UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 AT LOS ANGELES 
 

 1 - 
 
The Works of Leonard Merrick 
 
 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
The Works of 
 
 LEONARD MERRICK 
 
 CONRAD IN QUEST OF HIS YOUTH. With 
 an Introduction by Sra J. M. BARRIE. 
 
 WHEN LOVE FLIES OUT O' THE WINDOW. 
 With an Introduction by SIR WILLIAM ROBERT- 
 SON NICOLL. 
 
 THE QUAINT COMPANIONS. With an Intro- 
 duction by H. G. WELLS. 
 
 THE POSITION OF PEGGY HARPER. With 
 an Introduction by SIR ARTHUR PINERO. 
 
 THE MAN WHO UNDERSTOOD WOMEN and 
 other Stories. ' With an Introduction by W. J. 
 LOCKE. 
 
 THE WORLDLINGS. With an Introduction by 
 NEIL MUNRO. 
 
 THE ACTOR-MANAGER. With an Introduction 
 by W. D. HOWELLS. 
 
 CYNTHIA. With an Introduction by MAURICE 
 HEWLETT. 
 
 ONE MAN'S VIEW. With an Introduction by 
 GRANVILLE BARKER. 
 
 THE MAN WHO WAS GOOD. With an Intro- 
 duction by J. K. PROTHERO. 
 
 A CHAIR ON THE BOULEVARD. With an 
 Introduction by A. NEIL LYONS. 
 
 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH. With an Introduc- 
 tion by G. K. CHESTERTON. 
 
 WHILE PARIS LAUGHED: BEING PRANKS AND 
 PASSIONS OF THE POET TRICOTRIN. 
 
 NEW YORK 
 E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY 
 
THE 
 HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 Li' 
 
 WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY 
 a K. CHESTERTON 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 E. P. DUTTON AND COMPANY 
 
 681 FIFTH AVENUE 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1919, 
 BY E. P. DUTTON AND COMPANY 
 
 All Rights Reserved 
 
 The First American Definitive Edition, with Introduction by 
 
 G. K. Chesterton, limited to 1550 copies 
 
 (of which only 1500 were for sale) 
 
 Published, December, 1919. 
 Second American Edition, September, 1920 
 Third 1926 
 
 Fourth " 1920 
 
 Fifth " " " 1923 
 
 Printed in the United States of America 
 

 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 T*> 
 
 MR. LEONARD MERRICK, in most of his books, 
 
 and as some think in the best of his books, has 
 been concerned with the comedy of Bohemia. 
 He has delighted the world with many tales of 
 that unworldly optimism and that equally un- 
 o worldly opportunism. In The House of Lynch, 
 v doubtless, he strikes a graver and perhaps even a 
 g sterner note. It might be said to touch not the 
 comedy of Bohemia but the tragedy of Bohemia. 
 Or if the issue of the story is too triumphant to 
 be called tragic, the treatment of it can at least 
 be called comparatively realistic. The sincerity 
 of the study can hardly be appreciated properly 
 without some memory of the brilliant carnival 
 of inconsequence associated with his better- 
 known books. For The House of Lynch is, 
 among other things, the study of the real struggle 
 of an artist against real difficulties, which he has 
 defied for a reason that is not fantastic, even if 
 some would call it fanatical. He is one for 
 whom being poor and honest is a fighting paradox 
 ,and not a faded truism. No book is full of a 
 
 361336 
 
vi INTRODUCTION 
 
 finer laughter than Conrad in Quest of His 
 Youth; but it is rather enriched by the irony 
 which reminds us throughout that Conrad had a 
 little too much money. If it could have been 
 called "Conrad in Quest of His Life," in the 
 sense of his livelihood, the story might possibly 
 have been more happy if less humorous. I am, 
 myself, especially attracted by the adventures of 
 the impecunious poet in While Paris Laughed; 
 but Mr. Merrick is too much of an artist to treat 
 in the same way the pugnacious poverty in The 
 House of Lynch. He does not confuse a peas- 
 ant's toil to get a living with a vagabond's trick 
 to get a lodging. The same simile of a peasant 
 might serve to remind us of the other side of 
 France from that so gracefully sketched in the 
 Montmartre quarter; and the same idle fancy 
 of a shifting of titles might easily imagine Mr. 
 Merrick writing a more realistic romance about 
 the later and darker days of the same great 
 capital, when it defiantly waited its deliverance 
 from the menace of the worst tyranny of the 
 world; a story that might well have been called 
 "While Paris Watched" or even "While Paris 
 Prayed." 
 
 For The House of Lynch also deals with 
 tyranny and deliverance from tyranny; and 
 though that tyranny sprang up in a more sordid 
 
INTRODUCTION vii 
 
 environment, it has spread itself with something 
 of the same cosmopolitan power. The House of 
 Lynch is the story of a spirited and self-respect- 
 ing artist, who refused to profit by the polluted 
 wealth of a base and blatant American million- 
 aire. He insists on marrying the daughter of 
 the millionaire as if she were the daughter of a 
 pauper; and the rest of the story records his 
 own struggle to avoid pauperism and maintain 
 principle. It is here that the graver and more 
 realistic method of Mr. Merrick is appropriately 
 developed. He does not fail to state the real 
 problems that often change and chill the fiery 
 simplicity of such a challenge; especially that 
 double altruism and division of duties which 
 appears in the presence of the child; and which 
 may have something to do with the tradition 
 which encouraged enthusiasts to be celibates. 
 He never glosses over the fact that such a 
 challenge is desperately hard to maintain; but 
 he never leaves on the reader's mind the least 
 doubt of his conviction that it is worth maintain- 
 ing. The perilous but quite positive poise or 
 balance is very dexterously suggested in the 
 temporary surrender of one of the partners in 
 the adventure, who repents of her virtue and 
 then repents of her evil repentance. There is 
 never any reason to lose sight of the original 
 
viii INTRODUCTION 
 
 root of the trouble, the modern tyranny of gold 
 and especially of ill-gotten gold. It would be 
 unreasonable to expect even an American 
 millionaire to have a thousand sons-in-law; but 
 he may well have a thousand dependents; and 
 the modern moral problem undoubtedly is that 
 of turning all those dependents into independ- 
 ents. For such fortunes are in reality exactly 
 what they are here in romance; shameful drugs 
 poisoning private honour, and permanent pesti- 
 lences threatening public health. Excuses are 
 made for them in politics and the press, the 
 same excuses which the stunted and half-witted 
 soul of the little plutocrat makes for them in 
 this story. But the very excuses offered are 
 enough to prove the whole situation to be 
 inexcusable. They have a flat and fourth-rate 
 character which has hardly ever before belonged 
 to the ruling minds of a human society. Ours 
 is perhaps the first generation of men which has 
 allowed itself to be ruled, not merely by men who 
 might h,ve undignified characters, but by men 
 who mut have undignified aims. The mere mil- 
 lionaire has already proved his inferior intelli- 
 gence by seeking what he pretends to have 
 proved his superior intelligence by finding. 
 Military courage or tribal loyalty may be rudi- 
 mentary and barbaric virtues, but they were 
 
INTRODUCTION ix 
 
 virtues; it has been left for our own time to 
 allow men to rise to national and international 
 power wholly and solely by their vices, and these 
 only the meaner vices. Hence it follows that a 
 plutocracy, unlike an aristocracy, has not any 
 sad or even sulky legend surrounding its decay 
 and death; for all men feel in their hearts that 
 its death would not be in the least sad. The fall 
 of the House of Lynch would be surrounded by 
 no such tragic portents as the fall of the House 
 of Usher; for we should all feel that it would 
 not be a tragic, but rather an agreeably comic 
 incident. It would only be a business going 
 "bust"; and as bad a business as there has ever 
 been in this world. 
 
 It may be counted very fitting, therefore, that 
 Mr. Leonard Merrick, who has himself always 
 maintained the difficult and disinterested fight 
 for the fine art of writing, among the vulgar and 
 vapid distractions of a commercial civilisation, 
 should have devoted one at least of his novels 
 to a serious sketch of a personal struggle against 
 the commercial power. Those who delight most 
 in the dance of fanciful events in his lighter 
 novels will least regret it, if the spirit of this one 
 is a shade more grave or even more grim. It 
 is always the charge against any entertaining 
 treatment of the ups and downs of the Micawber 
 
x INTRODUCTION 
 
 mode of existence, that it deals less with the 
 downs than with the ups. It is well to have a 
 story in which the downs are taken with dignity 
 and even defiance; and which can thus be said 
 to be realistic but not pessimistic. By com- 
 parison such passages may be sober or even 
 sombre, but they are in no sense sceptical; they 
 do not work to weaken the nerve of will which 
 they analyse. They will suggest another side 
 of a literary individuality to which we are 
 grateful for many other causes; and permit us 
 to pay some tribute of personal respect, where 
 we already owe so much of a more impersonal 
 pleasure. 
 
 G. K. CHESTERTON. 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THOUGH he had resolved to avoid her, he was 
 there after all they were sitting in the conserva- 
 tory. 
 
 "Well, what do you think of a New York din- 
 ner dance, Mr. Keith?" she said. She bore a 
 name that stank in the nostrils of the world ; her 
 father was the devastating Trust magnate, the 
 debaucher of politics, the infamous multi-million- 
 aire Jordan B. Lynch. 
 
 "Mrs. Waldehast is giving me a novel ex- 
 perience one more." 
 
 "Is it so different from what you call 'small- 
 and-earlies' in England?" 
 
 "I haven't been to many; I'm not a Society 
 personage, Miss Lynch." 
 
 "Artists don't think much of Society do they?" 
 
 "Some think of it more than they do of art. 
 I don't mean your artists here, of course I don't 
 
 i 
 
2 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 know enough about them I mean our swells at 
 home." 
 
 "I've never grasped the distinction between 
 your 'swells' and our 'smart set' I'm not sure 
 if I know what a swell is." 
 
 "Well, I'm probably the only person you 
 know who isn't one." 
 
 "Mr. Keith," exclaimed the girl, "why will 
 you always address me as if we were residing in 
 different planets?" 
 
 "Merely because we are. Mrs. Waldehast has 
 been wonderf ully nice to me ; but this is the only 
 smart house I have been to in New York, and I 
 should never have met you at any mutual friend's 
 in London." He hesitated, and then, as she gave 
 no sign of understanding him, went on, "It's 
 quite as caddish to harp on one's pecuniary draw- 
 backs as on one's pecuniary advantages, but you 
 may have gathered by this time that er that I 
 that " 
 
 "I have 'gathered,' " she smiled. 
 
 "Thank you," said Keith; "I might have 
 known your intelligence couldn't fail." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "That's all. Excepting that I'm afraid I 
 have not always addressed you quite as you say. 
 You see you come here a great deal, and so do I, 
 and I've almost forgotten things in moments." 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 3 
 
 "Well, forget them now, please. Do you know 
 I think you're horrid I ask you to talk, and you 
 just speak!" 
 
 "You're very kind. What do you ask me 
 to talk about?" 
 
 "Well, what did you talk about to your 
 friends?" 
 
 He laughed. "Oh, on the planet that I 
 mustn't remember, we talk about our difficulties, 
 when we aren't romancing about our prices. To 
 you, Miss Lynch, we should talk Greek. The 
 dominant adjective is 'hard up.' ' 
 
 "But you have some good times?" 
 
 "Oh yes. At our swaggerest functions those 
 given by fellows who have more than one room 
 men even bring their wives. And the wives 
 bring the babies, and put them to sleep on the 
 host's bed. They don't keep a nurse, and they 
 couldn't leave the babies behind alone. Some of 
 the Greek?" 
 
 She denied it radiantly: "No, that is rather 
 humorous." 
 
 "Y-e-s; I'm told the humour soon wears 
 thin." 
 
 "Well, I'm very glad that Dardy saw that 
 picture of yours when she was in London she's 
 enthusiastic about your portrait of her! So am 
 I ; it's splendid. You know, she wondered whether 
 
4 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 you'd come over when Mr. Waldehast wrote 
 she didn't know but what it was a lot to ask." 
 
 "It's a very usual thing to ask. And it isn't 
 always as complimentary as we want to think; 
 a woman often sees a half-length somewhere, 
 and sends the man a commission, because she 
 appreciated his model. Lots of our men come 
 over to paint people they have never seen. It's 
 rather a nervous journey." 
 
 "Why, yes, I suppose so the people may be 
 perfectly hideous. You must have been glad to 
 see Dardy?" 
 
 "I was. The best thing to be said of portrait 
 painting, as a rule, is that it's the only education 
 anybody is paid to take it teaches you to search 
 for individuality. A portrait isn't made by paint- 
 ing features you have to paint the character 
 behind them." 
 
 "Not everyone would say 'thank you' for 
 that," she remarked. 
 
 "Quite so and not everyone would be satisfied 
 with my portrait of him. But it doesn't matter, 
 because I don't want to paint portraits. It's 
 awful work ! A portrait painter, nine times out 
 of ten, has to choose between being an artist and 
 a courtier." 
 
 "I think you'd be very unwise to talk like that," 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 5 
 
 she said sharply; "it's bad business! I've told 
 you so before." 
 
 "Yes, I know." He flushed. "I suppose I'm 
 not a business man. It was stupid of me to say 
 it." 
 
 "No, you're not to think that ; you'll take that 
 back, please. It's how I want you to talk, to me 
 as you really feel! But I do caution you 
 against talking like it to other people. You 
 ought to make a lot of money in New York if 
 you're smart." 
 
 "Oh, I shouldn't have declined any commis- 
 sions just now in fact, I've stayed on here in 
 the hope of getting some." 
 
 "You did decline one," she said; "I asked you 
 to paint me, and you made excuses. Was that 
 the reason you thought I'd want you to be a 
 courtier?" 
 
 "I think I begged you to let me paint you, 
 didn't I? I was very eager to." 
 
 "You offered to make a sketch of me as a gift 
 that wasn't what I wanted. Anyhow, whether 
 you hate portraits or not, you ought to pretend 
 to gush about them. Dardy's picture should do 
 you good here if you take the right tone. You 
 know, Mr. Keith, I'm ages older than you." 
 
 "Yes. I'm thirty-three; I suppose you're 
 twenty." 
 
6 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 "It's sweet of you, but I'm more. And I 
 
 didn't mean in years, I meant in Well, 
 
 you know what I meant. Do you think I'm 
 horribly worldly, Mr. Keith?" 
 
 "Am I meant to tell you the truth?" 
 
 "Sure! I can suffer." 
 
 "Then you've amazed me, in moments, by 
 your unworldliness. That was what interested 
 me you were so unlike what I thought you 
 would be." 
 
 "What was that?" 
 
 "I thought what a fraud it was that you had 
 such a such a I'm bound to be blatant such 
 a beautiful face, for I didn't for an instant sup- 
 pose that you would have a beautiful mind." 
 
 "You are different from the others," she mur- 
 mured. "And don't you think it a fraud any 
 more?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Do go ahead!" 
 
 "I only think it a pity that your life doesn't 
 give a chance to your soul." 
 
 Her eyes were attentive, puzzled. "Religion?" 
 she hazarded. 
 
 "The religion of 'one who loves his fellowmen.' 
 I think that everybody ought to do all he can for 
 humanity. Of course the influence of most of 
 us doesn't show outside our homes, but wealth is 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 7 
 
 a wide power, and art is a wide power the 
 painter speaks in every language I don't think 
 one is entitled to fritter away either one's wealth 
 or one's art." His voice gained courage. "You 
 just lectured me for saying I didn't want to go 
 on with portraits; I don't want to go on with 
 them, because I hope and pray that it's in me to 
 paint something that will say more." 
 
 "You told me the other day you were 'de- 
 lighted' when you got Mr. Waldehast's letter?" 
 
 "I was delighted because the commission was 
 a valuable one. And I've done my best to 
 deserve it ; I put in as much work as Mrs. Walde- 
 hast would allow and a good deal more than 
 would have been discreet if she weren't a very 
 patient woman, or at least a very amiable one. 
 But a portrait's interest is generally limited to 
 the domestic circle and to other artists. Technique 
 alone never made a great work of art. The goal 
 of art is the soul of the world the highest art 
 illumines a more inspiring truth than the charac- 
 ter of Mr. So-and-so." 
 
 "What kind of pictures do you do?" 
 
 "I like the symbolic school best, but any sub- 
 ject that uplifts is a great one." 
 
 "Supposing they don't pay so well as Mr. So- 
 and-so? That's possible, isn't it?" 
 
 "It's much more than possible; but my chief 
 
8 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 aim isn't to make money. The point is, that 
 whatever advantages anyone may have ought to 
 be directed to the noblest ends. It doesn't 
 matter what one's medium is whether one is a 
 painter, or a priest, or a statesman, or a private 
 citizen one ought to put forth one's best for the 
 benefit of one's country. That's one's duty to 
 one's country. It's possible also that I may 
 prove to have nothing but the ideal, that the force 
 mayn't be there. I daresay I sounded vain 
 you wouldn't think me vain if you knew how 
 frightfully I distrust myself; I often think that 
 anybody on earth could paint as well as I do if he 
 took as much pains. I've no facility; other men 
 can knock things off in a day that take me a 
 week. I may fail and I shall be wretched, be- 
 cause I know that, with me, it's art first and 
 patriotism afterwards; but I shall have been a 
 good Englishman for all that. And I'd rather 
 fail by being true to my conscience than make a 
 popular success by being false. Am I a bore?" 
 
 "No, but I haven't climbed up there yet." 
 
 "I'm grateful you didn't pretend that you had. 
 It's where most people either lie or laugh." 
 
 She frowned. "Do you confide in most 
 people?" 
 
 "I never confided in any other woman in my 
 life and in very few men." 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 9 
 
 "Oh," her glance approved; "I'll get there in 
 time! You shall talk to me about it again." 
 
 "I'm afraid I shan't have the chance; I was 
 going to tell you I'm going back sooner than I 
 intended." 
 
 "Why?" It was uttered a second late, but the 
 tone was faultless. 
 
 "I think it would be as well." 
 
 "Surely New York is the place for you to be 
 in just now?" 
 
 "I think on the whole it would be as well to 
 go back," he said. 
 
 "I'm sorry you have to go." 
 
 "Thank you," said Keith in his throat. *Tm 
 very sorry, but I must. I shall often think of 
 my trip to America." 
 
 After the least pause, she said reproachfully, 
 "I hope the prospect is a very brilliant one? Of 
 course if your business is so urgent, you can't 
 be expected to neglect it for the sake of your 
 friends." 
 
 "I'm not leaving for business reasons," he 
 acknowledged. 
 
 "Is there someone in England who's so sweet 
 that you can't bear to be away from her?" 
 
 "I think that you know there isn't." 
 
 Her head was bent; she tapped time with her 
 fan to the waltz of "Sammy" in the ballroom. 
 
10 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 "If you aren't running after a girl, I guess you 
 must be running away from one? . . . Isn't 
 that weak?" 
 
 "No necessary. It's quite impossible that I 
 could ever marry that girl, and I've got to recon- 
 cile myself to the fact; I should never reconcile 
 myself to it while I went on seeing her. I can't 
 afford to feel as I've been feeling lately I've 
 got my work to think about. So the sooner I go 
 the better. I'm not sacrificing any chance by 
 going don't imagine that! no frenzied ad- 
 mirers of my work will miss me." 
 
 "Perhaps the girl will miss you, though," sug- 
 gested Miss Lynch. 
 
 "I haven't the conceit to think so; I don't 
 want to think so." 
 
 The pearls and lilies on her breast rose faster. 
 "If I were you I would !" 
 
 "It's out of the question for me to propose to 
 her, or to say that I care for her," he insisted 
 thickly. 
 
 "If she likes you, she won't think it out of the 
 question. . . . Aren't you going to tell me who 
 it is you're running away from?" 
 
 He didn't speak. His mouth was set hard. 
 
 "Is it me?" she whispered. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 She raised her head and looked at him. There 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 11 
 
 was nearly a line of "Sammy" before her voice 
 came: 
 
 "Mr. Keith, I have been called the 'proudest 
 girl in New York,' but I'm going to say an im- 
 modest thing right here." The lips trembled, and 
 he saw the throbbing of her throat. "I want you 
 to ask me to be your wife." 
 
 He grabbed both her hands and bowed his face 
 on them. "I can't!" he said. 
 
 "You've got to." She smiled victoriously. 
 "Betty Lynch doesn't let her millions spoil her 
 happiness." 
 
 "You don't understand. I can't, it's impos- 
 sible!" 
 
 "You're not married?" 
 
 "Married? No! But I couldn't give you a 
 home that you'd live in." 
 
 "And I don't let your foolishness spoil my 
 happiness either that's just why I said what I 
 did. We need not be anxious about the home." 
 
 "I couldn't stand that, I wouldn't do it!" 
 
 "I fear I have proposed to you," she mur- 
 mured, dimpling. "It would be too bad if I 
 were refused." 
 
 "Oh, my dear," said Keith desperately, "I 
 honour and adore you for what you said. I'd 
 give twenty years of my life to marry you. But 
 
12 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 I can't. To begin with, your father would, of 
 course, forbid the engagement." 
 
 "My father would never forbid me anything." 
 
 "Then he would give you a million or so, and 
 I should be asked to share it. And I couldn't." 
 
 She drew her hands free. "Do you mean," she 
 said coldly, "that you would rather give me up 
 than swallow your pride? / swallowed some for 
 you just now." 
 
 "It isn't a question of 'pride'; I'd put pride 
 in the gutter for you." 
 
 "What else is it? It isn't love. I don't 
 admire it. It's talking like a man in a book." 
 
 "Don't!" stammered Keith. "If you knew 
 what I'm feeling!" 
 
 "I think I do know you feel more esteem for 
 yourself than for me. No man who was really 
 fond of a girl would consent to lose her because 
 she had more money than Tie had. Not if she 
 were as rich as I, and he were as poor as a tramp ! 
 No, human nature doesn't do those things. If he 
 were without a meal, if he hadn't a cent in his 
 pocket or shoes to his feet, and she said what I 
 have said to yon, he would try his best to marry 
 her if he loved her. It would be his duty, and 
 her due." 
 
 "And so would I," gasped Keith, "if that were 
 all!" 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 13 
 
 "If it were 'all'?" Her startled eyes widened 
 at him pitiably, she turned dead-white. "Oh! 
 you mean you . . . don't approve of my father's 
 methods? You mean you would think it . . . 
 a disgrace ?" 
 
 "For Heaven's sake! I couldn't live on his 
 money, leave it at that! I can't talk about it. 
 But I love you, I love you, Betty." 
 
 "Love? You have thrown my father's reputa- 
 tion in my face, you have told me I am too dis- 
 honest for you." 
 
 "You? You? Oh, my darling the money, 
 not you !" 
 
 "It is the money that keeps me," she said pain- 
 fully. "Oh, I know what they say about the 
 Trust! I read. I hear of the people ruined, and 
 the broken homes, and and it doesn't make me 
 /eel good when I think about it. But I spend 
 such a lot. It is the money that buys my frocks, 
 and candy, and flowers; it is the money that 
 pays for the food I eat and the house I live in. 
 If you care for me as you wish me to believe, and 
 yet would rather lose me than let my father make 
 us happy, then you are telling me the money is 
 so shameful that I am a thief to take it." 
 
 "I tell you I adore you. I want you as I never 
 wanted anything else on earth. I don't re- 
 proach you, I don't, I don't! You were brought 
 
14 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 up to take it, and and, besides what else could 
 you have done? But I'm different I'm used to 
 roughing it, and I've got my work and if I were 
 weak enough to profit by a tyranny that has 
 horrified and revolted me ever since I understood 
 what it meant, I should be a cur, and our 'happi- 
 ness' would be no happiness, it would be hell." 
 
 Miss Lynch rose haughtily. "I had thought 
 that to say to any man what I have said must be 
 as great a humiliation as a girl could know; my 
 affront to myself is bearable compared with the 
 indignities I have suffered from you" 
 
 "Betty," he cried, "my whole income in a 
 lucky year hasn't been half of what you spent on 
 the candy and flowers; but I'm getting on, I'll do 
 better for you one day if you'll only be patient, 
 and I love you, I love you, you might wipe your 
 boots on my heart! You may think me a mad- 
 man for asking, but I'd worship you will you 
 marry me on what I've got?" 
 
 "Mr. Keith, you will please take me back to 
 the room," she said. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 IN his palace in Fifth Avenue, in his splendid 
 study lined with books, none of which he had 
 ever read, an old man sat awaiting Betty's return 
 from the dance. This was Jordan B. Lynch. He 
 had struggled as "Bill Lynch." Towards middle 
 age he had adopted the "Jordan" and curtailed 
 the "Bill." 
 
 He bent smoking moodily over the fire. It was 
 nearly midnight, and a desk in the room was 
 heaped with the letters that had come to his pri- 
 vate address during the day. There were des- 
 perate letters from men whom the Trust and its 
 radiating forces had broken; frantic entreaties 
 from destitute women and girls whose husbands, 
 or fathers, or brothers his operations had decoyed 
 to disgrace or death; indictments from philan- 
 thropists, warnings from clergymen, who threat- 
 ened his rapacity with Heaven's wrath. Lynch, 
 however, had not opened any of the letters, nor 
 would any of them be laid before him. 
 
 At the beginnning such things had disturbed 
 him. Later they had angered him. It was the 
 
 15 
 
16 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 law of nature for the weak to suffer ; why abuse 
 him for it ? he demanded. Finally, they had come 
 to minister to his pride. These daily budgets of 
 appeals for mercy, these admonitions overflowing 
 the waste-baskets were an emblem of his con- 
 quest ; they testified to the triumph of his career, 
 more than his magnificent library that had no 
 literary interest for him, and his famous pictures 
 that he never looked at. As a burden on indigent 
 parents in the Black Country, he had been a 
 wage-earner as a child; as an emigrant he had 
 been tortured by the sight of small chances that 
 he was too poor to seize. He had hoarded, 
 scraped, stinted his stomach for years and been 
 robbed of his first five hundred dollars. He had 
 rinsed glasses behind a bar on a Mississippi 
 steamer, had wrung a bare living from the earth 
 in California; had planned, climbed, fallen; set 
 his teeth and sweated ; climbed again ; prospected, 
 speculated, taken, with undaunted eyes, the risk 
 of being dashed to the bottom once more. And, 
 by the grace of grit, he was Jordan B. Lynch, 
 who had the world by its throat and the world 
 might squeak ! 
 
 Poverty prolonged grim, gaunt, grinding 
 poverty brutalises. Of all the cant acclaimed, 
 none is rottener than the pretence that poverty 
 ennobles character. 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 17 
 
 But to-night, as he bent smoking over the fire, 
 the weazen old man was not thinking of his 
 conquest, he was thinking of his children. 
 
 He had been fifty when he married, already a 
 menace to two continents; and when a son 
 came, the piratical financier who hewed his road 
 through.the misfortunes of a multitude had taken 
 an innocent delight in providing for his boy a 
 plenitude of the pleasures that he himself had 
 .missed. It was the father's caprice, not the 
 mother's, that converted a spacious nursery into a 
 range of mountains, on which bears, formidable 
 in real bearskin, roamed as large as life after one 
 turned .keys in them. Jordan B. Lynch's little 
 heir, with a pop-gun, was entertained for an hour 
 by trying to.hit them before their clockwork ran 
 down. Of course there were other nurseries. 
 One of them* contained a domesticated diving- 
 bell, descending to an aquarium, where, on a floor 
 of sea-shells and coral reefs, a mermaid sang, 
 with a gramophone inside her. 
 
 The child had been bored very young, but to 
 the man the view of such follies had yielded a 
 permanent satisfaction his own bitter childhood, 
 which he had always remembered with resent- 
 ment, ceased to chafe him like a bad, debt. The 
 advent of a daughter had been a disappointment, 
 for he had wanted another son; but after the 
 
18 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 death of his wife it was Betty who became the 
 dearer child. At first she charmed him more 
 because she resembled her mother; it gratified 
 him that his girl looked of gentle birth. Howard's 
 features were rough-cast, like his own. Later 
 she was his favourite because she showed him the 
 more affection. To his daughter his profusion 
 was ever more ebullient than to his son. 
 
 Yet he never said "no" to the boy. His 
 children must have everything the luxury, the 
 education, the fun that had been withheld from 
 him! Even because his own youth had been so 
 sordid, he found a covert fascination in their 
 extravagance. When he saw the bills, he smiled 
 wryly, recalling the ferocity of life to himself at 
 their age. The secretaries who corrected his 
 English had been much diverted to see the 
 financial leader engrossed by the lad's first dress 
 suit; Lynch was reflecting that the first dress 
 suit that he himself had put on had been ordered 
 when he was forty. 
 
 In his commercial aspect, corrupt and ruthless, 
 he was a tender father ; and a genius in finance, he 
 lacked foresight in his home. He had lived to 
 deplore his indulgence of Howard, with the 
 quintessence of remorse which many, who are 
 untroubled by a sin, may suffer for a stupidity. 
 The drollery of having a man of fashion for a son 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 19 
 
 had long ceased to tickle the old adventurer. 
 The denseness of Lynch junior to the financial 
 alphabet was a prank of nature's neither of 
 them was to be blamed for that, continuously 
 galling as the senior found it; the uppishness 
 might pass; the blank deficiency of purpose 
 might have permitted optimism in a parent. But 
 Lynch had docketed his son "worthless" when he 
 realised that the young man dissipated without 
 zest; a profligacy of vehemence would have left 
 hope of reform, a profligacy of lassitude left 
 none. 
 
 He had made no illusions for himself the 
 crowd who justly reviled him would have been 
 glad to read his thoughts his only son was a 
 failure! But there had remained Betty Betty, 
 whose Fifth Avenue tone was the only music he 
 appreciated his girl, who wore her frocks like a 
 real aristocrat! The surviving ambitions of his 
 fatherhood were absorbed by her. He had hoped 
 to see her bearing a great name, had dreamed of 
 it. He would give her to no illustrious pauper 
 who meant to scatter her millions and neglect 
 her; she should choose a noble who was rich al- 
 ready, one who would love her honestly, and 
 whom she'd love. He had imagined the ancestral 
 home, the crest on her carriage, a score of child- 
 ish details that were sweet to picture because they 
 
20 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 meant the exaltation of Betty. And now Betty 
 had as good as told him she was fond of some 
 artist ! 
 
 The street bell sounded, and Lynch opened 
 the study door, in the thought that the girl had 
 returned ; but it was Howard who had rung, hav- 
 ing forgotten his latchkey. 
 
 "Hello," he said languidly, seeing Lynch still 
 up, "you're late!" 
 
 "Hello," said Lynch, "you're early!" 
 
 It was the first time they had met that day. 
 
 "I know; why haven't you gone to bed?" 
 
 "I'm waiting for Betty." 
 
 "Where's she gone?" 
 
 "The Waldehasts'. She expected you to take 
 her." 
 
 "Me? I never said I'd go, did I?" He 
 lounged into the room, and lit a cigarette. 
 Though he took infinite pains in dressing himself, 
 he did no credit to his tailor; and the fashion 
 which ordained that his sandy hair should be 
 parted in the centre and plastered behind his 
 projecting ears was not becoming to him. 
 "What's the news?" 
 
 "W-e-11, there is the news of your 'pastoral 
 dinner' last night," snarled Lynch. 
 
 "Oh?" He put his hands in his trouser- 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 21 
 
 pockets and smiled impudently over his father's 
 head. 
 
 "I see that the restaurant was 'converted into 
 a meadow.' ' 
 
 "The likeness wasn't very faithful, but that 
 was the notion," drawled the young man. 
 
 " The Herald says 'a rivulet of champagne 
 sparkled between banks of orchids.' ' 
 
 "I hope The Day was just as picturesque. I 
 never read it, but I have a filial interest in its 
 circulation." 
 
 "You're very humorous," said Lynch, "very 
 Harvardy and brilliant! Is it indispensable at 
 dinner in your set for the ladies to 'pick diamonds 
 from a strawberry bed, as souvenirs'?" 
 
 "No. That was an innovation of my own." 
 
 "It was a great scheme." 
 
 "So / thought. They did scramble! I saw 
 all the frenzy of a bargain-sale without being 
 damaged by the crush." 
 
 "You might have done so if you had been 
 earning ten dollars a week behind a counter! ' 
 said his father acridly. 
 
 "Ah," Howard looked disconcerted; "your 
 repartee if I may mention it, sir is vulgar." 
 
 He mixed a generous highball and there was 
 a long silence. Lynch blinked at the fire, mourn- 
 ing mistakes. 
 
23 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 Warmed by the whisky, Howard grew faceti- 
 ous. "Brace up!" he murmured. "I haven't 
 broken you." 
 
 "You have not broken me financially." 
 
 "What? . . . Oh, parentally! Don't be senti- 
 mental, governor; it doesn't suit you. Take it 
 easy. If you knew how deadly dull life is, you 
 wouldn't call me down for trying to get a gleam 
 of fun. Anyhow, I see you gave half a million 
 to the Nixonville Institute this week; if you can 
 afford Institutes, you can spare me a dinner." 
 
 "My charities do good to me; they are 
 policy." 
 
 "Well, it does you good that I make a few 
 debts. If / spend it while you scoop it in, people 
 won't have so much to howl about. That's policy 
 too! You don't do my brains justice, you know. 
 My schemes are subtle; you want to think 'em 
 out. You ought to charge the dinner to your 
 charity account!" He giggled. "I take Roose- 
 velt's point of view; he doesn't approve of for- 
 tunes 'swollen beyond healthy limits.' Nor do 
 I I'm doing my best to cope with a national 
 evil." 
 
 He emptied his glass, and sauntered towards 
 the door with a nod. "Good-night." 
 
 "Good-night," grunted Lynch. He hesitated. 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 23 
 
 "Say, Howard! D'ye know anything of that 
 fellow Keith?" 
 
 "Keith?" 
 
 "That artist that Betty asked to the house? 
 He was unable to come, but I have heard her 
 speak about him." 
 
 "Oh! No; I've only seen him once. I don't 
 meet him he's nothing, he's an artist, he's stay- 
 ing in a boarding-house." 
 
 "Is that so?" 
 
 "He mentioned it himself at the Waldehasts' ; 
 didn't seem ashamed of it, either doesn't 'know/ 
 I suppose. Why?" 
 
 "Well, Betty is interested in him. I wondered 
 why she had asked him home, and I taxed her 
 with it." 
 
 "What? Do you mean she Oh, rats! 
 She may have flirted with him he's all right to 
 look at, except for his clothes; she wouldn't 
 understand about them." 
 
 "Well I guess you're right," said Lynch, 
 seeing that there was nothing to be learnt. 
 "Good-night." 
 
 It was a long while before Betty came in. As 
 she crossed the room she was almost as pale as 
 she had been when Keith's meaning broke upon 
 her; the look in her eyes puzzled the old man. 
 But his tone was innocent. 
 
24 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 / 
 
 "Well? Had a good time, poppet?" 
 
 "I'm very tired, father," she said in a strained 
 voice. "I'm going straight upstairs." 
 
 "I have been saving my last cigar to smoke 
 with you. Can't you spare me five minutes?" 
 
 She stood by the mantelpiece, a hand clenched 
 on the marble: "I have nothing to say to-night." 
 
 "Howard claims that he never promised to 
 take you he came in a while ago." 
 
 "Oh?" 
 
 "Anybody there? Your friend was there, I 
 guess?" 
 
 She nodded, with her mouth squeezed. 
 
 He got up, and touched her. 
 
 "He was there, and we talked, and I asked him 
 to marry me!" said the girl in an outburst. 
 And she slid crookedly into a chair and sobbed as 
 if she would break a blood-vessel, with her face 
 laid on the arm. 
 
 Lynch himself was scarcely less moved. Her 
 words dismissed his last hope. The highest ex- 
 pectation of his life had collapsed. 
 
 "W-e-11," he said, "I guess the Queen may do 
 these things. Don't break up like that, poppet; 
 you've nothing to blush for he couldn't ask you, 
 that's certain. I ain't going to raise Cain, you 
 know; if you want to marry him, you've just got 
 to marry him, there's no doubt about it. So dry 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 25 
 
 your eyes, and sit round, and I'll light that cigar 
 -see?" 
 
 "I am not going to marry him," she answered, 
 raising herself. 
 
 The old man stared at her speechlessly. 
 "What?" he said at last. 
 
 "He he made conditions." 
 
 "How's that? he 'made conditions'? You 
 offered to marry him, and he 'made conditions' ?" 
 
 "He said I must marry him on what he had 
 got; that he wouldn't take anything from you, 
 not a cent!" 
 
 "Is that all?" said Lynch, on a laugh. "Don't 
 you fret your eyes red about that!" 
 
 "It's real, he means it. He thinks our money's 
 tainted, he said it 'revolted' him, he said he would 
 rather lose me than touch it. Oh, I am ashamed ! 
 He degraded me ! I sat there feeling like a thief. 
 You don't know what it was ! I loved him, and 
 I couldn't look him in the face I couldn't defend 
 my own father. Oh, if I could have changed 
 places with any decent girl in New York, I might 
 have been so happy to-night!" 
 
 "Honey!" he pleaded, trembling over her. 
 "My honey, baby don't!" 
 
 "Is it so bad as they say? Tell me. I've been 
 a coward, I haven't talked, but I'm not blind 
 
36 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 you must know I know. I've got to understand 
 now, I've got to know just what I am!" 
 
 "You're one of the wealthiest girls in the 
 world," he faltered. "Is that good enough?" 
 
 "No! There's not a girl clerking in this city 
 who has been degraded as your daughter was to- 
 night. I've got to know just what I am, I've 
 got to know if he was justified." 
 
 "Betty," said Lynch, "it is mainly for you I 
 am working I am not piling up millions for 
 Howard to squander them when I go. You know 
 I have aimed at seeing you an English duchess 
 I have sometimes even er knuckled under, in 
 view of my ambitions for you. Don't ask me if 
 I have justified a man in insulting you." 
 
 "I don't want the millions if they bring me con- 
 tempt I'm a woman, and I loved him, and I 
 want the right to tell him that he lied!" 
 
 "Well, of course, of course he lied," said Lynch 
 soothingly. "He doesn't know ; you say he is an 
 artist what knowledge has he of finance? I 
 guess he has read a leader in The Flag and been 
 stuffed ; why doesn't he read The Day? See here, 
 there's not a business going, however small it may 
 be, that hasn't got its smaller enemies : the green- 
 horn that has opened a little dry-goods store in 
 a village is cursed by the pedlar, who don't need 
 to come around there any more; the pedlar says 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 27 
 
 the greenhorn is a 'monopolist, crushing competi- 
 tion.' Even the pedlar is attacked there is an- 
 other pedlar in the same district, who growls that 
 the first fellow's pack is too big. Through all 
 commercial and industrial enterprise, poppet, it 
 is the same thing; but the larger the pack, the 
 louder the growl." 
 
 "It sounds all right," she admitted weakly; 
 "but then, I want to believe it!" 
 
 "You've just got to believe it. Don't you go 
 looking for trouble. In this life it's every man 
 for himself, and the only man who pretends dif- 
 ferent is the one who's so weak-kneed that he 
 wants somebody else to shove him along. The 
 'wicked monopolist' don't monopolise selfishness. 
 See those letters on the desk? I haven't touched 
 them I don't hire secretaries in order to pass 
 my day reading what don't concern me but there 
 are two things I can tell you about them right 
 here. They're all begging letters from strang- 
 ers, who recognise that if I gave to all the beg- 
 gars who write me, I'd be selling bananas on the 
 street; and every stranger has marked his letter 
 'private,' to get an advantage over the other 
 stranger." 
 
 "Some of them may be deserving, for all that," 
 she said. 
 
 "Have I time to sort them? Can I neglect 
 
28 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 business while I convert myself into an investi- 
 gation bureau? I do all the good I can, without 
 being unjust to myself and my children. I made 
 a gift of half a million to the Nixonville Institute 
 only this week. My charities are very numerous, 
 and they are my joy as well as my duty. Had 
 your Mr. Keith any comments to make on my 
 charities?" 
 
 She stirred in the chair restlessly: "No." 
 
 "You're going to tell me just what he said; 
 I don't allow you to be insulted." 
 
 "He said well, it was I who said it first: I 
 saw what he meant when he said that he couldn't 
 marry me. But he acknowledged that was his 
 reason. He said he wouldn't talk about it. He 
 said he thought the Trust revolting, that if he 
 lived on money from from a source he con- 
 demned, he would be a 'cur.' He wanted me to 
 marry him on what he has." 
 
 "What's that?" 
 
 She gave a shrug. "Not much." 
 
 "Is that all. he said?" 
 
 "I think that's all." 
 
 "Well, forget about him! Have a good time. 
 I'll send you to Europe with Howard the Lon- 
 don season '11 be starting soon I'll come over 
 myself and fix up that presentation at Court for 
 you. There's nothing smashed. In a year you'll 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 29 
 
 wonder what you saw in him and why you were 
 so wretched." 
 
 "I have never imagined I cared seriously for 
 anyone before," she said. "It's very easy to be 
 cynical about other people's sorrows." 
 
 "As you go through life, poppet, you'll get 
 experience of a bitterer cynic than me, or any 
 other man. That's Time! W-e-11, you know I 
 wasn't set on your marrying him, and I am a 
 long way from it to-night, but if you've made 
 your mind up, go ahead! Don't worry yourself 
 over trifles ; it would not be a difficult transaction 
 to persuade a man to take an income for noth- 
 ing, plus the girl he loves." 
 
 "I wouldn't marry him now if he went on his 
 knees to me!" she said vehemently. "Besides, 
 he meant it, I tell you, he meant every word." 
 
 "I have met cranks already, but I have never 
 met one yet who wasn't amenable to reason 
 through his pocket." 
 
 "You don't know him!" There was a little 
 unconscious pride in her voice. 
 
 "No, but I know human nature. . . . See 
 here, when I made your mother's acquaintance, 
 she hadn't a notion who I was I had gone South 
 incog. The rumpus had begun even then; there 
 was some of the poppycock talked in those days 
 that there is now. Her father had very high prin- 
 
30 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 ciples, and nothing else he had been crippled 
 by the War ; the twenty thousand that he left to 
 you was all locked up in sugar at that time. He 
 spoke to me about the 'millionaire Lynch and 
 his methods' as he might have spoken about the 
 devil and all his works. But your mother was 
 very sweet; I liked her. So one day I said to 
 him, 'I'm Lynch and I want to marry your 
 daughter.' W-e-11, he adopted another view of 
 my methods ! ... If you ask me to do so, I will 
 smoke a cigar with Mr. Keith, and he will see 
 that his judgment was erroneous." 
 
 "If I 'ask you to do so'?" she said. "If you 
 were to send for him, I could never lift my head 
 again! I'll never speak another word to him as 
 long as I live it doesn't matter whether I forget 
 or not." She got up, and righted her hair with 
 a pretence of composure before a mirror. "Don't 
 you think we've stayed here late enough talking 
 about Mr. Keith?" 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 AFTER he left the dance, Richard Keith walked 
 miles blindly. A few hours earlier he had meant 
 to leave her, had been almost resigned to leaving 
 her, but in the interval the unforeseen had hap- 
 pened; she had said she cared for him, and he 
 had insulted her and she was much dearer to 
 him than she had been a few hours earlier. Be- 
 fore the dance he had thought that there could 
 be nothing more impossible than for him to ask 
 Miss Lynch to marry him. But he had asked 
 her ; and now, in spite of her repulse and his dis- 
 tress of mind in spite of common sense itself 
 the hope persisted. 
 
 He tried to view the marriage with her eyes, 
 and shrank aghast from the magnitude of her 
 sacrifice. Yet he prayed that she would make 
 it. He wanted it not only for his sake; because 
 he loved her he wanted it for hers. "I know 
 about the people ruined, and the broken homes I" 
 The words had been hideous on her lips. Yes, 
 she knew! Not the whole, not a tithe, she did 
 not see the suicides' blood or their daughters' 
 
 31 
 
32 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 helplessness the victims' cries did not pierce the 
 music in the mansions; from her carriage win- 
 dow she could not read the histories of Magda- 
 lens in the street. But vaguely she knew and 
 he hungered for her to be worthier, he yearned 
 for her to be as noble as she looked. 
 
 Alternately he wondered if he was insane to 
 dream of her consenting, and if he would be 
 justified in pleading to her. Could she be happy 
 as his wife? Her sacrifice would not abate the 
 suffering if her shame satisfied her, perhaps his 
 appeal would be grossly selfish? But he could 
 not think it would be selfish after what she had 
 owned. Though in her presence he felt a pauper, 
 he was indeed a rising man she would not starve 
 in his arms. The last two years had brought 
 recognition and a banking account. A balance 
 of a few hundred pounds and Mr. Waldehast's 
 cheque for fifteen hundred dollars represented a 
 stately monument on the road of his life. 
 
 His father had been a clergyman because the 
 Church had called to him, not because there was 
 a living in the family; indeed, expedience had 
 pointed in another direction. A painfully inade- 
 quate stipend had been eked out by a slender pri- 
 vate income. The widow had invested the prin- 
 cipal in a bubble company, and found herself 
 penniless while the boy was at a student hotel 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 33 
 
 in Montparnasse. He had been wrenched from 
 Montparnasse to enter an office in East India 
 Avenue, where her brother-in-law generously 
 paid him more than his services were worth, and 
 ungenerously reminded him of it. From the time 
 Keith was nineteen until his mother died he had 
 been breadwinner for them both, and simulated 
 cheerfulness. If the clerk wept for the art stu- 
 dent, he wore no mourning for him, nor did he 
 doubt that he would reach his mistress at the end. 
 The journey would be longer and rougher, that 
 was all ! The widow heard no murmurs. He was 
 an automaton by day and an enthusiast by night; 
 the cipher in the city office laboured like a hero in 
 the Clapham lodgings. And of course the lady 
 thought it a pity: "He would get a much better 
 position with his uncle if he only took more in- 
 terest in the business she was speaking for his 
 own good!" 
 
 But the inner voice was stronger. He had 
 drawn before he could spell, drawn on his slate, 
 on the walls of his nursery and been punished 
 for it drawn on the backs of his father's ser- 
 mons drawn, as many children lie, because it 
 was an imperative and unreasoning instinct. It 
 had been instinct that riveted him before the 
 Turner water-colours one day when "art" was 
 an unknown name, when he knew only that each 
 
34 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 separate piece of paper seemed to have caught 
 all the light and loveliness of the world. His 
 mother had run into the National Gallery with 
 him, during a visit to London, for shelter from 
 the rain, and the child understood that she 
 thought him a little noodle when she saw his 
 eyes. The clerk understood that she thought 
 him a fool when she saw him paint. To the aver- 
 age mind there is nothing sillier than genius be- 
 fore it is renowned. Afterwards, the renown is 
 admired. 
 
 At her death the office had been abandoned 
 that he might have more time to study. His 
 abject poverty had not been sufficiently pro- 
 longed to dull his ideals, but he had often been 
 dinnerless and even homeless, and for years the 
 income from his art had not equalled the salary 
 from his clerkship. To-day, if he had not been 
 in love with the daughter of a millionaire, he 
 would have been elated by his pecuniary posi- 
 tion; four to five hundred a year was conspicu- 
 ous, for his age. Besides, he hoped that his prices 
 would improve much more. Although the man 
 was too truly an artist to seek popular success 
 at the cost of doing inferior work, he was too 
 truly an artist to be indifferent to wealth. Wealth 
 is the master-key to beauty to travel in beauti- 
 ful places, to the collection of beautiful things. 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 35 
 
 Keith desired riches ardently, though he put his 
 conscience first. 
 
