SRLF 
 
 p/r
 
 presented to the 
 
 LIBRARY 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA SAN DIEGO 
 
 by 
 FRIENDS OF THE LIBRARY 
 
 MR. JOHN C. ROSE 
 
 donor
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 Pseudonym Library.
 
 THE 
 
 PSEUDONYM LIBRARY. 
 
 1. MAKAR'S DREAM. 
 
 2. HERB OF LOVE. 
 
 3. HEAVY LADEN. 
 
 4. THE SAGHALIEN CONVICT. 
 
 5. THE SCHOOL OF ART. 
 
 6. A BUNDLE OF LIFE.
 
 JOHN OLIVER HOBBES 
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 J. SELWIN TAIT AND SONS 
 
 65 FIFTH AVENUE 
 
 1894
 
 COPYRIGHT 
 
 J. SELWIN TAIT AND SONS 
 1893
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN OLIVER HOBBES 
 
 AUTHOR OF " SINNER'S COMEDY," " SOME EMOTIONS 
 AND A MORAL," " A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS," 
 
 ETC.
 
 01- 
 
 PROLOGUE. 
 
 I. 
 
 IR SIDNEY WARCOP was 
 a gentleman who had been 
 born with many good and per- 
 fect gifts, but he had pawned 
 them to his Adversary for a few 
 casks of brandy and a little soda. 
 In his early manhood he had been 
 considered a handsome, dashing 
 young buck of the old school, a 
 three-bottle hero, a sad dog, an 
 irresistible rake a good-hearted 
 devil. Now he was reformed, how- 
 ever, and reformation had meant in
 
 PROLOGUE. 
 
 his case, as in that of many, the 
 substitution of many disagreeable 
 virtues for a few atoning sins? Once 
 over-generous, he was now frugal ; 
 once fearless, he was now discreet ; 
 once too loving, he was now 
 indifferent ; once a zealot, he was 
 now unprejudiced ; once candid, he 
 was now abyssmal in a phrase, he 
 was the embodiment of gentlemanly 
 correctness, well-bred honor, and 
 polite religion. 
 
 At the age of six and twenty he 
 had surprised society in two ways : 
 first, by running away with his 
 enemy's wife ; and secondly, by 
 marrying the lady on the death, 
 some months later, of her distracted 
 husband. Eighteen years had now 
 passed and, by living in close retire- 
 ment, Lady Warcop was become a 
 much-sought-after person. She had 
 suddenly inherited, too, a consider- 
 able fortune, and as views on mar-
 
 PROLOGUE. 
 
 riage are only immoral (as it would 
 seem) when one cannot afford to 
 pay for them, it was not so much 
 a question whether her ladyship 
 would be received, but whether she 
 would receive. And she gave such 
 delicious dinners ! The early trans- 
 gression of Sir Sidney and his wife 
 was forgotten, and their daughter 
 (whose age was a subject delicately 
 avoided by the feeling and discreet 
 world), was receiving her education 
 in a convent abroad. It is possible 
 that she would have remained there 
 always and ended her life as a nun, 
 but for the great interest most un- 
 expectedly shown in her welfare 
 by a rich and childless aunt her 
 mother's own sister Mrs. Con- 
 stance Charlotte Portcullis. 
 
 The heart of Mrs. Portcullis was, 
 as it were, a moral scent-sachet, 
 which she refilled with the fashion- 
 able perfume of each season, scatter-
 
 4 PROLOGUE. 
 
 ing the musk of the old year to 
 make room for the myrrh of the 
 new. This custom which is com- 
 monly called Toleration won for 
 her numberless acquaintances of 
 every rank and opinion, among 
 whom it would it have been hard 
 to decide, which expressed his or 
 her contempt for the lady's uncer- 
 tain principles, in the most affec- 
 tionate manner. Mrs. Portcullis 
 had, nevertheless, one fixed and 
 unalterable idea, and that had ref- 
 erence to Lady Warcop. She held 
 that her appalling conduct had 
 brought perpetual disgrace on that 
 distinguished family the Tracy Tot- 
 tenhams, of which she and her 
 ladyship were members. Years 
 passed and the sisters never met. 
 Mrs. Portcullis, of Belgrave Square, 
 and Lady Warcop, of Curzon Street, 
 were a new heaven and a new earth 
 asunder.
 
 PROLOGUE. 
 
 They were brought together at 
 last in a street accident. Mrs. 
 Portcullis was thrown out of her 
 victoria and driven home half in- 
 sensible in Lady Warcop's broug- 
 ham, which, by a dispensation of 
 Providence or the interference of 
 Satan, happened to be passing at 
 the time of the catastrophe. On 
 recovery from the shock Charlotte 
 felt constrained to write to her sister 
 in pious and forbearing terms 
 
 " Since the Almighty, " she wound 
 up, "has, in accordance with His 
 inscrutable Principles, chosen a 
 weak and sinful agent for the accom- 
 plishment of His all-merciful design 
 (the preservation of my life), I must 
 accept this as a sign that He desires 
 me to unbend from my former at- 
 titude of just, if reluctant, severity. 
 If He has seen fit to forgive you for 
 the disgrace and reproach you have
 
 PROLOGUE. 
 
 brought on our once stainless name, 
 my duty as a Christian forbids me 
 to make any further comment on 
 your crime. But I cannot refrain 
 from adding that my unceasing 
 prayers for your repentance have 
 no doubt furthered, more than it 
 would become me to say, this 
 miracle of grace. 
 
 " I will receive you this day week 
 between two and four. 
 
 " Your affectionate sister, 
 
 " C. C. PORTCULLIS." 
 
 Like Lady Lurewell in the comedy, 
 Mrs. Portcullis could dress up a sin 
 so religiously that the devil himself 
 would hardly know it of his making. 
 It is certain that she deceived her- 
 self, and on reading over the fore- 
 going she almost felt the prick of 
 her immortal wings which prick, 
 as Plato tells us, is to the soul what 
 the cutting of teeth is to the infant
 
 PROLOGUE. 
 
 But Lady Warcop's state of mind on 
 receiving the letter, and her con- 
 sequent remarks to the effect that 
 Charlotte always was a hypocrite, a 
 cat, and a fool, need not be insisted 
 on here ; for, remembering Char- 
 lotte's wealth and several others 
 matters, she wrote her reply in so 
 meek and quiet a spirit that the 
 hasty utterances of her unconsider- 
 ing tongue shall not be known till 
 the last Judgment. Although, as 
 we have said, Lady Warcop had 
 gained for herself a certain sneaking 
 acknowledgment from so-called 
 good society, her own sister's re- 
 fusal to recognise her had always 
 been a stumbling-block. There 
 were still many desirable acquaint- 
 ances who would not wink until 
 Mrs. Portcullis winked, and this 
 consideration was of such moment 
 to Blanche, who only lived now to 
 meet the right people in the right
 
 PROLOGUE. 
 
 way, that rather than miss, the 
 chance of reconciliation with Char- 
 lotte, she would have performed 
 even a more severe penance than 
 did Henry II. at the shrine of St. 
 Thomas of Canterbury. So giving 
 much incidental praise to the 
 Creator, but much more to Mrs. 
 Portcullis, she wrote to say that she 
 would call at Belgrave Square on 
 the day and between the hours 
 named in Charlotte's most kind 
 letter, and, begging her to continue 
 her fervent supplications to Heaven, 
 she remained her devoted, if un- 
 worthy, sister Blanche. She dis- 
 played very correct taste, Charlotte 
 thought, in omitting the ill-gotten 
 name of Warcop. 
 
 II. 
 
 LADY WARCOP was a woman of 
 medium stature, elegant mould, 
 and cautious smiles. Deep-set blue
 
 PROLOGUE. 
 
 eyes and a very low brow, a nose 
 inclined to the Roman, and a tell- 
 ing mouth ; a smooth, rather pale 
 complexion and innocent fair hair 
 were the most remarkable points of 
 a countenance which fascinated 
 reason and looked reproach at 
 distrust. At least seven years 
 younger than Sir Sidney, and of 
 singularly youthful appearance, she 
 affected an artless manner and dis- 
 played now that childish merriment 
 not seen in children, and now that 
 rudeness which passes for sincerity 
 and is usually found in the disingen- 
 uous. A being with many emo- 
 tions but no heart, with ideas but no 
 thoughts, there was so little, even 
 in her folly, to excite interest, that, 
 in calling her stupid, friends said 
 their best and enemies their worst of 
 her character. But the strong force 
 in Lady Warcop was her sex : weak, 
 untruthful, cowardly, and malicious,
 
 IO PROLOGUE. 
 
 she was still no more than woman 
 may be, and it was no slight virtue 
 though a negative one to have 
 kept this feminine quality, to have 
 retained after a life of sham pas- 
 sions and passionate shams that 
 indefinable Eve-like pathos which 
 from the beginning conquered and 
 until the end will conquer the rig- 
 our of strict criticism. 
 
 Mrs. Portcullis, on the other hand, 
 was big-boned, loud-voiced, and 
 mighty, and so aggressive in her 
 merits that she would have been 
 more acceptable and pleasant for 
 one of Lady Warcop's cowering 
 faults. Her high, white forehead 
 and long chin gave her a grand and 
 monumental air, which her widow's 
 cap, crape robes, and such-like par- 
 aphernalia of woe made the more 
 emphatic. 
 
 The meeting between these two 
 ladies, who had hated each other so
 
 PROLOGUE. 1 1 
 
 long and so cordially, was of the 
 most edifying and tender nature. 
 Blanche, who had intended to be 
 dignified though pious, fell to mis- 
 erable weeping, and Charlotte, 
 touched by what she supposed was 
 the sacrifice of a contrite heart, pro- 
 nounced, goddess-like, a solemn 
 benediction on Blanche's bowed 
 head. Lady Warcop's tears, how- 
 ever, were those of suppressed rage 
 and spite, and Charlotte's comfort- 
 able words, "I will make no ref- 
 erence to the past," sent her into 
 fresh spasms of grief. She remem- 
 bered every quarrel of their earliest 
 childhood : how Charlotte had 
 always been the "good "one, the 
 "forgiving" one, the one "who 
 would grow up a comfort to her 
 parents," the one who conscien- 
 tiously picked plums out of her cake 
 because they were bad for her 
 which plums, by-the-by, she used
 
 1 2 PROLOGUE. 
 
 to drop on the plate of the less self- 
 controlled Blanche. Not vainly, 
 alas ! But then, Charlotte did not 
 like the taste of plums, preferring 
 caraway seeds ! The plum story 
 loomed big in Lady Warcop's brain, 
 and she howled not for her own 
 sins, but at the remembrance of 
 Charlotte's treachery some thirty 
 years before, when they both wore 
 pinafores, and were only learning 
 to be hypocrites. 
 
 "I would not have known you," 
 sobbed her ladyship, " how you 
 have changed ! What trouble you 
 must have had ! Oh, Charlotte ! 
 and to meet after all these years 
 two old women ! When I was last 
 in this room you wore a mauve silk 
 and it went so well with your com- 
 plexion you used to have such a 
 beautiful colour and there was not a 
 line on your face or at least there 
 were only a few ; but now who
 
 PROLOGUE. 1 3 
 
 would think you were the same 
 creature ? " 
 
 "You are more fortunate than 
 I am," said Mrs. Portcullis, smil- 
 ing horribly, "for you have a 
 grown-up daughter to remind us 
 of your lost attractions ! " 
 
 Blanche gasped, but although 
 she felt the weight of Charlotte's 
 blow she was not sufficiently 
 skilled herself to appreciate its 
 science. 
 
 "Oh," she said, growing red, 
 " do you mean Teresa ? " 
 
 "Surely," quoth her sister, in a 
 tone of horror, " there is but one I 
 could mean ! " 
 
 Lady Warcop lifted her eyes and 
 gazed as bravely as she dared at 
 the miniature of the late William 
 Duncan Portcullis which reposed 
 on Charlotte's adamantine breast. 
 This miniature, however, only serv- 
 ed to produce in Blanche the kind
 
 14 PROLOGUE. 
 
 of panic which we may suppose 
 would fill any weak creature who 
 saw scalps adorning the person of 
 a warlike adversary. 
 
 "Tell me about Teresa," said 
 Mrs. Portcullis, choosing the sub- 
 ject most humiliating to her sister. 
 
 "She is at school." 
 
 " I understood she was in a 
 convent." 
 
 "Yes," faltered Lady Warcop, 
 "there is a school in the convent ! " 
 
 "From a Romish point of view 
 such equivocation, I know, is not 
 considered disgraceful. Our relig- 
 ion, thank God, is not so easy ! 
 You must send for her at once. 
 She is, if I remember rightly, eigh- 
 teen and a half, and, not to hurt 
 your feelings, she can only retrieve 
 the lamentable circumstances of 
 her birth by making a good mar- 
 riage. Although we have not met, 
 my dear Blanche, you have been
 
 PROLOGUE. 
 
 ever in my mind, and the altera- 
 tion in my appearance which you 
 find so startling is, no doubt, mi- 
 raculously evident to you because 
 your disgrace has been its sole 
 cause. Blessed with the kindest 
 of husbands and a good con- 
 science, I have had, nevertheless, a 
 constant sorrow that sorrow was 
 my sister's shame. Oh ! do not 
 suppose I utter this as a reproach ! 
 I name it because I think my long 
 years of grief give me the right to 
 express a very strong opinion on 
 the subject of your unhappy child's 
 education and future. Your own 
 sense will tell you that she must 
 be guarded far more strictly than 
 other girls. For instance, she must 
 not be seen at balls, theaters, race- 
 courses, country houses, or the 
 like, but must rest content with 
 dinners, oratorios, and good works 
 for the poor. "
 
 1 6 PROLOGUE. 
 
 "You are too kind," said Lady 
 Warcop, who had listened with 
 astonishing patience to her sister's 
 speech, "but I do not wish Teresa 
 to leave the convent at present. 
 She is extremely happy there, and 
 I can only wish that at her age I 
 might have found such a peaceful 
 home far removed from the tempta- 
 tions and wickedness of this deceit- 
 ful world ! As for her marrying, I 
 have too much reason to regret my 
 own early marriage the cause of 
 all my trouble to wish the poor 
 child to risk a similar mistake." 
 
 "You did not leave dear Douglas 
 for a richer man ! " said Mrs. Port- 
 cullis, in a tone which implied that 
 if Blanche had made a more discreet 
 choice, her sin would have been less 
 odious. 
 
 "Perhaps not," said Blanche; 
 " but I left a man who did not under- 
 stand me for one who You
 
 PROLOGUE. iy 
 
 know, Charlotte, that Sidney could 
 make himself very agreeable. There 
 were many women who would have 
 been far readier than I was to run 
 away with him. Indeed, he has often 
 said that it was my resistance which 
 chiefly excited his admiration, and 
 if I had not been so firm on my side, 
 he would not have been so deter- 
 mined on his. I saw that from the 
 first, and I cannot tell you the hours 
 we spent arguing the matter from 
 every possible point of view. He 
 used a great deal of persuasion (and 
 you may be sure I would not have 
 wasted a thought on him if he had 
 not), but I took the final step with 
 great reluctance. We may have 
 been foolish, but we meant no 
 wrong. I was unhappy ; he was 
 kind to me ; we were both young." 
 ' ' Sir Sidney was certainly young," 
 said Mrs. Portcullis. ' ' As for you, 
 I can make no excuse on the ground
 
 1 8 PROLOGUE. 
 
 of your age, for I always blame the 
 woman in such cases, and, to my 
 mind, it does not matter in the least 
 whether she be sixteen or sixty. But 
 it is a subject I must refuse to dis- 
 cuss with you, since, in the nature 
 of things, it is inexpressibly painful 
 to me. Let us return to the pressing 
 and all-important question of Te- 
 resa's future. I would suggest that 
 you send for her at once, and then 
 you may bring her with you to a 
 small dinner I am giving on the 
 twentieth. The Dundrys, the Paget- 
 Herons, and a few other old friends 
 of mine are coming. " 
 
 Blanche, who had been hopelessly 
 hoping these many years for a smile 
 of recognition from the Lady Dundry 
 (known among her intimates as 
 "Arabella, dowdy, but exclusive"), 
 no sooner heard that magic name 
 than her whole demeanor changed. 
 The little dignity and resolution she
 
 PROLOGUE. 19 
 
 had assumed fell like a veil, and it 
 was soon agreed between the two 
 women that Teresa should be sent 
 for on the morrow. 
 
