第50章
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  “Howfarourpeoplewouldtakeupthatsortofthing——“beganthevicar。

  “I’mallforgettingthatgoodoldEnglishspiritbackagain。”

  saidmyuncle。“Merrymakings。Ladsandlassesdancingonthevillagegreen。Harvesthome。Fairings。YuleLog——alltherestofit。”

  “HowwouldoldSallyGluedoforaMayQueen?”askedoneofthesonsintheslightpausethatfollowed。

  “OrAnnieGlassbound?”saidtheother,withthehugevirileguffawofayoungmanwhosevoicehasonlyrecentlybroken。

  “SallyGlueiseighty-five。”explainedthevicar,“andAnnieGlassboundiswell——ayoungladyofextremelygenerousproportions。Andnotquiteright,youknow。Notquiteright——here。”Hetappedhisbrow。

  “Generousproportions!”saidtheeldestson,andtheguffawswererenewed。

  “Yousee。”saidthevicar,“allthebriskergirlsgointoserviceinornearLondon。Thelifeofexcitementattractsthem。Andnodoubtthehigherwageshavesomethingtodowithit。Andthelibertytowearfinery。Andgenerally——freedomfromrestraint。

  SothattheremightbealittlediffcultyperhapstofindaMayQueenherejustatpresentwhowasreallyyoungander——

  pretty。OfcourseIcouldn’tthinkofanyofmygirls——oranythingofthatsort。”

  “Wegottoattract’emback。”saidmyuncle。“That’swhatIfeelaboutit。WegottoBuck-Upthecountry。TheEnglishcountryisagoingconcernstill;justastheEstablishedChurch——ifyou’llexcusemesayingit,isagoingconcern。JustasOxfordis——orCambridge。Oranyofthoseold,fineoldthings。Onlyitwantsfreshcapital,freshideesandfreshmethods。Lightrailways,f’rinstance——scientificuseofdrainage。Wirefencingmachinery——allthat。”

  Thevicar’sfaceforonemomentbetrayeddismay。Perhapshewasthinkingofhiscountrywalksamidsthehawthornsandhoneysuckle。

  “There’sgreatthings。”saidmyuncle,“tobedoneonMod’unlineswithVillageJamandPickles——boiledinthecountry。”

  Itwasthereverberationofthislastsentenceinmymind,I

  think,thatsharpenedmysentimentalsympathyaswewentthroughthestragglingvillagestreetandacrossthetrimgreenonourwaybacktoLondon。Itseemedthatafternoonthemosttranquilandidylliccollectionofcreeper-shelteredhomesyoucanimagine;thatchstilllingeredonawhitewashedcottageortwo,pyracanthus,wall-flowers,anddaffodilsabounded,andanunsystematicorchardorsowaswhitewithblossomaboveandgaywithbulbsbelow。Inotedarowofstrawbeehives,beehive-shaped,beehivesofthetypelongsincecondemnedasinefficientbyallprogressiveminds,andinthedoctor’sacreofgrassaflockoftwowholesheepwasgrazing,——nodoubthe’dtakenthemonaccount。Twomenandoneoldwomanmadegesturesofabjectvassalage,andmyunclerepliedwithalordlygestureofhisgreatmotoringglove。

  “England’sfullofBitslikethis。”saidmyuncle,leaningoverthefrontseatandlookingbackwithgreatsatisfaction。TheblackglareofhisgogglesrestedforatimeontherecedingturretsofLadyGrovejustpeepingoverthetrees。

  “Ishallhaveaflagstaff,Ithink。”heconsidered。“Thenonecouldshowwhenoneisinresidence。Thevillagerswillliketoknow。”。

  Ireflected。“Theywill“Isaid。“They’reusedtolikingtoknow。”。

  Myaunthadbeenunusuallysilent。Suddenlyshespoke。“HesaysSnap。”sheremarked;“hebuysthatplace。AndaniceoldjobofHousekeepinghegivesme!Hesailsthroughthevillageswellinglikeanoldturkey。Andwho’llhavetoscootthebutler?Me!

  Who’sgottoforgetallsheeverknewandstartagain?Me!

  Who’sgottotrekfromChiselhurstandbeagreatlady?Me!。

  YouoldBother!JustwhenIwassettlingdownandbeginningtofeelathome。”

  Myuncleturnedhisgogglestoher。“Ah!THIStimeitishome,Susan。Wegotthere。”

  ItseemstomenowbutastepfromthebuyingofLadyGrovetothebeginningofCrestHill,fromthedayswhentheformerwasastupendousachievementtothedayswhenitwastoosmallanddarkandinconvenientaltogetherforagreatfinancier’suse。FormethatwasaperiodofincreasingdetachmentfromourbusinessandthegreatworldofLondon;Isawitmoreandmoreinbrokenglimpses,andsometimesIwasworkinginmylittlepavilionaboveLadyGroveforafortnighttogether;evenwhenIcameupitwasoftensolelyforameetingoftheaeronauticalsocietyorforoneofthelearnedsocietiesortoconsultliteratureoremploysearchersorsomesuchspecialbusiness。Formyuncleitwasaperiodofstupendousinflation。EachtimeImethimIfoundhimmoreconfident,morecomprehensive,moreconsciouslyafactoringreataffairs。Soonhewasnolongeranassociateofmerelybusinessmen;hewasbigenoughfortheattentionsofgreaterpowers。

  Igrewusedtodiscoveringsomeitemofpersonalnewsabouthiminmyeveningpaper,ortothesightofafull-pageportraitofhiminasixpennymagazine。Usuallythenewswasofsomemunificentact,someromanticpieceofbuyingorgivingorsomefreshrumourofreconstruction。Hesaved,youwillremember,theParburyReynoldsforthecountry。Orattimes,itwouldbeaninterviewormyuncle’scontributiontosomesymposiumonthe“SecretofSuccess。”orsuch-liketopic。Orwonderfultalesofhispowerofwork,ofhiswonderfulorganisationtogetthingsdone,ofhisinstantdecisionsandremarkablepowerofjudginghisfellow-men。Theyrepeatedhisgreatmot:“Eighthourworkingday——Iwanteightyhours!”