 No, wild it might be to aspire to marry her, 
 but not selfish, he thought, for she cared for him. 
 Since it was for him she cared, he naturally over- 
 estimated the importance of her caring. Lightly 
 as a man thinks of a girl's tenderness for any 
 other man, he is apt to think it an imperishable 
 influence in her life if her tenderness is for him- 
 self. Brown and Jones are always secretly 
 amused at Robinson's fear that Miss Green will 
 break her heart if he has to give her up: "Dear 
 old chap, Robinson, one of the best, but his idea 
 that he is an object of profound devotion is rather 
 comic." But Brown and Jones similarly exag- 
 gerate the feelings that they have inspired in the 
 Misses Pink and White. It is not vanity, it is 
 faith; the desirable lover accepts the girl's own 
 view of her emotions and the girl who doesn't 
 imagine her love to be lifelong is not worth mar- 
 rying. 
 
 It was daybreak when Richard Keith re-en- 
 tered the boarding-house to which he had fled 
 dismayed after a few weeks' experience of hotel 
 terms; and a letter from him was brought to 
 Betty when she woke a long, remorseful, futile 
 letter. It said everything but what she wanted 
 to hear that he withdrew his objection. 
 
36 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 To most people it is fatally easy to feel con- 
 vinced of what they wish to believe. Lynch's 
 daughter wished to believe that her wealth was 
 honest. Though Keith was by no means essential 
 to her happiness, she fancied that he was, and a 
 sentimental illusion may create quite as much fer- 
 ment as an heroic love; she was suffering vio- 
 lently, and it would have been horrible to her to 
 think that this hurricane of hopelessness sprang 
 from her attachment to an infamous fortune. It 
 was far nicer to believe that her father was tra- 
 duced by the world and that Keith was wan- 
 tonly unreasonable. 
 
 She pitied herself passionately. Never in her 
 frivolous life before had she wanted anything so 
 much, and never until now had anything been de- 
 nied to her. Because it was denied, she wanted 
 it more vehemently still. 
 
 She sent no answer to his letter. The impulse 
 to assuage her pain by mortifying him with a 
 few hurtful lines was very strong, but she felt 
 that silence became her better; and the thought 
 that, on the whole, it would mortify him even 
 more, enabled her to resist the temptation. 
 
 Nor did she go to the Waldehasts' during the 
 next few days, ardently as she desired to hear 
 about him; so Keith contrived to see her only 
 when she was driving when he could not be cer- 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 37 
 
 tain whether he was ignored, or only overlooked. 
 However, she wrote asking Mrs. Waldehast to 
 go to her. They had been friends since their 
 .schooldays, and Dardy Waldehast rustled in 
 upon her promptly. 
 
 "Now, I'm just dying with curiosity," she said, 
 "so you've got to tell me everything!" 
 
 "I don't know what you mean," said Betty. 
 
 "I've been trying to pump Keith, but I can't 
 get anything out of him." 
 
 "Mr. Keith?" Her tone implied that the ref- 
 erence to him was irrelevant. "Oh, he hasn't 
 sailed then? I thought he was leaving New 
 York?" 
 
 "He is very much in New York at present- 
 he has been living in my rocker, waiting for you 
 to come in." 
 
 "Did he say so?" 
 
 "Xot in words. What's the trouble with him, 
 Betty? I thought you meant it?" 
 
 "So I did mean it; you know very well I meant 
 it! Dardy, I'm miserable; he has treated me 
 abominably. He says he says he wouldn't take 
 a cent with me! What do you think of that?" 
 
 Dardy Waldehast's eyes widened. "You don't 
 mean to say that's what you're worrying about?" 
 she asked. "That sort of thing looks very pretty, 
 but it doesn't w r ash. He couldn't help it, even 
 
 361336 
 
38 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 (if he wanted to; you know that very well he 
 hasn't got anything." 
 
 "He insists that we should live on what he has 
 got, anyhow. If you think he's trying to fool 
 me, we can't talk. I have refused him; I am 
 never going to see him any more." 
 
 "But, you silly girl! he had to say it; he 
 couldn't have proposed to you if he hadn't said it. 
 I don't know where your wits have gone, really !" 
 
 "You don't understand. He won't take it be- 
 cause he's a crank ; he thinks the Trust is wicked. 
 Oh, he made his reasons perfectly plain my feel- 
 ings were of no consequence! Of course he 
 doesn't know anything about it he has probably 
 been misled by an Editorial in The Flag. He 
 says he wouldn't touch our money. He wants 
 me to do without it, and 'give my soul a chance' 
 he's strong on my soul, my food doesn't mat- 
 ter! He expects me to sacrifice all my comfort 
 to his crazy notions. I never heard anything so 
 selfish in my life." 
 
 "Well, I should say!" exclaimed Mrs. Walde- 
 hast. "Is that so? And I've been feeling real 
 bad for him, feeding him up with tea and candy. 
 . . . Does it weigh much, Bet?" 
 
 "Yes; I never liked a man that way before. 
 I'd have done anything for him and he treats 
 me like this ! I suppose it's life as soon as a girl 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 39 
 
 cares for a man really, he makes her suffer. 
 They're only fit to be flirted with and made game 
 of. I'd rather have married him than all the 
 dukes in the peerage and he doesn't mind if I 
 don't have enough to eat!" 
 "Have you told your father?" 
 "Yes. Of course he doesn't want me to marry 
 him, but he'd let me I might have had a heav^ 
 enly life if it hadn't been for Turn! My father 
 offered to talk to him, but I can't permit that 
 making myself so cheap. Besides, it wouldn't 
 do any good. He wants me to go to Europe with 
 Howard." 
 
 "Who your father does? Are you going?" 
 "What's the use of that? I'll never get over 
 it as long as I live in Europe or anywhere else. 
 It has broken my heart, I could cry my eyes out." 
 Her voice quivered. "What shall I do, Dardy? 
 I'm so fond of him. 'Tisn't as if he were silly 
 aD through; it's only just this one point he's 
 as sensible as anybody else about most things." 
 "I wish I hadn't had him at the house so much." 
 "Oh, it's my fault I saw where I was going; 
 I could have pulled up in time if I had wanted 
 to. Now it's too late! I'll never care for an- 
 other man as I cared for him. I feel feel about 
 him just the way we used to talk before we put 
 our hair up, Dardy." 
 
40 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 Mrs. Waldehast nodded. "Still, of course, 
 that wouldn't last, anyhow," she said. "Even if 
 you marry your romance, you lose it I mean, 
 your husband's quite different from the fellow 
 you used to gaze at the moon about." 
 
 "I expect he's more like it than the other fel- 
 lows, all the same." 
 
 "I don't know; Hal's all right, and I'm quite 
 happy with him, but I do sometimes wonder what 
 became of the Hal I got married to. / don't 
 meet him. I guess there's a bad fairy that flies 
 away with our bridegrooms while we're dream- 
 ing on the honeymoon and when we wake, we 
 just find husbands in their place." 
 
 "You can't console me that way." 
 
 "No. Well, you'd better talk him round. 
 He's very smitten you'll only have to cry." 
 
 "I don't see how I can speak to him again 
 we've quarrelled. Tell me what I can do; I don't 
 care how much humble pie I eat as long as he 
 doesn't know. Don't you ever remind me I said 
 that, or I'll hate you!" 
 
 "I'd go to Europe if I were you; I can men- 
 tion to him what boat you're crossing on. Go 
 by one of the slow boats you'll have time to 
 twist him round your finger before you land." 
 
 "I couldn't forgive him right away it'd look 
 like jumping at him." 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 41 
 
 "You can spare two days to be chilly in two 
 days last a long while at sea; they'll seem as 
 long as the winter to him. That'll leave you 
 four or five days to make him do what you want. 
 You'll have trained him up in the way he should 
 go long before you reach Liverpool." 
 
 "It's a heavenly notion," admitted Betty 
 cheerfully; "it's sweet of you I hadn't thought 
 of that. But I'm not set on going to Europe 
 with Howard ; I know what it means I'll never 
 see him there ; he'll leave me in the hotel, looking 
 out of the window. I wish you were going." 
 
 "Me? We don't go till the fall." 
 
 "It's much better now than in the fall. It's 
 perfectly ridiculous going over in the fall. 
 London's empty in the fall so's Paris. They're 
 a dream in the spring. Come with me! I'll 
 give you a dandy time. Come for a month and 
 ^uy frocks. You shall come back as soon as 
 I'm engaged." 
 
 "I should have to put off all my parties. 
 And I'd be so scared about the baby." 
 
 "What's the matter with her?" 
 
 "There's nothing the matter with her, but 
 there might be. With me at sea! I should go 
 crazy." 
 
 "You can have a marconigram every day 
 about the baby and a cable every day when 
 
42 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 we're there. Say you will! You've been such 
 a sweet I was just broken up when you came 
 in. Do be nice and see me through!" She 
 hung round her, smiling, flushed, coaxing like 
 a child. "You'd be such a help Howard 'd 
 be no good, he's got no tact. Think what it 
 means: it's just my life's happiness I'm begging 
 of you, Dardy! And we'll go by the C aroma 
 the staterooms have got the cunningest little 
 electric heaters for one's curling-irons." 
 
 Dardy Waldehast reflected. "Oh, all right 
 then," she said, "I'll go! Better let your father 
 think you're going away to get over it, hadn't 
 you? leave his mind easy." 
 
 And when Lynch joined them, the girl said, 
 "I've been telling Dardy she's got to take me to 
 Europe. We want to go by the Caronia the 
 Cunard's so safe." 
 
 "Well now, that's first-rate, Mrs. Walde- 
 hast!" said the financier, relieved; "that's 
 just what she wants to brace her up. I'll 'phone 
 for a couple of suites for the next sailing. I'm 
 real glad you're both going. Would you like to 
 take Howard along? he'll do to look after the 
 baggage." 
 
 "Our maids can look after the baggage," said 
 Betty. "A couple of suites and a stateroom for 
 the maids will be enough; we don't want How- 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 48 
 
 ard. Where shall we stay, Dardy? When you 
 cable for the rooms, poppa, you might explain 
 that 'Flowers' means flowers in the bedrooms; 
 I'll never forget the last time we arrived there 
 wasn't a bouquet in a bedroom, it was fright- 
 ful!" 
 
 "I'll fix it," said Lynch, thankful for her 
 brighter tone. He had just been drafting a pros- 
 pectus that would gull a multitude, but the young 
 women found him gullible. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 AFTER Mrs. Waldehast had told him carelessly 
 that she was to sail with Betty Lynch on the 
 Caronia, Keith hurried down to State Street 
 and booked his passage by the boat, rejoicing 
 at his "discovery"; and at the Metropolitan, 
 later in the evening, Dardy Waldehast threw 
 to Betty, in the opposite box, two little emphatic 
 nods, which said, "I've done it!" 
 
 His elation was succeeded by the fear that 
 the girl might not go after all. There were ten 
 days of suspense. The prospect of seeing her 
 constantly during the passage seemed to him too 
 extraordinary to be fulfilled. Something must 
 prevent this maritime heaven! When he drove 
 to the pier at last he was more despondent than 
 excited. A bad night hinted that a caprice had 
 balked him at the final moment, that he was 
 about to put the Atlantic between them. 
 
 The pier was chaos, apparently heaped with 
 the luggage of the world. Aboard ship all the 
 women were speaking at once, and every woman 
 was saying "steward" or "grip." Below, in the 
 
 44 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 45 
 
 great dining- saloon, a vaudeville artist queened 
 it at one of the small tables, taking leave of some 
 admirers; champagne popped to her triumphs 
 in London; the table was gorgeous with roses 
 and ribbons, the valedictory expressions of re- 
 gard. He lost himself in a maze of passage ways, 
 and captured his stateroom only after it had 
 eluded him three times. There are staterooms 
 which seem never to be twice in the same place. 
 When he returned, order was prevailing. The 
 deck grew clearer, the last adieux were gabbled. 
 Neither Miss Lynch nor Mrs. Waldehast was to 
 be seen. The endless crowd streamed off, in- 
 stead of on, now momentarily it looked as if 
 everybody had been a visitor and nobody would 
 be left to sail. Still they were unseen! He gazed 
 forlornly round. And the hotel moved away. 
 
 He saw them, with a heart thump, about an 
 hour later, after the chairs were set out. He 
 knew that Mrs. Waldehast whispered, "Here's 
 Keith," as he approached, for Betty gave a faint 
 start of astonishment. But she did not turn 
 her head. The other woman exclaimed, "Why, 
 Mr. Keith!" with smiling surprise, and there 
 was a few moments' awkward conversation. His 
 embarrassment at intruding upon Betty, who was 
 monosyllabic and obviously chagrined to find 
 him there, made him very constrained. He 
 
46 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 envied the composure with which she contrived 
 to mask her amazement at meeting him, after the 
 first instant of dismay. 
 
 For the rest of the day they kept to their 
 suites. The moonlit deck ungraced was pathetic. 
 
 In the morning they were not at breakfast. 
 It was eleven o'clock before a stir with their 
 cushions and rugs heralded their appearance. 
 Mrs. Waldehast's comment on the weather in 
 passing him was formal evidently she had been 
 asked to keep him at a distance. As to that, 
 there was a smoking-room! 
 
 But, after all, it wasn't to admire the smok- 
 ing-room that he had chosen the Caroma! He 
 went to luncheon resolved to find his opportunity 
 before the moon could mock him again. 
 
 The afternoon was blank until the tea-cups 
 circulated. Then the two ladies settled them- 
 selves on the promenade deck, but were in- 
 separable until a penetrating rain sent everyone 
 scurrying into the lounge. "I* think this is 
 where I leave you?" said the confidant. "Well, 
 don't be gone more than a minute or two!" mur- 
 mured Betty. Mrs. Waldehast got up and 
 shivered she went below for a wrap. The girl 
 remained on the divan, absorbed by a magazine. 
 He reached her in three strides. 
 
 "Aren't you going to let me talk to you?" 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 47 
 
 "I don't know why you should want to talk 
 to me," she said, at once startled, proud, and 
 reproachful. 
 
 "It's all I'm here for I heard you were 
 going." 
 
 "I think it was a great pity you heard. It 
 was very foolish of Dardy to speak about it." 
 
 "I'm very grateful that she did! . . . You got 
 my letter?" 
 
 She bent her head silently. 
 
 "I waited in the whole day for your answer. 
 It was a very long day." 
 
 "What answer did you expect?" The tone 
 was a rebuke. 
 
 "I hoped you'd say that you forgave me for 
 hurting you. Will you? If you knew how bad 
 I've been feeling " 
 
 "I'd rather not hear about it, please!" she said. 
 "I wish to forget." 
 
 "Me?" 
 
 After a second's pause she faltered, "Yes; 
 what else can I do now?" 
 
 "You can say you'll marry me I love you, 
 I love you so much! Betty, I've felt a brute and 
 a cad for saying what I did to you I've seen 
 that look in your eyes ever since. Won't you for- 
 give me?" 
 
 "You told me we couldn't be happy together. 
 
48 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 What's the good of asking me to forgive 
 you?" 
 
 "I told you we couldn't be happy on your 
 money. I'm not asking you to marry me on that. 
 If you care for me, can't you can't you give 
 it up?" 
 
 "Oh!" She made a movement of impatience. 
 "You ask me to marry you one minute, and in- 
 sult me the next. I think you're crazy!" 
 
 "You know I don't mean to insult you; it's 
 much worse for me to have to speak about your 
 money than it is for you to hear. But you've 
 got to understand me. We needn't discuss my 
 reasons any more; I'd much rather not. It 
 amounts to this: if you marry me, you'll live on 
 what I can make for you! It's what I implore 
 you to do. If you'll only ' 
 
 Dardy Waldehast came back with a wrap on. 
 "Hasn't it turned cold?" she said to Keith, as 
 casually as if she had just been chatting with him. 
 "Feel my hands!" 
 
 Betty was sorry that she had commanded such 
 a quick return. But the ice was broken now, and, 
 though the brief conversation was different from 
 the one she had forecast, she felt in better spirits 
 for it. 
 
 So did Keith. They talked again in the lounge 
 after dinner. Somebody sang Tosti. And after 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 49 
 
 Tosti, the deck was dry; but not dry enough for 
 Mrs. Waldehast. He and Betty sauntered 
 alone. 
 
 She looked at the sky, and paid a compliment 
 to the moon. 
 
 "It's much better than it was last night," he 
 said appreciatively. 
 
 "I didn't notice it last night; we didn't come 
 up." 
 
 "No and it gibed! I had been on the 
 Caronia for aeons without getting a word with 
 you. The moon quoted Browning." 
 
 "Carnegie must have found a new field for his 
 libraries. What did it say?" 
 
 ' 'Never the time, and the place, and the loved 
 one all together.' Oh, I was wretched last night! 
 The deck was calling for you. . . . Do you know 
 do you know, I'm almost inclined to wish that 
 I hadn't any principles! It would make things 
 so much easier. I never thought I could be in a 
 situation where I shouldn't know the right course 
 
 from the wrong, but but Is a man a selfish 
 
 beast to try to make a girl renounce a fortune for 
 him, or would he be only half a lover to let her 
 go when they care for each other? ... If I 
 thought you'd regret yielding, I'd say good-bye 
 and try to forget you, as I meant to do; I would, 
 on my honour!" 
 
50 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 "Don't you think you may be unjust?" she 
 asked haltingly. "I told my father what you 
 said ; he said you didn't understand. He said that 
 every business has its enemies. Even if it is a 
 small business, there is always somebody smaller 
 who complains of it and says that it's wicked 
 and tyrannical. My father has always been very 
 good to me. If you knew how kind he has been 
 to me, you wouldn't think he was a bad man. 
 
 When you say what you do, I Well, I don't 
 
 like to hear you speak ill of him!" 
 
 "I don't want to speak ill of him, Betty. It's 
 because 1 don't want to hurt you that I can't 
 justify myself to you. My tongue's tied; I can 
 only say that I condemn and it sounds like a 
 prig. But I'm not the only person who con- 
 demns; you know that, dear, as well as I do." 
 
 "All the world may make mistakes," she 
 pleaded. "You admitted just now that you 
 weren't sure if you were right." 
 
 "I'm not sure if I'm right in asking you to 
 give your wealth up, but I'm quite sure I'm right 
 in refusing to share it. I'll never consent to do 
 that. . . . The truth is, I haven't the courage of 
 my own convictions. I'd rejoice to see you give 
 it up I'd think you a nobler woman. It makes 
 me sick when I remember that your pleasures are 
 paid for with other people's ruin but I take 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 51 
 
 fright at the responsibility of asking you to give 
 it up for me. I ask you and wonder if it's 
 monstrous of me directly afterwards. My view 
 is right, I know it's right; but then I shouldn't 
 have expressed it to you if I didn't want you to 
 marry me and perhaps that makes me wrong !" 
 
 They strolled the length of the deck before she 
 spoke. 
 
 "I think there'd be nothing gained if we were 
 to talk for ever!" she said harshly. "It's just 
 as impossible for you to understand my father's 
 business as it would be for my father to under- 
 stand your art. We won't talk about it any 
 more, please." 
 
 "You're angry with me again?" 
 
 She shrugged a shoulder: "Oh, you have a 
 right to your opinion, I suppose; I'm not angry 
 with you." 
 
 "That's as cruel a thing as you could say." 
 
 "How can I help hating myself?" she ex- 
 claimed, with a break in her voice. "How do you 
 suppose I must feel? Do you suppose these 
 things are pleasant to me to hear? Do you sup- 
 pose I forget that I needn't have heard them if 
 I hadn't said what I did to you? You were go- 
 ing away you'd never have known, I'd have had 
 nothing to be ashamed of!" 
 
 "Are you sure of that?" 
 
52 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 "Do you remember something you said to me 
 that night? You said, 'I know about the people 
 ruined, and the broken homes, and it doesn't make 
 me feel good when I think of it.' Are you sure 
 you'll always be able to put the thought aside? 
 Are you sure the time can't come when the 
 millions won't be enough when the cries of the 
 people will keep you awake? I don't want to 
 invent a conscience for you, but are you positive 
 that you'll never be ashamed?" 
 
 She paused by the taffrail, with averted face. 
 The subtlety of her sex had gone, and left her 
 helpless. She was no strategist, trying to bend 
 his will now; she was a girl in love with swim- 
 ming eyes, and a lump in her throat, and a nose 
 turning pink. 
 
 "I know just how you think about me," she 
 gulped. "You think I'm fonder of my fortune 
 than of you ! It's not true." 
 
 "Betty!" 
 
 "I'm not, I'm not ! And I know you're right 
 
 yes, I do know it, right down deep but I 
 
 don't want to hear about it. He's my father, you 
 
 see. Take me ! I don't want the money, I swear 
 
 I don't I only want to be happy!" 
 
 "O my sweet!" he stammered. "If there were 
 nobody here! Betty, I'm holding you, I'm 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 58 
 
 thanking God for you, I'm kissing your feet, and 
 your tears, and your lips my heart, my love!" 
 
 "I know I'm not as brave as I ought to be," 
 she quavered, "but I will try! I want to be just 
 what you'd like. You won't ever be sorry for 
 marrying me, will you I mean if I make a muss 
 of things? It won't be that I'm not happy and 
 proud to be your wife, only that I don't know 
 how to set to work. I'll be content in ever so 
 poky a cottage, and and I can't cook the din- 
 ner, I don't know how, but I'll learn all about 
 art, so that you shan't feel you've married a fool. 
 And you shan't paint portraits !" 
 
 Their hands clung together on the rail. 
 
 "I'd paint portraits all my life for you," said 
 the man reverentl}-; "I'd throw art overboard for 
 you! I thought I loved you before, but I didn't 
 know what love was I didn't know what a 
 woman could be. . . . And you won't have to 
 cook the dinner, my queen, or live in a cottage; 
 it won't be so bad as all that. I make 
 
 "Sh!" she whispered. "Never mind what you 
 make I am so tired of you and me talking 
 money." 
 
 The first officer hurried by them, looking the 
 other way. 
 
 "I've made a perfect fright of myself," she 
 smiled, dabbing her fingers at her eyes, "and I 
 
54 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 haven't got a handkerchief." She borrowed 
 Keith's: "You're beginning to provide for me 
 already!" 
 
 "Betty, when will you marry me-? Will you 
 marry me as soon as we land?" 
 
 "Oh!" she laughed, in the glory of surrender. 
 "Are you so afraid I'll change my mind?" 
 
 "No. But I want to prove to you how much 
 I mean it. . . . Betty!" 
 
 "Yes, sir?" 
 
 "You've never called me 'Dick.' ' 
 
 "I think 'Richard' suits you much better; you 
 aren't 'Dick' a bit. Do they call you 'Dick'?" 
 
 "No very few people do." 
 
 "Then I shall Dick." 
 
 "Betty!" 
 
 "You'll know that name soon!" 
 
 "Where shall we live?" 
 
 "Dear," she pouted, "let's live in a moonbeam 
 to-night. Don't let's be practical yet I don't 
 want to be practical any more. It doesn't matter 
 where we live if I make you happy." 
 
 At the piano somebody sang again. The lyric 
 did not reach her, but the melody harmonised 
 with the music of her mood. Presently the ship's 
 bells jarred, startling them to the remembrance 
 of time. "We must go down to Dardy," she 
 murmured. 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 56 
 
 "Will you say good-night to me first?" 
 Now, where they leant there was no one in 
 
 view she saw nothing but him, and the sea, and 
 
 the stars. He drew nearer still. Her eyes 
 
 closed. 
 
 Oh, it was worth it, worth it a thousandfold! 
 
 She was sure she would think so as long as she 
 
 lived. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 DARDY WALDEHAST was less optimistic. She 
 divined the engagement directly they returned to 
 the lounge, but she attributed capitulation to the 
 wrong side. It was not till she was in Betty's 
 stateroom with her that she was staggered by 
 the facts. 
 
 "And what do you imagine your father's go- 
 ing to say?" she demanded. "You don't imagine 
 for a moment he'll allow it, do you?" 
 
 "I mean to write to him at once; I'll mail the 
 letter from Queenstown. It's my own life if 
 I'm satisfied, nobody else has any reason to com- 
 plain. . . . Oh, be nice, Dardy ! I feel so happy 
 and so good, and I don't want to think about any- 
 thing horrid." 
 
 They sat on the couch, with their arms around 
 each other. 
 
 "I'd never have believed it of you! . . . When 
 is it supposed to be? Is he coming back to New 
 York with us?" 
 
 "What for? I won't go back to New York. 
 We'll live in London we shall be married in 
 London." 
 
 56 * 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 57 
 
 "Will your father come over?" 
 
 Betty's eyes grew solemn. "I don't know," 
 she said pensively, "I've been wondering. I've 
 got to tell him, you see, that he mustn't settle 
 anything on me that I've promised not to take 
 it. He won't be anxious to meet Dick after 
 that ! . . . And even if he did care to come, it'd 
 be rather rather painful for us all, wouldn't it? 
 I don't want" she plucked at her friend's lace 
 "I don't want to have a father there that Dick 
 feels such things about. How can I? it'll be 
 Dick's wedding too. I I think the church 
 should be quite sweet for us both when he marries 
 me." 
 
 The other woman kissed her, and they sat 
 silent. 
 
 "My father's in the Trust as well," she said at 
 last hesitatingly. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "I've never worried." 
 
 "You did one day, Dardy. Do you remem- 
 ber?" 
 
 "We were kids then and thought we were 
 heroines. What's the good of making our lives 
 a misery? We can't alter it. Besides, I don't 
 believe it's so bad as they say; it's all nonsense. 
 Nobody has a word to say against Hal and Hal 
 
58 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 never fussed about my money. . . . It's an 
 awful pity there's not one man in a million 
 who would be such a fool. I don't know why it 
 should happen to you to meet him! . . . Well, 
 if your father doesn't come over for it, who'll be 
 there?" 
 
 "Why, you!" 
 
 "I can't do it, dear you mustn't let me in 
 for that ! It isn't what I was brought for. He'd 
 be mad with me! And anyhow, I can't stay 
 more than a month you don't mean to have it 
 within a month?" 
 
 "I I don't know," said Betty; "yes, I 
 expect we will. I won't want to buy a trousseau. 
 ... I shall write my father all you say; he can't 
 say it's your fault." 
 
 "I'd never have believed it of you!" said the 
 other again. "One thing Well!" 
 
 "What's that?" 
 
 "Well, of course, it needn't last you can al- 
 ways have it your own way afterwards. 
 But " 
 
 The girl shook her head, startled. "I wouldn't 
 do that!" she breathed. "That's over I'm 
 being real with him." Her gaze remained wide 
 and introspective. "I wish you hadn't said that." 
 
 "I'm sorry." 
 
 "You don't know how I wish we hadn't 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 59 
 
 schemed that day! I hate myself for having 
 shammed to him; it'd be lovely if I hadn't 
 meant him to come, and he had just surprised me 
 here as he thinks he has. I'd like it all to have 
 been quite true." 
 
 Mrs. Waldehast grimaced. "You'll make me 
 envious in a minute / shall never have those 
 cranky and beautiful emotions any more! . . . 
 You'd better turn in now, and dream of him. 
 Pull the bedclothes up high, or your wings'll 
 take cold! I'm not going to talk sense to you 
 again to-night." 
 
 But she talked to Keith on the morrow. 
 
 "You know, Mr. Keith," she said, "I feel a 
 great responsibility. Betty's father has trusted 
 her to me, and I can't stand by and see her spoil 
 her life. You must know as well as I do that this 
 won't work we don't live in a romance." 
 
 The throbbing of the steamer was very loud in 
 his ears. "You think I am behaving badly to 
 her?" he asked, when he found his voice. 
 
 "I think you are behaving badly to yourself. 
 Mr. Lynch is devoted to her; he would consent 
 to anything to make her happy. If you refuse 
 to let him help you, you are wilfully turning your 
 back on a fortune." 
 
 "She is prepared to live on less than I can 
 offer her," he pleaded. 
 
60 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 * 'Prepared' 1 Have you any notion of what 
 she is used to? She has had her own account 
 since she was eighteen, and the bank has been 
 told to honour her cheques to any extent. My 
 husband is a rich man, but Betty has spent as 
 much in a year on nothing particular as I have 
 spent on my house; everything solid has been 
 paid for by her father." 
 
 ''For Heaven's sake, don't imagine that I 
 undervalue what she's doing," he exclaimed. 
 "It's the grandest thing that a girl ever did for 
 a man. I know that nothing, nothing on my 
 
 side can be enough to I'll worship her for it. 
 
 She's brave indeed!" 
 
 "She's in love. I don't quarrel with her for 
 that I'm not much older than she is; but I'm 
 a married woman, and on this point I'm older 
 than the two of you. While a girl's in love, 
 everything the man says is a law of the Medes 
 and Persians to her, she sees with his eyes; but 
 afterwards, if she has any more backbone than 
 porridge-and-cream, she begins to sit up and 
 survey for herself again. I can't argue about Mr. 
 Lynch 's commercial reputation, I don't pretend 
 to understand finance" Keith did not miss the 
 reflection "but I do understand Betty, and I 
 tell you that if you think her conversion to your 
 view is anything but the fizz of the moment, you 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 61 
 
 are making a big mistake. You will spare 
 yourself and her a great deal of unnecessary pain 
 by listening to reason at the start." 
 
 "If you mean 'by taking help from her 
 father,' " he stammered, "I can't do it at the 
 start, or at any other time. Betty thoroughly 
 understands that. I'm sorry if I sound hard." 
 
 He sounded, on the contrary, very weak. It 
 is one thing to have intense convictions, and an- 
 other to uphold them to strangers. Keith would 
 never have swayed mobs, he was too sensitive to 
 a jeer. He felt like a boy beside her, nervous, 
 shamefaced. 
 
 "Well!" her gesture was resigned, "you are 
 entitled to your principles, of course; but I tell 
 you frankly I think that, having the objection 
 that you have, you did very wrong in the first 
 instance to propose to her." 
 
 In the first instance, however, she had pro- 
 posed to him. 
 
 "Do you mean that I ought to give her up?" 
 he said unsteadily. "I'm so fond of her, Mrs. 
 Waldehast you're a woman, you ought to know 
 how much I mean it! But if she wished she 
 hadn't married me it'd be terrible; I'd rather it 
 came to nothing than make her wretched for life. 
 Do you mean that I ought to give her up?" 
 
 Dardy Waldehast flinched. A vision of Betty 
 
62 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 assailed her Betty at white heat, Betty de- 
 manding wrathfully "how she dared?" After 
 all, was the responsibility so great as she as- 
 serted? There would be plenty of time for 
 Lynch to take decisive measures if he chose ! 
 
 "I don't mean anything of the sort," she said ; 
 "I mean that you should agree to her father mak- 
 ing a settlement. All she'll bring you, if you 
 don't, is about a hundred pounds a year her 
 grandfather left her twenty thousand dollars 
 when she was a child. Unless you object to that 
 too?" 
 
 "It's the first I've heard of it," he said. "But 
 why should I object? My objection is not to 
 marrying a girl with money, but to living on 
 atrocious money. Surely the difference is plain 
 enough?" 
 
 "Atrocious" rent veils. But her own father 
 was less prominent, Keith knew nothing of him 
 it was needless to challenge the word. Her 
 thoughts darted to the scene of which Betty had 
 reminded her for a primitive moment she was a 
 girl again, revolted, confiding to her friend that 
 she would "run away and go into a store." 
 Yes, she had fancied she was a heroine then! 
 She regained her composure before the man 
 could notice there was anything amiss. When 
 he turned to her she was back in her world. 
 
63 
 
 "Well, you mustn't be vexed with me for my 
 opinion," she said urbanely; "I wanted a chat 
 with you because I've a great affection for her, 
 but that doesn't mean that I don't like you." 
 
 "I shall always be deeply grateful to you, Mrs. 
 Waldehast," he sighed; "I only wish you didn't 
 think me so inhuman." 
 
 His misgivings had rushed back to him, in- 
 tensified. He was "entitled to his principles," 
 but was he entitled to force them upon Betty? 
 Her consent was the "fizz of the moment" ? Then 
 she would live to bewail it! For there could be 
 no going back afterwards; if she accepted the 
 condition, she accepted it for good and all. Was 
 he being fair to her in taking her at her word? 
 There must be a serious talk between them to- 
 day! 
 
 But when he was alone with her during the 
 afternoon, he wondered how to broach the sub- 
 ject. His relief was as great as his surprise when 
 she said archly, "So you've been having a bad 
 time? Well, you aren't going to lose me if you 
 don't want to don't worry!" 
 
 "She told you?" he exclaimed. "You know?" 
 
 Her laughter brimmed over; the ingenuous- 
 ness of Man was comic. "No, she didn't tell me; 
 there are things that don't want telling, they 
 shout for themselves. I saw you when you were 
 
64 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 drooping round with her. What is it you're try- 
 ing to say to me? Come to momma and 'fess!" 
 
 "Betty," he said, "I can't joke about it, I'm 
 very much in earnest." 
 
 She put her hands behind her back, and her 
 head to one side. "Are you going to bid me an 
 eternal farewell?" she rippled. "It isn't 'the 
 time, and the place, and the loved one all to- 
 gether' now, because I don't feel like being 
 pathetic a bit." 
 
 "Will you listen to me? I want you to be 
 serious. Will you, sweetest?" 
 
 Her sunshine faded. She sat down slowly. 
 "Go on, then," she said, raising big eyes. 
 
 "She's very fond of you. So am I, but per- 
 haps my kind of love is bound to be more selfish 
 than hers. / want you she only wants to see you 
 happy; her judgment here is better than mine. 
 . . . It's because she's very fond of you that 
 she spoke. She doesn't think that I've the right 
 to let you do what you promised ; she's sure you'd 
 be sorry for it afterwards. I know you don't 
 think so how, but it's quite true that the time 
 may come when you'll feel that you acted like a 
 madwoman when you'd give everything on 
 earth to be able to undo the mistake. Remember 
 that you will never be able to undo it! You 
 aren't making the sacrifice for six months, Betty, 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 65 
 
 or for a year, but for always. And by-and-by, 
 the gilt will be off the gingerbread, and the 
 gingerbread may taste awfully stale, my love. 
 That's all I can say, but I want you to think it 
 over well, and to have a long talk with her." 
 
 "Do you suppose I haven't heard what she's 
 got to say already?" she replied proudly. "What 
 can she tell you about my feelings ? She can only 
 answer for her own. Is it Dardy Waldehast you 
 want to marry, or me?" Her chin went up. "I 
 daresay all you have said is very honourable and 
 high-minded and well meant, but I find it no 
 compliment. I promised to be your wife; I am 
 not a little child, to have a gift handed back to 
 her and be told that she doesn't know what she's 
 doing." 
 "Betty!" 
 
 "I am an American girl, and " 
 
 "You're the dearest girl in the world, but " 
 
 "And I know my own mind. You offend me 
 when you speak to me as if you thought I was 
 a fool. If it's only my face you're in love with, 
 I can't be very much to you; New York is full 
 of men who're in love with me like that. I 
 imagined your love was for myself." 
 
 "I love every mood of you! I love you when 
 you're cross with me, and I love you when you 
 cry and I love you when you laugh and your 
 
* 
 
 66 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 eyes turn blue and you show that dimple in your 
 cheek!" 
 
 Betty's chin was still disdainful. But the 
 corner of her lips seemed to promise the dimple's 
 dawn. 
 
 "Of course," she began, in her stateliest tones, 
 "if you are alarmed at the prospect His 
 
 interruption couldn't be overlooked. "You don't 
 deserve it," she demurred, melting. "Well then! 
 Don't be unkind to me any more. ... I had 
 something quite important to say to you when 
 you started that foolishness, you silly boy!" 
 
 "God bless you!" exclaimed Keith. "I'll never 
 start it again; it's over! What is it you were 
 going to say?" 
 
 She stroked his hair the wrong way. "I have 
 been thinking," she said, "that I can't be mean 
 and keep our news secret; I must write from 
 Queenstown or, anyhow, as soon as we're in 
 London." 
 
 He nodded. "Of course." 
 
 "It'd be rather horrid of me to leave people 
 in the dark about it. Besides, Dardy's sure to 
 write to him!" 
 
 "You mean your father will try to prevent 
 it?" 
 
 "No, I don't; I am my own mistress. But" 
 she hesitated "it's just possible he may decide 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 67 
 
 to come over for it, though he won't be best 
 pleased. I think I'd rather be married to you 
 
 quite quietly, with nobody there but her and 
 
 Do you want any relations?" 
 
 "I've none that I see much of. Yes, that's how 
 I'd like it to be, that's just what I'd have 
 chosen!" he said thankfully. "If you're sure 
 you're not doing it merely for me?" 
 
 "I'd like it best myself. . . . Well, do you 
 think it could be arranged would it be too soon 
 to please you?" 
 
 "Too soon?" he queried densely. 
 
 "I couldn't cable 'don't come'; I can't do that! 
 Don't you see?" 
 
 He groped confused among these feminine 
 subtleties. "I'm afraid I'm stupid?" 
 
 She could not deny it, but there was something 
 of material pity in her touch. "The only 
 thing I can do," she explained patiently, "is 
 to say in my letter that I'm marrying you before 
 before anybody could get there. It'd be 
 quite two weeks before anyone could arrive. 
 Would you care to? are you so impatient as all 
 that?" 
 
 "I'd like to marry you the day we land!" he 
 cried, with enthusiasm; "I'll get a special 
 licence. I don't know how long it takes, 
 but " 
 
68 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 "That's just what I was wondering," she said. 
 "How do you find out?" 
 
 "I suppose you ask people," said Keith 
 vaguely. "It never occurred to me to wonder 
 how anybody got married. Evidently it's not 
 difficult." 
 
 "It's always happening, isn't it?" said Betty. 
 "I expect there are books that tell you. An 
 encyclopaedia wouldn't give it, would it?" 
 
 "Whitaker!" he said. "I should think Whita- 
 ker would give it. Perhaps there's one in the 
 library." 
 
 They rang the bell, and inquired. In a few 
 minutes the book was in their hands. They bent 
 together over the index. 
 
 ' 'Marriage' !" he read triumphantly. "Here 
 we are! 'Marriage before Registrar' they put 
 that first. You wouldn't, though, would 
 you?" 
 
 "No," she said, "I don't want a stuffy wedding 
 like that. I'd like a litle church, quite simple, 
 
 and very, very old, with ivy on it, and But 
 
 we won't find that in the book! Let's see what 
 comes next! We can't attend to business if you 
 try to kiss my fingers, Dick. 'British Subjects 
 abroad,' 'By Banns- 
 
 "Banns take three Sundays," he said. "I 
 know; my father was a clergyman." 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 69 
 
 "Is that so? I never knew that! I won I 
 wonder if that's why you're so good?" 
 
 He laughed, colouring. ' 'Marriage Licences, 
 Office for' page 180. Don't these leaves stick!" 
 
 "They've put it on the same page as the 
 Bankruptcy Department!" she said indignantly. 
 "Now, isn't that tactless? You go to Knight- 
 rider Street from ten till four. Well, just listen 
 to this! 'Office for granting marriage licences, 
 and Court of Peculiars'! Aren't they rude? 
 Oh, this is all prosy, let's try back! . . . 'Certi- 
 ficates.' We haven't seen 'Certificates.' I 
 daresay they'll tell us all about it there are two 
 pages of them." 
 
 Keith took the book. "This is it," he said: 
 ' 'Special licences,' that's what I want. 'Are 
 granted by the Archbishop of Canterbury 
 
 "The Archbishop of Canterbury! That's just 
 splendid!" chirruped Betty. 
 
 1 'Under special circumstances 
 
 "That's us!" 
 
 ' 'For marriage at any place, with or without 
 previous residence in the district, or at any time, 
 et cetera.' Well, they couldn't say more!" 
 
 "They do" she leant over his shoulder; 
 "you're skipping the fees." 
 
 "The fees don't matter twopence." 
 
 "I can't sanction anything approaching ex- 
 
70 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 travagance," said Betty severely; "I hope I am 
 not marrying an extravagant man? Anyhow, 
 you aren't through yet there's a 'But.' ' She 
 pointed. ' 'But the reasons assigned must be 
 such as to meet with his Grace's approval.' Oh! 
 Do you think the Archbishop of Canterbury 
 would approve of our reasons, Dick, if you put 
 them to him very nicely?" 
 
 "I don't know," said Keith; "I've never met 
 him. Wait a minute 'Licences are of two 
 kinds/ let's try the other! . . . 'Licence is avail- 
 able as soon as it is issued.' That's sensible. 
 Hello, here's something in italics, though ! Er 
 'One of such parties hath had his or her usual 
 place of abode for the space of fifteen days 
 immediately preceding the issuing of the licence 
 within the boundary.' Well, neither of us has! 
 I've been away for months." The artist's brow 
 was harassed. "It's a very complicated matter, 
 I had better go to a solicitor." 
 
 "There's nothing wrong with fifteen days," 
 she declared; "if you get the licence fifteen 
 days after I write, it'll just suit. I couldn't 
 marry you sooner than that and leave Dardy all 
 
 alone, after bringing her away to please " 
 
 She stopped, embarrassed. "Oh, Dick! I do 
 wish I had said 'Yes' at the beginning. I've been 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 71 
 
 so hateful, you don't know. You do forgive me, 
 don't you?" 
 
 "Forgive you! You're an angel from 
 heaven!" 
 
 "No," she pouted, "You're not to think about 
 me like that; it'd be such a come down for me 
 afterwards. Don't love me for an angel, Dick 
 I want you to love me for the little cat I am." 
 
 He took her in his arms, and pictured the life 
 they were to lead. He kissed the pout from her 
 lips and the shadow from her eye. She cooed 
 childish names to him, and they laughed to- 
 gether. 
 
 This was the conclusion of his "serious talk" 
 to her about giving her up. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 SHE wrote her letter from the Carlton. She 
 began by saying that "Richard had been on the 
 C aroma too," and felt guiltily that her father 
 would have no faith in the implied coincidence. 
 In Lynch's daughter the propensity to manoeuvre 
 was even stronger than it is in most women, but 
 it disturbed her more than it does most women to 
 be found out. "Money wasn't everything, and 
 she was quite sure she would never repent; and 
 she was going to be married on the 29th. Dardy, 
 of course, would be present. Dardy was very 
 much upset, and was writing to him herself." 
 
 It was a difficult letter. Though she phrased 
 it as gently as she could, she had to dwell upon 
 the point that he was to make no provision for 
 her, and she knew that her acceptance of that 
 condition would be crushing. She was un- 
 comfortably conscious also that he would think 
 less of her intelligence for it. She wanted to be 
 alone when the letter was done. Mrs. Waldehast 
 heard without surprise that she "had a head- 
 ache." 
 
 72 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 73 
 
 But an hour afterwards, when Keith called to 
 put the engagement ring on her finger, she was 
 vividlj T happy again. He had known a night 
 of boyish terrors lest his ring should look paltry 
 to her. Xot only was she the one girl in the 
 world, she was Miss Lynch; and although she 
 had worn no other jewellery than a rope of pearls 
 it was inevitable that she should compare his gift 
 mentally with the rings of her friends. His 
 anxiety had led him to choose one wildly dis- 
 proportionate to his position. Her enthusiasm 
 was not feigned when he opened the case. Mrs. 
 Waldehast herself admitted later that it was 
 "just sinfully sweet of him." 
 
 In the evening he took them to the theatre. 
 He had been extending his knowledge of the 
 marriage laws meanwhile, and Betty learnt that 
 the address of his studio, near the Foundling, was 
 an obstacle in the way of the little church with 
 ivy on it. He had decided to remove tp rooms 
 "at Hampstead or somewhere for the fifteen 
 days it wouldn't be a scrap of trouble." 
 
 They argued the matter in whispers during the 
 progress of the play. She said that she wasn't a 
 baby, and, with the best of bridal egotism, pro- 
 nounced "one church as good as another." He 
 wasn't to be silly! When was that studio of his 
 to be exhibited to them? she was eager to see 
 
74 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 it. Talking of Hampstead, wasn't there a Jack 
 Straw's Castle there? She doted on ruins 
 she'd like to go over it one day. There were a 
 lot of other "sights" in London that she ought 
 to have seen; he must remember she was a 
 foreigner. They compared lists of their neglected 
 duties, and she was amazed to discover that the 
 Englishman had a worse record than she. Yes, 
 this comedy was quite good! She liked the 
 Carlton very much, especially the servants; but 
 the portions in the restaurant were ridiculously 
 big, even as one for two persons she had ordered 
 a lovely dessert and been unable to touch it when 
 the time came. Dardy expected him to come 
 back with them to supper. He couldn't? That 
 was horrid. No, they wouldn't go somewhere 
 with him instead! Well, would he come back 
 and smoke a cigarette in the hall ? It was a very 
 pleasant evening indeed and the author of the 
 piece, who was in the stalls behind them, felt 
 homicidal. 
 
 The ladies were entertained at the studio on 
 the next afternoon, and Betty was secretly dis- 
 mayed by its aspect. Flights of stone steps, and 
 a sparsity of comfort after one had toiled to the 
 top, contrasted very badly with the studios of 
 the eminent that she had viewed in Paris. She 
 resolved that the studio when they took a house 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 75 
 
 should be far worthier of the august pictures that 
 she didn't understand. However, the host was 
 so fervidly grateful for the visit that she offered 
 to repeat the boon. 
 
 "I hope you didn't mind, Dardy he couldn't 
 have given us nicer cakes and candies, could he?" 
 
 "I mind nothing, except his income, and the 
 absence of an elevator," sighed Mrs. Waldehast. 
 
 "I'm sure the tea was as humorous as a bad 
 picnic. The dilapidated crone who shuffled in 
 with the cups as big as young wash-bowls was a 
 dream." 
 
 There were various things for the lovers to 
 arrange during the next few days. To deter- 
 mine their home before the 29th was impossible, 
 and they resolved to do their house-hunting 
 afterwards; in the intervals, though, it would be 
 fun to go out and acquire a few necessaries for it 
 just for an hour sometimes, when Dardy didn't 
 feel like leaving the hotel! They made two or 
 three such expeditions, and Betty developed 
 shining virtues in the process of qualifying her- 
 self for a poor man's wife. 
 
 She impressed upon him at the start that he 
 was to be "very careful." She said, "There must 
 be no more wicked loveliness like this ring; I 
 mean it, Dick! It would hurt me. You've got 
 to treat me like a sensible woman." And her 
 
76 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 plan for coping with his tendency towards ex- 
 travagance was charming she forbade him to 
 take out more than a certain amount, and set her 
 dainty face against "cash on delivery." "Now, 
 how much shall it be this morning?" she would 
 say, perpending before she pinned on her hat. 
 It might be that they agreed upon twenty 
 pounds, or upon five ; but, whatever the sum was, 
 it had to be the limit of the morning's expendi- 
 ture. Excepting for two shillings; she allowed 
 him two shillings in excess of the sum, for the 
 purpose of ice-cream. 
 
 Then they would sally forth in quest of an 
 essential cabinet, or a dinner service, and come 
 back the happy owners of a superfluous gramo- 
 phone or a Nankin jar with a branch of almond 
 blossom in it. It did not occur to Betty, to dim 
 her complacence, that they had been less practical 
 to spend the money on a superfluous gramo- 
 phone than on the essential cabinet. Never did 
 they spend more than he took out! and her 
 triumphant air of self-righteousnes was beautiful 
 to see. 
 
