 which she accepted readily, but with a little 
 hard laugh that I did not understand. 
 
 In time the boats came in sight. Cambridge 
 was leading by a length, but a reasonably 
 experienced eye could see that, while the lead- 
 ing crew were showing by a certain raggedness 
 of the oars that their efforts were beginning to 
 tell, the Oxford crew were rowing well within 
 themselves and were merely waiting their time. 
 I said this to Mrs. St. John-Elliot. 
 
 It was a popular theory at one time that the 
 boat which was brought to Hammersmith 
 Bridge first would certainly win, bar accidents. 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 43 
 
 Captain Abinger, who was standing with 
 Winifred not far off, evidently held this belief. 
 
 " It's a monkey to a fiver on Cambridge," 
 he said aloud. 
 
 In a moment, with a sharp determined tone 
 that I had not suspected in her, Mrs. St. John- 
 Elliot said, — 
 
 " 0one, Captain ! " 
 
 He turned his head quickly in our direction, 
 looked hard at her, then bowed and said, — 
 
 " Certainly. You are wonderfully quick at 
 an offer." 
 
 It was clear he would have backed out if it 
 had been possible; but many people had 
 heard. 
 
 When the umpire's boat returned the dark 
 blue flag was atop. 
 
 Mrs. St. John-Elliot laughed with a hard 
 little inward laugh; then turning to me said 
 in her most melting manner, — 
 
 " You shall have your gloves. I insist upon 
 it. Give me your address before you go." 
 
 We all went back to the house and had 
 luncheon. Afterwards a game of pool was 
 
44 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 started, a game of mere amusement at first in 
 which the ladies joined, and everyone offered 
 chaff and advice as he or she chose. 
 
 Several of the men did not play, Scovell and 
 myself among them, but merely contented 
 ourselves with giving directions to the ladies. 
 I and a certain Dick Farrington were Mrs. St. 
 John-ElHot's advisers; Captain Abinger tutored 
 Winifred, Scovell, Miss Studley, and so on. 
 
 I was introduced to Dick Farrington. He 
 spelled his name Ffarrington, but no one else 
 did, except ceremoniously. 
 
 He was a young man of good family, a Cam- 
 bridge man, and an athlete who had adopted 
 the stage as a profession — as the profession. 
 He was really a clever, charming fellow, and in 
 the course of that afternoon we became very 
 good friends, promising to look each other up 
 and exchanging cards. 
 
 After a few games the ladies retired from the 
 table, and a serious game was entered upon. 
 The players were five — Captain Abinger, Sir 
 Reginald Vane-Vane, Farrington, Scovell, and 
 myself. I had a fairly good opinion of myself 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 45 
 
 as a pool player. No self-respecting " Jones's 
 man " had otherwise — and rightly, since we 
 played among ourselves every afternoon in 
 the winter, and it was a habit, when any one 
 of us happened to be especially hard up on 
 Saturday, and yet wished to go up to town to 
 stay with an aunt till Monday, for such to go 
 down to the public table in the local town, and 
 play a few games. I have done so more 
 than once, and never failed to accomplish my 
 desire. 
 
 Here, however, I found I was in very warm 
 company. Scovell and Farrington I did not 
 mind, but the other two were something 
 peculiarly sultry. I inquired of Scovell about 
 Sir Reginald Vane. 
 
 "Well, he's Reggy Vane— that's all," he 
 replied. 
 
 As no further information was forthcoming, 
 I can only say that Sir Reginald Vane- Vane, 
 commonly Reggy Vane, was a young-old or 
 old-young man, inscrutable as to age, character 
 and occupation, irreproachably dressed, and 
 on terms of familiarity with everyone. After 
 
46 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 five minutes I was " Manners " and he was 
 " Vane," all titles of courtesy being dropped. 
 
 I didn't lose, which is all I can say. Scovell 
 lost a lot, and Farrington after a few games gave 
 it up. When Scovell dropped out, three-pool 
 was proposed, which I declined, for I felt I was 
 to be cut up, and at this game I knew too 
 much for that. So they played single pool, as 
 no one else cared to take a ball. It was an 
 interesting match, and Vane got the best of it. 
 
 When time for leave-taking came, Mrs. St. 
 John-Elliot was very effusive to Winifred, 
 to my surprise, and made us promise to come 
 and see her again. Captain Abinger was 
 equally cordial to me. 
 
 On the way home, Scovell said, " What do 
 you think of Mrs. Elliot ? " 
 
 " I don't much care about her," Winifred 
 replied, " but I think Captain Abinger is very 
 nice." 
 
 " Well, I don't care about him, but I think 
 Mrs. St. John-Elliot is charming," I said. 
 
 Scovell laughed. " I tell you what though: 
 that little Studley girl is a scorcher." 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 W:^ took Winifred back to my aunf s, and 
 went home to dinner. After dinner we made 
 a vain effort to settle ourselves down for the 
 evening. The mental disorder into which a 
 day spent as this had been had thrown us, 
 unsettled our minds and excited in us a nervous 
 restlessness which made the house seem a 
 narrow prison. 
 
 We tried to play billiards, but after playing 
 a hundred up in which the highest run had 
 been eight, Scovell said, " Oh, hang this ! 
 Let's go out." 
 
 The suggestion suited my mood exactly, and 
 was one which I should long ago have made 
 myself had the ordinary laws of courtesy 
 permitted it. 
 
 "PVaps they wouldn't Hke it," I said in 
 
48 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 feeble protest. " They " was a compromise 
 on my part, the conditions under which the 
 family lived making it most difficult to say 
 "father and mother," or any equivalent. 
 
 " Mind ? Of course not. You don't know 
 us yet. Manners. Everyone in the house does 
 exactly as he or she pleases." 
 
 So we went, and as a fair start took a 
 hansom to Piccadilly Circus. It was Boat- 
 race night. The disorder of that night in the 
 neighbourhood of the Criterion has much 
 moderated of late years; but at the time of 
 which I write the Boat-race was in the height 
 of popularity, and Boat-race night was kept as 
 a revel. On one or more occasions about this 
 date the Criterion and one or two other 
 restaurants were wrecked by a mob of dis- 
 orderly young men as a small protest against 
 the desire of the managements to maintain 
 some sort of order in their establishments. 
 These riotous scenes were ascribed in the 
 morning papers to medical students, and the 
 police reports of the cases of those delinquents 
 who next morning were " up before the magis- 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 49 
 
 trate" seemed to justify the statement. It is, 
 however, only fair to the " medicals " to say 
 that any disorderly youth who finds himself in 
 that unfortunate position has his profession 
 entered in the charge sheet as " medical 
 student," in the same manner as every mis- 
 demeaning young woman is an " actress." 
 Why these two professions are selected it is 
 difficult to say, but such is the case. 
 
 Piccadilly Circus and its neighbourhood was 
 crowded, and we soon met with several Univer- 
 sity friends, but the great majority of the 
 male crowd was composed of young fellows 
 who had certainly never seen the inside of 
 a public school, and to whom Oxford and 
 Cambridge were only names. 
 
 How we spent the next two hours needs 
 no detailed description. They were passed 
 alternately at the Criterion and St. James's 
 restaurants, varied by an occasional visit for 
 twenty minutes to the Pavilion Music Hall. 
 Leaving these for the last time after eleven, 
 Scovell and I went for a last turn round the 
 Circus, after which we intended to go home. 
 
50 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 Suddenly among the crowds of men and 
 women that thronged the place, my eyes fell on a 
 girl whom I seemed to recognize. The pressure 
 on the pavement was so great at the moment 
 that we were scarcely moving, and I was face to 
 face with her for many seconds. She turned 
 her eyes in my direction, and there came over 
 her face a look of doubt and then of recog- 
 nition, pleasurable at first and then frightened. 
 
 " Nelly ! " I said, " is that you? You know 
 me?" 
 
 " Yes," she answered, "you're Horace — Mr. 
 Manners." 
 
 It was indeed Nelly Sawyer, the girl about 
 whom I got into trouble at Winchester. I had 
 told no one, not even Scovell, of that episode 
 in my career, not because I was in any way 
 ashamed of it myself, but from a chivalrous 
 sense that it might somehow get spread abroad 
 and so injure the reputation of the girl herself. 
 
 I therefore merely said, — 
 
 " There's a girl I want to speak to for a few 
 minutes. Where shall I find you again ? " 
 
 I saw immediately that quite naturally and 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 51 
 
 innocently Scovell put a misinterpretation to 
 my words. 
 
 " All right, old man — never mind me. I'm 
 going home directly. You can come along just 
 when you like — Ah, by the way," he added 
 after a slight pause while he felt in his pocket, 
 " you'd better take the latch-key. They'll be 
 up when I get home. So long. Breakfast 
 at nine o'clock, I shall see you then." 
 
 And slipping the key into my hand, he was 
 away in the crowd before I ha^ time to say a 
 word by way of explanation. 
 
 Why I should have troubled myself about an 
 explanation at all I don't know, except that it 
 was in my nature to wish to justify myself 
 under any circumstances, and in this case the 
 explanation was of such an innocent character 
 that I felt annoyed not to have an opportunity 
 of making it, and making it with perfect 
 truth. Ail my explanations were not of such 
 simplicity and verity. 
 
 I turned to Nelly. 
 
 " Who'd have thought of meeting you here ! " 
 she remarked. 
 
52 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 The vulgarity of this cliche of London greet- 
 ing shocked me a Uttle. Memory places facts 
 on its stage with considerable illusion, and 
 when we recall scenes of a past day we view 
 them as though in a theatre, accepting tinsel 
 as gold and an ill-educated woman as a 
 princess. 
 
 Although only three years had passed (Ah ! 
 but the three years between sixteen and nine- 
 teen is a very long time) my memory of Nelly 
 had doubtless modified the original. I recalled 
 her as a pretty, shy, saucy little girl, and I 
 connected no vulgarity with her. 
 
 Now that she was once more before me I 
 saw that she was still pretty and still saucy, 
 prettier and saucier perhaps, but the touch of 
 vulgarity and boldness in her form and manner 
 of speech caused me at first an uncomfortable 
 sensation. I had not expected it. 
 
 I replied that of two things unlikely to 
 happen, the more unlikely of the two was tP 
 meet her here. 
 
 " Oh, well, you never know your luck, do 
 you ? But I'm glad, that I am, really." 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 53 
 
 " So am I, Nelly. I have often wondered 
 what had become of you, and whether I should 
 ever see you again. I've found you now, 
 and we'll celebrate the occasion. Come 
 along." 
 
 I led her away towards Coventry street, 
 intending to give her some supper at one of 
 the restaurants in that neighbourhood where 
 the cooking is good and a private room can 
 always be had. 
 
 " I want you to tell me all about yourself, 
 what you have been doing since we last met, 
 and how you came to be here." 
 
 I wished to make her talk so that I might 
 have a betjter opportunity of observing her and 
 of recovering from the slight shock I had 
 received, but which I realized was probably 
 due to warts on the memory as much as to 
 the bloom that three years had rubbed ofJ 
 Nelly. 
 
 "V/ell, after that," she said, "father treated 
 me shameful. I wasn't let do anything, not go 
 out nor speak to anyone nor nothing." 
 
 " I'm afraid that was mostly my fault." 
 
54 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 "Don't bother about whose fault it was," 
 she repHed. " If it was yours, I Hked it. We 
 did have some fun, didn't we ? " she added 
 laughing . 
 
 The more I looked at her the more was I 
 struck with the knowledge of what a fine 
 handsome girl she had become, not quite the 
 Nelly I remembered, but a Nelly to whom, if 
 something was missing, something had been 
 added. I was impatient to be out of the crowd 
 in the streets, and in some place where we could 
 talk privately. 
 
 " Father sent me into service at a place near 
 Windsor. I stayed as long as I could, but I 
 couldn't stand it. They didn't give us enough 
 to eat, and we used to have to sneak the things 
 when they came down from upstairs. One day 
 my mistress had the cheek to threaten me 
 because I had cut off some cold meat for myself. 
 Mean old cat ! I wasn't going to stand that, I 
 can tell you. Catch me ! So I just put on my 
 things then and there, and marched myself out." 
 
 " And then—? " 
 
 " It was a winter night and sleeting and a cold 
 
/ 
 
 A BIT OF A FOOL 55 
 
 wind. I hadn't got on only a thin jacket. I 
 walked a long way till I felt tired, and sat down 
 under a hedge till I went to sleep. When 
 I woke it was getting morning, and I was 
 wet through and felt awful bad, especially in 
 my chest. A cart came along, and I asked for 
 a lift to London. He was a civil man. He 
 wanted to lark with me at first, but he saw 
 how ill I was, and covered me up with sacks ; 
 and when he got to London he went a bit out 
 of his way round by the hospital. They kept 
 me in there for three months. I was nearly 
 gone one night. Even now in the winter my 
 cough is bad." 
 
 " Poor girl ! " I said with a sudden impulse 
 of feeling, for I could not but see that her 
 misfortunes were due to my folly. I said as 
 much. 
 
 " Oh, go on ! What of it ? I'm here 
 now." 
 
 This " sufficient for the day" sentiment was 
 evidence, I am afraid, less of a philosophic than 
 of a shallow mind. 
 
 We had arrived at the restaurant and were 
 
56 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 shown to a private dining-room upstairs. She 
 wished to have supper in the pubHc room 
 below, but I resisted that. With a fooHshness 
 that I should not be likely to repeat at the 
 present time, I gave her the bill of fare to 
 choose from. She selected oysters, a porter- 
 house steak, a lobster mayonnaise, and ices. 
 The waiter suggested champagne, in which she 
 acquiesced. At the moment I did not under- 
 stand the principle on which her supper was 
 chosen. It did not appear to be an elegant, 
 but rather an indigestible meal. On glancing 
 at the bill later I found the solution of the 
 puzzle. Her method was indeed simple. She 
 had chosen those items against which the 
 highest prices were marked, with the exception 
 of the ices, which are things that no woman 
 with sound teeth can pass by. 
 
 We conversed in ordinary stupidities during 
 the service of supper, as the waiter was in and 
 out of the room. When he brought in the 
 ices he said that if we wished for anything else 
 would we kindly " just touch the bell," and re- 
 tired, discreetly closing the door. 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 57 
 
 Once more alone, I went and sat by Nelly 
 and kissed her. 
 
 " Now I want to hear more of your story." 
 
 " Why ? What does it matter ? I'm here. 
 Do you remember that walk we had together 
 one moonlight night ? " 
 
 I remembered it very well, and a strange 
 thrill went through me as I realized that we 
 were here — the same I and the same She. But 
 I wanted to know more about her. 
 
 " You old silly," she said, throwing her arms 
 round my neck, '' why do you want to know ? 
 You men always want to know too much." 
 
 The wine had evidently got a little, just a 
 little, into her head. 
 
 " Well, I went to stay with another girl, with 
 whom I had made friends in the hospital. I 
 got one or two things to do in shops and such 
 like, but they didn't last long. Then I thought 
 I would try to get on the stage. I went to 
 an agent's — " She stopped abruptly. 
 
 " Well ? " I queried. 
 
 She hung down her head and picked the 
 crumbs off her lap. 
 
58 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 " What does it matter ? I didn't succeed in 
 getting anything. Why do you persist in 
 asking ? " 
 
 " Because I mean to know, Nelly," I said 
 gravely. " I want to know all about it, and 
 about what you are doing now." She told 
 me the rest, and I heard with self-reproach 
 and sorrow, mingled with an unreasonable 
 sense of jealousy. She too was affected 
 and began to cry. I let her, and kissed the 
 tears. 
 
 "Poor little girl," I said, "and it is all 
 through me." 
 
 " Oh, no," she replied slowly, with the intent, 
 as it seemed to me, to be magnanimous, " at 
 least, not all." 
 
 " Thank you, Nelly dear," I murmured ; 
 " but look here ; this must not go on. I will 
 take care of you until you can get something 
 worth doing, something that will give you 
 enough to live upon decently." 
 
 " I wish you would, for I'm sick of it." 
 
 " I will." And T never felt so good in my life 
 as at that moment 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 59 
 
 " Suppose now," I said, " that I were to go 
 and see your father, and try — " 
 
 " No," she interrupted, " no, I can't do that. 
 I could never be happy. I should go away 
 again." 
 
 " If so, then it's no use. You think you 
 would like the stage ? " 
 
 " I know I should," she answered, brighten- 
 ing up. 
 
 " I'll try. It may be rather difficult at first, 
 and take a little time. But never mind ; you 
 sha'n't want till then — nor after." 
 
 " You are a dear, kind, good boy." She 
 kissed me affectionately, dried her eyes, and 
 talked cheerfully of our past days and many 
 other things. 
 
 A little later there was a discreet knock at 
 the door. I said " Come in," but the waiter 
 did not enter until Nelly had had time to 
 smooth her hair. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, madam, but we're just 
 closing." 
 
 I paid the bill and we went out into the 
 street. It was half-past twelve. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 Thk next morning, after breakfast, I told 
 Scovell that I rather wanted to try to get a 
 girl I knew on the stage. Could he suggest 
 how to go about it ? 
 
 " A girl," he echoed, as if in meditation. 
 " Yes, of course." He picked up the news- 
 paper and examined it for a few minutes, so 
 that I almost believed that he wished to avoid 
 the subject. However, he did not. " There 
 are twenty-seven theatrical agents who adver- 
 tise that they have openings for beginners. It 
 would appear that beginners are scarce. Any 
 part from leading to extra lady seems to be 
 procurable — on terms. There ought to be no 
 difficulty." 
 
 I asked him to be serious, but he went on, — 
 "The addresses of these honest tradesmen 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 61 
 
 seem, for the most part, to be in Stamford 
 Street and York Road. Do you know the 
 locaHty ? " 
 
 I admitted my ignorance. 
 
 " Pro's corner is a liberal education in 
 theatrical matters. There will be found there 
 at mid-day many persons willing and able to 
 take any part from lead to extra. But these 
 gentlemen want beginners. It would appear 
 therefore that in the profession, unlike any 
 other profession, it is more profitable to know 
 nothing ; a theory which my recent experiences 
 of the stage most fully confirm.*' 
 
 " More sense and less sententiousness," I 
 said, imitating his style, " would better befit a 
 student of the ancient and learned University 
 of Oxford. Drop it ! " 
 
 " Go and see Dick Farrington. He'll know. 
 I'll come with you. I can tell where to find 
 him at most hours of the clock." 
 
 An hour later we made our way down to the 
 Strand. 
 
 " Eleven-seventeen, " said Scovell. " Then 
 Farrington will be in Gatti's bar." 
 
62 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 He was. He welcomed us both, and after 
 the usual formalities of the place, I opened the 
 subject. 
 
 " Look here. Manners," he said, " it depends 
 what kind of a shop she wants. Is it a speak- 
 ing part, or a leg show ? " 
 
 I did not quite like the idea — I had some 
 romance left in me — but I presumed that, as 
 she had had no experience, it would be a leg 
 show. 
 
 " In that case I should advise you to go to 
 Williamson's. He can do it, I know. But as 
 a piece of advice, don't stand any nonsense. 
 Insist upon seeing him^ and him only and by 
 himself. Say plainly what you want, that you 
 are personally interested in the girl, and do the 
 necessary." 
 
 " How much will the necessary run to ? " I 
 asked. 
 
 " You may safely say that a fiver will get you 
 the introduction to the manager of a going 
 concern." 
 
 Leaving him and Scovell together, I made 
 my way to Williamson's as directed. The 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 63 
 
 offices were over a shop in one of the streets off 
 the Strand. I made my way upstairs and 
 entered a gaudily-shabbily furnished room on 
 the first floor. It was full of actors and 
 actresses all talking volubly. The men were 
 both old and young, and carried the mark of 
 their profession in their faces, their clothes, 
 their manner, and their speech. The women 
 were some smartly dressed, others not so 
 smartly ; some pretty, others not so pretty ; 
 some young, others not so young. On my 
 entry I received such a staring up and down 
 that I felt for the moment quite uncomfortable. 
 The men stared at me with obvious mistrust 
 as on one who was come to take the bread out 
 of their mouths. They soon decided, however, 
 that I was not a competitor. I suppose I did 
 not look it. The women, much quicker to 
 notice the fact, looked at me with quite other 
 interest, and had it not been that I remembered 
 the object with which I had come, I imagine 
 that I should only have been anticipating the 
 wish of one or two of the smarter, younger, 
 and prettier if I had offered luncheon at some 
 
64 A BIT OF A FOOD 
 
 neighbouring restaurant, making of course 
 some convenient excuse for first speaking. At 
 intervals a youngish clerk entered the room 
 through a baize door and mentioned a name, 
 whereupon he was immediately surrounded 
 with women inquiring coaxingly whether he 
 did not think there was something for them 
 to-day, whilst the men from a distance made 
 grumbling appeals on the length of time they 
 had been kept waiting. 
 
 After a while I saw that unless I forced my 
 way I might remain there all day. When he 
 next appeared I quickly took him aside saying 
 that I wished to speak to Mr. Williamson at 
 once. 
 
 " Mr. Williamson's very busy just now. I'm 
 afraid he can't see you. Will you look in to- 
 morrow ? " 
 
 " No ; I must see him now," I said. " I'm 
 sure he will see me if you will take this 
 in." 
 
 I put my card, against the underneath side 
 of which I held a sovereign, into his hand. A 
 look of quick appreciation came into his face. 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 65 
 
 He looked at my card intently, and then said 
 civilly, — 
 
 " I'll take it in at once, sir." 
 
 This remark had the effect of drawing all 
 eyes upon me again, and I realized that I was 
 at once raised to the position in the popular 
 esteem of one of the theatre-supporting 
 aristocracy. The ladies languished and the 
 men swelled. 
 
 Mr. Williamson, a middle-aged man, indu- 
 bitably of Semitic origin, broadly dressed, and 
 not quite concealing a large diamond ring, 
 said, — 
 
 " What can I do for you, Mr. — er— 
 Manners ? " 
 
 I told him my business. He made great 
 difficulties about the matter, talked volubly of 
 the overstocked market, of the number of clever 
 ladies in his books for whom it was impossible 
 to find places. However, he would enter the 
 lady's name. Of course he would have to see 
 her first, though he did not doubt my statement 
 that she was tall, well-proportioned, and pretty. 
 The fee would be one guinea for booking. 
 
66 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 I mentally decided to double the figure 
 suggested by Farrington. I placed a ten pound 
 note on the table. He took it up, looked at it 
 both sides, and then opened a locked drawer in 
 his desk as if to find change. 
 
 I merely rose, held out my hand cordially to 
 him, and said I would bring the lady at the 
 same time to-morrow. 
 
 He took the situation without the sign of a 
 flutter, opened the door for me, shook hands 
 again so that the crowd in the ante-room might 
 see, and called out, — 
 
 " Purvis, show Mr. Manners down stairs ! " 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Whkn I returned to the bar I found Scovell 
 and Dick Farrington still there. I related to 
 them the history of my adventure. 
 
 " That's all right, my boy," Farrington said, 
 " as far as it goes. Williamson will probably 
 send the girl down to some theatre to see 
 someone, the acting manager, or whoever may 
 be responsible for giving the engagements. 
 But it doesn't end there. If I were you, I 
 should manage to go with her myself. It will 
 be seen then that she is properly backed. Let 
 her go as smart as possible. They generally 
 like their ladies to dress well." 
 
 I thanked him for his advice and for the 
 interest he had taken in the matter, promising 
 to look him up again when the business was 
 settled, and tell him how I got on. Then 
 Scovell ^nd I took our leav^. 
 
68 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 The same evening after dinner I asked to be 
 excused for an hour or two as I wished to 
 visit a friend I had promised to look up when 
 I was in town. As usual I encountered no 
 objection. I took a hansom to West Kensing- 
 ton with the intention of seeing Nelly and 
 telling her what I had done. Arrived at the 
 house, I inquired for her, but was told that she 
 had had tea at six o'clock and had afterwards 
 dressed and gone out. 
 
 " Did she say when she would be in ? " 
 
 " No sir ; I expect her any time," was the 
 answer. 
 
 It was foolish of me not to have told her to 
 expect me, nor to have sent a telegram to her 
 in the morning after my interview. It some- 
 how never occurred to me that she would be 
 out in the evening. 
 
 Saying I would probably call back later, 
 I went away. I did not know what to do to 
 kill time ; so I started by walking anywhere 
 and meditating. The result of my meditation 
 was to show me that I was certainly rather 
 " gone " on Nellie Sawyer. I was not in love 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 69 
 
 with her. How could I be ? Her leaven of 
 vulgarity in person and intellect prevented 
 that ; but I realized that she was a beautiful 
 woman, and I was sensually affected by her 
 great fleshly attractions. I even discovered 
 that I was jealous of her, and found myself 
 trying to imagine what she might be doing. 
 I naturally enough believed that she would of 
 course be faithful, as she had promised. Her 
 sudden miserable outburst on the previous 
 evening told me that she would consider her- 
 self fortunate in having found a helper in her 
 trouble, and that her life had been the outcome 
 of necessity and not of choice. And yet I 
 would very much have liked to know where she 
 was. I did guess, as was indeed probable, 
 that she was out on a shopping expedition, 
 perhaps at some distance where there are cheap 
 emporia of woman's wear. I had especially 
 entailed on her the necessity of making herself 
 smart, and had given her what I believed to 
 be a sufficient sum for that purpose. I also 
 knew that such places existed in suburban or 
 semi-suburban localities, as Kilburn, Bays- 
 
70 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 water, and Brixton, and I concluded that, were 
 my surmise correct, she would be back by 
 about ten o'clock. 
 
 And so I wandered about, thinking of this 
 and many other things ; of my father and of 
 Miss Tennant, who was supposed to be setting 
 her cap more and more steadily at him ; of 
 Winifred, and of Captain Abinger, whom I 
 instintively, for I had no reason, disliked the 
 more I thought of him ; and from Captain 
 Abinger it was an easy transition to Mrs. St. 
 John-Elliot. She fascinated me with a power 
 quite different from that which Nelly exerted. 
 Nelly was, to my mind, a mere simplicity ; 
 Mrs. St. John-Elliot a complexity. It was 
 strawberry jam against caviar. 
 
 Ten was struck out by a neighbouring clock, 
 and I hastened back to Nelly's lodgings. She 
 had not yet returned. 
 
 I was bitterly disappointed, and the old 
 pangs of jealousy made themselves felt again in 
 me. I tried to soothe them by inventing a 
 number of perfectly reasonable excuses, but the 
 application of such salv^ did not really kill 
 
or rrtn ^\ 
 
 T^TTVT'q 
 
 A BIT OF A FOOL 71 
 
 the pain. All I could do was to go back to the 
 Scovells, after leaving a note to say that I 
 should call for her at ten in the morning. 
 
 On arriving at the house I was sincerely 
 glad to find Scovell out. I had thought over 
 the matter, and decided to say nothing to him 
 as to what I had been doing. Indeed, I had 
 not told him where I was going, framing my 
 words so as to leave it to be inferred that the 
 friend whom I was going to see was a man. I 
 was glad I had done so now, as I felt a sense of 
 wounded vanity in the idea of telling him that 
 I had not seen Nelly. 
 
 When he returned he said nothing. Colonel 
 and Mrs. Scovell went off to bed at twelve as 
 usual, and he and I sat up in the billiard-room 
 smoking, looking at the evening papers, and 
 occasionally making some casual remark. 
 
 Suddenly Scovell dropped the paper he had 
 been reading, looked straight at me, and said, 
 '' Well, did you see her ? " 
 
 " Who ? " I answered evasively. 
 
 " Your girl that you went to see — of course 
 jQU had to see her." 
 
^^2 ^ A BIT OF A FOOU 
 
 " I didn't tell you I was going." 
 
 I was fencing with this question, as I had not 
 made up my mind whether to tell him the 
 truth or not. 
 
 He merely shrugged his shoulders and 
 laughed. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I saw her." I had to lie for 
 mortification. There was really no possible 
 reason why I should not have been quite 
 candid, except a ridiculous dictate of vanity. 
 
 " Then I was mistaken," he said, and picked 
 up the paper. 
 
 Once more I was pricked in my tender spot. 
 I knew that there was something behind his 
 remark. 
 
 " What about ? " I asked, with an air of 
 indifference. 
 
 " Nothing; only I thought I saw her in 
 Piccadilly. It was my mistake, and the girl 
 I saw was dressed very differently from the one 
 you met last night." 
 
 His reason for his disbelief was not so con- 
 vincing to me. It was only too probable that 
 Nelly would have been dressed very differently. 
 
A BIT OF A FOOU ' 73 
 
 for she was none too smart last night. I 
 forbore to question Scovell further, but deter- 
 mined to satisfy my doubts on the morrow 
 when I should see Nellie. 
 
 At ten o'clock I arrived at her lodging, and 
 found her dressed, or nearly so — for a woman 
 has a wonderful deal to complete after she 
 appears to a simple man to be dressed — in 
 anticipation of my visit. 
 
 " I said to myself that I hadn't ought to 
 keep you waiting," she said, with a delightful 
 mixture of archness and bad grammar. She 
 looked charming, and I wanted to kiss her, but 
 I had determined to exhibit no weakness till I 
 had ascertained the truth. 
 
 " You weren't in last night," I said indif- 
 ferently. 
 
 " Oh, I was that sorry, Horace, you can't 
 tell! " she replied with an air of candour that 
 was most convincing. " You didn't say you 
 was coming, and I was so happy meeting you 
 again and all that, I couldn't keep to myself, I 
 wanted to tell someone so bad, and I went to 
 see my little friend, the one, you know, that I 
 
74 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 first went to live with when I came out of the 
 hospital. She hves down at Battersea/' 
 
 This was such an exceedingly natural ex- 
 planation, and was spoken so openly, without 
 a suspicion of concealment, that I was quite 
 convinced, and called myself a jealous ass for 
 my suspicions. 
 
 I determined in future to take a better view 
 of woman's nature, and not to be misled by the 
 misogyny of my too cautious cousin Wynne, 
 who was always ready to impute hidden 
 motives to all that women, and, for the matter 
 of that, men, did or said. 
 
 Shortly afterwards we drove to Williamson's, 
 the agent, and were shown into the inner 
 sanctum at once. As we passed through the 
 crowd, much the same crowd, we were objects 
 of greater curiosity than ever. The appearance 
 of Nelly, who looked very smart, with me made 
 a marked difference in the looks that were cast 
 at us. It was the women this time that looked 
 suspicious and defiant, and the men who 
 plumed themselves and gazed with patent 
 interest. 
 
'A BIT OF A FOOL 7$^ 
 
 The business with Williamson did not take 
 long. He took in Nelly with a quick and 
 appreciative glance as we entered, and began 
 immediately 
 
 " Exceedingly fortunate, Mr. Manners ; very 
 fortunate, I may say," unaware of the anti- 
 climax. " They are just putting a new 
 burlesque into rehearsal at the Melpomeen " 
 (the good man was not a Greek scholar), " and 
 I think I can promise the young lady an 
 engagement. If you will kindly take this card, 
 my dear, and ask to see Mr. Thompson, I 
 fancy it will be all right." 
 
 We made our exit. 
 
 " You will stay with me, won't you, Horace ? 
 I shall be awfully nervous," said Nelly. 
 
 We found the stage door of the Melpomene 
 with some difficulty — it was hidden most 
 securely round a corner in a back street. 
 
 We entered, and found immediately inside a 
 very small stuffy room divided from the passage 
 by a half-door. Inside sat a surly-looking old 
 man in his shirt-sleeves, reading the paper. As 
 he made no attempt to move I said loudly, — 
 
^6 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 " I want to see Mr. Thompson if he is in 
 the theatre." 
 
 He looked at me, and without answering 
 rang a bell. He waited a minute, and then 
 rang again. He rose slowly, and with a 
 muttered remark about " that Jones," offered 
 to go and find Mr. Thompson himself if- 
 possible. 
 
 When he was gone we amused ourselves by 
 looking at the numerous notices pasted up on 
 the walls. Nelly took an excited interest in 
 them. Suddenly she burst out laughing. 
 
 " Look, Horace ; just read this." 
 
 I read — 
 
 " Ladies receiving a less salary than 30^. are 
 not expected to come to the theatre in their 
 own broughams." 
 
 Our amusement was interrupted by the 
 return of the old man, who asked us to " step 
 this way." Up some dingy stone steps, 
 between whitewashed brick walls, we went 
 across the wings of the stage, where a number 
 of carpenters stood while one was shouting 
 out directions to someone above about raising 
 
A BIT OF A FOOU ^j'j^ 
 
 a sky-border; through an iron door, up and 
 down more steps, and so into the office of Mr. 
 Thompson. 
 
 Mr. Thompson was a large man, with a loud, 
 familiar air, a red face, and a black moustache. 
 He welcomed us as if he had known us both 
 a considerable time. 
 
 • " Sit down," he said, " I sha'n't be a minute," 
 and he went on writing at a table. Before him 
 on the wall hung a looking-glass, and chancing 
 to look up, I saw that he was taking stock 
 of Nelly in the glass as he licked a large 
 envelope. 
 
 " Yes, I think we have something for you," 
 he said, facing round suddenly. " Stand up, 
 my dear, a moment. Thank you." 
 
 He looked Nelly up and down. 
 
 " You want to put on tights, eh, Miss Elaine 
 Soyer ? ' Soyer ' sounds like something good 
 to eat, don't it ? " 
 
 I had flattered myself that it was rather 
 a good stage perversion of Ellen Sawyer. 
 
 " Too many cooks spoil the broth," he went 
 on, " but we could do with a few more Soyers 
 
78 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 like you. Ha ! ha ! " He seemed eminently 
 pleased at his joke. Nelly of course didn't see 
 it, but laughed. 
 
 " Got good legs ? " he said 
 
 " I think so," Nelly answered, laughing ; and 
 to my surprise lifted up her dress, and showed 
 a quantity of elegant lingerie and a very shapely 
 silk stocking as far as the knee. 
 
 He pinched her calf. " All your own, I see. 
 I'd have taken your word for it, my dear, but, 
 as you say, seeing is believing. Not that it 
 much matters; padding does just as well if it's 
 well done." 
 
 I was a little disconcerted at this scene. 
 Nelly was not, which gave me some cause for 
 meditation and disappointment. I did not 
 understand how, if her story were true, she had 
 got rid of her natural girlish modesty so 
 quickly. I put it down to the fact that excite- 
 ment had got into her head like champagne. 
 
 " Can you sing ? " 
 
 Nelly said she could by ear, but not very well 
 from music. 
 
 " That's all right. Mr. Kaufmann will be here 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 79 
 
 to-morrow when we try voices. If you do — I 
 think you will — I'll engage you at two guineas 
 a week. We shall have the contracts ready 
 to-morrow for signature. I shall be seeing Mr. 
 Williamson before then. I can't say for 
 certain, but," here he looked straight at me, 
 ** we might have a speaking part, one or two 
 lines, to offer you. You understand ; I don't 
 know, but we might." 
 
 I bowed slightly to indicate that I understood 
 his meaning ; and Nelly, with her most tempt- 
 ing look — it was tempting and gave me another 
 little pang — said, — 
 
 " Oh, please do, Mr. Thompson ! " 
 
 On leaving the theatre I proposed luncheon. 
 We drove round by way of Williamson's office, 
 and leaving Nelly in the cab, I went in alone. 
 
 When I came out I told Nellie that I 
 thought she might count on that speaking part. 
 The figure had been pretty stifif, but it was 
 worth it. 
 
 " You darling Horace, I owe you everything, 
 you dear, dear boy. If we were anywhere else 
 I'd kiss you a hundred times ! " 
 
8o A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 "It's nothing, Nell," I said. "I still owe 
 you a very great deal. I can't forget that I am 
 responsible for all that has happened to you. 
 But promise me one thing, dear, only one." 
 
 " What is it ? I'll promise anything, any- 
 thing in the world." 
 
 " Promise me that from this time you will 
 run straight. I will always look after you. 
 You won't deceive me, play the fool with me 
 and yourself too, will you ? " 
 
 Nellie's grey eyes filled with tears. 
 