  Hebecamemodestlybutresolutely“public。”TheycartoonedhiminVanityFair。Oneyearmyaunt,lookingindeedaverygracious,slenderlady,facedtheportraitoftheKinginthegreatroomatBurlingtonHouse,andthenextyearsawamedallionofmyunclebyEwart,lookingoutupontheworld,proudandimperial,butonthewholeatrifletooprominentlyconvex,fromthewallsoftheNewGallery。

  Isharedonlyintermittentlyinhissocialexperiences。Peopleknewofme,itistrue,andmanyofthemsoughttomakethroughmeasortofflankattackuponhim,andtherewasalegend,owing,veryunreasonably,partlytomygrowingscientificreputationandpartlytoanelementofreserveinmymanner,thatIplayedamuchlargershareinplanninghisoperationsthanwasactuallythecase。Thisledtooneortwoveryintimateprivatedinners,tomyinclusioninoneortwohousepartiesandvariousoddoffersofintroductionsandservicesthatIdidn’tforthemostpartaccept。AmongotherpeoplewhosoughtmeinthiswaywasArchieGarvell,nowasmart,impecunioussoldierofnoparticulardistinction,whowould,Ithink,havebeenquitepreparedtodevelopanysportinginstinctsIpossessed,andwhowasbeautifullyunawareofourformercontact。Hewasalwaysofferingmewinners;nodoubtinaspiritofanticipatoryexchangeforsomereallygoodthinginourmorescientificandcertainmethodofgettingsomethingfornothing。

  Inspiteofmypreoccupationwithmyexperiments,work,Idid,I

  findnowthatIcometoransackmyimpressions,seeagreatdealofthegreatworldduringthoseeventfulyears;IhadanearviewofthemachinerybywhichanastoundingEmpireisrun,rubbedshouldersandexchangedexperienceswithbishopsandstatesmen,politicalwomenandwomenwhowerenotpolitical,physiciansandsoldiers,artistsandauthors,thedirectorsofgreatjournals,philanthropistsandallsortsofeminent,significantpeople。I

  sawthestatesmenwithouttheirordersandthebishopswithbutalittlepurplesilkleftoverfromtheircanonicals,inhaling,notincensenbutcigarsmoke。Icouldlookatthemallthebetterbecause,forthemostpart,theywerenotlookingatmebutatmyuncle,andcalculatingconsciouslyorunconsciouslyhowtheymightusehimandassimilatehimtotheirsystem,themostunpremeditated,subtle,successfulandaimlessplutocracythateverencumberedthedestiniesofmankind。Notoneofthem,sofarasIcouldsee,untildisasterovertookhim,resentedhislies,hisalmostnakeddishonestyofmethod,thedisorderlydisturbanceofthistradeandthat,causedbyhisspasmodicoperations。Icanseethemnowabouthim,seethempolite,watchful,various;hisstiffcompactlittlefigurealwaysacentreofattention,hiswiryhair,hisbriefnose,hisunder-lip,electricwithself-confidence。Wanderingmarginallythroughdistinguishedgatherings,Iwouldcatchthewhispers:“That’sMr。Ponderevo!”

  “Thelittleman?”

  “Yes,thelittlebounderwiththeglasses。”

  “Theysayhe’smade——“。

  OrIwouldseehimonsomeparterreofaplatformbesidemyaunt’shurrayinghat,amidsttitlesandcostumes,“holdinghisendup。”ashewouldsay,subscribingheavilytoobviouscharities,evenattimesmakingbriefconvulsivespeechesinsomegoodcausebeforethemostexaltedaudiences。“Mr。Chairman,yourRoyalHighness,myLords,LadiesandGentlemen。”`hewouldbeginamidstsubsidingapplauseandadjustthoseobstinateglassesandthrustbackthewingsofhisfrock-coatandresthishandsuponhishipsandspeakhisfragmentwitheverandagainanincidentalZzzz。Hishandswouldfretabouthimashespoke,fiddlehisglasses,feelinhiswaistcoatpockets;everandagainhewouldriseslowlytohistoesasasentenceunwoundjerkilylikeaclockworksnake,anddropbackonhisheelsattheend。

  Theyweretheverygesturesofourfirstencounterwhenhehadstoodbeforetheemptyfireplaceinhisminutedrapedparlourandtalkedofmyfuturetomymother。

  InthosemeasurelesslylonghotafternoonsinthelittleshopatWimblehursthehadtalkedanddreamtoftheRomanceofModernCommerce。Here,surely,washisromancecometrue。

  Peoplesaythatmyunclelosthisheadatthecrestofhisfortunes,butifonemaytellsomuchtruthofamanonehasinamannerloved,heneverhadverymuchheadtolose。Hewasalwaysimaginative,erratic,inconsistent,recklesslyinexact,andhisinundationofwealthmerelygavehimscopeforthesequalities。

  Itistrue,indeed,thattowardstheclimaxhebecameintenselyirritableattimesandimpatientofcontradiction,butthat,I

  think,wasratherthegnawinguneasinessofsanitythananymentaldisturbance。ButIfindithardeithertojudgehimorconveythefulldevelopmentofhimtothereader。Isawtoomuchofhim;mymemoryischokedwithdisarrangedmoodsandaspects。

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