 Lynch's reply to the news came by cable, and 
 it was brief. He said nothing of his chagrin, nor 
 did he remonstrate ; but plainly he had no belief 
 that his daughter's spiritual elevation would be 
 maintained : "When you propose to come off the 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 77 
 
 roof, let me know." That was all. It vexed her. 
 She did not ask for her renunciation to be 
 acclaimed, but she wished it to be respected. The 
 reward for being a heroine is the approval of 
 one's own conscience; still, it is annoying when 
 people don't recognise one's role. 
 
 The cable absolved Mrs. Waldehast from 
 further responsibility, and she was able to coun- 
 tenance the situation with a lighter heart now. 
 At this stage, too, it occurred to Keith that he 
 ought to manifest the relatives of whom he had 
 spoken. It would probably be the correct course 
 to take, though he contemplated it with some 
 aversion. His uncle had dissuaded him very 
 strongly from resigning the clerkship, and had 
 always been sore with him for disregarding the 
 advice, especially so since his progress had proved 
 him right. The gentleman, moreover, had smaD 
 faith in the possibility of any really good woman 
 being discovered outside the United Kingdom. 
 
 Sir Percival he had been knighted during the 
 last decade was proud of many things. He was 
 proud of his title, of his great business, which had 
 been quadrupled since he succeeded to it, of his 
 sons in the firm, and his youngest son, Stanley, 
 who was in Holy Orders; not least was he proud 
 of his reputation for rectitude, which stood high 
 in the City. But when he boasted and it was 
 
78 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 often one gathered that his noblest deed was to 
 be born an Englishman. 
 
 Like his nephew, he held that every man had 
 a duty to his country, and his patriotism took 
 the form of disparaging every country on the 
 Continent. He declined to cross the Channel; 
 his annual holiday, with a thrifty wife, was spent 
 in Bognor, or some other south coast spot equally 
 depressing, to which they travelled third class. 
 "There is too much want in the world for us to 
 waste money on self-indulgence," he would say. 
 But he did nothing with his money to abate the 
 want. He had admonished his brother for allow- 
 ing Richard to study art in Paris partly because 
 art was frivolous ; and partly, because Paris was 
 in France. He frowned upon alien improve- 
 ments, although the insular variety might be 
 impracticable. No "time-saving appliance" 
 emanating from foreign brains was ever favoured 
 by Keith &,Sons; the office was one of the last 
 in East India Avenue to adopt the typewriter, 
 and one of the few that still exalted the native 
 mahogany desk, with drawers that took five min- 
 utes to lock, over the transatlantic article, in 
 which they fastened automatically. Upon Amer- 
 ica, indeed, Sir Percival was particularly severe; 
 he regarded its nation as swindlers to a man, and 
 its achievements as an insult to the British 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 79 
 
 Throne. No one could have seemed less likely 
 to favour an engagement to Lynch's daughter. 
 
 Still, one ought to produce relations! And 
 Mrs. Waldehast had shown a lively interest in the 
 title when she heard it. Keith went to call upon 
 his uncle and aunt. 
 
 They had a large, meagrely furnished house, 
 and utilitarian grounds, in Clapham Park, which 
 was not the Clapham where Keith and his 
 mother had had their lodgings. There are four 
 Claphams. Clapham Park is imposing, Clapham 
 Common is successful, Clapham Road is genteel, 
 and Clapham Junction is low. Clapham Park, 
 however, is as awkward a neighbourhood to reach 
 as can be found in the whole of London, and a 
 highly inconvenient place of residence for any- 
 body who doesn't keep a motor-car or a carriage. 
 Sir Percival disapproved of motor-cars and car- 
 riages for those blessed with health. On fine 
 mornings he walked briskly to the station of the 
 City and South London Railway; on wet morn- 
 ings the livery stables supplied a cab. As to 
 Lady Keith's convenience, "I am grateful to say 
 that my dear wife is vigorous," he would explain 
 piously, "and the Lord gave her legs." Keith 
 overtook the vigorous lady trudging resignedly 
 along the miles which have recently been re- 
 
80 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 christened "King's Avenue.". She had been buy- 
 ing "serviceable things" in Brixton. 
 
 "Well, I never!" she murmured. "I'm just 
 going in. Your uncle ought to be back by now 
 I made him promise to come home early to-day, 
 he's been poorly of late. Nothing serious; he's 
 been suffering with a touch of rheumatic 
 neuralgia. We were afraid it was his heart, but 
 the doctor says it all comes from the same thing. 
 Such a relief to us all! The damp has been so 
 trying, it's pulled him down terribly." After 
 an appreciable pause, she added, "And how are 
 you?" 
 
 "I'm all right, thanks," he said. "I've been 
 away in America." 
 
 "Really ? Still painting, Richard ?" 
 
 "Yes," said Keith drily, "I'm still painting." 
 
 "Your uncle often speaks of you," she an- 
 nounced. 
 
 He tried to look flattered. The lady sighed. 
 "And what are you painting?" she asked, in the 
 tone in which she might have said, "And what 
 are you going to be when you grow up, my little 
 man?" 
 
 They had reached the gate, and the gardener 
 informed them that Sir Percival had returned. 
 They found him in the drawing-room, reading the 
 evening papers. 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 81 
 
 "What, Richard? This is indeed an unex- 
 pected honour!" he exclaimed, with ponderous 
 pleasantry. 
 
 "How are you, sir ? I'm sorry to hear you have 
 been under the weather." 
 
 The knight related his symptoms. "Where do 
 you spring from?" he inquired at last. 
 
 "He tells me he has been to America," said 
 Lady Keith. "You might touch the bell, Rich- 
 ard ; I'm dying for a cup o' tea." 
 
 "America? Have you? A strange country!*' 
 He shook his head heavily. "A very strange 
 country!" 
 
 "A very wonderful country, sir." 
 
 "Wonderful? Well y-e-s, yes, I suppose it 
 may even be called 'wonderful.' Scarcely the 
 word I should apply, though, I think. 'Wonder- 
 ful' suggests to the mind something worthy of 
 admiration. 'Wonderful'- However! Help 
 yourself to a cigarette." He was snfoking a 
 cigar. "What were you doing there?" 
 
 "I went over to paint a portrait of a Society 
 woman, Mrs. Waldehast. I don't know if you've 
 heard of her?" 
 
 "I think I have heard the name," said Sir 
 Percival. "A profitable commission?" 
 
 "Very." 
 
 "Good! I should like to see you have more 
 
82 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 encouragement. I'm afraid, though, that pic- 
 tures He shook his head again. "Well, 
 well, we mustn't cry over spilt milk! 'Wakle- 
 hast'? Wall Street, I think?" 
 
 "I really don't know," said Keith. "They're 
 very well off, they entertain a great deal. . . . 
 Mrs. Waldehast is very intimate with Miss 
 Lynch." 
 
 "Lynch's daughter?" exclaimed his aunt. 
 "I didn't know he had one. Did you see him 
 too?" 
 
 "Lynch!" put in Sir Percival sapiently. 
 "The true embodiment of the American spirit!" 
 
 "Surely, sir ? The outcry against him in. 
 America is a thousand times stronger than it is 
 here." 
 
 "My dear Richard" his emphasis was touchy 
 "the Americans who cry out would all act in 
 exactly the same way if they had the power. 
 Commercial integrity is unknown in America 
 perfectly unknown! You have just given us an 
 instance; you speak of Society people who are 
 Very intimate' with him. Do you imagine that 
 English people in a similar position would be 
 intimate with a a notorious scoundrel, a man 
 who has defied the laws of his country, who 
 would be in prison if justice were administered 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 88 
 
 there as fearlessly as it is with Us? He is he 
 is However!" 
 
 "I am not defending Lynch; I only say that 
 he is not typical." 
 
 "I can tell you of one incident in the career of 
 these Society people's intimate acquaintance," 
 went on Sir Percival, addressing his wife, for the 
 benefit of his nephew. "The Trust had ar- 
 ranged a 'deal' in B stock, and Lynch ruined a 
 medical man, with whom he was on most cordial 
 terms, by deliberately giving to him, amongst 
 others, a false tip. He advised the man to buy 
 as much B stock as he could and to buy before 
 noon the next day, or 'he would have to pay 
 twenty dollars more; the tip was confidential'! 
 Of course Lynch counted upon his telling just 
 one friend, and upon the friend telling another, 
 and so forth. The quotation opened firm the 
 next day nearly every broker sqemed to have 
 orders to buy B stock ; but before twelve o'clock 
 it was known that the Trust had been a con- 
 tinuous seller, and was still forcing sales. It was 
 supposed that something was wrong; there was a 
 panic. Every buyer in the morning was a seller 
 at best in the afternoon. The Trust had sold 
 half a million stock by twelve o'clock and had 
 bought it back before evening at an average of 
 ten points less ! In other words, the Trust netted 
 
84 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 five million dollars, and hundreds of people were 
 ruined in a day to pay for it. Lynch's lie cost 
 the medical man the savings of a lifetime, and 
 he was found dead in his consulting room. When 
 someone reproached Lynch for it, he sneered. 
 'What of it? In business, everybody for him- 
 self!' he said." 
 
 The lady signified her horror, and passed the 
 buttered buns. Keith decided not to announce 
 his engagement this afternoon, the conversation 
 had started on unfortunate lines; he must make 
 an excuse at the hotel. But when he rose to leave, 
 they would not hear of his going ; he was pressed 
 to remain and dine. After all, it would be better 
 to get the announcement over before he went 
 if he were to stay, there would be three or four 
 hours before him! He sat down again; and his 
 aunt displayed with reverent hands a stole that 
 she was embroidering for Stanley. She was 
 "sorry that Keith hadn't come on the morrow 
 instead, when Stanley was expected." Sir Perci- 
 val hospitably interposed, "However!" 
 
 It was a dismal household. The two elder 
 boys had married hurriedly, and now that they 
 had escaped, it was duller still. Keith scarcely 
 knew them, but he sat regretting that they were 
 not there. Dinner came when fortitude was at 
 its last inch. 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 85 
 
 The adjournment was made in silence. A 
 gloomy parlourmaid stood at attention by the 
 sideboard. Sir Percival, erect, muttered in, a 
 deep bass, which had in it something peremptory, 
 "O Lord, relieve the wants of others, and give 
 us grateful hearts." And, having shifted the 
 responsibility, tucked in. 
 
 He liked a good port his prejudices against 
 things Continental stopped short at vineyards 
 and it was when the port was reached that Keith 
 plucked up courage to impart his news. 
 
 "By the way," he began, "I have something 
 to tell you both; I'm going to be married." 
 
 "Married?" faltered Lady Keith. Her hus- 
 band stared. 
 
 "Er we must congratulate you," he said. 
 
 "Thanks very much. I hope I should like 
 her to meet you." 
 
 "Oh yes, you must bring the lady to see us 
 one day. Your aunt will be - Eh, Emily?" 
 
 "Oh yes, I'm sure," she said vaguely. 
 
 "An engagement of long duration?" 
 
 "No, it's very recent. -I met her when I was in 
 New York." 
 
 "An American lady?" He was raising his 
 glass, and it paused midway. 
 
 "Yes. As a matter of fact, she's the daughter 
 of the man we were speaking about Lynch. I 
 
86 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 need hardly say she takes a very different view 
 of things from her father. She Nobody 
 could fail to admire her in every respect! 
 She- 
 
 " You 're engaged to Lynch's daughter?" Sir 
 Percival gasped. His mouth remained ajar. He 
 set his wine back on the table, untasted. After 
 a second or two he ejaculated, with mingled awe 
 and incredulity, "You?" 
 
 "Lynch?" quavered his wife. "The richest 
 man in the world?" 
 
 "One of the richest. Of course she doesn't 
 take any money from him now, or later. I 
 stipulated for that. I think, sir" he threw back 
 his head proudly "I think very few girls, 
 American or English, could do a greater thing 
 than she is doing? She won't touch a shilling 
 of his money ; she is content to live on what I can 
 make for her." 
 
 Sir Percival could be heard breathing. "You 
 have stipulated that she shall take no money from 
 him?" he stuttered. 
 
 "Naturally." 
 
 "Richard!" cried his aunt. "Why, he could 
 give her millions !" 
 
 "I suppose he could." He was beginning to 
 feel astonished. "Shameful millions. The amount 
 doesn't affect the question." 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 87 
 
 "My my dear Richard," said Sir Percival 
 stertorously, "you astound me! You are en- 
 gaged to Lynch' s daughter and you oppose his 
 making a settlement on her, you oppose his tak- 
 ing a course that is only fit and proper? It's in- 
 conceivable! What what possible justification 
 have you for such a such an act of madness?" 
 
 Dumfounded, Keith looked from the gentle- 
 man to the lady. She met him with, "I must say 
 I think you're flying in the face of Providence!" 
 Her eyes were aghast. 
 
 "Your view is intemperate," continued Sir 
 Percival, in a suaver and judicial tone. "Let us 
 be just. Above all things, my dear boy, let us 
 be just. The lady is his child; it is no more than 
 right that on her marriage with one less richly 
 blessed with worldly possessions her father should 
 provide for her maintenance in the style she is 
 accustomed to. It is his duty. You do not 
 if you will allow me to point it out to you you 
 do not influence him to fulfill the many duties 
 that he neglects already by resisting his fulfil- 
 ment of one more. You are marrying her, I take 
 it, from motives of er esteem, and so forth; 
 your sentiments cannot be in any way impugned 
 by your participating in her financial advantages. 
 It develops upon you to do so. My own sense 
 of honour" he said it in large capitals "is, I 
 
8 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 think, sufficiently well known for my assurance 
 on the matter to have some weight." 
 
 Keith felt very young, and was very contemp- 
 tuous of himself for being disconcerted. Mo- 
 mentarily he was bending over a ledger again, 
 nervous at the sound of his stately uncle's foot- 
 step in the outer office. 
 
 "Do you consider that Lynch' s money has 
 been fairly made?" he asked. "The whole 
 thing resolves itself into that." 
 
 It was the other's turn to be disconcerted; his 
 denunciation of Lynch was awkwardly recent. 
 He sighed. "This takes me back I recognise 
 your mother," he murmured. "How I warned 
 her against those wretched shares! You re- 
 member, Emily? She also was However!" 
 
 Keith squared his jaw. Was he to assert 
 himself only to poor little Betty? 
 
 "I'm afraid we're wandering from the point. 
 The point is that I in common with the rest of 
 the world regard Lynch's millions as damn- 
 ed- 
 
 "Hush!" The knight's white hand expos- 
 tulated. 
 
 "I beg Aunt Emily's pardon and yours, if I 
 have shocked you. We say that a fortune which 
 has been acquired by wholesale trickery and 
 oppression is an infamous fortune, that one man 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 89 
 
 has no right to use his abnormal wealth to crush 
 a poorer multitude out of existence. In half the 
 States of America he has ground men to their 
 death, and forced women and girls to worse than 
 death " 
 
 "Really, I must remonstrate! Such allusions 
 are unseemly." His nostrils exhaled virtue. 
 The lady pursed her mouth; if she had worn a 
 fringe, her eyebrows would have disappeared 
 altogether. 
 
 "And we hold him accursed for it," con- 
 cluded Keith doggedly. "If we admit we were 
 mistaken in thinking such methods evil, then he 
 is owed a world-wide apology; but while we 
 continue to think what we do of them, the man 
 who was willing to profit by the methods would 
 be as culpable as Lynch!" 
 
 Sir Percival tapped the table, musing. He 
 rose, and forced a smile. 
 
 "Always headstrong, Richard," he said, with 
 affectionate regret; "always self-willed!" 
 
 The drawing-room was more oppressive than 
 before, and the visitor said good-night as early 
 as he could. Lady Keith, who had resumed her 
 reverential stitches for the clergyman, repeated 
 her counsel against "flying in the face of Provi- 
 dence" as she turned a cheek to be saluted. The 
 knight magnanimously asked for "Miss Lynch's 
 
90 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 address, that we may call upon our future niece." 
 
 They called, and toadied her. 
 
 This was Keith's first experience of the advice 
 that people had to give him. 
 
 His second was with Tomlinson. Tomlinson 
 shared a studio in the same block, and had 
 chanced to be presented to Betty and Mrs. 
 Waldehast one day when they came. He was an 
 elderly little failure, with an unobservant man- 
 ner and acute observation for everything except 
 landscape, which he painted. Apparently he had 
 been unconscious that the ladies were worth look- 
 ing at, but the next time he met Keith on the 
 stairs he said timidly, "It was a treat to see those 
 friends of yours. They're the kind that glide 
 and sink." 
 
 "That do what?" 
 
 "They move and sit down properly the right 
 sort of women glide and sink; the others bounce 
 and bump. I should like to see them again." 
 
 "I daresay you will," said Keith. "Come in- 
 side and have a drink." 
 
 Tomlinson crept in, with his hands in his 
 trouser : *pockets and his pipe between his teeth. 
 With early training, he might have been a suc- 
 cessful journalist, or perhaps a detective; an en- 
 thusiasm for art had condemned him to cheerful- 
 ness upon a pittance, and other men's whisky. 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 91 
 
 But for a relative somewhere, he would have 
 starved. 
 
 "Done anything with the studies you brought 
 back from America yet?" he inquired. 
 
 "No, I haven't been working, I'm not in the 
 vein. Are you busy?" 
 
 Tomlinson nodded absently. He had been 
 busy making the round with a couple of sketches 
 and failing to sell them. His feet ached. Pres- 
 ently he would put the canvases back on the easel 
 and devoutly admire them. Mercifully he did 
 not know that he couldn't paint, and nobody but 
 a dealer would have been brutal enough to say 
 so to his sensitive face. 
 
 "Tomlinson, I'm going to be married." 
 
 Tomlinson smiled pensively. "Well!" he said, 
 not committing himself. 
 
 "To Miss Lynch, the lady you saw here. I 
 shall be giving this place up as soon as I can. 
 Know anyone who'd like to take it off my hands?" 
 
 Tomlinson reflected. Not that there was the 
 slightest prospect of his suggesting a tenant, but 
 it had the air of being "more in the swim" to 
 reflect. "No," he said, "at the moment I can't 
 say I do. When is it to be?" 
 
 "On the 29th." 
 
 "So soon? No relation to Lynch, I suppose? 
 She is an American, I think?" 
 
92 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 "Yes. She's his daughter." 
 
 "My dear fellow!" gasped Tomlinson, drop- 
 ping his pipe. "I say! I do congratulate you, 
 upon my word. Lynch's daughter! You aren't 
 joking?" 
 
 "Oh no, it's right enough." 
 
 "And is he agreeable?" 
 
 "Well, I don't exactly know; it doesn't much 
 matter. I'm marrying her because I'm fond of 
 her, not because her father is a millionaire." 
 
 "Oh, just so, just so!" said Tomlinson hastily. 
 "Still, a million or two to go on with what? 
 'Giving this place up'?" He laughed. "Yes, I 
 suppose you will! We we shan't be able to 
 know you soon, eh ?" 
 
 Keith explained, at some length, and Tomlin- 
 son listened with dumb attention. Then he 
 chuckled knowingly. 
 
 "You're pulling my leg," he said. 
 
 "I'm perfectly serious. Why should it as- 
 tonish you? You know what the Trust is; I 
 think I've heard you rather eloquent on the sub- 
 ject." 
 
 "Oh, as far as that goes All the same, I 
 
 mean to say Well, it's going rather to ex- 
 tremes, isn't it?" 
 
 "What is? Not to pocket one's Conscience 
 when there's money to be made by it?" 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 93 
 
 "My dear chap! 'Pocket one's conscience^'? 
 It isn't a question of anything of the sort. The 
 question is what good do you do? That's what 
 you've got to look at what good do you do?" In 
 view of millions declined, the gentle, deprecatory 
 little man grew excited, even dogmatic. "Is any- 
 body benefited? does it improve matters in any 
 way? The Trust goes on whether you're sensi- 
 ble, or whether you choose to sacrifice a fortune 
 to a theory. No one will thank you for such a 
 piece of quixotism, no one will have any rea- 
 son to thank you! I think I may say my 
 honesty is above the average, but I tell you 
 frankly I should have no scruples." Et cetera. 
 
 Then there was Premlow, whose "Shelling the 
 Peas" and "How Does it Suit Me?" had both 
 been immortalised in Summer Numbers, and 
 framed in so many lodging-houses. Premlow's 
 argument was that one would be more than 
 justified in luxuriating on a scandalous income 
 if one devoted a considerable portion of one's 
 wealth to charities. "A far more practical form 
 of what d'ye call it, my dear boy, than riding the 
 high horse!" And there was Tracey Wynne, the 
 literary stylist, who ejaculated "Tosh!" And 
 there was the sceptic who was reminded of 
 Carlyle's philosophy when his wife was excruci- 
 ated with toothache "It will not be permanent." 
 
94 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 It was remarkable how the news spread, and 
 with what promptitude many persons who had 
 called Lynch's business methods "an outrage on 
 humanity" would have accepted a share of 
 his profits. 
 
 For the honeymoon, Paris had been suggested. 
 Betty had travelled on the Continent much more 
 than Keith, but she had missed, or forgotten, 
 most of the things that he craved to see there. 
 From Rome she had brought only a vague re- 
 membrance of the Michael Angelos 'The 
 Eternal Separating Light from Darkness' was 
 one of the frescoes on the ceiling somewhere, 
 wasn't it?" She had spent a week in Vienna, but 
 was not sure if she had seen Rembrandt's portrait 
 of his mother. In Dresden, the Sistine Madonna 
 had been impressed on her mind chiefly by the 
 fact that it was reproduced on all the postcards 
 in the shop windows. Eager to be a companion, 
 she had told Keith that he must take her to the 
 Louvre and teach her to understand he must 
 explain to her why the pictures that he loved best 
 were beautiful. And he had promised, promising 
 himself at the same time not to bore her. Then 
 she decided that she would prefer the country in 
 England "that would be new to her." She re- 
 frained from adding that Paris, visited econo- 
 mically, would also be new to her, and less pleas- 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 96 
 
 antly so. They wanted rusticity without dis- 
 comfort, rural scenes to wander in, and civilised 
 quarters to return to. Finally, an hotel between 
 Tunbridge Wells and the village of Rusthall was 
 chosen. If the weather were kind, the situation 
 would fulfil their requirements perfectly; and if 
 it were wayward, they would try the other side 
 of the Channel after all. 
 
 On the evening of the 28th, Betty opened a 
 door and saw her maid packing for her. The 
 wardrobe that was to serve as her trousseau was 
 not particularly extensive, nor was there any 
 valuable lace among it she had always elected 
 to dress with comparative simplicity and seldom 
 paid more than thirty or forty guineas for a 
 frock. Having sailed in May, and expecting to 
 be absent only for a month, she had brought 
 scarcely any of her furs, overlooking the fact 
 that she was bound for a country where the winter 
 often began in September and continued into 
 June. The only precious thing among her be- 
 longings here was her rope of pearls, and that 
 was worth so great a sum that she felt she would 
 be inconsistent to keep it. She meant to give it 
 to Dardy Waldehast she had it in her hands 
 as she watched the maid kneeling before a trunk. 
 The woman was going back to New York at the 
 end of the week, and the thought came to Betty, 
 
96 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 as she paused there, that she was watching a 
 maid pack for the last time. The task looked 
 more than ever odious. She was about to part 
 with her pearls cheerfully, but it dismayed her 
 to reflect that henceforward she would have to 
 submit herself to the turmoil of packing. How- 
 ever, she would not dwell on the point. 
 
 "I want you to have this, Dardy," she said 
 presently; "I shan't put it in." 
 
 "What on earth ?" said the other. 
 
 "I don't think it would be fair; I promised 
 empty pockets it wouldn't be playing the game 
 to go to him with a property round my neck." 
 
 "I never heard anything to equal you! It's 
 too beautiful to last. Anyhow, I can't take a gift 
 like that from you. If you're anxious to get rid 
 of it, you had better send it back to your father." 
 
 "What do you propose that my father should 
 do with it wear it in his hair? I want you to 
 take it, Dardy ; you will oblige me." 
 
 Mrs. Waldehast shrugged her shoulders: "I'll 
 take it, but I shall give it to him when I arrive. 
 You're a regular simpleton to let it go." 
 
 But Betty did not feel a simpleton, she felt 
 very happy and very brave. The prospect of 
 the packing was forgotten it was the eve of her 
 wedding day. "I'd think you a nobler woman," 
 he had said. And she was being nobler! she 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 97 
 
 triumphed in the consciousness. Oh, she would 
 always live up to his ideal no doubt one could 
 get used to anything. Besides, she hated to 
 hear Dardy suggest it, and she never harboured 
 the thought, but she couldn't help its encouraging 
 flight across her reverie in moments, it was just 
 possible that later on he might change his mind! 
 Not that she would ever ask him to do such a 
 thing ! she was thoroughly sincere. 
 
 She felt very happy and very brave. There 
 would be none of the pageantry that she had al- 
 ways pictured for her wedding day no strings 
 of carriages, no train-bearers and bridesmaids, 
 no dazzle of presents at a reception, no motor- 
 car to take her away. But she was marrying the 
 man she loved. And after she had kissed her 
 friend good-night, she knelt, and pleaded, "Help 
 me to be as good as I mean to be! And if I do 
 find it a little rough sometimes, O God, pray don't 
 let Dick guess!" 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 "LOVELIEST!" 
 
 "Mmps?" 
 
 "What shall we do this afternoon?" 
 
 "It's time you did some real work, lazy-bones. 
 Come out and paint the Happy Valley." 
 
 "I can't paint out of doors this afternoon, the 
 changes are so rapid when it's sunny. Let me do 
 another sketch of you I haven't painted your 
 dimple yet." 
 
 "It makes one awful conceited to marry an 
 artist there'll be enough portraits of me 'soon 
 to fill a gallery. Where shall I sit, Master?" 
 
 "Here, Most Unique!" 
 
 Then she would sit in his chair, and stroke his 
 hair the wrong way again, and be tender, or way- 
 ward, but always the most wonderful thing that 
 ever wore hairpins and was miscalled "mortal." 
 He had told her on the third day that there were 
 twelve, of her, and that he never knew which 
 "Betty" he was to see next. She said she wouldn't 
 allow him to be nice to the "other eleven," but 
 he found it entrancing. He was the playmate 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 99 
 
 ! 
 
 of a child, and the disciple of a woman; he was 
 teased by a coquette, and captured her to clasp 
 a wife. 
 
 Aflame, he painted her in a white dinner-gown, 
 and in a rose peignoir ; he painted her coiling her 
 hair before the mirror. He painted her with that 
 chin of hers scorning him, and called the sketch, 
 "Mr. Keith, You will please Take Me Back to 
 the Room." "Oh, the disdain of the dearest!" 
 he cried, and showered kisses on her, rejoicing. 
 
 Also he was the lady's maid of a girl who 
 didn't know how to fasten her frocks and who 
 found it perplexing that her hat, and her gloves, 
 and her sunshade failed to come to her of their 
 own accord. 
 
 The white dinner-gown had been especially 
 maddening. It became her so well, and she had 
 wanted to surprise him in it one evening; she 
 sent him away long before the first gong was 
 beaten, so that she might have plenty of time. 
 It was not until she had done her hair and was 
 approving it in the glass, that she remembered 
 that the bodice fastened down the back. 
 
 She rang for help from the chambermaid, but 
 the woman's fingers seemed to be all thumbs, 
 and at last, when she uttered a triumphant 
 "There!" after twenty exhausting minutes, it 
 was perceived that she had strained all the hooks 
 
100 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 into the wrong loops. A tantrum sent her flying 
 to her washhand- stands. 
 
 And the second gong had sounded a long while 
 
 It dashed the bride's pretty intentions to the 
 ground that Keith knocked at the door, and was 
 admitted, looking very nice and composed, while 
 she sat deserted on the edge of the ottoman, hot 
 and despairing. 
 
 "Oh, Dick," she exclaimed tearfully, "I'm such 
 a fraud!" 
 
 "What's the matter?" 
 
 "I can't fasten this loathsome dress down the 
 back. That Annie's a born fool! Go and have 
 your dinner, darling don't wait for me." 
 
 "My poor little kiddymalinks ! Let me try 
 if 7 can button it." 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 "I might," he urged; "I'd be better than 
 Annie." 
 
 "I was laughing at the 'button' they aren't 
 buttons, savage, they're little hooks and loops. 
 Well, go on then, try if you don't want any- 
 thing to eat." 
 
 It was a superhuman task. The hidden hooks 
 began on the right-hand side, and, when he was 
 getting in the way of discovering them there, 
 dodged on to the left. The evasive loops were 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 101 
 
 even more infuriating; it demanded genius to 
 decide, without fatal experiment, which was the 
 loop and which was the pattern of the lace. Yet 
 his perseverance was likewise superhuman. And 
 wasn't it Olympian to be fastening her bodice? 
 Although their dinner when they got it had lost 
 the bloom of its first youth, they were joyous 
 and deserved their champagne. 
 
 They had no fault to find with their Eden. In 
 their indolent moods they sauntered, or sat, un- 
 der the great trees of the grounds. If the 
 thought of shops tempted, they strolled across the 
 common to the Pantiles, where the airs from a 
 modern bandstand did not drown the rustle of a 
 stately past. They bought the print of bygone 
 belles and gallants, or book-markers and brushes 
 of the native ware. One evening they witnessed 
 Dick Turpin's Ride to York, in a tent, and when 
 Tom King, the Gentleman Highwayman, cried: 
 "We are pursood! 'Ark, I 'ear the sound of 
 'orses' 'ooves!" Betty was in raptures with the 
 performance. 
 
 Of tenest they turned to the right, past the little 
 post office next door to the hotel, where they sent 
 their telegram to Mrs. Waldehast before she 
 sailed. Then they wandered into Rusthall. Vil- 
 lage children who had never smelt the sea ran 
 perilously on the rocks that it had left behind, 
 
102 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 but after the sand-castles and the children, all 
 was grass and silence, excepting for the birds. 
 
 Betty liked RusthaU better than "The Wells." 
 She liked the sight of the little ivy-clad church 
 on the edge of the Happy Valley ; and there was 
 the nook that she had found, perched above the 
 sweep of woodland. She said that they "must 
 often come back there when they grew up." 
 
 "It's just the kind of church I meant," she ex- 
 plained once. 
 
 "But we couldn't be more content," said Keith. 
 It was the day that he had painted her contemp- 
 tuous, and the marvel of their marriage was full 
 upon him. The nook was newly magical this 
 afternoon. "To think how nearly I lost you ! To 
 think that I might have been in the studio 
 now " 
 
 "Being industrious!" 
 
 "Eating my heart out! I wonder if you'd 
 have been remembering me I wonder what 
 you'd have been doing now if we hadn't mar- 
 ried?" 
 
 "What time is it in New York?" 
 
 He looked at his watch: "It's still morning 
 about twelve." 
 
 "Isn't that funny! Perhaps I'd have been in 
 bed and asleep, if I had been out late last night." 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 108 
 
 "Then you wouldn't have been thinking of me 
 at all. While iwas- 
 
 " Stamping up and down the studio and calling 
 for Miss Lynch! Well, I might have been 
 dreaming about you, you know. Or perhaps 
 I'd have given a thought to you when they 
 brought in my coffee." 
 
 "Had you a wonderful room, Betty?" 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 "Tell me what it was like." 
 
 "What do you want to know for?" 
 
 "How I wish I could give you a room like 
 it!" 
 
 "Goose! Do you think I care?" 
 
 "Don't you?" 
 
 "Do I?" she whispered. 
 
 Their eyes dwelt together, and he grasped her 
 hand. 
 
 Rain clouds had sombred the sky, and the land- 
 scape was purpling. Far afield little curls of 
 smoke wreathed bluely in the haze the smoke 
 of homes. 
 
 "I'm afraid there's a storm brewing!" 
 
 But the power of the church survived; she 
 loitered before the gate, as she always did. 
 
 "We'll come here on Sunday morning if you 
 like?" he said. 
 
104 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 "I'd like to peep in now," she told him, and he 
 followed her inside. 
 
 It was very quiet and dim there. They waited 
 for a moment by the door, looking towards the 
 east window. 
 
 "It's just the kind of church I meant," she re- 
 peated under her breath. 
 
 He answered with a touch upon her arm, and 
 they crept across the tiled floor together, and 
 paused at the foot of the chancel steps. 
 
 She murmured, "It's just here we should have 
 stood." 
 
 The man's touch slid from her arm to her hand, 
 and the hand welcomed it. Then, as they moved 
 away, she dropped behind him. When he 
 looked round she was but half-way down the 
 aisle, musing again. 
 
 Her fingers greeted his return, but her gaze 
 still brooded on the window. Presently she 
 faltered, "Dickie, I want to 'fess. I wasn't sur- 
 prised that day." 
 : "When?" 
 
 "On the boat. I told her to tell you I was 
 going, Dickie ; I mean to make you give in. ... 
 I feel so small!" 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE accommodation at the studio was much 
 too primitive for them to live there even for a few 
 weeks, so on their return to town they stayed at 
 another hotel, and were provided with a fresh list 
 of disappointments by a house agent every day. 
 It was not such a spacious hotel as the one that 
 they had left, nor was it quite so opulent. The 
 other women's appraising gaze at Betty was not 
 always due to the fact that the newspapers had 
 made her marriage famous every woman there 
 did not recognise her name; but every startled 
 pair of feminine eyes recognised the hang of her 
 skirt. Despite the hooks and loops, Keith had 
 privately resolved that if he could help it she 
 should never dress more cheaply the man no 
 longer exists who sees a girl perfectly gowned 
 and, "duped by the subtle simplicity," thinfes 
 that her clothes cost ten pounds a year. His 
 ghost still haunts fiction, but the man is in his 
 proper place. 
 
 After various expeditions to Chelsea, where 
 everything was either too dear or too nasty, 
 
 105 
 
106 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 they decided upon a semi-detached house in St. 
 John's Wood. The street, unspoilt by the 
 railway, was called Sibella Road, and the house 
 was called something grandiloquent. However, 
 there was the simple remedy of reducing it to 
 a number. A small cheque improved the land- 
 lord's taste in wall-papers, and it remained for 
 Mr. and Mrs. Keith to furnish the villa more 
 completely than with a gramophone and a Nan- 
 kin jar. 
 
 "Nothing happens but the unforeseen" a 
 proverb that has more truth than most of its 
 companions. When Keith had vaguely imagined 
 himself enlisting among the Benedicts, he had 
 had visions of wanderings and hunts, of delight- 
 ful "finds" and precious "bits"; to go to a firm 
 and order en bloc had seemed to him a frenzy of 
 philistinism; yet this was just what he and Betty 
 did, for they were eager to be settled as soon 
 as possible. 
 
 There was an establishment in the West End 
 which undertook to equip anything from a 
 cottage to a mansion, and to show in advance 
 precisely what effect the customer would obtain 
 for his money. The report ran that it was 
 merely necessary to state the sum that one meant 
 to spend, and, with the celerity of Aladdin's 
 Lamp, Commercial Enterprise displayed one's 
 
HOUSE OF LYNCH 107 
 
 future dwelling. Keith meant to spend much 
 more than he could afford he had felt that to 
 be reasonable in the preparation of Betty's 
 home would be an act of barbarity. The 
 painter's profession makes erratic accountants; 
 the artist who, by a lucky chance, sells a month's 
 work for a hundred guineas is liable to say, 
 "That means nearly thirteen hundred a year," 
 and to live up to it till the writs come in. Three 
 hundred pounds Keith meant to spend; and 
 Betty to whom it was something in the nature 
 of a revelation that this didn't imply an ab- 
 sence of carpets protested valiantly that it was 
 "too much." They took a cab to the establish- 
 ment. 
 
 The amount sounded less important to him 
 when he mentioned it amid the splendours of the 
 showroom, but the gentleman who received them 
 heard it with respectful interest, and accom- 
 panied them part of their way. Their future 
 residence, they learnt, was upstairs; a lift would 
 bear them to its door. 
 
 The door stood hospitably ajar; there was no 
 need for them to try whether the antique bell-pull 
 would pull a bell. They entered, smiling, and 
 stole through the tiny hall. Beyond the mimic 
 casements they had glimpses of a canvas garden. 
 No maid was manifest, but their abode stood 
 
108 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 ready for their coming. Flowers gave them wel- 
 come from a table ; books invited from a Sheraton 
 recess beside the hearth. 
 
 They discovered the Best Bedroom. He saw 
 her open with her own hands the wardrobe 
 where she was to hang her sacred things. On 
 the dummy window the morning sun shone 
 bright, and he pictured it shining on her face 
 between those draperies when she woke. Grow- 
 ing bold in domesticity, they chose their pet 
 corners in the drawing-room. "Could you be 
 satisfied here, darling?" he whispered; and she 
 nodded surely. "You shall have that chair, 
 Dickie, and this one shall be mine." She sat. 
 "It's good to be at home, my husband!" she 
 laughed. And in the cardboard house he bent 
 and kissed her. 
 
 They viewed the room where they would sup, 
 where champagne should celebrate the triumph 
 of a picture, and wHere the queen, in the rose 
 peignoir, should be pampered when tired. And 
 then, just as they were remembering that there 
 were preliminaries to be performed, there ap- 
 peared on the enchanted scene a young and win- 
 ning hostess. 
 
 Under the lady's graceful guidance they in- 
 spected more practically. She hinted that the 
 "leaded panes" which gave on to the painted 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 109 
 
 garden would be "extras" if imitated in Sibella 
 Road. There were one or two such trifling dis- 
 illusions. For instance, Keith had taken a fancy 
 to the antique brass fire-irons and electric fittings 
 in the room, and those were not included in the 
 three hundred pounds either. But the charming 
 hostess reminded him that there were probably 
 some other articles here that he would not need 
 at all, and if that were so, the antique brass could 
 be had instead. She seemed to take as kind an 
 interest in the happy pair as if she had made up 
 the match, and Betty said afterwards that, dainty 
 as the House on the Landing was, its young 
 hostess was the most delightful thing that it con- 
 tained. 
 
 It was much simpler to furnish than to find 
 two servants. The capital cook and accomplished 
 house-parlour-maid who advertised for employ- 
 ment at such moderate wages had always taken 
 a situation on the day that Betty wrote to the 
 address that was given. And the address always 
 proved to be a registry office, where a booking 
 fee failed to disclose any domestic comparable 
 with the treasures that had simultaneously van- 
 ished. But even two servants were obtained at 
 last, and the evening came when the love scene 
 in the cardboard house was re-enacted in Sibella 
 Road. Mr. and Mrs. Keith were at home. 
 
110 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 It was beautiful, next morning, to send him 
 upstairs to the studio after breakfast and kiss 
 him for luck. He had told her that he expected 
 her to come in there as often as she liked, but 
 she was much too clever to have the illusion that 
 frequent visits would make for progress, and 
 she intended that his work-hours should be re- 
 spected. After she had sat by the window, glanc- 
 ing at the newspaper which was so stingy with 
 its news of America it occurred to her to put a 
 few touches to the little drawing-room. Its as- 
 pect would be improved by some more cushions 
 and flowers, and the piano needed draping. To 
 buy some of the things before Keith came down 
 would pass the time! She wondered if there 
 were any good shops close by, and rang on im- 
 pulse for her hat and shoes. 
 
 It disconcerted her that the ring evoked a 
 frowsy and forbidding cook, who said shortly, 
 "Good-mornin', ma'am. Shall I take the 
 horders?" 
 
 Betty caught her breath. To her the comic 
 element of the surprise was lacking. The moment 
 was no less grave to the girl than to the man 
 confronting his work overhead. She knew that 
 it was a crisis; that, underlying the petty shock, 
 was the test of her fitness to be his wife and her 
 hopeless inexperience frightened her. But it was 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 111 
 
 Lynch's daughter who, on the brink of disaster, 
 answered, "Yes, please, cook, I have got to see 
 you now." And it was said very well; so far the 
 cook hadn't found her out. 
 
 "What about lunch and dinner 'm?" 
 
 Excepting in a restaurant, she had never 
 ordered a meal in her life. 
 
 "We don't want anything elaborate," she said; 
 "we live very simply." 
 
 "Yes 'm." 
 
 "We shall want some hors-d'oeuvres, and a 
 little consomme, and and some supreme de 
 sole " 
 
 "Some what of sole?" asked the woman, bridl- 
 ing. "What might it all be in Henglish 'm? I 
 was given to understand as it was plain cooking 
 you required." 
 
 "Yes," murmured Betty. "Give us a little 
 caviare, or a few anchovies, and some soup. And 
 we shall want some fish, and so on." 
 
 "How much?" 
 
 "Oh, I don't wish for any waste say, one por- 
 tion between two," said Betty laudably, and 
 realised that she had blundered by the stare. 
 
 Here was meanness! And with a dress like 
 that on her back! "One portion between the 
 two?" stammered the cook, agape. 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 "Well, you get what you think right." It was 
 distressingly new to her to be timid of a servant. 
 
 "You'll leave the quantities to me, ma'am?" 
 She smirked. Not meanness after all only 
 idiocy! She viewed her harvest. "And will you 
 want a joint?" 
 
 "No. We might have a few sweetbreads, and 
 a little poultry, and well, yes, I suppose Mr. 
 Keith would like some meat. Lamb." 
 
 The harvest demanded labour; the smirk sub- 
 sided. "And er vegetables?" 
 
 "Why, yes," said Betty, "of course!" 
 
 "I meant, what are they to be 'm?" 
 
 She sighed. "Well, green peas and beans," 
 she said. 
 
 "Both of 'em?" 
 
 "Well, one or the other." 
 
 "No potatoes 'm?" 
 
 "Oh, of course, I want potatoes," gasped 
 Betty; "do you think I dine without potatoes?" 
 
 The woman sniffed. "What about sweets?" 
 she asked, with umbrage. 
 
 "You can make us a macedoine." 
 
 "A what?" The tone was grim. 
 
 "What do you suggest?" inquired the mistress 
 feebly. 
 
 "Would you like a nice rice pudden, or a 
 happle pie?" 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 113 
 
 "I think we will have meringues." 
 
 "Meringues? Of course, then, you'll border 
 'em when you go hout? Hi couldn't undertake 
 'em." 
 
 "You will send your fellow-servant. And you 
 will send up some strawberries and pears, 
 please." 
 
 "There's no pears in." 
 
 "I don't want them till the evening; there is 
 plenty of time to get them in before dinner." 
 
 "They ain't 'in,' " explained the woman curt- 
 ly, "ain't in season." 
 
 Were there seasons to be considered? Were 
 there such servants to be endured? Nothing 
 comic for the girl, indeed! It was painful, 
 piteous, worse immeasurably worse, than the 
 studio on one of the days when the hand was but 
 a brush-holder and refused to "speak." 
 
 And there was luncheon to be arranged; and 
 the knowledge that, with the morrow, the duty 
 would recur. She had no wish to go and buy 
 flowers, when the door closed behind a complaint 
 about the kitchen range. 
 
 She sat back, and looked at the room with 
 other eyes. Beyond it she saw the palace in 
 Fifth Avenue, and the mansion that was called 
 a "cottage" in Newport. For the first time she 
 paid a tribute to the silence of their domestic 
 
114 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 machinery. Now that she came to think about 
 it, it was surprising how everything had ar- 
 ranged itself! 
 
 In the early afternoon, a headlong rush of 
 rattling traffic, followed by the clatter and crash 
 of cans, shook her from her chair, dismayed. 
 She found that small quantities of milk, from 
 various dairies, were being taken to some of the 
 doors. The violence raged from two o'clock 
 till three, and she wondered at the strange land 
 where a pennyworth of milk was delivered with 
 the frenzy of a revolution. 
 
 Later, she and Keith went for a walk. St. 
 John's Wood did not prove to be a very ex- 
 hilarating quarter, and the sad Wellington Road 
 offered few attractions as a promenade. She 
 felt no enthusiasm when he mentioned that they 
 might drop in to Lord's and watch the cricket 
 sometimes. Though he had trembled in think- 
 ing that the rooms were not large enough for 
 her, that the furniture was not good enough, his 
 misgivings hadn't comprised the thought that 
 she might be dejected by the housekeeping, and 
 he attributed her depression to the hours that she 
 had passed alone. He suggested that she should 
 subscribe to Mudie's on the morrow, and re- 
 minded her that he knew one or two men in the 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 115 
 
 neighbourhood whose wives would be glad of her 
 friendship. 
 
 On their return, she changed her frock, and 
 Keith, who had not guessed that she was going 
 to do so, looked rather slovenly beside her smart- 
 ness when he hooked it. But it was too late to 
 repair his omission now. 
 
 The evening meal was indifferently cooked, 
 and it was abominably served. The maid, who 
 had been merely awkward during the brief 
 luncheon, lost her wits among the unaccustomed 
 courses of dinner. The wife had entered wistful 
 for a few words of praise, but soon she yearned 
 only for the ordeal to conclude. 
 
 The salt had not been smoothed. Bread, in 
 the monstrosity of a cottage loaf, had been set 
 at a corner of the table, and, in the process of 
 cutting it, there were shot across the cloth enough 
 crumbs for a chicken-run. A spot from the 
 luncheon's gravy proclaimed that the cloth had 
 done previous service ; the napkins were tumbled. 
 
 "I thought they would know enough to put 
 on others," she exclaimed penitently. 
 
 "These are all right, aren't they?" he said, 
 surprised. 
 
 She kept her eyes down. "Well, yes," she 
 faltered, "I suppose they'll do." She wouldn't 
 
116 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 let him see it, but it startled her to learn that he 
 didn't expect clean napery at every meal. 
 
 There were intervals that threatened to be end- 
 less, followed by cascades of cutlery, as the 
 flustered servant, in her creaking boots, bustled 
 back with the knives and forks that had been 
 forgotten. She popped the vegetable dishes in 
 front of Betty, and when she was instructed to 
 hand them, breathed heavily on the wrong 
 side. 
 
 "It's an awful change for you, dear," said 
 Keith, during one of the excited colloquies in the 
 kitchen. 
 
 She struggled for a smile. "Oh, it's nothing!" 
 
 But the tension was greater for her than he 
 divined, sorry and shamefaced as he was. She 
 could have dined happily on bread-and-butter in 
 a clean field; this vulgar racket set her nerves 
 quivering. 
 
 "I expect it's my own fault; I've given them 
 too much to do," she murmured, with dry lips. 
 "Perhaps it would be better if we had just one 
 or two things in future ?" 
 
 "Well, I don't think we need be quite so ex- 
 tensive, certainly," he agreed. He had been 
 thinking that they could not afford it, and un- 
 consciously the thought was in his voice. 
 
 Misery gripped her throat. She stared dumbly 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 117 
 
 through the open window into the back yard. 
 The toilette that she made weighed on her she 
 felt ridiculous to be well dressed. Her husband 
 had sat down in a tweed jacket, the table linen 
 was soiled, the servants were unspeakable, it was 
 all revolting and he hinted to her that it was 
 extravagance ! 
 
 Years of her life she would have given at that 
 instant to be alone, to be free to scream unheard. 
 Down her arms, to her very finger-tips, hysteria 
 was clamouring in her. 
 
 The relief was physical when she rose at last; 
 but though she hurried to her room, she dared 
 not scream. She clenched her hands and beat 
 them hard against the wall instead. 
 
 She could not stay away long. 
 
 Dusk was gathering when she descended. In 
 the half-light the little drawing-room had a 
 melancholy air. Farther down Sibella Road an 
 ancient toper, with a harp, was quavering: 
 
 "My mother is with the Hangels now, 
 She is waiting for me there!" 
 
