CHAPTER VIII

Our young barbarians have it all their own way with us when they fall

into love-liking; they lead us whither they please, and interest us

in their wishings, their weepings, and that fine performance, their

kissings. But when we see our veterans tottering to their fall, we

scarcely consent to their having a wish; as for a kiss, we halloo at

them if we discover them on a byway to the sacred grove where such

things are supposed to be done by the venerable. And this piece of rank

injustice, not to say impoliteness, is entirely because of an unsound

opinion that Nature is not in it, as though it were our esteem for

Nature which caused us to disrespect them. They, in truth, show her to

us discreet, civilized, in a decent moral aspect: vistas of real life,

views of the mind’s eye, are opened by their touching little emotions;

whereas those bully youngsters who come bellowing at us and catch us by

the senses plainly prove either that we are no better than they, or that

we give our attention to Nature only when she makes us afraid of her.

If we cared for her, we should be up and after her reverentially in her

sedater steps, deeply studying her in her slower paces. She teaches

them nothing when they are whirling. Our closest instructors, the true

philosophers--the story-tellers, in short-will learn in time that Nature

is not of necessity always roaring, and as soon as they do, the world

may be said to be enlightened. Meantime, in the contemplation of a pair

of white whiskers fluttering round a pair of manifestly painted cheeks,

be assured that Nature is in it: not that hectoring wanton--but let the

young have their fun. Let the superior interest of the passions of the

aged be conceded, and not a word shall be said against the young.

If, then, Nature is in it, how has she been made active? The reason

of her launch upon this last adventure is, that she has perceived

the person who can supply the virtue known to her by experience to be

wanting. Thus, in the broader instance, many who have journeyed far down

the road, turn back to the worship of youth, which they have lost. Some

are for the graceful worldliness of wit, of which they have just share

enough to admire it. Some are captivated by hands that can wield the

rod, which in earlier days they escaped to their cost. In the case

of General Ople, it was partly her whippings of him, partly her

penetration; her ability, that sat so finely on a wealthy woman, her

indifference to conventional manners, that so well beseemed a nobly-born

one, and more than all, her correction of his little weaknesses and

incompetencies, in spite of his dislike of it, won him. He began to feel

a sort of nibbling pleasure in her grotesque sketches of his person; a

tendency to recur to the old ones while dreading the arrival of new. You

hear old gentlemen speak fondly of the swish; and they are not attached

to pain, but the instrument revives their feeling of youth; and General

Ople half enjoyed, while shrinking, Lady Camper’s foregone outlines of

him. For in the distance, the whip’s-end may look like a clinging caress

instead of a stinging flick. But this craven melting in his heart was

rebuked by a very worthy pride, that flew for support to the injury she

had done to his devotions, and the offence to the sacred edifice. After

thinking over it, he decided that he must quit his residence; and as

it appeared to him in the light of duty, he, with an unspoken anguish,

commissioned the house-agent of his town to sell his lease or let the

house furnished, without further parley.

From the house-agent’s shop he turned into the chemist’s, for a tonic--a

foolish proceeding, for he had received bracing enough in the blow he

had just dealt himself, but he had been cogitating on tonics recently,

imagining certain valiant effects of them, with visions of a former

careless happiness that they were likely to restore. So he requested to

have the tonic strong, and he took one glass of it over the counter.

Fifteen minutes after the draught, he came in sight of his house, and

beholding it, he could have called it a gentlemanly residence aloud

under Lady Camper’s windows, his insurgency was of such violence. He

talked of it incessantly, but forbore to tell Elizabeth, as she was

looking pale, the reason why its modest merits touched him so. He longed

for the hour of his next dose, and for a caricature to follow, that he

might drink and defy it. A caricature was really due to him, he thought;

otherwise why had he abandoned his bijou dwelling? Lady Camper, however,

sent none. He had to wait a fortnight before one came, and that was

rather a likeness, and a handsome likeness, except as regarded a certain

disorderliness in his dress, which he knew to be very unlike him. Still

it despatched him to the looking-glass, to bring that verifier of

facts in evidence against the sketch. While sitting there he heard the

housemaid’s knock at the door, and the strange intelligence that his

daughter was with Lady Camper, and had left word that she hoped he would

not forget his engagement to go to Mrs. Baerens’ lawn-party.

