the new machiavelli-第42节

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cheek　until　I　rescued　him　and　her；　and　left　him　free　to　congratulate　

the　new　Lady　Snape　on　her　husband's　K。　C。　B。



I　took　Margaret　down。　　We　achieved　no　feats　of　mutual　expression；　

except　that　it　was　abundantly　clear　we　were　both　very　pleased　and　

interested　to　meet　again；　and　that　we　had　both　kept　memories　of　each　

other。　　We　made　that　Misterton　tea…party　and　the　subsequent　

marriages　of　my　cousins　and　the　world　of　Burslem　generally；　matter　

for　quite　an　agreeable　conversation　until　at　last　Altiora；　following　

her　invariable　custom；　called　me　by　name　imperatively　out　of　our　

duologue。　　〃Mr。　Remington；〃　she　said；　〃we　want　your　opinion〃　in　

her　entirely　characteristic　effort　to　get　all　the　threads　of　

conversation　into　her　own　hands　for　the　climax　that　always　wound　up　

her　dinners。　　How　the　other　women　used　to　hate　those　concluding　

raids　of　hers！　　I　forget　most　of　the　other　people　at　that　dinner；　

nor　can　I　recall　what　the　crowning　rally　was　about。　　It　didn't　in　

any　way　join　on　to　my　impression　of　Margaret。



In　the　drawing…room　of　the　matting　floor　I　rejoined　her；　with　

Altiora's　manifest　connivance；　and　in　the　interval　I　had　been　

thinking　of　our　former　meeting。



〃Do　you　find　London；〃　I　asked；　〃give　you　more　opportunity　for　doing　

things　and　learning　things　than　Burslem？〃



She　showed　at　once　she　appreciated　my　allusion　to　her　former　

confidences。　　〃I　was　very　discontented　then；〃　she　said　and　paused。　　

〃I've　really　only　been　in　London　for　a　few　months。　　It's　so　

different。　　In　Burslem；　life　seems　all　business　and　gettingwithout　

any　reason。　　One　went　on　and　it　didn't　seem　to　mean　anything。　　At　

least　anything　that　mattered。　。　。　。　　London　seems　to　be　so　full　of　

meaningsall　mixed　up　together。〃



She　knitted　her　brows　over　her　words　and　smiled　appealingly　at　the　

end　as　if　for　consideration　for　her　inadequate　expression；　

appealingly　and　almost　humorously。



I　looked　understandingly　at　her。　　〃We　have　all；〃　I　agreed；　〃to　come　

to　London。〃



〃One　sees　so　much　distress；〃　she　added；　as　if　she　felt　she　had　

completely　omitted　something；　and　needed　a　codicil。



〃What　are　you　doing　in　London？〃



〃I'm　thinking　of　studying。　　Some　social　question。　　I　thought　perhaps　

I　might　go　and　study　social　conditions　as　Mrs。　Bailey　did；　go　

perhaps　as　a　work…girl　or　see　the　reality　of　living　in；　but　Mrs。　

Bailey　thought　perhaps　it　wasn't　quite　my　work。〃



〃Are　you　studying？〃



〃I'm　going　to　a　good　many　lectures；　and　perhaps　I　shall　take　up　a　

regular　course　at　the　Westminster　School　of　Politics　and　Sociology。　　

But　Mrs。　Bailey　doesn't　seem　to　believe　very　much　in　that　either。〃



Her　faintly　whimsical　smile　returned。　　〃I　seem　rather　indefinite；〃　

she　apologised；　〃but　one　does　not　want　to　get　entangled　in　things　

one　can't　do。　　Oneone　has　so　many　advantages；　one's　life　seems　to　

be　such　a　trust　and　such　a　responsibility〃



She　stopped。



〃A　man　gets　driven　into　work；〃　I　said。



〃It　must　be　splendid　to　be　Mrs。　Bailey；〃　she　replied　with　a　glance　

of　envious　admiration　across　the　room。



〃SHE　has　no　doubts；　anyhow；〃　I　remarked。



〃She　HAD；〃　said　Margaret　with　the　pride　of　one　who　has　received　

great　confidences。







6





〃You've　met　before？〃　said　Altiora；　a　day　or　so　later。



I　explained　when。



〃You　find　her　interesting？〃



I　saw　in　a　flash　that　Altiora　meant　to　marry　me　to　Margaret。



Her　intention　became　much　clearer　as　the　year　developed。　　Altiora　

was　systematic　even　in　matters　that　evade　system。　　I　was　to　marry　

Margaret；　and　freed　from　the　need　of　making　an　income　I　was　to　come　

into　politicsas　an　exponent　of　Baileyism。　　She　put　it　down　with　

the　other　excellent　and　advantageous　things　that　should　occupy　her　

summer　holiday。　　It　was　her　pride　and　glory　to　put　things　down　and　

plan　them　out　in　detail　beforehand；　and　I'm　not　quite　sure　that　she　

did　not　even　mark　off　the　day　upon　which　the　engagement　was　to　be　

declared。　　If　she　did；　I　disappointed　her。　　We　didn't　come　to　an　

engagement；　in　spite　of　the　broadest　hints　and　the　glaring　

obviousness　of　everything；　that　summer。



Every　summer　the　Baileys　went　out　of　London　to　some　house　they　hired　

or　borrowed；　leaving　their　secretaries　toiling　behind；　and　they　went　

on　working　hard　in　the　mornings　and　evenings　and　taking　exercise　in　

the　open　air　in　the　afternoon。　　They　cycled　assiduously　and　went　for　

long　walks　at　a　trot；　and　raided　and　studied　（and　incidentally　