 The feet of the servant pounded along the 
 passage. The clatter from the kitchen continued 
 to be maddening. A lugubrious church-clock 
 droned a quarter past eight. She recognised that 
 there were nearly two hours to be borne before 
 she could credibly assert that she was tired. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 SHE went to bed faint with the fear of the 
 morrow. Like e shy child away from home and 
 yearning to be "fetched" like a prisoner the 
 first time that a sentence of years knells on his 
 consciousness she shrank from the terrors of the 
 life before her. Of course, the servants were ex- 
 ceptionally bad for the wages that they were 
 receiving; of course it is not usual for even a 
 second-class servant to put a loaf on a dinner- 
 table; and of course that first full day was the 
 most poignant of all. But if her husband had 
 not been dearer to her than the man with whom 
 she fell in love, she would have broken down 
 before a week. Not for a single week could she 
 have stood the strain. Whatever the conse- 
 quences, she must have owned herself incapable. 
 
 Besides, if he really understood how wretched 
 she was, she could not doubt that he would yield 
 and consent to her father's providing for them. 
 It was not the dread of a refusal that tied her 
 tongue, nor was it the shame of confessing her- 
 self a failure it was her reluctance to pain him, 
 
 118 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 119 
 
 to stab him by admitting that all his efforts for 
 her happiness were so futile that she could not 
 support the change even for a week. She felt 
 that it would be a cruel thing to do. 
 
 "If he really understood!" Sometimes she 
 wondered if she could have made him under- 
 stand, if she could have made anybody under- 
 stand whom usage had dulled to the life's unrest. 
 He and others would say, "Oh, naturally you 
 don't like being poor ; you miss your big house, 
 and your carriage, and your French cook!" But 
 it wasn't that the villa was little, though the 
 walls' nearness to one another pent her in mo- 
 ments; it wasn't that she walked to St. John's 
 Wood Road Station, instead of having carriages 
 and motor cars at her command; it wasn't that 
 her food was cooked by an incompetent slattern, 
 instead of by a famous chef. It was the vulgar- 
 ity pertaining to small means that crushed her. 
 "What about the kitchen coal 'm?" "The 
 butcher hasn't called for orders 'm!" "We're 
 out of hale 'm, and the shops are shut!" There 
 were women in all the villas of the street; she 
 saw some of them pass the window. They looked 
 complacent, and she envied them. Did they 
 realise the ceaseless preparation behind their* cur- 
 tains? Did they know that a house where one 
 was for ever arranging never became a home? 
 
120 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 Within, there was not, during the day, one 
 hour when she could claim peace and feel safe 
 against intrusion. There was not, during the 
 day, one meal when the sight of the table didn't 
 jar upon her, though she could have eaten the 
 cold beef with contentment. The service, and 
 the bathroom! she had not dreamed till now 
 that it could be nauseous to bathe. The con- 
 tinuous preparation for what was sickening when 
 it came! And the doors that banged, banged, 
 banged, until every pulse in her was expectant 
 of the next slam ! 
 
 Several pressing invitations had reached them 
 from Clapham Park, and once they had paid a 
 duty visit, but they had always excused them- 
 selves from dining there. Lady Keith had, 
 moreover, called at the villa, and attempted 
 gingerly to condole with Betty on "dear Rich- 
 ard's eccentricities." The girl read her like a 
 tale in words of one syllable, and the lady could 
 only gather, to her consternation, that his wife 
 cordially endorsed his views. 
 
 Returning good for evil, she introduced the 
 subject of housekeeping, and was dismayed to 
 learn that nothing here was locked beyond the 
 servants' maw. What an establishment from A 
 toZ! 
 
 "Oh, my dear, but you ought to have every- 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 thing under lock and key!" she sighed. "My 
 cook comes to me at half-past nine every morn- 
 ing with a trayful of cups, and I measure out just 
 what is needed for the next twenty-four hours 
 so much tea, and so much sugar, and so much 
 rice, and so forth." She had picked up "so forth" 
 from the knight. "I think it is our duty to keep 
 temptation out of our servants' way and dis- 
 courage waste. I look forward to my tray!" 
 
 "I'd rather be dead," said Betty carelessly. 
 
 It was a shocking sentiment but the speaker 
 might have revelled in millions! There was 
 nothing to be gained from her even if Richard 
 had apostatised, their wealth would have yielded 
 not a sovereign to the coffers of Clapham Park; 
 yet the mere thought of the millions exalted her 
 to a pinnacle, and "Aunt Emily" had only 
 simpered her dissent. 
 
 The girl had not written to her father of 
 brother since her marriage; her father's cable- 
 gram rankled in her memory, and Howard had 
 not shown enough interest in the matter to wish 
 her happiness. To Mrs. Waldehast, however, 
 she had written gaily hitherto; now she found it 
 difficult to write, though as a rule even formal 
 correspondence was no effort to her. There had 
 been occasion for Keith to communicate with 
 the landlord, and Betty, the butterfly, had 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 suggested phrases that sounded as businesslike 
 as if they had come out of East India Avenue. 
 Her letter from Sibella Road to her friend was 
 accomplished only after she had wasted a good 
 deal of the new stationery. Her first attempts 
 had been very much out of tune, and "I am per- 
 fectly happy," added as an improvement, seemed 
 only to call attention to the flatness of what came 
 before. She was thankful when she finished at 
 last ; the thought of the mail would be no pleas- 
 ure to her in future, nor was she sorry that the 
 Waldehasts' intended trip to Europe had been 
 postponed. 
 
 Though she was at pains to affect good spirits 
 when Keith was present, he was distressfully 
 conscious of a change in her; and the women 
 whose complacence she envied, envied the woman 
 whose housemaid "was always whistling on the 
 doorstep for cabs in the evening." He examined 
 the rooms, trying to conjecture what deficiency 
 must mean the greatest hardship to her. Her 
 toilet-service looked very* meagre, and he de- 
 termined to surprise her with a better one. He 
 was surprised himself to learn the prices, but 
 paid ten pounds for little silver pots and bottles, 
 delighted with his inspiration. 
 
 "You won't feel such a pauper when you go 
 to your dressing-table now!" he crowed as she 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 123 
 
 unpacked the parcel. The toilet-service that she 
 had left on her table in New York had been ac- 
 quired in the rue Drouot for seventy-five thou- 
 sand francs, and had once belonged to the Em- 
 press Josephine. 
 
 "You angel! Aren't they sweet? I am proud 
 of them!" she exclaimed. But she felt poorer 
 than before, because the tenderness of his error 
 made the gift pathetic to her. 
 
 How could she say to this man, "I am miser- 
 able"? When he questioned her, she vowed that 
 there was nothing the matter. 
 
 For a long while he had had elusive visions of 
 a picture which had named itself in his mind, 
 "The Harbour of Souls." He saw the misty 
 forms of frail craft floating out of shadow into 
 the whiteness of dawn. Some of the craft had 
 been storm-tossed on the way. Age and youth 
 were among the vague figures; a girl had sunk 
 under torn sails, but her gaze was cairn now. 
 Over all was silence. The light, the still water, 
 the faces, all meant peace. 
 
 The mental impression attracted him power- 
 fully, but the whole scheme remained indefinite 
 because his recent expenses had reduced his 
 capital so much that he feared to begin the 
 sketches for the picture. He knew very well 
 that, if he did so, he would crave to work on it 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 exclusively, and he could not afford the indul- 
 gence. Instead, he worked on a canvas that he 
 had blocked in roughly in America; and he sold 
 two smaller studies that he had brought back; 
 he sold them to Vivard, the dealer, a cad in the 
 clothes of a gentleman. It had once happened 
 that an unfamiliar artist, intruding into the 
 sanctity of Vivard's, had been mistaken for a 
 customer and the artist had never forgotten his 
 experience of Vivard's two manners. 
 
 Betty had dimly supposed that painters sent 
 nearly all their pictures in cabs to the Academy, 
 or that Vivard, or Kluht, or one of those people, 
 came to the studios and made respectful offers; 
 to see Keith prepare to go forth with two can- 
 vases for sale under his arm had been not a little 
 startling. But here, the American spirit in her 
 made her dauntless; she was no snob. While 
 the managing clerk's wife across the way sneered 
 at "such a common business," the multi-million- 
 aire's daughter went to the gate with her hus- 
 band and wished him luck. 
 
 One afternoon, when they had been in Sibella 
 Road between two and three weeks, the servant 
 came to the studio to tell Keith that her mistress 
 was not at home, and that a gentleman was ask- 
 ing for them. 
 
 "What name did he give?" 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 125 
 
 "He told me to say it was Mrs. Keith's father, 
 sir." 
 
 Keith started; no visitor could have been less 
 welcome. "Oh!" he said. "All right. Is he in 
 the drawing-room?" 
 
 "No, sir; I left 'im in the 'all." 
 
 "Well, show him into the drawing-room, and 
 say I'll be with him in a few minutes." 
 
 Lynch settled himself on the six-pound settee 
 leisurely, drawing deductions. On the whole, 
 his girl's room was not so bad as he had dreaded, 
 the aspect of the street had foretokened some- 
 thing meaner, but it was piteous and impos- 
 sible. He rejoiced that he had come she might 
 have been too proud to own her mistake for 
 months. As to this husband of hers, he was 
 doubtless kicking himself for his heroics by now, 
 even assuming that they were more than a 
 manoeuvre at the start. In Betty's interests, 
 though, one must affect to be fooled by him. It 
 would have been refreshing to hear that he had 
 met with an accident and been killed. 
 
 Keith came in. "Mr. Lynch? I am sorry my 
 wife is out." He did not offer his hand. 
 
 "Well, Mr. Keith! I am glad to meet you. I 
 have neglected some business to do so." 
 
 "Won't you sit down?" 
 
 "Thank you. Is Betty well?" 
 
126 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 "Yes, thanks. I expect she'll be back before 
 very long." 
 
 They regarded each other curiously the 
 swindler trying to see into the mind of his son- 
 in-law; his son-in-law loathing the necessity for 
 receiving the swindler with politeness. 
 
 "Mr. Keith, you and I have got to have quite 
 a chat ; I guess we have got to arrive at a friendly 
 understanding." 
 
 "Do you think it's essential for us to introduce 
 any painful subject?" asked Keith nervously. 
 
 "I shall make a blunt answer to that: if 
 Betty was not married to you, it would not con- 
 cern me to -correct your prejudices. But my 
 daughter cannot continue to be dependent on her 
 husband's professional earnings we are not 
 playing opera-bouife. I have too much affection 
 for my child to let her suffer rather than put 
 myself in a humiliating position. I will only 
 ask you to make it as little humiliating to me as 
 your views permit I am an old man, and a 
 more sensitive one than I allow my enemies to 
 believe." 
 
 Involuntarily Keith liked him better. "My 
 own wish would be to avoid the position alto- 
 gether," he said gently. 
 
 "I appreciate your meaning. But my girl is 
 dear to you too; for her sake you will see that 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 127 
 
 it is our duty not to spare ourselves. You have 
 a very remarkable character, Mr. Keith; I have 
 the very highest admiration for your principles; 
 but I shall be candid I have no admiration 
 for your financial judgment. You have shown 
 me that it is too impulsive." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 "By forming a decision before you had an op- 
 portunity to investigate the system that you 
 have condemned. You let yourself be carried 
 away by the side that shouted, and you forgot 
 that it might be the silent side that was right. 
 Xow I am going to say to you what it don't in- 
 terest me to say to any other of my critics: my 
 enterprises are open to your inspection, Mr. 
 Keith ask me any questions you please, and I 
 will answer them." 
 
 "You pay me a great compliment," said 
 Keith drily, "but, as you may be aware, I am 
 not qualified to examine you on financial mat- 
 ters, even if I wished to do it." 
 
 "Should not examination precede the ver- 
 dict?" 
 
 "Mr. Lynch, the examination has been made 
 by experts, and the verdict returned by the 
 world." 
 
 The heroics were genuine, the man meant it! 
 If Betty had only stood firm ! But she had given 
 
128 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 him full swing, so he had to be conciliated. 
 There was hatred in Lynch's heart, and good- 
 humour in his smile. 
 
 "Has experience in your own line convinced 
 you that the world's verdict is always sound? 
 I guess I have heard of great artists much mis- 
 apprehended by the world?" 
 
 Keith found no reply. 
 
 "Come, Mr. Keith, I want you to see it my 
 way! Put these difficulties of yours before me, 
 and I will meet them squarely and not entirely 
 for Betty's sake now; I like your grit. You 
 haven't cool brains, but you have something 
 more wonderful ; I should be proud to shake your 
 hand before I go, and you have got to do me 
 justice before that can happen. See here, 
 Betty's husband has got to be right on top! I 
 hear you are a genius and everybody has got 
 to recognise it. I don't know much about your 
 profession, but I know something about life. I 
 presume that the artist who can take a big house 
 and entertain big people will get there consider- 
 ably sooner than the artist who has no dollars to 
 speak for him. I aim at seeing you President 
 of the Royal Academy. What is there between 
 us? There always have been, and there always 
 must be, a few very rich men; and there always 
 have been, and there always must be, many more 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 129 
 
 very poor ones. To abuse a millionaire because 
 there are bankrupts on the earth is as unreason- 
 able as to sling mud at Niagara because there 
 are droughts." 
 
 "Nobody but an anarchist, or some other sort 
 of lunatic, would abuse a man merely for being 
 a millionaire, or a multi-millionaire. One reviles 
 methods, not millions." 
 
 "Well, let us get down to business! Between 
 you and I there can be a perfect frankness. 
 What are the methods that are worrying you?" 
 
 "I'd rather not go into details to Betty's 
 father, and in my own house." 
 
 "It's just strait-laced square dealing that you 
 quit talking generalities and specify your ob- 
 jections." 
 
 "Well, then, I object to a fortune amassed by 
 refusing poorer men the power to live. I find 
 the methods of such a Trust as yours, sir, as 
 devoid of Christianity, and patriotism, and 
 sympathy as the methods of the primeval ages, 
 when Might was Right. And I object to a 
 fortune amassed by plunder, by wholesale 
 trickery, and perjury, and corruption; by 
 bribing a Press to spread lies broadcast for the 
 snare of the life-earnings of thousands, and the 
 inquitous enrichment of a few millionaires who 
 have already more millions than they can spend 
 
130 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 lies of enormous finds in mines that are worth- 
 less, and of enormous profits from shares that 
 are being given a fictitious value by bogus trans- 
 actions. I object to a fortune that creates de- 
 faulters, and suicides, and prostitutes and I ob- 
 ject to my wife battening on them!" 
 
 He had said it, although his voice had shaken 
 and his pulses had thumped; and though he was 
 too unnerved now to look at Lynch, he was glad 
 that it was said. Behind Lynch's impassive 
 features fury was blazing; and behind the fury 
 was one poignant, pure regret : "That's how he 
 speaks of me to my girl!" 
 
 It was not a moment when he could afford 
 fury the moment demanded prompt, grave, 
 and whole-hearted lying. 
 
 "You would be quite right to object," he said 
 smoothly. "So would any honest man! But 
 why accept this poppycock without investigation? 
 You repeat the charge that I bribe a section^of 
 the Press to spread lies for the snare of in- 
 vestors. Mr. Keith, that charge is itself a lie 
 which a section of the Press was bribed to spread. 
 It was the other side of the game!" He smiled 
 wistfully. Richard, meeting his gaze, confused, 
 found it deep with reproachful sorrow. If a 
 stranger had entered the room, he would have 
 taken the accuser for a culprit, and the scoundrel 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 131 
 
 for a benefactor whose confidence had been be- 
 trayed. "Might is not necessarily Right? No, 
 sir. But do not imagine that Noise is necessarily 
 Truth. A man cannot make millions without 
 making enemies too. I do not say I am a philan- 
 thropist, I shall not pretend to you for a single 
 instant that my notions are as lofty as all your 
 own the world has been too rough on me for 
 me to have a wholesale tenderness for the world. 
 You have spoken of 'patriotism.' W-e-11, I am 
 a naturalised American citizen; but I was born 
 in this wet little island, and as a poor boy I found 
 England no more interesed in my miseries than 
 I afterwards found America. When I went 
 without shoes, the stones of Lancashire were no 
 gentler to my feet because I trod my native land. 
 When I had empty pockets, the British store- 
 keepers were no more benevolent than the aliens. 
 If I had died of starvation on the street, my 
 death would have caused no more concern to 
 England than to any other country. I do not 
 know what 'patriotism' means; I do not allow 
 that any callous parent is entitled to affection. 
 Tenderness deserves tenderness, but I cannot 
 understand why an outcast should feel more 
 sentimental about the soil of the land he was 
 born in than about the planks o^ the ship if he 
 was born in mid-ocean. You have spoken of 
 
132 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 'sympathy.' I have seen no results from it. If 
 you expect advancement from sympathy, I warn 
 you that you are putting ypur hopes into rotten 
 stock. Sympathy is the emotion that accom- 
 plishes nothing. Ambition, love, hate, jealousy, 
 greed, they all hustle, and make history; sym- 
 pathy loafs, and makes phrases. It is the weak- 
 ling of the emotional group. I say these things 
 because I wish to be sincere with you; I do not 
 propose to claim any virtues that I do not 
 possess. But, Mr. Keith, I do claim, and I have 
 the right to claim, that throughout my career I 
 have never committed a dishonourable act, never 
 wronged man, woman or child. I will illustrate ; 
 I will show you what I mean by the 'other side 
 of the game.' You shall see how a man who 
 has treated his friends and his business associates 
 with the utmost generosity may be attacked by 
 some of the men who he has served most, and 
 how these very indictments, that arouse indigna- 
 tion against him, are hatched simply to divert the 
 public's dollars into schemes more lucrative to 
 the organisers." 
 
 With a patience that was marvellous he led 
 Keith, step by step, through transactions of 
 magnitude translating, descanting, yet talking 
 with so much tact that he instructed a novice 
 with the air of confiding to a mind as astute as 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 133 
 
 his own. "Till you can crush your opponent, 
 natter him!" had been one of the maxims of his 
 life. He had matched his wits against some of 
 the keenest financial intellects of the world, and 
 emerged triumphant; but, in its way, as clever 
 a thing as he had ever done was the task of the 
 next hour, while, without a trace of weariness, he 
 reduced the intricacies of Wall Street operations 
 to terms intelligible to a schoolboy, and simul- 
 taneously invented conspiracies and figures to 
 prove his falsehoods. 
 
 And at the end, Keith looked him in the eyes 
 and said, "My wife does not touch a shilling of 
 such money, as God hears !" 
 
 The average man's self-control would have 
 snapped. Lynch desired a conversation with 
 Betty before she had been prepared for it; to 
 take offence would mean to take leave and give 
 her husband an opportunity to coach her. He 
 indulged in the faintest shrug. 
 
 "We are told, 'The truth is mighty, and will 
 prevail,' " he said pleasantly, "but there is no 
 clause re time-limit. I will illustrate further." 
 
 Only when she had come in and they were left 
 together did he permit himself the luxury of 
 vehemence. He read her mind in her first 
 evasion, and wrath and protest poured from him 
 as he paced the room. But she would not 
 
134 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 acknowledge that she was dissatisfied. She spoke 
 of Keith's devotion. She gave instances of his 
 tenderness. She boasted that she had never 
 known what it meant to ask him for money, or to 
 have an empty purse. And at the back of her 
 brain all the while was the longing for him to 
 yield, the regret at hearing that he had been 
 firm. 
 
 "Betty," said Lynch, "I have been proud of 
 you don't make me think you a fool, honey. 
 I've got a fool for a son leave me my daughter ! 
 Have I been so harsh to you that you should 
 punish me this way? Can't you feel what it'll 
 mean to me to leave you in a house like this? I 
 can't stand it. I guess a father has got rights 
 too. I loved you when you were a baby, I've 
 been tender to you all your life; what has this 
 man done, who comes around when you're a 
 woman, to wipe me out in your affections ? You 
 ain't fair with me. I can't do anything if you're 
 dogged it's waste of time my making a settle- 
 ment if you won't spend the money. It's right 
 here that you have got to put this thing through ! 
 Handle it while his love's fresh. See here, 
 women kick up a rumpus about men having too 
 much power, but I tell you this, with a lifetime 
 of experience behind me there's no power on 
 earth like a pretty woman's. Only she's like a 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 135 
 
 horse she don't know her own strength, or no 
 man could boss her. What you've got to do is 
 to tell him that it don't suit you to play at being 
 crazy any longer. The bigger his love, the safer 
 your position! He'll climb down." 
 
 "I promised him," she reiterated, "I promised 
 him before we were married. Please don't say 
 any more. It's no good. I can't do it." 
 
 "W-e-11, I am beaten! I came for nothing. 
 I guess I'll go back by the next boat. Shall I 
 see you again? Will you come and stay with me 
 till I sail?" 
 
 "I'll come, of course, but I won't stay." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "I think we understand all each other's rea- 
 sons, poppa," said Betty, smiling crookedly. "If 
 I went to stay with you, it wouldn't make this 
 look much better to me afterwards, eh?" 
 
 His purpose was detected but it was his own 
 daughter who had seen through him; Lynch 
 sighed but patted her hand with approval. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 No, she wouldn't stay at the hotel, but the 
 waiters and the table appointments were not 
 without an influence when she lunched or dined 
 there; nor was Lynch the person to accept de- 
 feat so easily as he had pretended. 
 
 He harped no more on his own feelings, nor 
 on her privations; he questioned her about 
 Keith's work: and she had never liked her father 
 so well as while he listened to her rhapsodies, 
 with an assumption of growing interest, and 
 made generous remarks about the man who, she 
 gathered, had abused him. "The Harbour of 
 Souls," she declared, would be a great picture 
 one day by far the most important thing that 
 Richard had ever done but the day was distant ; 
 naturally, he had other things to do in the mean- 
 time. It was to this that Lynch hkd been guid- 
 ing her. Wealth, he exclaimed, would have ab- 
 solved her husband from the need for doing the 
 "other things" wealth would have given his 
 genius full play. As it was well, of course, 
 marriage was bound to handicap him; he could 
 
 136 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 137 
 
 not hope to be famous so young as if he hadn't 
 a wife to support ! Even the luncheons and din- 
 ners provided opportunities, though they fell 
 short of the temptations projected. 
 
 Betty was much too acute to miss the motive 
 for such regrets she realised, directly they were 
 uttered, that she had been adroitly led to a de- 
 sired cue but, for all that, there was sufficient 
 truth in the words for them to stick. 
 
 Though Keith did his best to disguise aversion, 
 the sight of her going forth to visit her father 
 every day was far from being pleasant. He was 
 infinitely relieved one evening, when she had 
 come back, to hear that the date for Lynch's 
 departure was fixed. 
 
 "I suppose you're not sorry to hear it?" she 
 said. There was a new umbrage in her tone. 
 
 "Have I made any complaint about your go- 
 ing?" he returned, startled. 
 
 "I haven't noticed much enthusiasm." 
 
 "You can hardly expect me to be 'enthusias- 
 tic.' I shouldn't be enthusiastic about your be- 
 ing out all day, wherever you went." 
 
 She drummed her fingers on the mantelshelf: 
 "If my father came here, I shouldn't have to go 
 to him so often." 
 
 "The house is open to him, Betty." 
 
 "Well, I should hope so! if he chose to come 
 
138 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 to it after the way you received him," she said. 
 
 It was the first hint of dissension. He took 
 a turn about the room and put an arm round 
 her. 
 
 "I've been afraid of this don't let it hap- 
 pen!" 
 
 Her figure was not responsive. 
 
 "I told you the same night that I was sorry 
 I had said so much. But it had to be then, or 
 not at all." 
 
 "It might have been 'not at all.' ' 
 
 "It isn't easy to refuse to let a man do things 
 for his own child and to hold back your reason 
 for it. You told me you understood?" His 
 caress tightened. "You aren't going to be angry 
 with me?" 
 
 She uttered a little choky cry and clutched at 
 him. "We might have been so comfortable!" 
 she quavered. 
 
 His heart seemed to stand still. He had failed, 
 then! The drawing-room that he had thought 
 rather luxurious looked pathetically stupid 
 across her shoulder. There was a long pause. 
 
 She wished he would speak. She wished she 
 hadn't said it. "Oh, Dick!" 
 
 "I didn't know," said Keith drearily. "I- 
 yes, I've wondered." 
 
 "It's nothing. I didn't mean to tell you; I 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 139 
 
 meant to tell you about something quite differ- 
 ent! But Oh, you think me such a sneak, 
 don't you, after I promised?" 
 
 "I want you to tell me the truth always. Has 
 it have you been uncomfortable long?" 
 
 "It's so hard!" 
 
 "I mean, is it only since he came over? I don't 
 want to deceive myself, but has it been so hard 
 all the time?" 
 
 "Not at first I mean, not till we were here. 
 Don't think that, oh no!" 
 
 "It's this, the house? You oh, don't tremble, 
 don't be afraid! Whom should you speak to, if 
 not me? aren't we one? Why, I want to hear 
 your troubles ; it brings me closer to you to hear 
 your troubles than your pleasures. Tell me 
 everything, just as if you were thinking aloud." 
 
 "It's because I'm a fool. I don't know how to 
 manage and the servants see it. They're aw- 
 ful. They make it worse for me. I think of 
 them when I wake up, the first thing. Dick, 
 they're spoiling our home to me! I'm afraid of 
 them." 
 
 He strangled an oath. "Afraid of them? I'll 
 pitch them out of the house neck and crop to- 
 morrow morning! I'd send them off to-night if 
 it weren't too late. Why didn't you say so? why 
 
140 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 .didn't you come to me about it? My poor little 
 girl!" * 
 
 "The new ones'd be just the same. I daresay 
 they don't mean any harm it's my own fault; 
 I don't understand." She clung to him tearfully. 
 "Dickie, duckie, you know I loathe going back 
 on what I said, but don't you think we might let 
 poppa do a little for us just a little? I don't 
 ask you to take much I know you'd feel too 
 bad about it but if we had just a few thousand 
 pounds a year, it'd make everything so different. 
 It would all be lovely then! It isn't only me 
 there's you too; you'd get on so much faster. 
 You could start on your picture right away. If 
 we go on like this, I know very well that by-and- 
 by you'll be sorry you cared for me. You can't 
 succeed so soon as if you weren't married. I 
 want to be of use to you, I want to be a chum; 
 I can't be a chum if I'm a burden, and it makes 
 me feel miserable, knowing I could do so much 
 if you'd only let me. It humiliates me to think 
 I'm a drawback to my husband I never thought 
 I'd be that! Poppa likes you; he admires you 
 for your pluck in standing up to him, though he 
 says your ideas about it are quite wrong. If 
 you'd only say 'Yes,' I could tell him in the 
 morning, and he could fix it up before he goes. 
 Think what it would be! All of a sudden! In 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 141 
 
 five minutes all the horrors would be over all 
 our life would be just as beautiful as our honey- 
 moon! Just a little, Dickie what is it out of 
 all the millions? Couldn't we take just enough 
 to make things smooth?" 
 
 It was one of the moments when man strives, 
 speechless and voiceless, for words to utter his 
 very soul. What could he answer that would 
 make him seem less than brutal to her ? 
 
 "I'd do anything else on earth for you," he 
 stammered and execrated his own triteness. 
 
 To her the blow was as heavy as to him. He 
 wasn't going to yield! She had not realised till 
 now how it had supported her to believe that the 
 remedy was within her reach ; she had not meant 
 to take it, she had only glanced at it sometimes 
 for encouragement. All at once it had vanished 
 the future was bare. It was to go on like 
 this for years and years! What he was saying 
 came to her muffled. 
 
 "Don't you see that it doesn't matter whether 
 we take much or little?" he pleaded wretchedly. 
 "It's not the amount that makes it right or 
 wrong; if it were right of me to say 'Yes' to a 
 little, it would be wrong of me to draw the line 
 at all. Oh, Betty darling, you know the broken 
 lives behind this money! You know what I say 
 about it is true you've told me that you know-? 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 For God's sake, don't ask me to hold you at a 
 price like that! it would degrade us, it would 
 poison our love. Our marriage will never be a 
 drawback to me if we play the game honestly 
 you will be a help, you will be a chum, just as 
 you want to be. It's not you who've been a fool, 
 it's I I ought to be kicked for giving you house- 
 keeping to do. I ought to have remembered. I 
 hate myself for being such a blockhead !" 
 
 "Oh, nonsense," she said dismally. 
 
 "That's the only thing, isn't it? You say you 
 were happy before? If it weren't for that, you 
 wouldn't mind?" 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 "Well, we'll give the house up! We'll take a 
 flat where there's a restaurant downstairs. We 
 ought to have done it at the beginning." 
 
 "As if I'd let you be so crazy, when we've only 
 just come in!" 
 
 "It doesn't matter when we came in, I'm not 
 going to have you made miserable if I can help 
 it. Oh, kiddy, don't think me cruel to you. I 
 know it sounds the cheapest thing in the world 
 to say I'd do anything excepting what you ask, 
 but I can't do that I can't, I can't! I'll take 
 you out of the house to-morrow; you shan't 
 spend another day in it. We'll go to an hotel 
 till we've found what we want and we'll go to 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 a nice one. Curse the servants! When I think 
 what you've been going through while I was 
 imagining I had done all I could to make you 
 
 happy, I 'Afraid of them'!" Pain and rage 
 
 mastered him. He flung to the electric button, 
 and was sorry that it wasn't a bell-handle that 
 he could wrench. 
 
 "What are you going to do?" 
 
 "I'm going to give them notice!" 
 
 "They can't go now." 
 
 "I can give them notice now, though! What 
 do you suppose I'm made of? Do you suppose 
 I'm made of bricks-and-mortar, that I can bear 
 to see you cry and have to look like a tyrant, 
 and know that it all comes from those ?" 
 
 "Dick!" she said urgently, "Dick, don't! 
 They've never been rude, never. Please! Don't 
 make a fuss to-night!" 
 
 He sat down, trembling. 
 
 The housemaid opened the door: "Yes'm?" 
 
 "You've forgotten the syphon," said Betty. 
 
 "It's on the little table 'm." 
 
 "Oh, is it? I didn't notice. Very well." 
 
 She had no passion for money as the senten- 
 tious knight, and his wife, who doled out the 
 sugar, had a passion for it; she did not worship 
 money for money's sake. Measured by the pro- 
 fusion that she had been taught to take for 
 
144 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 granted, her requirements had, indeed, been re- 
 duced to the point of heroism she asked only 
 for peace. The prospect of being relieved from 
 the housekeeping had lightened her mood almost 
 as much as if he had consented to her appeal. 
 Laughter quivered in her voice now, though it 
 was more than a shade hysterical. 
 
 "She little knows what I've saved her from!" 
 
 Keith could not laugh yet. 
 
 She knelt on a pouf beside him: "You'll make 
 me sorry I told you." 
 
 "You aren't to say that! I'm thankful I've 
 never been more thankful for anything in my 
 life. It isn't your telling me that upsets me, it's 
 my own idiocy in needing to be told. You don't 
 know how bitter it is to a man, when he loves a 
 woman, to hear she has had a big trouble that he 
 didn't see. Well, I'll try to make up to you for 
 it! You won't have to think of the servants 
 when you wake to-morrow, kiddy." 
 
 "You really mean it? I feel awful selfish. I 
 do, I feel a monster!" 
 
 "Where's your face, monster? Don't keep it 
 such a long way off." 
 
 "A flat will cost ever so much more, you know 
 it will," she purred, nestling to him. "With a 
 restaurant downstairs, it'll be perfectly ruinous 
 to you. And where will you work?" 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 145 
 
 "I'll work in my old studio it's lucky I've 
 still got it." 
 
 "That'll be two rents, then. Besides this one! 
 We won't be able to get rid of it in a hurry, you 
 may be sure. And think of the money it has cost 
 look at the windows, and the wall-papers. Oh, 
 it's wicked!" She sprang up resolutely. "No, 
 we can't do it. I mean it. I won't do it!" She 
 was quite sincere, she didn't mean to do it. 
 
 "Of course the wall-papers must be considered 
 before you," said Keith; "what else are wall- 
 papers made for? Do you mind bringing that 
 cheek back I'm taking a chill. ... Do you 
 know is that right, are you comfortable? do 
 you know, I'm not sorry to get out of this! I'm 
 not, upon my word!" he went on, with rising 
 spirits. "There's something rather depressing 
 about it, I think perhaps it's a gravel soil." 
 
 "What does that do?" 
 
 "I don't know exactly, but I know it isn't 
 right. Or perhaps it's a clay soil that isn't right 
 I know when people take a house there's some 
 sort of soil they don't want. A flat will be ever 
 so much cosier much better for me, too. I hate 
 the tradesmen banging at the side door all the 
 morning; and the woman opposite is such an 
 object." 
 
 "She doesn't interfere with us, does she?" 
 
146 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 "I don't like her profile ; it infuriates me. I'm 
 glad we're going, for lots of reasons." 
 
 "I'd sing for joy, if I didn't feel so mean. 
 Lucky thing for you I feel mean !" 
 
 "If you talk any more nonsense about feeling 
 'mean,' I'll shake you. Are you going to be 
 good?" 
 
 "Mmps." 
 
 "Well, then, let's decide everything. Now I 
 
 come to think of it Why do you always push 
 
 my hair backwards?" 
 
 "I d'n' know I like it. Don't be so vain! 
 Well? Now you come to think of it?" 
 
 "Now I come to think of it, I believe flats of 
 that kind are always let furnished. I'm not sure 
 if you can get an unfurnished flat with cater- 
 ing." 
 
 "What's to become of our furniture, then?" 
 
 "We might give it to the servants, as a token 
 of appreciation." 
 
 "No, but really?" 
 
 "Well, I suppose we'd better sell it. Tread 
 on the carpet lightly and keep it new! By Jove, 
 an auction '11 put us in funds again we'll go 
 out to dinner on the strength of it!" 
 
 "We might find an unfurnished flat, mightn't 
 we?" said Betty. 
 
 "We might." He pondered. "But there'd 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 147 
 
 be no use for the stair-carpets, anyhow. Nor the 
 rods." 
 
 "No." She also reflected. "And the Bat 
 wouldn't be as big as the house we couldn't get 
 all the things into it." 
 
 "I hadn't thought of that. Well, it's all the 
 more reason why we should sell them it's no 
 good storing them for years. Besides, when we 
 take a house again, they'd be lost in it." 
 
 "Buckingham Palace?" 
 
 "No, it's too near the railway line we'll want 
 something select. We'll do it properly next time 
 servants that know their business. I hope the 
 flat won't be too poky, though!" 
 
 "It can be as poky as it likes, we don't want 
 to play hide-and-seek. It doesn't matter how 
 small it is, if you have your studio outside. All 
 we need is - It oughtn't to cost so much more, 
 after all, ought it?" 
 
 "I should think we could go West for about 
 the same rent. If we only need a drawing-room 
 and a bedroom " 
 
 "It it'll have to be more than that," she mur- 
 mured. 
 
 "We shall take our meals in the restaurant, 
 you know." 
 
 "Still we'll want a third room " 
 
148 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 "For our luggage?" 
 
 "No." She slipped a little closer, and her eyes 
 were hidden from him. "We'll want a third 
 room, Dickie for someone else by-and-by." 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 REALISING the vision in the cardboard house, 
 the morning sun shone on her face between the 
 draperies when she woke, but Keith was too busy 
 packing to appreciate that gleam of irony. 
 
 "If we make haste, we can be out of the place 
 and comfortably settled at the hotel before 
 luncheon," he explained. 
 
 She contemplated the confusion with her arms 
 round his neck. Among her charms was the one 
 that no beauty specialist undertakes to restore 
 with a "remarkable preparation" the charm of 
 waking up lovely. 
 
 "It looks as if it had been raining shirts," she 
 pouted. 
 
 "You should have seen it five minutes ago!" 
 
 "Do you think we ought to rush it so, really? 
 Don't you think if we went to-morrow in- 
 stead- 
 
 "I'll help you with your things; that's why 
 I wanted to get mine done early. I hope I didn't 
 make a noise ? No, I don't want you to have an- 
 other day here ; I want to whisk you right out of 
 
 149 
 
150 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 it. Let's make a dash and get it over! I'll go 
 round to the agent's directly after breakfast." 
 
 "Hark at my American husband! All right, 
 we needn't take a heap we can come back and 
 finish ?" 
 
 "I can. You take all your clothes now; you 
 don't cross the door-mat again !" He returned to 
 the litter, and wrestled with a portmanteau that 
 wouldn't fasten. "Do you know, I've been 
 thinking we had better let the servants stop, after 
 all; if we leave the house empty, we'll have a 
 burglary, and we aren't insured. I can give 
 them notice, just the same, and tell them why!" 
 
 "If you give them notice, it's likely to be 
 empty anyhow sometimes they'll do as they 
 please, with us away." 
 
 "That's true." 
 
 "I think it'd be best to part amiably with them, 
 and let them imagine we're going for a few days ; 
 if they don't know when to expect us back, they'll 
 have to be careful." 
 
 "Upon my word, they're triumphant to the 
 last!" He threw the portmanteau viciously. 
 "They're driving us out, and we've got to grin 
 at them when we go. As a matter of fact, you 
 know, I suppose there are things to be done in 
 such cases, but it's a mystery how people learn 
 them; there ought to be a book published on the 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 151 
 
 subject, 'First Steps to Getting Even with your 
 Servants.' . . . It's these boots that prevent my 
 shutting it! It's a marvellous thing, I haven't 
 got any clothes, and two trunks aren't big 
 enough to hold them. Very well, just as you 
 like. We'll take it smiling, and " 
 
 "Battle with the baggage bravely!" she said. 
 "Fix your gaze on the hotel, weary one it'll be 
 very restful and expensive." 
 
 It was a long while before the moment was 
 reached, but when the last strap had been 
 buckled, and the last "mate" had mopped his 
 brow after lifting a bonnet-box, they recovered 
 something of the honeymoon spirit, as they were 
 rattled towards Kensington in a decrepit four- 
 wheeler. And the hotel looked a haven of re- 
 pose, as she had predicted; and Keith, who felt 
 that his plan had been masterly and his execu- 
 tion brilliant, was a lively companion till he in- 
 sisted on ringing for somebody to remove two 
 prints from the bedroom walls. 
 
 "But they're by Landseer," expostulated 
 Betty; "the people will think we're crazy." 
 
 "Let them think! Never be dazzled by names. 
 These things aren't pictures, they're brutalities. 
 Look at 'Waiting for the Deer to Rise.' Ruffians 
 crouching to destroy a splendid animal! Is there 
 anything beautiful in that? We won't ask if it's 
 
152 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 'ennobling/ but is there a gleam of beauty in it? 
 Now look at 'How to get the Deer Home' ; that's 
 worse art still. The composition is all subordi- 
 nated to the tortured face of the animal in its 
 death agonies. The subjects are revolting. An 
 artist would never have touched them." 
 
 "Yes," she said, "I see it now. I hadn't 
 thought of it like that." 
 
 So the prints in their maple frames were 
 banished, and the hotel manager was much 
 diverted privately by "these visitors' ignorance, 
 in objecting to pictures which, if they had only 
 noticed it, were by Landseer!" 
 
 They gave themselves a short holiday. Then 
 they went out to conquer, and came back to 
 quail. In the morning they discovered that they 
 could not "go West for about the same rent"; 
 and in the afternoon they learnt that they 
 could not go to Clement's Inn either, nor even 
 to Maida Vale. By the following night they 
 had serious doubts whether they would be afcle 
 to go anywhere, for every microscopic and 
 exorbitant flat that they viewed addressed itself 
 to bachelors only. The quest extended to strange 
 districts, and it was revealed to the innocents 
 that the modern landlord, with a house that 
 would be difficult to let at a hundred a year, calls 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 153 
 
 each of its stories a "flat," and lets it at three 
 hundred and fifty instead. 
 
 "The dazzle of the name," said Keith, "there 
 we have it again! Shakespeare didn't say 
 'What's in a name?' as a writing-man, he saw 
 the value of a name thoroughly. The bosh was 
 Juliet's, who saw nothing but Romeo." 
 
 "Oh, don't improve the occasion," said Betty, 
 "my shoes are pinching. It seems to me we 
 might as well ask for a brace of dodos. By 
 rights, we ought to give the idea up." 
 
 He knew that as well as she. If they had 
 been practical they would have searched for bet- 
 ter servants, and returned to Sibella Road. But 
 he loved her marriage had deepened the man's 
 feelings, too so he only put her into a cab, and 
 said, "Well, after all, in a flat there are no rates 
 and taxes to pay!" 
 
 It is a fatal phrase. 
 
 And there was the determining influence of 
 the "party." Scarcely a fortnight had gone by 
 when the agent in St. John's Wood wrote that 
 the villa could be sub-let to a "party" who was 
 not unwilling to acquire all the new furniture for 
 considerably less than it had cost. 
 
 "It seems too lucky to be true!" cried Betty 
 joyously. 
 
 It wasn't. 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 Opulent from the sale of the furniture, Keith 
 heard flat rents with fortitude. 
 
 They succumbed to Telemachus Mansions. 
 
 Telemachus Mansions were squeezed into a 
 back street near the hotel, and were accordingly 
 boastful of being Kensington, They boasted 
 also that the tenants "enjoyed the benefits per- 
 taining to a perfectly appointed home, without 
 the vexations of housekeeping." The rooms had 
 not been constructed to hold many things, but 
 that was all the better for the bank balance ; nor 
 was there a restaurant, as expected; but "meals 
 prepared under the personal superintendence of 
 a skilled chef, and served in the residents' own 
 suites," sounded even pleasanter. There were a 
 liveried porter, and a languid lift. The rent was 
 a hundred and fifty pounds per annum; the 
 weekly charge for domestic service, a half- 
 guinea per head; and the cheapest meal, a half- 
 crown per mouth excepting a cup of tea, with 
 bread-and-butter, in the afternoon, which was 
 offered recklessly for ninepence. 
 
 They moved in towards the close of Septem- 
 ber, and their first evening in the Mansions was 
 less romantic than their first evening in the villa. 
 It had not been thrilling to Keith to see her open 
 a wardrobe in a shop this time. On the contrary, 
 the whole experience had been very tiring, and 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 156 
 
 it seemed to him that his work had been at a 
 standstill ever since his marriage. Nevertheless, 
 they were cheerful enough, though the dinner of 
 the "personal superintendence" was tepid, and a 
 fire would have been more exhilarating than a 
 stove ornament. 
 
 At nine o'clock next morning he strode out to 
 the studio near the Foundling, and she was not 
 to expect him back till dusk. Never had a 
 woman sworn more loyally to see only the bright 
 side of things. She played the piano and chose 
 her liveliest music to help her to feel that she 
 was in high spirits. She gazed out of the narrow 
 window, and tried to believe that the mean view 
 was interesting. After the Swiss youth brought 
 in a lukewarm luncheon, she flavoured it by dwell- 
 ing on the luncheons in Sibella Road. When 
 tedium drove her out into a drizzle, she reminded 
 herself that the walk wasn't aimless, because 
 there was a ton of coal to be ordered. Her in- 
 tentions were excellent. 
 
 And time, and acquaintances, helped her. 
 Hitherto she had met but few of her husband's 
 friends, and seen nothing of the women who, he 
 had once told her, arrived with their babies and 
 put them to sleep on the host's bed. Now the 
 social circle began to widen. There were paint- 
 ers a good many painters and an author or 
 
156 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 two, and an actor and his wife. On the whole, an 
 interesting set, as their different languages be- 
 came intelligible to her. In October the actor's 
 wife was jubilant because "Peter" whose 
 Christian name on the programmes was "Pel- 
 ham" had been engaged to support Cornelia 
 Warwick in Fedora. And in November she was 
 angry with him because he had been dismissed. 
 She explained the incident one evening at a gath- 
 ering in Chelsea. 
 
 "He used to dig his knuckles into her skinny 
 chest and batter her on the sofa till she came 
 off crying every night. She showed him her 
 bruises and begged him to take care. 'Realistic 
 scene,' he said; 'can't spoil it!' The woman was 
 black and blue of course she gave him his 
 notice." 
 
 "How unintelligent of her," murmured 
 Tracey Wynne. "More earnestness is what we 
 need in our actors. On the stage, artistic 
 ideals " 
 
 "Artistic ideals anywhere are like measles 
 if you don't get them over while you're young, 
 you're likely to find them serious," interrupted 
 a journalist. "The road to Rowton House is 
 paved with artistic ideals." 
 
 "I don't want to turn your head, but some- 
 times I read you," said Keith; "and you wrote 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 157 
 
 lately that we had 'too many idealists, and too 
 few ideals.' ' 
 
 "My dear fellow, a journalist's daily necessity 
 for making new comments on old subjects forces 
 many a clever man to write stupid things." 
 
 "Well, he ought to suffer for them," said 
 Wynne. 
 
 "So he does he sees them quoted under 
 'Watchwords of Wisdom' and shivers with 
 shame." 
 
 "Talking of stupidity and the stage," re- 
 marked Premlow, "I met an actress in Bond 
 Street the other day 
 
 "Where's Bond Street?" asked Betty. "We 
 are humble." 
 
 The journalist laughed, and Keith glanced at 
 her proudly. 
 
 "Bond Street," said Wynne, "is where am- 
 bitious souls like Premlow promenade, in the 
 hope of being mentioned among 'well-known 
 people to be seen yesterday.' Go on with the 
 story, Premmy you're a long while coming to 
 the point." 
 
 "Shut up ! Well, as I was talking to her, Vis- 
 count Armoury passed " 
 
 "The aristocracy do pet you, Premlow!" 
 
 "No, but really, listen to this! I don't know 
 if you've seen him? he'd be a first-rate model 
 
158 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 for a groom. I said to her, 'He doesn't look 
 much like a viscount, does he?' She affected a 
 superior smile at my naivete, and drawled, 'It 
 depends what you expect a viscount to look like!' 
 It's even betting which of us considers the other 
 the bigger fool now each of us is going about 
 London thinking that the other has said the 
 silliest thing on record." 
 
 Yes, the acquaintances were helpful for a time. 
 But very soon she was unwilling to visit or re- 
 ceive ; and, boxed in the three-roomed flat during 
 the long days while Keith was away, she was 
 very dull indeed. Often he took her to the 
 studio, and in a basket-chair by the fire she was 
 fascinated when effects on the canvas leapt into 
 life, under apparently random dabs. As she 
 watched him, alternately retreating and advanc- 
 ing, laying on the pigments with an air of 
 absorption and seemingly erratic brushes, she 
 was reminded once of the picture-bricks of her 
 childhood a dab could look so meaningless, 
 and, with the next, could mean so much. Yet 
 instinct, rather than any words from him, told 
 her that his heart wasn't in this work, and there 
 were half-hours when she led him to talk of 
 "The Harbour of Souls" and, indeed, caught 
 much of his feeling for it. Love cannot make an 
 artist, but already love had lifted this clever girl 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 159 
 
 above her earlier standpoint of mentor. She no 
 longer counselled him to be "smart"; she had 
 begun to understand that he was to be great. 
 Sitting there by the fire, as he painted the kind 
 of thing that went off best, she often secretly 
 reproached herself for their increased expendi- 
 ture. 
 
 For life in Telemachus Mansions was proving 
 very dear. It had transpired also that "domestic 
 service" did not include attention to "brass, sil- 
 ver, china," and various other articles. In fact, 
 the list of things that the staff repudiated had 
 been so long that, at the first glance, Keith 
 wondered what remained for them to clean. 
 Originally he had arranged for a charwoman to 
 come in once a week, but the flat had accumu- 
 lated so much dirt under the perfunctory flick- 
 ings of "domestic service," that soon the ar- 
 rangement was extended to an hour every morn- 
 ing. Like most charwomen, she had "known 
 better days," and on the mornings when Betty 
 stayed at home, little Mrs. Mills leant on the 
 broom conversationally and narrated her misfor- 
 tunes, which had been chiefly matrimonial, and 
 partly alcoholic. 
 
