mr. brumley hovered for a few moments in the hall conversing with lady beach-mandarin's butler, whom he had known for some years and helped about a small investment, and who was now being abjectly polite and grateful to him for his attention. it gave mr. brumley a nice feudal feeling to establish and maintain such relationships. the furry-eyed boy fumbled with the sticks and umbrellas in the background and wondered if he too would ever climb to these levels of respectful gilt-tipped friendliness. mr. brumley hovered the more readily because he knew lady harman was with the looking-glass in the little parlour behind the dining-room on her way to the outer world. at last she emerged. it was instantly manifest to mr. brumley that she had expected to find him there. she smiled frankly at him, with the faintest admission of complicity in her smile.
"taxi, milady?" said the butler.
she seemed to reflect. "no, i will walk." she hesitated over a glove button. "mr. brumley, is there a tube station near here?"
"not two minutes. but can't i perhaps take you in a taxi?"
"i'd rather walk."
"i will show you——"
he found himself most agreeably walking off with her.
still more agreeable things were to follow for mr. brumley.
she appeared to meditate upon a sudden idea. she disregarded some conversational opening of his that he forgot in the instant. "mr. brumley," she said, "i didn't intend to go directly home."
"i'm altogether at your service," said mr. brumley.
"at least," said lady harman with that careful truthfulness of hers, "it occurred to me during lunch that i wouldn't go directly home."
mr. brumley reined in an imagination that threatened to bolt with him.
"i want," said lady harman, "to go to kensington gardens, i think. this can't be far from kensington gardens—and i want to sit there on a green chair and—meditate—and afterwards i want to find a tube railway or something that will take me back to putney. there is really no need for me to go directly home.... it's very stupid of me but i don't know my way about london as a rational creature should do. so will you take me and put me in a green chair and—tell me how afterwards i can find the tube and get home? do you mind?"
"all my time, so long as you want it, is at your service," said mr. brumley with convincing earnestness. "and it's not five minutes to the gardens. and afterwards a taxi-cab——"
"no," said lady harman mindful of her one-and-eightpence, "i prefer a tube. but that we can talk about later. you're sure, mr. brumley, i'm not invading your time?"
"i wish you could see into my mind," said mr. brumley.
she became almost barefaced. "it is so true," she said, "that at lunch one can't really talk to anyone. and i've so wanted to talk to you. ever since we met before."
mr. brumley conveyed an unfeigned delight.
"since then," said lady harman, "i've read your euphemia books." then after a little unskilful pause, "again." then she blushed and added, "i had read one of them, you know, before."
"exactly," he said with an infinite helpfulness.
"and you seem so sympathetic, so understanding. i feel that all sorts of things that are muddled in my mind would come clear if i could have a really good talk. to you...."
they were now through the gates approaching the albert memorial. mr. brumley was filled with an idea so desirable that it made him fear to suggest it.
"of course we can talk very comfortably here," he said, "under these great trees. but i do so wish——have you seen those great borders at hampton court? the whole place is glowing, and in such sunshine as this——a taxi—will take us there under the hour. if you are free until half-past five."
why shouldn't she?
the proposal seemed so outrageous to all the world of lady harman that in her present mood she felt it was her duty in the cause of womanhood to nerve herself and accept it....
"i mustn't be later than half-past five."
"we could snatch a glimpse of it all and be back before then."
"in that case——it would be very agreeable."
(why shouldn't she? it would no doubt make sir isaac furiously angry—if he heard of it. but it was the sort of thing other women of her class did; didn't all the novels testify? she had a perfect right——
and besides, mr. brumley was so entirely harmless.)
4
it had been lady harman's clear intention to have a luminous and illuminating discussion of the peculiar difficulties and perplexities of her position with mr. brumley. since their first encounter this idea had grown up in her mind. she was one of those women who turn instinctively to men and away from women for counsel. there was to her perception something wise and kindly and reassuring in him; she felt that he had lived and suffered and understood and that he was ready to help other people to live; his heart she knew from his published works was buried with his dead euphemia, and he seemed as near a thing to a brother and a friend as she was ever likely to meet. she wanted to tell him all this and then to broach her teeming and tangled difficulties, about her own permissible freedoms, about her social responsibilities, about sir isaac's business. but now as their taxi dodged through the traffic of kensington high street and went on its way past olympia and so out westwards, she found it extremely difficult to fix her mind upon the large propositions with which it had been her intention to open. do as she would to feel that this was a momentous occasion, she could not suppress, she could not ignore an obstinate and entirely undignified persuasion that she was having a tremendous lark. the passing vehicles, various motors, omnibuses, vans, carriages, the thronging pedestrians, the shops and houses, were all so distractingly interesting that at last she had to put it fairly to herself whether she hadn't better resign herself to the sensations of the present and reserve that sustained discussion for an interval she foresaw as inevitable on some comfortable seat under great trees at hampton court. you cannot talk well and penetratingly about fundamental things when you are in a not too well-hung taxi which is racing to get ahead of a vast red motor-omnibus....