 "The nuns must bring her to 
 London, " said Blanche, ' ' for Sidney 
 hates the Channel, and it is death 
 to me" 
 
 Yet she had crossed it on the great 
 occasion of her elopement. 
 
 III. 
 
 FOUR days after this interview be- 
 tween Lady Warcop and her sister, 
 Sir Sidney might have been seen 
 making his way towards Bedford 
 Row. In person he was unusually 
 handsome, his head and features 
 reminding one in a striking degree 
 of the popular representation of 
 Cicero, while his extraordinarily bril- 
 liant blue eyes and lively hair did 
 full justice to his Celtic origin. As 
 in the case of Agamemnon, there
 
 20 PROLOGUE. 
 
 were many men taller than he, but 
 in a crowd he was not to be matched 
 for grace and majesty of movement. 
 There was, however, a certain 
 studied ease in his gestures, a pre- 
 meditated charm in his manner, 
 which to those who disagreed with 
 his politics made insincerity seem 
 the sincerest thing about him. But 
 if he had not a guileless soul, he had 
 at least immaculate linen, which so 
 dazzled the spectator by its purity 
 that to a cynical mind it might have 
 seemed that in this generation a 
 good laundress is more useful than 
 a clean record. 
 
 When Sir Sidney entered the pri- 
 vate office of Mr. Robert Waddilove 
 (of the firm of Waddilove, Shorn- 
 cliffe, Shorncliffe, and Pride, Soli- 
 citors), Mr. Waddilove rose from 
 his chair, bowed, and remembered 
 the time when he would have called 
 on his client and trifled away a
 
 PROLOGUE. 2 1 
 
 pleasant morning with scandal, 
 choice cigars, incomparable sherry, 
 and a "little matter of business," 
 which came last and was invariably 
 left " to your discretion, Waddi- 
 love." But now, oh heavy change ! 
 Even as the Baronet entered he 
 looked at his watch. 
 
 "Not detain you ten minutes," 
 he said, speaking rapidly, and as 
 though he were dictating a telegram. 
 "Not legal, but domestic. Wife 
 most annoying. Teresa coming 
 home. Wife in hysterics every 
 time girl's name is mentioned. No 
 living in the house." 
 
 Waddilove rubbed his chin. He 
 was a man of middle age, short, 
 but so compactly built that to look 
 at him made one think of bricks 
 and cement. His quick brown eyes 
 were remarkable for their curiously 
 mingled expression of shrewdness, 
 scepticism, and good humor, and
 
 22 PROLOGUE. 
 
 his wry mouth showed that if he 
 drank in life like a worldling, he 
 swallowed it like a philosopher. 
 His nose was of the penetrating 
 order, and seemed to have jutted 
 prematurely from his forehead, 
 which was broad and thoughtful. 
 
 His under-lip twitched a little at 
 the close of Sir Sidney's remarks. 
 "We will call this a friendly chat," 
 he said quietly. 
 
 "Eh? "said the Baronet, with 
 a radiant air, ' ' not professional ? 
 Well, after all, it is not a legal mat- 
 ter. But you are quite sure ? Still, 
 between such old friends any ques- 
 tion of business and that sort of 
 thing is unpleasant. Conversation 
 becomes restrained at once." He 
 chose a chair, and sat in statuesque 
 ease. 
 
 "You know what women are," 
 he said. 
 
 Waddilove closed his eyes as
 
 PROLOGUE. 23 
 
 though he would exclude a painful 
 vision. 
 
 "You know what my wife is," 
 continued Sir Sidney. 
 
 The lawyer looked grave, in the 
 formal manner appropriate to the 
 discussion of family skeletons a 
 manner not so much indicative of 
 pity, which might verge too much 
 on the familiar, as of concern dis- 
 interested, brain-felt concern. 
 
 "I have nothing to say against 
 Lady Warcop," said her husband. 
 "She has many excellent qualities, 
 but on the subject of Teresa she is 
 a what-do-you-call-'em ? " 
 
 "An enigma," suggested Wad- 
 dilove, but in a voice so modulated 
 that had the word been unwelcome 
 it might have passed for a cough. 
 
 " That is the thing," said Sir Sid- 
 ney, "an enigma. And to turn 
 against her own daughter, her only 
 child ! She has not seen her since
 
 24 PROLOGUE. 
 
 she was born ; there has always 
 been some excuse. But now she 
 has suddenly sent for her, and God 
 knows why, for no sooner had she 
 written the letter than she declared 
 she would not have her in the 
 house. Damn it all ! it is my house 
 and my daughter ! When a man 
 cannot have his own way in his 
 own house, then then it conies to 
 this somebody must give in. If I 
 say, ' Blanche, I arn going to put 
 my foot down/ she begins to cry. 
 She says, too, that her hair is turn- 
 ing grey with silent worry. And 
 you know, Waddilove, she is never 
 silent, and she is no longer so young 
 that a grey hair or two seems ex- 
 traordinary. But there are quarrels 
 between us from morning till night, 
 and I cannot allow it. Life is not 
 worth living. Why did she send 
 for the girl if she did not want her ? 
 Where's the consistencv ? As I told
 
 PROLOGUE. 25 
 
 Blanche this morning 'Blanche,' I 
 said, as kindly as possible I did 
 not want a scene, as you may im- 
 agine 'Blanche,' I said, 'if you 
 will tell me why you sent for Teresa, 
 
 in the first place' But, God bless 
 
 your soul ! before the words were 
 out of my mouth she flew at me 
 like a tigress. And what do you 
 think she said? 'What! do you 
 begrudge your own child her right- 
 ful home ? I suppose you do not 
 wish to be reminded of the past. 
 For it was all your fault, although I 
 have had all the blame.' Imagine 
 her referring to dead and gone mat- 
 ters in that offensive manner ! And 
 she was the one who had been 
 abusing the poor child not I. I 
 ask you what could any man do 
 with a woman like that? " 
 
 "It is a very difficult question," 
 said Waddilove. 
 
 ' ' And there is nothing to be gained
 
 26 PROLOGUE. 
 
 by a separation," said Sir Sidney, 
 "because she is so unreasonable, 
 and can neither make head nor tail 
 of the law. There is no peace for 
 me this side of the grave. " 
 
 "What does Lady Warcop sug- 
 gest ? " said Waddilove. ' ' What are 
 her wishes in the matter ? " 
 
 "God knows ! " said Sir Sidney. 
 " If I knew what she wanted we 
 might come to some understanding. 
 But one moment she says one thing 
 and the next another. My health 
 will not bear it much longer. What 
 do you advise me to do in the mean- 
 time?" 
 
 " You must be firm," said Waddi- 
 love. 
 
 "Impossible; quite impossible. 
 Whenever I speak firmly she begins 
 to cry. You see, she is a gentle, 
 sweet-tempered sort of woman by 
 nature. One does not like to be 
 brutal. "
 
 PROLOGUE. 27 
 
 " Have you tried persuasion ? " 
 
 "I have tried everything coax- 
 ing, threatening, commanding, and 
 exhorting ; jokes, presents, theatres, 
 and sermons ; reading, singing, 
 playing, and, so far as that goes, 
 praying. No husband could do 
 more to make his wife happy un- 
 less, indeed, he blew his brains 
 out ! " 
 
 " I am afraid," said VVaddilove, 
 "you must make up your mind to 
 endure these annoyances." 
 
 Sir Sidney sighed heavily and 
 rose from his chair. ' ' Before I 
 married her," he said, "she was 
 as mild as an angel. She was a 
 little contrary now and again, but 
 one kind word, and she would do 
 anything. Douglas Cockburn never 
 understood that, and tried bullying. 
 Now I see, however, that there were 
 faults on both sides. Of course, I 
 would not say as much to any one
 
 28 PROLOGUE. 
 
 else. This is a judgment on me, 
 Waddilove, and if I did not know it 
 was a judgment I could not bear it 
 another day. As it is, I will face it 
 out to the bitter end. Good-bye." 
 
 He left the office with the uneasy 
 idea that he had been talking too 
 freely, and, as a consequence, he 
 began to hate Waddilove as a pry- 
 ing, impertinent fellow a fellow to 
 be avoided. What right had he to 
 ask so many questions ? But it had 
 been a relief to speak out : to utter 
 his feelings ; to rid himself even by 
 a straw's weight of that load of 
 sorrow, disappointment, dissatisfac- 
 tion, and weariness, the bearing of 
 which, after all, proved that his poor 
 fragment of a soul had still its use 
 in the scheme of salvation. 
 
 IV. 
 
 LADY WARCOP, meanwhile, was 
 pacing the floor of her boudoir. In
 
 PROLOGUE. 29 
 
 her hand she held the photograph 
 of a singularly plain little girl, who 
 stood in a cork grotto staring at a 
 stuffed dog. This portrait of Teresa 
 had been taken some ten years 
 before, and Blanche had lacked the 
 courage to send for another. And 
 now, without warning, to be obliged 
 to present this to the world ! It 
 was too hard, too bitter, too out- 
 rageous. Was ever woman called 
 upon to suffer such mortification? 
 As for motherly feelings, what were 
 they ? How could she love a crea- 
 ture she had never seen ? Some 
 one had once shown her an infant, 
 but she had felt too ill to notice the 
 piteous object. She did not even 
 understand that it was her own. 
 There was so much cant and non- 
 sense talked about maternal in- 
 stinct. A cab drove up to the door ; 
 with a cry, her Ladyship rushed to 
 the window. Thank goodness, it
 
 30 PROLOGUE. 
 
 was only Sidney. What suffering ! 
 What suspense ! One more day like 
 this, and she would be on her 
 death-bed. 
 
 ' ' Ah ! so you have come at last, 
 Sidney?" Where had he been all 
 the morning ? She made few de- 
 mands on his time, but she certainly 
 thought that in common decency 
 and merely for the sake of ap- 
 pearances he would have remained 
 with her to receive poor darling 
 Teresa. It was true that she had 
 not yet arrived, but this did not 
 alter the fact that he might have 
 missed her. Poor child ! a stranger 
 in her own father's house ! But the 
 world was a cruel place, and she, 
 for her part, was sick and tired 
 of it. If it were not for Teresa, 
 who needed a mother's care, she 
 was by no means sure that she 
 might not seek a speedy way out of 
 it. Suicide, of course, was wicked,
 
 PROLOGUE. 3 1 
 
 but God was never hard on women. 
 He understood them : men did not. 
 . . . Was that the bell ? 
 
 "Go and meet her," said Blanche. 
 "Try and look affectionate. I 
 want the poor little thing to think 
 we are glad to see her. As for me, 
 I feel too ill and extraordinary to 
 move. " 
 
 As she spoke, however, the door 
 was opened, and two nuns, followed 
 by a young girl, were ushered in. 
 Her Ladyship flushed and paled, 
 and, without speaking, with tears 
 raining down her cheeks, took the 
 girl in her arms, tenderly, closely, 
 as only a mother can. 
 
 Sir Sidney rubbed his eyes, almost 
 fearing to rest them on a scene so 
 beautiful, so new in his experience. 
 Blanche seemed to him transfigured, 
 and he saw in that brief moment 
 the woman she might have been : 
 all the fair ambitions she had for-
 
 3 2 
 
 PROLOGUE. 
 
 gotten, all the good impulses she 
 had not obeyed flashed their pure 
 light on her countenance. 
 
 Like some guilty creature, he left 
 the room. He was the only sinner 
 there.
 
 CHARACTERS OF THE BOOK. 
 
 LORD TWACORBIE. 
 
 SIDNEY WICHE, M.P., Proprietor and Editor 
 
 of" The Watchman." 
 NICHOLAS T. VAN HUYSTER, an American 
 
 millionaire and poet. 
 CAPTAIN SAVILLE ROOKES. 
 SIR VENTRY COXE, a -widower. 
 LADY TWACORBIE, his sister. 
 THE HON. FELICIA GORM, her step-daughter. 
 TERESA WARCOP, an heiress, cousin to Lady 
 
 Twacorbie. 
 
 LADY MALLINGER, a very young -widow, 
 LUFFY, the head-gardener. 
 SPALDING, the butler. 
 MRS. DANBY the housekeeper. 
 
 THE scene is laid at Arden Lodge, the 
 country seat of Lord Twacorbie, in Hert- 
 fordshire. The action takes place in the 
 course of twenty-four hours. 
 
 " One day is with the Lord as a thousand 
 years, and a thousand years as one day." 
 
 3
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 I. 
 
 dining-room in Arden 
 Lodge was superbly fur- 
 nished with a silver chan- 
 delier. This splendid ob- 
 ject was of such incomparable in- 
 terest that Lord Twacorbie, who 
 was a man of taste no less than 
 an economist, had the walls which 
 formed its background, bare, the 
 floor beneath covered with a plain 
 drugget, and the tables and chairs 
 in the apartment of the sim- 
 plest design. On the same artistic 
 principle, he gave large dinners, 
 ' 35
 
 36 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 at which the rarest, indeed, un- 
 heard-of delicacies, (which were 
 as disagreeable to the palate as 
 they were interesting to the explorer 
 and antiquarian), formed the brief 
 but sufficient menu. 
 
 On a certain evening in the early 
 spring of 189-, one of these dinners 
 had taken place with unusual suc- 
 cess, possibly because most of the 
 thirty guests were persons of im- 
 portance, probably because some 
 roast mutton had, by a new cook's 
 judicious mistake, formed a vulgar 
 but stimulating addition to the 
 choice viands of the banquet. The 
 ladies had left the table, and the 
 fifteen men who remained sighed, 
 some with relief, some with regret, 
 some from the force of example, 
 and some because they could dine 
 no more that day. 
 
 Lord Twacorbie was a gentleman 
 whom food did not nourish, and
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 37 
 
 whose airy shapelessness made him 
 seem in some way symbolic of the 
 universe when it was without form, 
 and void. To-night he fluttered a 
 smile like the sun's on a March 
 morning, and surveyed the com- 
 pany with the feverish gaiety of one 
 who is too seriously bored to risk 
 showing languor. He was of all 
 men the last to entertain a table, 
 yet few attempted the task so often, 
 and no one could have been more 
 ignorant of his failures. He started 
 a conversation on the Early Mar- 
 riages Bill, and quoted, with in- 
 spired inaccuracy, a speech recently 
 made on that subject by his friend, 
 Sidney Wiche. Wiche, who hap- 
 pened to be present, endured his 
 host's recital with the air of one ac- 
 customed to suffering ; at its close 
 his countenance had something 
 humorous, pathetic, and sublime 
 St. Lawrence on the gridiron saying,
 
 $8 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 "Turn me! This side is done!" 
 must have looked just so. The 
 editor of The Watchman was a man 
 of slender frame and with fewer 
 inches than the ordinary ; a small 
 mortal whose boundless spirit im- 
 prisoned yet not impatient for re- 
 lease gazed through his eyes. His 
 pale face, dull brown hair and duller 
 beard, and the absence in his manner 
 of all that marks the creature of 
 many fashions and one epoch, had 
 made him more famous for his in- 
 significance than any of his con- 
 temporaries for their distinction. 
 He was about seven-and-thirty, and 
 hard work had made him look much 
 older. 
 
