the angel and the author-第11节

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many　words。　　That　is　not　her　way。　　It　is　not　for　her；　the　silently…
suffering　victim　of　complicated　antecedent　incidents；　to　purchase　
justice　for　herself　by　pointing　the　finger　of　accusation　against　him　
who；　whatever　his　faults　may　be；　was　once；　at　all　events；　her　father。　　
That　one　fact　in　his　favour　she　can　never　forget。　　Indeed　she　would　
not　if　she　could。　　That　one　asset；　for　whatever　it　may　be　worth　by　
the　time　the　Day　of　Judgment　arrives；　he　shall　retain。　　It　shall　not　
be　taken　from　him。　　〃After　all　he　was　my　father。〃　　She　admits　it；　
with　the　accent　on　the　〃was。〃　　That　he　is　so　no　longer；　he　has　only　
himself　to　blame。　　His　subsequent　behaviour　has　apparently　rendered　
it　necessary　for　her　to　sever　the　relationship。

〃I　love　you；〃　she　has　probably　said　to　him；　paraphrasing　Othello's　
speech　to　Cassio；　〃it　is　my　duty；　andas　by　this　time　you　must　be　
awareit　is　my　keen　if　occasionally　somewhat　involved；　sense　of　duty　
that　is　the　cause　of　almost　all　our　troubles　in　this　play。　　You　will　
always　remain　the　object　of　what　I　cannot　help　feeling　is　misplaced　
affection　on　my　part；　mingled　with　contempt。　　But　never　more　be　
relative　of　mine。〃

Certain　it　is　that　but　for　her　father　she　would　never　have　had　a　
past。　　Failing　anyone　else　on　whom　to　lay　the　blame　for　whatever　the　
lady　may　have　done；　we　can　generally　fall　back　upon　the　father。　　He　
becomes　our　sheet…anchor；　so　to　speak。　　There　are　plays　in　which　at　
first　sight　it　would　almost　appear　there　was　nobody　to　blamenobody；　
except　the　heroine　herself。　　It　all　seems　to　happen　just　because　she　
is　no　better　than　she　ought　to　be：　　clearly；　the　father's　fault！　for　
ever　having　had　a　daughter　no　better　than　she　ought　to　be。　　As　the　
Heroine　of　a　certain　Problem　Play　once　put　it　neatly　and　succinctly　
to　the　old　man　himself：　　〃It　is　you　parents　that　make　us　children　
what　we　are。〃　　She　had　him　there。　　He　had　not　a　word　to　answer　for　
himself；　but　went　off　centre；　leaving　his　hat　behind　him。

Sometimes；　however；　the　father　is　merely　a　〃Scientist〃which　in　
Stageland　is　another　term　for　helpless　imbecile。　　In　Stageland；　if　a　
gentleman　has　not　got　to　have　much　brain　and　you　do　not　know　what　
else　to　make　of　him；　you　let　him　be　a　scientistand　then；　of　course；　
he　is　only　to　blame　in　a　minor　degree。　　If　he　had　not　been　a　
scientistthinking　more　of　his　silly　old　stars　or　beetles　than　of　
his　intricate　daughter；　he　might　have　done　something。　　The　heroine　
does　not　say　precisely　what：　　perhaps　have　taken　her　up　stairs　now　
and　again；　while　she　was　still　young　and　susceptible　of　improvement；　
and　have　spanked　some　sense　into　her。

