The Speculators. A comedy

Front matter

A COMEDY BY JOHN FRANCIS BREWER METHUEN & CO. 36 ESSEX STREET, W.C. LONDON i897 CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. THE THREE YOUNG MEN ... I II. IN WHICH THE BEAUTIFUL MISS BARROW MAKES THE FIRST MOVE . . .5 III. THE WIDOWS' POLICY . . . .17 IV. FLORRY BARROW AND GEORGE COLBORNE . 25 V. FLORRY'S TRIUMPH . . . -38 VI. AT "HINTON" . . . . -49 VII. FRANK BARROW FALLS IN LOVE . . 58 VIII. FLORRY CALLS UPON HER BROTHER . 74 IX. THE PHILOSOPHER IN A RELIGIOUS MOOD . 84 X. THE PHILOSOPHER AND THE "DEMON" . 92 XI. THE TRANSCENDENTALIST AS LOVER I03 XII. LORD TREMAYNE . . . . Il8 XIII. MISS COLBORNE ABANDONS PHILOSOPHY . 1 27 XIV. GEORGE COLBORNE AND MERCY — FOODGE'S NEWS . . . . . .132 XV. THE EARTH MAIDEN .... 143 XVI. THE PHILOSOPHER ON MARRIAGE . .154 XVII. THE EARTH MAIDEN AND THE PHILOSOPHER — THE ATTEMPT TO EXORCISE THE "DEMON" 1 CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE XVIII.

MERCY'S FRENZY . . . . l8.3 XIX. NEWS FOR GEORGE . . . . 1 88 XX. IN WHICH LORD TREMAYNE PROPOSES TO FLORRY, AND GEORGE PUBLICLY RENOUNCES PAGANISM . . . . 195 XXI. THE DISTRESS OF FRANK BARROW AND OF MERCY COLBORNE .... 204 XXII. THE RETURN OF MERCY — HUMANITY OF FLORRY AND OF LADY COLBORNE . . 210 XXIII. THE SPIRITUAL SIGNIFICANCE OF AN ATTACK OF GOUT ..... 217 XXIV. THE PHILOSOPHER AS ENGLISH GENTLEMAN — HIS REPULSE .... 227 XXV. THE STORM BREWING .... 243 XXVI. THE EARTH MAIDEN AT BAY . . . 253 XXVII. A SURPRISE — FLORRY BREAKS DOWN . 259 XXVIII. AN ARGUMENTUM AD HOMINEM — ANOTHER REVELATION OF THE GENIUS OF THE EARTH MAIDEN ..... 268 XXIX. FRANK'S TRIUMPH . . . .285 XXX. FOUR YEARS AFTER .... A 1 THE SPECULATORS

Chapter I The Three Young Men Some

years ago Mr Pryson, of the society journal " At Home," set to work gathering in formation about Lord Tremayne, George Colborne, and Frank Barrow, the writers of a series of articles dealing with the origin of the moral sense, then appearing in the "Modern Spirit," a Review. Each of the controversialists was under thirty, un married, and possessed of considerable dialectical skill. Lord Tremayne struck the journalist as a weak man. He allowed his estates to be mismanaged, he neglected his social duties, and though the sight of poverty and misfortune awoke his com passion, he did nothing to relieve the sufferers. His friends lauded his humanitarian sentiments and spoke of his poetical nature, but like many weak men he was a sentimentalist, and like many sentimentalists he was selfish. George Colborne was a man of very striking appearance.

He was six feet in height, broad in the shoulder, narrow in the loins, and he carried himself like a soldier. His eyes sparkled like a woman's and were furnished on both lids with thick, curved lashes ; though dark, he had a high complexion, and his lips were thin but very red. He gave Mr Pryson the following information about himself : — " My ideal is the Perfect Man, and I am trying to realise it in my own person. But, alas, the world is not prepared for the advent of the Perfect Man ! The Barbarians, the Philis tines, the Rabble do not appreciate my efforts to teach them by example : they do not recognise me, they do not follow me ; I encounter opposi tion and neglect. But I am content if I realise my ideal for the benefit of a few choice spirits, a small number of enlightened and completely emancipated persons.