 Two men who sat at the far end 
 of the table seized the advantage of 
 their position, and, talking in un- 
 dertones, studied him with lively 
 interest. 
 
 "Of course, he is clever," said
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 39 
 
 the elder of the two ; "or, at least, 
 he is a great man for the mob. 
 There is a distinction between great- 
 ness and being great in the eyes of 
 a certain class," The speaker, Sir 
 Ventry Coxe, had the so-called aris- 
 tocratic air sometimes found in 
 men of middle-class extraction, but 
 unknown amongst the old nobility. 
 Very young girls, sentimental wo- 
 men, and men of his own stamp, 
 thought him extremely handsome : 
 his features were bold and well-de- 
 fined, his dark eyes could express 
 any drawing-room emotion with 
 really excellent effect ; his thin, 
 straight lips suggested his refined 
 tastes to those who understand 
 culture as leanness and vulgarity as 
 curves. 
 
 "What do they think of Wiche in 
 America? " continued the Baronet. 
 
 "They wonder that he does not 
 marry," replied his companion;
 
 4O A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 "there are so many pretty women 
 in England." 
 
 Mr. Nicholas T. Van Huyster 
 was a young man about eight-and- 
 twenty, tall, slight, dark, and clean- 
 shaven. His face was not at first 
 sight sympathetic, but, on the other 
 hand, he did not have the aggres- 
 sive air of one who is conscious that 
 he must be known to be appre- 
 ciated. 
 
 ' ' Wiche is not popular in society, " 
 said Sir Ventry. ' ' He has no pres- 
 ence, no manners, no small talk." 
 
 "No," answered the American, 
 "he is not that modern of each May 
 so beloved of dining London." 
 
 " His family is nothing," said Sir 
 Ventry. "His mother was a per- 
 son of no education, who lived with 
 an art-critic called Wiche. By the 
 by, can you imagine a more miser- 
 able occupation than this scribbling 
 about art ? What is Art ? Madness
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 41 
 
 in most cases, and mere frippery in 
 others. And only one man here 
 and there makes it pay. Look at 
 Nature, I say, if you want beautiful 
 pictures. But I was telling you 
 about this fellow. It seems he 
 was christened Sidney Wiche ; his 
 mother said that his name was at 
 least Christian if it was not legal ! I 
 am thankful to say I never met her. 
 I do not pretend to be a saint, but a 
 woman without a conscience strikes 
 me dumb ! I feel that there is noth- 
 ing more to say ! " 
 
 "Conscience is the name which 
 the orthodox give to their preju- 
 dices," said Van Huyster. "But 
 have you ever heard," he went on, 
 drawing out his pocket-book, "that 
 Wiche's father left a very eccentric 
 will? I received this from New 
 York last night." He handed a 
 newspaper cutting to Sir Ventry, 
 who read the following :
 
 42 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 "Sidney Wiche was to be first a 
 Christian, then a scholar, and in 
 course of time a philosophical poli- 
 tician. He was not to marry, ' but, ' 
 ran the strange document, 'should 
 he feel drawn towards the married 
 state let him give the matter his best 
 consideration for a no less term than 
 five years, since marriage is of all 
 subjects the one most darkened by 
 fallacy, falsehood, and false senti- 
 ment. ' During this period of prayer 
 and reflection he was to read ' neither 
 poets nor romancers, but St. Thomas 
 Aquinas, Cardinal Newman, and the 
 great historians, who, between them, 
 would so satisfy his soul, his manli- 
 ness, and his common-sense that after 
 their company any feminine prattler 
 would seem a plague rather than a 
 treasure.' He was to shun 'as he 
 would the devil, learned ladies, ladies 
 with artistic gifts, ladies who talked 
 religion, and ladies who were not
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 43 
 
 ladies ! ' In conclusion, he was ear- 
 nestly exhorted to practice the pious 
 exercise of meditating for two hours 
 daily on his own nothingness!" 
 
 "Very interesting," remarked Sir 
 Ventry ; "but interesting things 
 are never true. " 
 
 "And the truth is only convinc- 
 ing when it is told by an experi- 
 enced liar," observed Nicholas. 
 
 "Old Wiche has been dead for 
 some time," said Sir Ventry, "and 
 I never heard that he left Sidney 
 either means of support or instruc- 
 tions ; it ought to be made known 
 if he did. One likes to hear that a 
 man has behaved like a gentleman 
 in such matters. Unfortunately, he 
 died abroad, and his affairs were 
 managed by these Italian scoun- 
 drels. One can get nothing out of 
 them. I must say I like English 
 straightforwardness. "
 
 44 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 " Tlie Watchman must bring in 
 a large income," said Van Huyster. 
 
 ''Undoubtedly," replied Sir Ven- 
 try. "But what a rag the paper 
 is ! These Radicals are ruining the 
 nation." 
 
 ' ' I thought Wiche was a member 
 of your own party. " 
 
 "My own party," said Sir Ven- 
 try, "is not necessarily my own 
 politics ! As a man," he went on, 
 after a pause, " I like the fellow 
 well enough, and now that he has 
 pushed his way into the world we 
 all try to forget his origin. But 
 with every desire to be fair, I can- 
 not bring myself to regard him as 
 a suitable match for any relative of 
 my own. It is only too well-known 
 that he admires my sister's step- 
 daughter, Miss Gorm. " 
 
 "That does not surprise me," 
 said Van Huyster, fetching a deep 
 sigh, "she is lovely. Her face is
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 45 
 
 so bright yet so delicate a star 
 wrapped in gauze ! " 
 
 Sir Ventry dropped his lower jaw, 
 but recovered it on remembering 
 that the millionaire wrote poetry, 
 very bad poetry, too. "Felicia is 
 certainly good-looking," he said; 
 ' ' perhaps you are aware that her 
 mother, the former Lady Twacorbie, 
 was an American. She made Twa- 
 corbie an excellent wife, however, 
 greatly improved the estate and 
 was very much liked by the Royal- 
 ties. She died young. " 
 
 "Good wives so often do," mur- 
 mured Van Huyster, "perhaps that 
 is one of their brightest virtues." 
 
 Sir Ventry abhorred anything in 
 the nature of satire it seemed to 
 him a convenient name for offensive 
 and unmistakable allusions to his 
 own character and career. On this 
 occasion he wondered whether Van 
 Huyster was aware that he, too,
 
 46 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 Sir Ventry Coxe, had in his day 
 buried some sixty-three inches of 
 weary perfection. He decided to 
 ignore the remark. 
 
 "One can see," he said, "that 
 Felicia is extremely un-English : 
 her manners are a little crude. But 
 I like a woman who can talk : a 
 man wants to be amused, he does 
 not want to wear his brains out 
 amusing a wife ! " 
 
 At this point Lord Twacorbie 
 rose up from the table. 
 
 The pantry was immediately be- 
 hind the dining-room and here, at 
 the close of the dinner, Spalding, 
 the butler, the head-gardener, Luffy, 
 and Mrs. Danby, the housekeeper, 
 were engaged in conversation of an 
 even more instructive nature than 
 that indulged in by Lord Twa- 
 corbie and his distinguished com- 
 pany.
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 47 
 
 "Who came down from town 
 this evening ? " asked Luffy. 
 
 "SirVentry, Mr. Wiche, Captain 
 Rookes, and this new American, Mr. 
 Van Huyster, " said the housekeeper. 
 
 "And who are the women?" 
 continued Luffy. 
 
 "Miss Warcop for one," said 
 Mrs. Danby. "Between ourselves 
 her ladyship is on the matchmaking 
 hop again. But there when did 
 she ever pull anything off what you 
 may call satisfactory? She's too 
 hopeful. And say what you like, 
 Luffy, it doesn't do to be hopeful in 
 this world. Expect nothing, I say ! " 
 The widow shook her head, and 
 heaved her breast, and hurled a 
 poignant glance at Spalding, who 
 had been shuddering on the brink 
 of matrimony for twelve and a 
 half years. 
 
 " It might be a very good thing 
 for Sir Ventry if Miss Warcop would
 
 48 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 have him," said Spalding ; "but 
 the question arises in my mind, will 
 she ? If she would take my advice 
 she would stay single ! " 
 
 "Everybody is not so wrapt up 
 in theirselves as you are, " said Mrs. 
 Danby, tartly. 
 
 "If I was a woman,'' murmured 
 Spalding, in a weak voice, ' ' the 
 man doesn't live that I would sacri- 
 fice my peace of mind for. Men 
 are not worth so much thought. 
 The devotion of women is some- 
 thing awful to think of. " 
 
 " It is," sighed Luffy, whose wife 
 had a jealous temperament, "it is." 
 
 " I can say this much," said Mrs. 
 Danby : " when Miss Warcop mar- 
 ries she will not choose a conceited, 
 self-seeking, cold-hearted, unfeeling 
 half-a-man like Sir Ventry ! I would 
 not look at him no, not if he draped 
 me in diamonds from head to foot ! 
 Mr. Wiche is the man for her."
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 49 
 
 "Not he," said Spalding, "he's 
 got his eye on Lady Mallinger. " 
 
 "If he was to roll his eyes at 
 Lady Mallinger from now till Dooms- 
 day," said Mrs. Danby, "I should 
 still say that he and Miss Warcop 
 were made for each other. And, 
 what is more, they will marry. 
 Whoever lives longest will see the 
 most. I know what I know. If 
 God Almighty intends a couple to 
 marry that marriage will come off. 
 The man can't help himself. Just 
 you bear that in mind ! " 
 
 She left them, and neither of the 
 men had the courage to smile. 
 They talked instead of the new 
 Cemetery, and grew cheerful on the 
 subject of coffins.
 
 II. 
 
 RDEN LODGE in Hertford- 
 shire is a large, white build- 
 ing surrounded by beautiful 
 grounds, and facing the finest 
 scenery in the county. This is say- 
 ing a great deal, for although Mert- 
 ford is flat and not at all wild or what 
 is called romantic, its rivers and 
 fields, gardens and woods, toy-like 
 farms and shady parks are, for their 
 kind, the prettiest in the world. And 
 one can only find such peculiar pret- 
 tiness in England ; it is so well- 
 disposed, calm and unsuggestive 
 inspiring neither passionate senti- 
 5
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 ments, nor unearthly music, nor 
 flaming words, but what, in some 
 opinions, may be better than all 
 these a dreamless, ineffable drowsi- 
 ness. 
 
 On the morning after the dinner- 
 party, a lady and gentleman were 
 strolling on the Terrace which led 
 by wide steps on to the lawn of 
 Lord Twacorbie's residence. The 
 lady was Miss Warcop : her escort 
 was Sidney Wiche. 
 
 Teresa was no longer in her first 
 youth, and she had never been 
 pretty : her oval face was colorless, 
 heavy black eyebrows overhung her 
 hazel eyes ; mouth, nose, and chin 
 were too obviously mouth, nose, 
 and chin. She was remarkable, 
 however, and only needed a repu- 
 tation for wickedness to make her 
 considered curiously fascinating. 
 
 As these two came down the steps, 
 they were commenting on the
 
 52 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 weather, the unusual warmth, seeing 
 it was but Easter, and the freshness 
 of the air. When they reached the 
 lawn, they walked in silence to a 
 seat, sat down and stared at the 
 landscape. They were evidently 
 old friends. 
 
 "Well, "said Wiche, at last, "is 
 the most practical woman in the 
 world, dreaming ? " 
 
 "I was thinking of you," she an- 
 swered, looking at him with such 
 frank, unclouded affection that he 
 blushed to think how little he de- 
 served it. He might have made 
 some answer, but as she spoke they 
 both heard the rustle of silk skirts : 
 the sound grew nearer : at last a 
 lady, charmingly attired in a gown 
 which suggested gray vapor and 
 sunlight, approached them. She 
 presented a strange effect of bril- 
 liance, fragility, and mistiness : her 
 features were soft, and her head in
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 53 
 
 profile seemed rather a shadow in 
 the air than something real or hu- 
 man. But the shadow was plainly 
 womanish one could never have 
 mistaken it for an angel's. Her 
 skin was fair, her hair light brown, 
 her eyes blue, sapphirine, deep, a 
 little troubled : she gazed at Wiche, 
 he gazed at her ; Teresa watched the 
 meeting with some uneasiness. 
 
 "I did not know that the glare 
 was so great, " she said, faintly ; 
 "I should have brought my par- 
 asol. " 
 
 " Let me fetch it ! " said Wiche. 
 
 She thanked him as, with an ad- 
 mirable semblance of good humor, 
 he left them. 
 
 " You met Mr. Wiche some years 
 ago, did you not ? " Teresa asked, 
 turning to Lady Mallinger : "did 
 you know him at all well ? " 
 
 "That would depend on what 
 you call well," said the younger
 
 54 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 woman. Her voice was strangely 
 melodious : to hear it was to think 
 of the fabulous singing 1 of fabulous 
 sirens. If she babbled of brick- 
 dust, one thought only of lute- 
 strings. For this reason she was 
 never quoted accurately. 
 
 "I mean," said Teresa, "were 
 you great friends ? " 
 
 "I should not say that." 
 
 "I thought I saw him looking at 
 you rather often during dinner last 
 evening." 
 
 ' ' Did he ? " said Lady Mallinger. 
 " I hope my hair was dressed prop- 
 erly. My maid is in love just at 
 present, and she makes me quite 
 frightful. It is not that she is ma- 
 licious, but Love is so distracting." 
 Smiling sweetly, she looked first at 
 the trees, then at the grass, and 
 finally at Teresa. ' ' In some ways, " 
 she went on, ' ' I am rather sorry to 
 renew Mr. Wiche's acquaintance :
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 55 
 
 we have nothing in common 
 absolutely nothing. He has the 
 instincts of a Turk : he does not 
 believe in a woman's intellect. 
 Sometimes I wish I really was 
 stupid and lived in a harem ! " 
 
 " My dear ! " said Teresa. 
 
 "I do, indeed : women were not 
 made to struggle and strive. They 
 ought only to be fed and clothed 
 and petted. But I thought other- 
 wise once. Before my marriage I 
 was anxious to work out a career : 
 I wanted to be artistic : I thought I 
 might become a famous actress. 
 Ah, to think of those days when I 
 was hoping and dreaming, when 
 my thoughts were my achievements, 
 when the future seemed so far and 
 the present so eternal ! " Her voice 
 trembled, she flushed and then grew 
 pale : one could imagine that she 
 was struggling in a very hurricane 
 of lost possibilities. "But when
 
 56 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 work began in earnest," she con- 
 tinued, ' ' when art became a task, 
 and dreaming, waste of time, I con- 
 fess I grew sick of ambition. I 
 only wanted to sit idle in the market- 
 place. And so I married, and 
 danced, and dressed, and chattered : 
 I gave up thinking it made me 
 too miserable." Teresa had an 
 extraordinary power of winning 
 confidences : perhaps because she 
 rarely talked. 
 