＇The　Stage　Hero　who；　for　once；　had　Justice　done　to　him。＇

I　remember　witnessing　long　ago；　in　a　country　barn；　a　highly　moral　
play。　　It　was　a　Problem　Play；　now　I　come　to　think　of　it。　　At　least；　
that　is；　it　would　have　been　a　Problem　Play　but　that　the　party　with　
the　past　happened　in　this　case　to　be　merely　a　male　thing。　　Stage　life　
presents　no　problems　to　the　man。　　The　hero　of　the　Problem　Play　has　
not　got　to　wonder　what　to　do；　he　has　got　to　wonder　only　what　the　
heroine　will　do　next。　　The　herohe　was　not　exactly　the　hero；　he　
would　have　been　the　hero　had　he　not　been　hanged　in　the　last　act。　　But　
for　that　he　was　rather　a　nice　young　man；　full　of　sentiment　and　not　
ashamed　of　it。　　From　the　scaffold　he　pleaded　for　leave　to　embrace　his　
mother　just　once　more　before　he　died。　　It　was　a　pretty　idea。　　The　
hangman　himself　was　touched。　　The　necessary　leave　was　granted　him。　　
He　descended　the　steps　and　flung　his　arms　round　the　sobbing　old　lady；　
andbit　off　her　nose。　　After　that　he　told　her　why　he　had　bitten　off　
her　nose。　　It　appeared　that　when　he　was　a　boy；　he　had　returned　home　
one　evening　with　a　rabbit　in　his　pocket。　　Instead　of　putting　him　
across　her　knee；　and　working　into　him　the　eighth　commandment；　she　had　
said　nothing；　but　that　it　seemed　to　be　a　fairly　useful　sort　of　
rabbit；　and　had　sent　him　out　into　the　garden　to　pick　onions。　　If　she　
had　done　her　duty　by　him　then；　he　would　not　have　been　now　in　his　
present　most　unsatisfactory　position；　and　she　would　still　have　had　
her　nose。　　The　fathers　and　mothers　in　the　audience　applauded；　but　the　
children；　scenting　addition　to　precedent；　looked　glum。

Maybe　it　is　something　of　this　kind　the　heroine　is　hinting　at。　　
Perhaps　the　Problem　has　nothing　to　do　with　the　heroine　herself；　but　
with　the　heroine's　parents：　　what　is　the　best　way　of　bringing　up　a　
daughter　who　shows　the　slightest　sign　of　developing　a　tendency　
towards　a　Past？　　Can　it　be　done　by　kindness？　　And；　if　not；　how　much？

Occasionally　the　parents　attempt　to　solve　the　Problem；　so　far　as　they　
are　concerned；　by　dying　youngshortly　after　the　heroine's　birth。　　No　
doubt　they　argue　to　themselves　this　is　their　only　chance　of　avoiding　
future　blame。　　But　they　do　not　get　out　of　it　so　easily。

〃Ah；　if　I　had　only　had　a　motheror　even　a　father！〃　cries　the　
heroine：　　one　feels　how　mean　it　was　of　them　to　slip　away　as　they　did。

The　fact　remains；　however；　that　they　are　dead。　　One　despises　them　for　
dying；　but　beyond　that　it　is　difficult　to　hold　them　personally　
responsible　for　the　heroine's　subsequent　misdeeds。　　The　argument　
takes　to　itself　new　shape。　　Is　it　Fate　that　is　to　blame？　　The　lady　
herself　would　seem　to　favour　this　suggestion。　　It　has　always　been　her　
fate；　she　explains；　to　bring　suffering　and　misery　upon　those　she　
loves。　　At　first；　according　to　her　own　account；　she　rebelled　against　
this　cruel　Fatepossibly　instigated　thereto　by　the　people　
unfortunate　enough　to　he　loved　by　her。　　But　of　late　she　has　come　to　
accept　this　strange　destiny　of　hers　with　touching　resignation。　　It　
grieves　her；　when　she　thinks　of　it；　that　she　is　unable　to　imbue　those　
she　loves　with　her　own　patient　spirit。　　They　seem　to　be　a　fretful　
little　band。