I am content if I realise it for the benefit of myself alone." Such was Colborne's own account of himself. His friend, Lord Tremayne, said of him : " He is much interested in the great problem of Life, and never, if he can help it, makes a false step in his approach to intimacy with a woman, however lowly she might be. He pities with an exceeding great pity the fettered woman ; he bids her close her ears against the counsels of a wicked and hypocritical world, and conducts her out of the city of corruption into the free country — to shy recesses, to shady retreats." " He is a man remarkably free from prejudices," said another of his friends. " He has no wish to quarrel with those who disagree with him — with Christians, for example — they supply material for his laughter. But not every woman submits herself to his interpretation, and not every man steps aside to make room for his development ; he has, therefore, become a satirist, and pours out his ridicule against the folly and hypocrisy of the age."

" He is apt at ministering to a mind diseased," said the gay bachelor Mr Justice Lepel, " and is a specialist in the mental disorders that afflict rich men and lovely women." " He is a fantastic ass ! " said Mr Pryson. Young Barrow was a man of quite a different stamp. Though only four-and-twenty, he had already won a considerable reputation as a philosophical essayist. He was well read in the works of the German speculators, had trans lated and edited, with copious notes, Kant's " Critique of Practical Reason," and was at present engaged upon a work dealing with the metaphysical basis of the moral law. He was a very strange young man. Since the death of his father, which occurred when he was sixteen years old, till a few months before this history begins, he had lived alone, engaged in the study of metaphysics and in the training of his muscles.

He had the manners of an awkward boy ; with men he was aggressive and argumentative, and the sight of a woman made him pugnacious, not with her, but with such members of his own sex as chanced to be present. His conversation was either pedantic or boyish, more frequently the latter ; he was always in earnest ; wit and humour were beyond his comprehension. For all his metaphysical knowledge, he was, at the age of twenty-four, a primitive man, untamed, un civilized, quite ignorant of the ways of society. If, however, he was untamed, he was unspoilt, and he had a fine nature. When Mr Pryson made his acquaintance, a few months before this history begins, and when his sisters Agnes and Florry threw up their situations as companions and joined his household, he was beginning to open his eyes upon the outward world and to wonder. And of all the phenomena that his recently awakened senses encountered, the beauty of women stirred in him the greatest emotion.

Chapter II In Which The Beautiful Miss Barrow Makes The First Move

FRANK BARROW made between three and four hundred a year, and supported his sisters Agnes and Florry, and his uncle, a very old man in his second childhood. The brother and sisters lived at No. I Ridley's Avenue, a straight road, bare of trees, in a western suburb of London, and their uncle in a cottage situated in the most beautiful part of Surrey. The house in Ridley's Avenue was double fronted and irregular in plan ; it contained six very small rooms and one large one, which served as a library as well as a drawing-room. This apartment was well furnished and kept in good order. The wall opposite to the window was completely hidden by a book-case made up of pieces of old oak and filled with volumes, huge tomes occupying the lower shelves, smaller books the higher ones. The wall at right angles to this and opposite the door was hung with pieces of valuable old tapestry, much worn but beautiful in colour ; and between these bits of tapestry were hung sketches of the monuments to two old fight ing Barrows, one in the Perpendicular style, the other in the Jacobean style, from the church in North Cleyton, Norfolk.

The table in the middle of the room, the chairs, and the bureau which stood near the window were of dark old oak, and the floor was covered with a Turkey carpet. One evening in early spring Frank Barrow was pacing this apartment with his hands behind him and his head bent. He was about five feet ten in height, very wide across the shoulders and hips, bow-legged, and with enormous hands and feet. His figure, though not elegant, gave the impression of great strength. His head was square, and he had a high forehead and large features ; deep-set blue eyes, heavy brows, a prominent nose, a long upper lip and a massive chin. His mouth ruined his face. It was a very ugly feature, much too large and with shapeless lips ; as a rule he kept it closed tight, and then it gave a grim look to his face. Florry said that at fifty he would be hand some : at present he looked what he was, a very formidable young man.

