Mike Fletcher - George Moore (best books to read now TXT) 📗
- Author: George Moore
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Order. I Should Walk With Him At The Head Of The Choir. Bah! Life Is
Too Pitifully Short. I Should Like To Taste Of Every Pleasure--Of
Every Emotion; And What Have I Tasted? Nothing. I Have Done Nothing.
I Have Wheedled A Few Women Who Wanted To Be Wheedled, That Is All."
Chapter 8 Pg 106
"And How Are You, Old Chap? I Am Delighted To See You."
"I'm Equally Glad To See You. You Have Made Alterations In The Place
... I Came Down From London With A Lot Of Johnnies And Tarts--Kitty
Carew, Laura Stanley And Her Sister. I Got Dicky The Driver To Turn
In Here. You Were Playing The _Dies Iræ_. I Never Was More Impressed
In My Life. You Should Have Seen The Coach Beneath The Great Window
... St. George Overcoming The Johnnies ... The Tumult Of The Organ ...
And I Couldn't Stand Singing 'Two Lovely Black Eyes.' I Sickened Of
Them--The Whole Thing--And I Felt I Must See You."
"And Are They Outside?"
"No; They Have Gone Off."
Relieved Of Fear Of Intrusion, John Laughed Loudly, And Commented
Humorously On The Spectacle Of The Brighton Coach Filled With
Revellers Drawn Up Beneath His Window. Then, To Discuss The
Window--The Quality Of The Glass--He Turned Out The Lamps; The Hall
Filled With The Legend, And Their Hearts Full Of It, And Delighting
In The Sensation Of Each Other, They Walked Up And Down The Echoing
Hall. John Remembered A Certain Fugue By Bach, And Motioning To The
Page To Blow, He Seated Himself At The Key-Board. The Celestial
Shield And Crest Still Remained In Little Colour. Mike Saw John's
Hands Moving Over The Key-Board, And His Soul Went Out In Worship Of
That Soul, Divided From The World's Pleasure, Self-Sufficing, Alone;
Seeking God Only In His Home Of Organ Fugue And Legended Pane. He
Understood The Nobleness And Purity Which Was Now About Him--It
Seemed Impossible To Him To Return To Kitty.
Swift And Complete Reaction Had Come Upon Him, And Choked With The
Moral Sulphur Of The Last Twenty-Four Hours, He Craved The Breath Of
Purity. He Must Talk Of Plato's _Republic_, Of Wagner's Operas, Of
Schopenhauer; Even Lily Was Not Now So Imperative As These; And Next
Day, After Lunch, When The Question Of His Departure Was Alluded To,
Mike Felt It Was Impossible To Leave John; But Persecuted With
Scruples Of Disloyalty To Kitty, He Resisted His Friend's Invitation
To Stay. He Urged He Had No Clothes. John Offered To Send The
Coachman Into Brighton For What He Wanted.
"But Perhaps You Have No Money," John Said, Inadvertently, And A Look
Of Apprehension Passed Into His Face.
Chapter 8 Pg 107
"Oh, I Have Plenty Of Money--'Tisn't That. I Haven't Told You That A
Friend Of Mine, A Lady, Has Left Me Nearly Five Thousand A Year. I
Don't Think You Ever Saw Her--Lady Seeley."
John Burst Into Uncontrollable Laughter. "That Is The Best Thing I
Ever Heard In All My Life. I Don't Think I Ever Heard Anything That
Amused Me More. The Grotesqueness Of The Whole Thing." Seeing That
Mike Was Annoyed He Hastened To Explain His Mirth. "The
Inexplicableness Of Human Action Always Amuses Me; The Inexplicable
Is Romance, At Least That Is The Only Way I Can Understand Romance.
When You Reduce Life To A Logical Sequence You Destroy All Poetry,
And, I Think, All Reality. We Do Things Constantly, And No One Can
Say Why We Do Them. Frederick The Great Coming In, After Reviewing
His Troops, To Play The Flute, That To Me Is Intensely Romantic. A
Lady, Whom You Probably Treated Exceedingly Badly, Leaving You Her
Property, That Too Is, To Me."
Admonished By His Conscience, John's Hilarity Clouded Into A Sort Of
Semi-Humorous Gravity, And He Advised Mike On The Necessity Of
Reforming His Life.
"I Am Very Sorry, For There Is No One Whose Society Is As Attractive
To Me As Yours; There Is No One In Whom I Find So Many Of My Ideas,
And Yet There Is No One From Whom I Am So Widely Separated; At Times
You Are Sublime, And Then You Turn Round And Roll In The Nastiest
Dirt You Can Find."
Mike Loved A Lecture From John, And He Exerted Himself To Talk.
Looking At Each Other In Admiration, They Regretted The Other's
Weaknesses. Mike Deplored John's Conscience, Which Had Forced Him To
Burn His Poems; John Deplored Mike's Unsteady Mind, Which Veered And
Yielded To Every Passion. And In The Hall They Talked Of The Great
Musician And The Great King, Or John Played The Beautiful Hymns Of
The Russian Church, In Whose Pathetic Charm He Declared Chopin Had
Found His Inspiration; They Spoke Of The _Grail_ And The _Romance Of
The Swan_, Or, Wandering Into The Library, They Read Aloud The
Ever-Flowering Eloquence Of De Quincey, The Marmoreal Loveliness Of
Landor, The Nurselike Tenderness Of Tennyson.