The General jumped away from the glass, shouting at the absent Elizabeth

in a fit of wrath so foreign to him, that he returned hurriedly to have

another look at himself, and exclaimed at the pitch of his voice, ‘I

say I attribute it to an indigestion of that tonic. Do you hear?’ The

housemaid faintly answered outside the door that she did, alarming him,

for there seemed to be confusion somewhere. His hope was that no one

would mention Lady Camper’s name, for the mere thought of her caused a

rush to his head. ‘I believe I am in for a touch of apoplexy,’ he

said to the rector, who greeted him, in advance of the ladies, on Mr.

Baerens’ lawn. He said it smilingly, but wanting some show of sympathy,

instead of the whisper and meaningless hand at his clerical band, with

which the rector responded, he cried, ‘Apoplexy,’ and his friend seemed

then to understand, and disappeared among the ladies.

Several of them surrounded the General, and one inquired whether the

series was being continued. He drew forth his pocket-book, handed

her the latest, and remarked on the gross injustice of it; for, as he

requested them to take note, her ladyship now sketched him as a person

inattentive to his dress, and he begged them to observe that she had

drawn him with his necktie hanging loose. ‘And that, I say that has

never been known of me since I first entered society.’

The ladies exchanged looks of profound concern; for the fact was, the

General had come without any necktie and any collar, and he appeared to

be unaware of the circumstance. The rector had told them, that in

answer to a hint he had dropped on the subject of neckties, General Ople

expressed a slight apprehension of apoplexy; but his careless or merely

partial observance of the laws of buttonment could have nothing to do

with such fears. They signified rather a disorder of the intelligence.

Elizabeth was condemned for leaving him to go about alone. The situation

was really most painful, for a word to so sensitive a man would drive

him away in shame and for good; and still, to let him parade the ground

in the state, compared with his natural self, of scarecrow, and with

the dreadful habit of talking to himself quite rageing, was a horrible

alternative. Mrs. Baerens at last directed her husband upon the General,

trembling as though she watched for the operations of a fish torpedo;

and other ladies shared her excessive anxiousness, for Mr. Baerens had

the manner and the look of artillery, and on this occasion carried a

surcharge of powder.

The General bent his ear to Mr. Baerens, whose German-English and

repeated remark, ‘I am to do it wid delicassy,’ did not assist his

comprehension; and when he might have been enlightened, he was petrified

by seeing Lady Camper walk on the lawn with Elizabeth. The great lady

stood a moment beside Mrs. Baerens; she came straight over to him,

contemplating him in silence.

Then she said, ‘Your arm, General Ople,’ and she made one circuit of the

lawn with him, barely speaking.

At her request, he conducted her to her carriage. He took a seat beside

her, obediently. He felt that he was being sketched, and comported

himself like a child’s flat man, that jumps at the pulling of a string.

‘Where have you left your girl, General?’

Before he could rally his wits to answer the question, he was asked:

‘And what have you done with your necktie and collar?’

He touched his throat.

‘I am rather nervous to-day, I forgot Elizabeth,’ he said, sending his

fingers in a dotting run of wonderment round his neck.

Lady Camper smiled with a triumphing humour on her close-drawn lips.

The verified absence of necktie and collar seemed to be choking him.

‘Never mind, you have been abroad without them,’ said Lady Camper, ‘and

that is a victory for me. And you thought of Elizabeth first when I drew

your attention to it, and that is a victory for you. It is a very

great victory. Pray, do not be dismayed, General. You have a handsome

campaigning air. And no apologies, if you please; I like you well enough

as you are. There is my hand.’