with a certain discretion mr. brumley had instructed the chauffeur to cross the river not at putney but at hammersmith, and so they went by barnes station and up a still almost rural lane into richmond park, and there suddenly they were among big trees and bracken and red deer and it might have been a hundred miles from london streets. mr. brumley directed the driver to make a detour that gave them quite all the best of the park.
the mind of mr. brumley was also agreeably excited and dispersed on this occasion. it was an occasion of which he had been dreaming very frequently of late, he had invented quite remarkable dialogues during those dreams, and now he too was conversationally inadequate and with a similar feeling of unexpected adventure. he was now no more ready to go to the roots of things than lady harman. he talked on the way down chiefly of the route they were following, of the changes in the london traffic due to motor traction and of the charm and amenity of richmond park. and it was only after they had arrived at hampton court and dismissed the taxi and spent some time upon the borders, that they came at last to a seat under a grove beside a long piece of water bearing water lilies, and sat down and made a beginning with the good talk. then indeed she tried to gather together the heads of her perplexity and mr. brumley did his best to do justice to confidence she reposed in him....
it wasn't at all the conversation he had dreamt of; it was halting, it was inconclusive, it was full of a vague dissatisfaction.
the roots of this dissatisfaction lay perhaps more than anything else in her inattention to him—how shall i say it?—as him. hints have been conveyed to the reader already that for mr. brumley the universe was largely a setting, a tangle, a maze, a quest enshrining at the heart of it and adumbrating everywhere, a mystical her, and his experience of this world had pointed him very definitely to the conclusion that for that large other half of mankind which is woman, the quality of things was reciprocal and centred, for all the appearances and pretences of other interests, in—him. and he was disposed to believe that the other things in life, not merely the pomp and glories but the faiths and ambitions and devotions, were all demonstrably little more than posings and dressings of this great duality. a large part of his own interests and of the interests of the women he knew best, was the sustained and in some cases recurrent discovery and elaboration of lights and glimpses of him or her as the case might be, in various definite individuals; and it was a surprise to him, it perplexed him to find that this lovely person, so beautifully equipped for those mutual researches which constituted, he felt, the heart of life, was yet completely in her manner unaware of this primary sincerity and looking quite simply, as it were, over him and through him at such things as the ethics of the baking, confectionery and refreshment trade and the limits of individual responsibility in these matters. the conclusion that she was "unawakened" was inevitable.
the dream of "awakening" this sleeping beauty associated itself in a logical sequence with his interpretations. i do not say that such thoughts were clear in mr. brumley's mind, they were not, but into this shape the forms of his thoughts fell. such things dimly felt below the clear level of consciousness were in him. and they gave his attempt to take up and answer the question that perplexed her, something of the quality of an attempt to clothe and serve hidden purposes. it could not but be evident to him that the effort of lady harman to free herself a little from her husband's circumvallation and to disentangle herself a little from the realities of his commercial life, might lead to such a liberation as would leave her like a nascent element ready to recombine. and it was entirely in the vein of this drift of thought in him that he should resolve upon an assiduous proximity against that moment of release and awakening....
i do not do mr. brumley as the human lover justice if i lead you to suppose that he plotted thus clearly and calculatingly. yet all this was in his mind. all this was in mr. brumley, but it wasn't mr. brumley. presented with it as a portrait of his mind, he would have denied it indignantly—and, knowing it was there, have grown a little flushed in his denials. quite equally in his mind was a simple desire to please her, to do what she wished, to help her because she wanted help. and a quite keen desire to be clean and honest about her and everything connected with her, for his own sake as well as for her sake—for the sake of the relationship....
so you have mr. brumley on the green seat under the great trees at hampton court, in his neat london clothes, his quite becoming silk-hat, above his neatly handsome and intelligent profile, with his gloves in his hand and one arm over the seat back, going now very earnestly and thoughtfully into the question of the social benefit of the international bread and cake stores and whether it was possible for her to "do anything" to repair any wrongs that might have arisen out of that organization, and you will understand why there is a little flush in his cheek and why his sentences are a trifle disconnected and tentative and why his eye wanders now to the soft raven tresses about lady harman's ear, now to the sweet movement of her speaking lips and now to the gracious droop of her pose as she sits forward, elbow upon crossed knee and chin on glove, and jabs her parasol at the ground in her unaccustomed efforts to explain and discuss the difficulties of her position.
and you will understand too why it is that he doesn't deal with the question before him so simply and impartially as he seems to do. obscuring this extremely interesting problem of a woman growing to man-like sense of responsibility in her social consequences, is the dramatic proclivity that makes him see all this merely as something which must necessarily weaken lady harman's loyalty and qualify her submission to sir isaac, that makes him want to utilize it and develop it in that direction....
