CULCH. Thanks, but I am no equestrian. (_To himself, after_ PODBURY'S _departure._) He seems to manage well enough without me. And yet I do think my society would be more good for him than----. Why did he want to borrow that book, though? Can my influence after all----(_He walks on thoughtfully, till he finds himself before an optician's window in which a mechanical monkey is looking through a miniature telescope; the monkey suddenly turns its head and gibbers at him. This familiarity depresses him, and he moves away, feeling lonelier than ever._)

ON THE TERRACE OF THE BURG. HALF AN HOUR LATER.

CULCH. (_on a seat commanding a panorama of roofs, gables, turrets, and spires_). Now this is a thing that can only be properly enjoyed when one is by oneself. The mere presence of Podbury--well, thank goodness, he's found more congenial company. (_He sighs._) That looks like an English girl sketching on the next seat. Rather a fine profile, so regular--general air of repose about her. Singular, now I think of it, how little repose there is about Maud. (_The_ Young Lady _rises and walks to the parapet._) Dear me, she has left her india-rubber behind her. I really think I ought----(_He rescues the india-rubber, which he restores to the owner._) Am I mistaken in supposing that this piece of india-rubber is your property?

THE Y. L. (_in musically precise tones_). Your supposition is perfectly correct. I was under the impression that it would be safe where it was for a few moments; but I am obliged to you, nevertheless. I find india-rubber quite indispensable in sketching.

CULCH. I can quite understand that. I--I mean that it reduces the--er--paralysing sense of irrevocability.

THE Y. L. You express my own meaning exactly.

[CULCHARD, _not being quite sure of his own, is proportionately pleased._

CULCH. You have chosen an inspiring scene, rich with historical interest.

THE Y. L. (_enthusiastically_). Yes, indeed. What names rise to one's mind instinctively! Melanchthon, John Huss, Kraft, and Peter Vischer, and Durer, and Wohlgemut, and Maximilian the First, and Louis of Bavaria!

CULCH. (_who has read up the local history, and does not intend to be beaten at this game_). Precisely. And the imperious Margrave of Brandenburg, and Wallenstein, and Gustavus Adolphus, and Goetz von Berlichingen. One can almost see their--er--picturesque personalities still haunting the narrow streets as we look down.

THE Y. L. I find it impossible to distinguish even the streets from here, I confess, but you probably see with the imagination of an artist.

_Are_ you one by any chance?

[Ill.u.s.tration: "ER--I HAVE BROUGHT YOU THE PHILOSOPHICAL WORK I MENTIONED."]

CULCH. Only in words; that is, I record my impressions in a poetic form.

A perfect sonnet may render a scene, a mood, a pa.s.sing thought, more indelibly than the most finished sketch; may it not?

THE Y. L. That is quite true; indeed, I occasionally relieve my feelings by the composition of Greek or Latin verses, which I find, on the whole, better adapted to express the subtler emotions. Don't you agree with me there?

CULCH. (_who has done no Greek or Latin verse since he left school_).

Doubtless. But I am hindering your sketch?

THE Y. L. No, I was merely saturating my mind with the general effect. I shall not really begin my sketch till to-morrow. I am going now. I hope the genius of the place will inspire you.

CULCH. Thank you. I trust it will--er--have that effect. (_To himself after the_ Young Lady _has left the terrace._) Now, that's a very superior girl--she has intellect, style, culture--everything the ideal woman _should_ have. I wonder, now, whether, if I had met her before--but such speculations are most unprofitable! How clear her eyes looked through her _pince-nez_! Blue-grey, like Athene's own. If I'd been with Podbury, I should never have had this talk. The sight of him would have repelled her at once. I shall tell him when I take him that book that he had better go his own way with his new friends. I like the view from this terrace--I shall come up here again--often.

SCENE--_The Conversations-Saal at the Wurtemburger-Hof. Evening._ PODBURY _at the piano_; BOB PRENDERGAST _and his sister_ HYPATIA _seated near him._

PODB. (_chanting dolefully_)--

Now then, this party as what came from Fla-an-ders, What had the com-plex-i-on rich and rare, He went and took and caught the yaller ja-un-ders-- And his complexion isn't what it were!

MR. AND MISS PRENDERGAST (_joining sympathetically in chorus_). And his complexion _isn't_ what it _were_!