 " You don't think I'd do anything like that, 
 surely ? I know I've been an awful bad girl, 
 but I never will again for your sake, dear." 
 
 " Promise me, then." 
 
 " Oh, I do, I do ! " she said, with an impulsive 
 sob. 
 
 And I fully believe she meant it. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 ThK May term passed as delightfully as it can 
 only pass to a young man in his first year at 
 the University. I had only two things to 
 trouble me. First, that I was in for my 
 " Honour Mods." examination, which meant 
 that I had to attend lectures ; and the second 
 that I began to discover that a thousand a 
 year was not the large income for a 
 young man which I had supposed it to be a 
 year ago. As a matter of fact I found myself 
 getting awfully short af cash, while my bills 
 were mounting up at a great rate. For the 
 latter I cared little, as I was not likely to be 
 pressed for a long time to come, and I had 
 imbibed enough of the Scovell philosophy to 
 make me quite callous on this point. 
 
82 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 But shortness of ready money was a different 
 matter. Apart from the fact that I did not 
 intend to be beaten in the matter of pace by 
 my companions at " the House," which in 
 itself made a hole in my finances, Nelly had 
 been, and still was, a considerable drain on me. 
 She had her engagement and her two guineas 
 a week, it was true, but I had to supplement 
 this to a pretty tune to enable her to maintain 
 her position. Then my sister was coming up 
 for " Commemoration." She was to be 
 chaperoned by the St. John-Elliots, with whom 
 she had become very friendly, as my father did 
 not wish to come himself. He objected actually 
 to Winifred coming, as he said it would disturb 
 me and might imperil my class in the examina- 
 tion. However, upon my assurance that I was 
 certain to get a " first," he gave way so far, 
 especially as the examination would then be 
 over. 
 
 Delighted as I was, I saw that it would put 
 me to a large out-of-pocket expense, which had 
 to be provided for. 
 
 At this very time, then, an incident occurred 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 83 
 
 which compelled me to take a step which I 
 had made every endeavour to avoid if pos- 
 sible. 
 
 I received an endearing, despairing letter 
 from Nelly one morning. Through the de- 
 fection of one of the principals, the opportunity 
 was open to her of getting a much more im- 
 portant part, which she said might be the 
 making of her, as she was sure she had a 
 talent for the stage. To do her justice this 
 belief appeared well founded. She begged and 
 prayed of me to enable her to take it, but it 
 would have to be " worked." However, she 
 believed, nay, was certain, that a hundred 
 pounds would " do the trick." 
 
 I had seen enough of the back stairs of ^'the 
 profession " to make me credit her statement, 
 and to perceive that, if I could manage to raise 
 the money, it would in the long run be both 
 advantageous and economical. If " Elaine 
 Soyer " should succeed in hitting the public 
 taste, her position would be made, and she 
 could command her own prices, prices high 
 enough to satisfy her aspirations to the 
 
84 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 utmost, as I supposed, without requiring 
 financial assistance from me. The pubHc taste 
 also in the matter of stage affairs is a factor of 
 such unknown value, so eccentric, so whimsical, 
 so surprising, that had Nelly been a perfect 
 fool, it was impossible to predict failure, and 
 had she been a born genius, it would have been 
 rash to foretell success. 
 
 These considerations made it clear to me 
 that the experiment was well worth the risk. 
 Add to this that I had a passion for her, of 
 the frankly physical kind, it is true, which 
 nevertheless is sufficient to make men com- 
 mit the wildest extravagances and follies, and 
 that my youthful vanity would feel flattered, 
 my position among my Varsity associates being 
 magnified, by my connection with a new 
 goddess of the inferior slopes of Parnassus 
 (the choice classic simile was Scovell's), and 
 it will be seen that I had sufficient inducement 
 to make me resolve on a step which I should 
 have thought nothing of in later years, when it 
 was familiar, but which, being as yet unknown, 
 induced timorous tremblings of spirit when I 
 contemplated it 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 85 
 
 This step was nothing more or less serious 
 than to seek the assistance of a professional 
 money-lender for a temporary loan. It was to 
 be a temporary loan by all means. It was 
 merely to carry me over till the end of term, 
 or rather till the end of Commemoration week. 
 And then during the Long Vacation, by seeking 
 out some quiet retreat, and by paying visits to 
 houses where I had been invited, I could 
 recover my financial position. The more I 
 considered this matter in this common-sense 
 light, the more convinced I was that it was a 
 perfectly reasonable and justifiable course to 
 take. I was not so green as not to know that 
 the sufficient interest of sixty per cent, was re- 
 quired by those amiable gentlemen who, having 
 spare capital to invest, are always willing to 
 assist young men of good position, even though 
 they are minors ; and taking into consideration 
 the risk run of an occasional bad debt, the 
 interest did not appear unduly exorbitant. 
 It was clearly necessary for me to have some 
 ready money to go on with. I was much too 
 proud to ask for a loan from my rich friends, 
 
86 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 and the idea of applying to my father was put 
 away as soon as it occurred. I could only 
 dimly imagine what he would say, and I knew 
 it would be refused. I should have had to lie 
 freely and well all through the long cross- 
 examination to which I should be subjected, 
 and the idea of doing so was distasteful. I did 
 not overflow in the abundance of my Christian 
 virtues, but I held firmly to the idea of gentle- 
 manly honour. To lie to my father was an 
 idea quite repugnant to me. Yet what else 
 could I have done ? My college bills, my 
 tradesmen's bills ! The only and very remote 
 possibility of the success of my application 
 would have been that I had no debts. Even 
 then it would have been difBcult to account for 
 my expenditure : the Nelly items could not 
 appear in my accounts. Even if this were got 
 over, there would still be the apparent im- 
 possibility of explaining the need for a sum of 
 about two hundred and fifty pounds to meet 
 the expenses of my sister's visit, which, if 
 I took her to every possible festivity and 
 entertained her and her friends in royal 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 87 
 
 fashion, could not have cost more than fifty- 
 pounds. 
 
 No ; most clearly this course was impossible, 
 and there was only one open to me. 
 
 I had invited my cousin Percy Wynne to 
 dine with me in " hall " one evening. I do not 
 know what put it into my head, but it occurred 
 to me to pump him on the question of money- 
 lending, not because I imagined that he was 
 likely ever to have had any dealings in that direc- 
 tion, but because I had found by experience that 
 he possessed an unusual fund of worldly infor- 
 mation, and his acquaintance with some of the 
 phases of the hidden life of society had often 
 surprised me by its completeness of detail. 
 Of course I was not going to let him imagine 
 for one moment that I was in need of any 
 assistance of a cash nature. As a matter of fact 
 he would never have dreamed of such a thing, 
 as he was always instancing me as a lucky 
 fellow who could afford to do without debts, 
 and comparing his position, not enviously but 
 naturally, as one who, with an income of two 
 hundred altogether, could not possibly manage 
 
88 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 to pay for everything immediately, sometimes 
 leaving his tailor's bill unpaid for as much as 
 six months at a time. I condoled with him, 
 but smiled to myself at his puritanical rectitude 
 in the matter of his tailor, who, as Scovell said, 
 would rather not be paid, being a Quixotic 
 artist who sought his sole reward in striving 
 for the impossible attainment of making one of 
 God's creatures look like a fashion plate. 
 
 In my rooms after " hall," as we smoked and 
 idly amused ourselves at the windows by 
 aiming lumps of sugar at men as they crossed 
 the Quad., I said to him suddenly, apropos of a 
 man who had just entered No. 6 staircase, — 
 
 " Do you know that man ? Stupid young 
 fool ! I won't mention his name. I will tell 
 you something about him." 
 
 " What's his name ? " said Percy absently, 
 apparently not having heard all my remark. 
 
 " It mightn't matter, but as this is a private 
 business I won't name him. He came to me 
 the other day to ask my advice. His father 
 strictly limits his allowance, and as he wanted 
 some money for immediate purposes and had 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 89 
 
 run short, he thought of going to old Scarlett, 
 the money-lender. I advised him most strongly 
 to do nothing of the sort. I said he didn't 
 know what he might let himself into. But he 
 said he thought he would have to, as there 
 might be some trouble somewhere if he couldn't 
 raise the cash. I don't know what the result 
 was." 
 
 I complimented myself on the way I had 
 introduced the subject. Needless to say I did 
 not know the man, and he had never asked me 
 anything at all. 
 
 " Why did he confide in you ? Are you great 
 friends ? " said Percy. 
 
 " No," I replied, rather troubled what to say, 
 " that's the odd thing about it. I hardly know 
 him." 
 
 " Yes, that is odd," Percy mused. " I expect 
 your flourishing condition is known, and he 
 was trying to tap you for a bit ; that was his 
 way of introducing the subject. Artful, wasn't 
 it ? " Percy laughed. 
 
 " I don't think so," I replied. " As a matter 
 of fact I — er — I offered him some help, but he 
 
90 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 declined it with such obvious annoyance at 
 the idea that I should have taken it for a hint 
 that I felt obliged to apologize in some sort." 
 
 " You advised him not to do it ? " 
 
 " Certainly. I said he would be a perfect 
 fool to think of it." 
 
 " I don't know that you were quite right ; it 
 all depends." 
 
 I was quite surprised at this answer from 
 Percy. Yet it pleased me, as it afforded some 
 support to the reasons which I had suggested 
 to myself. 
 
 " Has he got an ample allowance ? " Percy 
 continued, " Is it merely a temporary and 
 unexpected embarrassment ? " 
 
 " Really, old man, I didn't ask him such 
 things. I couldn't.*' 
 
 " No, perhaps not ; but it would make all the 
 difference between folly and reason. But at 
 least you know whether his father is rich; 
 whether he has expectations ? " 
 
 I saw that I had better know something. 
 
 " Yes," I said, " his father is a wealthy man, 
 and he is the only son," 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 91 
 
 " In that case," Percy replied, " I don^t see 
 that it would be much harm. The money- 
 lender fellows would know that, and though 
 they make the interest pretty stiff, they wouldn't 
 press him, especially if he kept up the instal- 
 ments regularly. 
 
 " You know," Percy continued, " it is only 
 poor men, who have no real possibility of ever 
 being able to meet the capital debt, that get 
 pinched by the Jews. These fellows know their 
 own business, and so long as they feel reason- 
 ably secure, they are quite willing to lend out 
 their money at such thundering good interest 
 for any length of time. I, for instance, should 
 be a fool to do such a thing, but men like this 
 man, or you, would be quite safe ? " 
 
 " And yet," I argued, " don't you think it 
 would be wiser to leave it alone, or get the 
 money some other way ? " 
 
 "As to the first, it depends. One may be 
 placed in such circumstances by accident that 
 one must have money. As to getting it 
 another way, after all it is a perfectly open 
 business transaction, into which no one but an 
 
92 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 idiot goes with his eyes shut. In the business 
 world, these things are every-day occurrences, 
 and business could not be carried on otherwise. 
 The biggest houses in the City give notes and 
 accept bills right and left. I am inclined to 
 think that this is on the whole a great deal 
 better than to incur debts with friends or rela- 
 tions, which has most disastrous results only 
 too often." 
 
 I say that I was at first surprised at the 
 attitude that Percy took. But his remarks 
 seemed to contain so much common sense that 
 I was on the verge of telling him of my own 
 resolve. But I did not. I simply dropped the 
 subject. 
 
 The next day I went to Mr. Scarlett's office. 
 He was a pleasant, quiet old man, with long 
 white Dundreary whiskers and a good quantity 
 of hair to match. He was quite businesslike 
 about the matter. I had been very nervous on 
 entering, for I was going into the unknown. 
 But his manner quickly reassured me, and I 
 wondered at my former hesitation. 
 
 He asked me to fill up a form which asked 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 93 
 
 replies to a number of questions, all of which I 
 answered truly and easily, except two : these 
 were the purpose for which I required the 
 money, and the amount of my personal debts. 
 I invented a romance about both. 
 
 He looked at the paper when I had finished. 
 
 " You are under twenty-one, I see." 
 
 " Yes," I repUed, waiting for him to raise 
 some objection. But he said nothing more. 
 
 " Father alive ? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes," I replied again. 
 
 " Two hundred and fifty you want ? " 
 
 Again I affirmed it. 
 
 " Thank you," he said, " I won't keep you 
 longer now. Can you look in to-morrow about 
 this time ? I will have the note ready for you 
 by then. Ah ! by the way, you didn't say how 
 you would like to repay it." 
 
 I left it to him, whatever was usual. 
 
 " Shall we say three months, by three 
 monthly instalments, then ? " 
 
 I acquiesced, and bade him good-bye. 
 
 I returned at the appointed time on the 
 next day. He greeted me with a cordial nod. 
 
94 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 offered me a cigar (an excellent one) and 
 glass of champagne (also good), then laid 
 before me a bill for two hundred and eighty- 
 seven pounds ten shillings, repayable by 
 monthly instalments of ninety-five pounds 
 sixteen shillings and eightpence. 
 
 This amount for two hundred and fifty 
 pounds down looked wonderfully reasonable. 
 
 I signed the bill with an easy conscience. 
 
 " If at any time," he added with a polite air, 
 " you should wish to carry over an instalment 
 or anything of that kind, I have no doubt we 
 can arrange it for you." 
 
 I thanked him for the information. He 
 handed me a cheque for the amount, shook 
 hands cordially with me, showed me to the 
 door, and it was done. 
 
 It seemed the simplest way of getting money 
 in the world. 
 
I . 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 I SHi^T^ Nelly the hundred pounds she had 
 asked for, and was shortly rewarded by a letter 
 from her saying that she had managed to get 
 the part and had made a hit in it. Of course 
 she sent love and kisses, and called me by all 
 the endearing names she could recollect having 
 come across in her romantic reading. I 
 accepted it all in the most natural manner, 
 which certainly proved that I had more vanity 
 than sense. I know that it interfered with my 
 reading for that whole evening, for when I 
 ought to have been grappling with a stiff bit 
 of bad grammar in Thucydides, I found myself 
 gazing in mental vision on Nelly's graceful 
 form behind the footlights from the front row 
 of the stalls, and went on in imagination to 
 the sequel, the waiting at the stage door, the 
 
96 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 greeting, the supper, and all the rest ; to be 
 suddenly and most unpleasantly broken by the 
 real image of a reading-lamp, books, papers, 
 and table. 
 
 At last I gave up reading, and delivered 
 myself completely over to the delightful opium 
 dreams of fancy and recollection. 
 
 When thinking about Nelly, the vision 
 would often be disturbed by the unsought 
 intrusion of another face into which Nelly*s, 
 as in a lantern picture, would resolve. This I 
 discovered to be invariably the face of Mrs. St. 
 John-Elliot. The woman had fascinated me, 
 and I felt a fluttering, fearful joy in thinking 
 that I should see her again shortly. 
 
 To speak truly, I was not a little annoyed 
 and ashamed at the constant recurrence of 
 this face. I had then some moral scruples 
 left, and the fact that she was a married 
 woman entered from time to time in my 
 dreams with a chilling horror for myself. 
 Then I would strike the table in anger, get up 
 from my chair and walk about the room to 
 throw off the dreamy state in which I felt 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL ^, 
 
 it was not good for me to indulge. I tried to 
 think of other things, of Winifred, of my work, 
 and smoked cigarettes furiously, chewing the 
 ends and throwing them away half-finished. 
 But it was all to no purpose. The face 
 continued to haunt me, and at last I ceased to 
 fight against it, and gave myself up to a 
 condition of insensible contemplation which, 
 had it been directed towards the realization of 
 the perfect, would have gained for me in the 
 East the status of a Mahatma. I cleared the 
 ground to start with by imagining Mrs. St. 
 John-Elliot a free woman and myself a free 
 man, with unbounded means and magnificent 
 capabilities, making of her a goddess, and of 
 myself a god, or at least a hero. What 
 wonderful events and scenes there were in 
 that visionary paradise I will not and cannot 
 describe. I might have attained to Nirvana 
 had not the morning light of May, as it made 
 my window panes bright blue and my lamp- 
 light golden, recalled me to life. 
 
 In the sunlit glare of the following day I 
 called( myself a fool when I thought of my 
 
98 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 meditations of the previous night. I railed 
 upon the fooHsh fancy which had transfigured 
 and glorified a very ordinary society woman 
 into a beatific abstract of the feminine, and I 
 hoped, or said I hoped, that the actual vision 
 of the person would dispel at once and for ever 
 an imagination as unrighteous as it was 
 ridiculous. Yet, reason with myself as I would 
 in this manner, I could not rid myself of the 
 fascination which her personality exercised 
 upon me. 
 
 This state of mind had by no means deserted 
 me when I went in for my " schools." More 
 than a hundred times I caught my attention 
 straying from the examination paper before me 
 to a prevision of that day when I should again 
 set eyes upon this woman ; and though I 
 endeavoured to laugh to scorn the folly which 
 presumed that, allowing that I was attracted 
 towards her, she had any recollection of me but 
 as a callow youth, I could not shake off the 
 mental condition I was in. 
 
 At the end of the examination I felt that I 
 had not done well, but the unpleasantness of 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 99 
 
 this knowledge was relieved from immediate 
 oppression by the fact that many weeks must 
 yet elapse before my shortcomings were made 
 known to the world at large, and to my father 
 in particular, by the publication of the Honours 
 List. 
 
 On a certain Saturday about the middle of 
 June, I found myself waiting at mid-day on the 
 platform of the ugly cattle-shed that for long 
 did duty as a railway station in the not unim- 
 portant city of Oxford. As I watched the 
 incoming train writhe sinuously and restretch 
 itself as it crossed the points outside the station,- 
 a fearful trepidation seized upon me. I flushed 
 and perspired and almost ran away home with 
 the invented excuse that I had mistaken the 
 time. It was the first time since I was a 
 schoolboy — I well knew that feeling on going 
 back to school — that I had experienced any- 
 thing of the kind, and it appeared quite 
 ridiculous. Luckily, before my fear had time 
 to act on my will, the train hustled along the 
 platform, drew to a standstill, and emptied 
 passengers frpm ^yery door on to the CQH" 
 
100 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 siderable crowd already waiting. In this mass 
 of faces stage blindness seized me, and I failed 
 to distinguish one person from another. It was 
 whilst gaping/ about like an idiot that I heard a 
 voice say quite close to me, — 
 
 " Horace, here we are." 
 
 My nervousness had gone together with the 
 torture of expectation. I was face to face with 
 reality now. I kissed Winifred, who looked 
 charming, and turned to greet her friends. 
 
 " So good of you to take this trouble about 
 us, Mr. Manners," said Mrs. St. John-Elliot, 
 in her languid, silvery tones, as she held out 
 her hand. " I'm afraid you must have thought 
 us a great nuisance. We are always a nuisance 
 to our friends, aren't we, Douglas ? " she added, 
 turning to her husband. 
 
 " Oh, I don't know," he said stupidly, as he 
 shook hands with me; "ask Abinger. " 
 
 It was then for the first time that I saw, with 
 a sense of annoyance and displeasure, that 
 Captain Abinger was also of the party. 
 
 " Hullo, Manners," he said, familiarly, " you 
 i^idn't expect to see me, did you ? I've never 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL loi 
 
 been to Oxford during the Celebration — how 
 do you call it ? Ah ! Commemoration — and 
 Elliot suggested my coming, and here I am." 
 
 " I'm delighted to see you again," I said, 
 untruthfully. '' I hope you will make use of 
 me in any way you please." 
 
 '' No, no, Manners ; I've not come to 
 victimize you, you know. I'm just going to 
 get a room at the ' Mitre,' and take my 
 chance." 
 
 I was about to protest, when a porter saved 
 me by hurling a trunk on my toes, and the 
 luggage scramble began. 
 
 The St. John-Elliots and Winifred drove off 
 to the Randolph Hotel, where I promised to 
 call for them after luncheon to show them the 
 various sights of Christ Church and anywhere 
 else, to be followed by tea at my rooms. 
 
 Captain Abinger left his traps in the cloak 
 room and asked me to show him the way to 
 the " Mitre," where he would try to get a bed. 
 I was obliged to assent, and we walked up 
 together. 
 
 He asked me a number of questions, the 
 
I02 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 purpose of v/hich was, as I saw, not to obtain 
 information, for he scarcely troubled about the 
 answer I gave, but to interest me and make me 
 talk. I could not help resenting the obvious 
 suggestion in all our conversation that I was a 
 mere boy whom he desired to please. This 
 was, of course, the plain truth, but it is a truth 
 which a young man of nineteen does not like 
 to have thrust before him, and Captain Abinger 
 was either tactless, careless, or malicious in 
 letting it appear. Presently he changed the 
 conversation, and I then perceived that he had 
 entered upon the body of his subject, the 
 former conversation being a mere preliminary. 
 He might have dispensed with it in the manner 
 of the translation of an Eastern letter which 
 runs, " After compliments, so and so, and so 
 and so." 
 
 " I hear your father hasn't been in the best of 
 health lately," he said. 
 
 I replied that that was so, but did not 
 suppose it was a thing generally known. 
 
 " Your sister mentioned it," he explained 
 *' I suppose it is nothing seriovi§? " 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 103 
 
 It was not, as far as I was aware. Some few 
 months ago he had had an attack of influenza, 
 and his present condition appeared to be a 
 kind of relapse or consequence. 
 
 "Glad to hear it. The 'flu' is a funny 
 thing ; very like the Denghi fever, you know. 
 I've seen a lot of it in India. It som^etimes 
 appears to collapse an elderly man. However, 
 I'm very glad to hear he is all right again." 
 
 I had not said so, and, as a matter of fact, 
 he was not : he was suffering from a kind of 
 nervous break-down. I did not see any harm 
 in saying as much. 
 
 " Sorry to hear that. He'll have to keep 
 quiet and not have anything to annoy or worry 
 him for a while. That's the only thing wanted 
 to put a case of that sort right." 
 
 I said that I did not think he could have any 
 worries. 
 
 " You and your sister are the only children, 
 I believe ? " he said, interrogatively. 
 
 I affirmed the belief. 
 
 " Lucky," he replied, " not to have any 
 young children about. You two don't cause hiixi 
 
104 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 much trouble, I'll be bound. Has he much 
 business, because that's a bad thing in such a 
 case ? " 
 
 My father had some time ago resigned certain 
 directorships which he held, and given up any 
 active part in politics. 
 
 " Quite right, too. Companies and politics 
 are two examples of other people's business, in 
 which if one interferes one gets no good and 
 may burn one^s fingers. But I referred to his 
 own business." 
 
 My father's estates were under the manage- 
 ment of a good steward, and he never dealt in 
 speculative investments. 
 
 " Oh, that's much the best way of doing 
 things, I think. Sensible man, your father." 
 
 I wondered at the time why Captain Abinger 
 took so much interest in my father, but I put 
 it down to a desire to present himself favour- 
 ably to me. He was practically a stranger, as 
 I had only met him once at Mrs. St. John- 
 Elliot's, but though I wondered why he should 
 concern himself so much in the matter, I did 
 not see any especial motive. 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 105 
 
 By this time we ha<i arrived at the Mitre 
 Hotel, where Captain Abinger succeeded in 
 obtaining a room. He asked me to lunch 
 I with him, but I excused myself. At the same 
 time, as an act of courtesy in return, I could 
 not do less than ask him to come round to my 
 rooms to tea that afternoon. With some show 
 of reluctance he accepted the invitation, and 
 wishing him good-bye for the present, I de- 
 parted to luncheon in college, after which I 
 went round to the Randolph Hotel. 
 
 I found the St. John-Elliots and Winifred 
 ready to come out, and we started together. 
 As a natural consequence, because the pave- 
 ments are not too wide and were full of people, 
 we fell into pairs, Mr. St. John-Elliot walking 
 behind with Winifred. Mrs. St. John-Elliot 
 was delightfully amiable and took a real or 
 well-feigned interest in all she saw. I then 
 realized that the fascination which I had 
 struggled against vainly, and which I hoped 
 would be dispelled in seeing her again, was all 
 the more indubitably there. Her proximity 
 exercised a kind of physical mesmerism on me, 
 
io6 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 and filled me with an indefinable pleasure that 
 I had never before experienced in the presence 
 of any other woman. 
 
 We talked nothing but the simplest common- 
 places, yet she had a way of making the most 
 trite observation sound sweet and allusive, as 
 though it were entirely personal to myself. I 
 knew then that I was treading on dangerous 
 ground. 
 
 I had invited my cousin Wynne and Scovell 
 to tea, and they came, together with Captain 
 Abinger. 
 
 The universities are about the only places in 
 England where, in social entertainments of all 
 kinds the men outnumber the women, for 
 which reason women are always pleased with 
 their visits. They have couriers in abundance 
 and to spare, and can accordingly pick and 
 choose, and be on and off at their own sweet 
 wills ; nor do they, as a rule, forbear to take full 
 advantage of this fact. 
 
 In my rooms Winifred had Scovell and 
 Captain Abinger as cavaliers. Mrs. St. John- 
 Elliot ha4 Wynne ^n4 myself, Wynne, with 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 107 
 
 most commendable tact, after being properly 
 polite, retired to talk to Mr. St. John-Elliot, so 
 that I was left with Mrs. St. John-Elliot to my- 
 self. I was duly sensible of the generosity of 
 my cousin's behaviour, and my opinion of him 
 was greatly heightened. Nor did Mrs. St. 
 John-Elliot seem to appreciate it less. She sat 
 with me in a window seat, enclosing in 
 commonplaces gems of greater value to me than 
 a pearl in an oyster shell. Needless to say I 
 was in the seventh heaven, or eighth if there be 
 one. 
 
 Scovell at first stuck to his position by 
 Winifred, with Captain Abinger on the other 
 side, but at length he moved, and went to talk 
 with Mrs. St. John-Elliot and Wynne. I looked 
 for the reason of this, and saw that Winifred 
 and Abinger were engaged in an animated and 
 pleasant conversation, where his somewhat 
 worn gallantries were being accepted by her as 
 impromptus of sparkling originality. 
 
 I made up my mind to ask Winifred a 
 question on the first opportunity. The chance 
 came as they were returning to the Hotel. I 
 
io8 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 found myself with Winifred alone for a few 
 moments. 
 
 "Do you like Mrs. St. John-Elliot?" I 
 asked. 
 
 " She's perfectly delightful. Bella and I are 
 great friends." 
 
 "It has come to ' Bella/ has it ? " I said. 
 
 " Don't you like her, then ? " 
 
 " I think she is very nice." 
 
 " She is always talking about you." 
 
 My vanity was absurdly flattered, but I 
 continued, — 
 
 "You seem to get on with Captain 
 Abinger." 
 
 "I think he's very nice," she replied in my 
 own phrase. 
 
 " I don't." 
 
 " Oh, why not, Horace ? " she said quickly., 
 ** What don't you like in him ? " 
 
 " I don't quite know, but there is something 
 about him that — " 
 
 "That what?" 
 
 "It is difficult to say— that I don't Hke. 
 That is as near as I can get it." 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 109 
 
 " You won't say that when you know him 
 better." 
 
 " As well as you know him ? " 
 
 " Yes, as well as I know him." 
 
 "That will be never, I hope, Winifred," I 
 said, looking straight at her. " I believe you 
 are fond of him." 
 
 " Do you ? " She returned my gaze quite 
 steadily, with a slightly defiant smile. " You 
 can believe what you please, my boy." 
 
 I never saw my sister like that before. 
 
 It was the nearest thing to a quarrel we had 
 had for years. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 On the next day, " Show Sunday," as it is 
 called, I took Winifred and the St. John 
 Elliots for a half hour's promenade in the 
 Broad Walk. " Show Sunday " had even at 
 that time lost most of its ancient glory, as 
 with the growth of democratic ideas the 
 " town " had not forborne to usurp the 
 privileges hitherto supposed to belong exclu- 
 sively to the "gown," and had reduced the 
 promenade to a very second-class afifair, so that 
 it was only for a short half-hour that the 
 aristocracy of the University, the doctors of 
 divinity, music and medicine, and civil law, 
 with their wives, families and friends, deigned 
 to sacrifice themselves on the altar of old 
 custom. 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL iir 
 
 Our party divided itself as usual. Mr. St. 
 John-Elliot did not accompany us, having gone 
 to visit several old 'varsity friends, musty-fusty 
 dons, as we undergraduates considered them, 
 and therefore Captain Abinger was once more 
 Winifred's cavalier. Scovell, strangely enough, 
 had declined to come when I asked him. For 
 myself I confess that I felt no little pride in 
 walking with Mrs. St. John-Elliot. 
 
 There was no doubt that she was strikingly 
 graceful and beautiful, and wore her clothes, 
 which were triumphs of the costumier's art, in 
 a manner to make all the other women envious. 
 Everyone looked at her, the women furtively 
 and hostilely, the men openly and admiringly, 
 while all the fellows that I knew bowed in their 
 most exaggerated manner, evidently in the hope 
 of attracting my companion's notice, and with 
 some idea of being specially civil to me, in the 
 hope of thereby benefiting by an introduction 
 at the balls and garden parties of the next three 
 days. We did not talk much. Mrs. St. John- 
 Elliot asked questions about this person and 
 that person whom we passed, and I told her, 
 
112 A BIT OF A FOOD 
 
 with truth when I knew, and with plausibiHty, 
 when I did not know. But it was also evident 
 to me that her questions were mechanical, 
 either from habit, or because something else 
 occupied her mind. Then she said, — 
 
 " I was so awfully sorry to hear from 
 Winifred that your father was not well." 
 
 I said it was very kind of her to take so 
 much interest. 
 
 " Winifred and I," she went on, " have be- 
 come such friends that I feel as if I knew you 
 all. Do you know, I have very nearly half a 
 dozen times already called you Horace instead 
 of Mr. Manners. It seems so ridiculous to say 
 Mr. Manners when I call your sister Winnie." 
 
 " Yes, I wish you would not. I feel how 
 absurd it is, Mrs. St. John-ElHot," I 
 answered. 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 " But, you know, if I call you Horace, you 
 will have to call me Bella." 
 
 This was indeed getting on, I thought. 
 
 " But — " I said, and stoij^ped. 
 
 She guessed my meaning. 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 113 
 
 " Mr. St John-EUiot calls your sister — 
 Winifred. Are you thinking he would 
 mind ? " 
 
 I hardly knew how to answer. I was think- 
 ing that, it was true, but I did not dare say so, 
 as the thought implied that I wished to occupy 
 a place with regard to her that might not meet 
 with her husband's approval, and I was not 
 certain how she might like it. But she saved 
 me all further troubling. 
 
 *'If I permit it," she continued, with a 
 glance at me that spoke volumes, " Mr. St. 
 John-Elliot will have to permit it also — 
 Horace." 
 
 " Of course," I said. 
 
 She looked me full in the face, and with 
 mischief in her eye, said very low,— 
 
 " Bella ? " 
 
 " Bella," I said with difficulty, while I felt the 
 blood rush into my face. 
 
 She laughed a little low laugh. My head was 
 in a whirl, and the wildest imaginations filled 
 my thoughts. The next thing I remembered 
 clearly was her saying, — 
 
114 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 "—But I hear he is better now." 
 
 It was a long moment before I realized that 
 she had gone back to the beginning of the 
 conversation, and was speaking of my father. 
 I had had a letter that morning to say he was 
 not quite so well again. I told her this. 
 
 " I am so sorry/' she said impressively, | 
 almost too impressively considering the con- 
 dition of our acquaintance. 
 
 Thinking over the conversation a hundred 
 times in my rooms that night, I especially 
 noticed one or two things. First, that she 
 never spoke of " my husband," but always of 
 Mr. St. John-Elliot, though exactly what the 
 distinction might be I could not fathom. 
 Next, the remarkable coincidence between her 
 conversation and that of Captain Abinger. I 
 could only regard it as coincidence, because I 
 failed to see any possible reason why these 
 taking a similar interest in our family affairs, 
 two should have had any mutual cause for 
 taking a similar interest in our family afifairs, 
 except the one assigned, namely, that both 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 115 
 
 regarded myself and my sister with feelings of 
 friendship. 
 
 I was not so green, of course, as not to see 
 that there might be a reason why Captain 
 Abinger should display an interest in my 
 father, for it was only too plain that he had 
 taken a great fancy to Winifred, and she to 
 him. I could not approve her choice, though 
 this was obvious, for Winifred was undoubtedly 
 a very pretty and attractive girl. It was 
 therefore clear that the Captain wished for a 
 favourable introduction to my father, and was 
 working to that end. 
 
 But the same reasons could scarcely exist 
 with Mrs. St. John-Elliot. If she had taken 
 a liking to me, as I flattered myself, I failed to 
 see what advantage there could be in becoming 
 more intimate with my family. A young man 
 is not like a girl — he is at liberty to go where 
 he chooses, and probably the less his relations 
 know of his movements and his friends the 
 better for him. Coming to no conclusion on 
 the subject, I gave it up for the present to 
 await further developments. The first shock 
 
ii6 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 to my natural scruples having been overcome, 
 I ceased to regard it as in any way impropeii 
 that I should be seriously permitting myself 
 to fall in love with a married woman. I did 
 not really think about it much, and, if I did, I 
 argued to myself that it was probably the safest 
 thing that I could do, as the limit to which I 
 should be permitted to go would be soon 
 reached ; while as to the possible destruction 
 of my own peace of mind, I was never fond of 
 looking clearly to future consequences, believ- 
 ing that in a general way things always came 
 out all right in the end. 
 
 The next three days passed in the usual 
 whirl. We went to everything, the University 
 Ball, the Masonic Ball, the Christ Church 
 Ball, the Masonic Fete, the Wadham Garden 
 Party, the Flower Show in Worcester Gardens, 
 and the Encoenia in the Sheldonian on 
 Wednesday morning. Through all this I was 
 Mrs. St. John-Elliot's favoured cavalier. She 
 reserved for me a number of dances which 
 made a subject of comment from disappointed 
 aspirants, and sat apart with me in shady 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 117 
 
 nooks of College Gardens. The effect pro- 
 duced on me by all this I can only describe as 
 rapturous, and I allowed myself to be carried 
 away by the full torrent of my passion. As 
 for her, she became more deliciously fas- 
 cinatingly melting, so that, had I been able 
 to keep my head, I might have seen cause to 
 draw back before things had gone too far. 
 
 Winifred, besides being a general success, 
 received special and devoted attention from 
 Captain Abinger and Scovell. The latter 
 stuck to her most persistently, but he appeared 
 to make far less advance than his mora 
 fortunate rival. Winifred treated him with 
 kindness, and clearly enjoyed his attentions. 
 But it was no more than that. She gave him 
 no deliberate opportunities, as a girl can give, 
 to carry the matter further. I was frankly 
 sorry, for I was fond of Scovell, and had hoped 
 that Winifred would also have taken a fancy 
 to him. I could not understand it, for there 
 was no question to my mind between the 
 merits of the two rivals. It might be that a 
 girl would feel more greatly flattered by the 
 
1-18 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 attentions of an older and experienced man 
 than by those of a young man little older than 
 herself, whom, in her feminine superiority, she 
 would call a boy ; but it was to me incredible 
 that she could not detect the marked difference 
 in character between the two, and prefer the 
 good to the bad. But a woman's way is too 
 wonderful for man's understanding. 
 
 The Christ Church Ball was on Wednesday. 
 It was the winding-up of the festivities, and 
 men and women were alike nearly played out. 
 Bella professed fatigue and " sat out " the 
 majority of dances, but danced a few waltzes 
 with me, a few heavenly waltzes which we had 
 danced to before at the other balls, and whose 
 ghosts would haunt the memory for many a 
 long day and be revived whenever the strains 
 of the music fell upon the ear, even though 
 they came from a street organ. 
 
 It was during one of the " sit outs," and 
 only about two o'clock, that I was surprised to 
 see Scovell walk up to us for the purpose of 
 saying good-night. I railed at him for going 
 50 early, but, with the nearest approach to 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 119 
 
 bad temper that I had ever seen in him, he 
 explained that he was tired and had a head- 
 ache, neither of which statements did I beheve. 
 
 " Say ' good-night ' to your sister for me," 
 he said. 
 
 I pointed out to him that she was at that 
 moment standing not far off with her partner. 
 Captain Abinger. 
 