 "A woman's mission is to play 
 the fool," continued Lady Mai- 
 linger, "and that is why she can 
 only lead a man so long as she does 
 not love him. On the instant she 
 loves, she must be honest or die : 
 she loses all discretion : she quarrels 
 when she should cajole, smiles when 
 she should frown, utters ugly truth 
 when she should tell pretty lies : 
 she cannot flatter, she cannot pre- 
 tend in fact, she can do nothing
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 57 
 
 but love and that beyond sense." 
 Commanding was not the word for 
 Lady Mallinger's manner : yet there 
 was that in her air which insisted, 
 which brooked no denial, which 
 said plainly enough : "What I think 
 must be, because I was not born to 
 be disappointed ! " 
 
 " I do not agree with you, " said 
 Teresa, "because if I loved a man I 
 would have no desire to lead him. 
 I could only pray that I might not 
 prove his stumbling-block, and that 
 we might help each other to do 
 right rightly. Life is so hard to 
 live alone." 
 
 "Oh, if I only dared to be nat- 
 ural," exclaimed Lady Mallinger ; 
 "if I only dared to tell all I think, 
 and feel, and know. If I could 
 only drop this tedious gossiping and 
 grinning ! I am not tired of living, 
 but I am tired of my body of this 
 mummy-case. When I was a child,
 
 58 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 I felt old ; now I am a woman, I feel 
 young. I want to go back to the 
 youth of the world : I want the 
 time when love was the only hap- 
 piness, and folly the highest wis- 
 dom ! " 
 
 "Did you ever talk like this to 
 Mr. Wiche ? " said Teresa. 
 
 " Of course not," said Lady Mai- 
 linger. ' ' I only talk nonsense to 
 men ! " 
 
 " Dear me ! Yet I daresay they 
 like it. But I promised to show 
 Mr. Wiche the primrose path. As 
 you do not care for him, I will meet 
 him half-way. See ! he is coming 
 now." She rose from her seat and 
 hastened across the lawn in the 
 direction of the house. Lady Mai- 
 linger sat smiling to herself: she 
 had never suffered from jealousy, 
 and she thought it the drollest of 
 passions. She was on the verge of 
 laughter when Captain Rookes ap-
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 59 
 
 peared on the Terrace. He was 
 undeniably handsome : his features 
 had that harmonious irregularity 
 which is so much more like truth 
 than beauty, so much more life-like, 
 sinner-like, and love-like than per- 
 fection. His eyes flashed fire and 
 sentiment youth lacking either is 
 dull melancholy had added a force 
 to their magic. 
 
 " Are you sure," he said anx- 
 iously, as he approached Lady Mai- 
 linger, " are you sure that it is dis- 
 creet to meet here where every one 
 can see us ? " 
 
 "Of course," said her ladyship, 
 whose whole bearing and manner 
 changed, and who now assumed 
 an infantile, prattling, and pouting 
 simplicity ; " of course, I hate out- 
 of-the-way corners." 
 
 "Speak a little lower, darling," 
 said Saville, " there may be some 
 gardeners about."
 
 60 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 " That would not matter." 
 
 "Not matter? My dear Lilian, 
 you do not know the world. If the 
 world knew how much we loved 
 each other, it would grow suspi- 
 cious." 
 
 ' ' Why ? Numbers of people love 
 each other." 
 
 "Yes," said the Captain, "but we 
 are not like other people. I love 
 you too well to ask you to marry 
 me and so drag you down to a mis- 
 erable shabby-genteel existence. " 
 
 "I do not mind being poor, 
 Saville," said Lady Mallinger, 
 eagerly. " Before my marriage, 
 Papa only allowed me sixty pounds 
 a year for my clothes, and every 
 one said how well I managed. 
 That, I know, was as a girl, and, of 
 course, a married woman has to 
 dress more in a sense but a hand- 
 some mantle goes a long way. 
 Lady Twacorbie has worn that
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 6 1 
 
 satin and lace thing at least four 
 seasons : she has had the sleeves 
 altered, and it has been re-lined 
 with a different color, but it is the 
 same cloak ! And I am tired of 
 marrying for money : it is not as 
 though I had not tried it. No one 
 can say that I gave the least trouble 
 when they married me to Charles 
 although I never did admire red 
 hair, and he was the worst dancer 
 in his regiment. I know he was 
 most civil to poor Papa, but after 
 all he was not so rich as they 
 thought him, and it would have 
 been wiser, perhaps, if I had re- 
 mained single a little longer. But 
 you, Saville, I could be poor with 
 you : you are so sympathetic, and 
 you wrote me such a beautiful letter 
 when Charles died. I am sure, too, 
 that he would have been pleased 
 with that lovely wreath ! And 
 and I cannot forget the old days
 
 62 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 when we made toffee together in 
 the schoolroom at home. Do you 
 remember ? " 
 
 Saville tried to look as though the 
 toffee episode had for him thoughts 
 too deep for utterance. He flung 
 cautious glances about the scene 
 and then hastily pressed her hand. 
 
 " How can you ask ? " he said : 
 "But believe me, dearest Lilian, 
 our only duty is renunciation. I 
 mean, we must forget our love, and 
 if we can, each other. I have been 
 waiting months to find words for all 
 this: it seemed unutterable. Truth 
 is difficult, and the less one speaks 
 it the harder it grows. I have lied 
 when I pretended to be happy. I 
 find it easier after all to admit that 
 I am in despair. Yet not despair 
 because I feel that honor is still 
 dearer to me than your society. 
 The thought is hackneyed, but so 
 are the commandments. Some day
 
 A BL'XDLE OF LIFE. 63 
 
 you will meet some excellent, well- 
 meaning- man who will have a for- 
 tune worth offering you. Perhaps 
 he will not be much to look at and 
 he may not be polished in his man- 
 ners. I daresay, too, that he will 
 often say and do much which will 
 jar on your refined taste. But polish 
 is not everything ! " 
 
 " I cannot live," cried Lady Mai- 
 linger, "in an unpolished atmos- 
 phere ! " 
 
 "You see, my darling, we all 
 have to endure disagreeable things 
 in this life ; money and love never 
 seem to go together." 
 
 ' ' We should have fifteen hundred 
 a year, " whimpered Lilian. 
 
 "What is that, my dear child? " 
 said Saville. "Two thousand is 
 the lowest income I can conceive 
 myself marrying on. As I have 
 said, if I cared for you in the 
 ordinary, vulgar way, I might risk
 
 64 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 everything and urge you to ruin my 
 whole life and perhaps your own 
 as well. So, darling, is it fair to 
 tempt me ? " 
 
 "I do not want to tempt you," 
 said Lady Mallinger. ' ' I only want 
 to talk sensibly. Please, please, 
 dear Saville, do not say that I am 
 tempting you. I would not be so 
 wicked, for I am sure you only 
 want to do right, and men know 
 much more about honor and in- 
 comes and things like that than 
 women do ! " 
 
 Sweet, submissive, believing, un- 
 assertive Lilian, of a type all but 
 extinct ! Where would he find such 
 another ? He rose from his seat in 
 agitation, feeling, for the moment, 
 that he might in an emergency 
 show the splendid indiscretion of a 
 hero. But the mood passed, and 
 with it a great deal of Lady Mal- 
 linger's folly. Something else, in-
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 65 
 
 definable, chilling, deadly, took its 
 place in her soul. She, too, stood 
 up, and in silence they surveyed a 
 far-distant and sleeping cow. 
 
 "You see, Lilian," Saville stam- 
 mered at last. 
 
 " I see it all clearly," she replied. 
 ' ' I only wonder why I did not see 
 it before. It would be the greatest 
 mistake in the world for us to 
 marry ! " 
 
 This remark cut him to the heart : 
 he flushed, his whole aspect suf- 
 fered. 
 
 "No woman," he said, "could 
 say such a thing to a man she loved. 
 You cannot care for me. " 
 
 "I do indeed care for you, 
 Saville," she said, "please believe 
 me." 
 
 Rookes, happily, did not need 
 
 much persuasion to convince him. 
 
 "This world is a beastly place," he 
 
 burst forth. "It has everything to 
 
 5
 
 66 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 make one happy except happiness. 
 Look at us ! We are young, we 
 love each other, we have the same 
 tastes, and we are in the same set. 
 How we could enjoy life ! But we 
 cannot afford it." 
 
 "It is hard," said Lilian, "ter- 
 ribly hard. I daresay, though, that 
 is all for the best. " 
 
 " I must go away," said Saville : 
 " I see too much of you ; it is too 
 tantalizing ! But hush ! here comes 
 Felicia. " 
 
 " How well you know her step ! " 
 exclaimed Lilian.
 
 III. 
 
 FELICIA GORM was a young 
 girl about seventeen, with 
 large blue eyes, small regular 
 features, and rosy cheeks ; to- 
 day she was even rosier than usual. 
 "Mamma would be so grateful 
 if you would talk to Mr. Van Huys- 
 ter," she said to Saville ; "he is 
 asking so many questions about 
 England, and no one can answer 
 him." 
 
 When Rookes had left them, 
 Felicia tried to look disinterested. 
 " Have you ever noticed," she said, 
 
 "how easily he blushes. ... It 
 67
 
 68 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 does not mean anything although 
 Mama says that men only blush 
 nowadays to be mistaken for Chris- 
 tians ! I am sure that is not the 
 case with Captain Rookes. . . . Do 
 you like him ? " 
 
 "We are half-cousins ! " 
 
 The young girl sat down by her 
 side. "Dear Lady Mallinger," she 
 said, "I am dreadfully unhappy. 
 But I am so fond of you ; I am sure 
 you will help me. " 
 
 "Indeed, I will. What is troub- 
 ling you ? " 
 
 "Where shall I begin? Mama 
 sent for me this morning. I felt it 
 was to be a serious conversation 
 because she wore her coronet 
 brooch. She told me that if Mr. 
 Wiche asked me to marry him, I 
 was to say yes. Think of it ! It 
 seems they have arranged it all 
 between them ; they think he is 
 growing too democratic, and now
 
 A BUNDLE OK LIFE. 69 
 
 he has refused a Baronetcy he has 
 become more popular than ever. 
 They say it would be such an ex- 
 cellent thing if he married a Peer's 
 daughter, and Mama says I must 
 sacrifice myself for the sake of the 
 country. I am sure that marriage 
 into our family will not change his 
 opinion of the House of Lords ! I 
 have no influence with him, but 
 Mama says I must try to have 
 one ; that he must be very fond of 
 me or he would not stay here. 
 Every one knows that he detests 
 visiting as a rule. I believe he is 
 in love with you, but Mama says 
 that is an absurd idea, because he 
 knew you before you married Lord 
 Mallinger, and he is not the kind of 
 man who would fancy your style 
 of beauty in a wife. He is always 
 staring at you at any rate. Then I 
 said he seemed great friends with 
 Teresa ; but then, as Mama says,
 
 7O A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 dear Teresa is almost ugly, and if 
 he had intended to marry her for 
 her money, he would have done so 
 long ago ! So I suppose I must be 
 the one after all, and in the end I 
 shall have to accept him. But 
 but I shall always love Saville 
 best ! " 
 
 "Saville? " exclaimed Lady Mai- 
 linger, in astonishment. " Sav- 
 ille?" 
 
 " If you knew him as I do, you 
 would not wonder that I love him," 
 said Felicia, blushing deeply, "he 
 is so chivalrous, so noble, so un- 
 selfish, just like King Arthur in 
 Lord Tennyson. And to hear him 
 speak of women ! He thinks we 
 are all angels. I am so afraid, 
 dear Lady Mallinger, lest he may 
 be disappointed in us, because we 
 are not all angels, are we ? " 
 
 Lady Mallinger all this time had 
 kept her eyes on the ground, and,
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 71 
 
 but for her gentle breathing, be- 
 trayed no signs of animation. At 
 the girl's question, however, she 
 stirred. 
 
 "Has Saville told you has he 
 said has he spoken ? " 
 
 "He knows that I love him,'' 
 said Felicia, faintly. 
 
 " But has he asked you to be his 
 wife ? " 
 
 "Not in so many words, but 
 words are not everything. He is 
 not rich ; he is afraid people might 
 say you know what they always 
 say. Once he told me he wished I 
 had no money that I was poor 
 and unknown. Oh, I understand 
 him so well." 
 
 "I am sure your family would 
 not care for the match, "said Lilian, 
 at last ; "and evidently they have 
 set their hearts on Wiche. Wiche 
 is rather odd, but I was only think- 
 ing last night what a fine face he
 
 73 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 has : he would make you a kind 
 husband, and you would be 
 quite contented after a little." 
 The foolishest of mortals may often 
 be startled into a certain sagacity ; 
 and Felicia's innocence had the 
 effect of rousing Lady Mallinger's 
 common-sense which, though un- 
 disciplined and kitten-like, was still 
 promising. 
 
 "No doubt," she continued, look- 
 ing gravely at the girl's anxious 
 face, "Saville is most agreeable, 
 and it is very pleasing to think that 
 such a handsome, popular fellow is 
 in love with one. But would you 
 feel so flattered if he were plain : if 
 you heard, for instance, that he 
 was fickle, mercenary, and treach- 
 erous ! " 
 
 "But I might hear that of Wiche, 
 too," said Felicia. "You see, dear 
 Lady Mallinger, I must believe in 
 some man or I could not marry at
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 73 
 
 all ! And I would rather be deceived 
 by Saville than adored by Sidney 
 Wiche ! " 
 
 "That is absurd I should be 
 very wrong to encourage you in 
 such ideas. When you are older 
 you will see how foolish it is to 
 indulge in these fancies 1 " 
 
 "I am afraid you do not like 
 Saville, " said Felicia, suddenly. 
 
 " My dear little girl," said Lilian, 
 with great dignity, "it is only 
 because I am Saville's friend that I 
 understand your point of view ! " 
 
 "Then why are you so angry 
 with me for loving him ? I am sure 
 you would not care for any one who 
 was not noble and generous you 
 would not be his friend if he did not 
 have fine qualities ! " 
 
 Conversation between a disillu- 
 sioned devotee and an enthusiastic 
 novice is always difficult : the dis- 
 illusioned fears to be candid, and the
 
 74 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 enthusiast fears nothing ; one has 
 not learnt enough, the other has all 
 to learn. This, then, was the situ- 
 ation of Lady Mallinger and Felicia. 
 To one, Saville seemed a traitor; 
 to the other, he was a being with 
 neither body, soul, nor passions a 
 portable ideal who, at his sublimest, 
 murmured, "I love you ! " Rookes 
 was, as a matter of fact, a mortal 
 whose good intentions andgenerous 
 admiration for the admirable were 
 not steady enough to carry the load 
 of a fashionable education, nor 
 robust enough to endure the nip- 
 ping cruelty of society small talk. 
 He feared his better instincts as the 
 pious do their besetting sins, and 
 when he was surprised into one of 
 his natural virtues, his first precau- 
 tion was to make it appear a polite 
 vice. 
 
 "I will not say one word against 
 Saville." said Lady [Mallinger, at
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 75 
 
 last. ' ' I would rather not discuss 
 him. In any case I can only im- 
 plore you to obey your relatives : 
 after all they must know best." 
 
 "Then, "said Felicia, "it would 
 be useless to ask you to help me." 
 
 ' ' What can I do ? " asked Lady 
 Mallinger ; "what is there that I 
 could do ? " 
 
 "Well," said Felicia, " you see I 
 am not yet engaged to Mr. Wiche. 
 If he could only be made not to pro- 
 pose, everything would come right 
 Dear Lady Mallinger, if you would 
 only distract his attention : you are 
 so much prettier than I am, and I 
 am sure he would be far more 
 influenced by you than he ever 
 could be by me. Oh, please prom- 
 ise me that you will try." 
 
 This suggestion was not without 
 its charm. Lilian had a certain lik- 
 ing for Wiche : he appealed to her 
 head rather than to her imagination,
 
 76 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 to her sympathies rather than to her 
 senses : and, though he did not in- 
 spire her with poetic thoughts, he 
 made the prose of her existence 
 seem less like prose. 
 