 She was no saint in tatters, but she was an old 
 and fairly honest drudge, and, far as she was 
 from guessing it, she imparted educative details 
 
160 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 which were worth the numerous half-crowns 
 that Betty slipped into the scarred hands. The 
 disciple in the art of painting remained a laggard 
 in the science of economy, despite her self-re- 
 proaches. Betty was always making beautiful 
 resolutions, and always tipping with two half- 
 crowns where other people tipped with twopence. 
 The bent charwoman revealed to the daughter 
 of the millionaire the world of humble hopes. 
 Her confidences unroofed slums, and through 
 the rags of the poor, the girl had glimpses of the 
 humanity and motherhood beneath. 
 
 Towards Christmas, she heard from Mrs. 
 Waldehast that Howard had "given everyone a 
 scare, but was convalescent now." She was 
 shocked to read that the scare had been caused 
 by the rupture of a blood-vessel. However, 
 there was no reason to be anxious, she was told : 
 "It was probably the best thing that could have 
 happened, for he had been scared himself, and 
 would doubtless live more steadily in con- 
 sequence." 
 
 She wrote an urgent letter to him, and an 
 anxious one to her father, by the next mail. 
 
 At the narrow window she used to sit thinking 
 of what was to come, and watching the snow 
 flutter. She spent many hours thinking. The 
 novels from Mudie's lay neglected; under the 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 161 
 
 loudening call of life, she cared less for books. 
 So the new year opened, and the months passed 
 Keith painting unworthy pictures worthily, to 
 buy peace for his wife; and the girl rearing 
 castles in the air for the wonder-child who was 
 to call her "Mother." 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE wonder-child lay forgotten in the fender, 
 for the mother claimed all thoughts. Presently 
 she whimpered, "Where's my baby?" and 
 someone turned from her to pick it up. "Now 
 would you like a little son, or a little daughter?" 
 she was asked jocosely. And she quavered, 
 "I don't mind," for fear of hurting the baby's 
 feelings. "It's a boy," they told her; and she 
 was glad. 
 
 At last, when they came to him, Keith's 
 mouth would make no sound; they replied to 
 the torture in his eyes. He dropped a touch 
 upon the living bundle his Universe was be- 
 yond the door. 
 
 "You mustn't agitate her, remember!" 
 
 He was gulping, and shuddering, but nodded 
 sagely. His mind had foreseen her radiant with 
 relief. Her face lay on the pillow like a tired 
 flower. 
 
 "Dickie!" she bleated. 
 
 In this wise, Richard the Second was born to 
 his kingdom of the third room. 
 
 162 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 AND when she was well and saw him in it, her 
 motherhood protested. She had hoped for it 
 to look pretty, and she found it piteous. Her 
 extravagance had run riot in the paraphernalia 
 of infancy; but the nurse's box encroached on 
 the doorway, her garments bulged from the walls 
 the child was cradled in a cloak-room I 
 
 Betty recalled her own nurseries, and resented 
 her babe's. 
 
 "Don't you think we might have some of those 
 things put away, nurse?" she inquired once. The 
 nurse was an efficient and dignified person, 
 whose wages were thirty pounds a year, anH 
 Betty inquired respectfully. 
 
 "Well, ma'am, I'm sure I've done my best. 
 The chest of drawers won't hold everything, and 
 there isn't a wardrobe." 
 
 And there was no space for a wardrobe. 
 
 "I know; of course a flat is very inconvenient." 
 
 "I suppose you'll be moving before long, 
 ma'am?" It was less a question than a mandate. 
 
 163 
 
164 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 "It'd never do to keep the poor little mite 'ere 
 for good." 
 
 "You think it wouldn't?" murmured Betty. 
 
 "Well, you see what it is for yourself, ma'am 
 there's nowhere to put a thing down. What 
 he'd do when he began to crawl, I'm sure I don't 
 know! I haven't liked to speak, but, as I said 
 when I came, I've always been used to my two 
 nurseries and an under-nurse. If I'd known 
 what a muddle it was to be, I don't think I should 
 'ave cared to take the place." 
 
 For an indignant moment Betty turned to 
 tell her that she needn't stay in it. But Baby 
 was so safe with her! had not the omniscient 
 "Monthly" herself pronounced her competent? 
 What would befall him if she left? 
 
 "We must try to make the best of it for a little 
 while," she answered meekly. 
 
 There were many opportunities for her meek- 
 ness. The "domestic service" of Telemachus 
 Mansions appeared incapable of rising to a 
 nurse's presence, and certainly it did not rise to 
 her bell. She who had been used to an under- 
 nurse to do her bidding remained with her august 
 thumb on the button unheeded. The father, be- 
 ing away all day, escaped most of her grievances, 
 though he heard enough to exasperate him, but 
 the mother had to listen to them all. There are 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 165 
 
 no ranker snobs than servants, and the superior 
 references to "Clarence Gate, where, of course, 
 it was all so different and no expense was 
 spared!" were galling to Betty Keith, nee Lynch. 
 
 So was the woman's important demeanour. 
 As she rose when Betty entered, her bearing 
 intimated that to enter was to intrude. "This 
 really isn't the thing!" was stamped on her ex- 
 pression. The very attitude in which she waited 
 implied forbearance, and in the nursery Betty 
 was made to feel less a mother than a visitor. 
 
 There was even an afternoon when she was 
 reproved. Nurse remarked severely, "I'm afraid 
 Baby's not dressed as you would have liked to 
 see 'im, ma'am. Everywhere else the lady has 
 always sent for the baby to be taken to the draw- 
 ing-room." 
 
 "Well, I don't come to see his frocks," said 
 Betty. 
 
 "No'm. Everywhere else the lady has knocked 
 at the door before she came in." 
 
 "I knock too in the morning and at night I 
 knock before I come into your bedroom. But in 
 the daytime this is the nursery." 
 
 "I've always been used to my ladies knocking 
 at the night-nursery and day -nursery as well. 
 In Clarence Gate it was always done. Nobody 
 has ever walked in before. While we're on the 
 
166 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 subject, I may say I 'ave never had a lady want 
 to see the baby quite so often as you do, ma'am. 
 As you know, I 'ave always taken my babies 
 from the month I am a sole-charge nurse, I 
 know my duties, I'm used to being trusted." 
 
 Again, what would befall him if she left? The 
 girl drew a deep breath. 
 
 "It isn't that I don't trust you, nurse," she 
 said. "I should like you to understand that I 
 trust you very much or you wouldn't be here. 
 But I don't knock at my nursery door, and I see 
 my child just as often as I please. I am not 
 interested to hear about the customs of other 
 mothers." 
 
 She bent over the cot. Would the "notice" 
 crash? 
 
 Nurse mumbled, and moved to the washhand- 
 stand. After this there was more tolerance in 
 her manner, though her dignity was still im- 
 pressive. 
 
 Meanwhile, the man was not without his own 
 troubles. In his bank-book the word "Cash" no 
 longer figured, and the numerous entries were all 
 on the wrong side. 
 
 The theory has been advanced that artists 
 should be poor, to yield the utmost from their 
 talent. It is also recommended that geese be 
 roasted alive to enlarge their livers for your 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 167 
 
 pate. Keith's experiences did nothing to sup- 
 port the amiable theory. Pecuniary cares neither 
 improved his quality nor accelerated his speed, 
 though a list of sending-in days was scrawled 
 over the mantelpiece for a motto. Out of the 
 studio he would tell himself that, to paint reck- 
 lessly, only will power was essential and out of 
 the studio he would register oaths to do it; but 
 the following day would again see him oblitera- 
 ting the work of the day before plodding with 
 conscientious and uninspired touches. 
 
 When he came home disgusted with himself 
 one evening Betty said: 
 
 "Dick, I've something to ask you: I want you 
 to paint a portrait of Baby." 
 
 "A portrait of Baby? Yes, I've nothing else 
 to do!' ? 
 
 "It wouldn't take you long." 
 
 "I'm too hard pressed just now. Besides, 
 there's nothing to paint." 
 
 "Nothing to paint?" she exclaimed. 
 
 "It's all clothes." 
 
 "I guess / could find something to paint," she 
 said reproachfully. "He's got the sweetest smile 
 I ever saw, and the way his little hands droop is 
 just perfect. Did you ever see eyes like his in a 
 baby before ?" 
 
 "Oh, it's a dear little soul don't imagine I'm 
 
168 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 running it down. I had no idea I could get so 
 fond of a baby; I always thought a child only 
 began to be human when it was two or three 
 years old. But I can't paint it yet, really!" 
 
 "All right," she returned crossly. "I'll have 
 him done at a photographer's instead. It's 
 rather a funny thing, I must say, when his 
 father's an artist I" 
 
 But in most cases their views about the 
 younger Richard who had been christened with 
 due pomp were identical. Once when he lay 
 on her lap Keith announced his intention of giv- 
 ing him boxing lessons before he was sent to 
 school. 
 
 "I shan't let him go till he has learnt," he said; 
 "then I'll be sure he won't be bullied by young 
 ruffians twice his size. Every boy ought to be 
 taught before he's sent." 
 
 "Were you?" 
 
 "No, afterwards. That's what makes me keen 
 on it ; he shall have the benefit of my experience. 
 If he knows how to defend himself, there'll be 
 no need for him to do it more than once." 
 
 "I wouldn't like him taught by a stranger, 
 though," she said; "a boxing-master would be 
 too rough." 
 
 "As a matter of fact, they aren't rough the 
 best men." 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 169 
 
 "Well, but for such a little chap- 
 
 "Oh, of course, I shall teach him myself; I'd 
 like to! I'll get him a little pair of gloves, and a 
 little suit of flannels 
 
 "Oh, won't he look like a duck in flannels!" 
 cried Betty. 
 
 "And take him for half an hour every morn- 
 ing ! There's no occasion for him to learn a great 
 deal, either; a good lead-off and a quick guard 
 are about all he wants to hold his own." 
 
 At this point the future pugilist whined for 
 his "soother," and Betty, popping the india-rub- 
 ber into his mouth, cooed to him the strange lan- 
 guage in which she had become so suddenly pro- 
 ficient. 
 
 "I wonder if it understands anything of what 
 you mean?" said Keith, regarding them thought- 
 fully. 
 
 "Mmps!" affirmed Betty. "Of course he un- 
 derstands. I3id his father ask such things about 
 him, then, a blessing? And his liddley toofy- 
 pegs hurting all-a-time! There-then-there! Did- 
 ums-was?" She swayed gently, with her baby 
 on her bosom. "Cuddley up, and coosha-bye!" 
 
 The balance at the bank continued to dwindle, 
 and, with it, Keith's store of cheerfulness. In 
 Kensington Gardens the perambulators were 
 fewer now already many children of more 
 
170 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 prosperous fathers had been taken to the sea. 
 The desirability of the third room was not in- 
 creased by the summer heat, and there was an 
 evening when Betty referred to their own de- 
 parture. 
 
 "When do you think we might take Baby 
 away?" she inquired. "It's not doing him any 
 good to be in London this weather." 
 
 Keith knocked out the ashes from his pipe be- 
 fore he answered. 
 
 "I'm afraid we shall have to wait a bit," he 
 said. 
 
 The average woman might .have asked 
 "Why?" Betty's apprehension was too quick 
 for that ; but the average woman would have been 
 much less shocked. Mercilessly as the sense of 
 poverty had pricked since the child's birth, this 
 was its first thrust. The f aintness of horror was 
 on her as she sat realising that they were too 
 hard up to afford a change of air. 
 
 "I didn't know," she stammered. "Yes, of 
 course, we can go later on." 
 
 "I'm awfully sorry; we shall be out of the 
 corner soon. I shouldn't have mentioned it if 
 you hadn't spoken of the seaside. It's only 
 temporary." 
 
 "How poor are we?" 
 
 "Oh, there's nothing for you to look so anxious 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 171 
 
 about! I'm bound to sell something directly. As 
 soon as I get a cheque, you can go." 
 
 "Won't you go too?" 
 
 "I don't know about that; I can't spare the 
 time." 
 
 "Well, but I hadn't any idea, I don't under- 
 stand. What has happened, what's the reason 
 of it all?" 
 
 "The reason? The reason is I'm not making 
 enough money." 
 
 "But - Have we been spending too much?" 
 
 Keith shrugged his shoulders. "I suppose 
 that's what it amounts to. It's not your fault; 
 things have got to be paid for; but everything 
 here costs three times what it's worth. Even 
 when one sells a picture one doesn't see anything 
 out of it." 
 
 He refilled the pipe, and for nearly a minute 
 there was no sound but the rumble on the road. 
 At last she said drearily, "There doesn't seem 
 much to look forward to!" 
 
 "Oh, I daresay it'll be all right," he sighed. 
 
 But she had uttered his own opinion. For a 
 long while he had felt that there wasn't much to 
 look forward to. Unless they got rid of the flat, 
 and led the life primitive in Cornwall which 
 was out of the question for her the best that 
 
172 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 he could expect was to potboil adequately. 
 Time for good work there would never be! 
 
 The temperature of the third room grew more 
 oppressive, and in Kensington Gardens the chil- 
 dren played with spades and pails souvenirs of 
 the sands. As she took her daily walk under the 
 dusty trees, Betty noted them; but she spoke 
 no more of leaving town. 
 
 From New York came the tidings that How- 
 ard had been induced to submit himself to a 
 sanatorium in Colorado. She heard that he had 
 really begun to take an interest in his condition, 
 so the news must not be considered bad. On the 
 contrary, the physicians all said that six months 
 of the air, diet, and early hours would effect a 
 cure. The letter was nevertheless startling, for it 
 implied that his present condition was much less 
 satisfactory than she had understood. 
 
 In the heat, the nurse's grievances against the 
 staff developed, and at last it was necessary to 
 call Keith's attention to the matter again. 
 
 "Oh, send her away!" he cried, for he was 
 tired of remonstrating downstairs. "There are 
 plenty of other nurses to be got." 
 
 "Not such good ones, though," objected 
 Betty. "Besides, it's no fault of hers, you know 
 that." 
 
 "Well, my dear, I can't go down to the kitchen 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 173 
 
 to cook her dimmer, and I can't stay at home to 
 run to her bell. I don't understand why she 
 needs to keep ringing it; it's she who's engaged 
 to look after the baby the waiters aren't!" 
 
 "Oh, don't talk foolishness!" exclaimed Betty 
 angrily. "I've been there myself when she has 
 rung for the bath, and nobody has come for half 
 an hour. She's obliged to ring for something or 
 other twenty times a day." 
 
 "It's not surprising they're sick of coming up, 
 then; we can't monopolise the staff we've only 
 one flat!" 
 
 "'Flat'!" 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "Oh!" The gesture with which she turned 
 from him was intolerant. 
 
 "So the flat isn't good enough? Is that what 
 it means?" 
 
 "Have I ever said so?" 
 
 "It sounded like it just now." His voice 
 quivered under the restraint that he was putting 
 on it. 
 
 "And if it did? That wouldn't be surprising 
 either! Don't make any mistake, Dick I don't 
 shut my eyes because I hold my tongue. If you 
 were in that cupboard that's called a 'nursery' 
 a little oftener, you'd know what it was like to 
 live in it." 
 
174 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 "If I'm not there oftener, it's because I'm 
 working to pay the rent!" He walked up and 
 down, trembling. "This is all that woman!" he 
 broke out vehemently. "I wish we had never 
 seen her. I won't have her here she shan't 
 stop." 
 
 "Oh yes, she shall," said Betty. "Baby can't 
 do without her." 
 
 "I say she shan't! She's a firebrand, she's a 
 curse. I've heard nothing but her complaints 
 from the day she came." 
 
 "You have heard? You haven't heard half." 
 
 "I never come back to the place without hear- 
 ing that nurse wants something altered, or 
 something dear, or something impossible. As I 
 cross the threshold, it's my greeting." 
 
 "That's a wicked lie." ' 
 
 "I breathe complaints ! I get up to them, and 
 take them to the studio with me, and come home 
 to more. My head swirls with complaints. I've 
 myself to consider too; I've my work to think 
 about. The situation's not luxurious enough for 
 her? Very well, then, she can leave it. Are we 
 to be brought to ruin because nurse gets her din- 
 ner late? To-morrow she can dine when she 
 likes it won't be here. I'm going to tell her 
 so now!" 
 
 "You won't!" declared Betty. "Don't do it, 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 175 
 
 because you'll have to take it back! I won't have 
 her dismissed I refuse to put Baby in the hands 
 of a stranger. It's bad enough for him as it is, 
 Heaven knows, without risking his life." 
 
 "Risking his life! Don't you suppose I love 
 the baby as much as you do? he means a great 
 deal more to me than you know. ... I'm sorry 
 for what I said just now that was an exaggera- 
 tion." 
 
 "Exaggeration? Exaggeration is a very deli- 
 cate name for it." 
 
 "Well, you were less delicate yourself." 
 
 "I said just the truth I have kept a hundred 
 worries from you; there have been a hundred 
 worries for me that you. have never dreamt of. 
 And to tell me that I have greeted you with com- 
 plaints every evening is an infamous thing." 
 
 "I've told you I'm sorry. Besides, I didn't 
 say they were your own complaints. I know 
 very well, if you're being badgered to death, 
 you've got to speak of it to me. Of course you 
 have. I hope you always will I don't want you 
 to keep it to yourself and feel that you've nobody 
 to talk to. I only say that it gets in the way of 
 the work. I can't paint when my brain's full of 
 bells, and baths, and nurses. I don't see why 
 either of us should go on being bothered by her; 
 I don't see any reason for us to put up with it.'* 
 
176 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 "Baby's the reason. Think how difficult it 
 was to get any one we could feel confidence in, 
 think of the objects that came creatures with 
 stutters and squints. To be with baby he'd 
 have grown up a freak!" 
 
 "I suppose they weren't all physically 
 afflicted?" 
 
 "They were all hopeless all that I saw. If 
 they had their faculties, they hadn't any charac- 
 ters worth mentioning. I could have gone down 
 on my knees with gratitude when we got this 
 woman I'd put up with anything rather than 
 lose her." 
 
 "Oh, well, keep her, by all means! I'll see 
 what can be done. It doesn't seem as if bullying 
 them will do any good. I had better try more 
 tips." 
 
 "She cbmes expensive, I know," said Betty 
 pacifically. 
 
 "Oh, I daresay another three or four bob a 
 week will settle it," he returned. And their dif- 
 ference was mutually ignored. 
 
 But hitherto, after a difference, they had al- 
 ways "made it up" frankly, and kissed. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 HE received a cheque soon afterwards for a 
 small work that had been exhibited at the New 
 Gallery but the price was only forty guineas, 
 and the bank-book told such a sensational story 
 that the visit to the sea was none the nearer. At 
 last he was fainting with slovenly speed, paint- 
 ing with his teeth clenched, and Vivard, Kluht, 
 Ellsworthy and the rest of them, saw him often 
 during the weeks that followed. Betty's hundred 
 a year was no appreciable aid to his income. He 
 had to be ready for two rentals, accounts for 
 catering, charges* for attendance, and the date 
 for the nurse's wages, to say nothing of inciden- 
 tal expenses. The liabilities fell dizzyingly, and 
 as he ran about London, trying to save the situa- 
 tion, he felt like the juggler with the plates. But 
 he got no applause. 
 
 His position in the market began to waver. 
 The dealers were no longer so certain that he was 
 a good investment. The depression might be 
 temporary, but, on the other hand, he might go 
 the way that many another artist had gone after 
 
 177 
 
178 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 marriage. For the present, however, they were 
 not unwilling to invest at prices; if he justified 
 their earlier expectations, the time was very 
 favourable for acquiring "Keiths" the work 
 that they bought to-day for a song might be sold 
 a few years hence for large figures. On the 
 whole, they were pleased to see him when he 
 called, though, detecting his necessities, they 
 were much less gracious in their greeting. He 
 waited now at Vivard's before Vivard con- 
 descended to recognise that he had come in. 
 
 Mrs. Waldehast had missed the season here, 
 but written that she and her husband would be 
 in Europe in the fall. They meant to spend a 
 fortnight of their time in London, and they were 
 coming to see Betty directly they arrived. 
 
 Betty awaited them with mingled feelings; 
 she would be very glad to meet Dardy again, but 
 she wished that the meeting weren't to take place 
 in Telemachus Mansions. Though she had 
 winced at the thought of welcoming her to 
 Sibella Road, the little house had looked much 
 better than the diminutive flat. She hoped that 
 the invitation to dinner would be declined; and 
 as she arranged flowers, on the afternoon that the 
 visit was expected, she was painfully conscious 
 that one couldn't furnish a drawing-room with 
 chrysanthemums. 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 179 
 
 Mrs. Waldehast came alone, in a motor and 
 a costume that made Betty feel very cheap. It 
 was explained that "Hal had been detained in 
 the hotel at the last moment." They hugged 
 each other and chattered, and Dardy restrained 
 her glances with commendable tact. 
 
 "It's just lovely to see you again!" she ex- 
 claimed. "How are you? Hal was dying to 
 come with me, but a man he was to meet on busi- 
 ness to-morrow 'phoned to say he was bound lo 
 go to Paris to-night; so Hal had to stay behind 
 to meet him now. How's the baby? I suppose 
 it's the only baby on this side ? Give me another 
 kiss, and tell me all about him. Where's your 
 husband?" 
 
 "Dick's very well; he's in his old studio, you 
 know he'll be back before you go. How did 
 you leave everybody at home? How's Howard 
 getting on? I never have a letter from him." 
 
 "Oh, I hear Howard's going ahead, putting on 
 weight. He finds the place very dull, of course, 
 but that was just what he wanted to set him 
 right; he wanted strapping down, and nursing 
 up. The regimen does wonders in these cases. 
 A friend of Hal's last year was much worse than 
 Howard; and they sent him to a sanatorium for 
 six months, and he came out strong enough to 
 
180 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 strangle lions before breakfast. Your father 
 seems in low spirits." 
 
 "About Howard?" 
 
 "I suppose that has something to do with it, 
 but I think it's more you than Howard; he told 
 me he was glad when I went round he 'could 
 hear if you were alive' ! You don't write to him 
 very often, do you?" 
 
 "What am I to write about?" 
 
 Dardy Waldehast checked a sigh, and stroked 
 her muff. 
 
 "Are you going to sit in those things for 
 ever?" said Betty. "There was a time when you 
 didn't wait to be asked! Won't you stay and, 
 dine with us? Perhaps Hal will come too? You 
 might telephone and find out." 
 
 "I can't stay this evening; we've some people 
 coming in. Besides, it's just on the cards that 
 Hal might take a notion to run over to Paris 
 with this man it's a big thing they've got on." 
 
 "Well, you won't go, will you you aren't go- 
 ing to rush away from London the moment you 
 arrive? Don't be hateful, Dardy. I haven't 
 seen you for a hundred years." 
 
 "My dearest girl, I hope to see you every day 
 for two weeks. I thought we'd have a day to- 
 gether to-morrow. Can't you come up to me in 
 the morning? Or why not come back with me 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 181 
 
 this afternoon you dine with us instead. What 
 time does your husband come in?" 
 
 "He'll be in in about an hour. But we won't 
 dine with you I'll come in to-morrow some 
 time. Where are you staying?" 
 
 "The Ritz." 
 
 "Where's that?" 
 
 "Why, in Piccadilly! It's the new hotel just 
 open. You don't mean to say you haven't heard 
 of it?" 
 
 "I I was thinking of Paris for the moment," 
 said Betty. But Telemachus Mansions were a 
 long way from the Ititz in another world and 
 she had not read of its opening. "Wait a minute; 
 I want to show you Baby!" 
 
 Curled ready for her to fetch him, his frills 
 protected by a capacious over-all, he was finish- 
 ing his bottle. When she instructed the nurse 
 to come and take him away in ten minutes, she 
 blushed for herself she had lived to be proud 
 of exhibiting a trained servant! 
 
 It had been an anxious question, whether he 
 would be at his best this afternoon. For once 
 he showed off when he was wanted to! And at 
 the expiration of the ten minutes, the nurse's 
 entrance, in her immaculate white, was very satis- 
 factory. The cakes for tea, too, were the 
 daintiest obtainable in High Street, and there 
 
182 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 were green sandwiches from downstairs, which 
 would be charged for in the bill at fourpence a 
 bite. For a delusive instant Betty fancied that 
 perhaps her home didn't strike Dardy as so 
 dreadful after all. For an instant only. In the 
 next, she felt more abject for the thought. 
 
 The tea lasted until Keith returned; and as 
 he did not enter the passage discreetly, Dardy 
 said, "Here he is, isn't he?" and he was com- 
 pelled to show himself before he could change 
 his clothes. He was shabby and tired when he 
 greeted her; it occurred to Betty for the first 
 time, while she watched him with veiled nervous- 
 ness, that he had acquired the air of a failure. 
 
 The conversation became forced and insincere. 
 The lady could ask no intimate questions about 
 his affairs, and the man could ask no social 
 questions about New York. It was a relief to 
 everyone when the visit ended. Betty would go 
 to the hotel the next day; Keith's work, alas! 
 prevented his accompanying her. A final spurt 
 of false gaiety, parting kisses, and a trying wait 
 on the landing for the leisurely lift. The up- 
 standing bow in the lady's hat sunk from view 
 and Betty went into her bedroom and groaned. 
 
 Of course on the morrow it was less awkward. 
 The best affection is susceptible to environment. 
 The discussion of the "big thing" had taken 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 183 
 
 Waldehast to Paris, as foreseen, and in the pale 
 pink-and-white room overlooking Piccadilly the 
 two women were alone. Just at first there was 
 some embarrassment when Dardy said 
 
 "I'm so mad we couldn't get a parlour on the 
 Park side. Still, it's only for two weeks, so it 
 doesn't matter so much; we can put up with 
 this." 
 
 To Betty's senses, soothed by the restful aspect 
 of the room, "putting up with it" sounded a 
 little arrogant. The hostess recognised her 
 blunder, and her words fell fast to cover it. 
 
 It was not eighteen months ago that they had 
 talked together of the engagement with the ut- 
 most freedom, but the time and the marriage had 
 interposed a barrier, and not immediately was 
 it broken. A sentence, a word, something un- 
 designed, and then the delicate ground was 
 reached. Betty had said, "Of course that's be- 
 tween ourselves!" The rest was easy. 
 
 Mrs. Waldehast had come back from Ken- 
 sington dismayed. With the best intentions, she 
 implored her not to go on humouring her hus- 
 band's folly. 
 
 "It's as much for his sake as for yours that 
 I'm speaking," she said; and though they both 
 knew that it wasn't, the phrase enabled her to 
 
184 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 continue. "Remember you've got a child to con- 
 sider it's all very rough on the child!" 
 
 "Oh/' sighed Betty, "I don't forget that! I 
 never dreamed I could be such a devoted mother, 
 Dardy. I just worship my baby. I could eat 
 him up sometimes." She added dutifully, "Of 
 course I'm very fond of Richard too." 
 
 "Of course," said Mrs. Waldehast. 
 
 "But I did promise, you know." 
 
 "Rubbish!" 
 
 "I was old enough to know what I was do- 
 ing." 
 
 "You were, both of you, old enough to know 
 better. But it's never too late to mend. You've 
 given it a very fair trial, I'm sure, and it hasn't 
 worked. You can't pretend that you're content 
 you can't pretend that he's content. He's 
 looking ten years older." 
 
 "How do / look?" 
 
 "You'd look all right if you had a good time 
 again," replied Mrs. Waldehast hesitatingly. 
 
 Betty's eyes dilated: "I didn't know I had 
 changed so much as that," she said. "Of course 
 I know what my frock is !" 
 
 One night she slept there. London was de- 
 luged under a thunderstorm, and after contriv- 
 ing to telephone to Keith and hear that Baby was 
 safe and sound, she had consented to remain. It 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 185 
 
 was delightful to be ministered to, to feel her hair 
 brushed by Dardy's maid, and to lie in luxurious 
 contemplation when the maid had gone Betty 
 didn't switch off the light for a long while after 
 she was in bed. It was delightful, in the morn- 
 ing, to step through her doorway into a white, 
 spacious bathroom, and when she returned, to be 
 met by a maid once more. She went home early, 
 fearful lest the baby had suffered a catastrophe 
 in her absence; and the miniature flat in Tele- 
 machus Mansions was fetid to her as she entered. 
 Though Mrs. Waldehast stayed in London for a 
 fortnight only, the fortnight was influential. 
 
 So far, Keith had managed either to pay the 
 bills or to conceal from his wife that he had not 
 paid them. Now there came a demand from 
 downstairs which he could hope to conceal for 
 no more than twenty-four hours. It blackened 
 the breakfast table. He slipped the note into his 
 pocket, and she had no suspicion of his burden as 
 he went out; but he went out weighted with the 
 knowledge that he must find thirty pounds, and 
 that there were occasions when thirty pounds 
 were as difficult to find as thirty thousand. 
 
 The picture that he had to sell was not every- 
 body's money. He was conscious of it when he 
 started. He was more conscious of it still when 
 he drooped down the Haymarket at noon. It 
 
186 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 was Wednesday, and play-goers were already 
 beginning to assemble at the pit and gallery 
 doors. As he tramped from refusal to refusal, 
 the luckless canvas grew as heavy as his spirit, 
 as heavy as his feet. If he failed, only two 
 courses were open to him: one was to shock 
 Betty by saying that they must pawn her en- 
 gagement ring; the other was to humiliate him- 
 self to Sir Percival and beg for a loan. Of the 
 two, the less execrable was to face the knight, but 
 he shrank from contemplating either. 
 
 At four o'clock he was back in Pall Mall. He 
 stood among the sauntering clubmen and the 
 carriages, the canvas still under his arm. As a 
 last hope, the Six Bells at Chelsea! Many a pic- 
 ture had changed hands there for a much larger 
 sum than he was asking. Chelsea was distant, 
 but he would have travelled farther for a chance 
 to-day. 
 
 His arrival there was ill-timed. Of the men 
 who painted and the men who bought none was 
 to be seen. The billiard-room showed only 
 strangers; the bowling-green was as fruitless as 
 the transplanted mulberry-tree. Upstairs, he 
 heard, there was no one but a pilgrim, who had 
 entered to walk in Whistler's footsteps and con- 
 template Carlyle's chair. "There have been 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 187 
 
 plenty of the people in," said the proprietor 
 sympathetically, "but they've all gone now." 
 
 It must be the loan, then ! 
 
 From Chelsea to the City. He kept glancing 
 at his watch, fearful that he might not reach the 
 office before his uncle left. 
 
 And he was just too late. His application 
 would have to be made at the house! This was 
 even more abhorrent; but anything was prefer- 
 able to Betty's alarm. 
 
 From the City to Clapham Park. On the 
 journey, he tried to fan faith by remembering 
 that the application would be his first, and that 
 his indigence was but temporary. 
 
 Never till now had there seemed to be so many 
 stations on the route, and never before had 
 King's Avenue seemed quite so long. There was 
 small-talk to be endured before he could seize 
 an opportunity. "Would his uncle lend him 
 thirty pounds ? His need was very pressing, and 
 the sum should be repaid in a month or two." 
 
 The knight refused with such blandness that 
 his refusal appeared to ask for gratitude. "The 
 calls upon him lately had been so numerous that 
 they prevented his acceding, but affection urged 
 him to point a moral: Richard should apply to 
 his father-in-law. Rightly regarded, his em- 
 barrassment was a blessing in disguise, for it 
 
188 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 indicated the path of duty. To advance the 
 money would, indeed, be a false kindness to him. 
 However! . . . He would stay to dinner? Well, 
 at least, he would have a glass of sherry?" 
 
 Keith declined both invitations, and King's 
 Avenue was no shorter as he tramped back. He 
 reached the flat very late, and Betty had already 
 dined. 
 
 "I've been wondering where you were," she 
 said. "What have you been doing?" 
 
 "I had to go out to Clapham Park. How's the 
 baby?" 
 
 "Baby's all right. What did you have to go 
 to Clapham Park for?" 
 
 "There was something I wanted to see Sir 
 [Percival about." 
 
 "I wish I had known you were going; I waited 
 for you for nearly an hour." 
 
 "I'm sorry; I didn't know, myself," said 
 Keith. 
 
 She asked no further question, and he rang the 
 bell, and had a stubborn drumstick of a fowl and 
 a strong whisky-and-soda. Half an hour passed 
 before he explained matters. 
 
 "Oh," he began, "there's a bill owing here for 
 rather a lot; I'm short of about thirty pounds. 
 It has got to be paid to-morrow. It's an awful 
 nuisance, but if you can spare your ring for a 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 189 
 
 month or so, it'll get us out of the hole. It's the 
 only plan I can think of, or you may be sure I 
 shouldn't suggest it." 
 
 "Why, yes," said Betty faintly, Vof course!" 
 "It's an awful nuisance," he repeated. "The 
 gallant knight wasn't any use; I might have 
 known he wouldn't be." 
 
 "Is that what you went to Clapham about?" 
 "Yes; I thought it was just worth trying." 
 "Hadn't you thought of the ring then?" 
 "I had thought of it, but the idea didn't at- 
 tract me." 
 
 "Surely it was better to take the ring than go 
 humbling yourself to relations?" 
 
 "I don't know," sighed Keith; "it was your 
 engagement ring engagement rings seem 
 sacred. Besides, I didn't want you to know we 
 were so hard up. You're a trump to put such a 
 good face on it, but of course I understand. We 
 shall worry through all right, little woman 
 don't picture us singing in the streets!" 
 
 She replied with the ghost of a smile, and for 
 some seconds he smoked in silence. 
 
 "Suppose," she said feebly, "we don't worry 
 through all right? What then?" 
 
 "'Sufficient for the day '!" 
 
 "This won't do much good. How long will it 
 be before the next bill comes up?" 
 
190 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 "Well, they come up every week, don't they? 
 But we can let them run for a bit again ; I don't 
 suppose we're the only people in the place who 
 don't pay regularly. The rent is the chief 
 
 bother. If that old humbug But what's the 
 
 good of talking!" 
 
 "What did he say?" 
 
 "Say? He said there were 'many calls upon 
 him' the house won't see any more from me! 
 It was a 'blessing in disguise' to be dunned, ac- 
 cording to him." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 "Oh, of course, he advised me to turn to your 
 father. He knew I shouldn't, but it was a good 
 way out." 
 
 "His behaviour to you would be very different 
 if you ever did," she said tentatively; "eh?" 
 
 "Yes, I suppose it would," said Keith. 
 
 "It'd be 'my dear nephew, Lynch's son-in- 
 law.' " 
 
 "I daresay." His tone dismissed the subject. 
 
 There was another pause and her voice was 
 abrupt: "Do you ever think of it, Dick?" 
 
 "Do I ever think of it?" He turned white. 
 "Good Heavens, haven't we done with that?" 
 She didn't answer. "You're not thinking of it, 
 are you?" he faltered. 
 
 "It's getting worse and worse with us, that's 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 191 
 
 all. The money is there if you like to take it. 
 It'd make my father very happy, and and 
 everybody else." 
 
 "You?" 
 
 "Yes, me too," she owned. "It's no use our 
 fooling ourselves it can't go on much longer." 
 
 "What can't?" 
 
 "This life we're leading. We've given it a 
 very fair trial you don't say it's a success, do 
 you?" 
 
 "No," said Keith, staring at her; "no, it's not 
 a success; I'm obliged to pawn your engagement 
 ring, so you ask me to sell my conscience." 
 
 "Oh, the ring," she burst out passionately, 
 "the ring is only one thing more! It's petty and 
 mean of you to pretend that you think it's be- 
 cause of the ring. It was bound to come, any- 
 how, sooner or later." 
 
 "It's as well that it's sooner, then," he said 
 sternly. 
 
 "So I think. I'm sorry it wasn't sooner still; 
 I'm sorry I submitted so long. He's my father, 
 and your attitude is an insult to him." 
 
 "Let's be truthful," said Keith. "Your affec- 
 tion for your father isn't very great; you're not 
 complaining 'of any insult to your father you're 
 complaining of your own hardships." 
 
 "Yes, I'm complaining of my own hardships, 
 
192 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 and my child's! I don't choose to have him 
 brought up in beggary." 
 
 "And I don't choose to have him brought up 
 in dishonour. Oh, don't let's have another row! 
 Every artist has his ups and downs; if you're 
 patient, we shall be all right yet. There was no 
 mistake about it before we married; you knew 
 what it meant and you told me I was justified. 
 Don't eat your own words; don't ask me to eat 
 mine." His tone softened. "Won't you be 
 brave, kiddy, and see it out?" 
 
 "You don't understand," she sobbed. "I want 
 to be good, I do want to be good, but it's so 
 hard. You don't know what it is to me here 
 the awfulness of it. I know what I said, and 
 I've tried. I have tried! But I can't bear it any 
 longer, I can't!" 
 
 Keith sat down helplessly. "Yes, I under- 
 stand. I don't reproach you I was cruel to re- 
 proach you. I suppose it's natural that you can't 
 bear it." 
 
 "I've done my best. No girl ever meant bet- 
 ter than I did. But it has gone on so long." 
 
 "Did you expect me to make a fortune in a 
 year and a half?" 
 
 "No, but- - Oh, I don't know!" 
 
 "Tell me," he urged. 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 193 
 
 "I don't know. I suppose I thought it would 
 end the other way." 
 
 "I made my refusal very clear, didn't I?" 
 
 "I didn't know you'd refuse for ever." 
 
 Keith raised his head. "You hoped to talk 
 me round?" he asked hoarsely. 
 
 "I I thought that you might change your 
 mind." 
 
 "Oh!" He sprang to his feet. "Talk straight! 
 ,You married, meaning to persuade me? When 
 you said that you felt I was right, that you'd 
 give the money up, that you were ready to face 
 life with me, it was all a trick?" 
 
 "Xo, it was real, I meant it! It was after- 
 wards I thought you might give in only after- 
 wards." 
 
 He groaned. "What does it matter? You 
 agreed to marry me, and you wish you hadn't 
 that's what it amounts to ! I'm not blaming you 
 of course it was preposterous, everyone said it 
 was preposterous. / was the only fool who be- 
 lieved in it. ... So you've been miserable all 
 the time? Well, what's to be done?" 
 
 "If you'd only let me write to him, we might 
 be as happy as we were at the beginning. You 
 know we've been drifting apart. All our troubles, 
 our quarrels, have come from our poverty it 
 isn't you and I that have changed to each other, 
 
194 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 really; it's the squalor that's crushing our love. 
 I do want to be good, I swear I do; but my 
 sacrifice isn't helping anybody, nobody is any 
 better off for it. If I knew that thousands of 
 people in the world, or even a few, were happier 
 for what I'm suffering, it'd be easier to bear, I'd 
 see something in return. But I can't suffer for 
 a theory; it isn't fair to ask it of me." 
 
 "Well, what's to be done?" he said again. 
 "What you propose is impossible." 
 
 "You won't let him help us?" 
 
 "No. I don't want to be harsh I'm too sorry 
 for you, I feel too guilty for having married you 
 but you and I can't live on the money, Betty. 
 Put that thought aside at last, for the thing will 
 never happen." 
 
 "I won't go on as we are!" she cried; "I won't 
 go through any more scenes like this. It has got 
 to be altered now somehow!" 
 
 "What do you mean by 'somehow'?" he ques- 
 tioned slowly. . . . "Do you mean you want to 
 leave me?" 
 
 "You will make me do it; I have told you just 
 how I feel, I have told you that I can't endure 
 any more. You must choose between your pride 
 and me." 
 
 "And, after all that has been said, from first 
 to last, do you really imagine we should be any 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 195 
 
 happier together on his money? You must 
 know as well as I do that it would only make the 
 breach between us wider." 
 
 "Well!" The shrug was reckless. 
 
 "Well, you must do as you please!" said he. 
 
 "You choose your pride?" 
 
 "Oh, we won't haggle about words," he said 
 wearily; "call it 'pride' if you like. I've done all 
 I could to make you happy, God knows ! But I 
 did you a wrong in marrying you. I understand. 
 I understand your point of view much better 
 than you understand mine. If you want to go, 
 you must go. But what about the baby?" 
 
 "Baby?" Her gesture proclaimed. 
 
 "Xo," said Keith; "you mustn't do that!" 
 
 "What? Do you think I'd leave him?" she 
 gasped. 
 
 "He's my child too you've no right to take 
 away my child." 
 
 "I'm his mother; I'm thinking of him as much 
 as of myself, and more. Is it likely I'd go with- 
 out him? For me to live in luxury, and leave 
 my baby here ? You must be crazy. I wouldn't 
 do it for anything in the world!" 
 
 "Well, you see, I'm fond of him, and I don't 
 mean to part with him, either. That I'm too 
 hard up to content my wife is no reason why I 
 should lose my son." 
 
196 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 "It's a queer kind of love you have for him," 
 she retorted. "You don't mind risking his 
 health in there, you don't mind ruining his 
 future ! He might be brought up like a prince 
 and you 'love' him so much that you're spoiling 
 his poor little life for the sake of your fads!" 
 
 "I don't think he will ever tell me I've spoilt 
 it," said Keith shakily. "With my consent, he 
 shall never owe a single advantage to your fa- 
 ther's millions, as a child or as a man. And when 
 he's old enough to judge, I hope he'll thank me 
 for having kept his life clean." 
 
 "You hope he won't be like his mother, don't 
 you? I hate you! I can't drag him from you, 
 so I'll have to stay, but I hate you! Even if I 
 have to starve with him, I'll stay. He's mine !" 
 
 "Good-night," said Keith. "I shall sleep at 
 the studio." 
 
 He went to the bedroom, and threw some 
 things into a bag. When he was on the stairs, 
 he remembered the ring, and hesitated. But no, 
 he could send for it in the morning! Almost at 
 the same moment, he heard her calling. 
 
 "Here's the ring," she muttered, as he lagged 
 back. She dropped it in his hand, and he was 
 forced to pocket it and he felt as if he had been 
 whipped across the face. 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE last time he had awakened in this room 
 was on his wedding day. This morning he woke 
 to the knowledge that his wife remained with him 
 because she would not leave her child. He him- 
 self counted for nothing in her life ; she had pro- 
 posed to desert him, only the child prevented her! 
 What did the future promise? 
 
 He slunk to the private office of a pawn- 
 broker's as soon as the shops opened, and was dis- 
 mayed by the latest example of the difference be- 
 tween the purchasing price and the pledging 
 value; he was offered no more than twenty-five 
 pounds. 
 
 "Twenty-five is no good," he said; "lend me 
 the rest on my watch, then!" 
 
 The elegant assistant retired again, and Keith 
 sketched a profile absently on the blotting-pad 
 till he came back. 
 
 "Three pounds ten," he announced, "is the best 
 we can do." 
 
 "I always did get a fiver," said the artist 
 reminiscently. 
 
 197 
 
198 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 "Watches," explained the assistant, "have 
 come down so!" 
 
 "Well, I'll put the chain in too," said Keith, 
 and the young man quitted the room once more. 
 
 He was still unsatisfactory on his return. 
 
 "Twenty-five shillings," he said. 
 
 "How much is that altogether?" 
 
 A rapid pen showed the total to be 29 15s. 
 
 Keith felt in all his pockets, and brought forth 
 a gold pencil-case, given to him by Betty, and 
 a silver match-box. "I'll have a match out, I 
 want to light a cigarette," he said. "Will you 
 see if I can have the other five bob on those?" 
 
 At last the total was correct, and he took a 
 cheque to Telemachus Mansions within an hour. 
 But he did not go up to the flat. He went away, 
 questioning what he was to do for money pending 
 the sale of work. He had to pay in the thirty 
 pounds at the bank before the cheque an open 
 one was presented, and suddenly he wondered 
 if he was the sort of client who was allowed to 
 overdraw his account. The manager's comments 
 on the weather had always been genial across 
 the counter; he had even offered criticisms of 
 the Academy, mistaken, but well-meant. Wild 
 though the attempt might be, it would cost noth- 
 ing! 
 
 Mr. Adams was engaged at present, and con- 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 199 
 
 fidence shrank under delay. It was also em- 
 barrassing to the novice to feel that his business 
 was divined by the clerk behind the counter. 
 Presently the brass door-knob turned, and the 
 manager's white head bowed a lady out. "I'm 
 very sorry," he was murmuring. It sounded 
 ominous. 
 
 Keith shook hands with him, and sat down in 
 the chair that the lady had vacated. 
 
 "I want to know if I may overdraw," he 
 blurted. 
 
 The manager smiled. Hope leapt high. 
 
 "Oh, I daresay," he said. "I suppose you'll 
 soon be doing something with a picture, Mr. 
 Keith?" 
 
 "I may sell something any day." 
 
 "Oh yes, I daresay we can manage that for 
 you. Up to what amount do you " 
 
 "About fifty." His heart stood still. 
 
 Mr. Adams showed no disapproval. "Excuse 
 me just for a moment," he said. 
 
 This was too sunny to last he would come 
 back to say he couldn't do it ! Well, keep repeat- 
 ing that it would have cost nothing! 
 
 "That will be all right, Mr. Keith," said the 
 manager musically. 
 
 "If you've been looking at my account, I may 
 
200 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 tell you I've just given a cheque that'll wipe it 
 clean out." 
 
 Mr. Adams' nods were assuring. 
 
 "I'm tremendously obliged!" exclaimed Keith, 
 taking up his hat. 
 
 "I'm glad we can convenience you. I only wish 
 everybody would cut it just as short. I always 
 know what they're going to say, but most people 
 make me wait such a long time before they come 
 to the point." 
 
 It was amazing, but it had happened. A 
 minute later Keith trod the street with his mone- 
 tary care banished. He wished fervently that 
 this idea had occurred to him before he asked 
 Betty for the ring. His impulse was to redeem 
 it at once, but if he did so, he might have to ask 
 her for it again. The reflection determined him 
 to leave it where it was till he received a sub- 
 stantial payment. A bank was certainly a great 
 institution; how much more complacent than a 
 pawnbroker's! While there were banks, there 
 seemed no reason why he should ever be hard up. 
 
 Yes, though the power of fifty pounds would 
 be brief, his monetary care was banished; many 
 an affliction carries an advantage, even the 
 artistic temperament. But the artistic tempera- 
 ment could not lighten the domestic trouble. He 
 went home to dinner reluctantly. Would she 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 201 
 
 recur to the subject, or were they to dine in 
 silence, or was the occurrence to be ignored? He 
 decided to say, "Good-evening. How's Baby?" 
 and await results. 
 
 "Good-evening," he said. "How's Baby?" 
 
 She had been reproaching herself for the "I 
 hate you" all day, and she did her best to answer 
 as usual. Keith, in his turn, rejoined as cor- 
 dially as indignation permitted. In the heart of 
 each was a hot grievance against the other, and 
 the mutual sham was no triumph of histrionic 
 art. 
 
 "Anybody been?" he inquired, with an effort. 
 
 "Mrs. Premlow came in this afternoon," she 
 said. 
 
 "Oh? What has she got to say?" 
 
 "Nothing particular. She says her husband 
 is very pleased with some picture he's doing." 
 
 "I've seen it; the thing shrieks," said Keith. 
 "Is that all? Have you been out?" 
 
 "I changed my book." 
 
 "What did you get?" 
 
 "I got Wynne's new one. It's very good as 
 far as I've gone." She picked it up and ruffled 
 the pages. 
 
 At dinner it was no livelier. 
 
 As the hours ticked by, the tension increased. 
 Both were reading, but both questioned what was 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 to be done when he rose to leave again. The 
 man wondered whether she would hint to him 
 that he wasn't to go. The woman wondered 
 whether he would hint to her that he wished to 
 stay. 
 
