Mike Fletcher, George Moore [reading books for 4 year olds .TXT] 📗

Their Breasts And

Their Long Swords.

 

And Seeing Himself In Those Times,  Clad In Armour,  A Knight Templar

Walking In Procession In That Very Church,  John Recited A Verse Of

Tennyson's _Sir Galahad_--

 

  "Sometimes On Lonely Mountain Meres

     I Find A Magic Bark;

   I Leap On Board; No Helmsman Steers:

     I Float Till All Is Dark.

   A Gentle Sound,  An Awful Light!

     Three Angels Bear The Holy Grail;

   With Folded Feet,  In Stoles Of White,

     On Sleeping Wings They Sail.

   Ah,  Blessed Vision! Blood Of God!

     My Spirit Beats Her Mortal Bars,

   As Down Dark Tides The Glory Slides,

     And Star-Like Mingles With The Stars."

 

 

 

 

"Oh! Very Beautiful. 'On Sleeping Wings They Sail.' Say It Again."

 

John Repeated The Stanza,  His Eyes Fixed Upon The Knight.

 

Mike Said--

 

"How Different To-Day The Girls Of The Neighbourhood,  Their

Prayer-Books And Umbrellas! Yet I Don't Think The Anachronism

Displeases Me."

 

"You Say That To Provoke Me; You Cannot Think That All The Dirty

Little Milliners' Girls Of The Neighbourhood Are More Dignified Than

These Templars Marching In Procession And Taking Their Places With

Iron Clangour In The Choir."

 

"So Far As That Is Concerned," Said Mike,  Who Loved To "Draw" John,

"The Little Girls Of The Neighbourhood In All Probability Wash

Themselves A Great Deal Oftener Than The Templars Ever Did. And Have

You Forgotten The Accusations That Were Brought Against Them Before

Chapter 4 Pg 36

The Ecclesiastical Tribunal Assembled In London? What About The Black

Idol With Shining Eyes And Gilded Head?"

 

"Their Vices Were At Least Less Revolting Than The Disgustful

Meanness Of To-Day; Besides,  Nothing Is Really Known About The

Reasons For The Suppression Of The Templars. Men Who Forswear Women

Are Open To All Contumely. Oh! The World Is Wondrous,  Just Wondrous

Well Satisfied With Its Domestic Ideals."

 

The Conversation Came To A Pause,  And Then Mike Spoke Of Lily Young,

And Extolled Her Subtle Beauty And Intelligence.

 

"I Never Liked Any One As I Do Her. I Am Ashamed Of Myself When I

Think Of Her Purity."

 

"The Purity Of ... Had She Been Pure She Would Have Remained In Her

Convent."

 

"If You Had Heard Her Speak Of Her Temptations...."

 

"I Do Not Want To Hear Her Temptations. But It Was You Who Tempted

Her To Leave Her Convent. I Cannot But Think That You Should Marry

Her. There Is Nothing For You But Marriage. You Must Change Your

Life. Think Of The Constant Sin You Are Living In."

 

"But I Don't Believe In Sin."

 

With A Gesture That Declared A Non-Admission Of Such A State Of Soul,

John Hesitated,  And Then He Said--

 

"The Beastliness Of It!"

 

"We Have To Live," Said Mike,  "Since Nature Has So Willed It,  But I

Fully Realize The Knightliness Of Your Revolt Against The Principle

Of Life."

 

John Continued His Admonitions,  And Mike An Amused And Appreciative

Listener.

 

"At All Events,  I Wish You Would Promise Not To Indulge In Improper

Conversation When I Am Present. It Is Dependent Upon Me To Beg Of You

To Oblige Me In This. It Will Add Greatly To Your Dignity To Refrain;

But That Is Your Concern; I Am Thinking Now Only Of Myself. Will You

Promise Me This?"

 

"Yes,  And More; I Will Promise Not To Indulge In Such Conversation,

Even When You Are Not Present. It Is,  As You Say,  Lowering.... I

Agree With You. I Will Strive To Mend My Ways."