 "Perhaps there would be no 
 harm," she said, "and yet " 
 
 "Oh, do promise," said Felicia, 
 "my life and soul are bound up in 
 it." 
 
 "One can tie a great many knots 
 in one's life and soul," said Lady 
 Mallinger. 
 
 "But love is so mysterious so 
 wonderful. It is the music of the 
 world. " 
 
 "It is a pity that it goes so often 
 out of tune ! " said Lilian. "Oh," 
 she added suddenly, ' ' our life is on 
 so small a scale : everything seems 
 so pretty ! Are women only born 
 to fall in love with men like Saville 
 Rookes? Why do we do these 
 things ? "
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 77 
 
 "Because there is nothing else 
 for us to do, I suppose," said 
 Felicia. 
 
 "But think of all these clever 
 women who paint pictures, and 
 make speeches, and write for the 
 papers, and sing, and act, and play. 
 Ah, how grand it must be to have 
 something serious to think of! " 
 
 "I believe they get very tired of 
 it, "said Felicia. "I am sure they 
 are not half so happy as we are. " 
 
 " Are we happy ? " said Lilian. 
 
 "Of course we are," replied the 
 young girl. ' ' What a strange ques- 
 tion ! " 
 
 "Perhaps it is strange. I feel 
 tired. " 
 
 ' ' And you look pale, " said Felicia. 
 ' ' Let me fetch you my scent-bottle. " 
 She ran lightly across the lawn and 
 up the Terrace steps without per- 
 ceiving Saville who was returning 
 from another direction.
 
 78 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 He came close to Lady Mallinger 
 and looked into her face. 
 
 ' ' You do not look well, " he said. 
 
 " I am well enough." 
 
 ' ' Did that poor little thing bore 
 you ? " 
 
 "Not at all." 
 
 "Why are you so curt ? " 
 
 "Ami?" 
 
 "Have I offended you ? " 
 
 "Oh, no," said Lady Mallinger. 
 "But you know quite well what 
 Felicia has been talking about. 
 You have acted abominably." 
 
 "What have I done?" asked 
 Rookes. "Is it a crime to pay a 
 few silly compliments to a child? 
 She is hardly more. You are surely 
 not jealous? You know you are 
 the only woman I really care for. 
 A man may love various women 
 for various reasons at all times of 
 his life, but he can only love once, 
 one way. Each experience is to-
 
 A BUXDLE OF LIFE. 79 
 
 tally different, and absolutely new ; 
 only one, however, can be quite 
 satisfactory. Now to love you is 
 my second nature ; it is part of my 
 constitution. If you do not trust 
 me, why did you encourage me ? " 
 "Why?" said Lady Mallinger, 
 with flashing eyes. "Why? Do 
 you ask me why ? I will not lie to 
 you. I loved you because I thought 
 you loved me because I felt that 
 you would help me, you, who were 
 so much stronger, so much nobler, 
 so much braver than I. When you 
 said . . . when you seemed to think 
 I had some beauty, I longed to be 
 the most beautiful of all women, 
 that you might be proud of me : I 
 longed to be royal that I might 
 throw aside my royalty and show 
 the world that I would rather be 
 ruled by you than rule a kingdom : 
 I wanted a palace that I might leave 
 it and follow you into darkness and
 
 8o A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 poverty : I wished that we lived in 
 times of danger that I might save 
 you from death, that I might lie for 
 you, hate for you, steal for you, die 
 for you ! How I have loved you ! 
 how have you deceived me ! I have 
 nothing left but contempt for both 
 of us. ... Stay there ! " 
 
 She walked away alone, and as 
 he felt too ashamed to follow her 
 footsteps, he chose another path, 
 and was therefore late for luncheon. 
 A fact which showed the injured 
 woman that her words had played 
 some havoc with his conscience.
 
 IV. 
 
 IR VENTRY had been trying 
 since noon to exchange a 
 few words of immense im- 
 portance with his sister. At 
 last, in the drawing-room after 
 luncheon, he found the moment. 
 Teresa was playing the piano : Van 
 Huyster and Felicia were within 
 sight on the lawn. Lady Mallinger 
 was cooing to some love-birds in a 
 gilt cage which hung near the win- 
 dow. Lady Twacorbie sat at a little 
 distance from the others, embroider- 
 ing an altar-cloth. She was a being- 
 
 about five-and-thirty, dressed with 
 6 81
 
 82 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 elegance, but with no attempt at 
 individuality. No doubt eleven out 
 of every dozen women in her own 
 station were wearing gowns of the 
 same hue, make, and texture. Her 
 hair was flaxen and arranged in the 
 artificial, half-grotesque style com- 
 manded by Court hair-dressers : at 
 a first glance she looked like a wax 
 doll the unchanging expression, 
 the neat, set features, the unseeing 
 eyes, had not the divine impress. 
 Yet she lived and was a woman : 
 without her false curls, her whale- 
 bones, and her stare, she was even 
 beautiful : in unguarded moments, 
 she was witty. She was not 
 accomplished, however, and had no 
 force of will : the winds of opinion 
 blew her feather-like round the four 
 corners of her boudoir. But in her 
 way she was perfectly happy : she 
 sighed for no new experiences and 
 
 wept over no old ones : life pre- 
 6
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 sented no enigmas, and, feeling 
 neither sorrow nor wonder, she had 
 no need of philosophy. She read 
 nothing, but was extraordinarily 
 observant, and had a most tenacious 
 memory for little things. For 
 instance, she could quote whole 
 conversations, and describe to a 
 half-turn just how this one entered 
 a room, that one shook hands, and 
 the other sat down : she delighted 
 afternoon callers by remembering 
 how each liked his or her tea A. 
 never took sugar, B. liked three 
 large lumps or four small ones, C. 
 only drank hot water, D. could not 
 bear the sight of cream, and so 
 on. This was the lighter side of 
 her character : she had a certain 
 amount of sentiment, and would 
 have made a devoted wife and 
 mother of the primitive type. But 
 the creatures of her world were 
 bored by devotion, so she flirted in
 
 84 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 the most religious manner possible, 
 and had an Infants' Bible-Class. 
 
 "My dear Charlotte," said Sir 
 Ventry, "has it never occurred to 
 you that Van Huyster is deeply 
 interested in Felicia ? I have ob- 
 served it for days." 
 
 "You are always making un- 
 necessary discoveries," replied his 
 sister. " You know my plans with 
 regard to Felicia. Wiche will cer- 
 tainly speak to her either to-day or 
 to-morrow. " 
 
 "Van Huyster is a far more 
 desirable match ; he is not only 
 richer, but more tractable," said Sir 
 Ventry. "If he were to speak 
 first " 
 
 "As you say," murmured her 
 ladyship, "he is enormously rich." 
 
 "Precisely: that is my point. 
 And he goes everywhere." 
 
 " But then Wiche is such a power 
 in politics," said Lady Twacorbie ;
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 85 
 
 " think what good we could do by 
 our influence over him ! " 
 
 " The country would be far more 
 grateful, " said Sir Ventry, "if we 
 helped Van Huyster to spend his 
 money in a gentlemanly manner. 
 However, it is your affair not mine. 
 I have made a suggestion : act on 
 it or not, as you please," and he 
 strutted magnificently from her 
 presence. 
 
 For some moments Lady Twacor- 
 bie did not ply her needle, but un- 
 picked the stitches she had taken 
 during the preceding conversation. 
 At last she called Lilian. " Come 
 and talk to me, my dear," she said ; 
 " I have not had a word with you 
 since breakfast. You see I drove 
 Harold to the station " (Lord 
 Twacorbie had gone to town for a 
 few days) " He was so sorry to 
 leave us." She glanced at Van 
 Huyster and Felicia who passed the
 
 86 A BUNDLE OF LIFE 
 
 window. " We are so anxious 
 about Felicia," she said ; " young 
 girls are so flighty is it reasonable 
 to suppose that they are competent 
 to select the right sort of man ? 
 Ah, if women would only choose 
 their husbands as carefully as they 
 do their bonnets, how much brighter 
 life would be ! " 
 
 " But, my dear Lady Twacorbie, 
 what would you call the right sort 
 of husband ? " 
 
 "A man," she replied, "with 
 means, position, a good digestion, 
 and sound principles : such a per- 
 son, for instance, as this excellent, 
 kind-hearted, and deserving Van 
 Huyster ! " 
 
 " Van Huyster ! ".said Lady Mai- 
 linger, in surprise. 
 
 ' ' Yes. Have you observed how 
 extremely attentive he is to Fe- 
 licia ? " 
 
 ' ' Perhaps I have, Jiow you speali
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 87 
 
 of it," said Lilian, " but I thought 
 
 Mr. Wiche " 
 
 ' ' Ah ! " said Lady Twacorbie, 
 " Mr. Wiche is all very well in his 
 proper place. I have the greatest 
 respect for his undeniable merits. 
 I hope, however I earnestly hope 
 that he will not do anything rash. 
 In fact, I may as well confess that 
 I am in a difficulty. As Harold was 
 obliged to go to town to-day, and 
 as Ventry is not well, I asked Mr. 
 Wiche if he would escort Felicia and 
 myself to the Bishop's Bazaar this 
 afternoon. I see now that it might 
 cause gossip in the neighborhood : 
 people make such absurd remarks. 
 Besides, I fear it is scarcely kind to 
 throw the poor man so frequently 
 in the dear child's society. Do you 
 think you could keep him amused 
 in some way until we have left the 
 house : we can pretend that there 
 was some blunder and perhaps take
 
 88 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 Mr. Van Huyster. . . . These things 
 are difficult to explain. " 
 
 " I think I understand, "said Lady 
 Mallinger : "of course, I will do 
 anything to make myself useful. 
 But I must at least change my 
 gown : I heard him say that he 
 liked my blue muslin ! " She went 
 out laughing so gaily, that Teresa, 
 who was playing mournful music, 
 left the piano and came down to her 
 cousin. 
 
 " What is the joke ? " she asked. 
 
 Lady Twacorbie did not hesitate 
 over her reply. She had made up 
 her mind that Teresa was dying of 
 love for the elegant Ventry and 
 would therefore have no interest in 
 the matrimonal schemes with regard 
 to Sidney Wiche. 
 
 " Ventry has convinced me with 
 regard to Van Huyster and Felicia, " 
 she said, at once. " Obstinacy is 
 not one of my faults, and I am
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 89 
 
 never deaf to reason. I have 
 arranged everything in the most 
 charming way : Lilian has agreed 
 to distract Mr. Wiche's attention. 
 Of course, dear, I would have asked 
 you, but you are much too clever ! 
 One can only trust a fool to carry 
 out a plot of this kind with success. 
 She is such a simpleton just the 
 silly creature to hoodwink a man of 
 genius ! '* 
 
 "Oh, this is too much!" said 
 Teresa. " I assure you a more ac- 
 complished actress never lived. 
 She is far cleverer than either of us. " 
 
 " Absurd ! Impossible ! " said 
 Lady Twacorbie. 
 
 " There is nothing easier than the 
 impossible for Lady Mallinger. 
 But I am sure that Sidney will see 
 through her nonsense at once ; you 
 must remember that he is my friend 
 and I have known him for years : 
 your plan will not succeed."
 
 90 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 " But he admires her extremely," 
 said Lady Twacorbie. 
 
 " Has he ever told you so ? " 
 
 " Of course not : it is because he 
 has never said so, that I am certain 
 of it. Men are dreadfully discreet, 
 my dear Teresa. I only believe in 
 what they do not say. But come, 
 we must leave the coast clear, 
 come ! " 
 
 Teresa followed her slowly.
 
 V. 
 
 ADY MALLINGER ree'ntered 
 the room a few moments 
 later, in all her bravery of 
 blue muslin, ribbons, and lace. 
 She was cooing to the love-birds 
 when Wiche came in. His acquaint- 
 ance with Lady Mallinger had ex- 
 tended over some four years : from 
 her point of view it might have been 
 called a dinner-party friendship 
 that is to say, they could discuss 
 people and subjects of the hour with 
 a freedom which passes well enough 
 for intimacy in the vagueness, 
 bustle, and gigantic pettiness of a 
 London season. But to Wiche 
 
 9 1
 
 92 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 their occasional meetings and in- 
 terchange of ideas had meant much 
 more; the man of letters is not a 
 man of letters if he accepts life and 
 the circumstances of life as they 
 appear at first sight it is the prime 
 instinct of his nature to reject what 
 seems and to clutch or die in fail- 
 ing to clutch things not as they 
 are, but as his imagination \\ T ould 
 have them. To be brief, our friend 
 had fallen in love with the idea of 
 loving Lady Mallinger. 
 
 "Do I disturb you?" he said, 
 and took a seat near her. She 
 smiled at him and made a charming 
 grimace at her pets. 
 
 ' ' There is a bazaar at the Bishop's 
 this afternoon," he continued, "and 
 I believe I was expected to go, but 
 as Van Huyster enjoys these things 
 and I do not, I have asked Lady 
 Twacorbie to take him in my stead. 
 I hope she will not be offended, but
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 93 
 
 I really wanted to get a quiet hour 
 with you." 
 
 Her heart jumped and she studied 
 him with a new interest. There is 
 one glory of the friend, and another 
 glory of the possible lover. For 
 the first time she discovered that he 
 had a certain intensity, a masterful 
 air, a look of determination all of 
 which she admired. 
 
 "We have so few opportunities to 
 speak to each other," he said. 
 
 ' ' You have changed since I first 
 knew you," cried Lady Mallinger : 
 " we were such good friends once, 
 and now when we meet I hardly 
 know how to describe it there is a 
 coldness, a restraint. I have feared 
 that you did not like me. But I am 
 saying too much." 
 
 "If I told you that there was 
 indeed a reason for my restraint, 
 would you care ? " 
 
 She put her lips to the cage and
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 piped, apparently to the birds 
 "Tell me the reason ! " 
 
 "Have you never guessed it? 
 was I so hard to understand ? " 
 
 " I could never understand any 
 man, but then a man never seems 
 able to explain himself, does he ? " 
 
 "It may be that he dare not try," 
 said Wiche. 
 
 "What could he fear?'' she 
 asked; "can it be that men know 
 how unstable they are ? I always 
 thought they could not, because 
 they never try to be firmer. And I 
 love firmness ! Now we women 
 know only too well that we are 
 very weak, very foolish, very shal- 
 low, and we wonder what men can 
 see in us ! We must be so tiresome ! 
 such burdens ! such unnecessary 
 evils ! such tedious, provoking crea- 
 tures ! Some of us may have some 
 beauty ; yet that soon goes, and 
 then there is nothing left of us but
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 95 
 
 a headache ! Oh, do not look sur- 
 prised : I fear I am growing cynical. 
 I am beginning to agree with many 
 of your views on the soul, and 
 death, and marriage, and things of 
 that order ! " 
 
 "Ah! never trust a man's opin- 
 ion on any subject until he has been 
 in love, " said Wiche. ' ' Love is the 
 only thing which can make life as 
 clear as noon-day." 
 