 " I won't interrupt her now," he said, and 
 turned away quickly. 
 
 " Mr. Scovell seems quite put out about 
 something," Bella said. 
 
 There was a queer, dreamy expression in her 
 eyes as she spoke, an expression compounded 
 of regret, of annoyance, and of determina- 
 tion. 
 
 " He seems to be very much taken with 
 Winifred, " she continued, "but I think the 
 feeling is not entirely reciprocated, is it ? " 
 
 I did not quite know how I was to answer 
 the query. It was clearly intended to obtain 
 my opinion, but I felt some hesitation in saying 
 what I thought. It was on my tongue to say 
 something not too complimentary about Captain 
 
120 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 Abinger, but I remembered in time that he 
 was Bella's friend, and I could not afford to 
 risk wounding her smallest susceptibility. 
 
 " Perhaps he feels that he is cut out for the 
 present by Abinger," I hazarded. 
 
 " Perhaps. The Captain is certainly very 
 attentive to Winifred, and appears for once in 
 a way to be quite serious. It is a surprise to 
 me, who have known him so long." Then, 
 with a little dry laugh, she added, " He has 
 quite abandoned me, and left you in undisputed 
 possession." 
 
 " Which is lucky for me," I said in a low 
 voice. 
 
 " Lucky ? I don't know about luck. Cap- 
 tain Abinger is a charming fellow, but — " 
 
 She stopped abruptly. I looked her full in 
 the eyes, and they were liquid with a drooping 
 Hd. I moved a little. I do not know whether 
 my looks expressed my thoughts at the 
 moment. 
 
 " I'm thirsty," she said suddenly. " Take 
 me to the refreshment room." 
 
 It was half-past four and bright sunlight 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 121 
 
 when we left the Corn Exchange. The effect 
 of three days and three nights' dissipation was 
 clearly marked on the faces and behaviour of 
 the women and men. Dark rings about the 
 eyes, and faces either unduly flushed or unduly 
 pallid, told their tale of sleeplessness and im- 
 passioned nerves ; while a certain sensual 
 intimacy of bearing indicated an exhausted 
 physical and moral fibre. In the glittering 
 golden sunlight of a June morning we walked 
 in groups to our homes through the quiet 
 streets and sniffed the refreshing purity of the 
 early air. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 ThkrK is no day so dangerous to men and 
 women equally as the day following a period of 
 excitement. The lassitude and depression 
 consequent upon physical exhaustion makes 
 flimsy the resistance of the stififest will, while 
 the nervous irritation which finds no employ- 
 ment excites the passions to a rebellion which 
 may end in a condition of anarchy. 
 
 What fatal happenings have the sweet, shady 
 woods of Nuneham then witnessed ! It has 
 long been the custom for those who remained 
 after Commemoration to devote the Thursday 
 to a lazy river picnic at Nuneham, and by this 
 means to give opportunity to body and mind to 
 recuperate themselves after the hurry and 
 excitement of the three earlier days. 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 123 
 
 By half-past ten I was dressed in flannels 
 and at the Randolph, where I found my party 
 languidly taking tea and toast. 
 
 " It is very annoying," I said ; "I have just 
 got a note from Scovell saying he can't possibly 
 come to-day." 
 
 Winifred turned away to stir her tea with 
 unnecessary vigour. 
 
 " What is the difficulty ? " asked Bella lan- 
 guidly. 
 
 " He says first of all that he doesn't feel very 
 well, and his people want him at home as soon 
 as possible, so he is going down early this 
 afternoon." 
 
 " Yes ; I mean what diflference does it make 
 to our plans ? " 
 
 " It upsets our boat arrangements. Mr. St. 
 John-Elliot and I were going to take you 
 in our boat, and Scovell and Captain Abinger 
 were to take Winifred — or some arrangement 
 of that sort. Now we shall be a man short, 
 and it is too late to ask anyone else. " 
 
 Mr. St. John-Elliot spoke then. 
 
 " If my absence will relieve the difficulty, 
 
124 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 I would really — in fact I have promised Dr. 
 Phillips that I would take lunch with him to- 
 day." 
 
 " I should like you to come," I said in a half- 
 hearted way, " but of course we could manage 
 with one boat by this plan. Only — " 
 
 " That would be far the best plan, St. John," 
 Bella broke in quickly. " Yes, you go and 
 lunch with Dr. Phillips. I expect you're 
 
 tired." 
 
 \^ 
 
 " It is not unusual for me to sit up many 
 nights as late as this in the ' house ' — meaning 
 of course Commons, not Christ Church — the 
 * house, ' not ' the house,' I might say." It was 
 a ponderous joke. " But I don't care much 
 about picnics. I must admit that at my age 
 I prefer to sit at a table indoors to take my 
 meals . " 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Elliot," Winifred cried, "surely 
 you cannot be insensible to the joy of sitting on 
 damp grass, and of the added flavour which 
 green flies in the claret cup, caterpillars in the 
 salad, and wasps in the cherry pie, give, to say 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 125 
 
 nothing of the wonderful mixture of tongue, 
 strawberries and salad dressing ! " 
 
 At twelve o'clock the four of us were on 
 Salter's raft ; hampers and wraps were stowed 
 away in the boat, and we started. Nuneham 
 was reached without any event happening, and 
 we ate our meal after the usual manner ; fingers, 
 according to the order of creation, being 
 preferred to forks. 
 
 After luncheon we strolled through the 
 woods, up the hill past the Carfax monu- 
 ment. At first we kept together, and the talk 
 was general, but cohesion and partial separa- 
 tion followed in due course, and general con- 
 versation became duologues. So we wandered, 
 not caring whither. 
 
 Whether it was our fault or whether theirs, I 
 cannot say. Bella and I had been conversing 
 with spirit and interest for a while, when, turn- 
 ing about, we found that the other pair were 
 out of sight. I did not know what to do for a 
 moment. I was delighted to find myself quite 
 alone with Bella, but at the prompting of pro- 
 priety I questioned myself whether it was quite 
 
126 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 right to allow Winifred to wander unchaperoned 
 with Captain Abinger. I was quite incapable 
 of ever applying the same standard to myself as 
 to my sister. 
 
 " Do you think we ought to look for them ? " 
 I asked. 
 
 " Do you want them with us ? " said Bella, 
 parrying question with question. 
 
 " No, but—" 
 
 " Just as you like." 
 
 There was the faintest touch of coldness in 
 her voice, and my scruples fled at once. 
 
 " We shall come across them somewhere 
 soon, I dare say, " I answered. 
 
 " You can't tell how much I have enjoyed 
 myself ! " Bella said, as we wandered onward. 
 " You will believe me when I say that it is the 
 first time in my life that I haven't felt bored to 
 death by dances and things. I shall always 
 remember this time." 
 
 " If you have found enjoyment, what shall 
 I say ? " I felt myself very near making 
 an irretrievable step, whether for good or for 
 bad I did not know, nor care. '' While I 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 127 
 
 have been near you, I have been completely 
 happy." 
 
 She looked straight at me. 
 
 " Horace," she said, " you musn't say those 
 things to me. I'm a married woman. You 
 forget that." 
 
 Behind the surface gravity there was an ex- 
 pression of mischief, but half hidden, which 
 incited me to go further. 
 
 " Yes, I forgot that. But I wish to forget it. 
 When you are here, I don't want to think of 
 anything but you." 
 
 " You are a bad boy, Horace. I shall have 
 to give you a lecture." 
 
 " Give it." 
 
 " I'm tired. Let's sit down." 
 
 We had reached a secluded place. The 
 grass was long and soft and the shade of the 
 trees tempting. Such a place must have been 
 the Enchantment Ground of the Pilgrim's Pro- 
 gress, where it was dangerous to lie down, lest 
 a deep eternal sleep should overtake one. As 
 Bella sat down and I stretched myself full 
 length beside her so that I could look into her 
 
128 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 face, I felt that my moral eyes were closing and 
 would soon be insensible. 
 
 " Why am I bad ? " 
 
 " Because you are. Because you have no 
 business to say such things to me. I'm — I'm 
 not a marble statue." Bella's eyes were swim- 
 ming, and at that sight a respondent trembling 
 made every muscle quiver in me. 
 
 " Thank God, no," I said fervently. 
 
 " Better if I were, Horace. It would not 
 then be difficult for me." 
 
 " What difficult ? " I know my voice shook, 
 and I had to cough to clear my throat. 
 
 " Difficult to — to hide my feelings ; to feel no 
 feelings. But you don't understand. You 
 think you can amuse yourself with me, that it is 
 safe for you." She turned her eyes straight 
 upon mine. " Have you ever thought of 
 me?" 
 
 It was a reality more maddening than my 
 wildest dreams. It was a fact, then, that she 
 really cared for me. I could not forbear to 
 tantalize myself to the utmost. 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 129 
 
 " I am always thinking of you," I answered, 
 pretending to misunderstand her. 
 
 " Not that, silly boy. Don't play at mis- 
 understanding what I mean. I am only a 
 woman, not perhaps a very good woman, and 
 to-day I feel as if — let us look for the others," 
 she suddenly concluded. 
 
 " No, no, Bella ; stay a little while, just a 
 little. It is a chance I shall never have again. 
 You are going away to-morrow, and when we 
 next meet, heaven knows what may have 
 happened meanwhile. Stay." 
 
 She made no attempt to move. 
 
 " Are you sorry I am going ? " 
 
 " I wish to-day might last for ever," I 
 said. 
 
 " So do I, Horace. I am very happy now, 
 happier than for years. I shall be sorry to 
 go." 
 
 " Will you ? " I said eagerly, taking her 
 hand, which offered no resistance. 
 
 She did not answer. Her eyes half closed, 
 and then after a minute she said dreamily, — 
 
 " But to-day won't last for ever." 
 
130 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 There was another pause. 
 
 At seven o'clock we arrived back at the boat, 
 where Winifred and Abinger were laughing and 
 talking with animation. 
 
 " Where did you two get to ? " Winifred 
 called out quickly on seeing us. " We missed 
 you suddenly, and have wandered all over the 
 place, I don't know how long, trying to find 
 you, didn't we, Captain Abinger ? " 
 
 Abinger grinned. 
 
 " Rather, " he said, " we're dead beat; must 
 have walked ten miles at least." 
 
 " Not ten," said Winifred. 
 
 " Well, not quite ten, but the dooce of a 
 distance." 
 
 " I know better," Bella replied, " for we have 
 been doing just the same. Odd we didn't find 
 each other, isn't it ? " 
 
 " Dooced odd," Abinger replied. 
 
 And certainly it would have been odd. 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 The following day Winifred and I went down 
 home. We spoke very little during the journey, 
 as we were both pretty miserable. I was so 
 much taken up with my own affairs that I 
 hardly noticed my sister's silence, and perhaps 
 accepted it as quite befitting the mental 
 atmosphere in which I was living for the time. 
 
 We found my father very far from well, 
 nervous, irritable, and at times wandering. It 
 was very unlike his ordinary condition, that in 
 which I had always known him; for although 
 for many years past he had been a gloomy man, 
 yet his mind was always clear and active, and 
 he was accustomed to deal with difficulties in a 
 common-sense way. But now the smallest 
 trouble, the least thing which went wrong, 
 worried him quite beyond its true importance. 
 
132 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 and he magnified a trifling bother to the pro- 
 portions of a great misfortune. At first I was 
 not a Httle disturbed, but very shortly I grew 
 accustomed to it, and, full of myself, gave little 
 concern to the matter. 
 
 Miss Tennant was in constant attendance, pale 
 and mysterious as ever. The woman fascinated 
 me in a curious way. It was not attracted 
 by her, but I felt a kind of weird interest, as 
 though she were not quite mortal. She was 
 not perhaps very striking at first sight, although 
 her curious, cold whiteness should have been 
 remarkable. But by frequent contemplation 
 of her strange personality I came to observe 
 that she was a creature of superb beauty. Her 
 face, figure, and complexion were in every 
 respect perfect, and it was only her more than 
 statuesque coldness that prevented one from 
 seeing this from the first. I wondered within 
 myself whether a single passion were contained 
 within her, or whether all were there, sup- 
 pressed indeed, but if aroused likely to burn 
 with the fury of an oil-ship on fire. She was 
 ever watchful over my father, and he seemed 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 133 
 
 to have fallen most completely under her in- 
 fluence. 
 
 " I say, Winnie, what is Miss Tennant's 
 game ? " 
 
 Winifred looked at me in curious surprise. 
 
 " I should think any one with half an eye 
 could see," she answered. "But of course I have 
 seen much more of it than you. I forgot that." 
 
 " Does she think she is going to be our step- 
 mother ? " 
 
 " Does she think ! Horace, she will be as 
 sure as I am here, unless something happens 
 to prevent it, something unexpected and 
 tremendous." 
 
 *' Poor us ! " I said. 
 
 " It won't be poor me," Winifred answered 
 with defiance. " I shall take precious good 
 care of that." 
 
 '' How ? " 
 
 " By getting married," she answered. 
 
 This brought me an opportunity of getting 
 into a subject that I had found great difficulty 
 in speaking of. 
 
134 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 " That would be all right, of course ; but 
 Winnie, you are not going to marry Captain 
 Abinger, are you ? " 
 
 " Who said I was ? " she said sharply. 
 
 " Lots of people, if it comes to that. But 
 are you ? " 
 
 " Why shouldn't I, anyhow ? " 
 
 " Well, I— I don't quite Hke him." 
 
 " It doesn't seem to me that that matters, aS 
 you are not going to marry him." 
 
 " But it does matter. It would be horrid 
 of you, Winnie, to marry someone I don't like. 
 I don't want to lose you when you do marry." 
 
 " Moonshine ! " said Winifred. " You don't 
 like Captain Abinger because he clearly likes 
 me, while you wanted to have a hand in choos- 
 ing my future husband, and you had selected 
 someone else." 
 
 " I had selected no one." 
 
 " Yes, you had. But we won't discuss that. 
 It won't be yet awhile. We aren't even 
 engaged." 
 
 " Which implies that you have a private 
 understanding ? " 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 135 
 
 Winifred neither assented nor dissented. I 
 was sorry, because I had hoped for quite other 
 things. However, I knew my sister's character: 
 she was wilful, and any opposition would 
 be likely to make her do the very thing that we 
 wished to prevent. Moreover, I realized the 
 truth of what she had said, that I certainly had 
 arrogated to myself an imaginary right to have 
 a voice in the matter. And perhaps after all 
 I was wrong in my opinion of Captain Abinger, 
 who might be a much better fellow than he 
 appeared to me. 
 
 " But we don't know anything about Captain 
 Abinger," I continued quietly. 
 
 " We ? You don't, because you have never 
 troubled to find out. I do." 
 
 " What do you know ? " 
 
 " Look here, Horace, you had better go and 
 ask Bella. Captain Abinger is an old friend of 
 hers. He is of very good family, and, I under- 
 stand, well ofif ; but you can sympathize with 
 me in having refrained from making very par- 
 ticular inquiries on that point, considering the 
 present condition of affairs. However, you ask 
 Bella." 
 
136 A BIT OF A FOOi: 
 
 " I can hardly do that." 
 
 " You are thick enough with her in all con- 
 science," Winifred said with obvious intention. 
 " And if it comes to that, Horace, I don't feel 
 quite certain that it is exactly right of you to 
 go on in the way you do." 
 
 " What way ? " I said, feeling the blood 
 mount to my face. 
 
 " That way. You know she is married." 
 
 "I presume so. Anyway, she is your friend 
 first." 
 
 " I know, and I like her very much ; but all 
 the same — " 
 
 She did not say any more, and I was not 
 sorry to let the conversation drop, feeling that 
 I was likely to get the worst of it. 
 
 It was not long before I found existence in 
 my father's house becoming intolerable. The 
 Walcote estates were as beautiful in scenery 
 as any to be found in the midlands, but 
 I had no desire for beautiful scenery, 
 which was quite out of sympathy with my 
 mental condition. I bored myself to death, 
 and could take no delight in rural pleasures. 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 137 
 
 My disquietude of spirit reacted qo', the house- 
 hold. We were all inclined to be touchy and 
 peevish, and a hint thrown out one day that I 
 thought of going up to town for a fortnight or 
 so met with no opposition. 
 
 The only thing that served to detain me at 
 Walcote was the presence of Miss Tennant 
 Day by day I seemed to fall more under the 
 spell of her fascination, and that without 
 the exercise of any outward ^ffort on her part. 
 On the other hand I knew that the honours list 
 for Moderations would soon be published, and I 
 was especially desirous of being away from my 
 father at that time, fearing and indeed knowing 
 that I had not done well. In his present 
 condition it would have been impossible to 
 advance any specious excuse for my failure, and 
 the inevitable scene which I foresaw would 
 take place if I stayed, would probably end with 
 a quarrel. 
 
 Before I left I had a conversation with the 
 doctor, who came every day. 
 
 "There is not in my opinion any immediate 
 danger," he said; "but Mr. Manners is in such a 
 
1^8 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 condition that worry or excitement might induce 
 an unfavourable alteration, and it is impossible 
 for me to say now how it would end. I 
 hope, however, in a short time that he will 
 recover himself, if nothing happens in the 
 meanwhile to tip the scale in the wrong 
 direction." 
 
 This opinion more than justified my resolu- 
 tion to leave home for a time, for I felt that my 
 presence, in my unsettled condition, might give 
 cause of annoyance to a man in his touch-and-go 
 state of health. 
 
 In London I engaged rooms at a central 
 hotel, and the next day went to see the 
 Scovells. 
 
 I found only Colonel and Mrs. Scovell at 
 home. 
 
 " Egbert will be in soon," said Mrs. Scovell. 
 
 " I'm very glad you've come at this time," 
 the Colonel said, " because I should like to ask 
 you a question. I know, Manners, that you 
 are the boy's most intimate friend, and perhaps 
 you can tell me. Do you know if anything has 
 happened to him lately ? " 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 139 
 
 I did not. 
 
 " You don't think he is in debt or any kind 
 of scrape at Oxford ? " 
 
 I certainly knew of nothing. 
 
 " I couldn't think of asking him," he con- 
 tinued ; " but if it were so, of course we would 
 settle it at once. But you say no, and I expect 
 you would have heard of anything of the sort." 
 
 I asked what was the matter. 
 
 " That's just what we can't tell, can we, 
 dear? " addressing his wife. " He is very 
 much changed, and seems to be in an unsettled 
 state. He says he wants to leave the Univer- 
 sity and go into the army. Nothing would 
 please me more, but, as you know, he has up 
 to now firmly refused to do anything of the 
 sort, and we can't help thinking that there 
 must be some special cause for so sudden 
 a change." 
 
 Scovell had never hinted at it to me, and I 
 professed myself quite unable to assign any 
 cause for it. 
 
 " In that case, said the Colonel, " we must 
 put it down to a weakness for change of mind. 
 
140 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 inherited from his mother's family. She is a 
 wonderful example of it." 
 
 Mrs. Scovell only smiled benignly. 
 
 " It is a sign of greatness, as Mr. Gladstone 
 said, to change the mind," I observed with the 
 object of being polite. 
 
 " Gladstone ? " queried the Colonel. " Ah, 
 yes, I know, a political fellow. He doesn't 
 count." 
 
 Scovell came in soon. He greeted me just as 
 usual, but he had a worried, don't-care-much- 
 what-I-do look that was unusual in him. At 
 dinner, to which I stayed, he did not eat much 
 but drank a great deal, which made him flushed 
 and excited. 
 
 It was some time before I got the oppor- 
 tunity of speaking to him alone on the subject. 
 
 " Yes, well, I don't know," he said. " I seem 
 to be sick of Oxford, and fancy I should like to 
 be a military Johnny. But, as I say, I don't 
 know. Don't bother. What does it matter ? " 
 
 Later he said, — 
 
 " I'll walk back to the hotel with you." 
 
 We went. He insisted on having one, two, 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 14I 
 
 and three drinks at the Criterion. Then 
 suddenly said good night. 
 
 " I'm going for a prowl round," he added* 
 Evidently something had happened to Scovell, 
 and I imagined it might have something to do 
 with Winifred. If I had asked him, and it 
 were true, he would have denied it, I felt 
 certain ; therefore I was obliged to leave the 
 subject alone. 
 
 Next day I went to visit Nelly. Her circum- 
 stances had greatly changed. Instead of a 
 lodging at Brixton, she now occupied a largish 
 West-end flat, and had two servants and her 
 maid. 
 
 Nelly's maid was dressing her hair when 
 I called, but I was not kept waiting. After the 
 manner of the fashionable beauties of the last 
 century she asked me to come and sit in her 
 bedroom while her toilet was being completed. 
 She had altered a good deal in a month or 
 two. All trace of the rustic, simple girl had 
 vanished, and she had acquired the appearance 
 and manner of the hardened professional. I 
 was not sure at first whether the change was an 
 
142 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 improvement or not. When I was away from 
 her I always thought of Nelly as I remembered 
 her at Winchester, and the splendid creature 
 before me seemed to be another woman. 
 All the same, I was lost in admiration of her 
 magnificent appearance, and I flattered myself 
 that, for good or ill, I was responsible for her 
 making. I realized that it did me credit, from 
 a worldly point of view, and that I should gain 
 much in the estimation of the ordinary young 
 man of the day by my connection with this new 
 star of the lyric stage. 
 
 When we were alone she said, — 
 
 " I'm delighted to see you, old boy — I was 
 just thinking of writing to you." 
 
 " Were you ? What about ?" 
 
 " Why, I'm awfully hard up, and thought 
 you would send me something." 
 
 " Hard up ? " I exclaimed, looking round the 
 room, which was most delicately furnished, 
 and on her dressing-table which was scattered 
 with jewellery. " This doesn't look much like 
 being hard up." 
 
 " That's just it," she said ; " one has got to 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 143 
 
 do all this. You know, old boy, the poverty- 
 trick is no earthly use in my line. Unless you 
 can do yourself thoroughly well, managers 
 won't look at you. Do you remember that 
 notice we saw in the door-keeper's box 
 that day ? Well, that tells you what our 
 form is. If ladies receiving a less salary 
 than two guineas are not expected to drive 
 to the theatre in their broughams, ladies 
 receiving a greater salary than two guineas 
 are—" 
 
 " But you must be getting a big salary to 
 live like this." 
 
 " Fifteen a week — that's all at present. 
 It'll be fifty before I've done, but that's not 
 
 now." 
 
 « 
 
 " Look here, Nell," I said. " I know some- 
 thing about it, and I feel certain that you can't 
 do this on fifteen guineas a week." 
 
 " Of course not, else I shouldn't ask you, 
 dear boy, you may bet your boots. I'd never 
 ask you for another penny again, if I could 
 help it. I owe you too much already. But 
 
144 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 you'd rather I asked you than some other 
 Johnny, wouldn't you ? " 
 
 A pang of jealousy shot through me at these 
 words. 
 
 "Some other Johnny ? " I said coldly. 
 " Have you got many ? " 
 
 " What do you think ? Do you suppose the 
 managerruent pay me fifteen guineas a week 
 without being certain that they get good return 
 for it ? If I didn't have half a dozen chaps 
 who pay to come and see me, I should get 
 turned out jolly quick, you bet." 
 
 " Indeed," I said. 
 
 She jumped up, caught me round the neck 
 and kissed me. 
 
 " You jealous old donkey ! I don't care 
 tAat " — biting her thumb — " for any one of them. 
 I shall never love anybody but my old boy. 
 But as they have money to chuck away, they 
 may as well chuck it on me as on some other 
 girl. Don't you see ? " 
 
 " But they — they expect some return." 
 
 " And they get it." 
 
 "Nelly!" 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 145 
 
 " Rats ! They have the fun of flashing me 
 about and swaggering about their fortune 
 among their friends — and that's all. Don't 
 you believe me ? " 
 
 She kissed me again. 
 
 I could not justify myself in my sight — 
 mine ! — to be jealous, but I was. However, 
 Nell's kisses and assurances won the day^ as 
 they were bound to do, and she knew they 
 would. I had a hundred pounds saved with 
 which I intended to pay the first (and now 
 overdue) instalment of old Scarlett's bill. I 
 gave it to Nelly. 
 
 " Is that all you can manage, old chap ? " 
 she said rather disappointedly. 
 
 "All at present," I said, "but I'll see what 
 more I can do in a little time. I'm awfully 
 hard up just now myself." 
 
 " I'm a selfish little cat, a'n't I ? " she said 
 with provoking sincerity. " I don't want it 
 from my old boy if he can't spare it. But I 
 do want it badly. I did want a bit more, but 
 this will do for the present." 
 
 I assured her that I could spare that. 
 
146 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 " It would only have gone to repay a Jew," I 
 explained. 
 " A Jew ! He can go and eat coke." 
 
 Nelly was without doubt progressing in her 
 profession. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 It was now past the middle of July, and every 
 one was going out of town. I had made 
 several calls at the St. John-Elliots, and found 
 Bella just as I had left her last. She allowed 
 me to occupy the same place, a position about 
 equal to that of a tame cat, but I got no 
 further. I supposed that the limit of my tether 
 had been reached, and that I must rest content 
 3/vith the length of rope already allowed me. 
 Although my spirit did not rest satisfied with 
 this, my reason explained to me that some 
 bound had to be set, and it was best for me in 
 every way that it should be set where it was, 
 near enough to make it pleasant, and far 
 enough to prevent danger. It was certainly 
 better to enjoy the privileges I enjoyed than 
 
148 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 to risk the ruin of everything by pressing too 
 far. 
 
 I was permitted, so to speak, to stand just 
 within the gates of heaven, and the place 
 assigned me was infinitely preferable to being 
 put out and locked out, perhaps even thrown 
 into the infernal region. 
 
 One morning I got a letter from my sister 
 saying that my father seemed a little worse. 
 Something had occurred to worry him, but she 
 did not like to ask him what. 
 
 I had pretty nearly forgotten everything 
 between my joint attentions to Nelly and Bella. 
 On receiving Winifred's letter a terrible fore- 
 boding seized upon me. With trembling handa 
 I unfolded the morning paper and looked 
 hastily for " University Intelligence." There it 
 was, the honours list of Moderations ! I had 
 only got a third class. I was_not really sur- 
 prised. In light-hearted moments I hoped fou 
 a second, but my position came with no shock 
 to me. 
 
 What worried me now was the news about 
 my father. I had never thought of anything 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 149 
 
 except myself in this matter of the examination. 
 But I now saw that the annoyance at my 
 failure might have a serious effect upon him. 
 I freely cursed myself for being such a short- 
 sighted fool. 
 
 In this state I went to see Bella for consola- 
 tion. She was more than usually kind, 
 almost affectionate to me, and I supposed 
 that she was aware of my misfortune. To my 
 surprise it was not so, and when I told her 
 she only laughed and called me a wicked, 
 idle boy who would come to a bad end. I 
 don't think she grasped the importance of a 
 better or a worse class in a University exami- 
 nation. 
 
 " IVe had a letter from Winnie," she said> 
 shortly afterwards. 
 
 " What does she say ? " 
 
 " She says she is afraid your father is rather 
 worse. I am so sorry." 
 
 Once more this harping on my father's 
 health, and once more, not understanding it, I 
 put it down to kindness of heart. 
 
 This took place at afternoon tea. A few 
 
I50 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 visitors, mostly men, called, but soon left. A 
 telegram arrived. She read it, and then 
 said, — 
 
 " Will you stay to dinner, Horace ? Don't 
 mind about dressing. We shall be quite b}^ 
 ourselves." 
 
 I understood her to mean herself, Mr. 
 St. John-Elliot, and me. I accepted with 
 pleasure. 
 
 When dinner-time came, Mr. St. John-Elliot 
 did not arrive, and we went down alone. Only 
 two places were laid. She saw my look of 
 questioning. 
 
 " There is an important division expected to 
 take place to-night, and he can't leave the 
 House probably till very late. The twelve- 
 o'clock rule is suspended, as it is the intention 
 of the Government to pass their measure 
 through Committees, or whatever it is, and as 
 there is a good deal of obstruction anticipated 
 it may mean a very late sitting. That is the 
 misfortune of being a Member's wife. No 
 husband at home for half the nights in the 
 year. No wonder we are dull. Imagine you 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 151 
 
 are Mr. St. John-Elliot and take that end of 
 the table, please," 
 
 I felt inclined to make some appropriately 
 gallant reply, but the soup was now being 
 served, and a solemn butler acted as a damper 
 on any little efforts in that direction; though 
 to do the excellent fellow justice, he would not 
 have turned a hair if I had openly kissed 
 Bella. 
 
 It was late that night when I left the house, 
 feeling happier than ever before, for Bella's 
 condescention had come one step further down 
 the ladder. 
 
 This was the state in which I went to bed 
 and rose up in the morning. My spirits were 
 soon to be damped. On my breakfast-table 
 lay a fat letter, on the envelope of which was a 
 very shaky edition of my father's handwriting. 
 I will not reproduce the letter. It is enough to 
 say that he was in a towering rage, partly at 
 my failure, and partly at another matter which 
 was a veritable bolt from the blue. 
 
 No greater mistake can be made than in 
 calling a son by the same name and initials as 
 
152 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 his father. I do not say which of the two, 
 father or son, may suffer most from the error. 
 In this case it was the son. My father enclosed 
 a letter addressed to Horace Manners, Esq., 
 "Which I am afraid is intended for you. I 
 regret having opened it, for the opening of this 
 letter has been the opening of my eyes." 
 
 It was no less than a note from Mr. Scarlett 
 reminding me that the overdue instalment of 
 ninety odd pounds on my promissory note had 
 not been paid. 
 
 No greater misfortune could have happened. 
 It was useless to attempt to explain matters. 
 I thought over every possible excuse, equalling 
 in ingenuity Sidney Grundy's Arabian Nights; 
 but this was not a play, and I could not hit upon 
 anything which seemed to be of any use. 
 
 The concluding lines of the letter came as 
 the greatest blow. In his anger my father 
 reduced my allowance of looo/. to its original 
 500/. 
 
 But this was not all. A few days later I 
 received another letter. It was from the 
 College, and informed me that in view of my 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 153 
 
 complete failure to uphold, as I was bound as a 
 scholar to do, the credit of the College, it had 
 been decided at a meeting of the Dean and 
 Fellows to deprive me of my scholarship. 
 This information had also been communicated 
 to my father. 
 
 In the state of depression produced by so 
 much misfortune I was unable at all to enjoy 
 my ordinary pursuits. I did not dare go home. 
 I hardly knew what to do, but at last determined 
 to pack up my traps and take myself off to 
 Switzerland and indulge in a little Alpine 
 climbing. 
 
 By holding over the mstalment due to 
 Scarlett by an arrangement which I knew to 
 be iniquitous as against me, but of which I 
 did not even trouble to ask so much as the 
 details, I had enough money left for my 
 purpose if I practised economy. 
 
 I had hardly heart enough to say good-bye 
 to Bella, and did not dare go to see Nell. I 
 believe, poor girl, she would have dealt fairly 
 by me; but my courage failed me when I 
 thought that I should be obliged to tell her 
 
154 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 that I could hardly do anything for her in 
 future. 
 
 Once or twice I received overdue letters in 
 Switzerland saying that my father was in a 
 questionable state of health, but no actual 
 danger was apprehended. 
 
 But one day getting back to my hotel after a 
 hard climb, a letter from Winifred was handed 
 to me, asking me to come back at once as he 
 had taken a serious turn for the worse, and it 
 was doubtful if he could pull through. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 By the time I had reached England and 
 Walcote my father was dead. The end had 
 been very rapid. Death was due to softening 
 of the spinal marrow consequent upon influenza, 
 and aggravated by mental worry. This is one 
 of the most terrible sequalia of that insidious 
 and dreadful disease, which is the more fatal 
 inasmuch as the primary attack is often of so 
 mild a nature, that little or no notice is taken 
 of it. These are the cases that so often end 
 fatally. 
 
 I was far more shocked and emotional than, 
 to own the truth, I ever expected to be. No 
 great love, to judge by external signs, was lost 
 between myself and my father. For many 
 years we had hit it ofif together none too well, 
 
156 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 and if ever the idea of his death occurred to my 
 mind, it did not touch me greatly, and I felt 
 that my own grief could have full outlet in 
 keeping the ceremonial observances usual in 
 such circumstances. Yet, now that the blow 
 had come, and I realized that my father was 
 actually dead, I felt a grief that was really deep. 
 This only illustrates a fact which I have in the 
 course of my life of thirty years proved more 
 than once to be true: that the imagination is 
 quite unable to predict the actual feelings we 
 shall experience in any particular circumstance 
 of an important kind; often it quite over- 
 estimates our joy or our sorrow, while not 
 infrequently it fails completely to make any 
 approach to the force or nature of the emotion 
 that will be called out. 
 
 My sorrow was all the greater because I felt 
 that, in a certain measure, I was responsible 
 for the immediately exciting cause of his 
 death at this time. No doubt his nervous 
 constitution had become so much weakened 
 that he could not have lasted many years. 
 But with complete freedom from worry at 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 157 
 
 the period he might so far have regained 
 his strength that the end would have been 
 considerably postponed. My failure and my 
 extravagance, which perhaps would have 
 produced nothing but anger and resolute 
 action in a healthy mind, had been the cause 
 of baleful irritation to a nervous system 
 broken down by a disease which has been 
 responsible for more deaths than the most 
 malignant plague or destroying war. 
 
 For some time after the event, Winifred 
 and I lived in entire seclusion at Walcote, 
 neither receiving nor visiting any one except 
 the most intimate relations and family friends. 
 Miss Tennant also remained with us to take 
 care of the house, a position which she took' 
 upon herself without any request on our 
 part, but equally without any opposition from 
 us. 
 
 She — although it produced no visible change 
 in her white, icy demeanour — was also much 
 affected by the death of my father. Whether 
 it was that she had entertained a sincere 
 affection for him, or whether she was dis- 
 
15B A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 appointed of the attainment of a carefully 
 prepared scheme, I could not then possibly 
 have decided. She was at all times inscrutable, 
 and in the generosity of heart which sorrowful 
 emotion excites, I was quite prepared to 
 believe that we might, in the unconsidered 
 judgment of our youth, have wronged Bianca 
 Tennant in our estimate of her character. 
 A governess is never a heroine to her pupil 
 nor to her pupil's brother, nor is a person 
 employed to fill professionally the place of a 
 mother likely to command the admiration 
 of the children; especially if, as is this case, 
 she is a young woman, not old enough to 
 exact respect, nor young enough to attract 
 affection. 
 
 Bianca Tennant therefore remained with us 
 for the present. 
 
 Much of my time was occupied in settling 
 my father's affairs. He was a careful and 
 methodical man, and everything was in most 
 perfect order. But his fortune both in real 
 and personal estate was large, and it is not 
 needful to tell those who have had experience 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 159 
 
 of such matters that the amount of work and 
 personal attention involved is enormous in 
 such case, even under the pilotage of the 
 most skilful and painstaking of family 
 lawyers. 
 
 Being yet under age, I naturally had far 
 less to do than would have been otherwise 
 the case. But it was quite enough for a young 
 man who had had no experience of business. 
 The bulk of the work fell to the executors who 
 were also appointed trustees of the estate during 
 our minority. The trustees were Lord Pen- 
 nington and Mr. Brickwood Hague Temple. 
 Lord Pennington, who was my father's most 
 intimate friend, was a leader in the Home 
 Missionary movement. He was in every way 
 a most estimable gentleman, without fear and 
 without reproach. But the joint influences 
 of Temperance, Toynbee Hall, and Church 
 Extension made him none too lenient towards 
 the little peccadilloes of youth. In using the 
 word " peccadillo " I refer obviously to myself. 
 Another might have termed them vices. 
 
 Mr. Brickwood Hague Temple, whose name 
 
l6o A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 was not euphonious, was the family lawyer, 
 a man of substance, of importance; a solid 
 man, but as dry as the law of real pro- 
 perty. 
 
 I am sure the executors did their work admir- 
 ably and managed everything for the best, but 
 their extreme conscientiousness in carrying out 
 my father's wishes filled me with some appre- 
 hension for the future. 
 