 With equal aversion, they foresaw the awk- 
 wardness of the climax. At a quarter to eleven 
 Keith told himself that he would rise at eleven 
 o'clock; but when the signal struck, he still 
 faltered. Over the top of her novel, Betty was 
 relieved to see him fill another pipe. 
 
 Now it was a quarter past eleven. It was half- 
 past. The postponement was becoming ridicul- 
 ous. He got up abruptly. "Well, good-night!" 
 he said, scarcely glancing at her. 
 
 "Good-night," she said, just turning her head. 
 
 So the custom was established. 
 
 Neither regretted it. Very soon the "good- 
 night" held less awkwardness than the "good- 
 evening." He never forgot that he would not 
 have found her sitting there but for the child in 
 the third room. She never forgot that her child 
 was condemned to the third room by her hus- 
 band's obstinacy. Every evening Keith asked, 
 "How's the baby?" and heard that he was well, 
 and stole in to view him sleeping. Every even- 
 ing he stood by the cot for a minute, in the nurse's 
 presence, like a visitor. 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 203 
 
 When a fortnight had passed, he received a 
 different answer to his question. "Baby has a 
 cold." Even affection found nothing portentous 
 in it. This was on Tuesday. 
 
 On Friday, when he returned, Betty met him 
 with a blanched face, and the baby was awake. 
 
 "He seems very feverish and restless; I've 
 sent for a doctor!" 
 
 None but the parents of an only child know 
 what terror can grip the heart when "Baby seems 
 very feverish." Suddenly the capable nurse ap- 
 peared a pillar of strength to Keith ; his eyes be- 
 sieged her with inquiries. 
 
 "I don't think there's anything to be upset 
 about, sir," she said. "But Mrs. Keith'll feel 
 easier in her mind when the doctor's been." 
 
 "What man did you send for? Who recom- 
 mended him? Did you say he was wanted at 
 once?" Half a dozen questions leapt from his 
 alarm. 
 
 The doctor was long in coming, and his un- 
 concerned demeanour was affronting when he 
 came; to him such urgent messages were all in 
 the day's routine. A medical man divides symp- 
 toms into the objective and subjective those 
 that he sees for himself, and those that his 
 patients tell him. And the latter he subdivides 
 into the Real and the Imaginary. 
 
204 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 But when he made his examination of the 
 child's chest, Dr. Griffiths was graver. The 
 respiration was hurried, and caused pain, and the 
 temperature was high. He admitted that the 
 case was critical. Forced to put a name to it, 
 he spoke of pleuro-pneumonia. 
 
 "I'd like you to bring a physician," gasped 
 Betty, as the word's left his lips. 
 
 He was surprised. His practice did not lie 
 among people who suggested consultations so 
 swiftly. He promised himself a half -guinea a 
 visit instead of three and sixpence. Inhuman? 
 No, human he also had a homeful of anxieties. 
 
 "Sir Edward Cooper is as good a man as you 
 could have," he said. 
 
 Sir Edward Cooper came on the morrow, and 
 Keith was there to receive him. The distin- 
 guished person only corroborated the struggling 
 man's opinion, and made a perfunctory altera- 
 tion in his treatment; but he was cheap at the 
 three guineas, for both the father and the mother 
 felt encouraged when he had been. It is among 
 the general practitioner's pains and penalties to 
 see these things; a visit from a title always im- 
 proves the condition of the patient's friends. 
 
 But no improvement was to be noted in the 
 baby during the next two days, though, at 
 Betty's request, the visit was repeated. Keith 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 205 
 
 left the flat very late now, and was there again 
 before breakfast. He spent the days pacing the 
 sitting-room and tiptoeing to the nursery for re- 
 ports. Betty, hollow-eyed for lack of sleep, was 
 no comrade in the crisis. The cold from which 
 the illness had developed was attributed to the 
 fact that it was difficult to ventilate the nursery 
 without exposing the child to a draught. The 
 thought seethed in her: If Baby were to die! 
 She was sorry for Keith's trouble, she spoke 
 every word that was true to sustain his hope, but 
 she blamed him furiously. The mutual grief did 
 nothing to draw them to each other's arms. 
 
 No, the husband and wife did not kiss again 
 with tears. She who became strangely devoted 
 was the domineering nurse. She had a nature 
 that put forth its flowers in shadow. The arbi- 
 trary snob, who had hitherto found nothing good 
 enough, was now a self-abnegating soul who 
 found nothing too bad. Untiring, unselfish, she 
 bloomed with new virtues hourly. Finally, her 
 tone was even gentle to the waiters. 
 
 On the third morning, when Keith arrived he 
 heard in the hall that Dr. Griffiths had been sent 
 for in haste, and was still upstairs. The lift-lad 
 was not in attendance yet; Keith reached the 
 flat breathless. 
 
206 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 Betty and the doctor were in the sitting- 
 room. 
 
 "What's happened?" 
 
 "He's worse. Dr. Griffiths has just seen 
 him." 
 
 "The breathing is very oppressed," explained 
 the doctor; "I'm sorry to say there has been 
 further effusion in the night." 
 
 "Effusion?" It conveyed nothing. 
 
 "I was just going to tell Mrs. Keith that we 
 should have to draw off some of this fluid to tap 
 the chest, I mean. We ought to have it done as 
 soon as possible to-day." 
 
 "An operation?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Is it dangerous?" 
 
 Dr. Griffiths hesitated. 
 
 "I should prefer it to be done by a specialist," 
 he parried. 
 
 "Yes, yes," said Keith, "of course !" 
 
 "I want to understand, please," panted Betty. 
 "I've got to know just what we're risking." 
 
 "It sometimes causes syncope." 
 
 "And?" She pressed hard. 
 
 "With a skilful " 
 
 "And death?" she whispered. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 207 
 
 "Who's the best man?" she wailed. "I want 
 the best!" 
 
 "Wait!" exclaimed Keith. "Before we risk the 
 operation, what's the risk of not operating?" 
 
 "You'd be taking a greater responsibility still. 
 To be candid, I must say that such an operation 
 is unusual, and something of a forlorn hope. On 
 the other hand, you can see, by his dusky colour 
 and dilated nostrils, how desperately bad the 
 poor little thing is. If nothing is done, your 
 child hasn't many hours to live." 
 
 "You won't mind my saying that we must have 
 that confirmed before we decide? I'd like a sec- 
 ond opinion, I'd like Cooper to see him again this 
 morning." 
 
 "Certainly." 
 
 "Who's the best man, doctor?" she moaned. 
 "Is there anyone that you have absolute faith 
 in?" 
 
 "The man to get, of course, if you can afford 
 to have him, is Mr. Wimble, of Bart's. He's ex- 
 pensive and there's the question if he would 
 operate to-day." 
 
 "The expense doesn't matter," she declared. 
 Her eyes met Keith's and challenged him. 
 
 "What's his fee?" he asked hoarsely. 
 
 "Wimble never operates under a hundred 
 guineas." 
 
208 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 Would the bank grant another overdraft? 
 
 "I'll telephone to Cooper now," he stammered. 
 His face was ashen. "I'll see if he can come at 
 once." 
 
 Sir Edward undertook to be with them at half- 
 past ten, and Dr. Griffiths arranged to return. 
 Keith followed Betty to the nursery. Beside the 
 cot the nurse was crying he was sensible of the 
 wonder of it, even in the desperation of his strait. 
 As he watched the little life labouring for breath, 
 as he suffered with it, as he prayed God for it 
 to be spared, he still heard the menace of his 
 wife's words: "The expense doesn't matter." 
 
 The bank had scarcely opened when he was 
 with the manager again. This time there was 
 no amazement, the answer was but what he had 
 expected even while he pleaded. Mr. Adams 
 was regretful the account did not justify con- 
 sent. 
 
 One hope remained Cooper might avert the 
 operation. 
 
 Griffiths' brougham drew up at the Mansions 
 punctually. The physician's motor car heralded 
 his advent soon afterwards. 
 
 "The expense doesn't matter!" Still Keith 
 heard it, as he waited for the pronouncement. 
 It "didn't matter"? No, not to her to her 
 there would be no bitterness, no shame. But to 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 209 
 
 him! His resolve to be cast aside, his vaunt of 
 three weeks since annulled in degradation his 
 Son to be saved by Lynch's aid? 
 
 The men came back. 
 
 "Operate. It'll ward off immediate danger. 
 Wimble, by all means." 
 
 A hundred guineas, or his child's life his 
 child's life, or apostasy to save it! 
 
 Apostasy! And his torture made no illusions. 
 He did not strive to think that he would yield 
 because the mother had the right to claim it, he 
 did not palter with any subtilties of right and 
 wrong his breaking spirit owned that he would 
 yield because he loved his boy. 
 
 There followed stereotyped phrases of en- 
 couragement, an assurance that the best arrange- 
 ments should be made without delay. An 
 envelope was slipped into pearl-grey gloves. 
 The lift descended. The motor-car and brougham 
 had gone. 
 
 She turned from the window with a slip of 
 paper in her hand. 
 
 "I suppose you know I'm going to cable to my 
 father for this money?" she said in a hard voice. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "You can ask the surgeon to wait a few hours 
 for his fee?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
210 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 "Here's what I've written." 
 
 He read, "Child dangerously ill. I want a 
 hundred guineas to-day. BETTY." 
 
 "Will you copy it on a form when you go out, 
 and send it so that he gets it about eight o'clock 
 in New York?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 He went out and copied the appeal to Lynch. 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 "WELL?" 
 
 "Well, that's all right, sir!" 
 
 "Successful?" 
 
 "Quite." 
 
 "Thank Godl" There was something like a 
 sob in his voice. "I'm immensely grateful to 
 you." 
 
 "The more urgent symptoms are much re- 
 lieved, and he may be as well as ever in a week 
 or two. Let us hope so. Keep him quiet. But 
 your excellent nurse knows just what's to be 
 done." 
 
 "Have something before you go ! Dr. Griffiths, 
 a whisky-and-soda?" He spoke to Wimble 
 apart. "I've dated this cheque for the day after 
 to-morrow. You won't mind holding it over?" 
 
 "With pleasure." 
 
 The tension was past. The surgeon's bag was 
 no longer an object of terror. He and Griffiths 
 were animated. Betty had shaken their hands 
 and was crying with relief. Then they went, and 
 she gazed at Keith, and froze. Her impulse had 
 
 211 
 
212 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 asked for him to clasp her in his arms, to echo her 
 joy and she saw a grey-faced man bowed with 
 humiliation. She made no allowances. The 
 baby was safe, and the father could think only 
 of his own defeat! That was how it seemed to 
 her, and she felt him to be egoistic and cold. 
 Dimly he was conscious of his deficiency in her 
 eyes acutely he was conscious of his solitude 
 but he had suffered too many emotions since 
 morning to be able to simulate one now. Her 
 anguish during the ordeal, her prayers, her 
 hysterical thanksgiving, all these things he had 
 shared. But once more he stood alone ; there was 
 none to share the burden of his self-reproach : "I 
 couldn't pay to save my own child's life 1" 
 
 Lynch cabled five hundred pounds. The boy's 
 condition improved daily, the nurse regained her 
 dignified demeanour, and by Dr. Griffiths' ad- 
 vice, Betty decided to go with them to Bourne- 
 mouth for a month. 
 
 Keith was staying at home. Poor effort at 
 independence! His wife had written for ac- 
 commodation at the best hotel; she had bought 
 new clothes for the baby, and ordered new 
 costumes for herself; already she had spoken of 
 renting a larger and expensive room in the 
 Mansions for a nursery. But he wasn't going 
 with her to the seaside! 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 How could it end? He put the question to 
 himself hourly after the departure was made. 
 Night after night he sat alone in the flat, remem- 
 bering the compact and viewing its collapse. The 
 thing that he had sworn should never be, had 
 come to pass they were being supported by 
 Lynch's money! A debt that might be dis- 
 charged? To say so would be sophistry. Long 
 before this sum could be repaid there would be 
 another and another and soon a settlement 
 offered and accepted. The man looked the 
 truth in the eyes. The thing had come to pass! 
 
 What was his duty? To forbid? It would be 
 idle. Besides, had he the right to forbid, after 
 what had happened? Hadn't he forfeited the 
 right? She, at least, might say so. To submit? 
 That would mean continuous ignominy, as the 
 price of holding his wife and child. And his 
 child's recovery he owed, under Heaven, to 
 Lynch's purse, and his wife had wished for a 
 separation. Now, of course, she might be satis- 
 fied to remain, but her victory made her love no 
 deeper. 
 
 Was it worth while to sink to it all, was it good 
 enough? He knew that what he shrank from 
 most was, not parting from the later Betty, but 
 from the boy ; it was the boy that made a coward 
 of him. But, again, was it good enough ? Of the 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 two evils, the lesser might be the wrench. It 
 might, it would, be less awful to lose at once than 
 to lose by slow degrees; less bitter to resign his 
 claim than to see his child estranged with Lynch's 
 finery, bedizened with Lynch's trinkets, fostered, 
 and pampered, and misled with Lynch's wealth. 
 
 And he himself would have to share it! The 
 chair that he sat on, and the servant behind it, 
 and the food that he swallowed, would be paid 
 for by Lynch. A daily degradation. For what? 
 He had meant to keep his son unsmirched by 
 guilty dollars, and he had failed. Then let the 
 mother take him, as she had asked let them 
 go! 
 
 He did not come to the conclusion in a night 
 or in a week or, more exactly, he came to it 
 every night, and then pondered from the start- 
 ing-point again. But he came to it at last defi- 
 nitely, assisted by a letter, in which Betty alluded 
 to her return and the necessity for the new ar- 
 rangement. 
 
 "I am coming down to see you," he wrote, and 
 he went. 
 
 She was out when he arrived, and he waited 
 for her in her sitting-room on the first floor. He 
 noted the extravagance of flowers, and the 
 peaches on the sideboard. Details as they were, 
 they hardened him in his resolve. It hardened 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 215 
 
 him in his resolve when she entered, careless and 
 fashionable a beauty without a scruple, her con- 
 science asleep again. 
 
 "You never told me what train you were com- 
 ing by, or I'd have been in," she said. "Have 
 Baby and nurse came back yet?" 
 
 "I haven't seen them," said Keith. "Is he quite 
 strong now?" 
 
 "Oh yes, he's splendid." 
 
 She unpinned her hat, and put it aside; and 
 hummed a little, to disguise her nervousness, as 
 she drew off her gloves. The man turned to the 
 window, and stood staring at the sea before he 
 spoke. His opening sentences had evaporated. 
 
 "Betty." 
 
 "Yes?" She tried to sound surprised at the 
 tone. 
 
 "You remember what I said before he was ill?" 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "I had to take it back; his life was at stake 
 I sent that cable for you." 
 
 "You sent it for yourself too; you love him, 
 don't you?" 
 
 "Yes. I sent it for myself as much as for you. 
 But I only asked for the surgeon's fee. That 
 might have been a loan. Do you think that my 
 failure, my shame for I was sick with shame, 
 and you knew it do you think it justified you 
 
216 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 in squandering whatever your father was willing 
 to send? Do you think it justified you in living 
 as you're living now as you talk of living when 
 you come back? You know perfectly that if I 
 took the room you speak of, I couldn't pay for 
 it. You know our expenses are too heavy al- 
 ready ; how do you propose that we should meet 
 more ? We must understand each other ; I want 
 to know if you're counting on his. help for the 
 future?" 
 
 "What if I am? I should have thought com- 
 mon gratitude would have removed your prej- 
 udice, after what he has done." 
 
 "I expected you would say that," he said. "It 
 sounds very well. If you were a fool, I might 
 even think you were deceived by it. So you are 
 counting on his keeping us?" 
 
 "Haven't we had a lesson? didn't we nearly 
 lose Baby?" she exclaimed. "If he had had a 
 proper room, it'd never have happened!" 
 
 "Who says so?" 
 
 "Xurse says so. She knows what she's talking 
 about." 
 
 "And supposing you hadn't a rich father? 
 What would you do then? Yes, I do love the 
 child too, and his health's just as much to me as 
 it is to you, and I'll make any change for him that 
 J can. But it isn't for the child's health that 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 217 
 
 you're spending twenty or thirty pounds a week 
 here, or wearing that dress. I say we've got 
 to understand each other. I must know what 
 you intend to do. If you mean this kind of thing 
 to go on, it means the end of our life together." 
 
 She stood by the mantelpiece, her head bent. 
 "You haven't made it a very happy life lately, 
 anyhow, have you?" she muttered. 
 
 "I! If a woman speaks to her husband as 
 you spoke to me she has either got to tell him 
 she's sorry, or accept the situation." 
 
 "A woman doesn't say she's sorry to a block 
 of wood," said Betty, with dry lips. 
 
 "And a man doesn't feel demonstrative to- 
 wards a woman who only remains with him be- 
 cause she doesn't want to leave the baby. If I 
 had agreed to let him go with you, you wouldn't 
 be here. Well, I take back another thing: I take 
 back my refusal if he's to be brought up on 
 your father's money, it shall be in New York." 
 
 She faced him in a flash, erect and white. 
 
 "You'll never say that to me again!" 
 
 "I ask you to choose." 
 
 "You've told me I may go, and to take him 
 with me. Very well. I'll do it!" 
 
 "Oh, play straight!" he cried. "The decision 
 rests with you, not me don't let's have any hum- 
 bug about it! If you go, it's because I'm a poor 
 
218 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 man ; if you stay, you must act fairly to me. IVe 
 come down to ask you which it's to be." 
 
 "I am going." 
 
 "All right. I daresay your father will be very 
 glad to have you back. Perhaps he'll be able to 
 work a divorce for you I've no doubt he'll try. 
 . . . That's all, then?" 
 
 "That's all." 
 
 There was a long pause. The result was only 
 what he had feared, but now that it had come, 
 he found himself unprepared and dazed. His 
 feeling was not poignant he had been much 
 more moved by many a play; the thing seemed 
 unreal far more unreal than a play; dimly he 
 was surprised that he didn't suffer. It was 
 strange their lives were dividing, and he felt no 
 pain ; there was none of the chokiness, the protest 
 that he had known in anticipation. He was liv- 
 ing the scene apathetically, as he might have lived 
 it in a dream. 
 
 In her, emotions clashed and sobbed misery, 
 and indignation, and self -contempt. If he had 
 thrown his arms round her, she knew that she 
 would have wept her heart out and promised all 
 he asked and simultaneously she wondered 
 whether she could have kept her word. 
 
 "Oh, I beg your pardon, sir!" The nurse 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 219 
 
 came in, carrying the child. "I didn't know you 
 were here." 
 
 "Good-afternoon," he said. "Well, Baby?" 
 He touched a cheek gently. "Are you coming to 
 me?" 
 
 "Has he had a nice time, nurse?" asked Betty, 
 her face averted. 
 
 "Oh, yes, ma'am. He had a little sleep, too, 
 while he was out. Didn't he, a pet?" 
 
 "Are you coming to me?" repeated Keith. 
 "Your father has to go to town again at once." 
 
 He held the child, and kissed him. His son 
 had scrambled and leapt to reach his arms a hun- 
 dred times, and gurgled with satisfaction when 
 there ; but to-day there was a wail to be set free. 
 Perhaps the kiss had been too hard. Trivial 
 as it was, the wail distressed the man. He gave 
 him back to the nurse, abashed. 
 
 "Well " he picked up his hat, and glanced 
 towards Betty; "if I hurry, I shall just manage 
 to catch that train," he said, with laboured care- 
 lessness. "Good-bye." 
 
 "Good-bye," she answered. 
 
 In the mirror, she watched him open the door. 
 The door shut. 
 
 "I don't know why Baby should cry for once 
 when his father kisses him!" she gasped resent- 
 fully. 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 EVERY day now, as she watched the Channel 
 curling on the shore, she thought of the Atlantic, 
 that was so sadly wide. "I am going to New 
 York, on a visit to my father ; I should like you 
 to go with me," she had told the nurse; and 
 though nurse was frankly appalled by the casual 
 mention of such an undertaking, she had, after 
 consideration, assented. And not altogether un- 
 graciously. 
 
 So there was nothing to cause delay, nothing 
 to prevent the passages being booked at once, 
 
 excepting What? Betty asked herself why 
 
 she hesitated, and shirked the answer. From 
 Keith she expected to hear no more. Now, at 
 last, she realised fully that she could never com- 
 promise between him and wealth. And she had 
 made her choice, and she had been given the boy. 
 Then why did she wait? She said finally that 
 she waited because she was a coward, too weak 
 to take a decisive step. For shame! Her chin 
 disdained her tears. Impulse lost patience with 
 such folly. 
 
 220 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 221 
 
 She wished that Lynch were in Europe. The 
 disorder of the docks, the farewells among 
 strangers, the nurse's protesting eyebrows, all 
 added pangs to her loneliness. And there was 
 no exhilaration in her mood afterwards, when 
 her nervousness for the boy was past, and she sat 
 in her deck-chair, gazing at the desolate sea. She 
 thought of the last time that she had been on an 
 Atlantic liner. Almost all that mattered in her 
 life seemed to have happened since then! Did 
 it seem ages back, that emotional trip, or not so 
 long ago as it was? Both, alternately. She re- 
 called the conferences with Dardy, their scheme 
 to get her own way. Reviewing those days, the 
 girl that she had been looked strange to her; she 
 had not recognised till now that she had altered 
 so much. 
 
 Her mind dwelt on the evening when she 
 promised to marry. Common sense would have 
 declared that it must be painful to think of that 
 now, but it was sweet; she thought of it more 
 often than of any later occurrence. How pretty 
 it had been! Dardy had once said, "There's a 
 bad fairy that flies away with our bridegrooms 
 while we're dreaming on the honeymoon and 
 when we wake, we just find husbands in their 
 place." Yes, Richard had altered too since their 
 marriage! If he had remained the same 
 
222 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 Time was a brutal thing, a "cynic," her father 
 had called it ! If Richard had remained the same, 
 she could have kept her word to him perhaps. 
 It wouldn't have seemed so hard if he had re- 
 mained her bridegroom. Still Oh, after all, 
 
 she didn't know that she blamed him or herself. 
 It was the sin of circumstances ; the circumstances 
 had been cruel. 
 
 The voyage was long, though she felt no im- 
 patience to arrive. Society worried her. The 
 women who talked to her struck her as vapid, 
 after women who had professions, or took an in- 
 terest in the professions of their husbands. She 
 observed newly that the ordinary woman's inter- 
 est in her husband's calling was limited to its 
 financial results. She did not want to chatter 
 inanities, or to play games. When the child 
 wasn't with her, she protected herself for the most 
 part with a book, of which she read but little. 
 On the third afternoon, the lady-killer among the 
 passengers attempted to storm the fortress and 
 for the rest of the trip, he disappeared into the 
 smoking-room when she came on deck. One eve- 
 ning at dinner she asked the captain "how far 
 they had come from home," and she only noticed 
 afterwards that she had said "home," instead of 
 "England." 
 
 She rose without eagerness on the morning 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 that they were to land. America was near ; field 
 glasses were numerous. Everybody else was ex- 
 cited. Americans saw the dear ground of their 
 birth, or their adoption, again; foreigners saw 
 the Tom Tiddler's ground of their expectations. 
 
 Lynch flung his arms about her with a sob, and 
 hugged her before the world ; and she drooped to 
 him, and reproached herself for not being glad 
 enough to see him. Sayings that she had paid 
 small heed to when they were uttered had 
 crowded back to haunt her, and she thought guilt- 
 ily of her husband's comment, "Your affection 
 for your father isn't very great." He was cry- 
 ing, unashamed, and for the first time she knew 
 it was pathetic that, worthily or unworthily, the 
 love of an adult is given and cannot be earned. 
 
 "Oh, honey, it's good to look at you!" he re- 
 iterated. "Is that the baby? Scott, my girl's 
 baby! How are you, how are you, my girl?" 
 
 It was queer to be j olted again over the rough 
 roads of the neighbourhood to see its crude 
 ugliness widen and brighten into the New York 
 that was familiar. It was queer to be sitting in a 
 carriage again, to mount the steps of the house, 
 to breathe the warm air as she entered. There 
 were flowers, flowers everywhere, to greet her, 
 masses of them, blooming in the great hall, and 
 in the drawing-room, and at every turn. "You 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 could never have enough of flowers," laughed the 
 old man; "I told them there was to be heaps of 
 flowers to-day for you! And your own nurs- 
 eries are ready for your boy! I've got some real 
 fine toys for him there you'll see. I guess he's 
 too young to play with them yet, but it livened 
 me up to get 'em, and he'll grow." 
 
 "You're good to me!" she faltered, moved. 
 "Somebody had better show nurse" where the 
 rooms are. Where are you, nurse?" 
 
 Nurse was hovering on the threshold, and she 
 came forward but no longer recognisable. Her 
 dignity was gone. Awe transfigured her. Her 
 mouth was open, her cheeks were bloodless, her 
 eyes started from her head; when she spoke, her 
 voice was but a reverential whisper. 
 
 "You had better take Baby upstairs now, nurse 
 they'll show you the way." 
 
 "Yes, madam," she said huskily. 
 
 Unrecognisable still, she crept through the fan- 
 tastic nurseries when Betty followed her. Sup- 
 ported by ivory, cradled in gold, and canopied 
 with rare lace, the babe lay engrossed by his six- 
 penny "soother"; and the mother, viewing him, 
 wished that he were old enough to appreciate. 
 She craved to hear her child approve the differ- 
 ence; it would have encouraged her to witness 
 his delight. Amid the pomp, the babe lay en- 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 225 
 
 grossed by his "soother" no less happy had he 
 lain in London. 
 
 She went down to her own rooms, and the 
 majesty of them startled her now. Yet, like the 
 child, she was failing to enjoy. It was exquisite, 
 it was imperial, but it was not "home." She had 
 contemplated more gaily the bedroom in the 
 Kensington Hotel. On the table was the toilet- 
 service that she had left behind and as she gazed 
 at it her bosom heaved, her eyes grew wide. She 
 sat down, and rested her brow on her hands. 
 
 By and by Mrs. Waldehast ran in to welcome 
 her, and her spirits rose; but Dardy could not 
 stay to dinner, and the evening was passed alone 
 with Lynch. While he exulted over her return, 
 Betty was thinking how perfect it would be if 
 Keith too were present and they were all three 
 happy together. 
 
 "It's like old times to see you there," Lynch 
 kept saying, "like old times!" He rubbed his 
 harsh, yellow hands together, rejoicing. "You 
 won't want to talk much about it yet?" he asked 
 wistfully. 
 
 "Tell me more about Howard," she said. 
 "How long is he going to stay there? I'd like 
 to go to see him." 
 
 "He was writing about coming back a while 
 ago; they were very pleased with his progress. 
 
226 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 But he's been worse again since then more 
 haemorrhage. I'm afraid for Howard; it don't 
 seem to be doing him the good that was expected. 
 I guess he'll never be altogether right again." 
 
 "Do you mean he'll always be an invalid?" 
 she asked, dismayed. 
 
 "I'm afraid," he repeated, with slow nods, "I 
 begin to think we were too late finding out he was 
 sick. . . . It's made me look back, you know, his 
 being like this! He hasn't been much of a son, 
 late years, but I used to have lots of hopes when 
 he was younger. It's made me look back. That's 
 one reason why I'm so glad to have your boy." 
 
 "You've been dull, all alone," she said pity- 
 ingly. 
 
 "Yes, it's been lonesome. This house ain't 
 much good to me, you know two rooms are 
 about all / want now. But I guess I'll brace up 
 now you're back! I'm going to give you a dandy 
 time, make you forget your troubles." 
 
 She sighed. 
 
 "How did you come to quit, Betty?" 
 
 "It was the same thing. I had asked him be- 
 fore and he wouldn't!" 
 
 "Didn't mind your going?" 
 
 "He said himself it must be one thing or the 
 other." 
 
 "The child's illness didn't bring him down?" 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 227 
 
 "He consented to the cable. Of course he 
 wouldn't if he could have helped it." 
 
 "It scared me some when I got it. You were 
 broken up, eh?" 
 
 "It was awful! . . . You see, he said the hun- 
 dred guineas we asked for might have been a 
 loan he said I had no right to have taken more. 
 It was a blessing you were here. I don't know 
 what we'd have done if you had been away." 
 
 "I had fixed that; whenever you cabled for 
 money, you'd have got it, if I was in New York 
 or not." He groaned. "What a pity, poppet, 
 what a pity ! Still, we'll ease it up ; I'll fix that 
 for you too." 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 "What do I mean! I mean I'll make you a 
 free woman. You don't suppose I'm going to see 
 your whole life ruined by that dog? You shall 
 ' divorce him." 
 
 She shivered. 
 
 "He said you'd try." 
 
 "Is that so? Well, I guess his judgment was 
 right for once. I'll do more than 'try'! I'll 
 have a chat with Dorfman to-morrow." 
 
 "I don't think I want you to go to a lawyer 
 yet." 
 
 "Why not?" He peered at her shrewdly, 
 alarmed. 
 
228 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 She didn't speak. 
 
 "Why not?" he said again. "Don't tell me 
 you're weak about him still? You'll never be so 
 crazy as that?" 
 
 "Isn't it all over between us?" she said in a 
 low voice. 
 
 "I want to see a divorce. It was 'all over' once 
 before. 'Tisn't two years ago you told me here 
 you'd never speak to him again as long as you 
 lived and the next I heard about it was that 
 you were going to be married. See here, if I 
 work it for you, there'll be no such great harm 
 done after all. You've had two rough years, but 
 you can cut your losses you can marry an Eng- 
 lish aristocrat all the same. The boy won't get 
 the title, but he'll have plenty of money I'll see 
 to that and you'll be just as fond of the heir." 
 
 "Don't," she begged, "don't! I can't bear it." 
 
 "What's wrong? He'll be your son as well, 
 won't he? And by a better man! You can love 
 two children, can't you?" 
 
 "I should never marry, whatever happened." 
 
 "You have heaps of time to change your views. 
 You'll meet a man that's good enough one day." 
 
 "I'd never give my child a stepfather, in any 
 case." 
 
 "When you like the man, you'll think differ- 
 ent. It doesn't pay to make too many sacrifices 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 229 
 
 for your children ; they grow up, and you're liable 
 to get left. When your boy was old enough to 
 quit you for some girl, and you were too old to 
 get the man back, I guess you'd say you had done 
 a poor deal. One of these days you'll want to 
 marry again, and I mayn't be here to hustle for 
 you then. Get your divorce while I'm with you 
 to engineer the evidence. Anyhow, you're better 
 off free." 
 
 But the subject was abhorrent to her, and 
 though he harped on it all the evening, and re- 
 curred to it many times during the next few 
 days, she would not agree to his going to his so- 
 licitor. 
 
 He, on his side, would not agree to her leaving 
 him to travel to Howard so soon, and the days 
 glittered with new colour. If she had found no 
 excitement in the dazzling change, she would have 
 been more than human; she would have been 
 more than human if there had not been hours 
 in which she laughed, and thrust remembrance 
 from her when it clawed. Lynch had opened an 
 account for her at his bank, and once more her 
 means were unlimited; once more she ordered 
 lavish entertainments, and went to others. Os- 
 tensibly she was staying with her father for two 
 or three months, and the circumstances of her 
 marriage had been sufficiently sensational for ac- 
 
230 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 quaintances to spare her tactless questions. Her 
 New York was curious, but discreet. 
 
 Soon it was only to Dardy that she spoke of 
 Keith, and she did not speak very often of him to 
 her. In their first long talk, Dardy had also 
 counselled her to divorce him, and it had been 
 difficult to explain why she shuddered at the idea. 
 
 Why was it that she shuddered? Well, it 
 would mean perjuring herself. Though she had 
 been reared in a world where no one was ex- 
 pected to utter the truth when it was against his 
 interests, the last two years had shown her that 
 there was another world, where people esteemed 
 cuteness less and honour more. That was one 
 reason. Also, she knew instinctively that she 
 would feel worse afterwards than she did now, 
 more contemptuous of herself more blank. 
 
 Oh, but she didn't want to think about it ! She 
 would have the carriage round and go and scatter 
 some more money. She'd make up a luncheon 
 party for Sherry's, and go to see a musical com- 
 edy in the evening, and have a good time after- 
 wards at the Zeislers* ball. . . . Only, one 
 couldn't have a very good time when the right 
 man wasn't there. Idiot! Was she going to 
 squander her youth regretting? She had pined 
 in her cage, and now she was sentimentalising 
 when she had escaped. "Betty," she advised her- 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 self earnestly, "for the love of sense, be consist- 
 ent, my dear! You've got what you wanted, and 
 still you aren't happy. Nobody but me would 
 have any patience with youl" 
 
 Was she already forgetting the waiter with the 
 grubby shirt-front? the chilly entrees, stiffening 
 in their gravy? the white sauce of Albion for the 
 flabby fish, and the white sauce of Albion for the 
 Appendicitis pudding? More than all, was she 
 forgetting the third room? No, memory dis- 
 played them to her in the theatres, in the stores, 
 in the whirligig of waste that was her life. It had 
 been shocking, odious, bitter! She repeated it. 
 She wouldn't idealise the execrable because it 
 was past! But she had been unjust to Richard. 
 This she came to see now. Once she said so to 
 Dardy, when they were driving. 
 
 "You know, he did all he could for me, but 
 make the one concession," she said. "He gave 
 me every mortal thing I asked, outside that. If 
 he hadn't indulged me so much, we should still 
 be together." 
 
 "How do you make that out?" 
 
 "He would have had plenty of money for 
 Baby's illness, and we shouldn't have had to cable. 
 It was the cable that brought about the separa- 
 tion brought about the climax, anyhow. And 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 it wasn't his fault that we had to send it, it was 
 the fault of my extravagance." 
 
 "It's lucky you were extravagant, then! It's 
 no good, I can't pretend I'm sorry you're here, 
 Betty. Only I do want you to see the business 
 through! It isn't through like this you're not 
 maid, wife, nor widow. Besides, he can't oppose 
 a divorce it's only fair to you that he should let 
 you get it." 
 
 "I can't see that I've any claim on him that 
 way," said Betty. "Between you and me, I think 
 he's got more to complain about than I have; 
 I've got Baby." 
 
 "Men aren't wrapt up in babies the same as we 
 are." 
 
 "Dick was wrapt up in ours." 
 
 "And he has his profession. He'll be able to 
 take it easier now ; his expenses will be less with- 
 out you." 
 
 "That's true," said his wife mournfully. "He'll 
 do better work now I'm gone. He had to paint 
 down for me; I was a drag on his genius from 
 the start." 
 
 Dardy Waldehast's nose turned to one side. 
 
 "I never heard he was a 'genius' before!" 
 
 "You never heard anything about art at all, 
 that's why! You don't know a picture from a 
 frying-pan, excepting by their prices." 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 238 
 
 "Thank you." 
 
 "No, and you don't." 
 
 "And how much have you learnt about 'art* 
 in five minutes?" 
 
 "Dardy," she said, touching her friend's hand, 
 "since I went away I've learnt more about art, 
 and about Real Life, than all the women at the 
 dance last night lumped together." 
 
 "Better take care you don't bust," said Dardy 
 pleasantly. 
 
 "Oh, you may chip me, but it's true. I'm be- 
 ginning to see how much I did learn. I'm begin- 
 ning to see how much I lacked lack. I've had 
 no ideals." 
 
 "If you have any more virtues, you'll be im- 
 possible." 
 
 "Every one of those women, Dardy, had some- 
 thing higher than I havel" 
 
 "I thought you just said they were infants by 
 comparison?" 
 
 "I'm talking about the women in the studios 
 and the attics they called 'flats.' They weren't 
 all clever, but they all lived for something they 
 expected to do, or to see their husbands do. They 
 all had an aim in life. I've no aim, except to 
 make my baby happy and perhaps I haven't 
 gone the right road to do that." 
 
234 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 "I don't know what there is to worry you about 
 the baby." 
 
 "I'm not worrying. But I've wondered once 
 or twice." 
 
 "Wondered what?" 
 
 "Well, suppose he grows up like Richard? 
 The money won't compensate him for the dis- 
 grace." 
 
 "Disgrace?" 
 
 "He'll think it a disgrace if he's like his father. 
 He'll be brought up an American, and he'll love 
 his country with all his heart and soul. He'll 
 want to paint for it, or to legislate for it, or to 
 fight for it; or to work for its glory somehow; 
 America will be a Religion to him. That's how 
 Richard feels about England. A boy who felt 
 the same way about America wouldn't be very 
 grateful to me for having suckled him on his na- 
 tion's blood. He'd tell me that he would rather 
 have been poor." 
 
 After a stare of dismay, the other woman said 
 encouragingly : 
 
 "I don't suppose he will be like your husband; 
 he'll grow up to take a different view of things." 
 
 Betty's eyes were more mournful still : "Y-e-s." 
 
 "And, anyhow," continued Dardy, "isn't that 
 tall talk rather rats, considering? You're going 
 grand slam on 'the nation's blood' yourself, you 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 235 
 
 know ! I don't want to rub it in, but your father 
 has made it very soft for you. It's a bit thin to 
 spout heroics and go a splurge on his money at 
 the same time." 
 
 "Don't you think I know it?" exclaimed Betty. 
 "I'm the meanest skunk that ever lived! I know 
 that ! I know my father deserves to be loved by 
 me, at any rate, and I'm ashamed that I don't 
 love him more, and I've hated myself for it since 
 I've been back. But you can't force your love, 
 and you can't quell your love ; you've got to take 
 it as it is, like the sun in the sky. I'm a fraud. 
 I want to be good, and I haven't got the grit, 
 that's what's the matter with me! When I do 
 right, I'm miserable; and when I'm wicked, I'm 
 not at peace either. There's no place in the world 
 for such a shilly-shally to be happy in!" 
 
 "You were all right before you met this man 
 you had none of these crazy notions then." 
 
 "That isn't so; you know it isn't. I've had 
 the thoughts always. He only strengthened 
 them. But they usedn't to come so often. They 
 didn't come so often even when I was with him. 
 While I was hankering after the dollars, I didn't 
 seem to feel they were so guilty. But now I've 
 
 got them again, and I'm spending them, and 
 
 Oh, Dardy, the truth's beastly close!" 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 GONE! No letter from her, no line. For 
 weeks he had nursed hope of an olive twig, the 
 merest hint. Gone marriage, fatherhood, every 
 aim but art that he had known during the two 
 years that counted most ! Once he had lived alone 
 and asked for nothing better; to-day his spirit 
 listened for her voice, and waited for his child's 
 in every waking hour. Once he had called it 
 peace to be alone; to-day he called it desolation. 
 
 Wrench up a life by its roots and bid it bear 
 flowers 1 Only his art remained, and as yet he 
 could not paint. 
 
 The flat was shut. He would never enter it 
 again. If he could find someone to relieve him 
 of its burden, he would try to work in the country. 
 In the meantime, the additional expense of ac- 
 commodation there forbade the plan. He stayed 
 in London, and lived at the studio. 
 
 Gone ! Wretched as he was, he did not delude 
 himself. He was not longing for the woman that 
 she had become, but he was in love with the 
 woman that she used to be or seemed to be ; had 
 
 236 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 237 
 
 briefly been! Remembrance gave her back to 
 him in many scenes, and all were early scenes. 
 Sometimes he communed with her in dreams, and 
 woke with the magic of her presence still cling- 
 ing to his senses. To wake was to lose again. 
 And the Betty he had just seen lived in his 
 dreams only now! He felt that bereavement 
 by change was more poignant than bereavement 
 by death. 
 
 He spent the evenings smoking alone, or roam- 
 ing about the streets. To his club he had gone 
 seldom since his marriage, and now he shunned 
 it rigidly. Nothing would induce him to allude 
 to the circumstances let time reveal them! 
 Everybody had told him he was a fool at the 
 beginning, and, among themselves, men would 
 say worse of him henceforward. Such sympathy 
 as people had to spare would of course be given 
 to her the victim of his high-flown ideas. Well, 
 Heaven knew she was welcome to it! For that 
 matter, he would far rather she received sym- 
 pathy than blame. Yet he felt it to be a little 
 hard that, suffering as he was, he must figure in 
 the world's eyes as a husband without affections, 
 a brute who had sacrificed his wife and child on 
 the altar of his vanity. 
 
 We judge humanity by the few humans we 
 have known. Keith had known none to say to 
 
238 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 him, "You are right." No man had owned, 
 "You are practising only what we preach to be 
 consistent, we should all have to do the same." 
 On the contrary, Lynch's censors had counselled 
 his son-in-law to take his money. Keith had no 
 hope that the world would be just. 
 
 Of course he said that he didn't care, that his 
 plight was too black to be darkened; but we all 
 want justice, and he did care. When necessity 
 drove him to an easel at last, work, by very slow 
 degrees, yielded his only solace. The sketches 
 of his wife, which he had removed from the flat, 
 faced him on the walls Betty in a white dinner- 
 gown, and in a rose peignoir, and coiling her hair 
 before a mirror; Betty saying, "Mr. Keith, You 
 will please Take Me Back to the Room" each 
 of them a reminder and a pang. The sight of 
 them hurt him so much that he huddled them 
 all into a corner one day; but their banishment 
 hurt him so much that he put them back again. 
 
 And meanwhile his wife, too, was lonely, al- 
 though she lived in crowds. It was painful to 
 discover that Dardy and she were not such chums 
 as they had been. Like the women on the boat, 
 the friend of her girlhood seemed very limited 
 now. When Betty was earnest, Dardy was 
 bored; and when Dardy was vivacious, the sub- 
 ject was not very interesting to Betty. 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 239 
 
 When she had been back a month, she insisted 
 on going to see Howard without further delay. 
 Lynch professed to be unable to leave New York 
 just then, and she travelled to Colorado with her 
 maid. 
 
 In truth, she had been less eager to see Howard 
 than to withdraw from the social world, and 
 here again she reproached herself for coldness. 
 It was queer that the only real love that she had 
 felt had been given to the husband whom she 
 had deserted and the son who might live to con- 
 demn her ! 
 
 "I've had the thoughts always he only 
 strengthened them." It was true. She wondered 
 if, without his influence, they would have grown 
 to daunt her as they did to-day. Most likely 
 not she would have become callous, like Dardyl 
 But she had met him while she was still impres- 
 sionable. Now they were supreme. 
 
 And also she had come to see that the shame 
 of the money was not her only shame she saw 
 that, even if her luxury had been honest, it would 
 have been insufficient to content her apart from 
 him. In the solitude of the night had she made 
 these meditations? She had made them no less 
 often in the crowds where bands were playing. 
 The perception of her mind and soul's develop- 
 ment had come to the woman at all hours. It had 
 
240 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 trespassed upon ballrooms and intruded into res- 
 taurants. 
 
 And while she travelled to her brother, she 
 thought what the landscape would have meant 
 to Keith. 
 
 The journey was very tedious to her and 
 she reflected that to him it would have been a 
 novelty to travel in such a train. They reached 
 Fernando Prospect on Tuesday, many hours 
 late. It was ten o'clock in the evening when 
 they entered the ramshackle station, but the con- 
 veyance was waiting to take her to the hotel. A 
 warm wind raged, as if to sweep the little town 
 to ruins. She saw a belated fruit-seller clinging 
 breathlessly to palings for support; her stand 
 had been overturned, and the road was ruddy 
 with fruit. Sweeping and volleying, the wind 
 fought the carriage as the horses ploughed for- 
 ward. It looked to her a strange spot for the 
 cure of phthisis. 
 
 At the hotel she learnt that the wind was 
 "dropping now," and she wondered what its force 
 had been originally. 
 
 Early next day she was at the sanatorium, and 
 in the reception-room it was broken to her that 
 the case was hopeless Howard was dying fast. 
 She was told that a letter had been posted to 
 Lynch just before the receipt of the telegram 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 announcing her departure. Even under the 
 shock, she realised that, from mercenary consid- 
 erations, much of the truth had been withheld 
 hitherto that the patient had been too profitable 
 to be relinquished. But it was no time to make 
 reproaches. 
 
 The wasted face that turned to her on the pil- 
 low was a sermon on the wasted life. 
 
 "Ah, Betty," he said tonelessly. 
 
 The nurse left her alone with him, and she 
 drew a chair to his side. Beyond the bed, all 
 was sweet air and flowers. Colorado was fair 
 this morning. Her view was a peaceful yellow 
 world that, and the gaunt face of the dying 
 man. 
 
 He did not know that he couldn't recover; he 
 talked of "getting out of this hole before long 
 coming back." Often as he dwelt on his symp- 
 toms, she noticed that he never spoke of the "dis- 
 ease" it was always the "illness." Yet he seemed 
 to understand that he could never again be quite 
 as other men, and his first allusion to her mar- 
 riage was coupled with a lament for himself. 
 
 "We've both made a mess of it, old girl," he 
 said, "eh?" 
 
 Fits of coughing interrupted his speech and 
 left him very tired. He had had a bad night, 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 so she had been advised not to stay long. But 
 she returned in the afternoon. 
 
 He had become very peevish and exacting, 
 and she admired the gentleness with which the 
 nurse answered when he grumbled at her. Was 
 she so kind when no one else was there? Betty 
 asked. Yes, he had praise for his nurse strange 
 praise on Howard's lips: "She's a real good 
 woman!" he said. She was young, and refined 
 many less attractive girls expected to make 
 great matches. Though there was nothing singu- 
 lar about her, she was extraordinary to Lynch' s 
 daughter, who contrasted the arduous life with 
 her own. 
 
 "You have a great deal to do, nurse," she re- 
 marked on the morrow. Howard was sleeping, 
 and they were together in the adjoining parlour. 
 
 Nurse Emery looked gratified. 
 
 "I wonder you think so what you see isn't 
 much! The visitors don't see the work. As a 
 rule, visitors think a nurse's life is very 'pretty.' ' 
 
 "I think it must be terrible," said Betty. "Are 
 you an enthusiast?" 
 
 "I would rather do this than anything else I 
 am capable of." 
 
 " I meant, did you go in for it just for the love 
 of it? I know there are girls who do." 
 
 The head-shake was prompt and cheerful. 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 243 
 
 "Oh, no, Mrs. Keith; I'm not a heroine I had 
 to make a living, and I chose the way I liked 
 best, that's all." 
 
 "Does it lead to anything? is there anything 
 to look forward to?" 
 
 "Why, no; I expect I'll be nursing as long as 
 I'm strong enough." 
 
 "And yet you seem so contented?" said Betty 
 wistfully. 
 
 "Well, I've got to make a living somehow," 
 repeated the girl; "whatever I did, it'd mean 
 work. And this way, I'm helping other people 
 at the same time. That keeps one's heart up; 
 there's some pull about that!" 
 
 "Yes," murmured Betty, "there must be some 
 pull about that!" But she wasn't so sure of her 
 being no heroine. 
 
 She went each morning to the sanatorium. She 
 sat daily in her brother's rooms, overhanging 
 the yellow, smiling landscape, that looked so re- 
 mote from death sat learning to be patient, re- 
 calling his childhood, enduring his hopes. 
 
 His body was taken to New York. 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE old are frightened when the young die. 
 Though Lynch's love for his son had grown less 
 as the boy grew older, his consternation was deep 
 far too deep for Betty to startle him yet with 
 the thoughts thronging her mind. 
 
 She lived very quietly now, and the retirement 
 was welcome to her. But retirement could not 
 still her memories of Keith, it could not pacify 
 her conscience. She had failed. She was bring- 
 ing up his child on the wealth that he condemned, 
 and she revolted at the knowledge. 
 
 Defenceless, for she had admitted his right to 
 condemn! She had chosen evil seeing it to be 
 evil, chosen it with her eyes open, understanding 
 all except the latent truth within herself. 
 