explained　themselves　to）　any　social　〃types〃　that　lived　in　the　

neighbourhood。　　One　invaded　type；　resentful　under　research；　

described　them　with　a　dreadful　aptness　as　Donna　Quixote　and　Sancho　

Panzaand　himself　as　a　harmless　windmill；　hurting　no　one　and　

signifying　nothing。　　She　did　rather　tilt　at　things。　　This　particular　

summer　they　were　at　a　pleasant　farmhouse　in　level　country　near　

Pangbourne；　belonging　to　the　Hon。　Wilfrid　Winchester；　and　they　asked　

me　to　come　down　to　rooms　in　the　neighbourhoodAltiora　took　them　for　

a　month　for　me　in　Augustand　board　with　them　upon　extremely　

reasonable　terms；　and　when　I　got　there　I　found　Margaret　sitting　in　a　

hammock　at　Altiora's　feet。　　Lots　of　people；　I　gathered；　were　coming　

and　going　in　the　neighbourhood；　the　Ponts　were　in　a　villa　on　the　

river；　and　the　Rickhams'　houseboat　was　to　moor　for　some　days；　but　

these　irruptions　did　not　impede　a　great　deal　of　duologue　between　

Margaret　and　myself。



Altiora　was　efficient　rather　than　artistic　in　her　match…making。　　She　

sent　us　off　for　long　walks　togetherMargaret　was　a　fairly　good　

walkershe　exhumed　some　defective　croquet　things　and　incited　us　to　

croquet；　not　understanding　that　detestable　game　is　the　worst　

stimulant　for　lovers　in　the　world。　　And　Margaret　and　I　were　always　

getting　left　about；　and　finding　ourselves　for　odd　half…hours　in　the　

kitchen…garden　with　nothing　to　do　except　talk；　or　we　were　told　with　

a　wave　of　the　hand　to　run　away　and　amuse　each　other。



Altiora　even　tried　a　picnic　in　canoes；　knowing　from　fiction　rather　

than　imagination　or　experience　the　conclusive　nature　of　such　

excursions。　　But　there　she　fumbled　at　the　last　moment；　and　elected　

at　the　river's　brink　to　share　a　canoe　with　me。　　Bailey　showed　so　

much　zeal　and　so　little　skillhis　hat　fell　off　and　he　became　

miraculously　nothing　but　paddle…clutching　hands　and　a　vast　wrinkled　

browthat　at　last　he　had　to　be　paddled　ignominiously　by　Margaret；　

while　Altiora；　after　a　phase　of　rigid　discretion；　as　nearly　as　

possible　drowned　herselfand　me　no　doubt　into　the　bargainwith　a　

sudden　lateral　gesture　of　the　arm　to　emphasise　the　high　note　with　

which　she　dismissed　the　efficiency　of　the　Charity　Organisation　

Society。　　We　shipped　about　an　inch　of　water　and　sat　in　it　for　the　

rest　of　the　time；　an　inconvenience　she　disregarded　heroically。　　We　

had　difficulties　in　landing　Oscar　from　his　frail　craft　upon　the　ait　

of　our　feasting；he　didn't　balance　sideways　and　was　much　alarmed；　

and　afterwards；　as　Margaret　had　a　pain　in　her　back；　I　took　him　in　my　

canoe；　let　him　hide　his　shame　with　an　ineffectual　but　not　positively　

harmful　paddle；　and　towed　the　other　by　means　of　the　joined　painters。　　

Still　it　was　the　fault　of　the　inadequate　information　supplied　in　the　

books　and　not　of　Altiora　that　that　was　not　the　date　of　my　betrothal。



I　find　it　not　a　little　difficult　to　state　what　kept　me　back　from　

proposing　marriage　to　Margaret　that　summer；　and　what　urged　me　

forward　at　last　to　marry　her。　　It　is　so　much　easier　to　remember　

one's　resolutions　than　to　remember　the　moods　and　suggestions　that　

produced　them。



Marrying　and　getting　married　was；　I　think；　a　pretty　simple　affair　to　

Altiora；　it　was　something　that　happened　to　the　adolescent　and　

unmarried　when　you　threw　them　together　under　the　circumstances　of　

health；　warmth　and　leisure。　　It　happened　with　the　kindly　and　

approving　smiles　of　the　more　experienced　elders　who　had　organised　

these　proximities。　　The　young　people　married；　settled　down；　children　

ensued；　and　father　and　mother　turned　their　minds；　now　decently　and　

properly　disillusioned；　to　other　things。　　That　to　Altiora　was　the　

normal　sexual　life；　and　she　believed　it　to　be　the　quality　of　the　

great　bulk　of　the　life　about　her。



One　of　the　great　barriers　to　human　understanding　is　the　wide　

temperamental　difference　one　finds　in　the　values　of　things　relating　

to　sex。　　It　is　the　issue　upon　which　people　most　need　training　in　

charity　and　imaginative　sympathy。　　Here　are　no　universal　standards　

at　all；　and　indeed　for　no　single　man　nor　woman　does　there　seem　to　be　

any　fixed　standard；　so　much　do　the　accidents　of　circumstances　and　

one's　physical　phases　affect　one's　interpretations。　　There　is　

nothing　in　the　whole　range　of　sexual　fact　that　may　not　seem　

supremely　beautiful　or　humanly　jolly　or　magnificently　wicked　or　

disgusting　or　trivial　or　utterly　insignificant；　according　to　the　eye　

that　sees　or　the　mood　that　colours。　　Here　is　somethin