Upsidonia Part 15

CHAPTER XIV

It was about a week after I had been welcomed into the Perry family that we were all asked to take high tea at the house of Mrs. Perry's sister, the Countess of Blueberry.

The most important thing that had happened in the meantime was that I had fallen deeply in love with Miriam. We had been much together, and our conversations had largely concerned themselves with the curious state of things obtaining in the country from which I had come. Miriam was deeply interested in what I told her, but I had to be very careful.

In some respects she became more and more inclined to approve of a country in which wealth might be used to lessen care, instead of increasing it, and in which even the richest were under no cloud of inferiority. The pictures I painted of English life under conditions of monetary ease appealed alike to her natural tastes, of which in Upsidonia she had to be ashamed, if she were to show right feeling, and to the philanthropic ideals in which she had been brought up. She could never get it out of her mind that we showed great n.o.bility of behaviour in treating rich people with a total absence of contempt, and I did not desire that she should, although I insisted upon the fact itself.

But every now and again I came up against a painful shrinking. I had to be extraordinarily careful how I dealt with the subject of food, for instance, and I think that if I had ever described to her a city banquet, or even a college feast, I should have wiped out at a stroke all the admiration she was inclined to show for the habits and customs of my beloved country.

But short as had been the time since I had come to Magnolia Hall, I had already adapted myself somewhat to the Upsidonian point of view--indeed, a good deal more than I should have thought possible.

In the matter of food and drink, I was now inclined to despise the delicate living that I had at first taken such pleasure in. I can only say on my own behalf--if I have seemed to represent myself as greedier than I will confess to being--that I had been living a hard active life for some weeks past, and was in the most abounding physical health; also that Mrs. Lemon, the Perrys' cook, was a supreme artist.[26] After all, my usual life was necessarily abstemious, and it had happened to me before to get very tired of luxurious living, when I had been staying with friends accustomed to it, and to go back to my own moderate habits with relief.

So I now ate and drank sparingly at Magnolia Hall, and was inclined to feel the same disgust towards those who did neither as was commonly expressed around me. And it did not any longer seem curious to me that contempt for luxury should be a general and genuine feeling in Upsidonia. It was encouraged by constant expression, and those who might be temperamentally inclined towards what is called "doing themselves well," were ashamed of indulging their inclinations out of respect for public opinion.[27]

In the matter of clothes I had also somewhat changed my point of view.

It is gratifying to feel one's self well-dressed, if everyone is well-dressed around one; but if one is not suitably dressed as well, the gratification disappears. It was not long before I began to feel, walking about the streets of Culbut, in the excellent clothes for which I still owed money to the Universal Stores, that I was not in the fashion. It was rather as if I had turned out to shoot, amongst a crowd of men in tweeds and woollens, wearing a shiny silk hat, varnished boots, and striped trousers with creases down them. I discovered that it was only in the most exclusive set, of which Lord Potter was one of the leaders, that it was the fashion to go ragged and dirty. The ordinary members of the educated cla.s.ses were as clean as we are. But they liked old clothes, and didn't want to be bothered with large collections of them, or of anything else. Those who spent the day in bodily toil always changed in the evening, wearing the newer of their two suits, which took the place of the other one when that was entirely worn out.

The mention of Lord Potter reminds me of an encounter I had with that n.o.bleman a few days after I had hoped I had seen the last of him, in the police court.

I was walking along the road from Culbut to Magnolia Hall, and had reached the point at which the villas were beginning to get larger and to stand in gardens of some extent, when I saw a filthy-looking tramp crossing the road from one gate to the other, and recognised him as I pa.s.sed as Lord Potter.

He did not look at me, but when I had gone on a few yards, he called out: "Hi, you fellow!" in an authoritative voice.

I took no notice, and he called out again more loudly, so I turned round to see what he wanted.

"Didn't you hear me call?" he asked angrily. "Which is Hoggenschlick's house?"

"I don't know," I said.

"Well, just run in and ask if Hoggenschlick lives here, and tell him that Lord Potter wants to see him. I think this is the house. If it isn't, it is the one across the road."

"Don't you think you might find out which it is for yourself?" I asked.

"I'm not your servant."

His face changed as he recognised me. "Oh, it's you!" he exclaimed disagreeably; "and dressed like the cad I knew you were when I first saw you. If you give me any of your impudence you'll find yourself in trouble again, and I'll take care you don't get off this time. I shall keep my eye on you. Where are you living?"

"Where I can get a wash sometimes," I replied. "You don't seem to be so fortunate."

Then I turned round and walked on, leaving him very angry.

But to return to Miriam. England, and English life, was a little secret between us; I did not talk about them to anybody else, and asked her not to do so. The fact that she entered willingly into this understanding, which I found so agreeable, being in that state of mind in which _any_ understanding with her would have pleased me, was very gratifying, as tending to show that she had something of the same feeling about it as I had. Oh, we were getting on very well! But she had not yet invited me into her garden.

FOOTNOTES:

[26] She was also an extremely nice woman--the widow of a well-known musician, and herself no mean performer, on the harp.

[27] The same sort of thing holds amongst us, in matters of art, for instance. Perhaps the majority of us prefer chatty pictures with a strong love interest to the works of Holbein and Rembrandt; but we would not make the same fuss if there were a danger of their being taken out of the country.