Considered　as　a　scapegoat；　Fate；　as　compared　with　the　father；　has　
this　advantage：　　it　is　always　about：　　it　cannot　slip　away　and　die　
before　the　real　trouble　begins：　　it　cannot　even　plead　a　scientific　
head；　it　is　there　all　the　time。　　With　care　one　can　blame　it　for　most　
everything。　　The　vexing　thing　about　it　is；　that　it　does　not　mind　
being　blamed。　　One　cannot　make　Fate　feel　small　and　mean。　　It　affords　
no　relief　to　our　harrowed　feelings　to　cry　out　indignantly　to　Fate：　　
〃look　here；　what　you　have　done。　　Look　at　this　sweet　and　well…
proportioned　lady；　compelled　to　travel　first…class；　accompanied　by　an　
amount　of　luggage　that　must　be　a　perpetual　nightmare　to　her　maid；　
from　one　fashionable　European　resort　to　another；　forced　to　exist　on　a　
well…secured　income　of；　apparently；　five　thousand　a　year；　most　of　
which　has　to　go　in　clothes；　beloved　by　only　the　best　people　in　the　
play；　talked　about　by　everybody　incessantly　to　the　exclusion　of　
everybody　elseall　the　neighbours　interested　in　her　and　in　nobody　
else　much；　all　the　women　envying　her；　all　the　men　tumbling　over　one　
another　after　herlooks；　in　spite　of　all　her　worries；　not　a　day　
older　than　twenty…three；　and　has　discovered　a　dressmaker　never　yet　
known　to　have　been　an　hour　behind　her　promise！　　And　all　your　fault；　
yours；　Fate。　　Will　nothing　move　you　to　shame？〃

＇She　has　a　way　of　mislaying　her　Husband。＇

It　brings　no　satisfaction　with　it；　speaking　out　one's　mind　to　Fate。　　
We　want　to　see　him　before　us；　the　thing　of　flesh　and　blood　that　has　
brought　all　this　upon　her。　　Was　it　that　early　husbandor　rather　the　
gentleman　she　thought　was　her　husband。　　As　a　matter　of　fact；　he　was　a　
husband。　　Only　he　did　not　happen　to　be　hers。　　That　naturally　confused　
her。　　〃Then　who　is　my　husband？〃　she　seems　to　have　said　to　herself；　〃I　
had　a　husband：　　I　remember　it　distinctly。〃

〃Difficult　to　know　them　apart　from　one　another；〃　says　the　lady　with　
the　past；　〃the　way　they　dress　them　all　alike　nowadays。　　I　suppose　it　
does　not　really　matter。　　They　are　much　the　same　as　one　another　when　
you　get　them　home。　　Doesn't　do　to　be　too　fussy。〃

She　is　a　careless　woman。　　She　is　always　mislaying　that　early　husband。　　
And　she　has　an　unfortunate　knack　of　finding　him　at　the　wrong　moment。　　
Perhaps　that　is　the　Problem：　　What　is　a　lady　to　do　with　a　husband　for　
whom　she　has　no　further　use？　　If　she　gives　him　away　he　is　sure　to　
come　back；　like　the　clever　dog　that　is　sent　in　a　hamper　to　the　other　
end　of　the　kingdom；　and　three　days　afterwards　is　found　gasping　on　the　
doorstep。　　If　she　leaves　him　in　the　middle　of　South　Africa；　with　most　
of　the　heavy　baggage　and　all　the　debts；　she　may　reckon　it　a　certainty　
that　on　her　return　from　her　next　honeymoon　he　will　be　the　first　to　
greet　her。

Her　surprise　at　meeting　him　again　is　a　little　unreasonable。　　She　
seems　to　be　under　the　impression　that　because　she　has　forgotten　him；　
he　is　for　all　practical　purposes　dead。

〃Why　I　forgot　all　about　him；〃　she　seems　to　be　arguing　to　herself；　
〃seven　years　ago　at　least。　　According　to　the　laws　of　Nature　there　
ought　to　be　nothing　left　of　him　but　just　his　bones。〃

She　is　indignant　at　finding　he　is　still　alive；　and　lets　him　know　it
tells　him　he　is　a　beast　for　turning　up　at　his　sister's　party；　and　
pleads　to　him　for　one　last　favour：　　that　he　will　go　away　where　
neither　she　nor　anybody　else　of　any　importance　will　ever　see