A PROBLEM IN ETHICS.

Cromwell Argus, Volume XXIV, Issue 1462, 11 May 1897, Page 2

A PROBLEM IN ETHICS.

David and Jonathan had boon cronies at Eton and (-Imran at Oxford, and ware still, as the former expressed it, as thick as thieves. VVhatevcrDavid’s faults were—and that military hero was far from deserving the imputation of perfection—lack of frith in his friends did not lignre upon the list. When be and Tonathan smoked tin if p rting cigar in the Jermyn-strect chambers of tbn fid ns Achates, the day before the second halUlion of the Imperial Raagets sailed for the Kind, David had said, with a suspicious moisture dimming the eyeglass without which,'in waking moments, he had never been seen ; “ You’ll look after the little woman tor me, old man, 1 know.” When they stood together in a light drizzle upon the deck of the stout troopship Hamper what time the fifes and drums squeaked and 1 raMlod through the concluding strains of “ The Girl 1 Lrft Rebind Me,’’and mustering footsteps clubbed ou (ho wot. planks, and pink-nosed voting subalterns who had matched aboard with the rank and file undi r the hook-licuks of the Ten Tribes, sought the welcome concealment of their stuffy cabins until the vessel should be well under weigh. Captain David had said again, and in the same words, not being a man of versatile conversational powers : “ 1 know you’ll be » friend to the little woman—fi.r rny sake.” And .loiiHlhan hud promised, end kept his word, playing the triple rule of guide, philosopher, and lie ml to Mrs. David for David's lake, until he, begun to play it for her own. And he had thought himself so secure in the beginning. He liked a dilTeient soit, of woman. His ideal was of the fine, large, imposing order and Mrs. David seemed to him, at find, little more than an animated bonbon. Yet the most rigid du list may yield to the sudden temptation of a box of American candies. And the animated bonbon had a soul, which pieped out at her eyes when she lifted them to Jonathan's. And, as I have said, from la mg a solicitous guardian for David’s sake, he had become a jealous guardian for his own. And they had been weak, but not wicked, ns she said to herself. And now David was coining home on leave, after three years’ absence ; and it was horrible—il made her feel like a naughty woman in a book (o feel that he who had been Nuudxr One would now come in as a bad third. The discovery of the real st nt•* of things had been a shock. The mutual knowledge of the statu of their affections rendered their intercourse monosyllabic to a decree. They were careful to sit at a respectful distance from each other. Il rent the sou! of Jonathan to s. e the footstool he had been won! to occupy now given over to an .asthmatic pug. They talked of David relieiously, continually. They said to one another what a good fellow he was—how boyish, bow bluff, how chei ry—and praised him until their throats were sore, and looked at one another with eyes that (old the truth in spite of of them. But they were, now that the equino qua Imped had been abstracted, most scrupulous to secure (he portal of the house, shed, or other apartment where the beast had formerly been lodged and fed. Yes. they had, as they said to themselves continually, been incautio is but not trca.xhe.r----0Q«. They hail edged over the brink of loyalty to the absent by degree,>. Jonathan had cor* tain rights—as David’s alter ego. Wheucve r he had handed David’s wife a letter-weight or a candlestick, he hml done it lor David’s sake, and squeezed her own. She would accept tho shelter of »n umbrella, for instance, during one of thoir country walks—(David was particular about her taking plenty of exercise!—solely because David would have wished her to avoid the risk of chill. But when aim curved her little gloved hand about Jonathan’s elbow, and brushed bis shoulder with her big lump of bronze hair—bronze, snd not “ bronzed ” —and stabbed the willing victim to tho heart with poignant electric thrills, she must have done it to please herself nnd not her husband. Now they drew (part, looked at one another with miserable eyes, and rejoiced with chastening si the glad tidings of David’s home-coming; while the consciousness of Ihotr position toward* him struck cold to their hearts. To deceive the frankly unsuspecting is a hard matter. Jonathan felt that the tirst shake of David's big hearty hand would squeeze, out of him the admission that hj" had failed in his trust. Mrs Divid was quite certain that, she should burnt into tears and confess nearly all, the moment stie looked the onoe-bidoved of her soul ho [wet n the eyes. Bhe saw herself sobbing upon his coat lapel, with a prophetic < ye. Meanwhile she would have wept much more comfortably upon .Jonathan’*, if he had only held his arms out. But Jonathan, clinging to (he poor remnants of bis honour, did not extend his arms And so they sat, one on each side of the fireplace, snd employed themselves ia mathematical calculations : how tar a man'.* friend’s arm may go round the aforesaid man’s wile’s w&ist without overpassing the boundaries of permissibility ? Jonathan had worked that out over and over again, always with a different result. Then, the kiss which had been tho prologue to the whole affair had been given in the middle of a thunderstorm. during which Mis. David was very much fright; ned. It was a reassuring, protective kiss. In giving it. Jonathan telt sure he bad not outrageously exceeded bis prerogative. But then those subsequent osculations, without any justifying disturbance of the outward elements the subtlest casuistry failed to justify them. Mrs. David was engaged upon a similar problem. How little of actual fact may, being related, be held to constitute that open confession which is so good for the soul, though so uncommonly bad for the welfare of it< earthly tenement 1 She had her weak moments' when she thought of telling nothing at all. In one of (hem arrived the telegram from Gibraltar, and half unconsciously its fluttered recipient gummed up the whole situation in a sentence ; “ Oh, he’s coming ; he’ll be here directly ! What are we to do—no ? ” Thus imperfectly may be conveyed the piteous quavrr with which the sentence ended, and which nearly upset ail Jonathan’s rigid resolves. He took the crackling paper—without however, squeezing the fingers that yielded it—and read the message from tho s?a-girt rock : “ Arrive Plymouth Saturday. Do not moot vessel, as sickness on board. With you Sunday—David.’’ Saturday ' And this was Monday ! Silence was perilous. Mrs, David spoke : “ Sickness on board ! That is the reason of the delay, of course.” “ Delay ? ” “ Yon know the ordinary passage is five days. Did you look at tho ‘Shipping Intelligence' this morning ? ” He flushed, and stammered, H No ! I forgot. Have you ? " “ I intended to, but " Tho rest of tho sentence was lost In the crackling of the paper. A moment later Jonathan said : “There moat be some mistake.Tho Leona left Gibraltar yesterday. She should be due at Plymouth on Thursday at latest.” She said, with a touch of wifely dignity, “ David must know best. If he says the ship does not arrive until Saturday, the question is settled, of course. Will you—will yon stay to dinner P ” Jonathan was only too glad to accept the theory of David’s infallibility. It meant two d ay a’—-f orty-eigh t hours’ —eatra respite. He stayed, Ihnradsy evening found him sitting in his eld place on the ether aids of tho hearth. He had dined with her, and they bad talked or David the entire, time. But tongues are govtrned more easily than eyes. His had caught tire at hors ; be had almost risen from hi* seat to go to her, when tho irnpu’se whs frustrate 1 by ihe entrance of a servant earn ing a lett< r on cgtray. She took it listlessly enough ; but he tv*led thcst.wt of surprise with whi'h she