 The real estate and the bulk of the personal 
 property came to me, and, all told, produced 
 an income of some seventeen thousand a year. 
 Winifred got fifty thousand pounds on her 
 majority or her marriage, whichever happened 
 first, and in the meantime an allowance of a 
 thousand a year. My allowance was to be 
 five thousand a year until I reached the age 
 of twenty-one, but — and this was the point 
 that caused me some uneasiness — the trustees 
 were given the power, if they thought fit, to 
 defer my majority until I reached twenty-five. 
 In that case I should have no power to deal 
 with the capital sum, and should receive 
 whatever of the interest on the capital 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL i6i 
 
 remained, after providing for keeping up th^ 
 estates properly, and paying certain other 
 standing obligations. This would consume 
 about five thousand a year, so that at most I 
 should get some twelve thousand, if the 
 trustees put their power in force. 
 
 My fears were not very deep, and were born 
 more of fancy than actuality. When I came 
 to think the matter 07er it seemed to me that 
 I should hardly be likely to spend more than 
 five thousand during the test year, when I 
 should be twenty-one, even if I indulged in 
 any reasonable extravagance, and thereupon 
 the trustees could find no reasonable ground 
 for postponing my majority. But yet I did 
 not feel certain. The trustees were stiff men, 
 and I thought that they might regard as very 
 sinful and wasteful the most ordinary of 
 youthful follies. 
 
 I went back to Oxford for the autumn term, 
 and I very soon discovered the change which 
 my new position had brought about. I was 
 naturally regarded as the master of a very 
 considerable fortune and a valuable property, 
 
i62 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 which was good security for any amount of 
 credit. All the tradesmen had become so 
 amiable and so pressing that the chief diffi- 
 culty was to select. As, however, to do so 
 would savour of unreasoning favouritism, I 
 settled the difficulty by giving them my custom 
 all round, and as none of them troubled to send 
 in an account, I had all I wished for any yet 
 found my allowance untouched. 
 
 Mr. Scarlett was too polite for words. I had 
 made up my mind to settle up \ with him at 
 once. For a time he positively refused to take 
 my cheque, declaring that the last thing in the 
 world that he wished to do was to trouble a 
 gentleman in my position, and if at any time — ■ 
 I cut short his interesting speculations by] 
 taking out my cheque-book and beginning to 
 fill up a cheque for the amount of his bill. 
 He stopped me doing so with the explanation 
 that, as the instalments had not been paid 
 punctually, there would be certain additional 
 sums by way of interest. I did not trouble to 
 understand the way in which these additional 
 amounts were computed, because it appeared 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 163 
 
 to be by some method which only an actuary 
 could manipulate with certainty ; but somehow 
 the capital advance, the prospective profit, and 
 the interim interests all got lumped together 
 and bore a further interest at a moderate 
 rate of five per cent, per month. The total 
 came to something like three hundred and 
 fifty pounds, and though this seemed to be a 
 fair profit on an advance of a hundred and 
 fifty in four months, he assured me that, bye 
 and large, he only made a paltry ten per cent, 
 on his transactions. 
 
 However, I paid him the cheque and was 
 glad to be rid of him, because I feared that 
 this affair might come to the ears of my 
 trustees, and would assuredly not influence them 
 in my favour. 
 
 In the Bullingdon Club I had enfranchised 
 the ladder at one bound and stood almost on 
 the topmost rung. The position was an 
 enviable one from certain points of view, 
 from the ground, for instance ; but as a 
 practical experience it was calculated to 
 produce gi g^iddiness which might provq 
 
i64 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 serious to the climber. As one was there, 
 one had to hold on to prevent a fall, and 
 holding on was rather trying work to an 
 income of five thousand. 
 
 These were the most enjoyable aspects of 
 the picture. On the other hand, the depriva- 
 tion of my scholarship, and the patent care- 
 lessness of my way of living incurred for me 
 the enmity of the dons, who never failed to 
 make me feel the weight of their authority. 
 I was always in some collegiate trouble, 
 frequently "gated, " and often publicly made 
 to feel small by the most pointed remarks 
 made to me in '' lecture. " 
 
 So irksome did they become in time that I 
 made up my mind to leave Oxford at the end 
 of the term, to shake the dust of the University 
 from my feet, to experience the new enjoy- 
 ment of being entirely my own master. 
 
 At Christmas I returned to Walcote, no 
 longer a son of Alma Mater. I by no means 
 regretted the time I had spent there, if only 
 for the friends I had made, and I was shrewd 
 enough to see that in after years, when the 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 165 
 
 precise details of my University career had 
 been forgotten by all except a few, it might 
 stand me in some advantage to regard myself 
 as an " Oxford man. " It is a term of sweet 
 vagueness, and without any addition carries 
 with it a scholarly flavour of " double firsts " 
 and " Craven Scholarships. " 
 
 At Walcote I found things pretty dull. 
 Winifred was there in a moping and irritable 
 condition, Miss Tennant was also there, cold 
 and proper as ever. It was too soon yet to 
 entertain friends at the house, and there was 
 practically nothing but shooting and hunting 
 to occupy us. I made an abortive attempt 
 to pose as a country gentleman, and interest 
 myself in the tenants. But this only bored 
 me, and I came to the conclusion that it was 
 not, as yet at any rate, my affair. 
 
 The only tenant who interested me was 
 spelled differently, and her other name was 
 Bianca. I used to amuse myself by watching 
 her, and her extraordinary character and 
 beauty took a strong possession of me. I 
 seldom saw her except when my sister wag 
 
I^ A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 present, and therefore I could not discover in 
 the least what were her feelings towards myself. 
 I only know that, while I was watching, I saw 
 — or rather, I was aware that she also was 
 studying me. She appeared to be just as she 
 had always been, and no visible sign betrayed 
 what, if anything, was taking place within her. 
 But yet I, and only I, knew that I was the 
 subject of her meditations. I cannot say that 
 this knowledge was altogether pleasant. But 
 in youth the spirit of adventure, the fascination 
 of the unknown, is always strong, and I was 
 irresistibly allured to a voyage of discovery 
 in the mysterious region of this woman. 
 
 My cousin Wynne, who had profited by my 
 father's death to the extent of a considerable 
 legacy, was staying with us. He was unable 
 to see anything remarkable about Bianca, as 
 she was now generally called. He said he 
 considered her a very pleasant, very pre- 
 possessing, and very intelligent woman, and 
 thought that her cold demeanour was due to 
 her somewhat strange position. From being, 
 so to speak, Winifred's governess, she had now 
 
TJNIVF.HS.TTY g 
 
 A BIT OF A FOOL 167; 
 
 to assume the position of companion, and the 
 difficulty of shaking off the sense of the old 
 relationship affected both us and her, so as to 
 make the transition difficult. I did not con- 
 tradict Wynne, who may have been right, but 
 I had my own opinion. To give Wynne his 
 due, he did not seem to experience the difficulty 
 which Winifred and I felt. He chatted freely 
 and made himself quite amiable to Bianca, and 
 she responded with the perfection of punctilious 
 politeness — but nothing more. Never for one 
 instant did she allow her individuality to peep 
 out from its beautifully polished shell. 
 
 One afternoon I returned about four o'clock 
 from a long tramp round the estate with my 
 gun. Winifred and Percy had gone down to 
 the village on some business or other, and 
 Miss Tennant was alone in the drawing-room. 
 She was sitting in the window-seat of the bay- 
 window looking fixedly before her, her hands 
 clasped tightly in her lap. The tea was on a 
 table near her, but it was untouched. I had 
 pulled off my heavy boots and put on a pair of 
 30ft slippers, and it was not till I had entered 
 
i68 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 well into the room that she saw me. She gave 
 a slight start, and then in her usual placid 
 tone, asked if I would have some tea. I 
 accepted, and took a place beside her on the 
 window-seat. 
 
 The light was fading fast, and we talked a 
 little while the dusk gathered. Suddenly a 
 strange impulse seized me to try if this woman 
 had any emotions within that impenetrable 
 exterior. 
 
 I caught her hand as it lay on her lap, and 
 turning towards her, — 
 
 " Bianca," I said, " why are you always so 
 cold to me ? " Can't you see that — that—" 
 
 I hesitated, partly of intention, and partly] 
 because no word would come easily. The 
 touch of her hand had made a tremulous 
 giddiness pass over me, which left me para- 
 lyzed. 
 
 She looked at me with inscrutable eyes for 
 ^,a moment, then, clasping me violently about 
 the neck, drew me towards her and bit my lip 
 till I could have cried out. 
 
 ^* Horace, I want you ! I will have you 1 " 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 169 
 
 she said in her throat, not relaxing her 
 bite. 
 
 I could not speak, and we remained so for 
 many seconds do not know what might 
 have happened, for the passion had mounted 
 up into my head and drowned all my reason. 
 
 At that moment the sound of Winifred and 
 Percy returning reached us. In a moment 
 Bianca was in her old position, and when the 
 lamp was lighted immediately afterwards, 
 nothing but an unusually briUiancy in her eyes 
 remained to indicate what had taken place. 
 Even I, as I looked at her, could hardly 
 believe but that I had dreamed it. 
 
 " Your lip is bleeding, Horace,'' Winifred 
 said. 
 
 " Is it ? My gun went off and kicked me in 
 the mouth," I said, as I wiped my lip with my 
 handkerchief. 
 
 When I went to bed that night, and thought 
 over this incident, I began to be afraid. I 
 called to mind the behaviour of Bianca since 
 the time when I first knew her, or took any 
 notice of her, and adding one small thing to 
 
170 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 another, I was forced to the conclusion that 
 her heart was set upon becoming the mistress 
 of Walcote. The more I thought, the more 
 certain did I feel that this was so, and it put 
 fear into me. I perceived that she was a 
 woman whose ambitions would carry her any 
 length, and whose powers of fascination were 
 so great that it would need a strong will to 
 resist. I had not a strong will. I did not 
 deceive myself upon that point, and I realized 
 that it would be dangerous, if not fatal, to 
 allow myself to come under her influence. All 
 the more that, since that kiss, I was possessed 
 with a burning desire for her, and was on the 
 point more than once of deciding to let myself 
 go and take my chance. She was, of course, 
 older than I, but the disparity was not great, 
 as she was probably no more than twenty-four 
 or twenty-five. She had always looked the 
 same for the past five years, and was of a kind 
 that would remain the same for the next ten 
 years. Therefore in that matter there was no 
 serious obstacle. All the more, then, had I to 
 beware of her. Luckily, Providence, in the 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 171 
 
 fotm of my other love affairs, came to my aid ; 
 I thought of Nelly, and more especially of 
 Bella, and the memory of them helped me in 
 my struggle against Bianca. 
 
 All the same, I was none too sure of myself, 
 and the only chance of escape lay in flight. I 
 spent many of the night hours in trying to 
 discover some means of getting away from 
 Walcote, and breaking up our establishment. 
 Although this would have been easy enough 
 to do, yet it lacked a decent excuse, and I 
 dreaded to allow anyone to guess, and Bianca 
 to know, the reason of so sudden a resolution. 
 
 The next few days I used every precaution 
 to avoid being left alone with Bianca. Al- 
 though I flattered myself that I managed it 
 with tact, yet I could not but perceive that 
 she was well aware of my purpose, and by this 
 she knew her own power. The chief difficulty 
 in the matter of leaving Walcote for any 
 length of time was Winifred. It would 
 neither have been quite " the thing " from the 
 world's point of view for her to stay with me 
 in rooms in London, nor quite convenient 
 
17:8 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 from my point of view ; and therefore as a 
 companion seemed to be required, there was 
 no reason for getting rid of Bianca. 
 
 From this dilemma a dea ex machina, in thq 
 form of Bella from her town house, came toi 
 deliver me. A letter was received inviting 
 Winifred to make a long stay with her. She 
 said she knew Winnie must be very dull, while 
 at the same time I was tied down. She there- 
 fore proposed that Winnie should come to her 
 and stay as long as she liked, while I was to 
 do as I pleased, stay with them whenever I 
 cared to do so, or go where it suited me, as 
 Winnie would be well looked after and properly 
 chaperoned. And there was a half hint that 
 it might perhaps be said that Miss Tennant, 
 although a most estimable person, she under- 
 stood, was hardly of an age or position to 
 chaperone a young unmarried girl. 
 
 There was much truth in what she said, 
 and after consulting with Winifred, who was 
 overjoyed at the prospect, we decided to 
 break up the establishment at Walcote, leaving 
 the care of the estate in the hands of a most 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 173 
 
 able steward, who had been selected by the 
 trustees. 
 
 I was far too much of a coward to tell 
 Bianca that we should not require her assist- 
 ance or company any longer, and I therefore 
 arranged to depart hurriedly from Walcote, 
 and let old Mr. Brickwood Hague Temple, who 
 would not turn a hair, break the news to her. I 
 also agreed to give Bianca a good lump sum 
 down as a mark of our appreciation, but the sum 
 I at first named was mercilessly pared down by 
 the trustees, who had not the same promptings 
 to be generous that belonged to me. 
 
 And so, in a short while the establishment 
 at Walcote was broken up : Winifred went to 
 the St. John- Elliots, I to chambers in Picca- 
 dilly, and Bianca to — I did not know where, 
 and only hoped that it might be a very long 
 way off. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 As soon as I had settled down in my new 
 abode, I set about enjoying a free life as 
 heartily as it was in me. I found it necessary 
 to belong to two or three clubs, not political, I 
 need scarcely say. To the better ones to 
 which I aspired some time had to elapse before 
 I could obtain election. 
 
 Being on a visit to the St. John-Elliots ouq 
 afternoon, I found Captain Abinger there. I 
 mentioned the subject to him. He told me 
 that there was a new club just formed which 
 was patronized by all the smart men about 
 town, but which still had some vacancies for 
 members. He himself was a member, and 
 would be happy to put my name up at once. 
 The name of the club was the Junior Turf. I 
 explained that I had had no experience of the 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 175 
 
 Turf, but he said that this would not matter in 
 the least — it was only a name — and any 
 omission on my part in the direction of sport 
 could very easily be put right during the ensuing 
 season. Indeed, he volunteered most good- 
 naturedly to show me the ropes, saying, with a 
 laugh, that this course would save me a good 
 deal of money and more temper. 
 
 Accordingly my name was put down, and in 
 a very short time, a few days, in fact, I was 
 duly elected. 
 
 I found the club fully to bear out it^ 
 description as a social club. Everyone knew 
 everybody, and there was none of the stiffness 
 to be found in some of the older and more 
 famous clubs. I immediately gained a dozerj 
 of friends and several score of acquaintances. 
 Some were young men of my own age or there- 
 about, some were men considerably older, of the 
 type of Captain Abinger. Everybody was very] 
 friendly, and wine bills ran high. Amusements 
 of many sorts were the order of the day. 
 Billiards and card-playing were the chief 
 recreations, while if anyone wanted to know 
 
176 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 anything or everything about horses from the 
 backers' or market point of view, he obtained 
 a Hberal education by Hstening to the smoking- 
 room conversation. In a very short time I was 
 well in the swim. I found myself engaged in 
 numbers of billiard matches for fair wagers, 
 sitting up till two — club closing time — at poker 
 or piquet in the card room, and carrying habit- 
 ually a betting book in my pocket. 
 
 One of the institutions of the club was a 
 ladies' afternoon. We professed to have im- 
 bibed modern opinions on the subject of women, 
 and no longer made the club the holy of holies 
 in which nothing female might set foot. I dc 
 not think, however, that the ladies' day was 
 quite the success it should have been. At first 
 members brought their wives or their sisters. 
 But other members began to bring other men's 
 wives and other men's sisters, with the result 
 that the appearances of blood relations became 
 fewer and fewer. This is the chief defect in 
 clubs of this nature which attempt to introduce 
 the feminine element. Women appear to be 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 177 
 
 unable to take the same social standpoint as 
 men. A man may belong to a club to which 
 other men, whom he would not be seen talking 
 to, belong, and yet lose nothing of his position. 
 With women it is different. Virtuous and 
 honest women (in the sense of Brantome^ are 
 unable to meet on the same ground women 
 upon whose character the breath of slander 
 breathes hard, without feeling that they are 
 thereby in danger of losing caste ; and difficult 
 as is this position to explain, it is still harder 
 to explain it away. It exists, and no one has 
 been clever enough yet to find its reason nor to 
 discover a satisfactory solution. 
 
 In the early days I used to invite Bella and 
 Winifred to tea on these afternoons, and wil? 
 not deny that I was very proud of the success I 
 made with them. My tea party was always an 
 object of great interest, and we had a large 
 circle of men about us. 
 
 Winifred at first enjoyed herself enormously 
 in all innocence, and Bella was clearly quite at 
 home. But one day when I had given the usual 
 invitation, Winifred said, — 
 
178 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 " I don't think I'll come to-day, Horace/' 
 
 " Why not ? " I asked. " Have you any 
 other engagement ? " 
 
 " No," she answered, " but — but I don't 
 think I quite care to, Horace. You don't 
 mind, do you ? " 
 
 I pressed her for further explanation, and 
 then the truth came out. She had been struck 
 by the appearance and behaviour of some other 
 women there, and did not like it quite. " In 
 fact," she said. " I don't think they were very 
 respectable." 
 
 I appealed to Bella for her opinion. 
 
 " Do you know, Horace," she said, " I think 
 perhaps it is not quite the place for Winnie. 
 Not to put too fine a point upon it, there were 
 two or three very notorious women there last 
 time — ' actresses ' I believe they would describe 
 themselves. It wouldn't matter for me, you 
 know, being married, but with Winnie it 
 is different. When she is married she can do 
 as she chooses." 
 
 I had not quite expected this tone from 
 Bella ; but I judged that she knew what she 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 179 
 
 was talking about, and that even the smart 
 set has its moral code, illogical though it 
 be. 
 
 I therefore ceased to invite them, and took 
 Nelly, who was as great a success as the others. 
 She was well known by appearance and name 
 to all the men in the club, and numerous were 
 the requests I received for a personal intro- 
 duction. By Nelly's advice I made a favour of 
 it, and selected the favoured ones according to 
 her instructions which were simple. 
 
 " It's no good introducing any Johnny to me 
 if he hasn't got plenty of * money,' " she said ; 
 " or unless he is thick with managers. The 
 others are very jolly boys, no doubt, but 
 they're not worth wasting time over." 
 
 I was sorry to see Nelly's mercenary side 
 developing so rapidly ; but she was quite open 
 with me, and this fact gave me confidence in 
 her integrity. 
 
 " Look here, boy," she said ; " you have been 
 the best friend a woman ever got or is likely to 
 get. I owe you everything, and I don't forget 
 it. You need have no fear about -me. But that's 
 
i8o A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 just the reason why I asked you what I did. 
 Business is business, and this is simply a 
 matter of business. It does me good to be seen 
 with these rich men after me. They have 
 plenty of money to chuck about, and will chuck 
 it on me so long as I let them. I treat them 
 all like monkeys on a stick, and don't care 
 ' that ! ' for any of them. It is a game of decep- 
 tion in which I am always the winner. But 
 if you saw me wasting my time with a man 
 who hadn't got any money to spend on me, 
 you might then have reason to be really 
 alarmed. There would be something in it 
 then. You're the only boy I love, and I'm 
 going to stick to you as long as you stick to 
 me. 
 
 There was clearly a great deal in what Nelly 
 said, and I was satisfied that she meant it. 
 The only fear I had was that, with her am- 
 bition, the offer to be made some day might be 
 too tempting for her to resist, and I dreaded to 
 think of losing her, for I was really very fond 
 of her. 
 
 If anyone should express any surprise at 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL i8i 
 
 my seeming inconstancy and inconsistency in 
 having two, if not more, women on hand with 
 both of whom I professed to be in love at the 
 same time, I can only say that either my nature 
 and his are very different, or he is humbugging 
 himself and trying to humbug others with some 
 old cant about the possibility of loving but one 
 and but once. 
 
 I declare my opinion now that the idea 
 is only romantic nonsense. There is nothing 
 else in human nature that acts in this single 
 manner. It would be as sensible to say that 
 because one liked strawberries, therefore one 
 could not also like pineapples and caviar. I 
 am not arguing that love is so simple a matter 
 as that of taste, or comparing the two from an 
 ethical standpoint. As a sensation it is far 
 more complex and indefinite, but for that very 
 reason it is more impossible to regulate it by 
 canons and codes. If it be impossible to argue 
 about and to give reason for a matter of taste. 
 a question of love is far more illogical and 
 unreasonable. It is a thing entirely personal, 
 and none but the lover can say if he loves. For 
 
18? A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 my own part I can only declare that I was 
 entirely and equally in love with Nelly and 
 Bella at the same time. Each in their own 
 way moved me with emotions that have no 
 other name but love to express them, and it 
 matters not at all whether it was a wise or 
 foolish, an innocent or guilty passion. 
 
 No native of a country where polygamy was 
 the custom would question the possibility of 
 being equally devoted to two wives, or more, 
 and while it would be a piece of stupid 
 arrogance to assert that the Eastern is less 
 capable of true love than the Western, it is 
 impossible to deny to the latter emotions as 
 comprehensive as those possessed by the 
 former. 
 
 The difficulty in the East is that the wives 
 live together in the husband's house, and thence 
 much trouble sometimes comes. The Western 
 custom is better, for as long as the devotion 
 of the man is in each case thorough, by 
 careful management the respective women need 
 have no suspicions to cause jealousies and 
 quarrels. 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 183 
 
 I fancy that I am only a fair specimen of 
 an average man, and I decline to believe that 
 there is in me anything extraordinary or 
 aberrated. I am perhaps merely rather more 
 candid. 
 
 I was very much devoted to Nelly, with 
 whom I held a more intimate relationship than 
 I occupied with Bella. The latter had yet to 
 be won, and I was not by any means certain of 
 ultimate victory. Indeed on account of certain 
 moral scruples in her case, I often deliberately 
 adopted dilatory tactics, and dreaded to risk a 
 decisive engagement. I knew that she was 
 fond of me to a certain extent, but I was 
 doubtful as to how far I might presume on 
 this affection. Whenever occasion served, she 
 permitted me to kiss her and to make love to 
 her, but she had as yet given me no arranged 
 opportunity to press my suit further. 
 
 One evening I went down with the idea of 
 seeing Winifred, to whom I had some matters 
 of family business to communicate. On arrival 
 I found Bella alone. She was lying on the 
 
i84 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 sofa, and a flavour of smelling-salts was in the 
 room. 
 
 " IVe got a most frightful headache, Horace," 
 she said faintly. 
 
 I went up and kissed her on the temples, 
 and she made no movement except to close her 
 eyes for a minute. 
 
 " If I hadn't, you would have found no one 
 at home," she continued. " We were going to 
 the Opera to-night, we three and Abinger. I 
 didn't like to disappoint Winnie, so I have 
 stayed behind, while the others have gone. I 
 thought Douglas would be quite sufficient 
 chaperon under the circumstances. I did not 
 know, till it was too late to wire to you, how 
 bad I should be. Stroke my forehead, will 
 you ? I think it will do me good." 
 
 I obeyed readily, and allowed myself the 
 delightful sensation of just brushing with the 
 finger tips her smooth satiny forehead, while I 
 stooped forward and drew in with slow long 
 breaths the scent of her hair. 
 
 We were silent for some time. 
 
 " I feel better already," she said at length, 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 185 
 
 " but I must keep very quiet, although I know 
 that the headache is past its worst, and will 
 go away in time. Salmon and champagne 
 never does agree with me. Go on strok- 
 mg. 
 
 The touch of her skin and hair was making 
 my nerves tingle with such irritability that 
 at last I was unable to forbear stooping down 
 and kissing her. 
 
 She smiled faintly. 
 
 " I'm afraid this isn't good for boys, and I 
 shall have to make you leave off." 
 
 I promised to restrain my feelings, and was 
 allowed to continue. 
 
 " I am rather glad of this opportunity to say 
 something to you, Horace, which I have wished 
 to say for some time." 
 
 I wondered what it might me, and felt my 
 heart beat faster. 
 
 " It is about Winnie." 
 
 I was disappointed, but contrived not to 
 show it. 
 
 " Yes ? " I said. 
 
 " You would have no objection to allowing 
 
i86 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 her to marry if she wished to ? " she said after 
 a pause. 
 
 " I wouldn^t interfere with Winnie doing 
 anything in reason, but who is the man ? " 
 
 " Say Captain Abinger." 
 
 She looked at me rather curiously, 
 
 I was in a dilemma. I did not know how to 
 answer, I disliked Abinger, and the idea of 
 Winifred marrying him was very distasteful. 
 But I knew that a close intimacy existed 
 between him and Bella, and I was fearful of 
 saying anything which might give her 
 offence. 
 
 " It is really, you know," I began with hesita- 
 tion, " a very awkward thing for me to say 
 positively in a case like this where the idea is 
 quite new to me. I — I — " 
 
 She checked me with a keen look, raising her 
 head a little from the pillow. 
 
 " Why don't you like Abinger ? " 
 
 That was very straight to the point, and I 
 felt tied up for an answer. 
 
 " I didn't say I didn't like him." 
 
 " It is quite obvious that you don't." 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 187 
 
 It troubled me to hear this, as I had been 
 under the behef that no one could have guessed 
 from my manner that I did not thoroughly 
 enjoy his society. 
 
 " To begin with," I said, " I realy know 
 nothing about him." 
 
 " But I do," she answered quickly. 
 
 " Yes, of course, but — " 
 
 " I see. I am not to be trusted. Please 
 take your hands from my head, it irritates 
 me!" 
 
 I obeyed sadly. 
 
 " I am good enough," she went on, " to take 
 your sister about and all that, but am not a 
 proper person to form a judgment in a matter 
 of this sort. If that is the case, we'll say no 
 more about it. I don't expect they will be 
 home till past twelve, so it is impossible to see 
 Winifred to-night. You had better call and 
 take her out to-morrow." 
 
 • I felt very much cast down, and saw the 
 fatal want of tact that I had displayed. 
 
 I tried to remedy the mistake. I protested 
 that I meant nothing of the kind ; that I knew 
 
i88 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 she had only Winifred's interests at heart ; that 
 she was the best possible judge ; and that far 
 from disliking Abinger, I thought him a most 
 delightful fellow, and should be very glad to 
 have him for a brother-in-law. In fact I went 
 a great deal further than I need have gone. 
 
 " Why didn't you say so at first, Horace? 
 You boys are so silly in not making up your 
 minds at once. If you have no objection, but 
 rather the opposite, there is nothing more to be 
 said." 
 
 " But," I urged, "Winnie never mentioned 
 this to me." 
 
 " No, naturally. She did not like to. She 
 asked me to break the ice. Abinger wanted to 
 come to you himself, but Winnie thought it 
 would be better for me to do it. Put a little 
 more eau de cologne on : my head is so much 
 better, that it will be all gone in a little time." 
 
 I obeyed joyfully, and once more the electric 
 touch made my blood boil. 
 
 " If you have nothing to do," — there was a 
 touch of under-meaning in the way these words 
 were said — "you might stay till Winnie comes 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 189 
 
 back. It is not strictly proper, perhaps, but 
 we'll risk that." 
 
 She looked at me, as she said these last 
 words, with eyes in which there hovered a spirit 
 of allurement, a will-o'-wisp, perhaps, enticing 
 me to perdition. I kissed her again. 
 
 She pushed my face away playfully. 
 
 " Now if boys are going to begin that kind of 
 thing, I shall have to send them home. It is 
 only if you promise to behave properly that you 
 will be allowed to stay." 
 
 I promised, and spent a couple of wonderful 
 hours like a tamest Tantalus willing to endure 
 through eternity. 
 
 Soon after twelve they returned, and ex- 
 pressed some surprise at seeing me. Captain 
 Abinger had left them at Covent Garden. 
 
 " Horace wanted to see you most particularly, 
 so I made him stop. And, Winnie, I have 
 pumped him on a certain subject, and he 
 makes no objection whatever. 
 
 " You dear old boy," said Winifred, kissing 
 me. " You make me so happy. I knew you 
 couldn't find it in your heart to refuse me. ' ' 
 
190 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 " How sweet and powerful brotherly love 
 is ! " said Bella to her husband. 
 
 " Ah, yes, very. How is your headache, my 
 dear ? " he said. 
 
 " Almost entirely gone." 
 
 " That's far quicker than usual. Those 
 soda-mint tabloids I gave you are excellent 
 things. I expect that is what did it." 
 
 " I expect so," Bella saii 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 In the course of the following morning, Abinger 
 came into the club where I was sitting reading 
 the Sportsman. He came straight up to me 
 and shook me by the hand in an effusive 
 manner. 
 
 " I shall never be able to repay you, 
 Manners/' he said. " I love your sister truly, 
 but I had hardly hoped to obtain your con- 
 sent. I'm a worthless sort of fellow, I know, 
 and lots of people say hard things of me. I 
 know now that you don't believe them. I 
 am going to prove to you, and to them, that 
 I'm not such a bad lot as I am made out." 
 
 These remarks came to me with some 
 surprise. As a matter of fact I had not heard 
 any harm, if I had not heard any good, of 
 Abinger ; and my dislike was inborn in myself. 
 
192 A BIT OF A FOOU 
 
 " I suppose/' he added, " that the trustees 
 won't make any difficulty ? " 
 
 I thought to myself that they might, but I 
 didn't think it necessary to say so. If anything, 
 I secretly hoped they would, and by this means 
 I should get all the credit and none of the 
 blame. I wished to advance myself in Bella's 
 good graces, and I felt that Abinger had con- 
 siderable influence in this directon. At the 
 same time I would have been glad if Winifred's 
 marriage could be put off for some time in the 
 hope that it might in the end not take place. 
 When I should attain my majority I should 
 become trustee for my sister, and there was 
 still some nine months to run before I was 
 twenty-one. 
 
 I told Abinger I could not of course say 
 for certain, but that I would use whatever 
 influence with them I possessed. I presumed 
 that the settlements would be satisfactory, 
 but I did not at present wish to enter into 
 questions of that sort. 
 
 " It's awfully good of you, I'm sure, old 
 chap," Abinger replied. '' I don't anticipate 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 193 
 
 any real difficulty on that score, but, as 
 perhaps you know, my solid property is mostly 
 in the nature of expectations or reversions, 
 and I only have my army pay and an allow- 
 ance — not a very great business altogether, 
 but sufficient for ordinary living with 
 economy." 
 
 I knew nothing of this, having never taken 
 the trouble to inquire into Abinger's affairs. 
 I was really curious to know exactly how 
 matters stood, but thought it best at the 
 present juncture to leave the matter alone. 
 Apart from simple curiosity, I took little 
 interest in the question. Of course I desired 
 that Winifred should be properly provided for ; 
 but I was born lazy, and I argued that if my 
 very hard-headed, not to say hard-hearted, 
 trustees were satisfied with the arrangements, 
 there could be no possible reason for any 
 objection on my part. 
 
 As far as I was concerned the matter was 
 at an end. The engagement was announced 
 publicly, and excited no especial notice. A 
 few of my friends and acquaintances in con- 
 
194 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 versation casually asked if it were true that 
 Abinger was engaged to my sister, and on my 
 saying, " Yes — why ? " replied, " Oh, nothing, 
 only I'd thought I'd ask you." I imagined that 
 this was mainly due to an interest that 
 Winifred had inspired in them, and the inquiry 
 was a way of ascertaining whether it was any 
 use pushing their intentions further with her. 
 My cousin Percy Wynne, however, went a 
 little further. 
 
 " What do you know of Abinger ? " he said. 
 
 "Nothing. He is a friend of the St. John- 
 Elliots." 
 
 " And what do you know of the St. John- 
 Elliots?" 
 
 " Nothing. They are people in a good 
 position in society. St. John-Elliot is very 
 well connected." 
 
 " And Madame—?" 
 
 " Is St. John-Ellot's wife," I answered. 
 
 My cousin looked at me hard and then 
 shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " Either you are a good actor or a bad 
 listener," he said. 
 
A BIT OF A FOOE 195 
 
 I asked plainly what he meant, being ready; 
 to champion Bella against any imputations. 
 I did not suppose for a moment that my 
 position with her was equivocal, or was other 
 than became a woman of unblemished repu- 
 tation. I was not more blind to the world's 
 point of view than others in my position, 
 knowing that our relationship had not ex- 
 ceeded the limit of morality. 
 
 " I am sorry I can't explain," he said. " If 
 you are really as blind as you pretend to be, 
 I can only advise you to be cautious. Only 
 don't be surprised if you hear things after- 
 wards." 
 
 " I should not be surprised at anything I 
 heard," I answered with an attempt at irony, 
 " but I should not believe it." 
 
 My cousin declined to be drawn any further 
 on the subject, and never referred to it again. 
 
 His hints, however, gave me something to 
 think of, and I freely confess that what I 
 thought was rather pleasant than otherwise. 
 I did not think of Winifred, having eased 
 myself of responsibility on that account. 
 
196 A BIT OF A FOOU 
 
 In the time that elapsed before Winifred's 
 marriage, Abinger was most friendly with me, 
 and Bella more than kind. The Captain was 
 always with me, and having made up my mind 
 to enjoy life, I began to do so under his able 
 guidance. There were few things that Abinger 
 did not know in this direction, and he took 
 infinite pains to make me acquainted with every 
 side of a life of pleasure, and found in me a 
 fairly apt pupil. His experience of racing was 
 immense, and as he belonged to that set 
 which is commonly known as the " clever 
 division," I brought off many good things, 
 and was able to indulge in the enjoyment of 
 plunging without taking any harm. As a card- 
 player Abinger was almost without equal, and 
 under his skilful tutelage I had the amusement 
 of playing high, and yet of coming no serious 
 cropper. 
 
 Once or twice during my initiation into 
 these things the thought of Winifred troubled 
 me for a moment, and I wondered what would 
 be her view of the situation if she knew as 
 much of the familiarity of her future husband 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 197; 
 
 witli these places of life as I. Sometimes the 
 idea occurred to me of saying something to 
 Abinger in my brotherly capacity. Yet I 
 reflected that to do so would savour of middle- 
 class narrow-mindedness with its methodistical 
 views on the moralities. 
 
 Perhaps something in my manner on one 
 occasion betrayed what was passing in my 
 mind, for Abinger himself referred to the 
 subject. 
 
 " I hope," he said with some sign of 
 hesitation, " that all this kind of thing doesn't 
 make you think the worse of me ? " 
 
 " Not a bit, my dear fellow," I answered 
 heartily. 
 
 " I thought not," he went on, " otherwise I 
 should have been a perfect fool to have taken 
 you through it. It shows my openness. If 
 I had wished to make you believe that I was 
 a goody-goody sort of fellow, I should have 
 done very differently. But I like to run 
 straight, and to let you see what I have been. 
 I don't think I am any the worse for it. On 
 th^ contrary^ I have ha4 my time, and know 
 
198 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 it all. It has no longer any fascination for me, 
 and I shall be only too glad to drop it for 
 ever, as I shall in a few weeks. Of course, I 
 know you won't say anything to your sister. 
 Women can't understand the man's position 
 in this matter. A man who has been through 
 it all, and has not gone to the dogs in the 
 process, is likely to make a far better husband. 
 It is the unknown that attracts, and the 
 innocent young man who marries in his 
 innocence is certain to go a mucker one day. 
 As for me, I'm sick of it. Never again. I 
 shouldn't be doing this now if it were not that 
 I wahted to arm you, Horace, against danger 
 from these things, and I know that no man 
 can or would pilot you through the shoals and 
 rocks as I. In a little while I could be of 
 no service to you, except by giving advice 
 which is not worth two-pence, so I made 
 up my mind that I ought to do it at 
 once, for I shouldn't like to see you come a 
 howler." 
 
 I was very much pleased with this caudour 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 199 
 
 on the part of Abinger, and my opinion of him 
 was raised rather than lowered. 
 
 Although, as I said, I did not come to any- 
 serious harm in learning my experience, which 
 IS generally such a costly article, all these 
 things could not be done without a good deal 
 of expenditure, and I found myself getting 
 lamentably short of money. Five thousand 
 did not seem to go as far as I imagined. 
 However, I could not hold my hand at the 
 present moment, and I made up my mind 
 to economize immediately after Winifred's 
 marriage. In fact, I formed an idea of going 
 abroad for six months, to get experience, and, 
 by living with great care, to economize until I 
 came into my property. 
 