[_There is a faint knock at the door, and_ CULCHARD _enters with a volume under his arm. None of the three observe him, and he stands and listens stiffly as_ PODBURY _continues,_--

Well, next this party as what came from Fla-an-ders, Whose complex-shun was formi-ally rare, Eloped to Injia with Eliza Sa-aun-ders, As lived close by in Canonbury Square.

CULCH. (_advances to piano and touches_ PODBURY'S _arm with the air of his better angel_). Er--I have brought you the philosophical work I mentioned. I will leave it for an occasion when you are--er--in a fitter frame of mind for its perusal.

PODB. Oh, beg pardon, didn't see you, old fellow. Awfully obliged; jam it down anywhere, and (_whispering_) I say, I want to introduce you to----

CULCH. (_in a tone of emphatic disapproval_). You must really excuse me, as I fear I should be scarcely a congenial spirit in such a party. So good-night--or, rather--er--good-_bye_. [_He withdraws._

MISS HYPATIA P. (_just as_ C. _is about to close the door_). Please don't stop, Mr. Podbury, that song is quite too deliciously inane!

[CULCHARD _turns as he hears the voice, and--too late--recognises his Athene of that afternoon. He retires in confusion, and, as he pa.s.ses under the window, hears_ PODBURY _sing the final verse._

The moral is--Now _don't_ you come from Fla-an-ders, If you should have complexions rich and rare; And don't you go and catch the yaller ja-aun-ders, Nor yet know girls in Canonbury Square!

MISS HYPATIA P. (_in a clear soprano_). "Nor yet know girls in Canonbury Square!" [CULCHARD _pa.s.ses on, crushed._

CHAPTER IX.

+Culchard is rather too Clever.+

SCENE--_The Burg Terrace at Nuremberg._ PODBURY _on a bench, grappling with the "Epitome of Spencer."_

PODB. (_reading aloud, with comments_). "For really to conceive the infinite divisibility of matter is mentally to follow out the divisions to infinity, and to do this would require infinite time." You're right _there_, old c.o.c.k, and, as I haven't got it to spare, I won't trouble you!--um--um ... "opposite absurdities"--"subjective modifications" ...

"ultimate scientific ideas, then, are all representative of ideas that cannot be comprehended." I could have told _him_ that. What bally rot this Philosophy is--but I suppose I must peg away at it. Didn't she say she was sorry I didn't go in more for cultivating my mind? (_He looks up._) Jove, here she comes! and yes, there's that beggar Culchard with her! I thought he'd--how the d.i.c.kens did he manage to----? I see what _he's_ after--thinks he'll cut me out--twice over--but he shan't this time, if I can help it.

CULCH. (_to_ MISS HYPATIA PRENDERGAST). No, the Modern Spirit is too earnestly intent upon solving the problems of existence to tolerate humour in its literature. Humour has served a certain purpose in its day, but that day is done, and I for one cannot pretend to regret its decay.

MISS H. P. Nor I. In fact, the only humour I ever _really_ appreciated is that of the ancient cla.s.sics. There has been no true fun since Aristophanes died. At least, _I_ think not.

PODB. (_catching the last sentence_). Oh, I say, come, Miss Prendergast.

Have you ever read _The Jumping Frog_?

MISS P. I was under the impression that _all_ frogs jumped. But I never read--I--ah--_study_.

PODB. (_declining to be crushed_). Well, I call Mark Twain funny anyhow.

But _I'm_ going in for study now. I am--honour bright! I'm swotting up Spencer--look! [_He exhibits the volume proudly._

[Ill.u.s.tration: PODBURY GRAPPLING WITH THE EPITOME OF SPENCER.]

MISS P. And are you not enchanted by the logical lucidity of that great thinker?

PODB. Um--I should be more enchanted if I ever had the faintest notion what the great thinker was driving at. Look here--here's a simple little sentence for you! (_Reads._) "Let us therefore bear in mind the following:--That of the whole incident force affecting an aggregate, the effective force is that which remains after deducting the non-effective, that the temporarily effective and the permanently effective vary inversely, and that the molar and molecular changes wrought by the permanently effective force also vary inversely." (_With pathos._) And that's only in an _Epitome_, mind you!

MISS P. Really, Mr. Podbury, I see nothing particularly incomprehensible in that.

CULCH. (_with his superior smile_). My dear Podbury, you can hardly expect to master the Spencerian phraseology and habit of thought without at least _some_ preliminary mental discipline!