What we are coming to ... Second edition

Front matter

TIbe pro&uce of UoDas BY HENRY MAURICE HARDINGE " Ofthe making of Books there is no end. — Proverbs. SECOND EDITION LONDON DIGBY, LONG & CO., PUBLISHERS 18 BOUVERIE STREET, FLEET STREET, E.C. PROEM. Over the fair world there moved the breath of morning, wandering here and there, up and down, lazily waft ing about sweet scents from one continent to another, gently skimming the blue sea, blue with the reflection of the sky ; over it moved the wind, humming faintly the song of the bees, moving in its course flights of gulls, helping along the lazy ships, too heavy and lazy to go very quick. The sea replied to the caresses of the fresh morning breeze by a low murmur; there was just that gentle swell and soft sound of the waves, more like the awakening stretches and sighs of a sleepy child than the motion of the sea.

"Wake up, lazy sea," cried the breeze; "wake up aud look about you. How bright the sun — and the sky, look how blue — and the earth — " " Oh, the earth's all right, but I am occupied with other things just now." " I want to talk to you, or you shall talk to me, or read me some poetry." " I'm too lazy to talk, and too tired." And the breeze sighed itself away and dissolved, passing out into a whisper, and the sea murmured something; it was not quite awake, but it was soft and sleepily monotonous A The sun was the only thing that seemed to have any life in it ; it was quite alive, and poured out its warmth over the basking earth, and sent its floods of beams over the sea, that seemed to positively wink with the glare of the sun. The earth, too, was rather dazzled, and so hot that the breeze was quite killed by the heat.

It had got into a delicious garden of lilies and roses, a sort of garden to dream of, but the sun brought out the scent of the flowers so strong that the poor breeze was quite exhausted, and fainted among the branches of a grove of cedars. The world looked like wbat it might do if it was left to itself and depopulated of human beings. It was positively basking, basking in the warmth, aud thanking Heaven most sincerely for the bright weather. The earth was typical of the human race, of what the human race might be if only it was let alone a little more, and allowed to go on its way and bask in Heaven's sun of kindly feeling and common sense. The trees were spreading their broad arms to the light. The flowers opened their eyes and raised their heads, congratulating each other on their wakening up safe and sound on the same stalks on which they went to bed.

Chapter I

It was just half-past twelve, and the Park was crowded, at least, it would have been, only there was next to no one there, for the excellent reason that it was raining hard, and the devotees of fashion were only represented by a few dilapidated persons grouped together under the trees, fondly imagining they were keeping themselves dry, and that it would soon clear, but in their inmost souls conscious of a damp trickle down their back, and a convincing sense that it was not likely to stop. Still, it was June, and consequently the London season, and being both, it was naturally wet. But in spite of the rain, one tall, rather smart-looking young man was standing dripping under a tree. Basil Robinson was there be cause it was the thing, and he had no umbrella as it was not the thing. He was a young man who would willingly give his soul for a turn in the Row with a duchess, provided only all his friends were there to see, and would willingly starve a fortnight if he might eat an ice with a countess at the end.

He was rather new to town as yet, and so he was not aware that it was not absolutely imperative to be seen without an umbrella in the rain. As it was, he was there with his buttonhole and his cane, his smart clothes and on the lookout for a duchess. However, no duchess came, and time went on, and Basil was prompted by his better angel, that began to crave for food, as to the ad visability of returning home for lunch. Just as he had finally resolved to give up peerage hunting for that day, he was confronted by the last person he wished to see, that was, of course, a relation — for whenever anyone meets " the last person they wish to see " you may take it for granted they are nearly related. " Basil, what are you doing there 1 Rain indeed ! Oh, you're effete like all the men are now. Really you men of the moment are a disgrace.

Now, I should not be a bit surprised to hear you only rose at 11.30 to day. Eh? " Basil shivered. What had he done to deserve this 1 Here was his cousin Ichtheosaura — one of those people he most detested, and who he would drop in a moment, only she was considered smart — smart because she was thoroughly outre, and considered so because she told everyone that everybody else said so, which, of course, made everyone say so too, in order that they might not be considered not to know what was what. Ichtheosaura was tall and fair, and strikingly dressed. She wore a large black hat, with blue and green roses with yellow leaves, and her dress was a tweed fawn, with bright blue and yellow check ; she wore tan gloves and tan-coloured suede shoes, in spite of the rain, in order that people might notice them, and her also ; that her mother, a fussy non entity, would talk about dear Saura's recklessness in going out in those ridiculous little shoes that had to be sent to America to be cleaned.