General Ople understood her last remark. He pressed the lady’s hand in

silence, very nervously.

‘But do not shrug your head into your shoulders as if there were any

possibility of concealing the thunderingly evident,’ said Lady Camper,

electrifying him, what with her cordial squeeze, her kind eyes, and her

singular language. ‘You have omitted the collar. Well? The collar is

the fatal finishing touch in men’s dress; it would make Apollo look

bourgeois.’

Her hand was in his: and watching the play of her features, a spark

entered General Ople’s brain, causing him, in forgetfulness of collar

and caricatures, to ejaculate, ‘Seventy? Did your ladyship say seventy?

Utterly impossible! You trifle with me.’

‘We will talk when we are free of this accompaniment of carriage-wheels,

General,’ said Lady Camper.

‘I will beg permission to go and fetch Elizabeth, madam.’

‘Rightly thought of. Fetch her in my carriage. And, by the way, Mrs.

Baerens was my old music-mistress, and is, I think, one year older than

I. She can tell you on which side of seventy I am.’

‘I shall not require to ask, my lady,’ he said, sighing.

‘Then we will send the carriage for Elizabeth, and have it out

together at once. I am impatient; yes, General, impatient: for

what?--forgiveness.’

‘Of me, my lady?’ The General breathed profoundly.

‘Of whom else? Do you know what it is?-I don’t think you do. You English

have the smallest experience of humanity. I mean this: to strike so hard

that, in the end, you soften your heart to the victim. Well, that is my

weakness. And we of our blood put no restraint on the blows we strike

when we think them wanted, so we are always overdoing it.’

General Ople assisted Lady Camper to alight from the carriage, which was

forthwith despatched for Elizabeth.

He prepared to listen to her with a disconnected smile of acute

attentiveness.

She had changed. She spoke of money. Ten thousand pounds must be settled

on his daughter. ‘And now,’ said she, ‘you will remember that you are

wanting a collar.’

He acquiesced. He craved permission to retire for ten minutes.

‘Simplest of men! what will cover you?’ she exclaimed, and peremptorily

bidding him sit down in the drawing-room, she took one of the famous

pair of pistols in her hand, and said, ‘If I put myself in a similar

position, and make myself decodletee too, will that satisfy you? You see

these murderous weapons. Well, I am a coward. I dread fire-arms. They

are laid there to impose on the world, and I believe they do. They have

imposed on you. Now, you would never think of pretending to a moral

quality you do not possess. But, silly, simple man that you are! You can

give yourself the airs of wealth, buy horses to conceal your nakedness,

and when you are taken upon the standard of your apparent income, you

would rather seem to be beating a miserly retreat than behave frankly

and honestly. I have a little overstated it, but I am near the mark.’

‘Your ladyship wanting courage!’ cried the General.

‘Refresh yourself by meditating on it,’ said she. ‘And to prove it to

you, I was glad to take this house when I knew I was to have a gallant

gentleman for a neighbour. No visitors will be admitted, General Ople,

so you are bare-throated only to me: sit quietly. One day you speculated

on the paint in my cheeks for the space of a minute and a half:--I had

said that I freckled easily. Your look signified that you really could

not detect a single freckle for the paint. I forgave you, or I did not.

But when I found you, on closer acquaintance, as indifferent to your

daughter’s happiness as you had been to her reputation...’

‘My daughter! her reputation! her happiness!’

General Ople raised his eyes under a wave, half uttering the outcries.