 The trustees, to my intense surprise, made 
 not much difficulty about Winifred's marriage. 
 Abinger's expectations, which were consider- 
 able, as I learnt, appeared to satisfy them, 
 provided Winnie was prepared, as she was, 
 meanwhile to accept present conditions. 
 She would have fifty thousand pounds of her 
 
2O0 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 own, so that they would not be so badly off in 
 any case. 
 
 Just as Abinger had taken me, Bella had 
 taken Winifred in hand, and had initiated 
 her into the mystery of cutting a considerably 
 better figure in the fashion than one's actual 
 income might appear to warrant. She had 
 advised her to keep absolute personal control 
 over her fifty thousand pounds, and not to 
 have it put in trust. As she pointed out, an 
 occasional big splash with economical intervals 
 was much more effective than a continued 
 cramp due to a moderate income. This, an 
 entirely personal control of the money would 
 enable her to effect, and, in addition, she had 
 only to tide over the time till Abinger should 
 come into his expectations, when she would 
 be really well off. 
 
 In due time the wedding took place. Of 
 course, Winifred was married from the St. 
 John-Elliots', and to my surprise all the 
 newspapers chronicled it as a very fashionable 
 wedding. This was in July, and coincided 
 with almost the end of the London season. 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 201 
 
 Whole crowds of people of whom I did not 
 know anything came, and Winifred received 
 magnificent presents from almost strangers, 
 which was duly mentioned in the papers. 
 
 And so Winifred and Abinger drove away, 
 and in due time the guests departed. 
 
 " You will stop and dine with us, won't 
 you, Horace ? " Bella said, glancing towards 
 her husband in between the words. 
 
 " Very pleased if you will," he said. " I 
 shall — er — have to go up to the House to- 
 night, the Government expect an important 
 division." 
 
 " Oh, nonsense, Douglass," Bella said, almost 
 petulantly. "Your vote won't make any differ- 
 ence to the Government." 
 
 " Suppose everyone thought the same, my 
 dear. Duty, you know — " 
 
 "Well, go and get it over, and come back 
 early, then." 
 
 " Fm afraid that is not within my dispensa- 
 tion. The twelve o'clock rule has been sus- 
 pended, and it may be late before the division 
 is taken. But when I get up I will send 
 
202 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 you a message as to how late it is likely to 
 be/' 
 
 "Do, please," Bella said, " I don't want 
 to sit up half the night for you." 
 
 " But you needn't sit up, my dear." 
 
 " Somebody must, I suppose," Bella an- 
 nounced, with resignation. 
 
 " I hardly think so ; but I'll tell you what. 
 If it is likely to be very late, I'll arrange for 
 a bed at a hotel, or at my club." 
 
 " No, no, don't do that. I don't in the 
 least mind sitting up, Douglas." 
 
 " I think it would be better, my dear." 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 ** Don'I? forget that message, Douglas," 
 said Bella, as her husband started off to the 
 House of Commons after dinner. 
 
 In the time that had passed, the St. John- 
 Elliots seemed to have become so intimate 
 with me that I regarded them more in the 
 light of relations than of mere friends. It 
 might have been expected that I should have 
 gone back to town with Mr. St. John-Elliot, 
 but, although I watched carefully for the 
 least sign that it was time for me to take my 
 leave, I saw none. For myself, I professed 
 to remain passive. I should not, of course, 
 have been such a fool as not to act on the 
 slightest possible hint, but at the same time 
 I was not going to deprive myself of an 
 evening's amusement and the opportunity of 
 
204 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 being alone with Bella by any unnecessary 
 action on my part. I thought once of rising 
 as if to go, and of giving them or either of 
 them the opportunity of asking me to stay, 
 but I saw the risk of doing that in time. If 
 Mr. St. John-EUiot did not ask me to stay, 
 Bella could hardly do so without making the 
 request stand out too conspicuously, and I 
 decided to wait at least a little while and find 
 out what she intended. I waited, however, 
 in vain for any word from her, and so 
 determined to continue waiting, and even to. 
 feign a density of observation unless the 
 request were put very plainly. 
 
 We wandered for an hour about the garden 
 in the cool of the evening, and discussed the 
 day*s doings. Little romantic as I was, I 
 felt a certain dullness, a certain emotional 
 heaviness when I thought of my sister. We 
 had always been the closest of friends, and 
 though I did not intend to be parted from 
 her for very long, yet I knew that I had lost 
 something. 
 
 Perhaps also, now that it was done, I did 
 
A BIT OF A FOOH 205 
 
 not feel quite confident that I had done well 
 in not opposing her marriage with Abinger. 
 No doubt my opposition would not have 
 prevented it, but I was aware that such 
 objection on my part had been expected, and 
 that Bella had taken some trouble to over- 
 come my scruples. It was therefore probable 
 that there was something to be smoothed 
 over if only I knew what it was. This caused 
 me a sense of uneasiness which I could not 
 quite shake off. 
 
 Bella herself seemed also a little low- 
 spirited, but this might have been nothing 
 more than the reaction from the excitement of 
 the day. 
 
 " Horace, you're gloomy." 
 
 " So are you." 
 
 " Yes ; I didn't think I should feel losing — 
 Winnie so much." 
 
 There was a slight halt before saying the 
 word " Winnie.' 
 
 " I feel it too," I said ; " but I'll try and be 
 more cheerful. After all, if they are happy, I 
 fail to see why we should be depressed." 
 
2o6 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 ** No," Bella said. 
 
 "I wonder," I said it in all innocence and 
 for no purpose except to talk, " how they are 
 enjoying themselves." 
 
 Bella looked at me between the eyes for a 
 moment and then, with a little laugh, said, — 
 
 " Come indoors, it is getting chilly." 
 
 We walked towards the house in silence, 
 and I saw that something was passing in her 
 mind, for she did not speak any more, and 
 her eyes looked thoughtful. It gave me the 
 opportunity of observing in silence the real 
 beauty of the woman, and I saw how the 
 marks of the knowledge of a few years and of 
 London life might, as in this case they did, 
 add to the fascination of a pretty face. 
 Innocence has a charm for older men because 
 they feel that they are competent instructors, 
 and that the pleasure of teaching is in their 
 power. The younger man is charmed with 
 the idea of learning. This was my case ; I 
 felt that Bella knew all that it was worth 
 woman's while to know, and was able to 
 enchant me in ways unknown to a girl. 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 207 
 
 We went to Bella' sitting-room. It was 
 a cosier room than any other room in the 
 house, and everything about it was soft and 
 pleasant. Moreover it had a subtle scent, one 
 of those scents that recall memories to the 
 end of one's life, which brought to me a more 
 perfect realization of Bella's actual presence 
 than even the sight or the voice of her. It 
 was the same scent that exhaled from her 
 hair, and which in the case of every woman is 
 something peculiarly personal. Many amorous 
 poets have sung of it, and every lover, be he 
 good or not, knows it. And being a short 
 while in this room I began to lose any strong 
 sense of the actuality of outside things. 
 Bella and Bella alone began to dominate 
 my reason, and I was ready to fall into any 
 sort of folly for her. 
 
 I sat here in wilfully foolish happiness and 
 talked every kind of nonsense of which I was 
 capable. She did not resent it, and only 
 called me a silly boy. She allowed me to 
 take her hand, and play with her fingers. 
 
2o8 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 twisting and changing the rings on them and a 
 hundred other stupidities. 
 
 A servant, knocking at the door first, 
 entered with a note which a boy messenger 
 had brought. Bella read it. 
 
 " Your master will be late to-night. Bring 
 the whisky and my tea in here, and tell 
 them they can go to bed at the usual time. 
 I will sit up," she said ; then turning suddenly 
 to me, " You mustn't go till you have had 
 a glass of whisky and soda or something of 
 that sort." 
 
 " It is rather late," I said, with a show 
 of hesitation, " but—" 
 
 " Never mind. To-day is a special occa- 
 sion." 
 
 The things were brought. 
 
 " I shall not want anything else," Bella 
 said. 
 
 When the servant had gone, Bella said 
 nothing. She poured out my whisky, and I 
 in return poured out her tea. 
 
 " I'm going to treat you like one of the 
 family, Horace." 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 209 
 
 She got up and went to her bedroom and 
 came back in a most seductive dressing-gown, 
 and I could see by the suppleness of her 
 figure where the sash was tied that she 
 had made herself comfortable by taking off 
 her corsets. She carried in her hand a pair of 
 dainty down-lined slippers. 
 
 "Take off my shoes for me, there's a 
 good boy," she said, tossing me the slippers. 
 
 I needed no second request. 
 
 When that was done she leaned back 
 easily on the sofa, and taking her tea, with 
 an alluring look in her eyes, tossed me the 
 note she had received. 
 
 I opened and read the note. 
 
 " Division not expected till 4 o'clock. Shall 
 sleep in town." 
 
 When I looked up she still had the same 
 inviting smile. 
 
 I hardly knew what to make of it, but 
 throwing all prudence, all the last remnants 
 of my moral scruples to the winds. I made 
 up my mind to go as far as she would allow 
 me. 
 
210 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 " You may kiss me, Horace." 
 
 I kissed her rapturously. 
 
 "My darling!" I said. 
 
 She looked up at me. 
 
 " Do you mean it ? " 
 
 " Yes, Bella." 
 
 " So do I," she whispered as she put her 
 arms round my neck. 
 
 She was quiet for a while, and presently 
 I saw a troubled look come over her race. I 
 feared a bit of repentance — which proved that 
 I did not know Bella yet. 
 
 I asked her what was the matter. I should 
 be sorry to have to write the exact words I 
 used. I am afraid they were couched in 
 that style which makes us blush for lovers' 
 folly when read out in the chilling atmosphere 
 of the law court, when elderly men and 
 women address each other in language which 
 fond mothers use to their babies, or children 
 to puppies, — when " you " becomes " oo " or, 
 more often " it." 
 
 And Bella answered me in the same man- 
 ner. 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 211 
 
 Nothing shall induce me to set it down 
 truthfully, and the following conversation is 
 not phonetic, but merely conveys the sense of 
 what we said. 
 
 " I want some money, Horace." 
 
 I was startled. The request was entirely 
 unexpected. I imagined the St. John-Elliots 
 to be well off. They had the reputation of 
 being so, and I had never seen anything to 
 suggest any doubt of it. " Some money " was 
 a vague phrase, but I guessed that some 
 meant what I should call much. It was 
 impossible to think that Bella could be in 
 want of ten or twenty pounds. And then it 
 came upon me with a sense of miserable 
 discomfort that I had very little money left 
 from my allowance, seven or eight hundred 
 pounds at most upon which I had to exist 
 for some six months. 
 
 " Do you ? " I asked foolishly enough. 
 
 " Yes ; I must get some somewhere, and I 
 preferred to ask you." 
 
 I accepted the compliment with real vanity. 
 
 " Willingly," I said, " if I can manage it. 
 
212 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 But I have been spending rather too much 
 lately, and — " 
 
 " If that's the case," she answered rather 
 more coldly, " pray don't trouble any more 
 about it. I only thought that you would 
 rather I should ask you than — someone else." 
 
 The sting took effect. My jealousy was 
 pricked. 
 
 " Of course, Bella. Please don't misunder- 
 stand me. Anything I have is yours. I only 
 wish I were twenty-one ! How much do 
 you want ? " 
 
 " A thousand will do." 
 
 It nearly took my breath away. Something 
 in my look must have betrayed me. 
 
 " Is that too much — for me ? " she said. 
 
 This woman knew how to wound with every 
 Jword. 
 
 " No ; but I haven't got as much at present. 
 iWhat can I do ? " 
 
 She bit her lip in silence. 
 
 " Won't your trustees let you have more ? " 
 she asked at length. 
 
 I told her my reasons for not wishing to 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 213 
 
 ask them. Any sign of undue extravagance 
 would give them a reason for deferring my 
 majority. 
 
 " I see," she said. " You must manage it 
 some other way." 
 
 I was to manage ! The admirable effron- 
 tery with which she assumed this condition 
 took away from me all power to resist. I 
 wondered what her husband would say if he 
 knew it. She seemed to read my thoughts. 
 
 " Douglas is so much absorbed in his 
 wretched politics," she said, " that he can't 
 pay attention to me. He doesn't give me 
 enough, and if I asked for more, the poor 
 man would have a fit. He doesn't understand 
 what it means to keep up with one's set. 
 We're not really well off, you know, and — 
 well, things have got rather tight. Anyhow, 
 I must have the money, somehow." 
 
 I did not see what I could do. I told her 
 my exact position. 
 
 " Then you will want some money too 
 before long You will have to borrow some. 
 That's easy enough." 
 
214 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 " I daresay," I said, " but, unfortunately, 
 I don't know anyone." 
 
 She lifted her eyebrows a little. 
 
 " If you intend doing it, I can help you. 
 You have met Reggy Vane ? " 
 
 " I met him here first, and he is a member 
 of my club." 
 
 " Ask him.' 
 
 " What ! " I said. " He hasn't got money 
 to lend, I know." 
 
 Bella laughed aloud. 
 
 " Of course not, you silly. I didn't mean 
 that. Tell him what you want. You needn't 
 mind. He won't say anything to anyone. 
 Have you ever heard him mention such a 
 thing ? " 
 
 " Never." 
 
 " And yet," she continued, " I suppose he 
 finances half the men in your club. Ask him 
 to-morrow, will you ? I want it soon. You 
 had better get enough for yourself, too, you 
 know." 
 
 " I'll ask him to-morrow." 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 215 
 
 " Dear boy," and she gave me the sweetest 
 kiss in the world. 
 
 " I must go now ? " I said, more in query 
 than in affirmation. 
 
 " Not yet, not till I have told you some- 
 thing," Bella said. 
 
 " What ? " I asked. 
 
 She looked at me out of swimming eyes that 
 made my senses stupid. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 My man had to call me three times before I 
 could wake myself up next morning, and it 
 was half-past ten before I was sitting down to 
 breakfast. A walk from Barnes to Piccadilly 
 in the early July sunlight is exhilarating at 
 the time, and I never felt more fresh and 
 lively than when I arrived at my chambers. 
 Any idea of sleep seemed far away, and I do 
 not think I should have got into bed at all, 
 but that I could not think of anything else to 
 do at that hour. I knew that I could not 
 sleep, and took a French novel to read. 1 
 remembered no more until I became dimly 
 aware of a knocking at my door, and soon 
 after of someone moving about the room. I 
 had some dim fancy that somebody ought to 
 get up, but it didn't seem to concern me 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 217 
 
 particularly. Twice again this happened, and 
 it was the words, "ten o'clock, sir," that 
 brought me to a realization of the things of 
 this life. I remembered that I had to find 
 Sir Reginald Vane this morning, and that he 
 was generally to be caught about eleven 
 o'clock at the Junior Turf. After that time it 
 was doubtful where he might be, and not a 
 living soul, except himself, could have said 
 for certain. 
 
 I therefore hurried over my breakfast, and 
 went down to the club. I discovered Vane 
 in the reading room, looking through the 
 Sportsman. I was glad of this, as it gave 
 me the opportunity of getting into conversa- 
 tion with him easily. I cannot deny that 
 I felt nervous at approaching him on the 
 subject of the loan, and nothing but Bella's 
 assurance that he would take it as a matter 
 of course would have induced me to do so. 
 He looked so well-groomed, so well-to-do, 
 so self-contained as he sat there, that I 
 wondered what interest he could possibly 
 take in another man's money troubles. He 
 had always been very friendly to me, but we 
 
2i8 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 were not friends. The more I thought of 
 the matter, the more I found out that we 
 were the merest acquaintances, and my first 
 diffidence was augmented enormously when 
 I pictured the possibihty of getting prettily 
 snubbed for my presumption. Reggy Vane, 
 I knew, was very well connected, being the 
 cousin of a duke through his mother, who 
 had done no better than marry a baronet, 
 and a poor one at that. But if, as a fact, he 
 was not well off in the matter of income, it 
 was the more likely that he made up for it 
 in pride, and, considering these things, I 
 found the greatest difficulty in making a 
 beginning. 
 
 Going towards the window where he was 
 sitting, I nodded, and asked some casual 
 question about the day's racing. He replied, 
 and we entered into a discussion of our 
 respective fancies, in which I had the good 
 sense to defer my unripe opinion in favour 
 of his mature experience. This seemed to 
 please him in a mild way, and I felt that we 
 were at a better understanding than we had 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 219 
 
 hitherto reached in our social contact. 
 Nevertheless, I seemed to be as far as ever 
 from the object with which I had sought his 
 companionship. 
 
 *' Would you care to go in for a little 
 flutter ? " he said, at length. " I know of a 
 very warm thing, if you do." 
 
 I answered that I had not intended doing 
 anything to-day, not having been able to pay 
 much attention to racing matters for the past 
 few weeks. 
 
 " It's of no consequence," he said, with 
 extreme politeness. " If you had cared about 
 it, I might have been able to put you on to a 
 good thing, that's all." 
 
 Of course I would not resist the temptation 
 of knowing what it was. 
 
 "All right," I answered, " Fll have a try. 
 Are you doing anything yourself ? " 
 
 " No," — he looked at me very straightly — 
 " I can't afford it at present. But if you 
 like it, and care to risk an extra fiver — for 
 me ? " — he paused as if to watch the effect. 
 
 " WiUingly," I said. 
 
220 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 ^^Fil d'or for the forty-second Biennial. I 
 don't say it will win this time for certain. 
 It depends whether the stable get on at their 
 own price, but I have heard that the com- 
 mission has been worked very quietly. Keep 
 it to yourself, please, if you will — don't forget 
 me. 
 
 I thought that I saw a chance of working in 
 my request. 
 
 " Thanks, awfully, I'll wire it at once. I'm 
 afraid I shall not be able to risk more than 
 twenty for myself — " 
 
 Reggy Vane raised his eyebrows as if in 
 mild surprise. 
 
 " It's a pity," he said. 
 
 " I have no doubt it is, but, to tell the truth, 
 I am very short just at present, and I shall 
 be in a tight place soon — unless I can raise a 
 bit somewhere." 
 
 He never moved a muscle, and I was almost 
 afraid to go on. 
 
 " My case too," he said. 
 
 This was a damper. If it was his case, I 
 failed to see how, as he could not assist 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 221 
 
 himself, he could assist me. However, the 
 thought of Bella spurred me on, and the ice 
 was so far broken that no snub could amount 
 to much. Indeed, after what had occurred, he 
 was bound to be polite. 
 
 " I suppose," I said hesitatingly, "you don't 
 know anywhere where I could get some stufi 
 for a few months. You know," I continued 
 rapidly, " I come of age in January, and, 
 meanwhile, I have rather outrun the con- 
 stable." 
 
 " How much do yout want ? " he asked, 
 without manifesting the very least surprise. 
 
 " I thought about a couple of thou." 
 
 " Better make it five." 
 
 " My dear Vane," I said with a laugh, for 
 I was afraid he was fooling me. " I don't 
 suppose anyone will be such a fool as to lend 
 line five. Are you serious, or joking at my 
 expense ? " 
 
 " I don't play jokes of that sort," he answered 
 with a slight chilliness, " it wouldn't be good 
 form, would it ? " 
 
 " But — " I explained, not knowing what 
 
222 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 further to say without floundering into some 
 tactless speech. 
 
 Vane cut me short. 
 
 " Look here, Manners, we'll make it a matter 
 of business, if you like. If I get you five, can 
 you spare me two-fifty out of it ? If it makes 
 you more as ease, we'll call it commission at 
 five per cent." 
 
 Bella knew what she was talking about. 
 
 " Gladly, my dear fellow. It would certainly 
 make me more comfortable if we regard this 
 as business." And certainly I felt that it 
 would. If ever, at some other time — but I 
 dismissed the idea. If I was going to plunge 
 on this occasion, it would be my last, and I 
 promised myself to be strictly economical for 
 the future. 
 
 Vane looked at his watch. 
 
 " Are you doing anything for an hour ?" he 
 asked. 
 
 I was not. 
 
 " I shall find you here, then ? Very good." 
 
 He went towards the door. " By the way," 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 223 
 
 he added, coming back, " don't forget Fil d'or 
 and — make my lot a pony, will you ? '' 
 
 I nodded. Vane left. I wired to my 
 " bookie " to put me on Fil d'or for a hundred. 
 Then I tried to read the papers, with poor 
 success, constantly catching my thoughts 
 wandering to other things, to Bella first of all, 
 and next to Nelly, from whom I had a letter 
 in my pocket making a proposal which had 
 troubled me a few hours before, but which now 
 I began to consider in another light. She 
 wanted to take out a provincial company oil 
 her own, and asked me to back her to the 
 extent of a couple of thousand pounds. I 
 should be certain, she said, to get my money 
 back, with interest, as she was sure of making 
 a big success. I now began to consider 
 seriously whether I could manage it. Nelly 
 had never given me any actual cause for 
 jealousy, but I did not feel quite so certain 
 as to what she might do in case I was obliged 
 to refuse. She was an undoubted success in 
 London, and had many admirers: and I knew 
 that it would not be difficult for her to get the 
 
224 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 money from someone else if I could not let 
 her have it. I believed that she wished to 
 be faithful to me, but at the same time I feared 
 that in a contest between ambition and her 
 honour — not to say her love — the former would 
 have the victory. 
 
 While I was meditating these things, Vane 
 returned. 
 
 " Have you done that ? " he asked calmly. 
 
 " Yes. Have you ? " 
 
 He handed me a card. 
 
 " If you will call there at eleven to-morrow 
 morning, I think it will be all right." 
 
 The card read: — 
 
 MR. JAMES SALMON, 
 
 Jermyn Street. 
 
 Office Hours, lo — ^4, 
 
 I lunched at the club, and later in the 
 afternoon drove over to see Nelly at her house 
 in St. John's Wood. I found her lying in 
 a hammock in the garden, and a loud-looking 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 225 
 
 man of about forty sitting in a garden chair 
 near her. She greeted me enthusiastically, 
 and soon the man took his leave. 
 
 " My proposed business manager," Nelly 
 said by way of explanation. I had asked no 
 question, but clearly Nelly considered some 
 excuse necessary. 
 
 " Look here, dear old boy,'* she said, " I'm 
 bent on this idea, and I knew you wouldn't 
 like me to ask anybody else but you first." 
 
 There was a touch in the word " first " that 
 went home. 
 
 " Of course not," I replied. 
 
 "Well, what I want," Nelly went on, "is 
 two thousand down for working expenses, and 
 a guarantee of five thousand. The guarantee 
 will only be nominal, but I can't get good 
 people to support me unless they know there 
 is enough money behind the show. We shall 
 make a thundering big success for certain, and 
 you shall have a quarter share of the profits. 
 I want half, and my manager will want 
 another quarter, so you see we can't give you 
 
226 A BIT OF A FOOE 
 
 "You'll do it, I know," and she gave me a 
 full kiss. 
 
 " I'll tell you to-morrow, I suppose that will 
 do?" 
 
 " Hang it all, old man ! " she exclaimed in 
 disappointment. " You can't expect to keep 
 me hanging about like that. You must know 
 whether you will or not." 
 
 "My dear Nell, I've got to find the two 
 thousand. It isn't so easy as you imagine to 
 pay down two thousand ready.^' 
 
 " Oh, bosh ! I know lots of fellows who 
 would be only too deHghted to be allowed to 
 do it. It's a bit mean of you, old man." 
 
 I was getting somewhat annoyed at her tone. 
 
 " I think you had better give them the 
 opportunity, then," I replied, with what was 
 intended to be blighting sarcasm. 
 
 " Don't fluster yourself, or I may take you 
 at your word. If you imagine I'm going to 
 stand any nonsense of that sort, you're very 
 much mistaken." 
 
 I knew that Nelly was getting the best 
 of it. An absurd jealousy seized me. 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL -127 
 
 Her threat was doubtless too easy to 
 carry out, and my pride exacted a faithfulness 
 from her that I was far from maintaining 
 myself. But on that point I consoled myself 
 with the thought that the same standard of 
 morals could not be applied to men and 
 women. I was not willing to lose Nelly. I 
 was really, as already explained, very fond of 
 her, and the idea of her belonging to anyone 
 else filled me with the very greatest abhorrence. 
 Yet I realized that I could only retain her 
 by allowing her to have her own way in this 
 matter. 
 
 " For goodness sake, don't let us quarrel, 
 Nell," I answered. " You have misunderstood 
 me. I merely meant that I could not find the 
 ready cash before to-morrow. Of course, I 
 agree to do it — for you — " 
 
 The "for you" was intended to be very 
 effective. It failed completely. Nell took no 
 notice of it, but merely said, — ■ 
 
 " Why the devil couldn't you say so at 
 once, instead of Jooling about in that manner ? 
 That's ^U right, then, Ypu'U have some tea ? " 
 
^2$ A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 The servant was at that moment bringing 
 the table out into the garden. 
 
 I went back to the club to dine. On the 
 way I bought an evening paper. Fzl d' or had 
 won his race, starting at the nice little price 
 of ten to one in a field of only four runners. 
 Evidently Vane's racing information was of 
 the innermost. I had bagged a thousand, 
 seven hundred and fifty for myself, and two- 
 fifty for Vane. He was evidently a valuable 
 acquisition and cheap at the price I was 
 paying. I did not see him again that evening. 
 
 Next morning at eleven o'clock I was in 
 Jermyn Street. I soon found Mr, James 
 Salmon, more popularly known as Jimmy 
 Salmon, in his office, or, shall I say rather, 
 chambers. I was shown by an aristocratic 
 clerk into a room most handsomely furnished, 
 something between an office and a study. A 
 magnificent Persian carpet; great easy leather 
 chairs and sofa ; a splendid writing table fitted 
 with every convenience, and quite one of the 
 most perfect things ever produced by the 
 Shannon File Company ; a f;ne gilt clogk ; 
 
A BIT OF A FOOU 229 
 
 large Japanese enamel vases ; everything 
 expensive and luxurious. And yet it all had 
 such a look of austere discomfort that I 
 could not myself have lived in the room an 
 hour. There was only one small book-shelf, 
 and the most auspicious books upon it were 
 the Post Office Directory, Debrett's Peerage, 
 and the Civil Service Calendar. There was 
 also, in one corner, a massive safe. And 
 nothing else whatever. I had only a few 
 minutes in which to observe these things when 
 from an adjoining room a man entered. I 
 recognized him at once for Jimmy Salmon. A 
 large, ample-stomached man of fifty ; hair, 
 whiskers and moustache turning grey ; dark, 
 deep-set eyes beneath bushy eyebrows ; thick 
 gold watch chain and big diamond ring on the 
 third finger ; dark clothes, and a very full- 
 rigged frock coat. There was something in the 
 setting of his eyes, in the hang of his nose, in 
 the thickness of his lower lip, which made me 
 quite certain that his name on the Register of 
 Births — I was nearly writing of Baptisms — 
 was Jacob Solomon. " James Salmon " was 
 
230 
 
 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 one of those euphemisms by which Moses 
 becomes Morris, David Davis, Barnabas 
 Barnett, and Levi Lewis. 
 
 He addressed me with a good-humoured 
 famiharity, a bonhomie which would have been 
 quite prepossessing if it had not been rather 
 overdone. 
 
 " DeHghted to make your acquaintance, 
 Mr. Manners," he said, holding out a fat 
 hand. ** Have a cigar ? " 
 
 From the cupboard of his desk he brought 
 out a fine brand of Bock y Bock and offered 
 me the box. 
 
 " I don't know how you feel," he continued, 
 "but I could just do with a little pick-me-up, 
 The Goldsmiths' Company do one a little 
 too well, eh ^. " " He rang the bell and his 
 clerk appeared. " Just bring two glasses and 
 a bottle of Koch fils — you like it dry ? Were 
 you at Sandown yesterday ? No ? I was. 
 Why couldn't someone have told me about 
 Fil d'orf As it was I dropped a bit over that 
 race, about five hundred. Did pretty well 
 on the whole, though," 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 231 
 
 I let it out that I had backed the horse 
 named . 
 
 "Indeed! Ah, you know something, young 
 gentleman!" this with a sly wink. "Next 
 time you have a soft thing like that on, don*t 
 forget Jimmy." 
 
 I did not think it necessary to mention how 
 I got the tip. 
 
 " Well, now," he said, when we had finished 
 the bottle, " about this little matter, you 
 want—" 
 
 " Five thousand," I said as calmly as I 
 could. 
 
 " Five thousand, yes. You're under age, 
 I believe, a little ; six months, I think. 
 
 He seemed to know all about me. 
 
 " I fancy," he continued, " if I remember 
 your father's will rightly, that your guardians 
 have power to postpone your majority if they, 
 see fit." 
 
 " They won't do that," I interrupted. 
 
 " No, h — m, h — m ; of course they won't. 
 But they have the power, that's all. It merely 
 makes the risk a little greater — risk, of coursei 
 
232 A BIT OF A FOOL' 
 
 in the strictly mercantile sense. You see, 
 Mr. Manners, I'm bound to consider things 
 in this way. Of course I know there's no 
 risk really. I'm dealing with a gentleman, 
 and I'd rather take a gentleman's word than 
 a banker's draft." 
 
 I could not help noticing the hyperbole. 
 
 " Suppose, then, we say a bill at six 
 months. What would you consider a fair 
 amount ? " 
 
 I did not know. I said that he was the best 
 judge. 
 
 "Ten thousand wouldn't be too much, I 
 suppose ? " 
 
 I made a wry expression at the amount. 
 
 " My dear young gentleman," he said, 
 " you must not forget that you are under 
 age." 
 
 " You don't imagine I shall repudiate it ? " 
 I said rather indignantly. 
 
 " Of course not, of course not ; but I am 
 bound to take the fact under consideration." 
 
 These facts were evidently g,n expensive 
 luxury in my case. 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 233 
 
 " It's only six months/' I said ; "I should 
 have thought that six, or say seven thousand 
 would be about right." 
 
 " Couldn't do it my dear young sir," and 
 he closed and locked one of his table drawers. 
 
 I thought of many things — of my promises 
 to Bella, to Nelly, and to Vane, let alone 
 the fact that sooner or later I should be 
 in very low water on my own account. I 
 remembered that, at the worst, there was a 
 good lump of income that had accrued in 
 the past year, in excess of my allowance, 
 which would anyhow come to me whatever 
 my trustees chose to do. And on that score 
 I had no fear, when I remembered how very 
 easy they had been in the matter of Winifred's 
 marriage. Beggars cannot be choosers, and 
 there was nothing for it but to accept the 
 offer made. 
 
 ^* I'm not a hard man," Jimmy said, " and 
 when the time for payment comes, we'll see. 
 But I can't afford to ruin myself, can I ? " 
 
 I failed to see how he was ruining himself, 
 but did not reply to his question. 
 
234 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 " Very well," I said, but when I turn up 
 in January with the money, I shall expect — " 
 
 " You'll find Jimmy a man of his word, 
 Mr. Manners. I said we'll see." 
 
 Ten minutes later I came out into the 
 sunlight in Jermyn Street with Jimmy's 
 cheque for five thousand in my pocket. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 This was not the last visit I paid to Mr. Jimmy 
 Salmon. Good resolutions with a fellow of my 
 sort always lead to bad results. No sooner 
 had I made the resolve referred to than I 
 hankered to break it, and, as I seldom denied 
 myself anything that I wanted, and that I 
 could obtain, a few months only elapsed before 
 I had need of the assistance of "Jimmy" a 
 second time. It was not to be wondered at. 
 Out of the five thousand which I had, three 
 thousand went at once, one to Bella, and two 
 to Nelly. I had intended to live economically 
 on the remainder until the end of the year. I 
 meant to go abroad for a few months, and on 
 returning to go down to Walcote and try oncQ 
 more to interest myself in the welfare of its 
 tenants and to lead a rural life. Of course all 
 
236 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 these plans went to the wall. What I actually 
 did was very different. 
 
 In the first place I found Bella's fascination 
 to be stronger than I had thought. I imagined 
 at one time that when once I was her accepted 
 lover I should care less about her, and that the 
 passion, being satisfied, would soon die away, 
 I was mistaken. Now that I was her lover I 
 was more infatuated with her than ever. I was 
 quite preposterous, and chafed so much when I 
 was away from her that my visits, and my only 
 too obvious attentions, passed the limit of discre- 
 tion with even so blind a husband as she had. 
 
 She had to warn me more than once, and at 
 last threatened to put an end to the liason 
 unless I was more careful. 
 
 " You seem to forget, Horace, that I at least 
 have a character to lose, and a position. I am 
 very fond of you but I am not a fool. If you 
 can't behave decently when Douglas and other 
 people are about, I shall forbid you to come 
 here at all." 
 
 I was very humble and promised to behave 
 better, so she did not carry out her threat. 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 237 
 
 But it was just this forbidden and dangerous 
 position which provoked my passion for her* 
 Perhaps she knew that. Had I been her 
 husband I have little doubt that I should have 
 tired of her in a week, and bitterly repented my 
 bargain. 
 
 But she was by no means cold to me when 
 occasion served for another course of conduct, 
 and opportunity came very shortly. The .-^ 
 session was prolonged unusually late, and Bella) 
 went away by herself to North Wales, where 
 her husband was to join her subsequently. 
 At the same time I found it convenient to go 
 abroad, but when I started, by some aberration 
 of intellect, ordered the cab to drive to Euston 
 instead of Charing Cross. The St. John- 
 Elliots had taken a house at Colwyn Bay, and, 
 strange to say, I found myself staying at 
 Llandudno. It was a curious coincidence* 
 Parliament was prorogued at the end of August, 
 and about that time I went to stay with friends 
 in Scotland. By that time I had " lent " Bella 
 another thousand. 
 
 Returning to town in the Autumn — on my 
 
238 A BIT OF A FOOE 
 
 way to Walcote — I received rather a shock. 
 This was the news that Nelly's tour, although 
 an artistic success, had not succeeded finan- 
 cially, and I was called upon to make good my 
 surety of three thousand. Under these cir- 
 cumstances there was nothing for it but to 
 apply again to Mr. Salmon, who was very 
 obliging, at a profit. 
 
 These events set me seriously thinking 
 whether I could not make a little money in 
 some way. 
 
 Wynne, whose mother had recently died, 
 leaving him a few thousands, had " gone into 
 the City." It was the only chance, he said, 
 nowadays of making money. I suggested that 
 he might keep his eyes open for me, and if he 
 saw an opportunity, let me know, as I would ba 
 willing to risk a speculation. 
 
 Some days later I received a note from him. 
 
 " Can you manage to look in some time 
 to-day or to-morrow ? I think I have found 
 something." 
 
 I had nothing particular to do, so I went" 
 3own the same morning. He had an office in^ 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 239 
 
 a great block of buildings off Cornhill. Just as 
 I was standing in the entrance reading the 
 hundred odd names in order to find Wynne's 
 floor and number, a woman passed me on her 
 way out. I recognized her instantly. It was 
 Bianca Tennant. I do not think she saw me, 
 at least she gave no sign of having done so. 
 For a moment I hesitated whether to follow 
 her or not, but before I made up my mind 
 she had disappeared among the crowd in the 
 street. Then I cursed my slowness in seizing 
 the opportunity. This woman had always 
 fascinated me, and though I was afraid of 
 her, and believed that I had made an enemy 
 of her, yet I had not lost my interest, and I 
 was just in the careless mood born of trouble- 
 some circumstances that would have led me to 
 take any risk with a light heart. For a 
 moment it flashed upon me that she might 
 have been to see Wynne, and yet I put the idea 
 away as a mere coincidence. A hundred 
 business men, and their clerks, inhabited this 
 rambling honeycomb of offices, and Bianca 
 might have had transactions of some sort 
 
240 A BIT OF A FOOi: 
 
 with any of them. Nevertheless I determined 
 to tish in these waters. 
 
 After some trouble and several inquiries of 
 men whom I found to be strangers to the place 
 equally with myself, I discovered Wynne's 
 office. He was in. 
 