 They owed it to this wealth that their child 
 lived! Inscrutable! It might be that the very 
 dollars which saved him had cost the life of an- 
 other. Well, if it was heinous so to save one's 
 child, she took the sin upon her soul, as Keith 
 had done, without repentance. But afterwards? 
 No obscurity there! The facts blazed fiercely. 
 
 244 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 245 
 
 Not gratitude nor necessity could be her plea. 
 She had sinned because she was a coward. She 
 had pillaged for her own ends. 
 
 From Lynch she must at present withhold her 
 intention, and she had to unburden her mind to 
 someone. 
 
 "I mean to go back," she said to Dardy two 
 or three weeks after the funeral. 
 
 "I thought you would," said Dardy, with a 
 shrug. "What good do you think that will do?" 
 
 "For one thing, it will make me happier." 
 
 "It won't last any longer this time than it did 
 before it won't last so long!" 
 
 "I mean it to last all my life this time. And 
 it will it's different now." 
 
 "I don't see where the difference comes in." 
 
 "Before, I had no idea what it would be like; 
 now, I know just what I've got to expect." 
 
 "And you know you weren't able to stand it! 
 Why should you stand it any better now? It's 
 easy to be courageous while you're safe. Wait 
 till you get back you'll find it all as impossible 
 as ever! ... If you had let your father do as he 
 wanted, you'd have spared yourself all this kind 
 of thing. Get comfortably divorced, and you'll 
 know where you are you'll feel settled then. 
 And much better for your husband, too! He'd 
 know this resolution of yours wouldn't wash. It's 
 
246 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 a muddling sort of life for a man to have a wife 
 always saying 'Farewell for ever,' and 'Here I 
 am again!' If you returned to him to-morrow, 
 you don't suppose he'd believe in your promises?" 
 
 "No," said Betty, "he couldn't believe in them 
 a little bit ; I've given myself away too much for 
 that. No, I've thought all that out. If I went 
 back to him now, it'd be a big mistake he'd 
 have no faith in me, and I'd have no right to ex- 
 pect it. It'd be a sham homecoming, and that 
 would be horrible! But it isn't what I mean to 
 do. I mean to educate myself first." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "I have got to live like that alone. Then 
 when I go back to him, there'll be no doubts to 
 spoil our meeting. I intend to go to him as a 
 wife who has proved herself; I am going to be 
 able to say, 'I have done it, so I know that I can 
 do it!' Only it'd be cruel to leave here so soon 
 after Howard's death I must wait a month or 
 two." 
 
 "You're going to live like that alone?" cried 
 Dardy. "How? What are you going to live on 
 'genteel poverty' from your father? If you 
 can accept a little, you can accept a lot the 
 money isn't any purer taken in small quantities." 
 
 "I am not going to have anything at all from 
 my father I shall manage on mj own money. 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 847 
 
 If I live in England and I want to be in Eng- 
 land it'll mean nearly two pounds a week. 
 There are plenty of women there who live on 
 less." 
 
 Dardy Waldehast opened her mouth as if to 
 exclaim, but regarded her friend in helpless si- 
 lence. At last she said feebly: 
 
 "Two pounds a week?" 
 
 "Plenty of women there live on less," repeated 
 Betty. "Why shouldn't I? I'm not a fool." 
 
 "Women! What sort of women? There are 
 women who tell fortunes with birds on the side- 
 walk. What's that got to do with you? You 
 must be out of your head? You don't know how 
 to tell fortunes with birds or live on two pounds 
 a week, do you?" 
 
 "No, no better than you, Dardy. But I'm 
 going to learn not how to tell fortunes with 
 birds, I have no use for the accomplishment 
 but how to make myself a real wife for the man 
 I married. That's the object of my life and 
 I'll put up with some pretty rough times to suc- 
 ceed. Don't make a mistake: I'm quite aware 
 what two pounds a week will be to mel I was 
 frightened on ten on two, I shall feel as lost 
 as both the Babes in the Wood at the start. But 
 I know lhat shoals of women do contrive on that 
 and gentlewomen and what they are capable 
 
248 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 of doing, I will become capable of doing. I don't 
 choose to remain inferior to any woman living; 
 I don't choose to lose my husband and my self- 
 respect because other women know more than 
 I do." 
 
 Dardy groaned. 
 
 "You'd be less demented to go right back to 
 him! You in London, on two pounds a week? 
 Hanging out the washing on the tenement bal- 
 cony?" 
 
 "I'm not going to live in London; I'll go to 
 the country, where it's cheaper, and the air will 
 be better for Baby. I'll have rooms in a village. 
 Why, we knew people who looked forward to 
 rooms in a village somewhere it was their New- 
 port; they were 'lucky' the summer they could 
 afford to go." 
 
 "Some people are lucky the summer they go 
 hopping. It all depends what you're used to. 
 Your plan's farce. The baby prevents it right 
 away your nurse wouldn't stay with you." 
 
 "Of course she won't stay I won't be able 
 to pay her wages. I'll take nurse back to Eng- 
 land, but we shall part in town." 
 
 "You're going to be his nurse yourself?" 
 
 "I'm going to be his Mother. That's just part 
 of the education. I've adored my baby, but I 
 haven't done anything worth a cent for him. 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 249 
 
 Well, I'm going to begin. And he'll love me 
 better for it soon, too! I had my first lesson last 
 night ; she thought it was a caprice, but it would 
 never do for him to be left dependent on me 
 while I could only kneel down and worship when 
 he was dressed to kill. Dardy, I tell you he 
 seemed more my own son in the five minutes that 
 I was splashing his little duck of a body in that 
 bath last night than he had done in all the months 
 since he was born! I was covered up in nurse's 
 big apron, and he rolled on my lap like a little 
 wet cherub, and I couldn't dry him for joy." 
 
 "Betty, it won't work!" 
 
 "It has to work. The only thing I'm wonder- 
 ing is how I'm going to take him out I'm not 
 keen on pushing a baby-carriage. But perhaps 
 in the country I could get a girl to come and do 
 that for a trifle. I'd go with her to see that 
 nothing happened." 
 
 "Are you proposing to make your own bed 
 and cook your own dinner, too?" 
 
 "Xo; in English 'apartments' there's a 'land- 
 lady' who does that." 
 
 "Just as well to be thorough while you're about 
 it, don't you think?" said Dardy drily. 
 
 "I mean to be thorough. My aim is to learn 
 what I need to know. If I learn how to content 
 myself on two pounds a week, I'll have done all 
 
250 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 that's necessary, and more he never asked me 
 to live on so little." 
 
 "And how long do you give yourself to learn 
 it?" 
 
 "Well, I can't say that. I expect it'll be hard." 
 
 "Yes, I should say it would! You've been 
 wasting money all your life, Betty you don't 
 imagine you can become somebody else because 
 you want to? Your intentions are all right I 
 appreciate them, from a distance but you can't 
 dye your nature another colour in a few months 
 with a course of noble intentions." 
 
 "I'm not thinking of a few months," said Betty 
 pensively; "I'm hoping I may get used to it in 
 about a year. When I go, there'll be another 
 dividend towards the passage money and I'll 
 travel cheap. A year's a long time. Say there 
 were three months to despond in, and three to be- 
 gin to lift my head up ; then I'd have six months 
 left to get cheerful. I don't think that's too san- 
 guine?" 
 
 "Aren't you overlooking that you had about 
 twice as long to get cheerful and couldn't do it ? 
 On more than two pounds a week!" 
 
 "Yes I mean 'no'; I'm not overlooking it; 
 I've said that myself ! But I have altered through 
 good intentions and perhaps more through bad 
 mistakes. It may be just as well that I came 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 251 
 
 back if I hadn't come back I might always 
 have craved for it. I've realised myself here. 
 I shall never crave any more, because I've found 
 it doesn't make me happy now I've got it. And 
 that 'twice as long' was education too. I know 
 now it wasn't all wasted, though it seemed to be. 
 And there's another thing on top of that : I had 
 Dick to indulge me before, and I wasn't earnest 
 enough to say, 'Don't do it.' This time I shall 
 stand alone; this time there can't be any com- 
 promise in any moment I've either got to learn 
 the lesson, every line of it, or be ashamed as long 
 as I live. I'm fighting for the Right. Why, I'm 
 so sure I'll win at the finish, that the worst part 
 of it all won't be the struggle it'll be letting 
 Dick think that I'm still here without a con- 
 science. I can't help that. I daren't let him hear 
 from me till I'm through, however long it takes." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "Because it'd be the end of my plan he'd 
 make me go back to him before I ought, and be- 
 fore he truly wanted me again. He shall have 
 faith in me before I go! I don't allow my hus- 
 band to 'rescue' me out of pity. He's got to 
 come and want me as he never wanted me in all 
 his days to be in love with my soul as well as 
 my face; he's got to feel that I'm just the one 
 thing in this world that could make life worth 
 
2S2 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 living for him." The dimple confirmed the chin 
 "And then it'll be good enough !" 
 
 Dardy was glad that the news wasn't to be 
 broken to Lynch yet in a month or two the 
 fervour might subside. But she shuddered. 
 Though she had scoffed at the project and called 
 it "farce," something in her an instinct of her 
 earlier self had been impressed. The earlier 
 self believed, so the later woman was alarmed. 
 
 It was more than two months afterwards, the 
 night that Betty broached the matter to her 
 father. He brooded less on Howard's death. 
 The fascination of finance, the subject of her 
 divorce, were again dominant in his mind. She 
 felt that it must be now or never that she told 
 him. But it punished her to deal the blow. With 
 her deeper comprehension of herself, she entered 
 more fully into the feelings of others. At once 
 less artful and less shallow than she had been, 
 she understood what the parting would be to him. 
 Development is the gift of events, not of time. 
 The girl had gone who only two years ago had 
 told him carelessly that she meant to take a trip 
 to Europe, when she meant to meet her lover on 
 the steamer. The Betty of to-day could have 
 done that no more than she could have lost sight 
 of her purpose to chatter about curling-irons in 
 the stateroom. 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 253 
 
 "Father," she said, "I have got to say some- 
 thing that will make you feel bad. I am missing 
 my husband." 
 
 It seemed to Lynch that his heart sank slowly 
 till it lay a weight in his stomach. He blinked 
 at her silently. 
 
 Then he said : 
 
 "You ain't missing him, honey ; you've got the 
 hump, that's all. It's natural you can't have 
 any gaiety now. We'll put that to rights before 
 long, though; hold on a bitl" 
 
 "It isn't that. I'm thankful to have no gaiety. 
 I've been missing him from the day I sailed. It 
 was more than a little to get away from the gaiety 
 that I went to Fernando Prospect. You see 
 you see, I love him! That's the whole story." 
 
 "What's the good of loving him when he won't 
 climb down? I want you to be happy, you know 
 that, but it don't rest with me. When you told 
 me, at the start, you thought so much about him, 
 I said, 'Well, you shall marry him, then!' Didn't 
 I? It wasn't what I aimed at for you, but I 
 knuckled under. I'm ready to knuckle under 
 now, but what can I do? If it was him that was 
 talking, instead of you, I'd soon fix things ; but if 
 you make the move, it isn't easy to make the con- 
 ditions." 
 
 "I don't want any conditions," she said. 
 
254 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 "That's the part that's going to hurt you most, 
 -but I've got to say it I know he's right." 
 
 He didn't start, but his gaze widened at space. 
 Again there were seconds before he spoke. 
 
 "See here, he has put his principles first, not 
 you. Some people might deduce that he's not 
 attached to you I don't now, I've lived too long. 
 But, in your own interests, try to answer this 
 straight is he as fond of you as you are of him? 
 If that's so, we'll get him over on some pretext 
 cable him you're sick and I'll fix matters 
 then, or you may call me a fool." 
 
 She demurred in a low voice, "I don't want 
 them 'fixed.' I mean it to end his way. That's 
 real. No one can alter it. It'll pain us both for 
 nothing if you try. I've meant it for months, but 
 I couldn't tell you before. Father, it has got 
 to be!" 
 
 Lynch put out his hand mechanically for a 
 cigar, and bit off the point, and struck a match- 
 all slowly, still with the unseeing stare. The 
 match burnt to his fingers before he thought to 
 raise it. He let it fall and took the cigar from 
 his mouth. 
 
 "W-e-11!" he said submissively. 
 
 "I want to go at once. I'm going to stay in 
 the country there first I have got to learn how 
 to do better before I meet him. I want you to 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 255 
 
 send me the interest on my own money to live 
 on." 
 
 "Are you remembering what it is?" 
 
 "Yes. I'm going to send nurse away; I'm go- 
 ing to live like a poor woman. I shan't write to 
 him while I'm there; I must qualify myself for 
 our life together first. If you find out where he 
 is and give him my address, you'll ruin the only 
 chance of happiness that I have left. It would 
 be no use my going to him till I'm ready." 
 
 "If you can live on ten dollars a week, you're 
 ready now," moaned Lynch. 
 
 "No, I'll find it very rough on ten dollars a 
 week for a long time. I shan't be ready till I 
 find it smooth." 
 
 "Betty," he sobbed shrilly, "I can't bear you 
 to do it!" Tears gushed from his eyes. "You're 
 all I've got now. For God's sake!" 
 
 "I must," she said. 
 
 "Don't quit me like that to know you're in 
 want. Think what I'll feel!" The next instant 
 the bent figure shot upright, he stood erect, livid, 
 terrible in fear. "What when you get it all ?" he 
 gasped; "when I die?" 
 
 She slowly shook her head. 
 
 "You must I" The man was a tempest, raving, 
 overwhelming her. "When I'm dead, it'll be 
 yours now, all you must!" 
 
256 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Do you know what you're saying? There's 
 no one else you must!" 
 
 "I can't, I wouldn't! Don't leave it to me" 
 
 "Who then?" 
 
 "The nation!" she begged. "Make amends!" 
 
 "Amends?" he screamed. "For what? To 
 Hell with the nation ! My life's work to my flesh 
 and blood!" 
 
 "I'd do what's right. Why not you? it'll cost 
 you nothing. If you leave it to me, I'll never 
 touch it, I swear to Heaven I won't ! Then why 
 not you? Do it yourself. Why not? Let them 
 say, 'At the end he did good' !" 
 
 "Do I care what they say? did I ever care? 
 shall I care when I'm dead? My life's what mat- 
 ters what's my life if I know you'll refuse my 
 money when I'm gone? It's the work of sixty 
 years you talk of wasting. Betty, you'll be one 
 of the richest women on earth kings and queens 
 will envy you. He won't ask you to refuse when 
 I'm gone it's me, my name, that's the trouble. 
 When I'm gone, he'll 'forget' where it all came 
 from. Pay a million pounds to charities no- 
 body'll criticise the rest. A million all the 
 world'll 'forget' for it!" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "You shall!" he shrieked. "It's my lifetime 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 257 
 
 you're pitching away. Pay two millions, three 
 millions pay ten millions if you like you can 
 be called a 'Saint' for ten millions! You shall 
 keep the rest you shall!" 
 
 "No!" she cried and he struck, frenzied, at 
 her white face. 
 
 Their eyes met aghast. He dropped into a 
 chair, a quivering, shrunk old man. 
 
 "I didn't know I was going to do it I didn't 
 know!" 
 
 Her arm went round his neck. "It doesn't 
 matter I understand." 
 
 "I've struck you! I've struck my girl! Betty, 
 my honey, forgive me!" He fondled her hand 
 convulsively "I've struck my girl! Lovey, I 
 didn't know what I was doing, I'm broken up. 
 Betty, you'll take it back? Have mercy! Think 
 what it means to me ! My brains, my schemes for 
 nothing ruin, from you!" 
 
 "I can't take it back," she groaned, "you know, 
 you know I can't!" 
 
 "I know? I wish I'd died before you could 
 tell me! What have I to hope for, what's left? 
 All the work of my life scattered ! Have you got 
 no feeling?" His sobs tore his chest. "O my 
 God, I never was hard in my home, but it has 
 always been my children who've made me 
 suffer!" 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 IT had been a pitiful leave-taking. She had 
 instructed the bankers to close her account, and 
 to transfer the balance to her father's; she had 
 set her foot upon the narrow way. But she wore 
 no crown of righteousness to mark her dignity, 
 she knew no glow of virtue to light her path. As 
 she had said, she understood and to understand 
 was to suffer. She knew that he ranked her now, 
 must always rank her, among his enemies and of 
 all his enemies the worst. In his eyes, she was 
 without defence ; she was a daughter who had re- 
 paid devotion by a callous wrong. When she had 
 been weak, his home, his fortune, his arms, all 
 had been open to her; now that she had gained 
 strength, she had laid waste the achievement of 
 his life. 
 
 Perforce! She had had to deny his plea, or 
 sin towards her conscience, and her husband, and 
 her boy. Now she realised what Keith had suf- 
 fered in denying her own plea. But it seemed 
 to her very cruel that she could not do what was 
 right without breaking a heart. She was not the 
 
 258 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 259 
 
 woman to view herself as an appointed instru- 
 ment of Retribution she was only a very human 
 woman, trying to be good and she sorrowed to 
 feel that, not by the vengeance of the multitude, 
 not by the Hand of God, could her father have 
 been stricken more utterly than by this inevitable 
 blow that was dealt by her. He was left to con- 
 template millions that were useless, a dominion 
 that had crumbled, a palace that was void. Beg- 
 gary itself would have been more merciful if it 
 had spared him his child. The havoc was com- 
 plete. 
 
 It was early April when she arrived in Eng- 
 land. Until it was settled where she was to live, 
 she must retain the nurse, for she could not take 
 the baby with her when she looked for country 
 rooms. For the interval she had thought of a 
 boarding-house in Bloomsbury ; but even heroism 
 may shrink from English boarding-houses or 
 from the boarders. Besides, she might need to 
 stay in town only for a night or two. The re- 
 flection consoled her for the comparative ex- 
 travagance of a cheap hotel where she avoided 
 the nurse's eyebrows. 
 
 Only in a village could she hope for her income 
 to suffice, and her mind had turned to the one 
 Tillage that she knew. The weather next day 
 was favourable if the morning had been wet, 
 
260 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 she was afraid that she might have been cowardly 
 enough to postpone her quest. She left the 
 hotel after breakfast, and took a motor bus to 
 Charing Cross, and a second-class return ticket 
 to Tunbridge Wells. Up to the last minute she 
 had meant to travel "third," but the resolution 
 forsook her at the booking office, and she prom- 
 ised herself to atone for the indulgence by lunch- 
 ing on sponge-cakes. 
 
 And in Tunbridge Wells the sun shone 
 too. 
 
 It was a black-robed, grave-faced Betty who 
 walked across the common into Rusthall, and met 
 at every step the gossamer Betty of the honey- 
 moon. It was a new and nauseous task to knock 
 at cottage doors, where dirty children swarmed, 
 and ask, "What have you to let?" It was appall- 
 ing to discover that the villagers referred to the 
 "season," and "extras," and glibly mentioned 
 "guineas." A milkman rested his pails and rec- 
 ommended her to try Bon Repos in Paradise 
 Road, and she gave him sixpence, and reproached 
 herself for it all the way there. It must be two- 
 pence in future ; she must never forget that again ! 
 But the dumpy villa was so much superior to the 
 costly cottages that she feared the milkman had 
 been deceived in her position. She rang the brass 
 bell diffidently. 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 261 
 
 A servant advanced along the passage oh, the 
 place was beyond her means, she might have 
 known it ! 
 
 Would she step inside? 
 
 Amazing that a white woman could make a 
 room so hideous ! 
 
 The householder entered, wreathed in beams, 
 and beads. 
 
 "Apartments?" Her beam subsided. "Oh no, 
 I never let apartments !" She seemed rather hurt 
 by the suggestion. "I only take P.G.'s." 
 
 "I beg your pardon?" 
 
 "P.G.'s," said the lady ingratiatingly, "er 
 paying guests." 
 
 "Thank you. I am so sorry to have trouoled 
 you for nothing." 
 
 It was a miserable day. There were moments 
 when she sat on a bench and could have cried with 
 disappointment and fatigue. She had pictured 
 herself arranging the matter soon, and peeping 
 at the Happy Valley before she returned; but 
 the hours went by, and the sun went down, and 
 still the multi -millionairess in posse was homeless 
 on the common. 
 
 At the baker's, where she had had her frugal 
 luncheon, she had a late tea, and the baker's 
 daughter, on hearing her difficulties, recommend- 
 ed J"T to try Mrs. Purdie, at 3 Fuchsia Terrace. 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 Mrs. Purdie proved to be a large, untidy, cheer- 
 ful woman who offered an airy bedroom and a 
 little ground-floor parlour, with the use of the 
 harmonium, for fourteen shillings a week. She 
 explained that she had never taken lodgers yet, 
 but that her neighbour, Mrs. Wright, was "put- 
 ting her in the way of things and you'll be quite 
 comfortable with me, my dear!" At this stage, 
 cheerfulness was welcome, and criticism was not 
 acute. Betty settled to go to her on the following 
 afternoon. 
 
 So on the morrow the nurse bound for her 
 parents', in Felixtowe kissed the baby good- 
 bye; and she kissed him with so much emotion 
 that Betty's mouth quivered in parting from her. 
 "I'll give you a perfectly splendid character when 
 I'm written to, nurse," she said, "you may rely on 
 that ! You quite understand that you're not leav- 
 ing me because I don't appreciate you?" She 
 was conscious, however, that "Fuchsia Terrace" 
 did not sound an impressive address. And then 
 the nurse's luggage was put on a cab; and then 
 the other luggage was put on a cab; and last, 
 Betty and her baby went forth together. 
 
 As she carried him down the steps, his solemn 
 eyes seemed to question her; but, as well as if 
 he could express himself, she felt that he agreed 
 with her during the drive. 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 263 
 
 "You know we're doing the square thing," she 
 prattled, "so you'll make it as light as you can for 
 momma, won't you, Ducksums? Don't cry till 
 we get there, if you can help it. When we're 
 alone, we can have a good howl together, but 
 we'll keep up our pluck in front of strangers, my 
 son! And you shan't ever miss your nursie 
 your mother'll be as good, and better, to you all 
 day long." 
 
 He was heavy for his age ; her arms ached amid 
 the confusion of Charing Cross. "Her baby and 
 her baggage give momma plenty to watch, don't 
 they, Richard mine?" she murmured. "Patience, 
 sonny, we'll get through in time. There are 
 green trees at the end, Richard trees, and the 
 Happy Valley!" 
 
 Well, he was only a year old ! If he did fret a 
 little, could she be surprised? "Is it that 'Second' 
 on the door, my sweetheart?" she cooed. "To- 
 day it'd have been 'Third/ if I hadn't taken you; 
 but I couldn't be mean to you after luxuriating 
 yesterday myself. Look on the bright side, Be- 
 lovedy we've got the dusty compartment to our- 
 selves, and that's much to be thankful for!" 
 
 In the fly that took them into Rusthall he fell 
 asleep on her breast, and he wept at being 
 awakened. Their arrival was noisy with his dis- 
 pleasure, and the cheerfulness of Mrs. Purdie, 
 
264 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 and the excitement of anaemic and unsuspecting 
 offspring. Mrs. Pur die bawled that the table was 
 set for tea. The fact was obvious, but she dwelt 
 upon it. She was astonished to hear that he had 
 a bath every night her neighbour, Mrs. Wright, 
 had told her not to supply a bath oftener than 
 once a week. Still, the warm water was provided, 
 and Betty dried him with the solitary towel that 
 was displayed. 
 
 When he slept again, she went down to the 
 sitting-room, leaving both doors open, that she 
 might hear him if he wailed. The flight of stairs 
 between them was short, but she regretted that 
 the two rooms weren't on one floor. She sat by 
 the window and watched the common fade, until 
 the moon rose. And then Mrs. Purdie shut out 
 the moon and brought in a malodorous lamp and 
 the supper. 
 
 "I'd clean forgot about you sitting in the dark! 
 You must holler out if you want anything, my 
 dear. There, I've got a nice bit o' steak for you! 
 It's caught a bit just 'ere" she drew a deprecat- 
 ing and dirty finger over half of it "but it's 
 beautiful and tender." The finger was poked 
 into the middle of the steak three times. 
 
 Silence surprised her; she said, "You're feel- 
 ing a bit done up after your journey, p'raps? 
 Your supper '11 do you good." 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 265 
 
 "I don't think," said Betty, very faintly, "that 
 I am hungry; I think I'd like a biscuit instead." 
 
 "You didn't say nothing yesterday about get- 
 ting biscuits, did you? Still, it's only at the cor- 
 ner; I daresay I can run out for you directly. 
 Anything you want to be comfortable ypu've 
 only got to say. What would you like an 
 arrowroot?" 
 
 "Any kind will do, thank you whatever they 
 keep. Oh, and Mrs. Purdie, I should like some 
 towels, please. Don't take them up now you 
 might wake him. I'll take them myself when I 
 go to bed, if you'll give them to me." 
 
 "There's a towel up there," said the woman, 
 staring. "You don't want another, do you?" 
 
 "Why, yes! One towel between Baby and me 
 isn't very convenient." 
 
 "Well, I dunno." She considered. "Mrs. 
 Wright says that one towel to each room is all 
 that can be expected. It's all Mrs. Wright's in 
 the 'abit of giving, and she's been letting this ten 
 years. . . . Well, there! what's the odds? You 
 shall have another. Have it, my dear, and feel 
 at 'ome! Now, don't leave the steak like that 
 you draw up and make a good supper, do!" 
 
 But she couldn't look at the steak, and the 
 grocer's was shut, so she supped on bread and 
 what was called "butter." Sounds indicated that 
 
266 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 Mrs. Purdie and the anaemic children supped 
 about ten o'clock on the contents of a tin. The 
 typical Englishwoman of the lower middle class 
 is the stupidest thing on two legs ; she spends her 
 life in a kitchen without learning the rudiments of 
 cookery, and she has a baby every year without 
 learning the first rules for rearing a child. 
 
 "Ducksums," said Betty next day, after un- 
 eatable bacon, "this place is impossible. We've 
 made a blunder, and the sooner we recognise it 
 the better. Never waste time, Richard we don't 
 get much. That's a motto from your American 
 mother! What we have to decide is how we're 
 to find other rooms. I can't leave you behind, 
 and your carriage is no good without a girl to 
 wheel it and you can't travel around the coun- 
 ty on my back. My son, take your soother out 
 of your mouth, and attend to business!" 
 
 "Momma!" said the baby. It was his 
 vocabulary. 
 
 "That's so it's for momma to do! Well, we'll 
 go to the first store that sells newspapers, arid see 
 what the advertisements have to tell us. We'll 
 rest on the seats if momma's arms get tired." 
 
 But the local paper was exhibited among the 
 baskets of boots and tins of condensed milk at 
 the corner, so there was no need to rest with him 
 on a seat. 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 267 
 
 She unpacked her writing-case and some of his 
 toys, and forced up the window as high as it 
 would go ; and put the bed pillows on the linoleum 
 floor, for him to play upon. (The horsehair 
 couch boasted only a horse-hair bolster.) When 
 he consented to spare her, she spread the news- 
 paper on the scarlet tablecover, and studied the 
 Apartments column. 
 
 Eureka! One advertisement had been framed 
 to meet her wants. 
 
 "Quaint, attractive sitting-room and bedroom, 
 with attendance (silent) offered in farmhouse, at 
 nominal terms. Pure air, exquisite scenery. 
 Peace within and without. J. M., Mulberry 
 Farm, Atherall, near Hammick, Tunbridge 
 Wells." 
 
 She wrote to "J. M." eagerly, and carried 
 "Ducksums" to the pillar box. 
 
 During the next two days he took the air on 
 the nearest bench, and her mainstay was new- 
 laid eggs, which a tradesman "obliged her with." 
 Then came a reply signed "John Mellish." Mr. 
 Hellish stated that the rent would be fifteen shill- 
 ings a week "undistorted ; I have acquired no 
 skill in vitiating my agreements by the addition 
 of 'Extras.' ' He did not keep a maid-servant, 
 but his niece acted for him as working house- 
 keeper. If Mrs. Keith would graciously make an 
 
268 . .THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 appointment to view the rooms, a trap should 
 meet her at Hammick Station. 
 
 So she made an appointment. And she had 
 to hire a fly from the Unicorn at a cost of two 
 shillings to take her and "Ducksums" into Tun- 
 bridge Wells. But on the Hammick platform 
 was Mr. Mellish. 
 
 "Mrs. Keith?" 
 
 She saw a spare man, with a shock of silver 
 hair and a threadbare velveteen jacket. As he 
 swept off his hat, his finger-nails testified that 
 his labour on the farm was practical; but the 
 clean-shaven, ascetic face suggested the study, 
 not the soil. 
 
 "I have to apologise," he said, lifting the baby 
 into the trap, "for my niece's absence she was 
 summoned to town to-day. But I have done my 
 best ; a friend of ours, a lady from Crowborough, 
 will show you over the place. And my niece re- 
 turns to-night, so the rooms would be available 
 whenever you cared to come." 
 
 "I'd like to come to-morrow, if I come at all," 
 said Betty. "I'm sorry to hear I can't see your 
 niece, though; so much depends on the I shall 
 be so much dependent on her." 
 
 "You'll find her a very tactful and willing 
 woman, I assure you. If you speak to her, she 
 will answer intelligently ; if you don't address her, 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 269 
 
 she will be quiet. You may think I am exagger- 
 ating, if you have had any lengthy experience of 
 apartments, but my niece can positively clear 
 your dinner-table without jarring your nerves." 
 
 "It sounds very nice," she said. "I hope my 
 little son won't make too much noise for your own 
 nerves." 
 
 "Ah," said Mr. Hellish his gestures were 
 courtly "I was alluding to 'noise' a child's 
 voice is music. That reminds me ! I must warn 
 you that I sometimes play in the evening; the 
 piano, which is a poor thing, would be audible in 
 your room. I don't know if you would object to 
 that?" 
 
 "Oh, a piano wouldn't disturb me at all." 
 
 "I am so relieved. Not that I play often; I 
 have no time. Nor, for that matter, have I any 
 gift as an instrumentalist." He waited for her 
 to ask a question, but as she did not, he added, 
 "I simply strum my compositions for my own 
 pleasure; I seldom presume to mar the work of 
 other men." 
 
 "You compose?" she exclaimed. "Now is that 
 so? That is very interesting." 
 
 "Oh !" Having dragged the fact in, his gesture 
 dismissed it as beneath mention. He descanted 
 on music in general. There was apparently no 
 composer living, or dead, in whose work he was 
 
270 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 not steeped. He condemned, he extolled, he ad- 
 vanced new and he informed her "revolution- 
 ary" theories. How much of his oration was 
 brilliance, and how much of it sheer eccentricity, 
 she was unable to judge ; but if the boy had not 
 become restive before they reached the house, she 
 would have thought it worth while taking the 
 journey merely to meet so remarkable a farmer. 
 
 And, compared with the scarlet tablecover and 
 the horse-hair couch, the rooms were ideal. A 
 little shabbier than she had expected, perhaps, but 
 relatively a discovery and a joy. She wished 
 while the visitor was showing them to her that she 
 were installed in them already. And afterwards 
 Mr. Mellish gave them tea, and heated some milk 
 for the baby a distinguished figure, entering in 
 the velveteen jacket, with the saucepan. It was 
 very restful at tea ; it was blessed to feel that her 
 escape from Fuchsia Terrace was planned. Her 
 thankfulness was deep, in the basket-chair over- 
 looking the orchard. 
 
 "Then it is understood?" he asked, during the 
 drive back; "we may expect you to-^morrow or 
 shall we say 'Saturday'?" 
 
 "Well, I'm anxious to get out of my present 
 place immediately, Mr. Mellish. Still, if to-mor- 
 row wouldn't be convenient to you 
 
 "IVe been thinking that another day would 
 
JHE HOUSE OF LYNCH 271 
 
 give my niece more time to have everything in 
 order for you," he explained, "that is all." Yet 
 he seemed anxious that she should agree to Satur- 
 day, so she did so. 
 
 He begged her to let them have a postcard that 
 the trap might be waiting. He murmured final 
 hopes that she would be very comfortable, and 
 went with her into the station. She had only 
 "taken apartments." It sounded a trivial thing; 
 it would have sounded trivial to herself the pre- 
 vious week; but the woman who foresaw a long 
 year in apartments hugged her baby close, as the 
 train started, and thanked Heaven to have 
 "found a home." 
 
 Mrs. Purdie was incapable of crediting the 
 news. That the lady or any other lady could 
 wish to leave her, she regarded as impossible. 
 
 "I am going," repeated Betty, "that is all I 
 have to say. You have had my notice." 
 
 "Xow don't you talk nonsense, my dear!" said 
 Mrs. Purdie, emphatically cheerful. "You'll be 
 all right when you've shaken down, don't you 
 worry about that!" 
 
 And if misgivings assailed her later, she hid 
 them with rare art. Her buoyancy did not desert 
 her till that wet Saturday morning, when the cot 
 was again sewn in its canvas wrappings, and she 
 
272 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 had been into the bedroom and beheld the trunks 
 strapped. Then she complained. 
 
 She said, "You know you took the rooms tell- 
 ing me you was going to be here for months. I 
 expected to have you right through the summer, 
 you know!" 
 
 "Well, you can't expect me to stay if I don't 
 want to? I didn't pledge myself to stay a day 
 longer than it suited me, did I?" 
 
 "I don't know nothing about that," said Mrs. 
 Purdie. "Mrs. Wright says it's a Very 'eavy loss, 
 and you ought to make it up to me' she says she 
 never heard the like ! Mrs. Wright says I ought 
 to 'ave four months' money off you." 
 
 "Well, you can tell Mrs. Wright you didn't 
 get it," said Betty. 
 
 "Oh, well!" She produced the bill. "Come 
 on, there you are! I've charged you a week's 
 money, instead of notice you can't grumble at 
 that, can you? I don't suppose you can afford 
 to pay no more?" 
 
 "That's so," said Betty, "I can't afford to pay 
 so much. But I know that's just. There's a pen, 
 Mrs. Purdie will you kindly give me a receipt?" 
 
 And then the cab from the Unicorn ground on 
 the pebbles, and the trunks were bumped down 
 the narrow stairs. 
 
 The rain pelted, and the changes to-day were 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 273 
 
 numerous, and the porters were dolts. But 
 though she missed the nurse in every moment, 
 she was not discouraged. She was bound for the 
 quaint, attractive rooms, and the tactful woman, 
 and the silent service. "With an orchard, Duck- 
 sums !" she said. "Think of the orchard when the 
 sun shines!" 
 
 The sight of Mr. Hellish was as welcome as if 
 he had been an old friend. 
 
 "We've got here at last!" she exclaimed. "How 
 d'ye do?" 
 
 But somehow Mr. Mellish was less enthusiastic 
 now. 
 
 "I am sorry," he said, clearing his throat, "to 
 have to tell you, Mrs. Keith, that unfortunately 
 there has been a little difficulty since I had your 
 card quite a temporary difficulty, a hitch ! My 
 niece has been delayed in town." 
 
 She stood staring at him on the wet platform, 
 with the baby in her arms, and the trunks, and 
 the bassinette, and the perambulator strewn 
 round her. 
 
 "Well, it was your duty to telegraph to me!" 
 she cried. "What do you imagine I am going 
 to do, arriving at the edge of the world, with 
 nowhere to go?" 
 
 "I have arranged for that, I have arranged 
 for that," he said hurriedly. "I have taken rooms 
 
274 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 for you in the meanwhile just for a week. I am 
 sure, for a week, you won't mind putting up with 
 them? Pear Cottage is primitive, but you will 
 find the people very kindly, very kindly, and 
 you'll pay only twelve shillings there. They quite 
 understand the position; I have explained." 
 
 "Oh !" It was a relief to learn that there would 
 be a roof to shelter her. "Well, please give the 
 address to the porter I don't think all these 
 things will go in the trap." 
 
 She persuaded the porter to follow at once, but 
 she was very disappointed and very vexed; and 
 as Mr. Mellish touched up the mare, she said, 
 "Can you assure me that it will be only for a 
 week? I can't undertake to wait indefinitely." 
 
 "A week precisely!" he declared. "To-day a 
 week the rooms'll be vacant again, and she'll have 
 come back." 
 
 "Oh!" said Betty. "You have let the rooms 
 to somebody else, then, after letting them to me?" 
 
 He looked embarrassed. 
 
 "Just for a week," he admitted. "Because my 
 niece could not return merely for that reason. 
 The present occupants are a gentleman and his 
 wife to them her absence is no drawback. To 
 you, of course, it is er necessary that a woman 
 should be living on the premises. So, in the mean- 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 275 
 
 time, having this offer quite unexpectedly I 
 let the rooms." 
 
 She suspected that he had let them because the 
 gentleman and his wife were more profitable, but 
 he was so extremely courteous, and so highly 
 talented, that she was reluctant to think ill of 
 him. 
 
 She was reluctant to think ill of him even when 
 she saw the make-shift. Opposite the farm gate, 
 across a patch of ragged grass, a little dilapidated 
 cottage dripped among vegetables. The broken 
 path was a rivulet; the door opened into a kit- 
 chen; its floor was bricks. 
 
 "Where is the parlour?" she asked. But it was* 
 a reproach rather than a query ; already she knew 
 that there was no parlour. 
 
 "You will have this practically to yourself," 
 he said deprecatingly. "The accommodation is 
 very limited in Atherall, of course, or I would 
 have done better for you. But during the week 
 you will have this practically to yourself the 
 Duplocks will leave it to you as much as possible. 
 I expect Mrs. Duplock is busy at the back with 
 the poultry if you will excuse me, I'll call her 
 in!" 
 
 She came in as he spoke, a gaunt, hard- 
 featured woman, weather-beaten, and bowed with 
 outdoor toil. 
 
276 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 " 'Afternoon, sir." 
 
 "This is the lady, Mrs. Duplock." 
 * 'Afternoon, marm." 
 
 "I've told Mrs. Keith that you will make her 
 as comfortable as you can while she's with you. 
 They are bringing her luggage up. Oh" he 
 turned to Betty "Saturday is a bad day for meat 
 in the village; will you allow me to send you in 
 one of my fowls for dinner to-morrow? And I 
 have a modest library if you will let me lend you 
 some books, they might help to pass your time." 
 
 "Thank you very much," she murmured, "it's 
 very kind of you. Perhaps Mrs. Duplock will 
 show me my room ? I want to change my child's 
 clothes directly the things come I'm afraid of 
 his taking cold." 
 
 "Then I'll leave you now. But if there's any- 
 thing more I can do to to repair the unfortunate 
 occurrence, pray give me the privilege. Mrs. 
 Duplock will come across at any moment that you 
 wish to send to me, I'm sure." 
 
 "Thank you very much," she said again, and 
 Mrs. Duplock led the way to a bedroom. 
 
 "This bean't the one for you and the little 'un," 
 she said, with a broad drawl, "this be mine and 
 my husband's." A second door, with a bobbin 
 latch, opened out of it. "This be yours." 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 277 
 
 "Oh!" faltered Betty. "I have to pass through 
 your room to go to my own?" 
 
 "Yes, but we shan't mind, because we shan't be 
 here ; we're up before five in the mornings. And 
 I expect you go to bed betimes?" 
 
 "What do you call 'betimes'?" She was tear- 
 ing off the damp pelisse. 
 
 "Well, I suppose you won't be later than a 
 quarter to nine?" A four-poster nearly monop- 
 olised the floor, and she thumped the mountain- 
 ous bedding with a proud fist. "You'll lay on 
 two of the finest feather beds in the village, 
 marm ! They was my mother's before me. And 
 her mother's before that. More than thirty chil- 
 dren have been born on this bed. And nine folks 
 have been laid out on it." 
 
 When the porter arrived, the trunks couldn't 
 be coaxed up the staircase, so Betty unpacked 
 necessaries in the kitchen. A wood fire burnt 
 there cheerfully. She cut the stitches in the can- 
 vas wrapping with a knife that she found in the 
 scullery, and aired the baby's sheets and blankets 
 before the blaze. Mrs. Duplock helped her to 
 carry the bassinette, and to erect it between the 
 historic bed and a box, which served for a ward- 
 robe and a chest of drawers. 
 
 It was a very grubby Betty who washed at an 
 elementary washhand-stand, with mottled soap. 
 
278 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 Tea was sustaining, and "Ducksums" evinced 
 a lively interest in the chickens that ran about the 
 kitchen. At last, when she had put him into his 
 little night-shirt, she went down to the fire again, 
 and was invited to the wooden arm-chair with a 
 chintz cushion. She put her feet on the fender, 
 and wondered at being there. Dusk gathered. 
 The cabbages through the window silvered, and 
 grew vague. Mrs. Duplock lit a feeble lamp, and 
 ironed some washing on the table. Her husband 
 came in heavily even gaunter than she, older, 
 still more weather-beaten bent double beneath a 
 load. He pulled off his cap first, and slid the 
 barley-meal to the ground. It struck the bricks 
 with a thud that told its weight. 
 
 ' 'Evening, marm." His trembling hand 
 wiped the sweat from his forehead. 
 
 "Good-evening, Mr. Duplock," she said. 
 
 "I'm doo-ing your shirt, Joe," said the woman. 
 
 "So I se-e." 
 
 He said no more. He sat on a chair just in- 
 side the door, and unlaced his boots. Betty felt 
 that her presence constrained him ; it occurred to 
 her, with new pity, that the kitchen was these 
 people's home, and that the inconvenience was not 
 hers alone. But that eggs were to be boiled soon 
 for her supper, she would have gone to bed at 
 once. 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 279 
 
 Still the pair were dumb. She stole another 
 glance at him, and then it was the weary resig- 
 nation of his legs she knew that timidity was 
 not his only trouble; she realised that the man 
 was dog-tired from his shoulders to his feet, and 
 that she was in his chair. 
 
 "Why, Mr. Duplock, I beg your pardon!" she 
 exclaimed, .rising. "Please go and sit there!" 
 
 He looked at her, abashed. 
 
 "I wouldn't think of it, marm." 
 
 "But it's your place, you know it is." 
 
 He stammered. "As to that " 
 
 "You go and sit there right away," she said, 
 "where you can be comfortable." 
 
 They changed seats the man sheepish, 
 tongue-tied; and his wife turned her grey head 
 an instant from her ironing. 
 
 Away over the fields a clock chimed nine as 
 Betty undressed in the room without a wardrobe, 
 or a chest of drawers, or a key. But "Ducksums" 
 was sleeping like a top, and after she had blown 
 out the candle, almost the next thing she knew 
 was that she had slept sound herself. 
 
 When she was called, the sky was fair, and the 
 Duplocks had long since breakfasted. After they 
 came back from church, she sat down to dinner 
 with them. No reference was made to the ar- 
 rangement, but the social barrier that the cot- 
 
280 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 tagers had drawn across their kitchen table left 
 them little space to move. For them and their 
 boiled bacon and cabbage, one narrow end; for 
 the gentry and the fowl, the rest ! 
 
 Betty said, "Why, I think some of this fowl 
 would go very well with your bacon, Mrs. Dup- 
 lock, wouldn't it?" 
 
 "Oh, well, then," said Mrs. Duplock, "you must 
 accept a bit of our bacon with your fowl." 
 
 But Mr. Mellish's offering proved to be so 
 tough that it was no good to anybody, and Betty 
 dined on bacon and cabbage. 
 
 "I'm glad I 'invited' you before I began to 
 carve!" she laughed; "I didn't know we couldn't 
 eat it, did I?" 
 
 "As if such a lady as you-u would do a thing 
 like that!" said Mr. Duplock devoutly. They 
 were the only words he had spoken since he 
 asked a blessing. 
 
 She found the three-pronged fork difficult to 
 use, and tried hard not to mortify them by awk- 
 wardness. Her host and hostess were extremely 
 cramped, and they tried, with fine courtesy, to 
 conceal their discomfort. 
 
 She began to respect the Duplocks. She pro- 
 ceeded to like them. It was in a very depreca- 
 tory voice that she said on Tuesday morning to 
 the woman: 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 281 
 
 "Mrs. Duplock, Baby is being eaten up the 
 room must be in a terrible state. I'm sure you 
 don't know it." 
 
 "Oh, there now!" said Mrs. Duplock, "the poor 
 lamb! But, marm, they come from the chickens 
 it bean't what you think, indeed it bean't !" 
 
 "I don't think it's it's what I think if you 
 tell me it isn't," said Betty. "But he's been tear- 
 ing himself to pieces all night. I don't know what 
 I'm to do!" 
 
 "Of course this is not right for you, I know it 
 ain't. But don't think there's any want o' soap- 
 and-water in the place, marm, I kearn't bear you 
 to think that it's all them chickens. And I'm 
 going to get something off my mi-ind !" She was 
 peeling potatoes outside the window, and she 
 banged the knife-handle on the sill. "I'd no right 
 to Ve asked twelve shillings from you and 
 what's more, I bean't going to take it! But he 
 told me you was a lady who'd pay anything I 
 asked." 
 
 "What? Mr. Mellish told you that?" 
 
 "Yes. It's not fit for you if I'd known the 
 sort you was, I dursen't have took you. All we 
 take is holiday children." 
 
 "Don't they object to the the chickens?" 
 
 "Lor bless you, they've got worse than that 
 where they come from ! That's all we take holi- 
 
282 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 day children for five shillings, and we feed 'em 
 for it besides. I do feel ashamed of having im- 
 posed on you I don't forget how you gave up 
 his chair to my old man when he come in tired. 
 You go down to the village and get a lotion for 
 the little 'un I'll watch 'im while you're gone, 
 as safe as if he was my own. It's all them chick- 
 ens, marm, but how you're to put up with it 
 for a fortnight, I dunno !" 
 
 "Only for a week, Mrs. Duplock, not a fort- 
 night." 
 
 "Mr. Mellish, he told us you'd be here for a 
 fortnight." 
 
 "Oh, did he?" said Betty, her eyes darkening. 
 "I didn't know, that's news to me! Well, I'll be 
 very glad to accept your offer." 
 
 As she crossed the road, he came out to greet 
 her. She had not seen him since her arrival, so 
 subduing her temper, she began very formally 
 
 "I have to thank you for the book you sent 
 across, Mr. Mellish and for the fowl." 
 
 "Oh," his gesture was airy, "a trifle, nothing 
 three and sixpence! I'm glad to see you, Mrs. 
 Keith I have to plead for your forbearance. 
 The people with me have just asked to stay for 
 another week. Naturally, the terms I am re- 
 ceiving from them are higher than those I asked 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 283 
 
 from you. Now, will you convenience me by re- 
 maining at the cottage for one week longer?" 
 
 "I am sorry," she said, "but I do not find it 
 a fair proposal." 
 
 "Oh, you mustn't say that," he exclaimed. "I 
 am not accustomed to be told I am unfair! I 
 presume I have the right to let my own apart- 
 ments to the best advantage? In any case," the 
 gestures were more vehement, "my niece cannot 
 be with me till then, so I can't receive you till 
 then. I must ask you to wait till Saturday week. 
 Our arrangement has depended on my niece's re- 
 turn I must hold you to our arrangement!" 
 
 There was the contingency of her being un- 
 able to find any other rooms sooner the risk 
 that plain speaking might condemn her to the 
 chickens for a longer term still. She recognised 
 it, wrathful as she was and decided to keep the 
 farm door open till she was in a position to slam 
 it. 
 
 "W-e-11, it'll be rather inconvenient for me," 
 she murmured, assuming weakness. 
 
 He took leave of her, vain of his mastery. 
 