 

And Mike Was Sincere; He Was Determined To Become Worthy Of Lily. And

Now The Best Hours Of His Life--Hours Strangely Tense And Strangely

Personal--Were Passed In That Kensington Drawing-Room. She Was To Him

Like The Light Of A Shrine; He Might Kneel And Adore From Afar,  But

He Might Not Approach. The Goddess Had Come To Him Like The Moon To

Endymion. He Knew Nothing,  Not Even If He Were Welcome. Each Visit

Was The Same As The Preceding. A Sweet But Exasperating

Changelessness Reigned In That Drawing-Room--That Pretty Drawing-Room

Where Mother And Daughter Sat In Sweet Naturalness,  Removed From The

Grossness And Meanness Of Life As He Knew It. Neither Illicit

Whispering Nor Affectation Of Reserve,  Only The Charm Of Strict

Behaviour; Unreal And Strange Was The Refinement,  Material And

Mental,  In Which They Lived. And For A Time The Charm Sufficed;

Desire Was At Rest. But She Had Been To See Him,  However At Variance

Such A Visit,  Such Event Seemed With Her Present Demeanour. And

She Must Come Again! In Increasing Restlessness He Conned All The

Narrow Chances Of Meeting Her,  Of Speaking To Her Alone. But No

Accident Varied The Even Tenor Of Their Lives,  The Calm Lake-Like

Impassibility Of Their Relations,  And In Last Resort He Urged Frank

To Give A Dance Or An At Home. And How Ardently He Pleaded,  One

Afternoon,  Sitting Face To Face With Mother And Daughter. Inwardly

Agitated,  But With Outward Calm,  He Impressed Upon Them Many Reasons

For Their Being Of The Party. The Charm Of The Temple,  The River,  And

Glitter Of Light,  The Novel Experience Of Bachelors' Quarters....

They Promised To Come.

Chapter 5 Pg 37

Mike Leaned Forward To Tie His White Cravat. He Was Slight,  And White

And Black,  And He Thought Of Lily,  Of The Exquisite Pleasure Of

Seeing Her And Leading Her Away. And He Was Pleased And Surprised To

Find That His Thoughts Of Her Were Pure.

 

The Principal Contributors To The _Pilgrim_ Had Been Invited,  And A

Selection Had Been Made From The Fast And Fashionable Gang--Those Who

Could Be Trusted Neither To Become Drunk Or Disorderly. It Had Been

Decided,  But Not Without Misgivings,  To Ask Muchross And Snowdown.

 

The Doors Were Open,  Servants Could Be Seen Passing With Glasses And

Bottles. Frank,  Who Had Finished Dressing,  Called From The

Drawing-Room And Begged Mike To Hasten; For The Housemaid Was Waiting

To Arrange His Room,  For It Had Been Decided That This Room Should

Serve As A Lounge Where Dancers Might Sit Between The Waltzes.

 

"She Can Come In Now," He Shouted. He Folded The Curtains Of His

Strange Bed; He Lighted A Silver Lamp,  Re-Arranged His Palms,  And

Smiled,  Thinking Of The Astonished Questions When He Invited Young

Ladies To Be Seated Among The Numerous Cushions. And Mike Determined

He Would Say That He Considered His Bed-Room Far Too Sacred To Admit

Of Any Of The Base Wants Of Life Being Performed There.

 

It Was Well-Dressed Bohemia,  With Many Markings And Varied With

Contrasting Shades. The Air Was As Sugar About The Doorway With The

Scent Of Gardenias; Young Lords Shrank From The Weather-Stained Cloth

Of Doubtful Journalists,  And A Lady In Long Puce Cashmere Provoked A

Smile. Frank Received His Guests With Laughter And Epigram.

 

The Emancipation Of The Women Is Marked By The Decline Of The

Chaperon,  And It Was Not Clear Under Whose Protection The Young Girls

Had Come. Beneath Double Rows Of Ruche-Rose Feet Passed,  And The Soft

Glow Of Lamps Shaded With Large Leaves Of Pale Glass Bathed The

Women's Flesh In Endless Half Tints; The Reflected Light Of Copper

Shades Flushed The Blonde Hair On Lady Helen's Neck To Auroral

Fervencies.