 " Fm glad you've come, Horace. This is a 
 little business which we must get into at once 
 if it is to be any good." 
 
 He then told me. A company, for some 
 purpose or other, it does not matter what, was 
 just being floated. Wynne knew one of the 
 Directors, who had told him in confidence that 
 they were going to put the shares up to three 
 or four premium directly the thing was on the 
 market. It was a mere speculation affair, and 
 it was probable that the company, as a trading 
 concern, would never pay a dividend. But 
 that was another matter altogether, and did 
 not concern us. 
 
 " Now, what can you gamble ? " Wynne 
 asked. 
 
 " I intended having a fling with a 
 thousand." 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 241 
 
 " Two and six on application, and two and 
 six on allotment," he replied, " then we can 
 safely apply for four thousand. Are you 
 game ? I don't think there is much real 
 risk. Even if they can't put the shares as 
 high as they think, we can always get out at 
 par." 
 
 This seemed safe enough, and I consented. 
 I drew two cheques for five hundred each. 
 
 " Have you ever seen Bianca Tennant 
 since ? " I suddenly asked. 
 
 Wynne turned towards me quickly, and 
 there was a slight flush on his face. 
 "No. Why?" 
 
 " I saw her as I came into the building. 
 I don't think she noticed me," I answered. 
 
 Wynne laughed. 
 
 " She might have come to see me," he said. 
 " Do you know, Horace, I thought at one 
 time you were rather sweet in that direction. 
 She is really a very pleasant person." 
 
 Very pleasant person ! It was impossible 
 that any man could have been holding recent 
 communication with Bianca Tennant and 
 
242 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 could speak of her in this way. She was a 
 woman that one must either love or hate. I 
 came to the conclusion that the flush which 
 I marked on my cousin's face was due to the 
 extreme abruptness of my question. 
 
 I saw nothing more of Wynne for some 
 days. He told me in a letter the shares had 
 all been allotted. I looked up the company 
 from day to day in the financial newspapers. 
 The first market quotation for the shares was 
 four shillings. Then there was a very un- 
 pleasant article and some letters about the 
 company, and the shares went to one shilling, 
 and then to sixpence. On that day Wynne 
 called upon me unexpectedly. He said he 
 was awfully sorry about it, but a powerful lot 
 of " wreckers " had got hold of it, and he 
 advised me to get out at any price, before 
 another call was made. So I gave him 
 selling orders, and next day I received a 
 cheque from him for one hundred pounds, 
 representing four thousand shares at sixpence 
 a share. Within a month the shares were 
 quoted at three pounds, and there had been 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 243 
 
 no call — the first dividend of the company 
 was thirty per cent. Wynne afterwards 
 told me that he had bought up some of the 
 shares when they were at sixpence, but he 
 did not like to tell me to do the same, as 
 he supposed that I had lost all faith in his 
 advice, the first speculation having turned 
 out so disastrously. I had a feeling that I had 
 been " done " somewhere, but I could not 
 blame Wynne in the matter, as although he 
 had oflFered his advice, I was quite at liberty 
 to have followed it or not as I pleased. 
 
 In the autumn Winifred and her husband 
 returned to town. They took a furnished 
 house in Mayfair, and I was often there. 
 Winifred seemed fairly happy. As time passed, 
 however, more and more often, when I 
 dropped in in the evening, I found her alone, 
 Abinger having gone out to the club or 
 somewhere. I said nothing at first, and 
 Winifred said nothing to me. But one day I 
 made remark, — 
 
 " Is he out very often like this ? If not, I 
 am singularly unlucky in meeting him." 
 
244 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 Winifred looked away. I thought I de- 
 tected the rise of water to her eyes. 
 
 " Dear me, no," she answered, in a forced, 
 off-hand manner, ^' but you don't expect us to 
 play at being lovers always like children, do 
 you ? " 
 
 The answer was not at all convincing. 
 
 " Look here, Winnie, does he treat you 
 properly ? " 
 
 She looked at me in a half-defiant manner. 
 
 " I have everything I want," she said. 
 
 " And rather more," I added. 
 
 It was true. I, of all people, was not an 
 ascetic. Yet, even to my extravagant tastes, 
 the way the Abingers lived was superfluous. 
 I could only suppose that my esteemed 
 brother-in-law had or acquired much more 
 money than anyone supposed, and had 
 recently touched his fortune. Whenever I 
 saw him at the club or at race meetings, he 
 was gambling and betting at much higher 
 figures than usual, and he never seemed to 
 want for ready money for any extravagance. 
 However, as Winifred did not desire to tell 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 245 
 
 me anything, I left the subject alone. I 
 could not, however, get rid of it so easily 
 myself. It cropped up most unexpectedly. I 
 was in the billiard room of the Junior Turf 
 one day, and the conversation of several 
 members turned upon a high game of ecarte 
 that had taken place the night before, in 
 which Abinger was concerned. Young Fred 
 Grove, a nice little fellow, was near me, and 
 quite unexpectedly said to me in a low 
 tone, — 
 
 " I suppose your sister had a good bit of 
 money ? " 
 
 For a moment I felt uncomfortable, and 
 half-inclined to resent it as an impertinence ; 
 but I did not suppose he intended that ; so I 
 laughed, and said, — 
 
 " Oh, pretty fair." 
 
 This was merely an example of what was 
 often happening 
 
 One day in Piccadilly I met Scovell. I 
 had not seen him for some time, but that 
 was not surprising, for he was with his 
 regiment at Aldershot. 
 
246 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 " I was going to look you up to say good- 
 bye/' he said. 
 
 " Good-bye ! Why, where are you off to ? '* 
 
 " I have exchanged into a regiment which 
 is in India. I am sick of this country, and 
 want to get away. I shall like England a 
 great deal better when I am out of it." 
 
 " What a queer chap you are. When do 
 you go ? " 
 
 " I sail Saturday. I doubt if I shall be 
 able to see you again. Say good-bye to your 
 sister for me. I'm sorry she married Abinger. 
 Good-bye." 
 
 I stood still for a moment. Of course, I 
 knew that he was in love with Winnie, 
 and I was awfully sorry that she had not 
 preferred him. But there was something in 
 his tone which betrayed a deeper concern 
 than mere personal regret. 
 
 "I'll tell her," I said, "but I think she is 
 happy enough." 
 
 " Is she ? I am glad." He paused as if 
 in doubt whether to say more ; he overcame 
 his scruples. " Look after her well, Horace. 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 247 
 
 I have reason for what I say. Good-bye, old 
 fellow, don't forget.'* 
 
 And he walked away with a quick step. 
 
 I felt extremely uncomfortable at Scovell's 
 words. I knew he was no fool, and that he 
 was really fond of Winifred, and I, therefore, 
 was not stupid enough not to see that his 
 warning deserved serious notice. I deter- 
 mined to visit Winifred more regularly, and 
 to keep my eyes open. I was not sorry 
 when a little while afterwards I heard that 
 she had invited an old school friend to stay 
 with her. This was Helen Forester, who, 
 like Winifred, was an orphan, but, unlike her, 
 had been left very poorly off. Winifred had 
 persuaded her husband to let her friend stay 
 with her as companion for some time, and he 
 had offered no serious opposition. 
 
 I remembered Helen Forester slightly as a 
 little girl with her hair down her back, but 
 my school-boy eyes had not remarked any- 
 thing unusual about her. She was a girl, 
 and that was all. I was surprised when I 
 saw her again now, for she was one of the 
 
248 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 most beautiful women I had ever seen, 
 beautiful in its best sense. Out-of-doors, 
 among a crowd, she merely looked a very 
 pretty girl, but it was one of those faces that 
 grow upon one with study, a face of artistic 
 beauty that does not depend for its loveliness 
 on accessories. It was a face capable of 
 infinite change, equally charming under any 
 condition, seeming to suit all styles and all 
 moods : trim and neat, or untidy and 
 degagee; the simplest of morning gowns, the 
 most elaborate of evening toilettes ; a Burne- 
 Jones Princess, a Van Beers Cocotte — no 
 matter how, when, or where, this face was 
 always beautiful. 
 
 I was greatly struck by her, and she 
 gave me an additional reason for calling on 
 Winifred more frequently than before. And 
 curiously enough, after such a visit I gener- 
 ally went back to my chambers, and smoked 
 and read or mused till bed-time, instead 
 of going to Bella's or Nelly's or to the 
 Club. 
 
 So time passed, and the eventful day was 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 249 
 
 approaching when I should be of age and enter 
 into my property. 
 
 A few days before I received an unexpected 
 visit from one of my trustees. As I was 
 having breakfast my servant announced Mr. 
 Brickwood Hague Temple, and the old lawyer 
 walked in. 
 
 *' Pray, don't get up, Mr. Manners ; please 
 go on with your — breakfast," he hesitated 
 and looked at the clock. It was eleven- 
 twenty. 
 
 " I think I overslept myself a little," I said, 
 laughing . 
 
 " Up late, I dare say," said the old gentle- 
 man. 
 
 " Can I offer you anything ? " I asked, 
 not wishing to pursue this line of conversa- 
 tion. 
 
 " No, no, I thank you. At least," after a 
 pause, " I might have half a cup of tea, if it 
 is hot." 
 
 It was hot. I had only just sat down. 
 
 " I suppose," I said, rushing right into the 
 matter at once, "that I o^ye this visit to the 
 
250 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 final arrangement that will have to be made 
 about the property." 
 
 " Exactly so exactly. You remember your 
 father's will. Perfectly ? Then you will know 
 that there is a clause empowering the trustees, 
 Lord Pennington and myself, in our discretion 
 to put back your maturity for a year or more, 
 until even you have attained the age of twenty- 
 five years." 
 
 I began to feel uncomfortable. 
 
 " Not needlessly to prolong this interview," 
 he continued drily, " from certain information 
 that has come to our knowledge we do not 
 consider that you have shown that ability to 
 administer this property, to regulate ex- 
 penditure, to — in fact to manage your own 
 affairs prudently which would justify us in 
 handing over this fortune, so carefully 
 husbanded by your esteemed father, at the 
 present time. We have, therefore, agreed to 
 keep the control of the capital and to provide 
 for the proper maintenance of Walcote for 
 another two years." 
 
 My face dropped. 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 251 
 
 " But—" I expostulated. 
 
 " It is useless to discuss it, Mr. Manners ; 
 we have not acted precipitately. I can assure 
 you it has given us considerable anxiety. 
 This being the case, it will serve no good 
 purpose to argue the matter further. You 
 must bear in mind that there are other 
 interests beside yours in this property. I will 
 not detain you longer. Good morning." 
 
 I was too much perturbed by this news to 
 utter another word, or to make any attempt 
 to stop him. 
 
 For some time I was completely dazed. 
 Then some of his words repeated themselves 
 again and again in my mind — " Other interests 
 beside yours." What did he mean ? Suddenly 
 a light dawned. Wynne ! Could it be that 
 my cousin had been carrying tales in his own 
 interest ? I found it impossible to believe ; 
 and when my first stupefaction gave way, I saw 
 quite plainly that I had no one but myself to 
 blame for this. I was neither diplomatist 
 nor hypocrite, and it was easy enough for 
 anyone whom it might concern, to find out all 
 
252 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 about me. I had gone blindly on in a fool's 
 paradise with the usual result. 
 
 I found myself now in a very awkward 
 place. I was no longer under age, and my 
 creditors began to press. True that I had 
 twelve thousand a year now, instead of five, 
 and some seven thousand in hand as the 
 surplus over my allowance. But this would 
 not go far if I attempted to pay up all my 
 creditors. Jimmy Salmon alone held my 
 notes for twenty thousand, but if I could settle 
 matters with him, I could pay off nearly all 
 my other creditors. 
 
 This is what I did. Jimmy was most 
 obliging, contrary to my expectations. I gave 
 him fresh notes for twenty-five thousand, and 
 he considerately offered to let me have any 
 reasonable sum beside that I might require. 
 However, with an income of twelve thousand 
 I thought I ought to do, and declined his 
 offer for the present. 
 
 I was so delighted at this result that I was 
 obliged to mention it to Reggy Vane when an 
 opportunity occurred. 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 253 
 
 Vane looked at me hard. 
 
 " Manners," he said, " you're a bit of a mug. 
 If you don't mind me saying it. Of course he 
 was obliging. He couldn't have recovered a 
 penny on the other money because you were a 
 minor when he lent it you. Now he can. By 
 the way, whenever and if ever you go to Jimmy 
 again, you might let me know, will you ? And 
 the amount ? Thanks ! it is absolutely con- 
 fidential, but — it might do me good." 
 
 42jaD»»rt*wt»»-» 
 
 ir' 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 In face of the fact that Abinger was clearly 
 becoming neglectful of my sister, he pressed 
 his attentions on me more than ever. He 
 was always seeking my company and asking 
 me to join him in some affair which as a 
 rule involved the spending of money. He 
 appeared to be an exaravagant man, throwing 
 away, as it seemed, money on all sorts of 
 things, and betting and playing for high stakes. 
 Yet, knowing that his present resources were 
 limited, I came to the conclusion that this 
 was more an appearance than a reality, and 
 that, somehow or other, he got it back in 
 other ways. 
 
 I was anxious to learn how this was done. 
 For myself I found that in keeping pace 
 with him I got through my income, and a 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 255 
 
 bit more, with great ease, and yet was aware 
 that I by no means looked to cut such a 
 showy figure as my brother-in-law. 
 
 I was determined to learn this art if possible, 
 and I supposed that, as in many other cases, 
 experience had to be bought, but would in 
 the end prove well worth the outlay. 
 
 It was in this way that I became an 
 owner of race-horses, or rather part owner, 
 Abinger being the partner. When he first 
 mentioned it to me I pooh-poohed the matter. 
 
 " My dear fellow," I said, " you take me 
 for a mug. However, I do know that to set 
 up a racing stable would cost ten to twenty 
 thousand a year, and one must wait long 
 before getting any returns." 
 
 He laughed, and explained to me the 
 system. We were to pick up from time to 
 time a few lively looking " platers" as cheaply 
 as possible, nurse them carefully for a win 
 in some small race on which, by a well- 
 worked " s.p." job, we should make a big 
 lot, and sell again before the winter at a profit. 
 
 In due course I found myself therefore the 
 
256 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 part owner of some four or five animals of 
 poor reputation, and did moderately well, 
 which is to say, paid expenses nearly. I did 
 not do so well as Abinger, however. Twice 
 I absoluetly refused to back one of my, 
 horses, although advised by my partner to 
 do so, because I saw no earthly chance of 
 winning back my money. On both occasions 
 it won at a long price, and I saw that I was 
 a bigger fool than I took myself for. On 
 another occasion Abinger distinctly advised 
 me not to back one that was running. 
 He said we would only pull it out for an 
 airing. I did not put a single penny on it. 
 That horse was registered in my name only. 
 It won. Then nasty rumours got about : it 
 appeared that, in a very quiet way, it had 
 been backed heavily at " s.p." I had to go 
 before the stewards of the Jockey Club and 
 explain things. As I could prove that not a 
 penny came to me through this win, except 
 some very small stake, I got off with a friendly 
 caution to keep a closer watch on my trainer^s 
 doings. It was quite an unpleasant business. 
 
 m. 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 257 
 
 Looking back at this time, and with know- 
 ledge gained subsequently, I ought to have 
 cut myself adrift from Abinger, or at least 
 have had my suspicions aroused. But he 
 had for me a kind of fascination. He was 
 such a jolly companion, and explained things 
 so easily and naturally that it was impossible 
 not to be convinced of his bona fides. Once 
 or twice, when by myself, I worked myself 
 into quite a state of annoyance with hirq 
 over some matter or other, in which he 
 appeared to be acting a little crookedly. 
 But when I went to tackle him on the 
 subject all my distrust and anger vanished, 
 and he made me feel that I had been most 
 unjust in my judgment of him. 
 
 It was during this time that Winifred 
 wrote to me one day saying she wished 
 particularly to see me' about something. I 
 was to choose a time when Abinger would 
 not be at home. This was very easy to 
 arrange. I dined at the club, and when after 
 dinner Abinger turned up and had settled 
 himself down in the card room, I knew that 
 
258 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 he was not likely to go home till after 2 a.m., 
 when the club closed. Then I went round 
 to see Winifred. 
 
 She was at home as usual with Helen 
 Forester, who was now her constant and 
 only companion. Her friendship with Bella 
 had latterly declined. I was not at all sorry 
 for my own sake that this was so. More 
 than once I felt the extreme dififiiculty of the 
 situation. Difificulty is scarcely the word. I 
 had not yet lost all sense of propriety, although 
 that sense was much dulled, and I admitted 
 in my heart that my relationship with Bella 
 made the latter a particularly undesirable 
 companion for my sister. It was altogether 
 a very unpleasantly complex arrangement, 
 and its contemplation aroused a natural but 
 temporary feeling of repugnance, so that 
 more than once, when my liver was out of 
 order, I resolved to break off with Bella. 
 But I was young, and my liver soon recovered 
 itself, and I laughed at myself for having 
 given way to the suggestions of middle-class 
 Puritanism. After all, Bella was Bella, and 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 259 
 
 would be no otherwise because I was not 
 there. If not I, it would be someone else. 
 Likewise for me, if it were not Bella, it would 
 be another, and what difference would that 
 make ? I was not prepared to become a 
 monk. As far as Winifred was concerned, 
 she was my sister, and I knew well that she 
 was not likely to be contaminated by Bella's 
 influence. The idea was impossible. The 
 only thing required was to avoid a contre- 
 temps, and all would be right. Nevertheless, 
 I was not sorry to see the friendship with 
 Bella dying out, and I felt the presence of 
 Helen Forester to be a great gain. There 
 was something about the girl which made 
 one feel safe ; a sense that evil must hide 
 itself before her. I myself even knew myself 
 to be for the time a better man when I sat 
 in the same room with her, and had glimpses 
 of the possibility of a different life from the 
 one which I was leading. 
 
 She was no saint in a niche, no waxen 
 mater dolorosa. She was a pretty, graceful, 
 clever girl, whose experience of life had been 
 
26o A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 sufficient to dispel her girlish ignorance without 
 touching her innocence. It was just that. 
 She was one of those rare women with whom 
 ignorance and innocence are not synonymous. 
 In most cases ignorance is the only quality 
 of the ingeyiue^ and it is that alone which 
 constitutes her chief attraction in the eyes 
 of the old or middle-aged profligate. The 
 prospect of the joy of teaching charms them. 
 The girls themselves become — Bellas. 
 
 With Helen Forester it was very dififerent. 
 Her beauty and her wit were such as to rouse 
 passion, but of the purer kind. One desired 
 her for herself, not for oneself, which marks a 
 strong distinction. 
 
 I was a^^are, in her presence, of a new sensa- 
 tion. I say new, because although it was akin 
 to the old sensation, which I had so often 
 experienced in its physical manifestations, it 
 was essentially different in its effect on action. 
 It subdued rather than aroused ; it called 
 forth a calm melancholy rather than a feverish 
 excitement ; it was sufficient in itself for the 
 occasion, and for each renewal* and did ngt 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 261 
 
 leave that sense of incompleteness which is 
 characteristic of that other passion. 
 
 I forbear to speak of it as love, for that is an 
 indefinite word, and quite equally • applies to 
 either sort, and to other sorts as well. 
 
 " No, don't go away, Helen," Winifred said, 
 after I had been there a little while, during 
 which the conversation was general. " I don't 
 mind speaking to Horace before you. In fact, 
 I'd rather, because you know all about it, and 
 I'd like Horace to have your opinion as well." 
 
 " Very wxU, Winnie, but please don't think 
 that I am going to interfere in your affairs, 
 even by advice. Advice is cheap, and like 
 most cheap things, pernicious. More harm 
 has been done by good advice in this world 
 than by falsehood." 
 
 '* Then it is not good advice," I suggested. 
 
 "Indeed, yes," Helen repHed; "it is im- 
 possible to be otherwise. Did anyone ever 
 hear of advice that was not ' for the best ' ? " 
 
 "That's hard on me. I have been asked to 
 come here by Winifred to advise her on some- 
 thing, I believe. Well, what is it, Winnie ? ". 
 
262 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 "Shortly, this/' Winifred repUed: "Stephen 
 wants me to lend him ten thousand pounds." 
 
 " Phew ! Ten thousand ! It's a lot." 
 
 ** Yes. I thought you'd say that But 
 listen." Then Winifred explained. The 
 details were of small importance. It was all 
 very plausible. It was a question of using the 
 money to good advantage on investments that 
 would give back a big return. Everything 
 seemed fairly reasonable, and the only matter 
 for consideration was whether Winifred was 
 justified in risking her private fortune in this 
 manner. 
 
 " What do you say ? " she said at length. 
 
 " It seems to me," I answered, " that it is a, 
 matter rather for you to decide." 
 
 " I know that," she said. " I don't want to 
 be snappish, Horace, but it is no good coming 
 here to tell me that. I must decide it, of 
 course, but I want an opinion from you." 
 
 " Well, do you think it is safe ? " 
 
 " I don't know. What do you think ? " 
 
 " I don't know, either. It may b^ all right." 
 
 " Or it may not," 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 263 
 
 "Perhaps. I don't like it very much. 
 Suppose you don't give it, what then ? " 
 
 Winifred looked down on the ground. 
 
 " Stephen won't like it." 
 
 " What does that mean ? " 
 
 " He won't like it, that's all." 
 
 Helen Forester had said nothing all this 
 while. At this moment I felt her raise her 
 eyes on me. There were words in them. 
 
 " Will he be unkind ? " 
 
 Winifred looked up sharply. 
 
 " No, of course not. Why do you say 
 that ? " 
 
 " From your manner. That's all right, 
 then. Well, I should say, don't lend it." 
 
 Winifred frowned a little, and Helen looked 
 at me with a wistful approval. 
 
 " I was afraid you'd say that," Winifred said. 
 " I was just writing to the bank who keep my 
 securities. Fll get the letter and tear it 
 up." 
 
 Winifred left the room. I looked up at 
 Helen. 
 
 *' Yes," she said, " he will be unkind to her. 
 
264 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 He will ill-treat her if she does not consent. I 
 know." 
 
 " You don't say that ! " I said, getting very 
 angry. 
 
 " I'm afraid so. That is why I stay here. 
 It is not very pleasant, as Captain Abinger 
 hates me. But Winifred needs a companion 
 badly. Why don't you look after her 
 more ? " 
 
 "Miss Forester," I said, crossing over to her, 
 " I ought, I know. But it is difficult for me, as 
 you see, perhaps." 
 
 "Yes, I see. I know it is difficult to inter- 
 fere in such a matter. Impossible, without 
 enormous tact." 
 
 " Yes. I wonder if I might ask you a 
 favour ? " I said. " Will you help me ? " 
 
 She looked up at me out of her deep eyes. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 Winifred returned. 
 
 "There is the letter. Tear it up your- 
 self." 
 
 I did so. 
 
 "And yon promise i;ne ftp-t ypu will not 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 265 
 
 write another like it ? That you will not lend 
 the money ? " 
 
 Winifred bit her lip and looked away. 
 
 " Yes, yes," she said, somewhat petulantly. 
 " Of course not. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Pleaskd as I was in a measure that Bella 
 had dropped her friendship with Winifred, I 
 was not quite so delighted to find that 
 Abinger by no means abandoned his amicable 
 relations with the St. John-Elliots; indeed, 
 if anything, his visits to their house became 
 more frequent. This was by no means 
 pleasant to me, firstly, because it compelled 
 me to be more cautious in my behaviour in 
 that quarter, and secondly, because from my 
 subsequent experience, I had some doubts 
 as- to whether all had been quite straight- 
 forward between Abinger and Bella in the 
 past; not on account of the past's sake, 
 which was after all no concern of mine, but 
 because it appeared possible that the rupture 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 267 
 
 between past and present might not be quite 
 complete. 
 
 I could not accuse myself of erring on the 
 side of particularity in the moral conduct of 
 men and women, and had it concerned any 
 other than Abinger and any other than 
 Bella, I should not have troubled one moment 
 about the matter. It is astounding how 
 different a thing looks to a man concerned 
 and a man unconcerned. 
 
 Rather to my surprise, Bella's rapacity was 
 quiescent at this time. I had come to regard 
 her extravagant demands upon my resources 
 for this or for that luxury as a matter of 
 course, and had taken the habit of setting it 
 down as part of my ordinary expenses. But 
 at the same time that she ceased her impor- 
 tunities, she also, it seemed to me, withdrew 
 a portion of her affection. It seemed so: I 
 may have been mistaken in this, and have 
 entirely invented the inference of cause and 
 effect. It may well have been an imagination 
 of vanity. As long as Bella was dependent 
 upon me to satisfy the whims which a wife 
 
268 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 cannot convince a husband are essential to 
 a happy existence, so long could I place 
 dependence upon her. When she appeared 
 to be able to do without me for these matters, 
 I not unnaturally imagined that she might 
 possibly be able to do without for others. 
 Yet I failed to mark any change in the cold 
 and dusty relationship of Bella and her 
 husband. 
 
 Acting on the hint given me by Helen 
 Forester, I paid more frequent visits to 
 Winifred, and tried to discern any change 
 in her manner or appearance. Although 
 more subdued, and altogether less vivacious 
 than she had been as a girl, I yet was unable 
 to detect any sufficient alteration to give me 
 the opportunity of interference. The matter 
 which had been the subject of our last con- 
 versation was not mentioned again, and she, 
 I thought, deliberately avoided anything 
 which might lead up to it. So far I sup- 
 posed that all was well. One day, however, 
 when my sister had left the room, Helen 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 269 
 
 Forester, breaking off a conversation in the 
 middle, said, — 
 
 " I am afraid she lent that money." 
 " Surely not ! Why do you think so ? " 
 " It is difficult to give any exact reason," 
 she answered. " I keep my eyes open, and 
 I have come to that conclusion. I think he 
 forced her.*' 
 
 " What can we do ? " I asked, in trouble 
 how to treat an affair of this nature. Such 
 was the effect produced by Helen's character 
 that I had already accepted her as a friend 
 whose interests were identical with ours. 
 
 " I think we can do nothing — at present," 
 she answered, accepting the situation with 
 perfect naturalness. " We must not interfere 
 between husband and wife. But it is inevi- 
 table that, sooner or later, this state of affairs 
 must mend or end. It cannot go on for 
 long. Either her husband will see his folly, 
 if folly is the word, or she will see hers. Let 
 things go, but watch them closely." 
 
 I thought Helen was the most sensible girl I 
 had ever met. 
 
2^0 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 During this time I was in some trouble 
 about Nelly. I was as fond of her as ever. 
 Bohemia is a long way from Barnes, and 
 the difference of climate was so great that 
 the one seemed always a distant and fabulous 
 land when in the other. 
 
 Has anyone whose work and daily life lies 
 in London, say, taken a long holiday in some 
 foreign town ? Whoever, being possessed of 
 some imagination, has done so, must have 
 surely at some moment felt that what he 
 regarded as his daily life was but a dream, a 
 fiction, of which he had read in some book. 
 And again on returning to this life must, 
 after a while, have wondered if that foreign 
 town ever had any real existence for him. 
 
 So it was with me in my journey ings 
 between Bella and Nelly. I seemed to live 
 a double life, and each at the moment was 
 the only real life. This twin existence is full 
 of fascination. I think with care it might 
 even be trebled or quadrupled. The chief 
 difficulty is in preventing the two from run- 
 ning into one another. When that happens, 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 271 
 
 the pleasure is gone, and it becomes 
 irksome. 
 
 If money was quiet at Barnes, there was 
 a brisk demand in St. John's Wood. I did 
 not grudge it so long as it was within reason- 
 able bounds. But just now there was talk 
 of taking a London theatre. I had gained 
 some experience of such matters over that 
 provincial tour, and I felt by no means 
 disposed to repeat the experiment. I said so 
 plainly. 
 
 " You're getting mean, Horace," Nelly 
 said, with a nasty ring in her voice. " It's 
 just like you men. You always want some- 
 thing for nothing. You're getting tired of 
 me, that's what it is." 
 
 I protested that it was not so. 
 
 " You needn't flurry yourself," she said; 
 " I can get on quite well without you, so don't 
 flatter yourself I can't. I managed to keep 
 myself before I knew you, and I can do 
 it again, I suppose, and no thanks to you — " 
 
 Having a remarkably even temper, and 
 believing in the maxim that it is useless to 
 
272 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 contradict and argue with a woman, I allowed 
 all this combination of romance and ingrati- 
 tude to pass without question. 
 
 "That's a little unkind, Nelly," was all I 
 said. 
 
 " Unkind ! Who's unkind, I should like 
 to know ? You refuse me everything I ask. 
 There are plenty of men I know that I shouldn't 
 have to ask twice. You told me just now that 
 you'd had enough of me, and I suppose you 
 have; someone else had better have a chance." 
 
 Had I possessed my present age and ex- 
 perience, I should still have said nothing. 
 But I was younger then, and had not the 
 sense to restrain the bitter word that came to my 
 tongue. 
 
 " Perhaps they had. You had better find 
 one of your plenty who will make himself a 
 fool for you. I won't." 
 
 " All right, old man, I will. I'll take you at 
 your word, and pay you for it. I'm going to 
 have this theatre, so I tell you. " 
 
 There was much more in this strain which 
 it will not profit to set down. I went away 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 273 
 
 in a bit of a temper, and I presumed Nelly 
 was in one too. But as I knew that very 
 soon I should have thrown off mine, so I 
 supposed that in a short time she would have 
 got rid of hers, and I waited calmly for a note 
 from her which would show that she had 
 recovered her equilibrium. I never doubted 
 for an instant that Nelly would be fool enough 
 to throw me over. No letter came, however, 
 and though I tried to smother my disappoint- 
 ment with dignity, in time that failed, and, 
 unable to endure the suspense any longer, I 
 went myself to seek reconciliation. This 
 resolution was doubtless hastened by an 
 announcement I had read in some theatrical 
 paper that the beautiful and clever Miss 
 Elaine Soyer was about to enter upon mana- 
 gerial responsibilities for herself, and that 
 a West-end theatre had already been 
 acquired. 
 
 This announcement excited both my 
 curiosity and my vanity, and — shall I add — 
 my passion. I was still fond of Nelly, and I 
 had so long possessed the reputation among 
 
274 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 my young companions of being the practical 
 possessor of one of the prettiest and most 
 popular of burlesque actresses, that I could 
 not bear the thought of the loss of prestige 
 which would result. 
 
 I therefore, one evening, went at the usual 
 time to the theatre where she was acting, 
 prepared, as usual, to see her home and make 
 and seal a peace. 
 
 When she came out of the stage door, I 
 moved towards her. She bowed to me stifly, 
 and accepting the arm of a loud and ungentle- 
 manly Jewish young man, entered her 
 brougham and drove ofif. I was so much 
 bewildered that I could do nothing. When 
 my mind was able to realize what had 
 happened, I was beside myself with rage, and 
 I should be sorry to repeat the language that 
 I uttered in my chambers during that night. 
 If my curses could have taken effect, Nelly 
 and everything about her would have withered 
 away at once and for ever. 
 
 But more followed. I shortly received a 
 letter from a firm of solicitors, who said that. 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 275 
 
 acting under the instructions of their client, 
 Miss Elaine Soyer, they were about to enter 
 an action against me for breach of promise 
 of marriage. The idea was preposterous, as 
 Nelly knew as well as myself. Our relation- 
 ship was far too well understood between us 
 for the notion of marriage to have possibly 
 interfered to mar its tranquility. The sugges- 
 tion was almost too humorous to deserve 
 serious treatment. Nevertheless, I sent the 
 name of my solicitors in reply. 
 
 In due course I went to see them. They 
 asked me many questions, especially as to the 
 tenour of the letters that I had written to Nelly. 
 I presume that my elegant epistles were not 
 more foolish than most of their kind; but I 
 had had the misfortune to have confidence in 
 Nelly's good faith. When my good lawyers 
 learned that it was very possible that I might 
 more than once have addressed her as " darling 
 wifie," and signed myself " your loving hubby " 
 — we two knew well enough what these terms 
 signified — they strongly advised me to settle 
 
2y(i A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 the action out of court. It cost me five 
 thousand pounds. 
 
 Was I well out of it at the price ? It might 
 be so; but that was not the only price I paid. 
 I tried to satisfy the aching sense that I had 
 lost something out of my life by plunging for 
 a time into every kind of dissipation, and yet 
 all the while there was a dull pain deep-seated 
 in my heart that made itself felt for long, 
 perhaps for ever. The mysterious communion 
 of a love that is dead manifests itself through 
 the physical chain which will never be broken 
 till the body perishes. Somewhere in this 
 lie hidden the fundamental principles of life. 
 
CHAPTER XXL 
 
 I HAVK not related the ordinary and actual 
 adventures of my life during these years. I 
 suppose I had the usual haps and mishaps 
 that fall to most men's lot. I had illness 
 and accidents as others, and as my life was 
 mainly passed in London, and not in Arctic 
 seas nor tropical forests, my experiences were 
 not more interesting in the matter of priva- 
 tions and hair-breadth escapes than those of 
 any other Londoner. 
 
 I am now, however, going to tell one 
 adventure that befell me about this time, 
 because I think it had a definite bearing 
 upon other matters here related. 
 
 I had bought a yacht, at the suggestion of 
 Abinger. He wanted me to go in for a 
 Britannia or Valkyrie. I had the good sense, 
 
278 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 however, for once to resist this proposal, and 
 contented myself with the acquisition of a 
 nice little " 40 " cutter, built on the lines of 
 a compromise between a racer and a cruiser; 
 it was more comfortable than an ordinary 
 racer, and faster than an ordinary cruiser. 
 It was a boat on which one could have 
 a good time with two or three friends, and could 
 have a chance of paying some of its expenses 
 by entering for cruisers' races during the 
 summer. 
 
 I had always been a moderately good 
 sportsman; I could take my part decently in 
 any sport or game. Sailing was, however, 
 new to me, and during this summer I spent 
 a considerable time off and on with my boat. 
 It was my amusement to invite a friend or 
 so to pass a few days with me coasting about 
 and taking an occasional run across Channel. 
 It was an excellent thing in many ways, 
 especially for my health. 
 
 On one occasion I was feeling depressed 
 and worried. It was just after my rupture 
 with Nelly. London was hot and stuffy, and 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 279 
 
 the very idea of a few days at sea was 
 comforting and refreshing. I had not found 
 a friend to share my pleasure, and I was on 
 the point of deciding to go alone, when I 
 accidentally met Wynne. 
 
 It was some time since I had seen him. 
 A certain coolness had sprung up after that 
 financial transaction that I have related. I 
 was near the Mansion House on business of 
 some sort when I noticed him walking in 
 front of me. I had time to observe that he 
 was worried and nervous, and his appearance 
 was inclined to be shabby. I came hastily 
 to the conclusion that business had not been 
 going well with him lately, and that possibly 
 a few days' complete change would do him 
 good. 
 
 I was never one to be able to nurse resent- 
 ment for any length of time against a man 
 who had done me a bad turn, and when 
 that man was beset by ill-fortune, I was 
 only too ready to forgive. I remembered 
 that Wynne was next heir to the tied-up 
 property which I enjoyed, that his position 
 
28o A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 was rather a hard one, and that I should be 
 behaving in a most ungracious manner by 
 treating him otherwise than with every kind 
 consideration. 
 
 I overtook him quickly and touched him 
 on the shoulder. As he turned and saw me, 
 he started and became rather pale, but he 
 soon recovered when I spoke to him reassur- 
 ingly. I have no doubt he imagined that I 
 was going to bring up the old business again, 
 and his first discomfiture was quite natural. 
 
 " I say, old chap, why haven't you been 
 to see me ? " I cried. 
 
 " I've been very busy," he answered after 
 a momentary hesitation. " This infernal 
 Stock Exchange business wears one to death." 
 
 " Is it going all right ? " 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " No, damned bad. I can't do right just 
 at present. I've been doing hardly anything 
 else than paying diffs for the past two 
 months, and if it goes on much longer it will 
 crack me." 
 