Ichtheosaura's shoes all came from America, and all her gloves from France, her fans from Spain, and her tea from Russia, while her coffee was made in Paris, and sent over all ready prepared. "Come on, Basil," she said, "I'm to lunch with the Marmadikes. You may as well lunch with me there. By the way, how's your mother?" She never spoke of Aunt Blanche (she thought it affected) unless she was obliged ; it was your mother or father. " No,' she weut on, " we won't luuch there. Stop that 'bus and let's go to the club." Basil did as he was told ; his cousin's strong will com pelled him; and shivering, and devoutly hoping no one saw, he hailed a 'bus, actually stopped one just as it was leaving Hyde Park Corner. Basil was, as his cousin said, " a man of the moment." He was tall and smart-looking, by which I mean his hair was cut by the hairdresscr at Newgate ; his tie was black aud faultless, his buttonhole had been measured by com passes to get the right degree of roundness, bis trousers were the right shade and shape, his coat was 1830 to a fault.

I never heard that he did anything ; but then, he was so smart, and it is only women nowadays who can do things and be smart as well. I know he couldn't speak any language but his own ; he knew nothing of music, or any question of the day ; he never read the paper, except just the fashion able news ; but still he was, or tried to be, so smart. And here was this immaculate young man actually compelled to stop a 'bus, opposite Apsley House. However, once stopped, he jumped iuside, from which shelter his cousin speedily dragged him, compelling him to mount on to the outside by her ; thus he had to ride down Piccadilly. "You shall come on to the meeting with me," said Saura, " and sit by me on the platform. I have to speak, you know ; " she nodded in a friendly way to a passer-by she knew, and offered Basil her case.

He chose a small cigarette, while she proceeded to light up a cigar of her owu brand, or what she declared to be such, and sent over from South America specially for her. " I don't know what I shall say exactly, but I've got to take the chair. Heaven knows where to ! It's the AVomen's Home Rule, anti- Press Scheme and Emancipation, you know. Lord Hertford is to speak, and all sorts of men are coming to second their wives; Lady Woolwich is to speak as well, and perhaps Lady Henrietta Worcestershire." By this time they had arrived at the top of St. James' Street, and left the 'bus. Basil's club was near, and they both went iu for lunch. Basil himself liked his cousin in a way, but she was so much cleverer than himself, and took the shine out of him so completely, that it was not always unalloyed bliss to be in her company.

He felt small, and she always treated him so much like a dog. Then, though he was tall, she was taller, and he didn't like that either ; still, when she wished anything, he had to do it, as most people found they had, so he was not much surprised to find himself at the meeting of Women's Home Rule Scheme later on in the afternoon. Of course they arrived frightfully late, and Lady Henrietta Worcestershire had had to take the chair for Saura, and did not particularly seem to care about relinquishing it; but as Saura marched up, careless of Lady Woolwich's speech, and stood opposite the chair, poor Lady Henrietta had nothing else to do but to retire gracefully. " I'm awfully sorry," said Ichtheosaura the moment Lady Woolwich had done, " to be so late, but I really could not help it, and, of course, you did quite right not to wait.

You all know wbat we've come to talk about, and, of course, you all want to speak, but I'm afraid you can't. When you think that this meeting is got up by women, with a woman, I might say two women, in the chair, and several women in the other chairs, I think you'll agree with me that it's time we came more to the front and were not kept in the back ground, as we women have been ever siuce the days of Boadicea and Lucretia Borgia ! " (Immense cheers at these long names.) " Woman, as we all know, was made to have the best of man" — (renewed cheers) — " but she doesn't often get the best of them when she marries. Man, we all know," she went on gracefully, ignoring all the men who sat on the platform smiling blandly, "man, we all know, is nothing more than a tyrant and usurper ; that can be easily shown.

Were not Nero, Vespasian, Caligula, and heaps of all others, all tyrants?" (Vociferous cheers from an old woman in the back row.) " Very well then, how long is this to last ? Not long. We are up in arms, and we intend to show what we can do." Thunders of applause breaking out at this point, Saura wisely sat down iu case she should be asked what they really did mean to do. Other speakers followed, all with the same stories of what they hadn't done. A few men spoke, looking foolish, and then the meeting closed with a vote of thanks to the chair, but the effect was rather spoilt owing to Saura having got tired of the proceedings and having left. One ardent young man who had sat hot and uncomfortable on the platform rose at once and followed her out. "How well you do speak, Miss Adam," he said, as he hurried down the stairs.