‘So indifferent to her reputation, that you allowed a young man to talk

with her over the wall, and meet her by appointment: so reckless of the

girl’s happiness, that when I tried to bring you to a treaty, on her

behalf, you could not be dragged from thinking of yourself and your own

affair. When I found that, perhaps I was predisposed to give you some of

what my sisters used to call my spice. You would not honestly state the

proportions of your income, and you affected to be faithful to the woman

of seventy. Most preposterous! Could any caricature of mine exceed in

grotesqueness your sketch of yourself? You are a brave and a generous

man all the same: and I suspect it is more hoodwinking than egotism--or

extreme egotism--that blinds you. A certain amount you must have to be

a man. You did not like my paint, still less did you like my sincerity;

you were annoyed by my corrections of your habits of speech; you were

horrified by the age of seventy, and you were credulous--General

Ople, listen to me, and remember that you have no collar on--you were

credulous of my statement of my great age, or you chose to be so, or

chose to seem so, because I had brushed your cat’s coat against the fur.

And then, full of yourself, not thinking of Elizabeth, but to withdraw

in the chivalrous attitude of the man true to his word to the old woman,

only stickling to bring a certain independence to the common stock,

because--I quote you! and you have no collar on, mind--“you could not

be at your wife’s mercy,” you broke from your proposal on the money

question. Where was your consideration for Elizabeth then?

‘Well, General, you were fond of thinking of yourself, and I thought I

would assist you. I gave you plenty of subject matter. I will not say

I meant to work a homoeopathic cure. But if I drive you to forget your

collar, is it or is it not a triumph?

‘No,’ added Lady Camper, ‘it is no triumph for me, but it is one for

you, if you like to make the most of it. Your fault has been to quit

active service, General, and love your ease too well. It is the fault

of your countrymen. You must get a militia regiment, or inspectorship of

militia. You are ten times the man in exercise. Why, do you mean to tell

me that you would have cared for those drawings of mine when marching?’

‘I think so, I say I think so,’ remarked the General seriously.

‘I doubt it,’ said she. ‘But to the point; here comes Elizabeth. If

you have not much money to spare for her, according to your prudent

calculation, reflect how this money has enfeebled you and reduced you to

the level of the people round about us here--who are, what? Inhabitants

of gentlemanly residences, yes! But what kind of creature? They have

no mental standard, no moral aim, no native chivalry. You were rapidly

becoming one of them, only, fortunately for you, you were sensitive to

ridicule.’

‘Elizabeth shall have half my money settled on her,’ said the General;

‘though I fear it is not much. And if I can find occupation, my lady...’

‘Something worthier than that,’ said Lady Camper, pencilling outlines

rapidly on the margin of a book, and he saw himself lashing a pony; ‘or

that,’ and he was plucking at a cabbage; ‘or that,’ and he was bowing to

three petticoated posts.

‘The likeness is exact,’ General Ople groaned.

‘So you may suppose I have studied you,’ said she. ‘But there is no

real likeness. Slight exaggerations do more harm to truth than reckless

violations of it.

You would not have cared one bit for a caricature, if you had not nursed

the absurd idea of being one of our conquerors. It is the very tragedy

of modesty for a man like you to have such notions, my poor dear good

friend. The modest are the most easily intoxicated when they sip at

vanity. And reflect whether you have not been intoxicated, for these

young people have been wretched, and you have not observed it, though

one of them was living with you, and is the child you love. There, I

have done. Pray show a good face to Elizabeth.’

The General obeyed as well as he could. He felt very like a sheep that

has come from a shearing, and when released he wished to run away. But

hardly had he escaped before he had a desire for the renewal of the

operation. ‘She sees me through, she sees me through,’ he was heard

saying to himself, and in the end he taught himself, to say it with a

secret exultation, for as it was on her part an extraordinary piece

of insight to see him through, it struck him that in acknowledging the

truth of it, he made a discovery of new powers in human nature.