 "I'm awfully sorry," I said. "But you 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL ^i 
 
 must not worry yourself. That won't do any 
 good." 
 
 " Ah ! it^s all very well for you, Horace, to 
 talk about not worrying. But if you had as 
 little capital as I have, and had to watch it 
 running away like a leaking beer cask, and 
 unable to do anything to stop it, you'd 
 worry." 
 
 " I daresay, old fellow. Is that the only 
 trouble ? " 
 
 He looked at me sharply and suspiciously. 
 
 " Why ? have you heard anything about 
 me?" 
 
 I had not. My remark was entirely at 
 random, for the purpose of keeping up, or 
 rather, of changing the topic of conversation. 
 His manner struck me as strange, but I put 
 it down to nerves. 
 
 " No," I said, and he seemed relieved. " I 
 was only going to say that if ever you get 
 in a tight place and I could help you to 
 tide over it, don't be such a jackass as to be 
 afraid to come and ask me. If I couldn't 
 see you through it, I should be a pig." 
 
282 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 A shadow of remorse passed over his face, 
 and he said in a low voice, — 
 
 " Thanks, Horace. You're a good sort." 
 
 " And now, look here. I want you to do 
 something. You want a change." And then 
 I proposed to him to come and spend two 
 or three days with me on the yacht. He 
 excused himself at first. He could not spare 
 the time; he was such a bad sailor; and 
 many other reasons. Then suddenly, quite 
 suddenly, he accepted. 
 
 "You're right, Horace," and there was 
 some sort of excitement in his eyes ; " it will 
 do me good. I've let myself run down." 
 
 The first day Wynne was rather uncomfort- 
 able by reason of the sea. But the next he 
 had quite recovered, and took a great interest 
 in the boat and its sailing. We had run 
 out of Queenboro' and were making for 
 Yarmouth. About mid-day we were in the 
 Middle Swim, running before a smart south- 
 west breeze in a fast ebb. We were thus 
 dead before the wind, with the main-sail 
 full out to port, and the back-stay in that 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 283 
 
 hand free. Whoever has had the tiller of a 
 handy boat under these circumstances will 
 know that it requires exceeding care to avoid 
 a gibe. A little too much helm, the boat 
 becomes unsteady, and the boom begins to 
 swing ominously. 
 
 I had been at the tiller for some time, and 
 Wynne was sitting near me on deck. We 
 had been talking about the difficulty of 
 keeping the boat steady. 
 
 " If the boom were to come across," I 
 said, "we should not only have to duck 
 smartly to avoid a smack on the head, but it 
 would carry away the starboard back-stay, 
 and might even snap itself." 
 
 "Yes! I see," he said, meditatively. 
 
 After a while he said, 
 
 "Would you mind letting me take her for 
 a bit ? I should like to try my hand. You 
 stand by in case I play the fool." 
 
 He seemed so well to have understood 
 what was required that I saw no harm in it, 
 and allowed him to take the tiller. 
 
 We veered about a bit at first, and he 
 
284 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 laughingly remarked that it was not so easy 
 as it looked. But after a few minutes he 
 seemed to have caught the knack of keeping 
 the boat fairly steady, and I allowed my 
 attention to wander more than once, feeling 
 fairly secure. 
 
 " What's that ? " cried Wynne. 
 
 I looked. It was a fine sight, no less than 
 a big ironclad coming up channel at full 
 steam, and as she passed us not more than a 
 quarter of a mile away, I felt that Ruskin 
 was woefully lacking in appreciation of the 
 artistic possibilities of the splendour of power 
 when he spoke contemptuously of the modern 
 battleship in comparison with the old. 
 
 The room was in semi-darkness, and a grey- 
 frocked nurse was moving noiselessly about 
 in it, when I woke with a headache and a 
 sense of general weariness. 
 
 I was not allowed to talk at first. I didn't 
 mind, as I did not wish to talk. For several 
 days I preferred to be allowed to lie still and 
 try to discover things on the white ceiling. 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 285 
 
 After a while Winifred came to see me, and 
 with her, Helen. I liked that. Somehow, 
 Helen's presence seemed to do me good. I 
 was much more comfortable and happy when 
 she was there, when I could see her, or 
 hear her speaking in low tones to Winifred. 
 
 They told in time that Wynne had let the 
 the boat gibe while looking at the ironclad, 
 that he had called out to me, that I had 
 ducked, but too late, that the boom hit me 
 on the head, and knocked me overboard, 
 that I was sensible enough to strike out 
 swimming, and kept myself afloat in this 
 manner for some five minutes, till they picked 
 me up, and that I only fainted off when 
 changing my wet clothes in the cabin. I 
 remember none of these facts, and never 
 shall. 
 
 Wynne, I heard, was quite distracted at 
 what had happened. He had called every 
 day until a few days back, when he had 
 learnt that there was no longer any danger, 
 and that I was making good progress. Since 
 then he had not called. 
 
286 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 Helen and Winifred — I mean, Winifred 
 and Miss Forester — came every day, and when 
 I was well enough I went with them to a 
 country farm in Devonshire. Abinger did 
 not come, as he said that he thought he must 
 stay about London to look after my horses and 
 things. 
 
 One day in the autumn I heard from 
 Wynne. He asked me to lend him a 
 thousand. Things had gone from bad to 
 worse. He had been obliged to cut his 
 losses as his capital was gone, and he was 
 left without resources. He had an offer of 
 a partnership in a French house, which 
 would involve his being mostly abroad, 
 but a thousand pounds was required to put 
 him in. 
 
 I raised the money and sent it to him. 
 
JOO'I A "dO Tia A 8,8si 
 
 .ton bfiio'j I 1;:ilf rncai tjIhI ot lu;il I Ji:ilV/ 
 
 -- m: i,,r.oq/'., .f -.: '/;:.-. :-.;:.h[l v^njfu 'uU 
 
 WHi:N.I.,:WaS; quite well enough to, look aft^r 
 myself ^tirely, Winifred -jvent^fPi i'J9fPi J^^fJ 
 husband, who was in Scotland, Helen wei;it, . to 
 stay with, friends, and I returned to town. It 
 was necessary for me to go back to look after 
 matters, as I had been unable to attend to 
 anything while I was ill. 
 
 My first care was , to run down to my 
 trainer and see how my stable; was getting 
 C|n./ Qa xny, arrival, I found that he had been 
 ill and was away. The head groom was in 
 charge. He was a smart and business-like 
 fellow, wth the smart and business-like name 
 of; Tibb. Tibb was a name one could 
 remember easily, and shout easily, it took 
 neither breath nor time to call it. 
 
 I inquired how things had been going oji 
 in, my t absence. ,r 
 
288 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 " As well as could be expected, sir," Tibb 
 answered. 
 
 What I had to infer from that I could not 
 tell. Whether it was a form of flattery 
 which implied that during the absence of 
 the owner things could not be expected to go 
 perfectly, or whether there was something 
 else underlying it, it was hard to guess. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " I asked. " Cap- 
 tain Abinger has been down here ; he has 
 given all the orders." 
 
 " Yes, yes ; the Captain has been down 
 here — at times. Oh, he's given the orders 
 right enough, such as they are." 
 
 " What is it, Tibb ? You don't seem quite 
 satisfied. Come, tell me. I have been ill, you 
 know." 
 
 I saw that there was something wrong, and 
 that Tibb would be willing to unburden 
 himself if I gave him the opportunity for 
 confidence. 
 
 " Well, I ain't satisfied, that's a fact, sir. 
 And I don't suppose as you would be neither. 
 I've got myself to look after. It wouldn't be a 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 289 
 
 nice thing to be warned off, would it now ? " 
 
 " Certainly not, Tibb, but—" 
 
 " But that's what it'll come to one day, 
 however." 
 
 I need not quote in detail the whole of our 
 conversation. I obtained Tibb's confidence, 
 and he my promise of secrecy. To put the 
 matter shortly, the in-and-out running of mine 
 and my partner's animals had recently excited 
 loud and wrathful comment, and things were at 
 the moment in a doubtful condition. It was, 
 in fact, the ugly rumours which had been going 
 about which had caused the trainer's absence, 
 and perhaps Abinger's retreat to Scotland. 
 
 My illness had had a sobering effect upon me, 
 and I quickly determined to put an end to my 
 share of the business. I determined to write to 
 Abinger at once, and tell him of my decision, 
 leaving him to carry on the business on his 
 own responsibility if he chose, and paying me a 
 fair share for my interest. 
 
 Before I left, Tibb gave me two most un- 
 pleasant bits of information. First, that one 
 powerful " bookie," powerful both by influence 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 and*' *^p1fysique, ' and well supported by an 
 efficient body-guard, had sworn to smash me 
 ^jth^iirstctinie'he niet me." The second was 
 a little bill for traming and other ^-expenses 
 which Abinger had told Tibb to ask me to 
 settle immediately. It came to one thousand 
 thrjee, hundred and odd pounds, -» ^.^jwasr |iist 
 i^9W-,at tny wits' end for money, and could not 
 even if I would, have settled this bill. On the 
 other hand I had no intention of doing any-^ 
 thing of the sort. I liad given Abinger fuUy^ 
 enough to pay all necessary expenses on my 
 behalf, and far from having anything now to 
 pay, I ought, on the contrary, to have received 
 something handsome back. I had almost been 
 relying on it. .r..^^ ]^^.^*.j,.r»-r«-v.xh Yl-J-vfrTp I !)rtn 
 
 oil .'gave Tibb a ten pound note for himself and 
 left with him written orders to cancel the 
 engagements of all my horses. 
 
 Apart from the unpleasantness to me persons- 
 ally, it made me ponder most seriously upon 
 the conduct of Abinger, and I knew now, what 
 I ought to have known long before, that he was 
 a man not to be trusted in any respect. I felt 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 291 
 
 deeply for Winifred, and bitterly repented ever 
 having been induced to allow her to marry him. 
 I should never have done so but for my 
 infatuation for Bella, an infatuation which even 
 now possessed me entirely. And yet on this 
 score I was also much troubled. Tibb had 
 ishowed me a letter from Abihger of which the 
 postmark was Llandudno. : Iv knew .that ; Bella 
 had been staying as usual at Golwyn Bay, and 
 I could not forget my own visit to the same 
 neighbourhood. It was the more remarkable 
 in that all the letters that Winifred had 
 received from her husband had borne a London 
 or South of England postmark, and we were 
 neither of, iis^wa^e that Jbe had |>een into N9Jfti3 
 
 ,^r 
 
 , / J 
 
 Wales^i [)::- ,-:Th[i;:J 
 " : Still -Mfattiated, ,but also very jealous, I went 
 to see Pella, who Had by this time returned to 
 Barnes, with the intention of having it out 
 with her. . 
 
 I found her melancholy, but -very affectionate. 
 .She seemed really delighted to see me. . Z "' 
 I 'On my way I had rehearsed a hundred times 
 all the things I was going to say, and: dlratiiab- 
 
292 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 tized and staged iii my mind the whole scene. 
 Needless to say that it did not go that way in 
 reality, and I said none of the things that I 
 had intended. It is the great failure of these 
 imagined episodes that the plot and the sequel 
 depend much upon the dialogue, and when the 
 other person declines to take the attitude and 
 say the words which give the openings, the 
 whole matter comes to nothing, or takes an 
 entirely unexpected course. 
 
 " I thought you had quite forsaken me," she 
 said in languidly reproachful tones, and with a 
 glance of her eyes that quenched anger. " I 
 didn't dare do more than call and leave my card 
 when you were ill. It would not have done. 
 It would have set people talking, and it won't 
 do for us to get talked about, will it, Horace ? " 
 
 There was much more in this style, and I 
 found it impossible to resist the fascination. 
 Once I recovered myself so far as to ask her, 
 casually, if she had seen anything of Abinger. 
 
 " No, indeed," she answered with perfect 
 simplicity, and though I looked at her I could 
 detect no sign of untruthfulness in her grey; 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 293 
 
 eyes, nothing but a look of mild interrogation 
 as though she expected me to say something 
 more by way of explanation. I had nothing to 
 say, and at last she said, — 
 
 " Why ? " 
 
 " Oh, I thought you might have, as I hear 
 he was at Llandudno not long ago." 
 
 A shade of slight annoyance crossed her face. 
 
 " Was he ? It is a little discourteous, 
 seeing how long he has known us, not to have 
 come over to Colwyn." 
 
 " Perhaps he was only there on business," I 
 suggested. 
 
 " That is hardly a good excuse," she 
 answered, "but I am afraid that Captain 
 Abinger is a little careless in his social duties. 
 I only hope it won't go against Winifred. 
 We are old friends, and know each other well, 
 but some people might not so easily overlook 
 it." 
 
 I was absolutely convinced that my 
 suspicions were wrong. 
 
 Then we fell to talking of other things, and 
 this led to the usual consequences, and to 
 
r^m ^^ BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 love-making, wherein I, who had , perforce been 
 a recluse for so long-, exceeded myeelf in my 
 'folly. Every other thought was drowned in 
 the allurements of the woman; rhy ' honour, 
 my sister's honour, the magnificently healthy 
 -beauty and innocence,: of . Helem, ; * all >were 
 forgotten. •^,,.,,, .,^j.,f jn{tn^^mnv4.l U\ PAvn '>\\ 
 .' ";Why do you make me love yoii so?" I 
 ,cried in an ecstasy of passion. ' ,.,'// " 
 
 ' "I' want. five thousand pounds," she said, 
 with her lips so close to mine that the words 
 iwere nearly muffied. i ip.^^nilvi -. 
 
 The man who wakes from a dream of 
 paradise to find himself in the condemned cell 
 on the morning of his execution, can have no 
 .ruder shock. I was unable to speak or to move. 
 . "I want five thousand pounds," she 
 repeated, " and I must have it at once." <. '^V/ 
 
 "Bella! I— I can't! I haven't got it. '"l 
 can't get it." ^ 
 
 She drew herself back on the sofa, as calm 
 and unimpassioned as a waxwork. 
 
 "I must have it. Are you going to give it 
 tine, or not ? " 
 
I^UNIVE.PSJTY j 
 
 A BIT OF A FOOL -295 
 
 -Jf/M^r manner chilled me to despair. "[ I '* 
 
 " I_I, oh, if Ihad it, yes ! " ■'•'' -^f'- -■'■'> ^^-^^ 
 
 ''' She shrugged her shoulders. '^-ff'^'J i' '^'f '* 
 
 ■'^^ You're a fool," she said. "'^ '''' ^'' 
 
 Anger and passion were having a Harcl 
 
 battle in me. . , / 
 
 " I can't get it, Bella, not so much. 
 
 Wouldn't less-?" ; ,^,;^ ,^^,^ ,^,,^, .; ^^.^;^ 
 
 /. "I want that." . • - • / 
 
 ' ''^' But, I have no money now ; I have all sorts 
 of expenses to meet, and I can't raise so much." 
 
 " Then I must find a man who can. Your 
 expenses are your own matter." 
 
 " Bella ! Bella ! I could say no more. 
 To speak of her unblushing effrontery, her 
 brazen impudence, and all the usual terms 
 employed in such cases, in no way represents 
 her demeanour. She spoke as though she 
 were God and Fate. Reproaches, invective 
 were useless before this woman. She was 
 supreme in herself : what she decreed, what 
 she desired, that must be. 7 ')A 
 
 " Well ?" she said, after a long pauses.!/; *inoii 
 
,296 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 " I— I" No words would form them- 
 selves. She saw her advantage. 
 
 "Be a sensible boy. Go away and think it 
 over. Come to me to-morrow, and — " She 
 did not finish her sentence, but her expression 
 was more eloquent than any words. 
 
 Dazed and nervous, I left the house, 
 prepared to commit any folly, to take any 
 risk. It was past three in the afternoon. As 
 my cab drove over Westminster Bridge from 
 Waterloo, I saw the great flag flying on the 
 Victoria Tower, and I knew that near at hand 
 was a dull, hard-working and pompous member 
 of Parliament, named St. John-Elliot, working 
 in an antumn session where none attend 
 except those who are dragged there by duty, 
 ambition, or self-importance, and when the 
 cranks, the windbags, and the unknown have 
 the House to themselves. 
 
 I drove direct to Mr. Salmon^s office, and 
 was lucky enough to find that gentleman there. 
 Business had, of course, been very dull, and 
 he would have gone home, or elsewhere, an 
 hour ago had he not fallen asleep in the 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 297 
 
 soothing company of a bottle of brown 
 sherry. 
 
 When I entered the room he was nearly 
 quite awake, but still very mellow. This was 
 fortunate. Even as it was I had great 
 difficulty in convincing him of the desirability 
 of permitting me to increase my indebtedness, 
 but I. was persistent. I was driven by despair, 
 and agreed to the most ruinous conditions. 
 Seeing that the time was rapidly approaching 
 when I should be able to settle up his claim, 
 I got reckless. The victory was mine, but at 
 a price, and though I obtained no less than 
 ten thousand, I had made my fortune respon- 
 sible for nearly double that sum. I am well 
 aware that I could have obtained through 
 banks, and other legitimate channels, all I 
 wanted at reasonable terms ; but I was in such 
 a hurry always in these matters that I could 
 not await the delay necessary for the completion 
 of the formalities, the life assurance, and that 
 rot, required in these cases. I preferred to 
 get the money at once and let the future take 
 C^re for itself. Of cou;-se I -yv^as a fool ; but I 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 have the questionable satisfaction of not being 
 the only one. 
 
 I had half a mind to go back to Bella at 
 once. ' But I forbore to do so. Feeling safe, 
 i gave myself the pleasure of suspense: I 
 spent the.evenmg m town, gomg to a music 
 hall— there was no one at the club. 
 
 A little after eleven. I returned to my 
 chambers. My man was going to speak to 
 me, but I passed on to my sitting-room, 
 :ithinking he wished to ask about supper and 
 iwould follow. 
 
 - Winifred was in the sitting-room. The 
 Imoment I looked at her I saw she had been 
 icxying. I closed the door/ 
 I ''I'll never live with him again ! " she cried, 
 /before I had tinie to ask why she was there. 
 .'**Look!^' and she slipped the bodice she 
 fwas wearing down from her shoulders. Her 
 ■ariiis were' black and blue, and little dark 
 bruises, as of fingers, showed about her 
 throat. 
 
 Myipassion boiled up.-'0'j 10 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL ^299 
 
 " He did that ! I'll thrash him till I or he 
 can't stand," I cried. 
 
 "He is in Scotland. I left him," Winifred 
 said. 
 
 " How did you get those marks ? " I asked. 
 " Is he mad ? " 
 
 ''I wouldn% > give clHi» -rar^^more money. 
 That's why !" " 
 
 '} 
 
 'MIool 'd:i^ £ Jool £ iiood 0-/1 ,iIO" 
 
 <oxi ,ori — ^Sili 1q ,j Jug!:) on qy'I ^gsY '' 
 
 7i)ii lol '\-LnL-Lriii ou oi iij^^rri j'liob I ^slonlW 
 OJ iOv:> i-il Lriji ^-hov/ oi iru^^^ ^^^^ x!Juo:ii 
 ^ i'l si -j:dv.' :^:u2 '' .eI>iov7 '(m :Ij: eiLvJ rlliw IIS 
 
 " \ JIjs icZ 
 b£Ul^uodi xinow/i mid nsvi^ i^v-::! I .oZ '' 
 
 " *: ^50-1-:- :..lvv :ioT: " 
 j[tiiiIcj:o frxo I .v/on^I vlbix:! 'j'ciol) I " 
 
 - ''.jj:idI yI::o cL?;—- I .:i x-:ii:i£W 
 
 ; I>:i:qoi 00 01 
 
CHAPTER XXIIL 
 
 *' How much have you given him ?" I asked. 
 
 " Oh, IVe been a fool, a silly fool ! " 
 Winifred moaned, by way of answer. 
 
 " Yes, I've no doubt of that — no, no, 
 Winnie, I don't mean to be unkind," for her 
 mouth had begun to work, and her eyes to 
 fill with tears at my words. " But what is it ? 
 Not all ? " 
 
 " No. I have given him twenty thousand 
 altogether." 
 
 " For what purpose ? " 
 
 " I don't hardly know. I can't explain. 
 He always had some good reason for 
 wanting it. It — was only lent." 
 
 " To be repaid ? " 
 
 " Soon ; but soon never came." 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 301 
 
 *' And this present amount ? What did 
 he want that for ? " 
 
 " Don't you know, Horace ? " she answered, 
 in a tone of something near surprise, 
 
 " No, indeed. How should I ? " 
 
 " It was to pay expenses incurred by 
 you." 
 
 "Byrne? The liar ! " 
 
 And then we talked far into the night. 
 Winifred told me the whole story, a story 
 that I might have guessed if I had not been 
 so blind. Almost from the very fxrst he had 
 behaved cruelly to her, and only showed 
 affection when he wished to get some 
 money from her. She was determined 
 upon one thing, that she would never live 
 with him again, and would seek a separa- 
 tion. 
 
 To my mind a separation was not a 
 satisfactory solution. Winifred was young, 
 two and twenty only, and it was clear that 
 the proper thing to aim at v\^as a divorce. 
 But, of course, some other evidence of a 
 
30g A':BIT DF'A FQDL 
 
 Hififenent; /nature .was. necessary. .'I: suggested 
 it to Winifred. « s loi issii iiisv/ od 
 
 .bivoi^t:: I. 'know^V^Jie s^ r " J^^t^j-I v^on't 
 like it — I shouldn't like to know, if it were 
 so ; I should ieel that 1 had been acting. Jn 
 an underhand manner in Having secret 
 inquiries made. 
 
 " But have you no suspicions ? ** * ^ 
 
 Winifred was silent for a time. • '-^'^^ ^-'^ 
 --^bon-'t-i ask me, H-orace," she-' -fealdi-^-at 
 length. .-'/toi?. olodw ';rit om bloi b'^'iiimY/" 
 XI ft For instance," I suggested, ."doJ you 
 kndw. that he was getting letters posted' ta 
 you in London, at .a.Hnxe when ..he .waaW 
 somewhere else ?'i>';: I:^,: 7/ ,v:f i:;dv/ i-oiit-^oBs 
 j, .In spite of my . previous ccaiviction, the 
 Llandudno incident . would recur ; to my mind, 
 and though I did hot wish to go into detailsjf 
 I could not help making the hint. .. ::' 
 
 JB " Do you know that to be a fact ?" . she 
 asked, biting her lips.: // .aoijulo? vio^:>ijiarfi:2 
 ;:^/iIdo." : • ■ >v/:t 
 
 . '5*1 will see, I will see. I don't knowfwbal 
 
 I ought to do." ._.a^ :>-..... ,..:..... yj 10 ,Ji/S 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL -303 
 
 "And meanwhile, where do you propose 
 to live ? I suppose you don't mean to go 
 to the house again, but you can't live by 
 yourself, you know. If Abinger is such a 
 blackguard as he appears, we must give him 
 no opportunity of making counter charges." 
 
 " I have written to Helen, and we are 
 going to live together somewhere," Winifred 
 said. 
 
 " That's right. And now I must put you 
 up here for the night." 
 
 Next morning Helen arrived, and we found 
 lodgings for them. Then I went to a well- 
 known firm of solicitors and put the matter 
 in their hands. I was determined that, 
 whatever might be Winifred's scruples, a 
 divorce must be procured if possible, and 
 unfortunately I had little doubt from what 
 I knew of Abinger, which was much, that 
 there would be little difficulty on that score. 
 When we had dined well, Abinger used 
 to become rather free in his remarks, and 
 although I should not have interfered if 
 Winifred had been happy (for after all it was 
 
304 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 common enough, and quite an accepted 
 thing in the class of society in which we lived), 
 yet when it came to fighting, I had no scruples 
 about using my knowledge, for all is fair in 
 love and war, and divorce may be said to be 
 a sort of mixture of the two. 
 
 That little matter being over, I went off to 
 see Bella. When I entered she was reading 
 a letter, which she hastily put in her pocket, 
 not, however, before I had unconsciously 
 noticed that the writing was Abmger's, or 
 very like it. 
 
 " Dear boy," she said, " I knew you would 
 do as I wished. It's no goOd, you know, 
 saying can't when I say must, is it? " 
 
 "To tell the honest truth, Bella, I did 
 not think I was any more likely to get it 
 than the crown of England." 
 
 " Of course not, but you have got it. I 
 knew you would. Where there's a will 
 there's a way." 
 
 " The will is yours— " 
 
 " And the way yours. That's hints." 
 
 A scene of affection followed. 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 305 
 
 " By the way/' I said at length, when I 
 was thinking of going, " Abinger has behaved 
 very badly to Winifred, and she has left him." 
 
 " Indeed," — Bella raised her eyebrows 
 very much — " I suppose she will go back 
 and not be stupid." 
 
 " No, she won't, and I won't let her, any- 
 how. Nor would you, if you knew." 
 
 Then I told her part of the story. 
 
 "This is all very sad and very foolish," 
 she said. " I do hope they won't wash their 
 dirty linen in public, however. Do persuade 
 Winnie to settle the matter quietly. Don't 
 have a scandal. Scandals are such bad 
 form." 
 
 There was something of unusual interest 
 in her tone. It might have been that, as she 
 knew both well, she felt it touched her 
 personally. On the other hand, it seemed 
 to me almost as if there were some further 
 motive in her advice. Perhaps it was only 
 my jealousy that suggested this interpreta- 
 tion. 
 
 I promised I would do what I could. 
 
3o6 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 A week or so passed, and Winifred received 
 two or three very humble letters from her 
 husband. I was inclined to advise her to 
 make it up this time, in spite of the fact 
 that he had showed himself to be a coward 
 of the worst type. Above all things, I hate a 
 row, and this no doubt influenced me to 
 some extent. I believe that I would suffer 
 a very great deal to avoid a scene. 
 
 Helen, who was now always with Winifred, 
 said little, but when her opinion was asked, 
 she gave it like one who had made up her 
 mind, and having made it up would never 
 change it. Her invariable advice was that 
 by no means must Winifred consent to 
 rejoin her husband. 
 
 For one who was endowed with a sweet 
 and kindly disposition, this attitude appeared 
 exceptionally cruel. I could only suppose 
 that she knew a great deal more than she 
 cared to say. 
 
 On one occasion I found her alone, and 
 took the opportunity of asking her point 
 blank why she took up this position. 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 307 
 
 " Captain Abinger," she said, ** is a bad 
 man. I know it. I need say no more. 
 Winifred could never be happy with him. 
 He wants her only for her money. When 
 that was gone, he would desert her. I am 
 certain of this." 
 
 I did not dare question her further. She 
 seemed so positive that I felt that she must 
 have very clear reason for her opinion, a 
 reason which I thought it best not to inquire 
 into. 
 
 She saw by my looks what was passing in 
 my mind. 
 
 " You will promise never to let Winifred 
 know if I tell you something," she said. 
 
 I promised most faithfully. 
 
 " He dared once to make love to me. He 
 thought I was a poor unsophisticated girl 
 who would be dazzled by him. He made a 
 mistake. We have never spoken since." 
 
 There was a big gap in the story, which 
 however, was amply told in the phrase " he 
 made a mistake." I would have given some- 
 thing to harve seen that mistake made. 
 
3o8 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 I had long ago conceded most of the 
 moral and physical virtues to Helen, but I 
 had not hitherto given her credit for the 
 possession of such rare determination. I 
 thought to myself what an excellent wife she 
 would make for some men that I had met 
 who only needed a strong controlling influence 
 to be excellent fellows, but who were likely 
 to go wrong for want of it. 
 
 A few days later I was surprised at receiving 
 a visit from Helen at my chambers immedi- 
 ately after breakfast. She was alone. I had 
 looked to see Winifred with her. 
 
 She saw the slight trace of surprise in my 
 face, and with a charming air of confident 
 innocence, said, — 
 
 " I am afraid this is dreadfully improper, 
 isn't it? Improper is the right word, I am 
 sure. But it only reflects on me, and I have 
 none but myself to mind. I have risked it. 
 Besides," she added, dropping her bantering 
 air, " it is necessary. Winifred felt unable 
 herself to tell you what I have come to say. 
 It is not very pleasant, indeed it is a very 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 309 
 
 iielicate task. But I look on you, Horace, 
 in the light of almost a brother, and somehow 
 I don't mind saying to you things that I 
 should scruple to say to any other man. I 
 seem to know you, and to be able to trust 
 you. You will not take advantage of the 
 position to my discomfiture." 
 
 " Of course not, Helen. Tell me all about 
 it." 
 
 " I hardly think you will entirely like it. 
 I may have to say things which will make 
 you very uncomfortable ; but you must not 
 mind." 
 
 I felt rather uneasy. Somehow the girl 
 seemed to make all my follies I was rather 
 proud of amongst my friends appear mean 
 and contemptible, and I could not help 
 likening my attitude before her to that of a 
 favourite dog who knows he has stolen, and 
 wonders if his master knows. 
 
 " We have a report from the solicitors 
 this morning, and we have got a clear case. 
 There should be no difficulty from their point 
 of view."^ 
 
3IQ A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 " I supposed that would be so," I said. 
 " I had good reason to doubt Abinger's 
 fideHty." 
 
 It was strange that I felt no discomfort 
 in' speaking of such a subject with a girl of 
 less than my own age. I should have 
 imagined prima facie that a conversation of 
 this sort could have been carried on under 
 two conditions, either with extreme difficulty 
 and shame, or with effrontery and double 
 intention. This was not the case with Helen. 
 I could talk with her as easily as with my 
 solicitor. 
 
 ^' But from our point of view a difficulty 
 arises," Helen continued, taking no notice of 
 my somewhat unwise remark ; " this difficulty 
 is with the co-respondent, she who must 
 with present information be made co-respon- 
 dent." 
 
 I felt the blood leave my face and my heart 
 pause in its beat ; for I knew now what the 
 information obtained was. 
 
 " Yes," and my voice was thick. 
 
 " This lady was once an intimate friend of 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 311 
 
 the family. If the suit were Instituted upon 
 this charge, complications might arise which 
 would be far from pleasant, which, indeed, 
 would create such a scandal that none of us 
 could ever hold up our heads again." 
 
 I knew that I was tracing with my eyes 
 the pattern of the carpet, and dared not look 
 tip. 
 
 " We cannot, I think, proceed on these 
 lines at present. That is what I have advised, 
 I have come to ask your opinion also." 
 
 Had she asked me point blank as to my 
 position with Bella it would have made 
 little difference. I saw that she knew, and 
 it was no good trying to evade the evident 
 meaning of her words. 
 
 I was silent for a long time, feeling guilty 
 beyond expression. At last, rising from my 
 seat and pacing the room, but never facing 
 Helen, I said with difficulty, — 
 
 " I think we had better not. We must 
 look for evidence elsewhere. I — I think it 
 might be obtained. We do not wish to drag 
 others into this. Indeed, we must not." 
 
312 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 "You are right, Horace. I will tell Wini- 
 fred. I must go now." 
 
 I took her to the door. As we parted I 
 grasped her hand and for the first time 
 looked her in the face. I think that repent- 
 ance must have been, clearly written in my 
 looks, for she gazed at me with such a 
 pitiful but forgiving sorrow that it was all I 
 could do to keep the tears from my eyes. I 
 doubt if I quite succeeded. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Wh^n I was by myself my mind was in such 
 a state of tumult that I could not think 
 connectedly. I was madly angry with Bella, 
 and yet when I thought of her my mad 
 passion for her rose up and swamped my 
 anger. I felt that I must either kiss her or 
 kill her, perhaps both. And then again, 
 when the image of Helen came to me, I 
 loathed Bella and I loathed myself. I was 
 quite distracted. 
 
 In time I made up my mind, foolishly 
 perhaps, to go and see her for the last time. 
 Once more I prepared the scene beforehand, 
 and I pictured myself, after beating her down 
 with reproaches, still further crushing her 
 with the generosity which I and Winifred 
 had displayed in forbearing to punish her as 
 
314 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 she deserved. It was a very noble scene, 
 and I acted part of it in front of the glass. 
 To such paltering do most men's minds give 
 way in cases of great emergency. The stormy 
 situations come so seldom in real life that it 
 is most difficult to take them quite seriously ; 
 they always wear a histrionic look. 
 
 As I started out on this memorable day to 
 go to Barnes, I ran against Scovell in the 
 street. His face was bronzed, but he was 
 dressed in entire black. 
 
 " I had to come back from India suddenly," 
 he said in answer to my greeting, "perhaps 
 you heard . . . ." 
 
 I had been so much taken up with my own 
 affairs latterly that I had paid no attention 
 to other matters. 
 
 " I thought possibly you had seen it 
 announced. How are you? You don't look 
 well. And how is Winifred getting on?" 
 
 I made him walk a way with me and told 
 him mostly how we had fared. I did not tell 
 him all. When it came to Winifred, I saw 
 him bite his lip as he listened. 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 315 
 
 "That man was always a brute," he 
 exclaimed. " I wonder you did not see it 
 before." 
 
 And yet there was a kind of wild joy in his 
 eye as he spoke. 
 
 " I will get you to take me to see your sister 
 one day. I should like to see her, but I had 
 better not call alone, eh ? " 
 
 I did not see for a moment what he meant. 
 
 "That man is base enough to make any 
 charge in defence. Don't you see ? Besides, 
 he hates me." 
 
 Soon we parted, and I took a cab to Barnes. 
 As I approached the house I caught sight for 
 a moment of Bella's form at a window. She 
 was gone in a moment. 
 
 The footman told me stolidly that Mrs. St. 
 John-Elliot was not at home. But I intended 
 to have no refusal. I saw that a storm was 
 imminent, but I was determined to see it out. 
 I had something to say and meant to say it. 
 
 "Say," I replied, "that I must see her for 
 a moment on an important matter — " 
 
 The footman came back presently, and I 
 
3i6 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 was shown into the drawing-room. I waited 
 there for fully a quarter of an hour, but Bella 
 did not come. I thought that I was going 
 to be tricked, and that she was probably- 
 taking an opportunity of getting out of the 
 house. 
 
 Presently, however, she entered the room 
 fully dressed for going out. I advanced to 
 greet her in the usual manner, but she made 
 no movement of response. 
 
 " I wonder you have not better manners," 
 she said with icy disdain, " than to force your 
 way into a lady's house. You were at least 
 born in good enough society to understand 
 the meaning of not being at home. However, 
 rather than risk a scene before the servants, 
 I have consented to see you. What do you 
 want?" 
 
 This was not a very promising opening, but 
 I felt that the gravity of the situation made 
 it excusable to break through the ordinary 
 forms of courtesy. 
 
 " I have this morning learnt some very 
 unpleasant news, Bella." 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 317 
 
 She raised her eyebrows menacingly at the 
 mention of her name. 
 
 " Spare me your famiharities, please." 
 
 "And I have come to see you, and to ask 
 for an explanation if you have one to give." 
 
 " I shall give you no explanation at all. I 
 do not wish to see you again." 
 
 " That's all very well," I answered, losing 
 my equanimity, " but you'll have to explain, 
 or there may be difficulties. I came to make 
 you an offer, and it may be as well that you 
 should listen to me." 
 
 " Indeed. You're very kind," and she 
 laughed ironically. " What do you want to 
 know ? " 
 
 " I want to know whether it is true about 
 you and Abinger ? It is disgraceful, it is 
 shameful," I went on with heat, "that 
 knowing what you know, and having been 
 mainly instrumental in this marriage, you 
 should have behaved like this." 
 
 So far I had got through part of my pro- 
 gramme with more or less sneers. What I 
 had not foreseen was what followed. 
 
3i8 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 She turned on me with an expression of 
 rage of which I should not have beUeved her 
 still beautiful face could be capable. 
 
 " So you and your miserable sister have been 
 setting spies on me ! I might have known 
 what to expect from an ill-bred, purse-proud 
 pair of fools like you two. Do you think I 
 care — that ! for your silly sister or for you ? 
 I squeezed you, you wretched little cur, for 
 what you were worth : God knows it was not 
 much ! And I kick you into the gutter like a 
 bit of dirty orange peel. Abinger has done 
 the same for the other idiot, and serve her 
 right ! Now then, what do you want ? 
 Have you come here to try blackmail? 
 If so, you've come to the wrong place. 
 A pretty fellow you to come playing the 
 righteous and indignant brother ! What right 
 have you, I should like to know, to call 
 Abinger, to call me to book ? How do you 
 stand ? " 
 
 I stood very badly, and I knew it. 
 