" It all seems so clear and so real when you explain it, and one can see at once what it is you have not done ; but do you really believe it all, and do you really intend to carry out all you propose ? " " I don't know. I do hope to see reforms carried out in every part of the universe," said Saura, as she stood at the top of the steps leading on to the street. " I should like to reform everything." "Except yourself, of course," cooed Lord Summers. " My dear boy, I am reformed, or deformed, according to Basil here." " Oh, can he suggest such a thing ? " " Well, you see he's not iu love with me as you are, and then again, I think he's right, for everyone says I'm thoroughly formed, so I suppose I must be de-formed amongst the other formeds." "Oh, I don't know about that, you know, only when you talk I really think we ought to be done away with, and that there is really no use for us peers, aud that we are only an obstruction.

You see, nowadays a thing must be useful, or at least people must be made to think so." " Quite so, dear boy, and so, as it's raining, suppose we jump into your brougham. Good-bye, Basil; you're coming on to mamma's to-night, aren't you ? " Off she went in her airy way, leaving Basil on the step.

Chapter II

It was a blissful quart d'heure for young Summers, alone with Saura in his brougham. How he wished the way was longer, the street more crowded, so that they should not get along too fast. He was desperately in love with her, and had been for the last year, ever since he met her in Fitzgiggle's box, at a Covent Garden Fancy Dress Ball, where she sat the observed of all observers in the character of Sapphira, Fitzgiggle having gone as Lazarus. He was a nice boy, a really nice boy, tall, and a thorough sportsman. He was twenty-five, only two years older than she, good-looking, with an enormous income derived from his mother, who had been the heiress of three breweries, the Summers themselves having been notoriously bankrupt for years. Now that was changed, M'Bloughlochlie Castle in Scotland, Pwlzmghmnd in Wales, an Bamznalawrie in Ireland, to say nothing of Summers House, London, had been all done up from top to bottom.

The income for a year from one brewery having gone to do up each in turn, consequently Summers himself, the possessor of all these famous places, and the breweries, was about the greatest catch of the day, and there he was " at the feet of Saura," to the indignation of Lady London, who had long marked him for her own. Saura was perfectly aware of his devotion to her, and talked about it openly. Summers had never proposed. She said, " I don't think he ever will ; I shall have to do that, only I've never had an opportunity." Of course he was not her only victim ; there were plenty of others. There was a South American millionaire, who ran him close although so different. Don Jose was dark, rather like an ideal Torea dor ; indeed, one always expected when the door was opened and his name announced, to hear him begin the famous song, as Saura said she was quite willing to be his Carmen.

Then he was as rich as Summers, only he was not a marquis, and, of course, had not the same position, and Saura always thought that she would like to play with her coronet in the back drawing-room on wet days. " I don't know exactly what game it would be, something gambling, of course," she had said to Don Jose, when talking it over with him, " a sort of hop-scotch, I think, wouldn't be bad ; one wants exercise on a bad day. Yes ! I should spread the robes on the ground, and put the coronet in the centre, and play hop-scotch." Don Jose didn't know the game, so Saura at once took him to her own room. " I haven't got a coronet yet," she said, "or the robes of State, but mamma's bonnet will do for the first, and my macintosh for the other," and then she began to show him. Don Jose confessed to being much impressed with the whole game, and swore to practice it assiduously.

"And then," said Saura, " when you are perfect, we'll get up a club. Then there was young Frank Lindley. He was in waiting on one of the royalties, and just had enough to keep up appearances and get along with. " He really is a charming fellow, and I like him," Saura had said. " His poetry is lovely, but I do wish he wouldn't come and call when I'm ill. To have a poet calling when one's ill makes one feel so like the Traviata ! " In her secret heart she had more respect for him than for any of them, and liked him really the best on that account. He was good-looking, with a look that occasionally passed his face, a sort of half-tamed expression that Saura considered most attractive. " It makes one think he could do such awful things, if he chose. I really believe he will some day — something improper — run away with a queen or crown princess, his poetry is so Byronic and immoral.