 "Then I suppose you still find it 
 dark and perplexing ! Dear me ! 
 how idly I talk. I meant to say 
 but would it be impertinent ? I was 
 only thinking that a day, an hour, 
 perhaps a few words might make 
 all the difference in your ideas ! " 
 
 "If I told you," said Wiche, 
 "that sleeping and waking I 
 heard but one voice, saw but one 
 face. " 
 
 "Does it bore you ? " she asked ; 
 "would you rather not see it ? "
 
 96 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 "Each day," he continued, "it 
 grows dearer to me, more beautiful, 
 more ah ! if I waited until I were 
 more eloquent I would never speak, 
 never tell you my one hope, my one 
 aim, my one ambition above all 
 things, beyond all things, before all 
 things. Just to gain you ; to gain 
 you just that. I would not own 
 it was impossible, I only saw you, 
 loved you and waited. You passed 
 me by, you hardly knew me. I 
 was only one in a crowded world. 
 A friend ? Yes, when you remem- 
 bered me. Was that often ? Some- 
 times we talked together : once I 
 wrapped you in your opera cloak, 
 have you forgotten ? I touched 
 your cheek it was an accident. " 
 
 "As you say," murmured Lilian, 
 "it only happened once." 
 
 "Another time you leant for a 
 moment on my arm. " 
 
 ' ' That was a year ago. "
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 97 
 
 "In March," he said, "it was a 
 perfect night." 
 
 "Oh, no ! it rained." 
 
 "A perfect night," he repeated, 
 moving nearer, "and you never 
 guessed how much I loved you 
 how much you were to me, how 
 much I loved you ! How beauti- 
 ful, how very beautiful " He 
 
 kissed her. 
 
 Lady Mallinger started away in a 
 sudden panic. "I did not mean to 
 say so much, " she said. ' ' I did not 
 mean but hark ! " She put her 
 finger to her lips and flew across 
 the room into a large chair with 
 wide arms. These concealed her 
 from Teresa Warcop who now en- 
 tered. She was evidently much 
 agitated in spite of her quiet man- 
 ner. "I am so glad to find you 
 alone, " she said to Wiche, ' ' because 
 I must speak to you. But first let 
 me say, in justice to myself, that I
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 am not a mischief-maker. If I ever 
 seem meddlesome it is only because 
 I am so interested in my friends 
 that I cannot remain silent when 
 speech would be of service to 
 them." 
 
 "You have too much heart, "said 
 Wiche. 
 
 ' ' I cannot bear to see a man de- 
 ceived, trifled with, made a jest for 
 chattering vixens ! " said Teresa, 
 passionately. 
 
 " The worst of it is that he rarely 
 shows gratitude if one endeavors to 
 enlighten him." 
 
 "A thankless task, I know," said 
 Teresa; "but if we only do our duty 
 for the sake of being thanked we are 
 miserable creatures. . . O Sidney ! 
 never trust a woman ! At least, 
 never trust blue eyes ! Oh ! when 
 I think of it, I lose all patience, 
 almost all charity. That such a 
 man should be duped by such a 
 7
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 woman ! Woman, did I say ? No, 
 a mere bundle of fire and frivolity ! " 
 
 "How much more promising 
 than mere flesh and blood," ex- 
 claimed Wiche. 
 
 " She made a bargain," said Te- 
 resa, "a kind of wager that she 
 would force you into a flirtation. 
 And she thinks she is succeeding : 
 she even began her machinations at 
 luncheon. I saw it all : her looks, 
 laughs, sighs. Oh, it was insup- 
 portable ! " 
 
 "Are you speaking of poor little 
 Felicia ? " said Wiche. 
 
 "Felicia?" said Teresa. "Feli- 
 cia? When I speak of a creature 
 with neither heart, morals, mind, 
 nor beauty a heap of lies, vanity 
 and affectation I mean Lady Mai- 
 linger." 
 
 Wiche grew so pale that Teresa 
 half with jealousy and half with 
 fright grew even paler. She
 
 IOO A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 held out both her trembling hands 
 and stumbled blindly towards 
 him. 
 
 ' ' My heart has been with you, " 
 she stammered. " I feel it all, see 
 it all, know it all." 
 
 What she meant she hardly knew. 
 He neither looked nor uttered a 
 reply; but, brushing past her with 
 a gesture hard to translate, walked 
 to the window. A stillness almost 
 like some grim and living presence 
 filled the room. Teresa remained 
 in her rigid attitude, staring, with 
 despairing tenderness, not at the 
 man, but at the place where he had 
 stood. 
 
 "A wager! a bargain!" said 
 Wiche, at last. "I "do not under- 
 stand." 
 
 "Nor did I when I first heard 
 it," said Teresa. " I could scarcely 
 believe anything so odious, even of 
 her. And I have heard a good
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. IOI 
 
 many stories, too ! But Charlotte 
 explained the matter only too 
 clearly. Lilian was to distract you. 
 That was the expression : her own 
 words." She paused a moment. 
 Wiche never stirred, but kept one 
 unchanging expression, which be- 
 trayed nothing save its unchange- 
 ableness. " Have I been wrong to 
 tell you ? " she went on ; " have I 
 been wrong? But friendship, my 
 sense of justice, and you the 
 noblest man I know, the one above 
 all others I I respect." 
 
 "I do not understand you or 
 her," said Wiche, at last. 
 
 "My dear friend, men only un- 
 derstand the kind of woman who is 
 more masculine than a man ! . . . 
 But, Sidney, are you vexed with 
 me ? Have I been too zealous ? 
 You know, you surely believe I 
 meant no malice? Yet I cannot 
 say that I feel any kindness for
 
 IO2 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 Lady Mallinger ; that would be im- 
 possible. I despise her ! " 
 
 " Is that necessary ? " said Wiche. 
 
 "Can I forgive her conduct to- 
 wards yourself ? Not that she has 
 succeeded in fooling you. But the 
 attempt I cannot forgive the at- 
 tempt. What impudence ! what 
 presumption ! " 
 
 "Ah, there you are unjust ! The 
 feat was well within her power : I 
 was only too willing to be fooled. " 
 
 "Willing!" cried Teresa. 
 ' ' Where is your spirit ? How weak 
 a man is after all ! What a mercy 
 that she cannot hear you : it would 
 make her even vainer than she is 
 by nature." 
 
 ' ' I fear we are growing too old 
 and prosaic," said Wiche, bitterly ; 
 "no wonder these young people 
 try to rouse us." 
 
 "Sidney! . . . Do I seem so 
 old?"
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 103 
 
 "No one would guess your age," 
 he said, without looking at her. 
 
 "Unfortunately, you know it!" 
 said Teresa. "Would you have 
 forgiven me, if I had made such a 
 bargain as this other woman ? I 
 think not." 
 
 Wiche did not hear the remark, 
 or if he did, he made no reply. 
 
 She swallowed a sob and left the 
 room.
 
 VL 
 
 ADY MALLINGER came for- 
 ward half-crying, half-defiant 
 "I cannot, I will not be- 
 lieve one word Teresa has 
 said ! ' ; exclaimed Wiche. " She is 
 the most honest soul in the world, 
 but she makes mistakes." 
 
 "You would be wiser," said 
 Lilian, slowly, "if you believed 
 her." 
 
 "So you admit it," he said. 
 " Do you think that Love is a play- 
 thing ? a mood for a dull afternoon ? 
 a frame of mind to jump in and out 
 
 of just for amusement ? Is it noth- 
 104
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 105 
 
 ing to stake your life on another's, 
 to be faithful when they are faith- 
 less, strong when they are weak? 
 Is it so little to love like this ? Do 
 you think it is so easy ? Do you 
 think it brings much happiness ? " 
 Until that hour, the devotion he 
 had felt for Lady Mallinger was 
 of that unreal kind which is only 
 dangerous so long as its object re- 
 mains an idea. It was to a great 
 extent theoretic, and based on the 
 dogmas of erotic poetry : in her 
 image he loved a dozen heroines 
 not one woman. Now that he had 
 kissed her, however, and she had 
 shown herself sufficiently human 
 to rouse his anger, the whole rela- 
 tion changed. He no longer saw 
 her through the mist of sentimental 
 fancy ; she was simply a pretty 
 woman who attracted him. He 
 felt vaguely that she might tempt 
 him to say and do much which he
 
 IO6 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 would surely repent of. He re- 
 peated again, ' ' Do you think such 
 love brings much happiness ? " 
 
 ' ' Ah ! if you only knew me as 
 I know myself," murmured Lady 
 Mallinger. " All that Teresa said 
 of me was true and yet, not true 
 enough. Everything about me was 
 falsehood and pretence, until until 
 you seemed to believe in me. Do 
 you understand ? Can you not see ? 
 Are you so unforgiving, or are you 
 only blind? Why are you so 
 silent ? " 
 
 She held out her hand, which he 
 took half eagerly and half in dread : 
 her lightest touch seemed so much 
 more satisfying than all the wisdom 
 of the ancients. 
 
 "If I could only remain silent," 
 said Wiche, passionately; "if I 
 could only keep you only feel that 
 you were mine mine mine at all 
 risks ! Yet no you act too well.
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 I could never know how much I 
 was mistaken. " 
 
 "Why should we refuse the 
 happiness this hour gives us, be- 
 cause some other hour might take 
 it away? In the meantime, there 
 can be no better thing than this. 
 No one before has ever cared 
 whether I was in jest or earnest," 
 she faltered; "every other man 
 takes it for granted that I am heart- 
 less, brainless, and soulless in any 
 case. When I am serious, they say 
 I am in low spirits ; when I am 
 sincere, they praise my hypocrisy. 
 So I take refuge in deceit, and I 
 succeed so well that now I have 
 deceived myself, and I no longer 
 know what I mean, what I want, 
 what I think, or what I am ! To 
 judge me fairly, you should have 
 lived my life. My father was not 
 kind ; at eighteen I married. The 
 world liked my husband : he ate
 
 IO8 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 too much, drank too much, and made 
 too merry with other people's lives. 
 No one knows what I have suffered. 
 I have only found one thing which 
 outweighs disappointment bitter- 
 ness all all that is harsh, heavy 
 to bear, and terrible. That moment 
 that one moment when you trusted 
 me. ... It was so unexpected. I 
 had always liked you as a friend ; but 
 you seemed so far away, and I 
 thought you could only have con- 
 tempt for me and my vain, hopeless 
 life. And the end of it all? Do 
 you suppose I never think of that ? 
 Every night I say to myself, ' An- 
 other day has gone ; another day of 
 false hopes, false friends, false 
 loves, false hates, false griefs ! ' 
 Think of it ! Not even a real grief : 
 my life, myself, all all a sham ! " 
 " Help me to be as honest as you 
 are," said Wiche : "is there not 
 eternity before us ? the longest past
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 1 09 
 
 is but a second in comparison. 
 See!" he said, kissing her, "we 
 have forgotten it already ! " 
 
 Men may still find oblivion in a 
 kiss, but women of fashion are 
 always or nearly always too self- 
 conscious to forget the artificialities 
 of life in the verities of passion. 
 
 "Forgotten already?" repeated 
 Lady Mallinger, moving away from 
 him, "I wish it were. Do not be 
 angry with me, but I must be alone 
 a little. There are so many things 
 to think about so many things. 
 Give me half-an-hour. " 
 
 " So much ? " said her lover. 
 
 " Have we not eternity before 
 us ? " she replied. 
 
 Wiche laughed, kissed both her 
 hands, and went out on to the Ter- 
 race : he found it almost as delight- 
 ful to obey her whims as to worship 
 her beauty. Only the strong-mind- 
 ed can know the extreme pleasure
 
 IIO A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 of self-surrender. Wiche's life had 
 been so hard, so serious, and, in a 
 sense, so wise until this too-en- 
 chanting present that he seized its 
 madness rather as a reward from 
 the gods than a curse. He put all 
 thought of the future from his mind 
 not because he feared it, but be- 
 cause it possessed no attraction for 
 him. Lady Mallinger was an inex- 
 haustible delight : egoism, which in 
 any other woman seemed intoler- 
 able was, in her case, the most 
 charming thing in the world : self- 
 ishness, he argued, where the self 
 was so perfectly bewitching even 
 amounted to a duty : dull, tedious, 
 and unpleasant beings did well to 
 lose sight of themselves, but for 
 Lilian to forget herself would be 
 like a flower forgetting to bloom. 
 
 When Wiche had gone Lilian 
 paced the floor and mistook this 
 bodily exercise for deep thought.
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. I I I 
 
 She was brought to a standstill by 
 finding herself face to face with 
 Teresa, who, not being able to quiet 
 her soul, had returned in the hope 
 of seeing Wiche once more. 
 
 "You look depressed," she said 
 to Lady Mallinger : "at luncheon 
 you were all vivacity, epigram, and 
 paradox. If you had not told me I 
 should never have suspected that 
 you considered it your vocation to 
 play the fool ! " 
 
 " Ah, I am much wiser since our 
 conversation this morning," said 
 Lady Mallinger. "I am sure that 
 the supreme happiness of a woman's 
 life is to devote herself to the man 
 who loves her : to be his friend, his 
 ideal, his good angel ! " 
 
 Teresa smiled bitterly. "And 
 the supreme difficulty of a woman's 
 life," she said, "is to find the man 
 who desires such devotion, who has 
 an ideal, who wants a good angel !
 
 112 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 The best of men only ask us to be 
 forever young and forever pretty : 
 let your conscience go to the dogs 
 but keep your freshness. Virtue 
 never yet atoned for wrinkles ! " 
 
 " There I cannot agree with you, " 
 said Lady Mallinger. " I am sure 
 that there is nothing so fascinat- 
 ing as sincerity ! It is so uncom- 
 mon. I am going to be the most 
 sincere woman in the world and I 
 must begin by telling you that I 
 was present just now during your 
 conversation with Mr. Wiche." 
 
 " What conversation ? " said 
 Teresa. 
 
 "Let us both be sincere, dear 
 Miss Warcop ! I was sitting in 
 that green chair when you men- 
 tioned my name, my first impulse 
 was to rush forward : curiosity, 
 however, intervened, and I remain- 
 ed in my corner. Perhaps this was 
 wrong, but my position was diffi-
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 cult : to begin with, I agreed per- 
 fectly with every word you said : 
 you were only too charitable. I 
 assured Mr. Wiche of this after- 
 wards, but he would not believe 
 me. When I told him that I had 
 indeed neither mind, morals, heart, 
 nor beauty, he looked so incredu- 
 lous, and was so deaf to all argu- 
 ment that I despair of convincing 
 him ! Men are so prejudiced. 
 What would you advise me to 
 do?" 
 
 "This sarcasm does not cut ! " 
 "Sarcasm!" cried Lilian, "I 
 was never more candid, more 
 natural, more absolutely trans- 
 parent in my life. Why should I 
 dissemble when I have found that 
 you know me even better than I 
 know myself?" 
 
 " This innocent air may deceive 
 some infatuated man for a time," 
 
 said Teresa, "but I understand it 
 8
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 too well. How can you dare to 
 look so amiable when you know 
 that you hate me. . . . You 
 must hate me." 
 
 "Not at all : I think you are in- 
 discreet and perhaps too impulsive, 
 but, on the whole, I admire your 
 character : it has a stability, a dog- 
 gedness, a courage which mine 
 lacks. I would never have the 
 audacity, for instance, to discuss 
 your faults with Sir Ventry. He 
 would, I hope, be quite as blind 
 with regard to you as my future 
 husband is where I am concerned. " 
 
 "Your future husband?" said 
 Teresa. 
 
 "Yes," said Lady Mallinger. 
 "Sidney was foolish enough to ask 
 me to be his wife at least, in so 
 many words and I was wise 
 enough to accept him ! If he will 
 only trust me and believe in me 
 always if he will only see me
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. I I 5 
 
 not as I am, but as I should be I 
 am sure we shall be happy ! " 
 
 "It is not hard to be good when 
 you have love and sympathy and 
 encouragement, " said Teresa, warm- 
 ly, "but to be good when not one 
 soul cares whether you live or die, 
 when your kindest thoughts, your 
 least selfish acts, your dearest sac- 
 rifices are treated alike with insult, 
 cruelty, and contempt to be good 
 then, that is the great achievement. 
 Stand alone, be indifferent to smiles 
 and frowns, keep your eyes steadily 
 fixed on one unattainable ideal and 
 condemn in yourself all that falls 
 short of it, do that and I will call 
 you happy ! Defy slander, defy 
 the malice of evil tongues and false 
 hearts, defy even one rule of 
 etiquette ! " 
 
 "No woman has anything to fear 
 except the truth," said Lady Mai- 
 linger, "so long as the truth will
 
 Il6 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 bear telling, she can laugh at lies. 
 They may for a time work mischief, 
 but only for a time." 
 