Through All These Æstheticisms Lily Young Shone, Her Light Waxing To
Fulness Day By Day. Mike Had Written To Frank, Beseeching Him To
Forward Any Letters That Might Arrive. He Expected An Answer From
Lily Within The Week, And Not Until Its Close Did He Begin To Grow
Fearful. Then Rapidly His Fear Increased And Unable To Bear With So
Much Desire In The Presence Of John Norton, He Rushed To London, And
Thence To Marlow. He Railed Against His Own Weakness In Going To
Marlow, For If A Letter Had Arrived It Would Have Been Forwarded To
Him.
"Why Deceive Myself With False Hopes? If The Letter Had Miscarried It
Would Have Been Returned Through The Post-Office. I Wrote My Address
Plain Enough." Then He Railed Against Lily. "The Little Vixen! She
Will Show That Letter; She Will Pass It Round; Perhaps At This Moment
She Is Laughing At Me! What A Fool I Was To Write It! However, All's
Well That Ends Well, And I Am Not Going To Be Married--I Have Escaped
After All."
The Train Jogged Like His Thoughts, And The Landscape Fled In
Fleeting Visions Like His Dreams. He Laid His Face In His Hands, And
Could Not Disguise The Truth That He Desired Her Above All Things,
For She Was The Sweetest He Had Seen.
"There Are," He Said, Talking To Frank And Lizzie, "Two Kinds Of
Love--The First Is A Strictly Personal Appetite, Which Merely Seeks
Its Own Assuagement; The Second Draws You Out Of Yourself, And Is Far
More Terrible. I Have Found Both These Loves, But In Different
Women."
"Did No Woman Ever Inspire Both Loves In You?" Said Lizzie.
Chapter 8 Pg 108
"I Thought One Woman Had."
"Oh, Tell Us About Her."
Mike Changed The Conversation, And He Talked Of The Newspaper Until
It Was Time To Go To The Station. He Was Now Certain That Lily Had
Rejected Him. His Grief Soaked Through Him Like A Wet, Dreary Day.
Sometimes, Indeed, He Seemed To Brighten, But There Is Often A Deeper
Sadness In A Smile Than In A Flood Of Tears, And He Was More Than
Ever Sad When He Thought Of The Life He Had Desired, And Had Lost;
Which He Had Seen Almost Within His Reach, And Which Had Now
Disappeared For Ever. He Had Thought Of This Life As A Green Isle,
Where There Were Flowers And A Shrine. Isle, Flowers, And Shrine Had
For Ever Vanished, And Nothing Remained But The Round Monotony Of The
Desert Ocean. Then Throwing Off His Grief With A Laugh, He Eagerly
Anticipated The Impressions Of The Visit He Meditated To Belthorpe
Park, And His Soul Went Out To Meet This New Adventure. He Thought Of
The Embarrassment Of The Servants Receiving Their New Master; Of The
Attitude Of The Country People Towards Him; And Deciding That He Had
Better Arrive Before Dinner, Just As If He Were A Visitor, He Sent A
Telegram Saying That The Groom Was To Meet Him At The Station, And
That Dinner Was To Be Prepared.
Lady Seeley's Solicitors Had Told Him That According To Her
Ladyship's Will, Belthorpe Was To Be Kept Up Exactly As It Had Been
In Her Life-Time, And The Servants Had Received Notice, That In
Pursuance Of Her Ladyship's Expressed Wish, Mr. Fletcher Would Make
No Changes, And That They Were Free To Remain On If They Thought
Proper. Mike Approved Of This Arrangement--It Saved Him From A Task
Of Finding New Servants, A Task Which He Would Have Bungled Sadly,
And Which He Would Have Had To Attempt, For He Had Decided To Enjoy
All The Pleasures Of A Country Place, And To Act The Country
Gentleman Until He Wearied Of The Part. Life Is But A Farce, And The
More Different Parts You Play In That Farce The More You Enjoy. Here
Was A New Farce--He The Bohemian, Going Down To An Old Ancestral Home
To Play The Part Of The Squire Of The Parish. It Could Not But Prove
Rich In Amusing Situations, And He Was Determined To Play It. What A
Sell It Would Be For Lily, For Perhaps She Had Refused Him Because
She Thought He Was Poor. Contemptuous Thoughts About Women Rose In
His Mind, But They Died In Thronging Sensations Of Vanity--He, At
Least, Had Not Found Women Mercenary. Lily Was The First! Then
Putting Thoughts Of Her Utterly Aside, He Surrendered Himself To The
Happy Consideration Of His Own Good Fortune. "A New Farce! Yes; That
Was The Way To Look Upon It. I Wonder What The Servants Will Think! I
Wonder What They'll Think Of Me! ... Harrison, The Butler, Was With
Her In Green Street. Her Maid, Fairfield, Was With Her When I Saw Her
Last--Nearly Three Years Ago. Fairfield Knew I Was Her Lover, And She
Has Told The Others. But What Does It Matter? I Don't Care A Damn
What They Think. Besides, Servants Are Far More Jealous Of Our Honour
Than We Are Ourselves; They'll Trump Up Some Story About Cousinship,
Or That I Had Saved Her Ladyship's Life--Not A Bad Notion That Last;
I Had Better Stick To It Myself."
As He Sought A Plausible Tale, His Thoughts Detached Themselves, And
It Struck Him That The Gentleman Sitting Opposite Was His Next-Door
Neighbour. He Imagined His Visit; The Invitation To Dine; The
Inevitable Daughters In The Drawing-Room. How Would He Be Received By
The County Folks?
"That Depends," He Thought, "Entirely On The Number Of Unmarried
Girls There Are In The Neighbourhood. The Morals And Manners Of An
English County Are Determined By Its Female Population. If The Number
Of Females Is Large, Manners Are Familiar,
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