I don't believe there's a married person in one of his poems, though I'm sure they all ought to be. Don't you think so, mamma . " "My dear, you shouldn't say such things/' replied Mrs. Adam with an indulgent smile. She always replied to her with an indulgent smile. The poor lady was terribly frightened of " dear Saura," although very proud of her on account of the people her girl brought to the house and had collected round her. Mrs. Adam had a fair income, and a few friends in a good set who had been kind to her on her advent to London two years ago, but they were all left behind now. Saura's dazzling brilliancy, her smartness and eccentricities had got them into the first set ; how long her popularity would last was another thing. She was flashing away now, with her youth and good looks and freshness, but that, as she knew, would pass, and then — a " I suppose I ought to marry," she thought, as she dressed the same evening as the day of the meeting.

" I can't go on like this for ever ; it's too tiring. I don't know when I think of it, that I wanted to be the fashion, but I found myself getting talked about and becoming the thing, so I went on ; but I want to lead people, if anything, and one can't do that without a position, and I've not got a bit of one. No, I'm afraid there's nothing for it but to marry. What a bore to have to be so conventional," as she straightway begau to wonder who she had better accept. She never of course for a moment thought of consulting her mother. If anyone had thought of proposing such a course to her she would have told them that she always settled those sort of things herself, and, indeed, that her mother had given her the management of the whole house. Frank Lindley arrived late that night at Mrs. Adam's tiny little house in Chapel Street.

He found the small hall — the front sitting-room having been knocked into it — rather full of people, all looking with anxiety towards a passage room at the back which led to the dining-room, a room built out at the back. The people in there again were gazing in a hopeless way at those in the hall, at least, they were near the stairs, while they themselves were hope lessly blocked and boxed up. Frank managed to get up the stairs before long, and met Florrie Danvers coming down. She was a smart girl, who wrote books and had been on the platform at the meeting that afternoon. " Ah, Frank," she said, " I'm so glad to see you. Only just come 1 Then you've not heard the news. Saura says she's proposed to Summers and he's accepted her." "You don't mean it," said Frank. " Ichtheosaura going to be married at last !

" " What a nasty way of putting it," said Florrie, "but it's quite true. There they are. She proposed to him this after noon after the meeting. Wasn't she in splendid form, by the-bye ? and she's wearing his first present now. Aren't they lovely ? " They referred to the jewels that were shining away on Saura's dress, though the epithet lovely might certainly have been applied to her. She was standing up, with a pretty kind of conquering hero sort of air about her, slowly waving a large pink fan. Her dress of white satin had been specially selected by her as appropriate to a bride elect, while round her waist and neck and on her corsage, in her ears, and on her head, shone the famous pink pearls and diamonds that had belonged to Summers' mother. Summers himself was destined, perhaps, never to realise such a happy or delicious moment again.

It was the un expected consummation of all he had desired. At the other end of the room, on a window-seat, was sitting a portly young man with podgy hands, folded meekly across his stomach, with a face too small for his body on the top of it, and over that a regular " bang " of hair, which also required a little cutting behind. He was looking much astonished and very bewildered. To him Frank wended his way. "Hullo, Mark, what are you doing? I thought you never went anywhere. Isn't it rather late for you?" " Why, what's the time ? " said the fat young man on the window-seat. " About half-past eleven. Where's Mrs. Mars . " "Good gracious, no wonder I was so tired. What fun can people find in this sort of show ? " " Oh," said Frank, " I rather like it, and I hear the music's been first-rate. Hark !

De Rezke is going to sing." All during the performance of the magnificent tenor, Mark Mars kept up a succession of shivers and sotto voce remarks, just loud enough to annoy poor Lady Black, a devoted admirer of Jean's, from enjoying her favourite treat. " Of course," said Mars at the conclusion, "you know he's had it all transposed. He can't sing the F iu alt, and it's not open enough, don't you notice, awful — out of tune — not a bit of a tenor — " " Anyway everyone seems to like it," replied Frank with an amused smile. " Good-evening, Mrs. Mars, what did you think of that ? " " You should hear Mark sing it. Oh, his voice is far finer." " But why don't we hear Mark sing ? I've been waiting years for that pleasure, and never had it yet." " Oh, Luizi says he will come out in the autumn. He's getting on so well now."

