"If she was willing to brave her father in that way, why was your engagement broken off?"

"My uncle was so very difficult to deal with. I didn't see her for some time." Frank did not say--perhaps, he did not know--that his engagement had been broken off through his own instability and weakness of character. The young lady, whom he called Nellie, had told him she would wait if he would elect a profession and work for a place in it. But Frank had not been able to forego late hours and restaurants, and Nellie had married some one who could. "You know I converted her. Doesn't her father hate me for that! We used to go to high ma.s.s at the oratory. I explained to her the whole of the Catholic religion."

"But I thought you didn't believe in it yourself?"

"I am talking of some time ago; besides, a woman, it isn't quite the same thing; and if I have saved her soul! I don't know if I told you that I was writing a novel; I don't think I did. The idea of it is this: A young man has loved three women. The first charmed him by her exceeding beauty; he lives with her for a time. The second captivates him, or rather holds him through his senses; his love for her is merely a sensuality; then he falls in love with a fair young girl as pure as falling snow of any stain in deed or in thought; he is engaged to marry her--or, I don't know, I haven't made up my mind on that point, perhaps it would be better if he did marry her. Well, the woman whom he has loved with a merely sensual pa.s.sion comes back, and to revenge herself she tries to tempt the good girl to go wrong; she talks to her of men and pleasures; this is a good idea, I think, for I feel sure it is women far more than men who lead women astray. Then the first woman whom he has loved for her beauty merely, comes along and continues the diabolical work of the first, by suggesting--I don't know, anything--that the young girl should go in for dress; the young man finds out the scheme, and to save the girl he murders her, he is thrown into prison, he is tried, and in the crowded Court he makes a great speech--he tells how he murdered her to save her from sin, he tells the judge that on the Judgment Day a pure white soul will plead for him. What an opportunity for a piece of splendid writing! The Court would be filled with fashionable women, that weep and sob, they cannot contain themselves, the judge would wish to stop the young man, but he cannot. What a splendid scene to describe! And the young man goes to execution confident, and a.s.sured that he has done well. What do you think of it?"

"It is really difficult for me to say; I never like giving an opinion on a subject I don't understand."

"I know; but what do you think?"

Fortunately for w.i.l.l.y's peace, the conversation was at this moment violently interrupted by Triss. He rushed forth, and Frank was only in time to prevent a pitched battle. He returned leading the dog by his silk handkerchief, amid the murmur of nurse-maids and Jewesses.

"That's the worst of him; he never can see a big dog without wanting to go for him. Down, sir, down--I won't have you growl at me."

"I can't see what pleasure you can find in a brute like that."

"I a.s.sure you he's very good-tempered; he has a habit of growling, but he does not mean anything by it. What were we talking about?"

"I think we were talking about the ladies. Have you seen anything nice lately? What's the present Mrs. Escott like, dark or fair?"

"There isn't one, I a.s.sure you. I met rather a nice woman at my uncle's, about two months ago, a Lady Seely. I don't know that you would call her a pretty woman; rather a turned-up nose, a pinched-in waist, beautiful shoulders. Hair of a golden tinge, diamonds, and dresses covered with beads. She flirted a great deal. We talked about love, and we laughed at husbands, and she asked me to come and see her in rather a pointed way. It is rather difficult to explain these things, but I think that if I were to go in for her--"

"That you would pull it off?"

The young men laughed loudly, and then Frank said: "But somehow I don't much care about her. I met such a pretty girl the other day at the theatre. There were no stalls, and as I wanted to see the piece very much, I went into the dress circle. There was only one seat in the back row. I struggled past a lot of people, dropped into my place, and watched the piece without troubling myself to see who was sitting next to me. It was not until the _entr'acte_ that I looked round. I felt my neighbour's eyes were fixed upon me. She was one of the prettiest girls you ever saw in your life--a blonde face, pale brown hair, and such wonderful teeth--her laughter, I a.s.sure you, was beautiful. I asked her what she thought of the piece. She looked away and didn't answer. It was rather a slap in the face for me, but I am not easily done. I immediately said: 'I should have apologised before for the way I inconvenienced you in crushing into my seat, but, really, the place is so narrow that you don't know how to get by.'