There was complete silence in the dim apartment, but Frank occasionally halted and listened and looked about him with an anxious eye ; and this, together with the contraction of his brows, seemed to testify to some unusual commotion in his mind. By-and-by he took from his bureau the current number of the " Modern Spirit," a monthly Review, and read through an article deal ing with the moral sense, which bore the signature " Tremayne." He then put away the Review, placed some sheets of foolscap upon his desk, and rising from his seat began to talk to himself. At first his utterances were rapid and unintelligible, but after a short pause he started afresh, and, without halting in his walk or hesitating for a word, delivered himself of a formal discourse upon the origin of the moral sense. When this had come to an end he halted and looked straight in front of him, as though he expected someone to appear ; and then a new voice was to be heard, more piercing than his and somewhat sarcastic in tone, and it at once began to call in question every statement that he had made.

The room would have been searched in vain for a second person, the other party to the dialogue ; but Frank's face betokened that he actually saw a being, and that he disliked it excessively. Nay, he occasionally lost his temper, and anon seemed sad, and again very anxious while the invisible dialectician proceeded to demolish the fine fabric of reasoning which he had reared with so much care. It would be difficult to exaggerate the humorous effect of this dramatic, dynamic dia logue. The sound of it alone was calculated to provoke laughter. For though unseen, the owner of the high-pitched voice revealed a character, and not a pleasant character. How, indeed, could his have been a pleasant character when he employed his keen and subtle intellect against every theory that brought the order of things into harmony with the moral sense of man ?

For the young philosopher would have accepted enthusiastically any explanation of the Universe that could reduce the detestable spirit to silence. Florry had given a name to this offspring of her brother's brain, this personification of the destructively-critical spirit within him. She had named him (not very hap pily) Philistine, and as such he was known to Agnes, and to Jane Badger, the maid, the other inmates of No. I Ridley's Avenue. When the disputation between himself and Philistine had come to a conclusion, or rather to an end, Barrow sat at his desk and wrote his article for the next issue of the " Modern Spirit." It dealt with the origin of the moral sense, and took the form of a rejoinder to a con tribution on the same subject by Lord Tremayne. A few minutes later his sisters Agnes and Florry entered the room.

The former was a tall, plain, uninteresting-looking woman of thirty ; the latter an exceedingly pretty dark girl of eighteen. Rogue was the word that Florry's appearance suggested. Her eyes were large and lustrous, and seemed to convey a request that one should peer into their depths ; her cheeks plump, with dimples in them ; her nose turned up at the end, and her small mouth had a pouting upper lip. She had a dazzlingly white skin, a full figure, and beautiful arms and hands. She looked ripe for mischief, but " alas ! " as she so frequently said to Mr Pryson, " I have nobody's happiness to wreck — for you don't count. Isn't it a horrible world ? Pity the sister of a philosopher ! " Mr Pryson had done his best to console her by offering her his hand, but she had rejected it, not scornfully, but with laughter.

" I like you," said she. " You are the only young man I know, and then you're useful. You polish up my stories for me, run errands, and tell me about the people you meet." Florry had brains as well as beauty ; in the quality of lady's companion she had seen much of life ; and when Mr Pryson had put her stories into intelligible English he had no difficulty in placing them for her. In the course of time, indeed, she might have won success as a novelist, but that was not her ambition. On entering the room she glanced at her brother, who was engaged in writing, and rolling up her handkerchief threw it at him. "Eh? What?" said he looking up. "Oh, you ! Go away please." Silence followed, and then the door was opened, and the ill-favoured maid Jane Badger entered, and approaching Florry, touched her on the shoulder.

" Miss, he's come," said she. " Him ! " " Oh, really, this is too dreadful," said Florry. " Agnes, you shall give her notice. If you don't " What's the matter ? " asked Frank, " Will you give this horrible girl notice ? " cried Florry. " Which girl ? You mean Jane ? Speak to Agnes about it." " Show Mr Pryson in," said Miss Barrow quietly, and the next minute the journalist appeared. After the introductory salutes, Mr Pryson turned to Florry and said, " Of course you don't really intend to write to Lady Colborne ? " " I do." " But you don't know her ; neither you nor Miss Barrow nor Frank have ever seen her. How do you know that she is in want of a companion ? " " I don't know that she's in want of a companion," said Florry, "but I shall write to her offering my services. We have a claim upon her."