" Oh," said Frank, " that's good news ; but didn't Rims Norwood say that last summer ? " " Yes," jerked in Mars ; " but everything he did was wrong, perfectly wrong. Luizi says I have got to relearn everything. Norwood made me practise all the middle notes, and Luizi uses only the high ones." " You should hear his F sharp in alt," murmured Mrs. Mars. " I suppose everyone's method is different, because you told me that Norwood made you unlearn all that Filbertoni taught you, and he all you'd learnt in Dresden." " Oh," said Mars with a superior smile, " you don't under stand. But it's time we were off; we singers have to take such care." And he moved off to say good-night to Mrs. Adam, who, as she was standing near the door, and he was afraid of draughts, he addressed in a voice like a throttled fowl, and then went down the stairs, answering his wife's remarks in the sort of chuck a hen might use who was afraid of catching cold, and who consequently kept her mouth shut.

" Poor Mark," thought Frank. " He really wouldn't be a bad sort of fellow if he wasn't quite so fond of ladies' dresses, and behaved a little more like an ordinary being." "Frank, I want to speak to you," said a voice behind him, and there was Ichtheosaura. " What did Mark Mars think of my frock ? I know he's taken it all in, for he sat there the whole evening looking at everyone fixedly. I couldn't get him to move except once, and then I repented it, for he took Lady Rowena Hamilton to the tea-room, and first he spilt the tea over her, and then asked her who that dreadful woman was in blue. Of course it was her sister, and she told him so, and then he and his wife sat there side by side holding each other's hands ; at least, they would have if they'd dared, looking like frightened hares. Where are they going now, mamma 1 " " Home to bed, my dear.

Mr. Mars said they'd ordered the carriage at eleven, and as it looked showery they didn't like to keep the man waiting, besides, they said if they were not home soon their bath water would be cold," and Mrs. Adam passed on to welcome some fresh arrivals. " Come with me, Frank, I want a talk ; let's get out of this crowd." Frank followed as well as he could through the crowd, up the stairs, till they reached a cosy little room, dimly lighted with several Persian and Eastern lamps. There was a faint scent of some delicate curious perfume, which seemed hovering in the air ; it was perfectly still. " What a rest," said Saura, as she sank in a divan. " Well, what have you to say ? " " What have I to say to your marriage, Saura? Nothing. I'm sorry, though I hope you'll be happy." "You've been a long time congratulating me.

I saw you when you came in first, and you went straight up to that stupid Mark, and never came near me. Frank I don't believe you care," she cried, springing up. " Of course, I never believe half you or Jose or any of the others say to me, but I wanted you to care." " You know I care," said Frank, in a low, unsteady voice. " Do you ? Well, you are more unconventional than I, and I prided myself on it ; but you beat me if you don't care about the girl you said you loved." " Saura ! Saura ! why do you talk like this ? Why have you brought me here ? You engage yourself to one man, and then you bring me here and ask me if I love you. What do you mean ? " " I don't think I really quite know," said Saura, and she coiled herself up in a dark corner of the divan, crossing her arms behind her head, " I don't know honestly ; but I feel awfully funny, and rather like Circe."

" And you look it," thought Frank, gazing at her white draped sinewy form, with the jewels shining out of the semi-darkness. " Saura, listen to me," he cried. " When I first met you I loved you ; that was before you came to London, when you still lived with your aunt." " Dear auntie," murmured Saura. " I told you so, and you promised to marry me if I worked and gave you what you wanted — position, wealth, and distinction. The first I could, and always could have given you, the second I may win, also the last. Saura, think it over ; it's not too late. You know I'm getting known. I have a play accepted for the Haymarket ; it's coming out in the autumn. Cannot you wait just a little longer ? " "Till the play comes out at the Haymarket ? It would be nice to be sitting in state in a box with a big bouquet in front, and to smile sweetly when the people applauded one's husband's play ; but, after all, I should like to be a marchioness."

" And this is all you have to say, you who pride yourself on your daring originality, you who think yourself unconventional and revolutionary, who took the chair at a woman's meeting to consider how to abolish the House of Lords ; you make a mariage de convenance so as to be a marchioness." " Don't, Frank," cried Saura, " don't talk like that ; you destroy my illusions ; you make me feel small and uncomfortable. I like Jack Summers, at least I shall like living with him ; he's a nonentity, so can't bore me. A non entity's nothing, and you can't be bored by nothing." "Yet some people say that nothing bores them," said Frank, smiling grimly. " I'm glad you like Summers, as you evidently mean to marry him ; but is that a justifica tion ? You promised long ago to marry me." "Oh, don't talk like the Family Herald; this is the nineteenth century.