recognised the ban Uniting of the direction,and (he osgex inti reat with which she opened and read. He was consib us of an overmastering desire to know what it was all about—whether it was wiitten by a man— whether that man had evt r been her lover ? One ol the chief signs of love is a tendency to unlovely suspicion ; one would credit one’s worst, enemy with deeds less black than one attributes to the idol of one's soul. It must be from a man. Had that man ever kissed bet ? So forth until she looked up, and meeting the gloomy foreboding of his glance, said eagerly : “ It’s from a woman—a girl I used to know years ago, and who married a man in the Civil Service, and went out to India. We have not corresponded for years, and now the writes to me by my maiden name and to the old address. It came by hand, and mother scat the messenger on.” ‘•Tiie writer has retn.oed to England, then?” Yes. She is staying at the Leviathan Hotel. She has come home to join her husband, who started enrier. She is ill or in trouble, and she begs me, by tho memory of nur old friendship, to come to her at once. She only landed at Plymouth this morning. And—bow odd ! she sa>s, * 1 came home in the Leona 1 ’ ” “ If that is true,” said Jonathan, with a sickening sinking at tho heart, “ David may be here at snv moment,” And as she sprang to her foot and Uid her band upon the bdl : “ What is it ? ” be cried. “ Whore me you going ? Oh, to your friend ! ” Who said, ’‘Yes. it will give roe. time to—to think.” Then sho rang the hell and ordered a hansom, and bade her maid array her m a furlim.d cloak and a thick lace veil. The appeal in the letter, of whirn she mui not road (he whole to .loutban, had touched her heart through the armour of her infatuation for te r husband's friend, Tho writer reminded her of a compact made in bygone years ; one of those vows which women make and break so easily—women whose loyalty to women is so weak and poor a tiling; who nil! stand upon the corpse of an old friendship to kiss the, lips of a new love, and never dream of shuddering. But she was grateful just now to lie thought geod. “ You am so good, so brave," the letter ran, “ 1 know that I can rely on you to help me in ray need.” This great need might bo of a recipe for the neuralgia ; but, then, the other consideration ! Time to breathe, time to think, before David should come home. “ May 1 come with you,” whispered Jonathan under the lamplight, as he helped her into the cab, “ as far hr the door nf the hotel ? ” She assented with her eyes, and he jumped in beside her. They rattled down Piccadilly, turned off down one of the many streets which vertically intersect the thoroughfare, swung round to the left, and pulled up before the shining portals of the Leviathan. Jonathan released the hand which ho had not been able, being purely human, to resist holding, and sprang out. But as be reached the pavement n gent leman in the act of ascending tho hotel steps looked round. The bluish radiance of the electric light fell full upon him as he shivered and pulled a heavy fur coat round him in peevish protest against the keenness of tho air. The gesture was unfamiliar, but the face was the face of David. Still, the flicker of the wind-blown shadows might have deceived. The ma.ii looked certainly older than David. Jonathan might have bfen misled by a passing resemblance. Hi* hand was cole and shaking as he helped his friend’s wife to alight. “ I shall not be long,” ska said, in a hurried whisper, and passed into the hotel. The woman who had written the spiraling loiter sat in a drawing-room upon the second floor, huddled up and shivering over the fire.her Anglo-Indian blood conger led with the chill of English Apiil weather. She was a little, fair, fluffy woman, with pinkish blue eyes and white teeth projecting from a nairowed jaw ; and as she had increased the pinkness of her eyes by crying, and her mouth and chin worked nervously, she bore a striking resemblance to a white Angora rabbit Kite wore a te.»gown ot last year, and the atmosphere of the room whs heavy with an Indian perfume. Khe recognised her friend of old. and, with a little gurgling shriik of welcome, jumped up and fell upon her neck. *• To thmk of your getting my letter ! Oh, it lot i the wildest chance nf reaching you, I knew, after all these years ! 1 sent it by the hotel messenger to the old address.” “Fortunately, mother still lives there, and sent it on to me."’ “ Then you're married 1 What is your new name? Is ho nice P But of course he is. You would never make a bad choice—you were always so sensible, and of course you adore him—yt;u would never give, jourself sway without being quite sure of your own heart.” The vis tor shivered a little—the evening was decidedly chilly. “ Now that 1 am here, tell me what you would like me to do.” “ Oh, ! don’t know ! and that’s the worst of it. But I’m being persecuted —driven to death —and T want you to send him away.” You don’t mean your husband ?” “ George ? No, 1 haven’t seen him yet. He’s in Scotland.” She wrung her thin little hands, glittering with rings, together,and made a piteous lacc. “ I cabled to him from Gibral. tar to say that, the Leona didn’t arrive until Saturday. I winted a little breathing space—time to get riri of—of the other—and he won’t go ! He followed me here.” “ Oh !” Tho White Rabbit winced at the accent on the rrofiosyl! »ble. “ Yes. I have been dreadfully fooliah. but not wicked. I oughtn’t to have, flirted with him at. Simla ; but he was really very nice, and George was down in the Plains. Oh, men oughtn’t to leave their wives so unprotected ! But he and George were such chums, and George said, ‘ I leave the little woman to your care,’ and ho was very careful of me—and very nice—until he began to put on jealous airs. Then George was summoned home, and 1 was to follow. George was quite contented when he heard we were coming home in the same ship. And now we are here he has taken the idea of parting to heart so—he is like a m»d creature— he threatens to tell George he can’t live without me ‘ Let him kill me if he likes,’ he keeps saying - and in my m’serv, with my poor brain whirling so, I thought of you.” •• What do you want me to do ? See this man—reason with him—persuade him to go away The other caught »t the straw. “ Oh, what ft mercy you’re married ! You can understand everything. How kind you are not to be hard on me because I’ve been foolish !” At this juncture a waiter brought up a note from the coffee-room. The White Rabbit read it aloud : “ I am wailing.You will not tue me out. Only consent to see me ogam—l’m not as unreasonable as you think. Only consent to see me. Do not drive a desperate man to tho extremity ! ” “ He used to bo such a merry, light-hearted fellow—a grown-up schooi-bby. I can’t think what has come to him.” The While Babbit threw the paper into the fire. “ And he is a married man—which makes his conduct more disgraceful,” .And (hen, after a hurried consultation wife her ally, coming to the conclusion that the dweller on tho threshold must be tleslr. with diplomatically, she sent down a pencil seravr to tlje effect that tie might present himself. Then she fluttered sway into tho bedroom and barred the door, leaving the friend of her youth contemplating the situation from a lofty pinnacle of morality. There was a spice of humour about the situation, but Mrs. David did not perceive it. She was thinking that Jonathan must be getting tired of waiting, snd hoping that be would not catch cold.when the door opened, and the man who was to bn <xpostulated with in the interests of family peare, and from the standpoint of high propriety, catered the apartment. He was a big fleshy

man, who had been once pink, but was now pasiy from an umvlu Icsome indulgence in emotion. His I idi-log jaw wits sunk upm his breast. Ho lotted up ns he enl< rod. from under lowering eyebrows with bloodshot eyes ; and, though she had never before sent him *o strangely transfigured—though the man who confronted her was so strangely, frowsnlly, fiercely unlike the, cheery, boisterous David nf her wifely remembrance— she knew her husband, and knew that her premeditated confession would never need to bo made. “ She behaved nobly, by George !” said David afterwards to Jonathan. “ She’s a woman of broad general views, you (no. She knows that a man may be carried off his head wilhoufc being a scoundrel of sorts. She’s forbidden me ever to refer to the past, and I don’t mean to do it. I’d do anything for her—nr for yon. Look here, she has told me what a friend you’re been to her these three years, and I—■don’t know how to thank you ! I don’t know how to show my gratitude, old fellow, upon my f word.” “ Believe me, you hare nothing to be grateful for,” said Jonathan, with considerable tiuth ; and they went off, arm-in-arm, to dine.—“ The* World.”