" Your father was her second cousin, wasn't he ? " " Yes, and if it hadn't been for father her husband might never have become a True and Representative Briton. Colborne hadn't a penny in the world when father lent him two hundred pounds." " But you told me that the money has been repaid." " Yes, a few months ago, on Sir Edward's death, twenty-five years after it was lent. We didn't apply for it. Lady Colborne sent Frank the money through a lawyer. Very likely she knew nothing about the transaction till she examined the papers of the True and Repre sentative Briton." " Did your father apply for the money ? " asked the journalist. " He wrote one letter," said Agnes, " but it was not answered." " And the Barrow pride prevented his taking any further steps in the matter," added Florry with a sneer.

" And no doubt the Colborne pride prevented Sir Edward from repaying the loan," said Mr Pryson with a smile. " And yet you described him in your inter view as a True and Representative Briton," said Florry. " He acted up to the maxim : It is unnecessary for the man who has become rich to remain dishonest." " Was he truly and representatively British in other ways ? " asked Florry. " Oh, dear me, yes. He took a cold bath in the morning, ate oatmeal for breakfast, and was never ill. He was healthy-minded, and despised sentiment ; he was proud of his ignorance of art and literature ; he loved cricket and sport ; he was brutal to his wife, and tender to his horse." " You are pleased to be sarcastic, Mr Pryson. And now about Lady Colborne, the Great Un known, who is to conduct me out of the land of the Barrows into Colbomia or the land of the Celestial Colbornes ?

" " She's handsome and pompous," replied Mr Pryson. " Of course you know that the daughter has got the greater part of the money." " Oh yes," said Florry. " Frank is to marry her, as I tell him over and over again." " I don't think that the Perfect Man has more than two thousand a year, and I expect that he finds the development of his personality a very ex pensive process. Now listen to me, Florry " " Miss Barrow, please." " This George Colborne is — is- "Very susceptible to female beauty," said Florry. " George is — is — well, not a good man." " Oh, Mr Pryson, how weak ! Not a good man ! And pray what chance has a poor beauty of marrying a good rich man ? A good rich man always marries for money. I like George from your description of him, and I shall be content with two thousand a year."

Mr Pryson glanced at Agnes, who had fallen asleep, then at young Barrow, who was absorbed in his writing, and then turning to Florry began, " My darling ! My " " Agnes ! " cried Florry, shaking her sister ; and the next moment, " Go on, Mr Pryson," said she. " Tell me more about George Colborne." " The ought of that which has never happened," murmured Frank, getting up from his seat and walking up and down the room, " the categorical imperative — ah, so glad to see you, Pryson. You'll find the girls in the next room. A demand is made upon me. Can I accomplish it ? Without freedom no ought is conceivable. — Eh ? What do you want ? Cigars and whisky in the cupboard there. — It is in my moral nature that I am really free. While I am a sensuous being in time " " Frank, Frank, for heaven's sake stop !

" cried Florry, whereupon he halted and looked at her. An affectionate smile overspread his face, and drawing near her he put his arm round her waist and glanced encouragingly at Mr Pryson. " Frank, you're a fool ! " she cried angrily. " Eh ? Eh ? " said he. " I beg your pardon ; I'm so sorry. I don't understand ! Fact is I'm busy ! Pray excuse me." And he fled from the room. An embarrassing silence followed till Agnes said, " I'll send my brother down to smoke with you, Mr Pryson. Good night. Come, Florry." With that she and her sister took their departure. A few minutes later Frank reappeared and said to his guest, " I'm always telling myself I must be careful, but I'm always making mistakes. I cannot understand women. On your advice I went to that dance last week, and was introduced to a handsome, intelligent-looking girl — one of those girls whom you take to even before you hear them speak.

