Ilookintothejumbledstoresofthemiddledistanceofmemory，andBeckenhamseemstomeaquitetransitoryphase。Butreallytheywerethereseveralyears；throughnearlyallmymarriedlife，infact，andfarlongerthantheyearandoddmonthswelivedtogetheratWimblehurst。ButtheWimblehursttimewiththemisfullerinmymemorybyfarthentheBeckenhamperiod。
Therecomesbacktomewithaquiteconsiderableamountofdetailtheeffectofthatgardenpartyofmyaunt’sandofalittlesocialmisbehaviourofwhichIwasguiltyonthatoccasion。It’slikeascrapfromanotherlife。It’sallsetinwhatisformeakindofcutaneousfeeling，thefeelingofratherill-cutcityclothes，frockcoatandgreytrousers，andofahighcollarandtieworninsunshineamongflowers。Ihavestillaquitevividmemoryofthelittletrapezoidallawn，ofthegathering，andparticularlyofthehatsandfeathersofthegathering，oftheparlour-maidandthebluetea-cups，andofthemagnificentpresenceofMrs。Hogberryandofherclear，resonantvoice。Itwasavoicethatwouldhavegonewithagardenpartyonalargerscale；itwentintoadjacentpremises；
itincludedthegardenerwhowasfarupthevegetablepatchandtechnicallyoutofplay。Theonlyothermenweremyaunt’sdoctor，twooftheclergy，amiablecontrastedmen，andMrs。
Hogberry’simperfectlygrown-upson，ayouthjustburstingintocollar。Therestwerewomen，exceptforayounggirlorsoinastateofspeechlessgoodbehaviour。Marionalsowasthere。
MarionandIhadarrivedalittleestranged，andIrememberherasasilentpresence，ashadowacrossallthatsunlitemptinessofintercourse。Wehadembitteredeachotherwithoneofthosemiserablelittledisputesthatseemedsounavoidablebetweenus。
Shehad，withthehelpofSmithie，dressedratherelaboratelyfortheoccasion，andwhenshesawmepreparedtoaccompanyherin，I
thinkitwasagreysuit，sheprotestedthatsilkhatandfrockcoatwereimperative。Iwasrecalcitrant，shequotedanillustratedpapershowingagardenpartywiththeKingpresent，andfinallyIcapitulated——butaftermyevilhabit，resentfully。Eh，dear！thoseoldquarrels，howpitifultheywere，howtrivial！Andhowsorrowfultheyaretorecall！I
thinktheygrowmoresorrowfulasIgrowolder，andallthesmallpassionatereasonsforourmutualangerfadeandfadeoutofmemory。
TheimpressionthatBeckenhamcompanyhasleftonmymindisoneofamodestunreality；theywereallmaintainingafrontofunspecifiedsocialpretension，andevadingthedisplayoftheeconomicfactsofthecase。Mostofthehusbandswere“inbusiness“offstage，itwouldhavebeenoutrageoustoaskwhatthebusinesswas——andthewivesweregivingtheirenergiestoproduce，withtheassistanceofnovelsandtheillustratedmagazines，amoralisedversionoftheafternoonlifeofthearistocraticclass。Theyhadn’ttheintellectualormoralenterpriseoftheupper-classwoman，theyhadnopoliticalinterests，theyhadnoviewsaboutanything，andconsequentlytheywere，Iremember，extremelydifficulttotalkto。Theyallsataboutinthesummer-houseandingarden-chairs，andwereveryhattyandruffleyandsunshady。Threeladiesandthecurateplayedcroquetwithageneralimmensegravity，brokenbyoccasionalloudcriesoffeigneddistressfromthecurate。“Oh！
Whackingmeaboutagain！Augh！”
ThedominantsocialfactthatafternoonwasMrs。Hogberry；shetookupacertainpositioncommandingthecroquetandwenton，asmyauntsaidtomeinanincidentalaside，“likeanoldRoundabout。”ShetalkedofthewayinwhichBeckenhamsocietywasgettingmixed，andturnedontoatouchinglettershehadrecentlyreceivedfromherformernurseatLittleGossdean。
FollowedaloudaccountofLittleGossdeanandhowmuchsheandhereightsistershadbeenlookeduptothere。“MypoormotherwasquitealittleQueenthere，“shesaid。“AndsuchNICE
Commonpeople！Peoplesaythecountrylabourersaregettingdisrespectfulnowadays。Itisn’tso——notifthey’reproperlytreated。HereofcourseinBeckenhamit’sdifferent。Iwon’tcallthepeoplewegethereaPoor——they’recertainlynotaproperPoor。They’reMasses。IalwaystellMr。Bugshootthey’reMasses，andoughttobetreatedassuch。”。
DimmemoriesofMrs。MackridgefloatedthroughmymindasI
listenedtoher。
Iwaswhirledonthisroundaboutforabit，andthenhadthefortunetofalloffintoatete-a-tetewithaladywhommyauntintroducedasMrs。Mumble——butthensheintroducedeverybodytomeasMumblethatafternoon，eitherbywayofhumourornecessity。