 

In One Group A Fat Man With White Hair And Faded Blue Eyes Talked To

Mrs. Bentham And Lewis Seymour. A Visit To The Haymarket Theatre

Being Arranged,  He Said--

 

"May I Hope To Be Permitted To Form One Of The Party?"

 

Harding Overheard The Remark. He Said,  "It Is Difficult To Believe,

But I Assure You That That Mr. Senbrook Was One Of The Greatest Don

Juans That Ever Lived."

 

"We Have In This Room Don Juan In Youth,  Middle Age,  And Old

Age--Mike Fletcher,  Lewis Seymour,  And Mr. Senbrook."

 

"Did Seymour,  That Fellow With The Wide Hips,  Ever Have Success With

Women? How Fat He Has Grown!"

 

"Rather; [Footnote: See _A Modern Lover_.] Don't You Know His Story?

He Came Up To London With A Few Pounds. When We Knew Him First He Was

Starving In Lambeth. You Remember,  Thompson,  The Day He Stood Us A

Lunch? He Had Just Taken A Decorative Panel To A Picture-Dealer's,

Chapter 5 Pg 38

For Which He Had Received A Few Pounds,  And He Told Us How He Had Met

A Lady (There's The Lady,  The Woman With The White Hair,  Mrs.

Bentham) In The Picture-Dealer's Shop. She Fell In Love With Him And

Took Him Down To Her Country House To Decorate It. She Sent Him To

Paris To Study,  And It Was Said Employed A Dealer For Years To Buy

His Pictures."

 

"And He Dropped Her For Lady Helen?"

 

"Not Exactly. Lady Helen Dragged Him Away From Her. He Never Seized

Or Dropped Anything."

 

"Then What Explanation Do You Give Of His Success?" Said A Young

Barrister.

 

"His Manner Was Always Gentle And Insinuating. Ladies Found Him

Pretty To Look Upon,  And Very Soothing. Mike Is Just The Same; But Of

Course Seymour Never Had Any Of Mike's Brilliancy Or Enthusiasm."

 

"Do You Know Anything Of The Old Gentleman--Senbrook's His Name?"

 

"I Have Heard That Those Watery Eyes Of His Were Once Of Entrancing

Violet Hue,  And I Believe He Was Wildly Enthusiastic In His Love. His

Life Has Been Closely Connected With Mine."

 

"I Didn't Know You Knew Him."

 

"I Do Not Know Him. Yet He Poisoned My Happiest Years; He Is The

Upas-Tree In Whose Shade I Slept. When I Was In Paris I Loved A Lady;

And I Used To Make Sacrifices For This Lady,  Who Was,  Needless To

Say,  Not Worthy Of Them; But She Had Loved Senbrook In Her Earliest

Youth,  And It Appears When A Woman Has Once Loved Senbrook,  She Can

Love None Other. You Wouldn't Think It,  To Look At Him Now,  But I

Assure You It Is So. France Is Filled With The Women He Once Loved.

The Provincial Towns Are Dotted With Them. I Know Eight--Eight Exist

To My Personal Knowledge. Sometimes A Couple Live Together,  United By

The Indissoluble Fetter Of A Senbrook Betrayal. They Know Their Lives

Are Broken,  And They Are Content That Their Lives Should Be Broken.

They Have Loved Senbrook,  Therefore There Is Nothing To Do But Retire

To France. You May Think I Am Joking,  But I'm Not. It Is Comic,  But

That Is No Reason Why It Shouldn't Be True. And These Ladies Neither

Forget Nor Upbraid; And They Will Attack You Like Tigers If You Dare

Say A Word Against Him. This Creation Of Faith Is The Certain Sign Of

Don Juan! No Matter How Cruelly The Real Don Juan Behaves,  The Women

He Has Deceived Are Ready To Welcome Him. After Years They Meet Him

In All Forgetfulness Of Wrong. Examine History,  And You Will Find

That The Love