General Ople studied Lady Camper diligently for fresh proofs of her

penetration of the mysteries in his bosom; by which means, as it

happened that she was diligently observing the two betrothed young ones,

he began to watch them likewise, and took a pleasure in the sight. Their

meetings, their partings, their rides out and home furnished him themes

of converse. He soon had enough to talk of, and previously, as he

remembered, he had never sustained a conversation of any length with

composure and the beneficent sense of fulness. Five thousand pounds, to

which sum Lady Camper reduced her stipulation for Elizabeth’s dowry, he

signed over to his dear girl gladly, and came out with the confession to

her ladyship that a well-invested twelve thousand comprised his fortune.

She shrugged she had left off pulling him this way and that, so his

chains were enjoyable, and he said to himself: ‘If ever she should

in the dead of night want a man to defend her!’ He mentioned it to

Reginald, who had been the repository of Elizabeth’s lamentations about

her father being left alone, forsaken, and the young man conceived a

scheme for causing his aunt’s great bell to be rung at midnight,

which would certainly have led to a dramatic issue and the happy

re-establishment of our masculine ascendancy at the close of this

history. But he forgot it in his bridegroom’s delight, until he was

making his miserable official speech at the wedding-breakfast, and set

Elizabeth winking over a tear. As she stood in the hall ready to depart,

a great van was observed in the road at the gates of Douro Lodge; and

this, the men in custody declared to contain the goods and knick-knacks

of the people who had taken the house furnished for a year, and were

coming in that very afternoon.

‘I remember, I say now I remember, I had a notice,’ the General said

cheerily to his troubled daughter.

‘But where are you to go, papa?’ the poor girl cried, close on sobbing.

‘I shall get employment of some sort,’ said he. ‘I was saying I want it,

I need it, I require it.’

‘You are saying three times what once would have sufficed for,’ said

Lady Camper, and she asked him a few questions, frowned with a smile,

and offered him a lodgement in his neighbour’s house.

‘Really, dearest Aunt Angela?’ said Elizabeth.

‘What else can I do, child? I have, it seems, driven him out of a

gentlemanly residence, and I must give him a ladylike one. True, I would

rather have had him at call, but as I have always wished for a policeman

in the house, I may as well be satisfied with a soldier.’

‘But if you lose your character, my lady?’ said Reginald.

‘Then I must look to the General to restore it.’

General Ople immediately bowed his head over Lady Camper’s fingers.

‘An odd thing to happen to a woman of forty-one!’ she said to her great

people, and they submitted with the best grace in the world, while the

General’s ears tingled till he felt younger than Reginald. This, his

reflections ran, or it would be more correct to say waltzed, this is the

result of painting!--that you can believe a woman to be any age when her

cheeks are tinted!

As for Lady Camper, she had been floated accidentally over the ridicule

of the bruit of a marriage at a time of life as terrible to her as her

fiction of seventy had been to General Ople; she resigned herself to

let things go with the tide. She had not been blissful in her first

marriage, she had abandoned the chase of an ideal man, and she had found

one who was tunable so as not to offend her ears, likely ever to be a

fund of amusement for her humour, good, impressible, and above all, very

picturesque. There is the secret of her, and of how it came to pass

that a simple man and a complex woman fell to union after the strangest

division.

ETEXT EDITOR’S BOOKMARKS:

Can believe a woman to be any age when her cheeks are tinted

Modest are the most easily intoxicated when they sip at vanity

Nature is not of necessity always roaring

Only to be described in the tongue of auctioneers

Respected the vegetable yet more than he esteemed the flower

She seems honest, and that is the most we can hope of girls

Spare me that word “female” as long as you live

The mildness of assured dictatorship

When we see our veterans tottering to their fall

THE TALE OF CHLOE AN EPISODE IN THE HISTORY OF BEAU BEAMISH

By George Meredith

‘Fair Chloe, we toasted of old,

As the Queen of our festival meeting;

Now Chloe is lifeless and cold;

You must go to the grave for her greeting.

Her beauty and talents were framed

To enkindle the proudest to win her;

Then let not the mem’ry be blamed

Of the purest that e’er was a sinner!’

Captain Chanter’s Collection.