This rather stumped her, she was obliged to say something. The girl on the other side (not half a bad looking girl, short brown curly hair, rather a roguish face) was the most civil at first. She wasn't as pretty as the one next to me, but she spoke the more willingly; the one next to me tried to prevent her. However, I got on with them, one thing led to another, and when the piece was over, I fetched their hats and coats and we walked a little way up the street together. I tried to get them to come to supper; they couldn't do that, for they had to be in at a certain time, so we went to Gatti's and had some coffee. I couldn't make out for a long time what they were; they were evidently not prost.i.tutes, and they did not seem to me to be quite ladies. What do you think they were?"

"I haven't an idea--actresses?"

"No. They wouldn't tell me for a long time. I got it out of them at last; they're at the bar in the Gaiety Restaurant."

"Bar girls?"

"Yes."

"Some of those bar girls are very pretty; rather dangerous, though, I should think."

"They seemed to me to be very nice girls; you would be surprised if you heard them talk. I a.s.sure you the one that sat next to me spoke just like a lady. You know in these hard times people must do something. Lots of ladies have to buckle to and work for their bread."

Frank lapsed into silence. w.i.l.l.y sat apparently watching the blue and green spectacle of the sea. Frank knew that it interested him not the least, and he wondered if his friend had heard what he had been saying. Triss, seeing that smelling and fighting were equally vain endeavours, had laid himself out in the sun, and he returned his master's caresses by deep growls. One more menacing than the others woke w.i.l.l.y from his meditation, and he said: "What's the time? It ought to be getting on to lunch time."

"I daresay it is."

"Where shall we go? Do you know of a good place? What about that restaurant opposite the pier?"

"Well," said w.i.l.l.y, with a short, abrupt laugh, "the fact is, I must lunch at my office; but I shall be very glad if you will come."

"I didn't know you had an office--an office for what?"

"I started an agency at the beginning of the year for artificial manure, but I think I shall drop it. I am arranging to go on the Stock Exchange. The difficulty is whether I shall be able to get my father to allow me to take enough money out of the business."

"What business?"

"The distillery."

"Oh, but what about this office? Why are you obliged to lunch at your office? Are you expecting customers? I know nothing about that sort of thing."

"No, I wish I were. The fact is, my missis is staying in Brighton for a few weeks. The child has been ailing a good deal lately, and the doctor ordered change of air."

"Child! Missis! I know nothing of this."

"A very nice woman, I think you'll like her. She is devoted to me.

We've been together now two years or more, I can't say exactly, I should have to refer to my diary."

"But the child?"

"The child isn't mine. She had the child before I knew her."

"And what is the matter with it?"

"Curvature of the spine. The doctor says she will outgrow it. Cissy will be quite strong and healthy although she may never have what you would call a good figure. But there is a matter on which I want to speak to you. The fact is, I am going to be married."

"To whom?"

"To the lady whom you will see at lunch, Cissy's mother."

Frank said: "If you really love her I have nothing to say against it."

w.i.l.l.y did not answer. Frank waited for an answer and then broke the silence: "But do you love her?"

"Yes, I am very fond of her; she is a very good sort."

Frank was implacable. "Do you love her like the other one?" The question wounded, but Frank was absorbed in his own special sentimentalities.

"I was younger then, it is not the same; I am getting old. How many years older am I than you--seven, I think? You are three-and-twenty, I am thirty. How time flies!"

"Yes, I am three-and-twenty--you don't look thirty."

"I feel it, though; few fellows have had so much trouble as I have.

Your life has been all pleasure."

"If a man really loves a woman he is always right to marry her. Why should we suppose that a woman may not reform--that true love may not raise her? I was talking to a novelist the other day; he told me thestory of a book he is writing. It is about a woman who leaves the husband she has never loved for the man she adores; she goes away with him, he marries her, and she sinks lower and lower, until she becomes a common prost.i.tute."

"You are quite mistaken. I am sure that when you see the missis--"

"My dear fellow, pray do not misunderstand me. I would not for worlds.

I am only telling you about a book, if you will only listen. I told him that I thought the story would be ten times as interesting if, instead of being degraded, the woman were raised by the love of the man who took her away from her husband. He made the husband a snivelling little creature, and the lover good-looking--that's the old game. I would have made the lover insignificant and the husband good- looking. Nevertheless she loved the lover better. I know of nothing more n.o.ble than for a man to marry the woman he loves, and to raise her by the force of his love; he could teach her, instruct her. Nellie will never forget me. I gave her a religion, I taught her and explained to her the whole of the Catholic faith--"

"I hope you won't try to convert my sisters."