 "Listen to me, Bella," I said. "I loved 
 you, I still love you, and it is because of that 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 319 
 
 I came to see you. I came to save you from 
 disgrace at all costs. Do you not care for me 
 enough to be reasonable ? " 
 
 " Care for you ? Pff ! If I could have done 
 without your money I would never have allowed 
 you to enter my house. Do you understand 
 that ? And your sister is as bad as your- 
 self." 
 
 I could have stood a good deal myself, but 
 when she turned her tongue on Winifred I 
 fairly bubbled over with rage. 
 
 " Very well," I said, grinding my teeth. 
 " We'll make you co-respondent." 
 
 She laughed aloud. 
 
 " Oh, you will ? Do it. I shall confess to 
 Douglas about you. He may condone others, 
 but he shall not condone yours, and we'll 
 bleed you of every halfpenny you have got. 
 Do it. You two shall be made to look as 
 mean a pair of apes in the witness-box as one 
 ever saw. You shall be the laughing-stock of 
 London. Now do your best and your worst. 
 And in addition I'll have you thrashed on 
 your club steps. There are plenty to do it. 
 
320 
 
 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 not forgetting one or two racing men. Now 
 
 go!" 
 
 She rang the bell. When the footman 
 came, she said, — 
 
 " Show this person out, and don't let him 
 come here again/* 
 
 If ever a dazed man went home, that man 
 was I. Bella had beaten me at every point. 
 She knew only too well that the scandal that 
 would be raised would kill Winifred, and drive 
 me to madness. I dimly apprehended the 
 figure I should cut in the witness-box in the 
 hands of a clever counsel. It made me pale 
 and sick to think of it. For in spite of her 
 violence and her vulgarity there was no small 
 amount of truth underlying what Bella had 
 said. 
 
 Bella was not joined in the suit of Abinger 
 against Abinger. But she made me feel her 
 anger nevertheless : I was not actually assaulted 
 in the street, but London was made too hot 
 for me. I only knew people in the set in 
 which Bella was a kind of queen, and I soon 
 discovered the extent of her power. The men 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 321 
 
 were only too willing to obey her behests ioX; 
 the sake of the favours she had to bestow, as 
 indeed I had been before. I was snubbed, I 
 was cut, men whispered behind their hands 
 to one another when I appeared, duns from 
 every direction came down upon me, my 
 credit was gone, Salmon became nasty about 
 his bills and declined to renew, summonses, 
 writs, petitions in bankruptcy, poured in upon 
 me, until I did not know which way to turn. 
 There was no more miserable creature than I 
 during the next few months. From all this 
 storm there was but one place of shelter, the 
 lodging of Winifred and Helen. There I 
 got advice and comfort, and kind words and 
 affection. For the first time in my life I 
 saw the power for good that a good woman 
 holds. It is a revelation which may never come 
 to some men in the whole course of their lives, 
 and I shall never regret the evils that came 
 upon me at that time, if only because they 
 opened up to me this wonder. 
 
 The efifect of all these things was to break 
 down my health, and in the ensuing winter 
 
3^5 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 I went to the South of France, leaving my 
 affairs in the hands of my solicitors, with 
 instructions to keep things smooth until I 
 was able to attend to them myself. 
 
CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 I WAS to endeavour to be quiet, but cheerful. 
 Those were the doctor's orders. I think he 
 had some fear that the trouble through which 
 I had gone, and the worries I was subjected 
 to might upset my mind if allowed to go on. 
 Perhaps he was right. There are many 
 cases like mine. 
 
 It is hard for me to believe now, and quite 
 impossible to convince others, how much I 
 had felt the rupture with Bella. I know that 
 ordinary, phlegmatic, comfortable people 
 must either think me an idiot or a humbug. 
 After Bella's atrocious conduct it should 
 have been impossible for me to have any 
 other sentiment towards her than one of 
 lofty contempt. I tried at first to cultivate 
 this attitude, only to find in the end that I 
 
324 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 was vainly endeavoring to masquerade 
 before myself. Lofty contempt was by no 
 means my true feeling. It was broken- 
 heartedness. Does this sound absurd ? I 
 have a fancy that any other man in my posi- 
 tion, if he dared confess truly, would have 
 the same story to tell. Of course, it is all 
 very weak, very wrong, very immoral, but 
 I believe that the average man is that. Some 
 men never have the experience, others never 
 have the awakening. These have no right to 
 speak. Had my life been placed in other 
 circumstances, I might have been a shining 
 light of orthodox nonconformity, and have 
 honestly held up my hands in virtuous indig- 
 nation at the wickedness of society. But I 
 found myself where I was, and not elsewhere, 
 with the result described. 
 
 Not only did the loss of Bella prey upon 
 my mind (for I knew that I had lost her, 
 though I am sure that even at that time I 
 would have gone back had it been possible), 
 but the complexity of my afifairs generally 
 began to put the fear into me in a manner 
 
A BIT OF A FOOi: 325 
 
 not really warranted by their nature. AlthougH 
 all round I was in what Is generally called 
 " a mess." there was really nothing at all 
 desperate about my circumstances, and had 
 I been thrown into bankruptcy I could have 
 settled in full, and got my discharge at once. 
 But my mind refused to grasp this position 
 firmly, and I lived in a state of continual 
 dread. Every knock at the door, every letter 
 made me turn cold and dizzy. I shunned 
 my accustomed streets, and preferred to goi 
 out only after nightfall. Some one also re- 
 marked that I walked differently, with a 
 want of certainty in my steps, all whicH 
 goes to show that I was in full career for a 
 serious nervous breakdown. 
 
 Quiet and cheerful surroundings were the 
 prescription, and I was advised to spend three 
 months at Mentone. Above all things, I 
 was to avoid excitement and worry. 
 
 I had had enough of such things for the 
 present, and the first month or two of my 
 sojourn I obeyed the doctor's orders with 
 surprising fidelity, I piended rapidly. The 
 
S26 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 impression of Bella began to fade, and 
 something very much like contempt took the 
 place of my former feelings. And strangely 
 with this, the impression of Helen grew more 
 vivid, so that I began to look forward with 
 impatience to the time that I should see her 
 again. In addition to this, my aflairs began 
 to assume quite a rosy appearance, and I found 
 myself wondering what I had been afraid of. 
 
 I heard from Winifred from time to time, 
 and I looked forward to receiving these 
 letters, replying to them voluminously, a 
 strange thing for me, who had always detested 
 letter- writing above all things. Among the 
 news that gave me most satisfaction was that 
 announcing that other sufScient evidence had 
 been obtained against Abinger, and that a 
 petition had been filed. Moreover, there was 
 no doubt now that Winifred would be well 
 provided for. By the unexpected death of 
 two persons, Abinger had succeeded to his 
 reversion, which was a considerable fortune, 
 and therefore, if the suit were successful, 
 Winifred would obtain proper alimony. 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 327 
 
 As time went on, I began to chafe under 
 the obHgations of my medical orders, and I 
 longed for a little excitement of some sort 
 Wonderfully obedient, I had not even allowed 
 myself to pay a visit to Nice or Monte Carlo, 
 and my first breach of regulations was a 
 visit to the opera at the former place. I felt 
 none the worse, but, on the contrary, 
 decidedly the better for my change, and I 
 thought that I should be doing no great 
 harm if I went one step further and paid a 
 little visit to Monte Carlo, just as a spectator. 
 I determined to go in the evening, as I should 
 '^be less likely to run up against anyone I knew. 
 Although I was only going to look on I put 
 a few bank notes in my pocket before starting, 
 in case of accidents. 
 
 I arrived at the principality in the midst of a 
 mild excitement. Some unfortunate gambler 
 had shot himself in the grounds, but had not 
 succeeded in doing it thoroughly. This is a 
 far too common occurrence to create any great 
 stir, but it is usually accompanied by a mild 
 flutter among the g^amblers^ and the tables are 
 
328 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 not quite so full for the next hour after it 
 becomes known. 
 
 I was unable to discover the unfortunate 
 man's name for some time, but at last a 
 casual stranger told me he had heard it was 
 Wynne. 
 
 I was apparently in for more excitement 
 than I had anticipated. I approached the 
 atAthorities, and, in face of great difficulty, 
 ascertained that it was indeed my cousin. I 
 undertook, the charge of him, and with the 
 assistance of the doctor got him back to my 
 hotel in Mentone. I said nothing to them at 
 home of the affair, and in time Wynne began to 
 pull round. It was a close thing at first, but 
 we got him through. 
 
 It was not for two weeks that I asked him 
 anything about himself. I had noticed his 
 wild and dissipated appearance, and I easily 
 guessed where my thousand pounds had gone. 
 In answer to his questions, I merely said that 
 I was staying there for amusement, and he 
 asked no more. In time he was able to go out, 
 and one lovely day, as we sat looking" over the 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 329 
 
 Mediterranean — it was really blue^ — I asked 
 him how it came about. 
 
 He leaned his face on his hands and did not 
 answer me for some time. 
 
 " That cursed woman ! " he said at length, 
 more to himself than to me. 
 
 " Come Percy," I said, " we are cousins. 
 Perhaps we haven't always been to one another 
 what we should have been, but things are 
 different now. I'll tell you all about myself 
 some time, but anyhow I'll say at once I have 
 chucked all that silliness of mine, and — well, 
 I'm going to do differently in future. Now I 
 want to hear about you. Don't be afraid. I 
 can be a good pal. If you did me in any way, 
 never mind ; it is all forgiven and forgotten, and 
 I'm going to see you straight again. I suppose 
 you have been fooled by some woman. IVe 
 been in the same box, so I know, and can excuse 
 any madness. God knows I need excuse ! " 
 
 I saw Wynne's eyes fill with tears, and his 
 throat was too lumpy to speak. He just held 
 out his hand and I took it. I left him alone, 
 and we two just gazed out over the sea, 
 
330 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 " You remember — that — woman," he said at 
 length. 
 
 " Bianca ?" 
 
 Wynne nodded. 
 
 " I married her," he continued. "She made 
 me — you know what I mean. I was an ass, 
 and a jealous ass. No, I was a blackguard, a 
 damned scoundrel, that's what I was. What* s 
 the good of mincing matters ? You shall know 
 why directly." 
 
 He paused. I said nothing. 
 
 " She couldn't catch your father ; she 
 couldn't catch you. She caught me, and then 
 she began her infernal work. She used every 
 art, more than were known to Delilah or Lady 
 Macbeth, to madden me against you, and she 
 succeeded only too well. I am not going to 
 excuse myself one bit. When I've told you, 
 you can do as you like. I'm too miserable to 
 care." 
 
 He paused again. 
 
 " I began by trying to rum you on the Stock 
 Exchange. Of course I swindled you over that 
 business. I wonder you did not guess as much. 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 331 
 
 Emboldened by success, I went further. I 
 next went to your guardians and lied freely 
 about you. That had the effect of stopping 
 you from touching the estate, and of getting 
 you into difficulties. I also — but I don't know 
 — How has Abinger turned out ? " 
 
 " A blackguard," I said with warmth. 
 
 " I persuaded the guardians again that he was 
 an admirable man in every way. I knew very 
 differently. I — " (a lump in his throat checked 
 his speech) " in fact, I did everything I could 
 to injure you. But without complete success. 
 Meanwhile she squandered, perhaps we 
 squandered, what money I had, for we lived 
 upon hope. But hope was long deferred. In 
 desperation I borrowed that thousand pounds 
 of you, and came over here to try to improve 
 our fortune at the tables. We ran many 
 risks, but were not discovered. She played 
 decoy, and I robbed when I could. You can 
 guess how that can be done at those tables 
 when rich mugs are playing. More than once 
 we nearly made a mistake and only squeezed 
 out of it by a hair's breadth. We quarrelled, 
 
332 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 I need not tell you. She did what she pleased, 
 and I, for infatuation of her, accepted the 
 basest of positions. We blackmailed several 
 times with success, I playing the indignant 
 husband, and she the frail and erring wife. 
 The poor fools knew only too well that I 
 should have been acquitted by an impression- 
 able jury if I had killed them on the spot. 
 
 " Then one day by chance her husband turned 
 up. She had been married before and had 
 got away from him. That was the end. 
 What became of her I don't know. Mad and 
 desperate, I gambled on to my last louis and lost. 
 Then I tried to put an end to my life, and 
 failed again. Now you know." 
 
 I could say nothing. I could only look at 
 him in pity, and grasp his hand. I felt no 
 resentment. He looked at me with a kind of 
 wonder for a moment, and then withdrew his 
 hand. 
 
 " I have forgotten something," he said in a 
 strange, hard tone. " I ought to have men- 
 tioned it before. I let the boom swing across 
 on purpose." 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 333 
 
 "You did me the greatest favour you could 
 have done," I answered. "That was the 
 beginning of the end. Thank you, Percy." 
 
 I fancy he thought I was mad. 
 
CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 I S'TAYED a month or two longer until Percy 
 was quite well. I only wrote home that I 
 had found him there ill, and no one knew 
 anything more. These little incidents at 
 Monte Carlo are not fully reported. 
 
 Before going home, one other event 
 happened which should be recorded. I had 
 run over again to Monte Carlo. I was alone, 
 as Wynne absolutely refused to set foot in 
 the place again. As I strolled along the 
 terrace, my attention was attracted to two 
 persons, a gentleman and lady approaching 
 from the opposite direction. There was 
 something about the lady which looked to 
 me familiar. On coming nearer I recognized 
 Nelly. She was looking very graceful and 
 stately in an elaborate toilette. 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 335 
 
 The man with her I recognized as Lord 
 Petherick, only son of Lord Padstow. I knew 
 him slightly as a member of my club, and an 
 occasional visitor at the St. John-Elliots. 
 
 I was doubtful for a moment what to do, 
 but seeing no successful means of escape, I 
 decided to walk on. I was really curious to 
 see what course Nelly would take. I expected 
 she would cut me, which, seeing what out 
 relationship had been, would be only natural. 
 Contrary to my expectation, she bowled most 
 aristocratically, and I raised my hat. At the 
 same moment Petherick saw me, and greeted 
 me efifusively. He was a brainless, but other- 
 wise harmless young man. 
 
 " Oh, I say. Manners," he cried, " let me 
 introduce you to my wife." 
 
 I did not suppose there was a man in the 
 set who did not know of the liaison of myself 
 and Elaine Soyer, and therefore I concluded 
 that Petherick was either very foolish or very 
 clever. I held out my hand. 
 
 " We have met before," — Nelly frowned a 
 
336 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 little, — " upon one occasion, at Henley, I 
 think." 
 
 " Yes, indeed, I remember Mr. Manners 
 quite well," answered Lady Petherick, with 
 completely exquisite assumption. "A most 
 enjoyable day, wasn't it ? " 
 
 I walked with them a little way until 
 Petherick went off to buy an English paper 
 at a kiosk. 
 
 " I'm glad to see you again, Horace, old 
 man," Nelly said. " We're good friends, 
 aren't we ? " 
 
 " Of course, Nelly." 
 
 " You see, I have justified you, after all. 
 We couldn't go on for ever as we were. I was 
 awfully sorry about the breach of promise 
 business, but my manager insisted on it. He 
 was awfully annoyed when you settled it out of 
 court. He wanted an ad. But I've caught 
 my fish. He's not very brilliant, but he's 
 really an awfully good sort, and I mean to 
 look after him, and run as straight as an arrow 
 myself. If I do, I shall be Lady Padstow 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 337 
 
 before long. The old chap must be eighty, 
 if he's a day. Wish me luck." 
 
 I did, and I meant it sincerely. 
 
 In a questionable way I had undoubtedly 
 done good to both Nelly and Petherick, for 
 I felt sure she would make him an excel- 
 lent wife, and I was somehow unable to feel 
 ashamed of myself. 
 
 I returned to town with Wynne. Winifred's 
 divorce came off quite successfully, for the 
 gallant captain declined to defend. My affairs 
 had been straigthened out a bit. Most of 
 the creditors were quite reasonable when 
 they knew that they were really quite 
 safe to get payment in full. Creditors are 
 generally very reasonable. After all they 
 are only men, and not a special class, 
 the enemies of society, as one is apt 
 to consider them. The only one who de- 
 clined to budge an inch was Salmon. He 
 said that he had no objection to waiting, 
 only he wished to settle with me personally, 
 and would have nothing to do with solicitors. 
 
 In due time I came into my property. I 
 
338 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 had played sad havoc with my fortune in 
 these ten years, nearly two hundred thousand 
 being required to settle my liabilities. Of 
 this, eighty thousand was on Salmon's 
 account. I had had from him cash less than 
 half that sum, and I determined to see if he 
 were really the good fellow that he had the 
 reputation of being. It was the vogue to 
 say that Salmon was at heart a " good old 
 cock," or some other slangy phrase which is a 
 translation for bonhomie. 
 
 I accordingly went to see him at his office. 
 He received me with his usual cordialty, 
 and produced the cigars and champagne 
 according to custom. 
 
 " I've come to settle," I said. 
 
 " Don't trouble, Mr. Manners," he said, 
 with bubbling good nature. '' I never 
 doubted you for a moment. You know that 
 I deal with gentlemen, and gentlemen are 
 gentlemen. I'm only too delighted to be able 
 to oblige them now and then. We are all in 
 difficulties at times, and it would be hard if 
 we couldn't stretch a hand to help one another 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 339 
 
 at a pinch. Don't trouble about it now, 
 any time will do for me." 
 
 " No time like now," I said. 
 
 "True, true. Of course, if you wish, I 
 won't stand in your way," and he laughed 
 boisterously at his own humour. " You know 
 Mr. Manners, I like to settle with my gentle- 
 men themselves. I never have anything to do 
 with lawyers. They have only one idea, to 
 skin both sides for their own benefit. I wanted 
 to deal direct with you, as we had always 
 dealt before. It is much better, I think, 
 don't you ? It was very sorry to learn you 
 were ill. You were really, I believe. Some 
 of them are not, you know. You don't sup- 
 pose I should have troubled you if I had 
 known." 
 
 Really Mr. Salmon seemed to be a most 
 kind-hearted man, and his sentiments were 
 most creditable to him. 
 
 " Now, look here, Salmon," I said, " you're 
 getting paid a bit sooner than you expected. 
 You know how much I've really had. What 
 will you take down to settle up ? " 
 
340 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 He laughed again boisterously. 
 
 "You're good at a joke, Mr. Manners, 
 really you are. Come, now, I'll make an offer. 
 I'll take eighty thousand." 
 
 I did not laugh, but I put it again to him 
 seriously. 
 
 He did not laugh either this time. 
 
 " Come now, my dear young sir, that's not 
 quite — quite playing the game. You came to 
 ask my assistance, and you made me what 
 was on the whole a very fair offer ; I don't 
 say otherwise. I didn't want to see you in 
 difficulties, and I took the risk. Having taken 
 the risk and pulled it off, you now come to 
 ask me to take less than you offered. Is 
 that quite fair ? It was in the nature of a 
 bet, and I have won the bet. You would 
 be surprised if your bookmaker, whom you 
 had landed a twenty to one chance, asked 
 you to take ten to one. No, no young sir, 
 that's not the game." 
 
 Of course his argument and his analogy 
 were all wrong, but it partly deceived me at 
 the moment. Moreover, if there was one 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 341 
 
 thing I dreaded it was being considered mean, 
 or to have gone back on my promise. 
 
 I drew the cheque for eighty thousand and 
 we parted. I should have got less bonhomie^ 
 but better business with a bank. 
 
 The settlement of my debts had almost 
 eaten up my personality, and little besides 
 Walcote was left to me. However, the estate 
 had been kept in excellent order and was 
 unencumbered by mortgages, and I was not 
 badly off, although not rich. I determined 
 to settle down for good at Walcote, and I no 
 longer found it the trouble that I had thought 
 it before. It was glad to be at rest. 
 
 It needed but a very short experience of a 
 squire's life to discover one thing, which was 
 that it was an impossible position without a 
 wife. 
 
 My thoughts turned again and again in 
 one direction, towards Helen. But still J 
 hesitated. She knew so much of my past 
 life, in fact I think she knew it all pretty 
 well, that I feared she might refuse me. 
 Besides, she had never exhibited the faintest 
 
342 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 sign of anything more than a sisterly affection 
 for me. 
 
 However, at length I determined to risk it, 
 but first to broach the subject to Winifred. 
 This is where a sister comes in usefully. 
 
 Winifred was overjoyed. 
 
 " Horace," she said, " I'll tell you a secret I 
 know, but never repeat it. Helen has been in 
 love with you from the first." 
 
 That made matters easier. 
 
 One lovely June evening, wandering through 
 the park at Walcote, I spoke to Helen. 
 
 " You know all my past. There is nothing 
 hidden from you, and I wish to hide nothing. 
 I can only say that I do not think I have 
 willingly wronged a living creature. Do you, 
 can you, knowing what you do, love me ? " 
 
 " I think, dear," she answered, " that I 
 love you all the more. There is no erasing 
 it — indeed the more one reasons the more 
 does it appear to be entirely wrong. I know 
 that I ought to be so much shocked, so 
 much horrified at the revelation of your 
 vicious past (I am quoting the Pharisees), 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 343 
 
 that I should shrink away from you in pitiful 
 disgust. My innocence ought to dread the 
 contamination of your touch, but it doesn't ; 
 I don't. Women are made that way, and it 
 is useless to argue about it." 
 
 " But," I argued in an ectasy of delight 
 which wanted to torture itself for my own 
 happiness, "are you not afraid that at some 
 time in the future you may, even without 
 reason, become jealous ? " 
 
 " Jealous ? Of whom ? Of your old lovers ? 
 Of future lovers ? No, Horace dear, it may 
 be inordinate vanity on my part, but I have 
 the utmost confidence in my own influence 
 and attractiveness, and am firmly convinced 
 of my ability, as far as you are concerned, 
 to knock out all rivals in the first round." 
 
 Helen was quite right. I have admired 
 other women since then. What man with an 
 eye for beauty would not ? We find that 
 we generally agree upon a girl's good looks. 
 But I have never felt in the least attracted 
 towards one. I do not hope to find Helen's 
 equal this side of Paradise. 
 
344 A BIT OF A FOOL 
 
 There is little more to be said, I made 
 Wynne my steward, and I can only say that 
 the estate was never in such apple-pie order 
 before. The tenants are absolutely contented. 
 The farmers do not grumble more than is 
 their right. They have not gone the length 
 yet of making the landlord responsible for 
 the weather. I do not quarrel with the 
 parson, who, as luck has it, is about the only 
 sensible parson I ever came across. He is 
 an excellent minister, an agreeable companion 
 and a first-rate sportsman. Our young rustics 
 do not go off to London, but prefer to stay 
 where they are. We even down here make 
 farming a fairly profitable occupation. I 
 take an enormous interest in the parish and 
 county councils, and am regarded, I believe 
 as a sort of progressive-moderate. Helen has 
 recently been elected an alderman, which 
 makes me feel small, as I have not 
 yet attained to that dignity. I believe she was 
 what they call co-opted. Anyhow she is very 
 popular. 
 
 Within a year after the decree nisi was made 
 
A BIT OF A FOOL 345 
 
 absolute, Winifred married Scovell. They 
 are very well off, for Scovell's people had a 
 lot of money. He is an M.P. now. 
 
 "I believe," Winifred said, "that I should 
 have married him at first if he had not been 
 so fond of paradox. A girl doesn't like her 
 wedding to be regarded as a paradox." 
 
 " Which it was," SQ?vell said. 
 
 Looking back on things now, I do not 
 think I was more nor better than the average 
 of young men in my position. It is perhaps 
 not noble to represent merely an average, but 
 it is not my fault that I was born a bit of a 
 fool. 
 
 Th:^ end. 
 
A Few Press Opinions on 
 
 The Mist on the Moors 
 
 By JOSEPH HOCKING 
 
 Small 12mOf Clothf Illustrated, 7S Cents, 
 
 Washington Times 
 
 By the addition of " Mist on the Moors" to their catalogue, R. F. 
 Fenno & Co. have made a distinct qualitative advancement. It is 
 wholesome as well as diverting, and Dears evidence of literary skill 
 to a finished degree. The story is by Joseph Hocking, a reverend, I 
 believe, who is also known as the author of "All Men Are I,iars," 
 and a good novel with the rather more optimistic title, "The Story 
 of Andrew Fairfax." Mr. Hocking is an Fnglishman, and his story 
 is Fnglish in locale and personnel. The scenes are laid in North 
 Cornwall, partly on the Altarnum Moors, and we are introduced to 
 four or five characters, typical of a people who pass their lives far 
 from the noise and bustle of city life, and who seem truer and stur- 
 dier for their intimate communion with nature. 
 
 5an Francisco Bulletin 
 
 Fascinating indeed is " The Mist on the Moors," a bright novel 
 from the pen of Joseph Hocking, author of " The Story of Andrew 
 Fairfax," and the stamp of approval has been placed on the work by 
 all clever people. The story is a tale of life in North Cornwall, and 
 is fully up to the author's brilliant style. Told only as Hockiug can 
 tell a story, and teeming with clever illustrations by F. A. Carter, the 
 success of " The Mist on the Moors " is already assured. 
 
 Hartford Post 
 
 " The Mist on the Moors " affects to tell a fresh and interesting 
 tale in which the characters are the simple folk who live far out from 
 town, and who talk in a dialect of their own. The scene is laid in 
 North Cornwall, and the book is well illustrated. The author is Rev. 
 Joseph Hocking. 
 
 Philadelphia Press 
 
 Another novel by Joseph Hocking is welcomed by those interested 
 in healthy fiction that is free from the taint of pessimism. " The 
 Mist on the Moors " is a further insistence of the ability of man to 
 work out his own salvation in the old-fashioned God-iearing way. 
 
 Buffalo Express 
 
 " The Mist on the Moors" is the title of a pretty romance of North 
 Cornwall by Joseph Hocking. It is the love story of a young Cornish 
 " gentleman farmer " told in a plain, straightforward way which is 
 very pleasing. The local flavor of the book is strong and the wild 
 scenery of the Cornish ntoors is graphically depicted ; altogether it is 
 a vety readable little novel. The volume is attractively txnmd aad 
 printed. 
 
 R. P. P1SNN0 & COMPANY, lis PIftfc Av0., K Y, 
 
A Few Press Opinions on 
 
 A Little Wia;ard 
 
 By STANLEY J. WEYMAN 
 
 x6iiio, Clotb, 50 Cents 
 New York Times 
 
 " Mr. Weyman now builds his romance on English soil. The t!mt 
 is the beginning of the Puritan uprising, before the firm establialf 
 ment of the Commonwealth, and the personages are Roundhead* 
 and Cavaliers. That is to say, the small boy and his fugitive brother, 
 who are the most sympathetic characters in the story, represent the 
 Royalist class, and they are set among crack-brained fanatics, eniy' 
 eling hypocrites, and sturdy, well-meaning dissenters. There is a 
 strong and convincing sketch of Cromwell before he had reached 
 the zenith of his power, which is quite in Mr. Weyman's best vein. 
 
 " The little story, which seems to have been intended as a boy»' 
 book, is well devised and the interest is maintained to an abrupt and 
 startling denouement. There are no battles, but there is an admir- 
 able description of a march of Cromwell's troops across the wet 
 moors, and Mr. Weyman's strong feeling for landscape efifects, 
 which so greatly helps the interest of all his romances, pervades tlii3 
 little story." 
 
 Christian Advocate 
 
 *' A new historical tale by Stanley J. Wejnman is set in the time of 
 Cromwell, just after the battles of Marston Moor and Naseby, and 
 before the surrender by the Scots' army of Charles I. It is called 
 •A I^ittle Wizard,' and recites incidents in the careers of two 
 youthful sons of a Cavalier gentleman who has sacrificed his life to 
 the Royalist cause, and one of whom— the I,ittle Wizard— figures 
 pathetically in the story, under the care of a faithless family serv- 
 itor who has sinister connections with the Puritan Roundhead*. 
 The story has much of the literary and historic charm which mark* 
 all of Mr. Weyman's works, and it will find many interested reader*. 
 It is illustrated, and has a portrait of the author." 
 
 RJ5. FENNO & COMPANY, 1 12 Fifth Avenu e. New Yw* 
 
A Few Press Opinions on 
 
 A Living: Lie 
 
 By PAUL BOURGEr 
 
 12mOf Clothf $1.23; JPaper Covers, 50 cents. 
 
 Scotsman 
 
 Mr. de Vallieres' translation leaves nothing to be desired, and 
 deserves the thanks of English readers for having rendered acces- 
 sible to them a masterpiece of minute analysis of character and 
 feeling. 
 
 Pall nail Gazette 
 
 M. Bourget's celebrated novel. ... It is good to find a transla- 
 tion of a popular French novel so well done as this is, and the 
 vivid picture of Parisian life loses nothing of its force or truth in 
 its English dress. 
 
 World 
 
 " Mensonges " is undoubtedly a clever story, and the present vet- 
 sion is excellent. 
 
 Vanity Fair 
 
 The book itself is an education : the very greatest novel of analy* 
 sis and character France has produced since Balzac. 
 
 New York Commercial Advertiser 
 
 " A lyiving I^ie," published in this country by Fenno, is one of 
 the earlier works of Paul Burget, and one that shows both the 
 weakness and strength of his methods. In an introduction written 
 to the transtlation, the author speaks of his humble decipleship of 
 Flaubert and Zola, ard perhaps none of Bourget's novels better 
 than this recent translation will show better how closely the stu- 
 dent has followed the masters, especially the former. But one 
 man could write "Madame Borany," and that was Flaubert, but 
 there are portions of '• Mensonges " that would lead one to believe 
 that M. Bourget +hought that he might have written it himself. 
 Madame Borany'a- meeting with her lover in a house of ill-fame 
 and Rene's meetings with his mistress might even seem to some 
 as an illustration of where the pupil had learned his lesson too 
 well. 
 
 As for the story itself there is no need of rehearsing that. It is 
 strong, and viewed from the point of fiction is good. But since M. 
 Bourget aspires to be something more than novelist, to be an an- 
 alysist, a psychologist and feminologist, it would be wrong to ig- 
 nore what he considers his best labor. Perhaps it would not be 
 malapropos to q^uote, in relation to M. Bourget's study of women 
 and women's mind, what Nietzsche has written, that we are puz- 
 zled when we try to probe women's mind, not because it is so deep, 
 not because it has no bottom— "it is not even shallow." Which is 
 basely cynical, and anyway it was written by a man who is 
 now in a mad house. But, nevertheless, it is a good sentence to 
 bear in mind when one is reading the works of a feminologist. 
 There is no doubt of M. Bourget's intuitive powers. True, that 
 too frequently does he afiirm with unbecoming and exultant de- 
 K^ht and misplaced passion that two and two are four, but often 
 this leads to the higher and more complicated problems, such as 
 four and four are eight. Surely M. Bourget is an analyst, but he 
 ^ends too much time analyzing very obvious brick walls. 
 
 But, " A I,iving l,ie " is good fiction, if it is not good literature. 
 It is well translated. 
 
 R. F. FENNO & COMPANY, 112 Fifth Ave., N. Y. 
 
A Few Press Opinions on 
 
 Robert Urquhart 
 
 By GABRIEL SETOUN 
 
 12niOi Cloth, Illustrated, $1.00; Paper Covers, ao Cents 
 
 The Outlook 
 
 " Robert Urquhart," by Gabriel Setoun, is a Scotch story possess- 
 ing a certain degree of strength. Courageous indeed is the writer 
 to-day who brings his work in contrast with that of Ian Maclare*. 
 Crockett, and J. M. Barrie. Comparison between these masters and 
 the lesser lights there cannot be. 
 
 Toledo Blade 
 
 In "Robert Urquhart," by Gabriel Setoun, the lovers of Scotch 
 stories will experience a delight the same as felt in the reading of 
 "The I/ilac Sunbonnet," "Beside the Bonnie Brier Bush," "The 
 I^ittle Minister," and other novels and tales in which are found 
 tender pathos, delicate humor and a dramatic construction. The 
 character of old Rob cannot fail to impress all readers, winning 
 their love by his simple kindness ; while the schoolmaster's sturdy 
 manliness calls forth feeling of liking and respect, with a desire 
 that he shall gain hi» heart's wish. The story is well worth a 
 reading. 
 
 5unday Times 
 
 £,overs of a good story, which is at the same time good literature, 
 and especially lovers of the Scotch atmosphere and temperament, 
 will enjoy " Robert Urquhart." This is a new book by Gabriel 
 Setoun, published by R, F. Fenno & Company. The central char- 
 acter is a school teacher, not the periwig old goose who has so long 
 been strutting, conventional to a hair through Scotch stories, but a 
 mian of head and heart endowments which appeal to the head and 
 the heart for our belief, sympathy and love. If Mr. Setoun had not 
 the originality to lead the way, he has at least the genius to follow 
 with highest credit in the paths of Barrie, Maclaren and Crockett, 
 and who will say it is not as hard to follow creditably in beaten 
 paths as to charm public fancy with a trifle when it is new ? 
 
 Times-Union 
 
 " Robert Urquhart." This is an entertaining novel, well wrltt«i, 
 with a good plot and with many of the essentials of a book of the 
 highest character. Its pretty binding should also be mentioned, and 
 in this it suggests itself as a present to a friend. Its author is Gabriel 
 Setoun. It is a Scotch tale. Its pathos is as sweet, its humor as deli- 
 cate, its construction as dramatic and its characters as lovable as any 
 to be found in the other Scottish stories which have caught th« fancy. 
 
 Kansas City Journal 
 
 An American edition of " Robert Urquhart " will attract the atton* 
 tlon of many thousands who have read and enjoyed " The Wlac Sun- 
 bonnet " "A Galloway Herd," " Beside the Bonnie Brier Bush," and 
 \ " The I^lttle Minister " and they will find within its covers a pathos 
 
 I as sweet, a humor as delicate, a construction as dramatic, ana char- 
 
 [y acters aa lovable as are to be found in any of the above-mezitlo«ed 
 
 works. 
 
 R. P. FEKNO & COMPANY, 112 Fifth ATeaue, K. Y. 
 
A Few Press Opinions on 
 
 The Unclassed 
 
 By GEORGE GISSESTG 
 
 Wm* QktOk, Illustrated, $1.25; Paper Covers, SO CmxtB 
 
 @«tlook 
 
 It shows remarkable powers of observation and realistic 
 reproduction of certain phases of life. It deals with the 
 life of the ** unclassed " very bluntly, and with unneces- 
 sary detail, but there is no intention to pervert morals. 
 
 Boston Post 
 
 The story is full of strong and telling situations, a 
 story in which the realism often impinges closely upon 
 the ideal. In many places the book is absorbing in its 
 interest. 
 
 N. Y. Advertiser 
 
 It is a story of the struggling ones, struggling against 
 and for class distinction ; struggling to keep from going 
 down into the *' lowest class ; " struggling to reach the 
 class where bread and butter are not the only living 
 cries. 
 
 Buffalo Commercial 
 
 Mr. Gissing has secured a place in the front rank of 
 the best English novelists, and any story of which he is 
 the author will be widely and eagerly read, ** The Un- 
 classed " is a thrilling, intensely dramatic story. 
 
 fleadville Stylus 
 
 Ida Starr is a child of ten years when the story opens. 
 It closes with her marriage. We are i)ermittea to ob- 
 serve her character in all the stages of its development 
 from a childhood all love and gentleness, through a 
 jolitary and defenseless girlhood spent in a desperate 
 struggle against the poverty that ends in starvation, 
 through her temptation, her fall, and her redemption 
 through love. There are, curiously enough, no traces 
 of the influence of the naturalistics chool in Mr. Gis- 
 sing's work. The entire story is planned and wrought 
 out with the greatest imaginable delicacy. 
 
 it. P. FBNNO & COMPANY, 112 Rfth Ayc, M. T.