Well, I discussed an ethical question with her, and I thought she followed me and was interested ; but a short while after I overheard her say to her mother that I was an improper person who should not be admitted into the society of gentlefolk. As I was quitting the place I stumbled over her, or rather over her part ner, who had her in his arms and was kissing her." " I suppose you were shocked." Barrow thought awhile. "No," said he critically. " My feeling was one of jealousy. I had a singular impulse to hit out at the man. I have very good ears, and I heard him mutter ' clumsy fool ! ' Yes, decidedly, I should have liked to hammer that man." " And kiss the woman ? " " No, no, of course not. Ah, by-the-by though, she may have misunderstood my discourse. I'm a better man than he ! " added Frank suddenly and fiercely.

" By better do you mean more moral ? " " No, I mean that I could have thrashed him, and I wish to heaven I had ! " " You have heard of Florry's plot ? " asked the journalist after a pause. "Yes," said Frank with a smile. " We are to enter Colbornia or the land of the Celestial Col bornes. But as I tell her, we shall first have to disencumber ourselves of the Barrow rind. She is to marry Lady Colborne's nephew George, and I the daughter Mercy. By-the-by I should like to hammer that fellow George Colborne. You are reading my controversy with Tremayne? Well, the smart young blackguard steps in between us, salutes us, patronises us, and sums up in both our favours, and the public verdict is ' Mr Colborne is the man who makes philosophy interesting.' Re assuring to thoughtful men, isn't it ? Philosophy in the market-place !

This a critical age ! Pooh ! Humbug! Nowadays men unread in the alphabet of metaphysics win reputation as great thinkers. Good night, Pryson. Pardon my telling you to go. I have another article to write to-night." B 17

Chapter III The Widows' Policy The

late Sir Edward Colborne, whom Mr Pryson had ironically described as a True and Representative Briton, was a man of great energy and determination. He had started his career in a wool-merchant's office, and had died the chairman of an important railway company, leaving two hundred and fifty thousand pounds. His life was held up as an example to the British youth. The story goes, that as a young man he had been struck by reading the account of a wealthy man receiving the honour of knighthood, and that there and then he had determined to become a wealthy man and a knight. He might, of course, have registered a determination to become a Bishop or a Cabinet Minister, but he did not. " The man who fails in life has himself to blame for it," was a favourite maxim of his, and " Work ! Wait ! Win !

" was his motto. He attributed his success to his pluck and per severance, but he made no secret of his weak nesses. He admitted that to see the " century " hoisted in the cricket field made him swell with emotion, that he occasionally witnessed a boxing match, that once upon a time he had thrashed a butcher boy and subsequently presented him with a bat and stumps, that he drank a glass of champagne after twelve hours' work, in spite of his speeches in behalf of Temperance, that he was a virile man himself, in spite of his horror of impurity. Sir Edward had left a hundred and fifty thousand pounds to his daughter Mercy, who had just come of age ; no wonder, then, that Lady Colborne and her bosom friend Lady Algernon Clinker were alarmed on hearing the girl declare that she was not as other girls, that she despised the world, and that she had dedicated her life to the search for Truth.

The widows' suspicions (Lady Algernon was also a widow ; very rich, vulgar, shrewd and truthful except when describing her supernatural experiences) flew at George, whom they admired but distrusted. Lady Colborne feared that he was a poet, that the muse had led him astray ; Lady Algernon, that he was addicted to old men's vices, and was a philosopher. George's attitude towards both women was the same ; each he pitied and each he tolerated : he pitied them because they were steeped in prejudice, he tolerated them because they were human. Two or three days after Mr Pryson's interview with the Barrows, Lady Algernon called at No. 5 Suffolk Street, Park Lane, and had tea with her friend Lady Colborne. After some introductory chatter their conversation turned to the subject of George. " My dear Louisa, you must not forget that he has talents," said Lady Algernon with a mis chievous smile.

" Of course he has talents," said Lady Colborne, " but how about his character ? " " Young men don't have any character, or ought not to have any," returned her ladyship. " If a young man has a character, he's a prig. It's a young man's business to fall in love, and that doesn't require much character." "Is George a lover ? " asked Lady Colborne. Lady Algernon replied that he was decidedly a lover, and when asked whom he loved, made a semi-circular sweep with her arm, to suggest, per haps, that his love wandered over a considerable area. " I shouldn't pry into the matter if I were you," she went on. " And then you know he's very poetical — very, very poetical." Lady Colborne looked grave. " Carrie, you're mistaken," said she. " He's a philosopher." It was now Lady Algernon's turn to look grave.