Thatmusthavebeenoneofmyearliestessaysintheartofpoliteconversation，andIrememberthatIbeganbycriticisingthelocalrailwayservice，andthatatthethirdsentenceorthereaboutsMrs。MumblesaidinadistinctlybrightandencouragingwaythatshefearedIwasavery“frivolous“person。
IwondernowwhatitwasIsaidthatwas“frivolous。”
Idon’tknowwhathappenedtoendthatconversation，orifithadanend。Iremembertalkingtooneoftheclergyforatimeratherawkwardly，andbeinggivenasortoftopographicalhistoryofBeckenham，whichheassuredmetimeaftertimewas“Quiteanoldplace。Quiteanoldplace。”AsthoughIhadtreateditasnewandhemeanttobeverypatientbutveryconvincing。Thenwehungupinadistinctpause，andmyauntrescuedme。
“George。”shesaidinaconfidentialundertone，“keepthepota-boiling。”Andthenaudibly，“Isay，willyoubotholdtrotaboutwithteaabit？”
“OnlytoodelightedtoTROTforyou，Mrs。Ponderevo。”saidtheclergyman，becomingfearfullyexpertandinhiselements；“onlytoodelighted。”
Ifoundwewereneararustictable，andthatthehousemaidwasbehindusinasuitablepositiontocatchusonthereboundwiththeteathings。
“Trot！”repeatedtheclergymantome，muchamused；“excellentexpression！”AndIjustsavedhimfromthetrayasheturnedabout。
Wehandedteaforawhile。
“Give’emcakes。”saidmyaunt，flushed，butwellinhand。
“Helps’emtotalk，George。Alwaystalkbestafteralittlenourishment。Likethrowingabitofturfdownanoldgeyser。”
Shesurveyedthegatheringwithapredominantblueeyeandhelpedherselftotea。
“Theykeepongoingstiff。”shesaidinanundertone。“I’vedonemybest。”
“It’sbeenahugesuccess。”Isaidencouragingly。
“Thatboyhashadhislegscrossedinthatpositionandhasn’tspokenfortenminutes。Stifferandstiffer。Brittle。He’sbeginningadrycough——alwaysabadsign，George。Walk’emabout，shallI？——rubtheirnoseswithsnow？”
Happilyshedidn’t。Igotmyselfinvolvedwiththegentlewomanfromnextdoor，apensive，languid-lookinglittlewomanwithalowvoice，andfelltalking；ourtopic，CatsandDogs，andwhichitwaswelikedbest。
“Ialwaysfeel。”saidthepensivelittlewoman，“thatthere’ssomethingaboutadog——Acathasn’tgotit。”
“Yes。”Ifoundmyselfadmittingwithgreatenthusiasm，“thereissomething。Andyetagain——“
“Oh！Iknowthere’ssomethingaboutacat，too。Butitisn’tthesame。”
“Notquitethesame。”Iadmitted；“butstillit’ssomething。”
“Ah！Butsuchadifferentsomething！”
“Moresinuous。”
“Muchmore。”
“Eversomuchmore。”
“Itmakesallthedifference，don’tyouthink？”
“Yes。”Isaid，“ALL。”
Sheglancedatmegravelyandsighedalong，deeplyfelt“Yes。”
Alongpause。
Thethingseemedtometoamounttoastale-mate。Fearcameintomyheartandmuchperplexity。
“The——er——Roses。”Isaid。Ifeltlikeadrowningman。“Thoseroses——don’tyouthinktheyare——verybeautifulflowers？”
“Aren’tthey！”sheagreedgently。“Thereseemstobesomethinginroses——something——Idon’tknowhowtoexpressit。”
“Something。”Isaidhelpfully。
“Yes。”shesaid，“something。Isn’tthere？”
“Sofewpeopleseeit。”Isaid；“more’sthepity！”
Shesighedandsaidagainverysoftly，“Yes。”
Therewasanotherlongpause。Ilookedatherandshewasthinkingdreamily。Thedrowningsensationreturned，thefearandenfeeblement。Iperceivedbyasortofinspirationthathertea-cupwasempty。
“Letmetakeyourcup。”Isaidabruptly，and，thatsecured，madeforthetablebythesummer-house。Ihadnointentionthenofdesertingmyaunt。ButcloseathandthebigFrenchwindowofthedrawing-roomyawnedinvitingandsuggestive。Icanfeelallthattemptationnow，andparticularlytheprovocationofmycollar。InaninstantIwaslost。Iwould——Justforamoment！
Idashedin，putdownthecuponthekeysofthegrandpianoandfledupstairs，softly，swiftly，threestepsatatime，tothesanctuaryofmyuncle’sstudy，hissnuggery。Iarrivedtherebreathless，convincedtherewasnoreturnforme。Iwasverygladandashamedofmyself，anddesperate。BymeansofapenknifeIcontrivedtobreakopenhiscabinetofcigars，drewachairtothewindow，tookoffmycoat，collarandtie，andremainedsmokingguiltilyandrebelliously，andpeepingthroughtheblindattheassemblyonthelawnuntilitwasaltogethergone。
Theclergymen，Ithought，werewonderful。