 "I, too, could have such a faith 
 in the triumph of virtue if I had such 
 a lover as Sidney ! " said Teresa, 
 ' ' but live my life for a month and 
 then tell me your philosophy ! " 
 
 "You look cold," murmured 
 Lilian, after a shiver and a slight 
 pause. 
 
 " Cold ! I am always cold : feel 
 my hand." 
 
 Lady Mallinger held it to her own 
 pink cheeks. "You make me like 
 you," she said. "As a rule I do not 
 care for women, and you are almost 
 as spiteful as the rest. But there is 
 something about you. . . . You 
 believe me, when I say I like 
 you ? " 
 
 ' ' Yet you have robbed me of my 
 one friend," cried Teresa, "you 
 you who have so much already.
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 1 17 
 
 You are young and he thinks you 
 are beautiful : I shall soon be old 
 and I was always plain : many men 
 have loved my money, but no one 
 has ever loved me. In the Convent 
 I was brought up in a Convent 
 the sisters taught me how to live in 
 Heaven : they forgot I had to get 
 through the world first. My parents 
 are dead and now I have nothing in 
 this life except my wretched, hope- 
 less interest in a man who has 
 never given me a thought. Per- 
 haps I need not say that. He is 
 the only man I know who has not 
 asked me to marry him, so I think 
 he must like me a little. And he 
 comes to see me very often. But 
 you only care for him because he 
 flatters you, you are proud of him 
 because he is distinguished, but I 
 was proud of him when he was 
 poor and obscure, when every one 
 thought him an outcast, when it
 
 Il8 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 was almost a crime in our miserable 
 little corner of society to be seen 
 even bowing- to him. You do not 
 understand him as I do : you can- 
 not help him as I could : you play 
 on all his weaknesses : every hour 
 he spends with you will be a step 
 backwards. Oh ! he is no hero in 
 my eyes, no passionless, faultless 
 machine, but a Man. . . . Go ! tell 
 him all I have said, laugh at me, 
 pity me, say ' Poor woman ! That 
 so plain and dull a creature should 
 fall in love ! How pathetic ! how 
 ridiculous ! ' ' 
 
 Before Lilian could reply, Teresa 
 rushed out of the room. Lady 
 Mallinger rubbed her eyes : she, 
 too, had once loved like this and 
 she had been deceived. The mere 
 remembrance of Saville drove all 
 other thoughts from her mind : she 
 forgot Wiche, she forgot Teresa, she 
 forgot everything the universe
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 contained but two beings herself 
 and Rookes. Fate brought him to 
 her at that critical moment. 
 
 " I have been for a stroll with Sir 
 Ventry," he began awkwardly. 
 ' ' I I am wretched. Are you still 
 angry ? " 
 
 "I do not think we can have 
 anything to say to each other, 
 Saville," she said; "the last 
 words were spoken this morning. 
 I could wish they had been kinder : 
 I should like to remember that we 
 parted, at least as friends. We 
 were so much to each other once 
 once we thought it could never 
 come to this. . . . Please leave 
 me." 
 
 "No, I have been longing for a 
 chance to speak to you, now I 
 have found it, you must listen. I 
 will not attempt to defend myself 
 
 "You cannot: how could you?
 
 I2O A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 You might perhaps say that you 
 became desperate about your debts, 
 and so in a sort of madness 
 thought to marry Felicia for her 
 money. You might say ah, a 
 thousand things, but they could 
 make no difference. It is too late 
 to think of them. " 
 
 "Too late?" said Rookes. "How 
 can it be too late when you are 
 there and I am here." He knelt 
 down by her side and, custom prov- 
 ing too strong for him, kissed her 
 cheek. Custom was, perhaps, too 
 strong for her also : at all events, 
 she made no resistance. "You 
 know my faults, " he went on, " you 
 could never have loved me for my 
 perfection. " 
 
 "I loved the man you might 
 have been," she murmured, "not 
 you at all. " She glanced down and 
 found her hand lying in his. "Not 
 you at all," she repeated. "Be-
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 121 
 
 sides ... it really is too late. I 
 I have lost the right to listen to 
 you."
 
 VII. 
 
 F'N the meantime Wiche's half- 
 hour had come to an end. The 
 clock was chiming five when he 
 appeared at the drawing-room 
 window. Rookes sprang to his 
 feet : Lady Mallinger affected to 
 laugh. 
 
 "My cousin is teasing me," she 
 said; " he will not let me tell him 
 that I am really a very serious 
 woman. He he does not believe 
 in me as you do ! " As she spoke 
 she touched Wiche's arm as though 
 to assert her ownership. Neither 
 
 of the men spoke : a footman 
 122
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 123 
 
 entered and announced that tea was 
 served on the lawn. 
 
 1 ' We must go then, " said Lilian. 
 She led the way, but when she 
 turned, she found that only Wiche 
 had followed her. 
 
 "It is as well," she said, in her 
 prettiest manner ; " we are happier 
 by ourselves ! " This was no doubt 
 charming, and it may have been 
 true. Wiche, however, was no less 
 troubled by the fact than the possi- 
 bility. Both were distracting, for, 
 at that moment, he wished to over- 
 look her fascination and think only 
 of what was certain. And the one 
 thing certain was, in his judgment, 
 her love for Rookes. This truth 
 like all truths had flashed upon 
 him like a message from his guardian 
 angel. 
 
 "Do not look so grave," said 
 Lady Mallinger ; "we have been 
 serious the whole afternoon, and
 
 124 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 now I want to rest ! Do you like 
 me in pink? Because I have the 
 loveliest pink satin which I am 
 dying to wear this evening." 
 
 "How old are you?" he said, 
 suddenly. 
 
 "Oh! My dear, dear Sidney! 
 One can see that you have never 
 made love before ! How old am I ? 
 I forget : I was born so long ago. 
 I must be at least twenty-two. Of 
 course, I look even more, but then 
 my life has been so unhappy. Now 
 it will all be different, and perhaps 
 I shall grow young again. You 
 will be kind to me, will you not ? 
 And patient ? And you will not ex- 
 pect to find me very good, and 
 very truthful, and very quiet all at 
 once. You will give me time ? 
 And you will not often be as cross 
 as you are now, will you ? " At 
 length she saw it was useless to ig- 
 nore the demon who sat between
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 1 25 
 
 them. "It was not my fault," she 
 said, "it really was not my fault. 
 I told Saville I had lost the right 
 to listen to him. And now you 
 are blaming me. It is so hard 
 that I must always be made miser- 
 able even when I have made up 
 my mind to be contented. I have 
 tried my very best," she added, 
 "to be happy this afternoon ! " 
 
 "Was it such an effort?" said 
 Wiche. 
 
 "All all is an effort," she an- 
 swered, " except folly. That seems 
 the only easy, natural, and pleasant 
 thing in the world ! " 
 
 "What do you call folly ? " 
 
 " Everything I want to do, every- 
 thing I want to say, everything I 
 care for that is what I call folly." 
 
 "My dear," said Wiche, " you 
 are in love. And Rookes is the 
 man ! " 
 
 "Tut! How little you know
 
 126 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 me ! I admit that I am greatly at- 
 tached to Saville in spite of his 
 faults, but then I have known him 
 so long ! But in love with him 
 never ! We are the dearest friends 
 possible, and quarrel incessantly 
 but that is all ! " 
 
 "Are you sure? "said Wiche, 
 " are you sure that is all ? " 
 
 She made no answer, but, sooth- 
 ing her lace which fluttered a little 
 in the breeze, hummed without 
 knowing it, 
 
 " Virtue how frail it is ! 
 
 Friendship how rare ! 
 Love, how it sells poor bliss 
 For proud despair ! " 
 
 "That," said Wiche, gravely, 
 "is what Rookes was singing last 
 evening." 
 
 ' ' Pity me, " she murmured. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " I adore him ! "
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 127 
 
 While we exist we can never es- 
 cape any stage of development ; 
 if our infancy be prematurely wise, 
 our years of discretion will have an 
 inappropriate childishness. Lilian 
 was living life backwards, and her 
 sudden moods of immaturity which 
 may have accounted for Rookes's 
 corresponding moods of fickleness, 
 filled Wiche with dismay. Passion 
 in these circumstances was impos- 
 sible : affection became angelic, 
 and sentiment lost all question oi 
 sex. 
 
 ' ' I adore Saville, " she repeated, 
 and looked at Wiche with so be- 
 seeching an air, with such utter 
 helplessness and irresponsibility 
 that he wondered how he could 
 ever have mistaken her for a 
 woman. He still recognized her 
 grace and beauty, but it roused in 
 him the same kind of emotion a 
 man might feel on seeing the child
 
 128 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 of one he had loved deeply and 
 who was dead. It was a sorrowful 
 task to trace the resemblance : to 
 note the likeness in line, and deli- 
 cate tones and expression :. to say 
 to himself, "Lilian's mouth had 
 that curve, her eyes were that 
 color, her throat was as white ? " 
 
 "You must forget," he said, 
 ' ' you must forget if you have not 
 already forgotten all that passed 
 this afternoon. It was a great mis- 
 take." 
 
 // was a great mistake. Lady 
 Mallinger brushed the echo of these 
 words from her ear : she would not 
 believe that they had ever been 
 uttered. "This is what comes," 
 she thought, " of telling a man the 
 the truth : he flies ! " 
 
 "You may have made a mis- 
 take," she replied, " but I have said 
 nothing to you which I could ever 
 wish to unsay. Saville told me this
 
 A LUXDLE OK LIFE. 
 
 morning that men may fall in love 
 dozens of times, but that each 
 experience is new. They can only 
 love once one way. This is true of 
 women also. And it all comes to 
 this : love is precisely the same 
 kind of emotion as religion. Oh, if 
 we would only be as patient with 
 human nature as God is ! Some 
 days we are more devout than 
 others : the saint who appeals to 
 you in one mood may repel you in 
 another : this month we devote our- 
 selves to Our Lady, and another to 
 St. Paul ; some people, too, mistake 
 incense for dogma, and love of 
 music for love of virtue. But the 
 folly and sensuousness of creatures 
 like myself cannot touch the great 
 unalterable truths. I may never 
 know them as they are, but they 
 have been known. You will wonder 
 what I am trying to tell you. It is 
 hard to say : I believe I mean that 
 9
 
 130 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 my adoration of Saville is not very 
 serious ! " 
 
 Wiche was a man who had learnt 
 what he knew of human nature 
 through self-discipline and not 
 through self-abandon. Knowing 
 therefore his own character and its 
 possibilities so well, he was 
 astonished to find that Lilian's was 
 so like subject, of course, to cer- 
 tain feminine modifications. He 
 was acquainted with many men 
 who could give an accurate appraise- 
 ment of each and all their impulses, 
 thoughts, and emotions, who were 
 such skilled self-analysts that they 
 never by any chance confounded 
 their soul with their body, or their 
 conscience with either. He had 
 never met a woman, however, who 
 possessed this power even in a slight 
 and half-unconscious degree ; he 
 looked at Lilian and felt that while 
 she had cured him of his fit of love,
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 131 
 
 she had never seemed so deeply 
 interesting as a fellow-creature. 
 
 "My dear," he said, "you must 
 surely see that we should be 
 wretched if we married." 
 
 " Why ? " said Lilian, " it would 
 be such a comfort to me to have 
 some one I could really trust and 
 believe in ; some one who would 
 help me to be serious ; to know one 
 being at least who was not led away 
 by all manner of idle fancies ! " 
 
 The irony of the situation would 
 have been ludicrous if it had not 
 been so heart-breaking. 
 
 " Do not imagine that I am that 
 one being," said Wiche, hastily. 
 : 'God knows I am flimsy enough. 
 And I am afraid it is always dis- 
 astrous to pin one's faith to a mere 
 mortal. Even the best of us are 
 miserably imperfect as rocks of 
 defence ; you see we are flesh-and- 
 blood, we are not granite."
 
 132 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 "Treat me as though I had a 
 mind, Sidney," she said, "and I 
 will follow you to the ends of the 
 earth ! " 
 
 "I do not think," he stammered, 
 "we could ever be happy to- 
 gether." 
 
 " You mean, " said Lady Mallin- 
 ger, "that you do not care for me 
 in the way you thought." 
 
 "I will always be your friend," 
 
 he said, firmly, "but " Her 
 
 sense of what was just and meet 
 told her that it only remained now 
 to call her soul into her eyes, gaze 
 mournfully at Wiche, and leave him. 
 Saville after all loved her the besi. 
 
 Women like Lady Mallinger have 
 to die young in order to be under- 
 stood : then and then not always 
 some onlooker more discerning 
 than the others will see in the cold 
 body some trace of a fiery spirit too 
 ardent and too restless for mortality.
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 133 
 
 Alas ! poor soul. Seeking the high- 
 est, best, most beautiful, and purest 
 and finding a Saville Rookes. 
 
 The modern is always an unwill- 
 ing slave to sentiment : if he find 
 himself captivated by a romantic 
 love or a sublime ideal he accepts 
 his state in the shamefaced and 
 hopeless certainty that his common- 
 sense will one day come to the 
 rescue. He cannot believe that 
 what he takes for beauty will always 
 be so fair, or that what seems good 
 for the moment could be inspiring 
 forever. Satisfaction only makes 
 him restless : he sighs for happiness 
 and, having found it, sighs lest, 
 after all, it should only be a shadow 
 cast by his own desires. Wiche 
 therefore suffered his disappoint- 
 ment with smiling patience and with 
 something even of relief ; once he 
 had doubted that all was vanity, 
 had suspected that life yet held
 
 134 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 much that was precious and desir- 
 able, that love was an immortal 
 fact, and endured. He felt now that 
 he need struggle no longer against 
 despair, and, abandoning himself to 
 the intense pleasures of profound 
 melancholy, became agreeably tired 
 of existence. To his unspeakable 
 resentment, however, one shining 
 thought pierced the blackness of his 
 thoughts. Teresa still remained. 
 But she had never been his ideal. 
 Teresa was Teresa a vivid, distinct 
 personality, a being whom no 
 amount of romantic disguise could 
 make seem other than she was, and 
 who was incomparable, not because 
 of her singular merits, but because 
 no one else had the same faults.
 
 VIII. 
 
 IR VENTRY COXE had been 
 educated in the belief that 
 his cousin Teresa loved him 
 madly. When he married 
 Lady Susan Hoppe-Gardner, a 
 chorus went up from all the mem- 
 bers of his family. "What on 
 earth will poor Teresa do ? " She 
 was present at the wedding, never- 
 theless, and seemed in the best 
 possible spirits : the relations looked 
 wise and murmured that it . was 
 impossible for the unhappy girl 
 to deceive them. Ventry was 
 particularly kind to her ; he clasp- 
 ed her hand warmly when he 
 started on his honeymoon and 
 
 135
 
 136 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 thanked her again and again with 
 tears in his eyes for her magnificent 
 gift in the shape of a diamond neck- 
 lace for his bride : every one said it 
 was too touching for words, several 
 ladies declared that Teresa grew as 
 white as a sheet and would have 
 swooned if Lord Twacorbie, with 
 his ready tact, had not led her to the 
 air. 
 