" I never listen to scandal," said she. " Scandal ! " cried the other. " Scandal ! Why, my dear Carrie, the philosophers are a sort of Protestant saints. No, not quite that — a sort of atheistical saints. No, not quite that either." " I refuse to believe that George is a philosopher," said Lady Algernon ; " and I know that he's a poet, for I've heard him talk about buds bursting into flower, and gambolling lambkins, and pairing birds, and shady arbours, and seques tered nooks, and the blush of sunset, and the moonshine. Any news from Hinton ? By-the-by, George hasn't followed her there, has he ? " " No ; but I expect they correspond. We can't prevent that, can we ? " " I'm afraid not. But we must try to prevent their being alone together. A man and a woman should not be allowed to seek truth in each other's company till the marriage settlements are made."

Lady Colborne looked annoyed. " Oh, Carrie, Carrie, Mercy's an impossible girl ! " she cried. " I cannot understand a word she says." " Nor can I. Since she has taken to Hegel she has been inarticulate. Is she intellectual ? " " Intellectual ! Of course not," cried Lady Colborne. " She's vain, that's all, and George flatters her. She wants to be thought deep — all girls do nowadays. Carrie, Carrie, what are we to do?" " Well, I've given a good deal of thought to the matter," replied her ladyship, " and I've consulted with my friend Mr Justice Lepel, without mention ing names, of course. I showed him the book on Hegel's philosophy that Mercy's always reading, and asked him what it all ended in. ' A profound belief in nothing,' said he, ' and a profound belief in its worth. The worship of the Pure Nothing.' I asked him what recommendation there was in the Pure, and he said something about the re conciliation of opposites, which was beyond me.

Well, I shall be sarcastic at the expense of the Pure Nothing. That's my policy." The conspirators smiled, and Lady Algernon went on : "Asa truth-seeker, Mercy is, of course, deeply interested in morals. You must pardon me, Louisa. The occasion demands that I shall speak plainly. Of course, when we were girls, such a subject would have been regarded as unfit for discussion. And, mind you, I don't pretend for a minute that women should discuss morals, or think about them. Whether they should treat them as altogether non-existent I don't pretend to say. They are certainly dan gerous. Well, I read in a journal the phrases, ' Colborne's System of Morals,' ' Tremayne's Morality,' ' Barrow's System of Morals ' ; and it appears that these young men believe either that morals have a metaphysical basis (whatever that means) or that they have no such basis.

Be that as it may, George's morality seems to me to be indistinguishable from Christian immorality. So that what you've got to do is to pretend to side with George against Mercy. Thus : ' But we mustn't condemn him, Mercy. We must remember that he has a morality, and though it is indistinguishable from Christian immorality, still he practices it and is therefore consistent.' Then you might hint at things, and then ask her to make allowances for differences of opinion. That's your policy." A pause ensued, during which Lady Colborne's twitching features betrayed her irritation. " Carrie," said she at length, " what is the matter with my daughter ? " " I scarcely like to say," replied her ladyship. " You must remember that I have taken you to task over and over again about Mercy. She ought to have been presented three years ago.

She is now of age and can do pretty much as she likes. Girls should be married before they come of age." Lady Colborne knitted her brows. " Very well, then, Louisa, I will tell you what I think about Mercy. I think, then, that she has amorous instincts." Consternation was depicted on Lady Colborne's face. " Mr Justice Lepel met her at my house," Lady Algernon continued, " and asked me whether she had dedicated herself to Truth, to Religion, to Woman, or to the manufacture of impossible wisdom. ' Why ? ' I asked. ' Because she has a capacity for loving,' he replied ; ' and such a woman begins by hiding her instincts from others and ends by hiding them from herself. Necessary self - repression becomes voluntary self-sacrifice. Till she's loved, she may not love, and meanwhile she will not love.' " There followed a pause till Lady Colborne said, " You remember my telling you that Edward had borrowed two hundred pounds of a cousin of mine and forgotten to repay it ?