Round the Corner

passions do instruct us What

OF A

, that is, hemmed in by a thick-set hedge of prejudice and unsatisfied emotion and convention and childish theory, so that they are for ever in a state of uneasy curiosity about love, always ready to put salt on its

ound faith in them. Though her daughters were grown women she never troubled to discover the state of their minds, but assumed their innocence and purity, and she never referred back to her own state of mind at the same age and the same maiden cond

theatres, and Gertrude sang and Mary played her violin, but nothing happened. It was very annoying. The Clibran-Bell girls did not marry either, but there was no comfort in that. They had such large noses; and they were not Folyats. They had not the charm of high gentility. . . . Neither Gertrude nor Mary was pretty, but they could be amusing and they seemed to attract attention. Minna was decidedly pretty, with a wide delightful grin and a mockin

and rather rebellious at having to resume their household duties or work in the church and Sunday-school. Also, for a time, they would assume a lofty tone with the young men of their acquaintance, and they used to prick at Frederic and tell him he was becoming provincial. Minna used to lash them with her tongue, dealing out the wickedest

ion of his finances. Frederic was always sending in small bills that were too large for his slender earnings. The girls-Mary and Gertrude were still called "the girls"-were always wanting money. Annette in Edinburgh hardly ever wrote without wanting money, and Mrs. Folyat seemed to have no notio

he said. "It's

ound and round in her fingers, and Fran

big sum,

hief and began to whimper, as she a

fault. I'm sure I wish we'd never come to

a gust of e

d, "to marry the girls

th which she refreshed herself-as a girl she had dreamed of a romantic lover-he had come-a parson, [Pg 61]a creature of noble birth-and she had married him. She had borne him a truly biblical number of children and looked for them to follow a similar destiny. She had regarded it as a thing that happened automatically, for she was in mind a child, a

w pointed out, played a considerable part in bringing them to their present quandary. He was loth to sacrifice another house and more income, and nervously proposed that they should raise the required sum by selling some of their valuable china and perhaps a piece or two of Martha's jewellery. She hardly ever wo

he sufferer for the delinquencies of her family, and almost persuaded herself that she was their scapegoat. She went back over the years

. I am a clergyman, and my house should be free of the sordid troub

g

erything, spend everything-the girls will do th

pay our debts and reduce our expenditure. If necess

gir

in honest work, w

l never marry

n I marry are

never been the same since we

teach music. And Annette has had a better

ha

in a situation

! Annette! A

h in public opinion by the general belief in the amplitude of his private means. It could be little short of disaster then to confess to inadequacy. And a governess! Poor Annette! though to be sure when she was a child her

ort his wife's protestat

ght to have. We must let them fight their own way. At present anything is better than the sort of life they are le

g

I to tel

and I'll find a f

iends with them, and not so acutely conscious of their irritating peculiarities. The relation between a father and daughter should be a very beautiful thing, and indeed there were moments when the house in Fern Square was a place

t laughter in his house, and that was better than the grim smile which was all these Northerners would for the most part allow themselves. The days of violent opposition were gone, but the Puritans still l

, a little hunchbacked girl who alternately adored her and bullied her. Annette was very happy. At home she had been so mercilessly teased by Minna that she was glad to get away. The Fenders lived in Burnley, ten miles away, and in summer they moved to a lovely house they had in Westmoreland, high-perched on a hill looking [Pg 64]down on Grasmere and Rydal. She read enormous qua

ot the mother to relax her authority until it was wrested from her-she replied that she was making a tour of the High Churches in our town-with a friend. The answer was found satisfactory, but Minna looked into the facts and found that her elder sister had spent every one of those five Sundays in

d Gertrude sitting far up near the steps of the nave gazing in rapt and religious devotion at the young acolyte as with almost theatrical solemnity he performed his rites. If he was conscious of her he gave no sign. With an almost yearning intensity he crept noiselessly about ministering to the priest. Gertrude's great moment came after the sermon

our help i

pe for yea

ter from the

our eter

erything that he did seemed to be immensely important and pregnant with meaning. When he stooped and the churchwardens and sidesmen laid their little bags in the great brass plate, he did it with the air of one accepting a worthles

oor figure, with high shoulders and a very short waist. Now her shoulders were higher than ever, and she was leaning forward and her e

h a wet handkerchief over her head and a volume of Tennyson on her knees when t

o to, my dear?"

"They have the most lovely altar-cloth I ev

as pa?" as

g

," said Francis wi

he church door, and then with some anxiety Mrs. Folyat

ng to tell t

uth full and could

lectively, were very trivial, but he knew from experience that any one of them taken singly, robb

m come back from India with a gigantic fortune?" Minna was rushing wildly ahead on all

have heard from yo

!" sai

rude, snatched fro

ich?" as

. He talks of

" This came f

m Durban in S

rederic a partnership, and me a husband-catch me marrying a

tly and looked dagg

s coming home, as though he

n can hardly remembe

putting her into a bassinette and lettin

g

is we

ther some water-

?" asked

od. But I don't know anyt

old Lawrie. He'll k

murmured

'you kn

. N

Lawrie, and she had discovered that the name of the young aco

deric, "does Serg

was forwarded fr

ought to let him kn

that. He gav

l fell to and rummaged their memories for recollections of Ser

whether he'd

or like old Nicholas F

emnly, "if he is married to her she will be

exion which is more permissible in the

photographer, and B. J. Strutt, the manager of the old theatre, where, as a young man, Henry Irving had been a member of the stock company. They [Pg 68]were smoking and drinking and yarning. They had vast stores of anecdotes of the great Bohemians in London. Beecroft had twice had pictures

rederic was shown in by the grubby boy whom he found at the door reading a penny "blood," and he stoo

rie. . .

E

acted. You asked me to-to

What'll you have? I can't pay f

ittle group of old men were

's B. J. Strutt. Get him to give

r enthusiasm, which came and went and was altogether beyond his control. He drank a little whiskey and he felt that he was in the company of very wonderful beings. They talked of things and men that were glorious dreams to him, and they spoke of them wit

listening bald head and [Pg 69]round spectacles that made him look like a benevolen

Go

good?" ras

Damn

felt ve

foreground and blue in the distance. And I like that one with the nigg

The man can't draw, but he can feel colour

rawings and gave grunts of satisfaction. (They had been very bo

d Beecroft. "This

. He's com

. Do you know

have been about twenty men of genius-real ge

e'll give a show. You can ram him d

ie.-He was always discovering poets and seeing them go to r

aven't had anything like this for years, a

ou said. It's rather funny. I haven't seen him sinc

" repeated Beecroft

g

her's been rector of St. Paul's,

hink they've had a hand in anything produced in the plac

offered to sing. Strutt played his accompaniments, and they kept him at it for a

bring his brother, the genius, as soon as he arrived. He forgot the drawings altogether, and old Lawr