 A few years passed ; Miss Warcop 
 refused all offers ; Lady Susan died. 
 This, all the relations said, was 
 Fate. Sir Ventry, remembering 
 Teresa's rent-roll, thought so too. 
 He decided to make her his wife 
 when a decent period of mourning 
 had elapsed ; there was no hurry, 
 she was there, ready, waiting, and 
 willing, when he wanted her. 
 
 The day at last dawned when it 
 seemed convenient to address her 
 on the subject : he met her in the 
 hall as she left the drawing-room
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 1 37 
 
 after her scene with Lady Mallinger. 
 She was greatly embarrassed, a fact 
 which he easily attributed to her 
 sudden encounter with himself. 
 Smiling magnanimously, he waited 
 until she had regained her com- 
 posure. 
 
 ' ' Shall we go into the garden ? " 
 he suggested. 
 
 No, she was feeling rather tired ; 
 she had a slight headache ; he would 
 find her a very dull companion. 
 
 "Do come," he said, in his most 
 persuasive manner. 
 
 Teresa, who was always amused 
 at his conceit, and who had a moth- 
 erly, pitying affection for the weak- 
 nesses which did duty for his char- 
 acter, yielded the point and followed 
 him. He began to talk of former 
 days : he reminded her of his five- 
 and-twentieth birthday, when she 
 gave him a hunter and wore a black 
 cloak lined with scarlet.
 
 138 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 ' ' You look awfully well in scar- 
 let," he observed. She blushed : 
 scarlet was Wiche's favorite color. 
 Sir Ventry, however, took the blush 
 to himself. 
 
 "I always admired you, you 
 know," he said; "there is not a 
 woman in the family who has got 
 such a complexion, and your eye- 
 lashes are so long." 
 
 "It is very nice of you to say so," 
 said Teresa : "I, myself, do not 
 think they are bad. Once or twice 
 I have thought I looked quite de- 
 cent ! " 
 
 He glanced at her sideways. Was 
 she really so plain as all the women 
 made out? 
 
 "I am awfully fond of you," he 
 said suddenly. 
 
 Teresa was by no means dense. 
 "My dear Ventry," she said, with 
 rather a nipping air, '' let us talk 
 like reasonable beings."
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 139 
 
 "I am quite serious," he replied. 
 ' ' Will you marry me, Teresa ? " 
 
 "Certainly not. You must be 
 mad." 
 
 "What!" 
 
 "You must be mad. And think 
 yourself very lucky that I forgive 
 you for making such an insulting 
 suggestion. " Trembling with anger 
 she left him. He looked up to see 
 whether the Heavens were falling.
 
 IX 
 
 JERESA sat alone in the draw- 
 ing-room before dinner that 
 evening. The lamps were 
 lit and their hazy light fell 
 on the orange velvet draperies, the 
 vases of blue Sevres, the Chinese em- 
 broideries on scarlet satin, the cop- 
 per bowls, the tiger skins and the 
 Indian shawls. Teresa loved colour, 
 gorgeous sunsets, the blare of trum- 
 pets, loud music all that could 
 send some note of the tremendous 
 into the undramatic tragedy of her 
 existence. To-night she wore a 
 gown of silver brocade : lace con- 
 cealed her neck, and long sleeves 
 140
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 14! 
 
 her arms, but neither brocade nor 
 lace could hide the slight, almost 
 angular figure of their wearer. She 
 held a book of devotions in her lap, 
 the leaves of which she turned at 
 random, but her glance fell now on 
 the clock, and now on the mirror 
 rarely on the volume and its gro- 
 tesque old woodcuts of saints and 
 ecstatic virgins. At last the sound 
 of footsteps in the corridor without, 
 and the opening of a door, marred 
 the disquieting repose of her vigil. 
 She let fall the book of prayers : 
 the little crash it made on striking 
 the floor and the rustle of her silk 
 petticoat drowned the words of 
 greeting which she addressed to 
 Wiche, who now entered. 
 
 He chose a chair near hers, but 
 she, half-un consciously, shrank back. 
 He was too engrossed in his own 
 thoughts, however, to notice the 
 movement.
 
 142 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 "I fear I seemed most ungrate- 
 ful this afternoon," he said, ''but I 
 felt quite sure that you would one 
 day understand Lady Mai linger, 
 and know, as I do, the real woman. 
 Perhaps I should say the real child. " 
 
 "When I spoke," said Teresa, in 
 a low voice, " I did not know that 
 you loved her. And she has 
 charmed away my prejudice since 
 then. I will frankly admit that I 
 did not wish to discover anything 
 bewitching either in her face or in 
 her manner. I only wanted to 
 have the right to detest her with a 
 clear conscience ! " 
 
 ' ' Yet, in spite of all this, she con- 
 quered you ? " 
 
 "She conquered me," repeated 
 Teresa, "but let me say one thing 
 she is too romantic : she lives by 
 moonlight." 
 
 Wiche laughed. ' ' She has seen 
 a great deal of the world, " he said,
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 143 
 
 " and I have often been struck by 
 her extraordinary, almost terrible 
 common-sense. She may have a 
 certain amount of sentimentalism in 
 her brain, but at heart she is cold 
 and critical. This ache to be 
 amused, this longing to hear music 
 in the air, to see beauty on all sides, 
 to find life one ever-new, yet ever- 
 abiding pleasure, these are the fierce, 
 never-gratified desires of those who 
 love only themselves. But to him 
 who loves others even one other " 
 he found himself looking into 
 Teresa's eyes "even one other 
 the commonest things seem rare, 
 the blackest shadows have a radi- 
 ance indescribable, and the harshest 
 notes are heavenly melodies : dis- 
 appointment, bitterness, and deso- 
 lation have no part in his exist- 
 ence !" 
 
 "These exalted moods are brief 
 terribly brief," said Teresa, "and
 
 144 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 they show us just enough of our 
 lost divinity to make us ever more 
 wretched as mere mortals and chil- 
 dren of Adam. It is the day after, 
 the days after, the weeks, months, 
 years after, when we can only re- 
 member that once we were happy for 
 half-an-hour ! " She seemed to have 
 forgotten Wiche's presence, and he 
 felt that she was thinking of some- 
 thing in her own experience in which 
 he bore no part. It was certain that 
 she could have no knowledge of his 
 love-adventure with Lady Mallinger, 
 and he could not make up his mind 
 to tell her the news just then. 
 
 "I wonder," he said, abruptly, 
 " I have often wondered why you 
 are the only one in the world I can 
 talk to without the dread of saying 
 either more or less than I mean." 
 
 ' ' I will tell you why, " she an- 
 swered : "I could never misunder- 
 stand you, Sidney, because I love
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 145 
 
 you." Although she was a woman 
 in whom the coquette was, at all 
 events, slumbering, her primmest, 
 least emotional manner had the 
 mysterious charm of those things 
 which we note unmoved and re- 
 member with passionate interest. 
 She made her declaration of love so 
 quietly that Wiche saw neither its 
 oddness, nor, indeed, its full mean- 
 ing : he colored a little, however, 
 at the sense her words might have 
 conveyed. 
 
 "Do not think I am choosing 
 phrases at random," she went on, 
 ' ' I meant what I said. There is only 
 one thing in my life which I can be 
 grateful for that is my love for 
 yourself. Many people would think 
 it very unwomanly on my part to 
 tell you this ; I am only proud to 
 know that I am capable of loving 
 any one. All affection seems to 
 have been laughed out of the
 
 1 46 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 world : when it is not ridiculous, it 
 is thought hysterical. To me it re- 
 mains and always must remain, the 
 greatest the only perfect gift that 
 God has given us. So I have told 
 you." Her lips trembled a little as 
 she added, ' ' I suppose, too, you 
 have heard it already from Lady 
 Mallinger ? " 
 
 ' ' What could I hear from Lady 
 Mallinger," he asked, growing more 
 and more bewildered. Teresa's ex- 
 pression was so frigid though her 
 words were so kind. "I am sure 
 we are talking at cross-purposes." 
 
 "Do you mean to say," she 
 stammered, "that she never told 
 you all all I said to her this after- 
 noon ? " 
 
 "She has never uttered your 
 name." 
 
 Teresa hid her face in her hands 
 and forced back her tears. She had 
 needlessly betrayed her secret.
 
 A BUNDLE OK LIFE. 147 
 
 " I will explain," she said, at 
 last. " Lady Mallinger told me this 
 afternoon that she was going to 
 marry you : we had some words and 
 I I confessed quite plainly what 
 I I said just now. And I thought 
 she would surely repeat it so in 
 order to avoid any misapprehension 
 I decided to let you hear it from 
 me also. It needed courage, but 
 now all my courage has gone I 
 had only enough for that. It 
 wanted so much. Do not say a 
 word ; please go. " 
 
 " Lady Mallinger is not going to 
 marry me," he said, quietly. 
 
 He touched Teresa's hand, and 
 conquered his impulse to kiss it : 
 that was not the moment, nor in- 
 deed could he imagine a time when 
 it might be the moment. She 
 seemed to stand in an enchanted 
 circle. Suddenly, he saw that she 
 was crying. This touch of weak-
 
 148 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 ness seemed to supply the one 
 thing he had always missed in her 
 character. Teresa had, as a rule, a 
 self-command which was almost 
 forbidding even her occasional 
 indiscretions had something well- 
 considered and reasonable. She 
 lacked that inconsequence, that 
 capriciousness, that delicious non- 
 sense which most men and all 
 strong natures find so alluring and 
 adorable. To see her weeping, 
 therefore, was to behold a new 
 creature. Wiche was uncertain how 
 to reply, when she herself, brushing 
 the tears from her cheeks, asked 
 him a question. 
 
 " Why ? '" she said, " why are you 
 not going to marry Lady Mallinger ?" 
 
 "I want to tell you about that," 
 he said. "I am afraid that there is 
 not. time to tell the whole story 
 now. But Lady Mallinger dis- 
 covered that she had made a mis-
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 149 
 
 take, she loved some one else, and 
 I I have been such a fool, Teresa, 
 such a fool ! I do not know whether 
 I love you or not. I only know 
 that I hate my life when you are 
 not near me ! " This truth, which 
 had been sleeping so long, woke at 
 the first whisper of its name : he 
 realized how pitiably little would 
 remain to him if Teresa were taken 
 from his memory : it was her very 
 oneness with his own mind which 
 had made him overlook her : when 
 he imagined he was thinking of him- 
 self he was thinking of Teresa also. 
 
 "I only know,'' he said once 
 more, "that I hate my life when 
 you are not near me ! " 
 
 She could have wished that he 
 had expressed himself with less ego- 
 ism ; if he cared for her at all it was 
 because she was necessary to his 
 peace of soul : at least, so it 
 sounded. But she was a woman
 
 I5O A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 who found her happiness in giving 
 and loving : she made no demands ; 
 she looked neither for gratitude, nor 
 homage, nor appreciation ; she only 
 asked the right to give and to love. 
 So she gave Wiche her hand ; her 
 heart had been his from the begin- 
 ning. 
 
 "Without you," she said, " I have 
 no life to hate ! " 
 
 This may have been weak, but 
 Teresa was not strong-minded. 
 And perhaps it is as well for those 
 of us who are proud and self-reliant 
 that just such simple, undignified, 
 and affectionate creatures are to be 
 found here and there. They may 
 speak for us on Judgment Day, 
 which will be the longest, darkest, 
 and coldest, this world has seen.
 
 WHICH CONTAINS A LETTER WRITTEN 
 THE SAME EVENING BY LADY TWA- 
 CORBIE TO HER HUSBAND. 
 
 ' ' ARDEN LODGE, 
 
 "NEAR WENSLEY, 
 
 ' ' HERTFORD. 
 
 "Mv DEAR HAROLD, I am so 
 annoyed and disgusted that I can 
 scarcely hold my pen. Wiche has 
 proposed to Teresa, and has been 
 accepted. What could be more 
 outrageous than such conduct ? As 
 for Teresa, you know I always 
 thought her dreadfully sly. How 
 any woman could prefer Wiche to 
 Ventry ! But there, what on earth
 
 152 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 does Wiche see in Teresa? Van 
 Huyster told me in the course of 
 conversation at dinner that he is 
 engaged to some American person 
 in Paris, and that he hopes to per- 
 suade her to marry him on the 
 Fourth of July, We must really be 
 more careful in future about whom 
 we invite to the house. Lilian and 
 Rookes are flirting in the most un- 
 expected manner. I thought they 
 could not bear each other. Nothing 
 however, would astonish me in that 
 direction after the surprises of this 
 day. I believe that I am the only 
 sane person in the house. Thank 
 goodness, they all go to-morrow. 
 I long for rest. Felicia seems hys- 
 terical ; I never knew a girl of 
 seventeen with so many nerves. 
 She must go on with that steel tonic 
 and take fencing lessons. 
 " Your affectionate wife. 
 
 "CHARLOTTE TWACORBIE.
 
 A BUNDLE OF LIFE. 
 
 " P. S. Spalding has just been in 
 to say that he and Danby wish to 
 get married this day month ! What 
 could be more tiresome ? I begged 
 him to reconsider it, but he said it 
 was too late. He had made up his 
 mind. 
 
 "P.S. No. 2. Ventry has given 
 me to understand that he proposed 
 to Teresa this afternoon, and that 
 she seemed quite annoyed. He is 
 furious, and blames ME. I dare 
 not tell him about Wiche."
 
 TO 
 
 WALTER SPINDLER. 
 
 AH, not for me to learn the truth by 
 
 dreaming, 
 
 To hear the cries of earth in melody, 
 To know 'tis night but when the stars are 
 
 gleaming, 
 
 Ah, not for me. 
 
 Music of form and colour's mystery, 
 The joy of fashioning in fairest seeming 
 Life's dullest clay and Winter's barest tree ; 
 
 To count the years as moments only 
 deeming 
 
 That truly Time which makes thy Art to 
 thee 
 
 The one thing needful and the all-redeem- 
 ing, 
 
 Ah, not for me ! 
 
 September 23, 1893.
 
 EPILOGUE 
 
 Spoken by a Daughter of Eve, who is -weeping, 
 and an Angel, -who looks mit of fashion. 
 
 THE ANGEL. 
 This is only Sorrow 
 For To-Day. 
 Life begins To-Morrow ! 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE. 
 So they say. 
 
 THE ANGEL. 
 
 Life with love and laughter 
 Gay and free 
 Yet no heartache after. 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE. 
 Can it be ? 
 
 THE ANGEL. 
 
 Life with work that reaches 
 To the sky ; 
 
 157
 
 158 EPILOGUE. 
 
 Life that never teaches 
 
 How to die. 
 
 Life that is eternal, 
 
 Ever young, 
 
 Ever bright and vernal 
 
 Just begun ! 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE. 
 Will To-Morrow ever dawn ? 
 Shall we wake that golden morn 
 But to see 
 
 All the treasures gained by tears, 
 All the faith that's won by fears- 
 Vanity ? 
 
 THE ANGEL. 
 
 Doubter, look behind thee 
 In the past, 
 
 All the dreams that pleased thee 
 Did one last ? 
 Is a wish remaining 
 From thy youth ? 
 This thou art retaining 
 If 'twas truth. 
 Mortal passions sicken, 
 Fade away 
 Love alone can quicken 
 Earthly clay. 
 Faith, and all endeavour 
 That is pure, 
 Hope, and Love, for ever 
 These endure.
 
 EPILOGUE. 
 
 '59 
 
 All things else are folly 
 To the wise, 
 Quit thy melancholy 
 And thy sighs 1
 
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