I get absorbed in my poetry。 Well； Katharine hasn’t got
that。 She admires my poetry； you know； but that wouldn’t
be enough for her？”
“No；” said Henry。 He paused。 “I think you’re right；” he
added； as if he were summing up his thoughts。 “Katharine
hasn’t found herself yet。 Life isn’t altogether real to her
yet—I sometimes think—”
“Yes？” Rodney inquired； as if he were eager for Henry
to continue。 “That is what I—” he was going on； as Henry
remained silent； but the sentence was not finished； for
the door opened； and they were interrupted by Henry’s
younger brother Gilbert； much to Henry’s relief； for he
had already said more than he liked。
CHAPTER XVII
When the sun shone； as it did with unusual brightness
that Christmas week； it revealed much that was faded
and not altogether wellkeptup in Stogdon House and
its grounds。 In truth； Sir Francis had retired from service
under the Government of India with a pension that was
not adequate； in his opinion； to his services； as it certainly
was not adequate to his ambitions。 His career had
not e up to his expectations； and although he was a
very fine； whitewhiskered； mahoganycolored old man
to look at； and had laid down a very choice cellar of good
reading and good stories； you could not long remain ignorant
of the fact that some thunderstorm had soured
them； he had a grievance。 This grievance dated back to
the middle years of the last century； when； owing to some
official intrigue； his merits had been passed over in a
disgraceful manner in favor of another； his junior。
The rights and wrongs of the story； presuming that they
had some existence in fact； were no longer clearly known
to his wife and children； but this disappointment had
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played a very large part in their lives； and had poisoned
the life of Sir Francis much as a disappointment in love is
said to poison the whole life of a woman。 Long brooding
on his failure； continual arrangement and rearrangement
of his deserts and rebuffs； had made Sir Francis much of
an egoist； and in his retirement his temper became increasingly
difficult and exacting。
His wife now offered so little resistance to his moods
that she was practically useless to him。 He made his
daughter Eleanor into his chief confidante； and the prime
of her life was being rapidly consumed by her father。 To
her he dictated the memoirs which were to avenge his
memory； and she had to assure him constantly that his
treatment had been a disgrace。 Already； at the age of
thirtyfive； her cheeks were whitening as her mother’s
had whitened； but for her there would be no memories of
Indian suns and Indian rivers； and clamor of children in a
nursery； she would have very little of substance to think
about when she sat； as Lady Otway now sat； knitting
white wool； with her eyes fixed almost perpetually upon
the same embroidered bird upon the same firescreen。
But then Lady Otway was one of the people for whom the
great makebelieve game of English social life has been
invented； she spent most of her time in pretending to
herself and her neighbors that she was a dignified； important；
muchoccupied person； of considerable social
standing and sufficient wealth。 In view of the actual state
of things this game needed a great deal of skill； and；
perhaps； at the age she had reached—she was over sixty—
she played far more to deceive herself than to deceive
any one else。 Moreover； the armor was wearing thin； she
forgot to keep up appearances more and more。
The worn patches in the carpets； and the pallor of the
drawingroom； where no chair or cover had been renewed
for some years； were due not only to the miserable pension；
but to the wear and tear of twelve children； eight of
whom were sons。 As often happens in these large families；
a distinct dividingline could be traced； about halfway
in the succession； where the money for educational
purposes had run short； and the six younger children had
grown up far more economically than the elder。 If the
boys were clever； they won scholarships； and went to
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school； if they were not clever； they took what the family
connection had to offer them。 The girls accepted situations
occasionally； but there were always one or two at
home； nursing sick animals； tending silkworms； or playing
the flute in their bedrooms。 The distinction between
the elder children and the younger corresponded almost
to the distinction between a higher class and a lower
one； for with only a haphazard education and insufficient
allowances； the younger children had picked up acplishments；
friends； and points of view which were not to
be found within the walls of a public school or of a Government
office。 Between the two divisions there was considerable
hostility； the elder trying to patronize the
younger； the younger refusing to respect the elder； but
one feeling united them and instantly closed any risk of
a breach—their mon belief in the superiority of their
own family to all others。 Henry was the eldest of the
younger group； and their leader； he bought strange books
and joined odd societies； he went without a tie for a
whole year； and had six shirts made of black flannel。 He
had long refused to take a seat either in a shipping office
or in a teamerchant’s warehouse； and persisted； in spite
of the disapproval of uncles and aunts； in practicing both
violin and piano； with the result that he could not perform
professionally upon either。 Indeed； for thirtytwo
years of life he had nothing more substantial to show
than a manuscript book containing the score of half an
opera。 In this protest of his； Katharine had always given
him her support； and as she was generally held to be an
extremely sensible person； who dressed too well to be
eccentric； he had found her support of some use。 Indeed；
when she came down at Christmas she usually spent a
great part of her time in private conferences with Henry
and with Cassandra； the youngest girl； to whom the silkworms
belonged。 With the younger section she had a great
reputation for mon sense； and for something that
they despised but inwardly respected and called knowledge
of the world—that is to say； of the way in which
respectable elderly people； going to their clubs and dining
out with ministers； think and behave。 She had more
than once played the part of ambassador between Lady
Otway and her children。 That poor lady； for instance； con
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sulted her for advice when； one day； she opened
Cassandra’s bedroom door on a mission of discovery； and
found the ceiling hung with mulberryleaves； the windows
blocked with cages； and the tables stacked with
homemade machines for the manufacture of silk dresses。
“I wish you could help her to take an interest in something
that other people are interested in； Katharine；” she
observed； rather plaintively； detailing her grievances。 “It’s
all Henry’s doing； you know； giving up her parties and
taking to these nasty insects。 It doesn’t follow that if a
man can do a thing a woman may too。”
The morning was sufficiently bright to make the chairs
and sofas in Lady Otway’s private sittingroom appear
more than usually shabby； and the gallant gentlemen；
her brothers and cousins； who had defended the Empire
and left their bones on many frontiers； looked at the
world through a film of yellow which the morning light
seemed to have drawn across their photographs。 Lady
Otway sighed； it may be at the faded relics； and turned；
with resignation； to her balls of wool； which； curiously
and characteristically； were not an ivorywhite； but rather
a tarnished yellowwhite。 She had called her niece in for
a little chat。 She had always trusted her； and now more
than ever； since her engagement to Rodney； which seemed
to Lady Otway extremely suitable； and just what one would
wish for one’s own daughter。 Katharine unwittingly increased
her reputation for wisdom by asking to be given
knittingneedles too。
“It’s so very pleasant；” said Lady Otway； “to knit while
one’s talking。 And now； my dear Katharine； tell me about
your plans。”
The emotions of the night before； which she had suppressed
in such a way as to keep her awake till dawn； had
left Katharine a little jaded； and thus more matteroffact
than usual。 She was quite ready to discuss her plans—
houses and rents； servants and economy—without feeling
that they concerned her very much。 As she spoke； knitting
methodically meanwhile； Lady Otway noted； with approval；
the upright； responsible bearing of her niece； to whom the
prospect of marriage had brought some gravity most being
in a bride； and yet； in these days； most rare。 Yes；
Katharine’s engagement had changed her a little。
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“What a perfect daughter； or daughterinlaw！” she
thought to herself； and could not help contrasting her
with Cassandra； surrounded by innumerable silkworms in
her bedroom。
“Yes；” she continued； glancing at Katharine； with