 "Mrs. Duplock," she volleyed, when she went 
 in with the lotion, "I don't go to the farm, for 
 five minutes, if I can help myself. But I can't 
 stay here. Now I want somewhere to live and 
 you must find it for me. Nothing on this earth 
 
I 
 
 284. THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 will drive me into that man's house except the 
 chickens at the last moment!" 
 
 Mrs. Duplock had never heard an American 
 at high speed before ; she looked breathless. 
 
 "Well, I haven't liked to speak, marm," she 
 said, "but Mr. Mellish bean't liked in the village 
 he do some rare shabby things." 
 
 "Where's his niece? Is there a niece at all?" 
 
 "Yes, he's got a niece, but she hasn't been here 
 for four months." She added impartially, "May- 
 be he has hopes to get her back, you know!" 
 
 "Mrs. Duplock, what am I to do? I must have 
 other rooms. Where am I to go? I don't know 
 how to find them. You don't know how hard it 
 is to find lodgings to live in. I feel as if I had 
 been travelling round Kent for years !" 
 
 "You poor lamb," said Mrs. Duplock, "beg- 
 ging your pardon! But there be nothing fit for 
 you in Atherall you'd best go to Hammick." 
 
 "Can you tell me of anything there?" 
 
 "I dunno no one I could exactly recommend 
 you to in Hammick. If it had been Rusthall 
 now, I could have told you of a ni-ice place. But 
 I suppose Rusthall's too far for you?" 
 
 "Why, Rusthall is what I'd like best; that's 
 where I've come from ! But I didn't see any 'nice 
 place.' " 
 
 "I've heard of ladies being very satisfied at 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 285 
 
 Mrs. Hyder's. And I'm told you get what you 
 pay for with her." 
 
 "Is she dear?" asked Betty. "I can't afford 
 more than fifteen shillings a week." 
 
 "Well, I can't say. I expect Mrs. Hyder'd 
 want a tidy sum. If you'd like to go and see it, 
 and don't want to take the little 'un so far, I 
 can do with 'im. It's the 'ouse in the 'ollow, agen 
 the poplars." 
 
 And when she had interviewed Mrs. Hyder, 
 Betty was confident of being comfortable there. 
 Her relief had been intense when Mrs. Hyder 
 abated a half-crown and said, "Well, for such a 
 long while, we'll say fifteen shillings, then!" The 
 sitting-room was tiny the ground-floor "draw- 
 ing-room" was already let, and for double the 
 terms and she overlooked the kitchen garden, 
 instead of the lawn. But the window opened on 
 to a ladder staircase, and below there was a little 
 red path, just wide enough for one, dividing the 
 vegetables from the pink and white apple and 
 plum trees. 
 
 She returned to the cottage rejoicing. This 
 time, Mrs. Duplock stitched the cot in the canvas. 
 Mrs. Duplock said her "old man would drive the 
 lady to the station in their cart on the morrow." 
 Mrs. Duplock received the fortnight's rent that 
 
286 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 she had been led to expect and cried when she 
 took it. 
 
 "It don't seem right," she quavered, "it don't 
 indeed! But it'd be going agen Providence to 
 refuse twelve shillings, wouldn't it, when you're 
 that good as to offer it? Us with another bird 
 dead only last night!" Two large tears trickled 
 down her bony nose. "Me and Duplock be go- 
 ing to see you safe into the train, marm. We've 
 been talking of it over when Mr. Mellish hears 
 what you mean to do, I dunno, what he'll say, 
 I'm su-ure !" 
 
 And, their work sacrificed, the couple appeared 
 next morning as a bodyguard. The man had put 
 on a jacket. The woman wore her best clothes, 
 to sit beside the "gentry." A pink rose bright- 
 ened the antique bonnet; the watchful, hard- 
 featured face was framed in ribbons of the an- 
 cient brown which Fashion's wheel was to make 
 chic a few months later. 
 
 Not till the car was at the door did Betty an- 
 nounce her intention to Mr. Mellish. He was 
 grooming his mare as she crossed the road, and 
 she called to him over the gate. 
 
 "I have brought the book you kindly lent me," 
 she said, when he came out, "and the three and 
 sixpence. I have to wish you 'good-day.' I am 
 just going." 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 287 
 
 He looked beyond her to the cart, and gasped 
 an excited figure on the ragged grass-plot. 
 
 "Going? What do you mean?' he stuttered. 
 "You can't go you mustn't leave me in the 
 lurch like this! What do you mean?" 
 
 "It's very simple; I mean I have taken other 
 apartments." 
 
 "Oh, ho, ho!" he said violently. "We shall 
 soon see if it's so simple! You'll find it's not so 
 simple as you think. You have engaged my 
 rooms ; I don't allow you to break a contract. I 
 have my claim!" 
 
 The Duplocks stood close at hand, apprehen- 
 sive and alert, the woman holding the baby. 
 
 "Will you please put the baggage in, Mr. 
 Duplock?" said Betty, turning. 
 
 "You are not going!" declaimed Mr. Mellish, 
 with dramatic gesticulation. "Even at this 
 eleventh hour, madam, you do not go. The 
 rooms have been reserved at your request; I'm 
 a man of business, I'll have my rights, I'll not be 
 robbed!" 
 
 His gestures were so uncontrolled that for a 
 moment she lost her nerve and was mute. Then 
 she threw up her chin and fronted him steadily. 
 
 "Mr. Mellish," she said, "when you have done 
 screaming, let us understand each other! You 
 let your rooms to me by a falsehood about your 
 
288 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 niece. And you delayed me till Saturday be- 
 cause you had a chance of doing better in the 
 meantime. And when the other chance came off, 
 you asked me to wait your convenience in a 
 kitchen. Do you imagine I have arrived here 
 from a kindergarten?" 
 
 "Oh," he shouted, "they may be common peo- 
 ple, but they will do all they can, and 
 
 "They are not common people, they are much 
 superior to you, but their house is not suitable." 
 
 "You are not going!" he stormed. He beat 
 the book on his palm under her face. "Mark 
 that!" 
 
 "There is just one thing that might detain 
 me," she said through her teeth. "If the hand 
 you are brandishing happens to touch me, I shall 
 remain to give you in charge of the village police- 
 man. Now out of my way, Mr. Mellish and 
 the next time you hope to cheat a woman because 
 she hasn't her husband with her, don't choose an 
 American !" 
 
 Then she climbed on to the plank in the cart, 
 beside the brown bonnet-strings and the rose. 
 And Mrs. Duplock, giving "Ducksums" to her, 
 said, "Lor, marm, there was one moment when 
 you looked as if you was standing up dead!" 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 IT was peaceful, overlooking the plum-trees. 
 After Fuchsia Terrace, and the kitchen, there 
 was much to be said for the abode. She sur- 
 prised herself soon, in this tiny room, by feeling 
 so grateful for it. "Ducksums" did not give her 
 much time to be idle during the day, and there 
 was no piano for brief respites, nor were there 
 books for the evening. But the red path by the 
 fruit bloom was pleasant, and there was a seat 
 near the crocuses on the little lawn. 
 
 Mrs. Hyder recommended a gawky girl in a 
 pinafore, from the vicinity of the Toad Rock, to 
 push the perambulator, and Betty bought a new 
 sixpenny-halfpenny hat for her, and walked be- 
 side her twice a day over the common. The 
 Happy Valley was still there and the favourite 
 nook was again favoured. The girl and "Duck- 
 sums" didn't see them, but the spot where they 
 sat was full of memories. Last time there had 
 been no "Ducksums." 
 
 Ignorant of such reflections, he waved his hand 
 to a far meadow, sprinkled with white lambs. 
 
 289 
 
290 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 In this new life, where her only companions 
 were her baby boy, and Queenie from the Toad 
 Rock, Betty found herself taking an interest in 
 her fellow-lodger. Attention was first drawn to 
 her by peals of laughter in the garden between 
 five and six o'clock in the afternoon, and the 
 ladder staircase had yielded a view of a young 
 girl playing hide-and-seek with a child about 
 twelve years old. Between six o'clock and seven, 
 however, the young girl was discovered to be a 
 very pretty woman, and she had brought out a 
 work-basket and was mending things. The ab- 
 sorption with which she mended things was so 
 great a change from the merriment with which 
 she played hide-and-seek, that Betty looked at 
 her astonished. After supper, there had been 
 another glimpse of her, through the drawing- 
 room window the lamplight showed her, with a 
 furrowed brow, nibbling a penholder at a table 
 strewn with papers. 
 
 Curiosity in the chameleon ascertained that she 
 was the child's mother, and "an authoress," and 
 that her name was "Mrs. Norbury." 
 
 Every morning Betty saw Mrs. Norbury leave 
 the house with her little daughter swinging a 
 school-satchel. The length of time that she was 
 gone suggested that the school was in Tunbridge 
 Wells. Every afternoon she went out to bring 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 291 
 
 the child back, and in the interval the table had 
 been strewn with papers again. Betty observed 
 that the main features of the programme never 
 varied. At half-past four, a music lesson. From 
 five to six, the games. From six to seven, the 
 work-basket. After supper, once more the pen! 
 
 What kind of woman was this who lived like a 
 machine, and could romp like a young girl? 
 
 One afternoon "Ducksums" introduced them. 
 He was learning to stand, and exaggerating his 
 stability, and Mrs. Norbury picked him off the 
 daisies. The little girl, it transpired, had been 
 on tiptoe for a week to "know the baby," and 
 the women talked while they watched them. 
 
 "What a pretty little frock that is!" remarked 
 Betty. 
 
 Mrs. Norbury beamed. 
 
 "Do you think so, really? I am glad. I had 
 to run it up for her in a couple of days." 
 
 "You don't mean to say you made that your- 
 self?" 
 
 "That? Yes, and all her others too! I make 
 everything she wears except her shoes and 
 stockings." 
 
 Betty opened amazed eyes at her. 
 
 "Are you sure you quite believe me?" said the 
 prodigy, laughing. 
 
 "Why, yes, of course," laughed Betty. "I was 
 
292 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 only wondering what your frightful fault can 
 be." 
 
 The other woman looked puzzled. 
 
 "You seem too perfect to be true." 
 
 At this, the prodigy blushed as brightly as if 
 she had been seventeen. 
 
 "But it's so simple if you know how," she said. 
 "The only difficulty is to find the time." 
 
 "Well, so I should say, seeing that you write 
 as well. I don't know how you do so much 
 I've been wondering ever since I came." 
 
 "I've really got it easier now than I've ever 
 had it before! I mean, than I've ever had it 
 since my husband died. I've done everything for 
 Muriel since then, and she used to be delicate." 
 
 "She's all right now, isn't she?" 
 
 "Oh yes! The sea air and the country have 
 done just what we hoped we left town when 
 she was five. But till we came to this place, she 
 was only allowed to go to school in the morn- 
 ing I had scarcely taken her when it was time 
 to go and fetch her. That was rather whizzling. 
 You see, I never write in front of her; it'd be 
 bad for the work, and what's more important 
 still it'd be bad for the child to have a dummy 
 mother driving a pen. Besides, I have to bring 
 her up." 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 293 
 
 "But she seems such a good little thing there 
 can't be much 'bringing up' to do?" 
 
 "Good?" said the other, in a deep, hushed voice 
 she sounded as if she were saying prayers. 
 "Yes. She makes me feel ashamed sometimes. 
 But there's the good to be helped along, and the 
 failings to be 'thrown out of the window.' She 
 and I work together at that. We 'throw an- 
 other failing out of the window' every term." 
 The smile that lit her face was very girlish. 
 
 This year, the English climate was even more 
 eccentric than usual, but when the sky was kind 
 and the ground was dry, the women met nearly 
 every afternoon in the play hour. Sometimes 
 Betty joined in the games and romped with the 
 best. And when the Easter holidays began, she 
 often took Muriel for walks with Queenie and 
 "Ducksums," and left the mother free at the 
 table. 
 
 By the time the hyacinths and tulips came up, 
 the women were good friends. Mrs. Xorbury, it 
 seemed, always sauntered in the garden for ten 
 minutes after her evening's work. 
 
 "Why don't you come out too?" 
 
 "I don't like to go so far away from Baby, for 
 fear he wakes." 
 
 So, in future, Mrs. Norbury always sauntered 
 to the kitchen garden instead, and they generally 
 
294 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 sat and talked on the ladder staircase under the 
 open window. 
 
 Betty learnt that her pen provided her only 
 income, and that she had ambitions, and no pros- 
 pect of fulfilling them. 
 
 "I can't afford to go in for the kind of work 
 I'd love," she explained once, as they nibbled 
 chocolate on the steps together; "I couldn't 
 educate Muriel, I couldn't do anything by it!" 
 
 "Have you tried?" 
 
 "Yes, I've had two little plays produced in 
 London. The second one did me a lot of good, 
 so far as kudos goes ; all the best-known dramatic 
 critics gave it really magnificent notices, with a 
 single exception he dismissed it with a sneer. 
 But I didn't make any money by it and the 
 other stuff keeps us. I'm not proud of being a 
 serial writer, but we've got to live." 
 
 "I think you ought to be very proud indeed. 
 I'd be very proud if I could do what you're do- 
 ing. J have about twopence a week to live on, 
 and I'm spending twopence-halfpenny." She 
 sighed. "And I can't earn a cent. Anyhow, 
 what's the professional distinction between writ- 
 ing serials and writing novels?" 
 
 "Mrs. Keith! A serial is pot-boiling, and a 
 novel's a book." 
 
 "Oh, I see ! Every long story that hasn't cloth 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 295 
 
 covers is a 'pot-boiler' ; and every long story that 
 has, is called a 'novel.' I say, I do wish you'd 
 give me a few hints I want to flatten my ex- 
 penses a little. The Hyders are quite fair, I 
 think; but I don't seem to do as well as I ought. 
 Do you go to the tradespeople yourself?" 
 
 "Not unless I'm obliged to. And it doesn't 
 matter here. Perhaps you don't order so well as 
 you might." 
 
 "How do you mean? I order a joint, and eat 
 it cold till I'm sick of seeing it." 
 
 "Oh, my dear! But of course, I know I used 
 to live like that myself! If you like, I'll show 
 you my week's bills then you'll see just what 
 I do." 
 
 "You are a trump!" exclaimed Betty. "I'd 
 shine that way in no time. But I expect you 
 cater more extensively than I do, you know 
 you spend a lot on frocks, too, don't you?" 
 
 "Good gracious, no!" But she looked highly 
 delighted. "I make most of them myself. Why, 
 your mourning must have cost I don't know 
 how much!" 
 
 "Oh, well," said Betty, "but I don't go to the 
 same places now. I know I'm always seeing 
 you in new things." 
 
 "Not new ones. I turn them, and bring a 
 blouse up to date, when I've time." 
 
296 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 "For pity's sake, how do you bring a blouse 
 up to date?" 
 
 "Why, the sleeves chiefly it's the sleeves that 
 are always changing. See this muslin thing!" 
 She laughed gleefully. "This'll be its fourth 
 summer. The sleeves hung wide at the wrists 
 the first year. I turn them upside down the next 
 took the wide ends up to the shoulder, and 
 puffed it down to the elbow, and added a fitting 
 lace sleeve to the wrist. Last year, I only had to 
 throw away the lace half and stick on a frill. 
 This year, I stuck on an embroidery cuff in- 
 stead." 
 
 Betty contemplated the stars. 
 
 "And next?" she faltered. 
 
 "Next year I shall take the skirt, and what's 
 left of the blouse, and make a sweet little frock, 
 all frills, for Muriel." 
 
 "You are a liberal education!" said Betty, after 
 a long pause. "You may have a piece more 
 chocolate. When may I come and study those 
 bills of yours?" 
 
 And there was nothing, even the science of 
 economy, that Betty wasn't capable of mastering 
 if she bent her mind to it. 
 
 Another scene; after the scarlet runners flow- 
 ered. In this scene Mrs. Norbury's Frightful 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 297 
 
 Fault was revealed, and Betty received an As- 
 tounding Object Lesson. 
 
 It was announced that Mrs. Norbury was go- 
 ing to spend twelve pounds on clothes, all at 
 once. 
 
 "But I thought you made all your things your- 
 self, Madge?" 
 
 "Xow, that's a nice accusation!" complained 
 the other. "I told you I made 'most of them.' 
 So I do and I pat myself on the back when 
 they're done, and while I'm wearing them. But 
 but, dear once a year I give myself a treat." 
 
 "The creature's human," said Betty. 
 
 "I go shopping up West with fifteen pounds 
 when I've managed to save it. And I get one 
 good, well-cut costume. Of course, no furbe- 
 lows it's the cut that gives me the unholy joy, 
 because I know I'm properly dressed. Then 
 there must be a hat to go with it the gloves, the 
 silk petticoat, the shoes, the stockings, just a 
 complete rig-out, to feel happy when I call on 
 friends in town, and to impress the editors. Now, 
 here are some patterns! What are they wear- 
 ing? And where do you think I can cut down 
 the prices on this list? Do help me, Betty! this 
 year I've only got twelve pounds to fly with." 
 
 Betty, as adviser upon "cutting down the 
 prices"! It was quickly evident that there was 
 
298 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 no experience to be drawn upon. But goodwill 
 she had, and her acute intelligence, and the thirst 
 to learn the dominating purpose that was al- 
 ready dwarfing hardships and re-creating her. 
 And with all her brain she worked. Both women 
 worked for an anxious hour and a half reduc- 
 ing, debating, despairing. And finally they leant 
 back in their chairs with triumphant smiles, for 
 they had solved the problem with eleven pounds 
 nineteen and sixpence! 
 
 When they separated, the other woman, who 
 realised that her friend must have once shopped ^ 
 lavishly, said, "You have been a brick! I'm 
 afraid my trumpery purchases must have bored 
 you no end." 
 
 And the experience had taught her so much 
 that, for once in her life, Betty stood without 
 words for a reply. She simply shook her head at 
 the other woman, and kissed her. 
 
 From Lynch personally she had heard noth- 
 ing since she wrote giving him this address ; there 
 had merely been the necessary acknowledgment 
 from his lawyer. Nor among the notices of the 
 art exhibitions had she been able to find any pic- 
 ture of her husband's mentioned. But for a 
 solitary letter from Dardy, it was as if the world 
 had been left behind. The stir of a village woke 
 her to her child; the scent of the earth gave her 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 299 
 
 greeting when she rose; the night wind whisper- 
 ing in the fruit trees was her lullaby. 
 
 Not once had she repented the choice that she 
 had made. She had had to struggle hard in these 
 three months, but the struggle had been to eke 
 out her means, never to sustain her resolve. She 
 knew no temptation to abandon it. The sun 
 broke upon it and the sun set upon it, and the 
 moon idealised it, dauntless and unquenchable. 
 
 And, thanks to friendship, the struggle had 
 grown less. By slow degrees it had become need- 
 less for her to consult daily the items and prices 
 that were her lesson books. And by slower de- 
 grees the consciousness of poverty ceased to op- 
 press her. There were many hours in which en- 
 joyment was supreme. Not the hours in which 
 she trudged beside the scarecrow hireling, abjec't 
 to all beholders; but hours of a mother's duties, 
 and of a woman's rest when the flare of the 
 scarlet runners had paled in the twilight hours 
 of a mother's worship. It was sweet terror to 
 strain towards his tottering feet breathless, to 
 clutch at him, exultant, when he had almost 
 reached her. It was a new miracle to mark the 
 dawn of another word upon his lips, and teach 
 him the word that he was to say to Keith. 
 
 Under the window the plums turned purple. 
 The earliest apples ripened. And "Ducksums," 
 
300 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 defying the two pounds a week, had grown out of 
 all his petticoats. 
 
 Mrs. Norbury viewed a heap of them in Betty's 
 room one day, and said, "Why, you've got 
 enough here for half a dozen children you don't 
 need to buy any stuff at all ! You can chop some 
 of these up to make the alterations." 
 
 ''Is that so? Well, that's just lovely! But 
 I'm such a duffer, I don't know the way," ex- 
 claimed Betty. And the next moment she stared 
 at the landlady's daughter approaching with an 
 orange-coloured envelope in her hand. 
 
 "Regret to inform you your father passed 
 away last night from heart failure. No pain. 
 By his instructions, funeral must take place at 
 Greenwood within five days, rendering your 
 attendance impossible. I place my services en- 
 tirely at your disposal. Please cable your wishes, 
 and accept my sincerest condolence. DORFMAN. 
 
 "Bad news?" asked Mrs. Norbury. 
 
 "My father's dead," said Betty chokily. 
 
 And her head went down on the other woman's 
 shoulder, and they sat so for a long time without 
 a word. 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 B Y-and-by she sent a reply, begging the lawyer 
 to act for her in her absence. She cabled from 
 the little telegraph office next door to the hotel 
 where she had once spent such blindly happy 
 weeks. But she shrank from appealing to him 
 about the flowers that she wished laid on the 
 grave. About those she cabled to Dardy. 
 
 On the morrow came another message, assur- 
 ing her that all should be done as the dead man 
 had desired; and after that was silence. 
 
 Mrs. Norbury had said, "You'll want to go 
 away? You know you can leave Baby with 
 me?" 
 
 "I'm sure you'd let me. But I shan't be go- 
 ing away my father was in America ; I couldn't 
 get there in time. I feel so awful!" 
 
 "I'm sorry." 
 
 "We weren't friends that makes it worse." 
 
 "Poor girl!" 
 
 "I'm afraid you must think sometimes I'm 
 very reserved with you I daresay you've won- 
 dered? But I can't talk about my affairs. It 
 
 301 
 
302 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 isn't that I'm not fond of you, Madge, but I 
 can't!" 
 
 "I've never thought anything of the kind. I 
 haven't wondered at all, except " 
 
 "Except what?" 
 
 "Well, you told me your husband was alive 
 I've wondered sometimes whether you got on 
 together." 
 
 "No, that's right; we didn't get on together. 
 But it wasn't his fault. My father was a rich 
 man, and my husband wasn't and I was ex- 
 travagant. That was the trouble. But I'm go- 
 ing to do better next time! That's why I want 
 to know things ; I don't want to be such a useless 
 fool any more." 
 
 They were anxious days that followed, and the 
 silent evenings were heavier still. Brooding in 
 the little lamp-lit room, or pacing the narrow 
 path in the darkness, she faced one overwhelming 
 question. The fear of the millions, of the vast- 
 ness of their responsibility, weighted her soul. 
 "You'll be one of the richest women on earth!" 
 She quailed at the thought. All her ambitions 
 were absorbed by her plan for happiness and 
 home she prayed to escape the burden of this 
 complication in her life. 
 
 Her mind groped among conjectures. Dick 
 must have read of the death; he pictured her 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 303 
 
 in New York still! But if this mountain of 
 wealth descended on her? Then she could no 
 longer be economising unknown in a village ; the 
 Press of America and Europe would flame with 
 her relinquishment. Must he learn her where- 
 abouts then? Would he come to her? 
 
 She said to her friend at last, "I wish I could 
 alter those things we were talking about it'd 
 give me something to do in the evening." And 
 while she trembled before the magnitude of the 
 inheritance, she took a lesson in lengthening her 
 baby's clothes. 
 
 "Not so fast," she pleaded. "Show me. I 
 want to see how you do it, I want to learn." 
 
 And it was, "All right; I'll cut out a pattern of 
 the bodice. . . . Now lay it on the material I 
 should think three inches all round would do for 
 him. Now stick in the pins. . . . Now cut. Not 
 so close you've got to think of the turnings!" 
 
 Then, hindering the thought of the "turnings," 
 the news of the millions flashed. 
 
 A reference to the funeral ; next, "By the will 
 you inherit everything your father possessed, 
 which I estimate to have a value of two hundred 
 million dollars. Your presence desirable. I 
 await your instructions. DORFMAN." 
 
 Forty million pounds! 
 
 Two Continents were talking of her. Crowned 
 
304 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 Heads would flatter her. The world would pros- 
 trate itself before her feet. The woman gazed 
 over the kitchen garden with her child's mending 
 in her hand. 
 
 The work was postponed: "We'll do it after 
 tea, Madge, if you can spare the time." 
 
 She was left to her thoughts, and to her answer. 
 For days a word had eluded her. "Distribute?" 
 No. She borrowed a dictionary, and read under 
 D until "Disintegrate" leapt out. 
 
 "Ducksums" played beside her while she 
 scribbled, while she discarded sheets of paper. 
 
 The cablegram was written. She read it 
 through, her baby scrambling in her lap 
 
 "Make immediate formal request on my be- 
 half to President of United States, to nominate 
 Committee for the purpose of administering the 
 whole of my father's fortune to such Charities, 
 American and European, as they think deserving. 
 I stipulate that the whole be disposed of within 
 two years. My unalterable intention is that the 
 fortune be disintegrated, and my desire is as far 
 as possible to benefit all those who have suffered 
 in the process of its amassment. With these ex- 
 ceptions : Pay promptly ten thousand pounds to 
 Joe Duplock, Pear Cottage, Atherall, near Ham- 
 mick, Tunbridge Wells. Fifty thousand pounds 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 305 
 
 to Nurse Emery, Fernando Prospect Sana- 
 torium, the nurse who attended my brother daily 
 during my stay. Fifty thousand pounds to 
 Madge Norbury, of this address. Send all docu- 
 ments to me here for signature. KEITH." 
 
 Once more, she pondered if these three gifts 
 were inconsistent with her aim. She denied it. 
 Throngs would benefit whom the Trust had never 
 harmed; among them, why not four struggling 
 lives whose worth she knew? Truly their wants 
 could have been relieved by humbler grants, but 
 that point she was not the woman to discern. 
 When Betty gave, she gave "enough." 
 
 Over the common, unregarded, she went with 
 her answer, that was to thrill the world. 
 
 "Six pounds, fifteen," said the clerk in charge. 
 
 "So much?" she exclaimed. "I don't know if 
 I have it here." 
 
 "There are a hundred and thirty-five words." 
 
 "Oh, well," she emptied the purse, "it has 
 to go! Will you send it for me at once, please?" 
 
 A minute she lingered, listening. She stood 
 gathering her scanty change, as the apparatus 
 ticked away her millions to the Poor: no girl, 
 swept headlong by an impulse a woman com- 
 pleting a resolve. Her steadfast eyes were 
 solemn as she listened. Her mind beheld the 
 
306 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 ruin of the dead man's earthly hopes; yet her 
 spirit viewed some shadow lifted from his soul. 
 If, from the Infinite, her act were seen, millions 
 looked lesser there and pity, most. From the 
 Great Beyond, he would not condemn. 
 
 Peace flooded her heart as she turned away. 
 Many a still evening there had been, the same, 
 but none like it unto her. The flush of the sky, 
 the tenderness of the hour, all Nature breathed 
 a promise. Care was behind ahead, the sweet 
 fulfilment of her plan. Her step was buoyant 
 on the grass. Clearer than the village lights 
 that sprang into the gloaming, she saw the light 
 of Home. Nearer than the poverty that she re- 
 entered, she found the wealth of joy. The lamp- 
 lit room was mean, but her friend was in it; the 
 hill had been steep, but its height was climbed. 
 
 From the People, her husband, and her boy- 
 God, and herself! 
 
 Back to the lesson. 
 
 "Tack it together. . . . You've got the shoul- 
 der seam crooked. . . . That's it. That's right. 
 Now stitch!" 
 
CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 IT occurred to her afterwards that, instead of 
 "on my behalf" in the cablegram, she might have 
 said, "for me," and so saved a shilling. Probably 
 she might have saved more shillings than one. 
 She had just resigned millions cheerfully, but she 
 could not help thinking of that six pounds, 
 fifteen. 
 
 It annoyed her therefore to receive a reply 
 which put her to further expense: 
 
 "Most earnestly counsel consideration. The 
 course you contemplate is open to you always. 
 No need for haste. Confer with me before you 
 act. If you cannot come here, I will go to you." 
 
 She condensed her rejoinder with care, and it 
 ran: 
 
 "You have received definite instructions. 
 Please cable immediately whether you will fulfil 
 them." 
 
 To this a final warning: 
 
 307 
 
308 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 "Your wishes shall be obeyed. Legal form- 
 alities, however, cannot be completed before two 
 months. After that, revocation impossible." 
 
 She did not know whether it was true that 
 legal formalities would take so long, or whether 
 time for consideration was being discreetly im- 
 posed upon her; but she resigned herself to the 
 delay, and the weeks stole by. 
 
 A child from the village sauntered no more 
 into the drowsy garden with tidings from a dis- 
 tant land. The woman who was to be world- 
 famous during a nine days' wonder trod the roads 
 of Rusthall unremarked, and continued her daily 
 parsimonies. The woman who was to be as- 
 tounded by news that would metamorphose her 
 life, continued to be nurse, author, dressmaker, 
 and the playmate of her child. The colours of 
 the common changed and the colours of the gar- 
 den, and, one by one, Ducksums' petticoats were 
 lengthened. But in the routine of the women 
 nothing changed. Their days were as before. 
 
 And meanwhile, as Betty had supposed, Keith 
 believed her to be still in New York. He 
 imagined her sustained by Mrs. Waldehast, con- 
 doled with by Society, urged by confidants more 
 strongly than ever to sue for her freedom. He 
 had been prepared for her to do that earlier, and 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 309 
 
 given thanks for the silence; the silence hinted 
 that some feeling for him remained. As well 
 as if he had been present, he knew the advice that 
 was urged upon her yet she struggled against 
 it, she would not agree to divorce him ! 
 
 Time had softened his memory of their dis* 
 sensions; perhaps the joy of accomplishing good 
 work had softened it even more. It was no 
 longer for his bride alone that he sorrowed he 
 longed also for his wife. He reproached himself 
 for harshness, for lack of patience; sometimes 
 it seemed to him that he had been merciless. If 
 his means had improved, he would have written 
 to her; a score of impulses had seized him to 
 write, even as it was. But when the pen was in 
 his hand, what could be said? She had drooped 
 under the poverty, and he was still as poor. Only 
 if his picture fulfilled his expectations would there 
 be anything to say. If "The Harbour of Souls" 
 succeeded, he would implore her to return! 
 
 Not to effect a reunion had he begun the pic- 
 ture the man was an artist, and he painted be- 
 cause he must but he had thought of her home- 
 coming when he set his palette in the early morn- 
 ing, and he had thought of her homecoming when 
 he washed his brushes at the close of day. And 
 while the picture grew while every mail might 
 bring the news he dreaded, and every mail still 
 
310 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 withheld it Keith had trembled for the result 
 of that contention in New York, the contention 
 in which unknown people fought against his 
 dearest hope. 
 
 Then the hope had been slain by other means ; 
 he had read of her brother's death, and of her 
 father's and he fancied his wife reigning in the 
 great house that she had quitted, mistress of the 
 colossal fortune that she meant to sign away. 
 And, in spite of this, the canvas had claimed him 
 still. The picture of the homecoming had faded, 
 but the picture on the easel had progressed. He 
 had painted through every hour of light, painted, 
 and painted out, and painted again. And now 
 the work of ten months was finished, and the vic- 
 tory that he had prayed for all his life had come. 
 "The Harbour of Souls" had been bought by the 
 Chantrey Bequest on Keith had been bestowed 
 the highest recognition that can be granted to 
 any painter in England. And, being an artist, 
 he exulted; and, being a man, he mourned. 
 From the summit of success he raised his arms to 
 wife and child, to make the joy complete. 
 
 Redirected from Telemachus Mansions, a 
 letter was delivered at the studio. And the first 
 words startled him, and he turned to the signa- 
 ture and the signature was strange, and he read 
 the first words again : 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 311 
 
 "DEAR SIR, Since I came back with Mrs. 
 Keith from America in April, Mother has been 
 ailing, and I have been keeping house for Father 
 in Felix stowe. But now I am going to take a 
 place again, and I should be much obliged if Mrs. 
 Keith would kindly send the character she prom- 
 ised. The lady that I am going to has written 
 to Rusthall, but her letter was returned from 
 3 Fuchsia Terrace, marked 'Gone Away,' so I am 
 taking the liberty of writing to you, hoping you 
 will send this on to Mrs. Keith if she is not at 
 home. Hoping Baby is well. 
 
 "Yours respectfully, 
 
 "HARRIET FRY." 
 
 The nurse! And Betty had "come back in 
 April !" His mind ran riot. What could it mean 
 except that 
 
 But why strive to conjecture what it meant 
 when he might be able to ask her, face to face? 
 Rusthall. Perhaps she was at Rusthall now? At 
 least he should contrive to find her ! He crushed 
 the letter in his pocket, and sped down the flights 
 of steps. 
 
 Among the decayed four-wheelers on the hope- 
 less Foundling rank, a mouldering hansom stood. 
 
 "Charing Cross as quick as you can go!" he 
 cried. And its quickest was a crawl to his im- 
 
312 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 patience, and he beat the stuffy cushion with his 
 fist. 
 
 And while he leant over the doors of the 
 doddering cah, a placard struck his senses and 
 the wonder of the hour was hurled. 
 
 "Lynch's Daughter Gives Up Her Fortune!" 
 
 As he jumped, the board was passed. 
 
 "Forty Millions To The Poor!" The pro- 
 clamation fluttered at a street corner, strident 
 voices yelled it to the crowd. 
 
 "Stop!" he called; and a grimy hand shoved 
 evening papers to his clutch. 
 
 "This is a bit of all right, guv'nor?" exclaimed 
 the vagrant. "Gord bless the lady!" 
 
 "God bless the lady!" echoed her husband. 
 "There's a sovereign keep the change." 
 
 "Strike me pink, the world's gone barmy!" 
 gasped the man, and the cab jerked on. 
 
 But the lines were few; just the sensational 
 fact was cabled: "Lynch's Daughter Gives Up 
 Her Fortune!" That was all. But that was 
 everywhere. Contents bills blazoned it, newsboys 
 bellowed it, JLondon resounded with her deed. 
 At the station he seized more papers, in the hope 
 of learning where she was, and scanned them 
 while he waited for his train. No hint! 
 
 In the compartment, all the men were talking 
 of her. The journey among strangers chatter- 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 313 
 
 ing her name seemed eternal. If it failed? He 
 hungered to discover her. He wanted to kneel 
 at her feet, to bow his head on her knees. He 
 famined to reach her. And she might not be in 
 England, after all! Perhaps while his nerves 
 strained for Rusthall, she was looking from a win- 
 dow in Xew York? 
 
 Tunbridge Wells at last. In the twilight, he 
 was rattled over the road on which they used to 
 stroll together to the Pantiles, past the walls of 
 the hotel where they had stayed. Fuchsia Ter- 
 race was unfamiliar; when the stoppage of the 
 fly announced it, his throat grew tight that she 
 had known its ignominy. 
 
 A slattern advanced, with a trail of unhealthy 
 children. 
 
 "Is Mrs. Keith here?" 
 
 "Mrs. Keith ?" She tossed a frowzy head. "Oh 
 no!" 
 
 "She did lodge here, didn't she?" 
 
 "Mrs. Keith left months ago." 
 
 "Do you happen to know where she went? 
 I'm very anxious to find her. It's most important 
 that I should see her at once." 
 
 "I couldn't say, I'm sure." 
 
 "Can you tell me if she is still in Rusthall?" 
 
 "I couldn't say, I'm sure," repeated the 
 woman. 
 
314 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 He brought out some shillings and rejoiced the 
 unhealthy children, none of whom said "Thank 
 you." 
 
 The woman hesitated. 
 
 "I couldn't say for rights where she's staying, 
 but I've seen her about, once or twice, since she 
 left me." 
 
 "Lately?" 
 
 "I suppose the last time I see her might ha* 
 been a fortnight ago." 
 
 "Thank you very much." 
 
 He rushed back to the fly, and told the man 
 to drive to the post office. At the post office, he 
 astonished the girl at the desk by taking off his 
 hat to her. Could she favour him with the ad- 
 dress of a lady in the neighbourhood named Mrs. 
 Keith? 
 
 "Mrs. Richard Keith?" 
 
 "Mrs. Richard Keith," he stammered. 
 
 "She's living at Hyder's over there, the house 
 by the poplars," said the girl graciously, and was 
 sorry that the gentleman went out in such a 
 hurry. 
 
 By the poplars, a high gate ; through the gate, 
 a darksome path. Six strides, and he had reached 
 the door. 
 
 "Mrs. Keith?" 
 
 "Who shall I say, sir?" 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 315 
 
 ' 'Her husband,' please," he answered. And 
 a girl beyond cried, "Mrs. Keith's in the draw- 
 ing-room, mother!" He was left standing in the 
 porch. 
 
 Into the light of the little hall a lady hastened, 
 with friendly, smiling eyes. 
 
 "Your wife just went upstairs, Mr. Keith," 
 she said; "I'll show you the way." 
 
 "I shall be grateful." 
 
 But, instead of inviting him to enter, the lady 
 led him round the house to a kitchen garden. 
 And at a stair-head was an open window, shining 
 yellow on the night. 
 
 "Your wife's up there," she murmured, and 
 was gone. 
 
 He mustn't frighten her ! The thought thrust 
 him back in time. 
 
 "Betty!" he whispered, trembling. 
 
 Only the fruit boughs rustled in the breeze. 
 
 "Betty!" he called. And a figure came be- 
 tween the lamp-glow and the dusk. 
 
 "Betty!" 
 
 It was Her wondering face that bent in the 
 darkness! It was Her wondering voice that 
 broke with his name! 
 
 She flung out her hands to him. 
 
 And he stumbled up the staircase and caught 
 her in his arms. 
 
S16 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 And afterwards he didn't know what he had 
 said, or what she had said in the first few mo- 
 ments, but, "If you go on being so penitent, I 
 shall begin to think yqu must have treated me 
 very badly," she was smiling. And love and girl- 
 hood were in her smile, and her dimple was sun- 
 ning in her cheek. And would any other woman, 
 with big tears splashing, have laughed, "I al- 
 ways did stroke your hair the wrong way, didn't 
 I? You've got to put up with it?" 
 
 Then she was exclaiming, "I've got so much to 
 tell you, but I can't get a word in sideways! 
 How did you find me?" 
 
 And when he began to say how he had found 
 her, memories sprang, interrupting and called 
 other memories and he had to begin again: 
 
 "Nurse 
 
 "Dickie!" she beat feeble hands on him 
 "why do you keep saying 'nurse' what has nurse 
 got to do with it?" 
 
 "She wrote to me she wants a character, and 
 doesn't know where you are. But she said you 
 had gone to Rusthall." 
 
 "Oh! Now you're rewarded for not sending 
 her away when you wanted to look how nice 
 it is for you! Yes? Well? Go on, tell me all! 
 Oh, if you were a woman you'd have told me 
 everything in ten seconds everything that has 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 317 
 
 happened to you only you couldn't have told 
 me anything that was half so lovely to hear ! Go 
 on, Dickie; never mind what you say just hold 
 me tight and talk!" 
 
 "I got her letter this afternoon, and I tumbled 
 into a cab; and on the way to Charing Cross I 
 saw the news, what you've done 
 
 "You know?" 
 
 "Know? All London's shouting it. And I 
 stopped the cab to get a paper, and the man said, 
 'God bless the lady,' and Z said, 'God bless the 
 
 lady,' and and it is 'God bless the lady'! 
 
 Betty, you're an Angel! You're the greatest 
 woman on earth." 
 
 "O oh," she cooed. "And then, and then, and 
 then? Well?" 
 
 "Well, then I went to Fuchsia Terrace. My 
 heart, what a place for you! how could you go 
 there, kiddy? And she told me she had seen you 
 since you left ; and I went to the post office, and 
 
 they gave me your address, and Betty, has 
 
 it been very awful for you? You've been living 
 on that hundred a year? Why didn't you tell me 
 what you were doing?" 
 
 "My!" she mocked him with dismay; "that re- 
 minds me you've come much too soon; you're 
 all 'out of the picture' ; I meant to be here for a 
 year before you knew what I was doing! I ought 
 
318 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 to send you away again. I'm learning to be a 
 proper wife to you. Dardy said I couldn't, but I 
 am. How do you suppose that Baby's 
 Well!" Her radiant face grimaced at him. 
 "You're a fine father, you haven't asked about 
 your son yet!" 
 
 "How's our son, my wife?" 
 
 "How is he? He is unique. He's asleep in 
 there. Come and look!" 
 
 They crept to the cot, and stood silent. After 
 a minute she whispered, "He can walk! He 
 topples sometimes, but no other baby ever 
 toppled so well." Next, "Come back, or we shall 
 wake him! . . . I've got something to tell you. 
 How do you suppose his clothes have been made 
 big enough? I did them myself, to save buying 
 new ones. A woman downstairs showed me how 
 I'm just great at altering clothes to-day." She 
 popped a pink finger to his lips: "I don't know 
 if the needle has roughened my finger for you 
 feel!" 
 
 And then Miss Hyder appeared with a potato 
 pie; and Betty whispered to him, "If I had 
 known I'd have company to supper, I'd have 
 saved some rice pudding." 
 
 , He watched her cut the loaf. She cut it with 
 amazing skill and chid him for "daintiness" be- 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 319 
 
 cause he was so sick with love that he couldn't 
 eat. But she was no better herself. 
 
 On the path where he had called to her the 
 moon shone now, and from their chairs the 
 kitchen garden was enchanted. She wanted to 
 hear how it was that he hadn't "come in at the 
 door, like anybody else," and laughter rippled 
 when he told her of his guide. "There was the 
 touch of the dramatist about that she writes 
 plays, you know! What are you painting now, 
 Dickie? How's the work?" 
 
 "Sweetheart," he answered, "take some potato 
 pie it's your last chance!" 
 
 Her chair fell back, she was beside him in a 
 flash, her hands on his shoulders: "What have 
 you done?" 
 
 "I've finished 'The Harbour of Souls.' " 
 
 For an instant, though her lips smiled, her gaze 
 was wistful she hadn't been there to see! 
 
 "Good?" she faltered. 
 
 "Sold for a thousand guineas!" 
 
 "A thousand guineas? Not Vivard?" 
 
 "The Chantrey Bequest!" 
 
 "Dick!" No shade on her rapture now she 
 clung to him, breathless, eager, triumphant. It 
 was the moment of his life, and hers. "The 
 'Chantrey Bequest' means fame?" 
 
 "It means the biggest thing that could possibly 
 
320 THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 have happened to us. They've invited me to 
 exhibit it at the Academy next year. The public 
 '11 say it's magnificent, incomprehensible, or rot- 
 ten; but they'll flock to see it, and they'll talk 
 about it, because the Chantrey Bequest has 
 bought it. From the Academy it'll go to the per- 
 manent collection at the Tate Gallery." 
 "Permanent? When Baby grows up?" 
 "Always it's bought for England, it's the 
 property of the nation." Tears sprang to his 
 eyes. "My God, I'm proud of the honour! And 
 yet, when I think of yours, this thing that I have 
 done seems too petty to talk about. But it isn't 
 the honour only, loveliest, it means the end of 
 the struggle, it means I'm 'made.' After this, 
 my prices are whatever I choose to ask. I can 
 give you a pretty home, and peace of mind. I 
 can take you away from here to-morrow morn- 
 ing to London, Paris, Rome, wherever you'd 
 like to go. If I painted more quickly, we could 
 have six or seven thousand a year now ; even do- 
 ing my best work, we can be sure of comfort. 
 You've only to say what you want to make you 
 quite happy only tell me what I'm to do!" 
 
 "You are to do your best work," she told him. 
 "That's what we're going to live for, Dickie, to 
 do our best! Oh, I am glad for you, glad, glad! 
 Yes, you shall take me early to-morrow, and the 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 first thing I'm to see is your picture. Talk to me 
 about it. When did you begin it how long 
 ago?" 
 
 "I began it soon after you went. And I've 
 been at work on it ever since." 
 
 "How did you manage, Dick you've been 
 hard up?" 
 
 "About two bob a day I did a sketch now 
 and then to keep me going, and I didn't do many 
 I couldn't spare the time. And I thought of 
 you while I was painting I meant to beg you to 
 come home if I made a hit. And all the time, I 
 was afraid of the maill" 
 
 "The mail?" 
 
 "Afraid they'd persuade you to get rid of me 
 before the thing was done." 
 
 "Oh, my dear," she moaned, clinging to him, 
 "my dear!" 
 
 "All the time I thought of you, Betty, I 
 wanted you so much, my love ! If I had guessed ! 
 Tell me, what do you do here you've no nurse 
 at all?" 
 
 "I've Queenie." 
 
 "Who's Queenie?" 
 
 "She's a child who comes to wheel Baby's car- 
 riage for me. She's about fourteen, but it doesn't 
 seem to be too heavy for her, and she's very elated 
 by the eighteenpence a week. We go out every 
 
THE HOUSE CF LYNCH 
 
 morning and afternoon if it's fine. Sometimes we 
 go to the Happy Valley." 
 
 "My poor little girl!" 
 
 "No, you aren't to say that! it hasn't been so 
 rough as you think. I've got quite used to it. 
 There's always something to do, to keep me from 
 being dull, and it doesn't seem a rush any more, 
 as it did at the start. When I come back, .there's 
 dinner, and then Baby goes to sleep. And then 
 we play, and go for another walk I think I like 
 our afternoon walks best. I've found such pretty 
 bits; I'd like to show you! Then there's tea. 
 And I give him his bath. And after supper 
 
 The landlady's daughter knocked again, with 
 a basket of clean washing. 
 
 "Oh, Mrs. Keith, Mrs. Tobitt says would you 
 very kindly oblige her with the money to-night, 
 instead of on Monday?" 
 
 "What, this week too?" said Betty gaily. "Oh, 
 that husband of hers! Will you wait while I 
 count them, then, Miss Hyder? You might 
 clear away while I'm doing it, please." 
 
 Wondering, he saw her lift the things on to 
 the sofa, and arrange them in neat little stacks, 
 and compare them with the list. As naturally 
 as if she had been doing it all her life, she checked 
 the bill, and produced two and ninepence, and 
 pencilled in the book that a pair of Baby's socks 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 323 
 
 was missing. Amazement possessed him as he 
 watched her. 
 
 "And after supper," she went on, as if nothing 
 had happened, when they were alone, "I've got 
 his frocks to mend. I'm terribly vain of mend- 
 ing frocks ! And there's my friend downstairs 
 we sit on 'those steps and talk every evening, 
 before we go to bed. It's so beautifully still; 
 there isn't a sound, except a >church-clock that 
 
 chimes protectively. I I don't know " She 
 
 looked round, hesitating. "Don't imagine I 
 won't enjoy a good time on the Continent, but 
 I'm not sure I'm so keen on saying good-bye to 
 all this in quite such a hurry. I'd like to go and 
 feast on your picture before breakfast to-mor- 
 row, but don't you think we might come back 
 for two or three days?" 
 
 "You want to?" he asked, marvelling. 
 
 "If you won't think it silly? It's difficult to 
 put into words, but You see, this has been 
 my home for a long while, and I've felt so mucR 
 here!" Her voice trembled. "I'd like time to 
 to look at it, and look back at it, before I go. 
 'Tisn't that I don't want to go to you, my love; 
 it's because I love you, because I've tried so hard 
 to be better for you here, that the place means 
 so much to me." 
 
THE HOUSE OF LYNCH 
 
 "Kiddy!" he said chokily. Her palm lay up- 
 turned in her lap, and his hand closed on it. 
 
 "You don't mind?" 
 
 "It's what I'd choose! I'd like to go with you 
 for the walks 'Queenie' shall take us all. I'd 
 like to watch you while you sew the things, I'd 
 like to live just the life that you've been living, 
 my dearest dear. Never mind how long even if 
 it's only a few days, it'll always make the time 
 we've been apart seem shorter to me afterwards." 
 
 "That's what I thought," she murmured 
 "we shall have been together here. And we 
 couldn't be more than happy anywhere!" 
 
 So they saw "happiness" to be together. 
 
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