CHAPTER XV

The Earl of Blueberry was, as I have said, a suburban postman, and as it was his month for making an evening round he was not present at Lady Blueberry's tea-party. And their only son, the Young Viscount Sandpits, had just been commissioned to one of the smart gangs of navvies in which the aristocratic youth of Culbut were delighted to serve, if they were of good enough physique. He, also, was on a night shift, and I did not see him at that time. But the young Ladies Susan and Cynthia Maxted were there, and extremely nice and well-mannered children they were, and very pretty too. They wore clean print frocks, hand-knitted worsted stockings, and serviceable shoes.

Mrs. Perry, Miriam, and Mollie also wore clothes suitable for the occasion. Edward had on a suit of threadbare serge, which he had told me, coming along, that he reserved for such occasions as this; and I wore again the clothes in which I had come into Upsidonia.

We were the only men of the party. Tom was playing cricket, and Mr.

Perry had said that he was not feeling very well, and would dine quietly at his club.

Lady Blueberry received us most graciously in her charming kitchen, from which we went into the parlour, where the table was spread.

Blueberry House was typical of those in the aristocratic quarters of Culbut. You entered by way of the scullery and kitchen, which, with a small yard, were in front of the house. But immediately behind these was a large room occupying the whole breadth of the house, and looking out on to a peaceful park.[28]

We were left for a few minutes in the parlour, while Lady Blueberry took the scones out of the oven and made the tea, and the Ladies Susan and Cynthia, with Mollie's help, brought plates and the teapot to the table.

The parlour was cool and airy, with well-polished floor-boards, but no carpet. The walls were whitewashed and hung with family portraits, some of which seemed to me to be very fine. There was an equestrian portrait of the first Earl of Blueberry in the dress of a royal stableman, that looked to me like a Vand.y.k.e, which, of course, it could not have been; and another of an eighteenth century countess carrying a milkpail, which I should have sworn was a Sir Joshua if I had seen it anywhere else. A charming group of Lady Blueberry and her two daughters, with their own kitchen as a background, was by the famous Upsidonian artist, Corporal, who had also painted Lord Blueberry with his letter-bag, and the gallant young Sandpits, in corduroys, with his pick and shovel.

Lord Blueberry was a dignified figure of a man in this picture, and I thought as I looked at it that I should have felt some hesitation in offering him a tip at Christmas time. But if I had been a resident in Culbut, he, no doubt, would have given me one, and I should not have dared to refuse. Young Lord Sandpits was extremely handsome, and stood up boldly, with his muscular arms bare to the elbows, the picture of virile youth. The artist had got some wonderful lines into this picture, especially in the hang of the trousers, which were strapped below the knee.

The furniture in Lady Blueberry's parlour all seemed to be old, but there was very little of it. There were no easy chairs, and, indeed, no upholstery at all, or anything that detracted from the air of severe simplicity that was the note of the room, and attracted strongly by its restfulness. With the exception of the family portraits, there was no ornament whatever. The tea-table was set with crockery of the cheapest description, but all the shapes were good, and the colour was pleasing.

A grand piano in a corner of the room seemed a somewhat incongruous feature, but Miriam told me as I looked at it that her cousin Susan was exceptionally gifted musically, and she would get her to play for me after tea.[29]

Lady Blueberry presided most graciously at the tea-table. She had that perfectly natural air of courtesy combined with dignity which is the mark of a great lady anywhere. She was formed in a cla.s.sical mould, which the severe lines of her afternoon-gown of black alpaca, relieved with touches of white at the neck and wrists, suited admirably. Her abundant hair was brushed back from her broad and placid brow, and knotted simply on the nape of her neck. There were marks of toil on her beautifully shaped hands, which, according to Upsidonian ideas, became them better than jewels.

We talked about a step-sister of Lord Blueberry's--a Mrs. Claude Chanticleer--who was a prominent member of the dirty set. Mrs. Perry had asked about her, and Lady Blueberry's calm face had been somewhat overshadowed as she told us that Tricky, as they called her, had been causing her family considerable anxiety.

"She is always going in for some new extravagance," she said. "She and Claudie gave up their two rooms, as you know, about a year ago, when Mrs. Chetwynd-Jones died of pneumonia, and took possession of her railway arch."

"But they only use that for a town residence, don't they?" asked Mrs.

Perry.

"Well, of course they went out of town for the hop-picking, and went from one barn party to another through the rest of the autumn; but they were in town for the whole of the winter, and I am quite sure that Tricky must have suffered a good deal from exposure."

"She leads such a rackety life, too," said Edward. "I was coming home from my Lads' Club very late one night in January, and I saw Claudie and Mrs. Claudie and a lot of others round a watchman's shelter. None of them were speaking a word, and they all looked as if they would die of cold before the morning."

"And they call that pleasure!" said Lady Blueberry.

"Do they really persuade themselves that it is pleasure?" I asked.

"They say that endurance is the highest form of pleasure," said Lady Blueberry. "And of course it is so in a way. At least, no sensible person would leave endurance of hardships out of their life altogether.

But the dirty set, as they call them, are so eager for new sensations that they never use any method of life moderately, and would just as soon throw it over altogether, whether it was helpful or not, if anybody started some new craze."

"Susan and I saw Auntie Tricky in the gallery of the opera," said Lady Cynthia, "the night that Aunt Maude took us. Uncle Claudie wasn't there.