CHAPTER III.

Observer, Volume 2, Issue 50, 27 August 1881, Page 584

CHAPTER 111.

THE TEST OF THE SPECTACLES. The first person whom I encountered on returning to the house was the butler. He met me in the hall, with a receipted account in his hand which I had sent him to pay. The amount was close on a hundred pounds, and I had payed it immediately. 'Is there no discount ?' I asked, looking at the receipt. j 'The parties expect cash, sir, and charge ! accordingly.' He looiied so respectable when he made this answer ; he had served us for so many years, that I felt an irresistible temptation to try the Demon Spectacles on the butler before I venxired to look through them at the ladies of my family. Our honest old servant would be such excellent test. 'lam afraid my sight is failing me,' I said. With this exceedingly simple explanation I put on the spectacles, and looked at the butler. The hall whirled round with me : on my word of honor I tremble and turn cold while I write of it now, Septimus Notman had spoken the truth ! In an instant the butler's heart became hideously visible — a fat organ seen through the medium of the infernal glasses. The thought in him was plainly legible to me in these words, ' Does my master think I'm going to give him the five per cent, off the bill ? Beastly meanness, interfering with the butler's perquisites.' I took off my spectacles and put them in my pocket. ' You are a thief !' I said to the butler. ' You have got the discount money on this bill — five pounds all but a shilling or two — in your pocket. Send in your accounts; you leave my service.' 'To-morrow, sir, if you like !' answered the butler indignantly. After serving your family for five-and-twenty-years, to be called a thief for only taking my perquisites is an insult, Mr Alfred, that I have not deserved.' He put his handkerchief to his eyes and left me. It was true that he had served us for a quarter of a century ; it was also true that he had taken his perquisite and told a lib about it. But he had Iris compensating vertues. When I was a child he had given me many a ride on his knee and many a stolen drink of wine and water. His cellar-book had always been honestly kept ; and his wife herself admitted that he was a model husband. At other times I should have remembered this, I should have felt that I had been hasty, and have asked his pardon. At this time I failed to feel the slightest compassion for him, and never faultered for a moment in my resolution to send him away. What change had passed over me ? ******** The library door opened, and an old schoolfellow and college friend of mine looked out. * I thought I heard your voice in the hall,' he said ; ' I have been < waiting an hour for you.' ' Anything very important ?' I asked, leading the way back to the library. 'Nothing of the least importance to you,'' he replied, modestly. I want no further explanations. More than once I had lent him money, and, sooner or later he had always repaid me. 'Another little loan?' I enquired, smiling pleasantly. • I am really ashamed to ask you again, Alfred. But if you could just lend me fifty pounds — just look at that letter. What mean impulse lead me to repeat the excuse about my failing sight, to read his heart on pretense of reading his letter ? He made some joke, suggested by the quaint appearance of the Spectacles- I was to closely occupied to appreciate his his sense of humor. What had he just said to me ? He had said, 'I am ashamed to ask you again.' And what had he thought while he was sjieaking ? He had thought, ' When one has a milch cow at his disposal, who but a fool would fail to take advantage of it.?' I handed him back the letter (from a lawyer threathening ' proceedings ') and I said in my hardest tones, ' Its not convenient to oblige you this time.' He stared at me like a man thunderstruck. 'Is this a joke, Alfred?' he asked. ' Do 1 look if I were joking ?' He took up his hat. ' There is but one excuse for you,' he said. ' Your social position is to much for your weak brain — your money has got into your head. Good-morning.' I have been indebted to him for all sorts of kind services at school and college. He was an honorable man and a faithful friend. If the galling sense of his own narrow means made him unjustly contemptuous towards rich people, it was a fault (in my case, an exasperatingfault), no doubt. But who is perfect ? And what are fifty pounds to me ? This is what I should once have felt, before he could have found time enough to get to the door. As things were, I let him go, and thought myself well rid of a mean hanger-on who only valued me for my money. Being now free to visit the ladies, I rang the bell and asked if my mother was at home. She was in her boudoir. And where Avas Miss Cecilia ? In. the boudoir, too. On entering the room I found visitors in the way, and put off the trial of the Spectacles untill they had taken their leave. Just as they were going a thundering knock at the door announced more visitors. This time, fortunately, we escaped with no worse consequences than the delivery of cards. We actually had two minutes to ourselves. I seized the opportunity of reminding my mother that I was constitutionally inaccessible to the claius of society, and that I thought we might as well have our house to ourselves for half an hour or so.

'Send word down stairs,' I said, 'that you are not at home.'

My mother, magnificent in her old lace, her j admirably-dressed gray hair, and her finelyfalling robe of purple silk— looked across the fireplace at Cecilia — tall, and lazy, and boauti--1 ful, with lovely brown eyes, luxuriant black hair, a warmly -pale complexion, and an ambercoloured dress, and said to me : 'You foraet Cecilia. She likes society.' Cecilia looked at my mother with an air of languid surprise. ' What an extraordinary mistake !' she answered. '1 hate society.' My mother smiled, rang the bell, and gave the order— Not at home. I produced my Spectacles. There was an outcry at the hideous ugliness of them. I laid the blame on 'my oculist,' and waited for what was to follow between the two ladies. My mother spoke first. Consequently I looked at mother. [I present her words first, and her thoughts next, in parenthesis.] 'So you hate society, my dear ? Surely you have changed your opinion lately?' ('She doesn't mind how she lies as long as she can curry favour with Alfred. False creature.') [I* report Cecilia's answer on the same plan.] ' Pardon me ; I haven't in the least changed my opinion — I was only afraid to express it. I hope I have not given offence by expressing it now.' ('She cant exist without gossip, and then she tries to lay it on me. Worldly old wretch !") What I began to think of my mother, I am ashamed to record. What I thought of Cecilia may be stated in two words. I was more eager than ever to see " The angel of the school," the good and lovely Zilla.' My mother stopped the further progress of my investigations. ' Take off those hideous Spectacles, Alfred, or leave us to our visitors. I don't say your sight may not be failing ; I only say, change your occulist.' I took off the Spectacles, all the more Avillingly that I began to be really afraid of them. The talk between the ladies went on. 'Yours is a strange confession, my dear,' my mother said to Cecilia. 'May I ask what motive so young a lady can have for hating society ?' ' Only the motive of wanting to improve myself,' Cecilia answered. 'If I knew a little more of modern languages, and if I could be something better than a feeble amateur when I paint in water colours, you might think me worthier to be Alfred's wife. But society is always in the way when I open my book or take up my brushes. In London I have no time to myself, and, I really cannot disguise it, the frivolous life I lead is not to my taste.' I thought this (my Spectacles being in my pocket, remember) very well and very prettily said. My mother looked at me. ' I quite agree with Cecilia,' I said, answering the look. 'We cannot count on having five minutes to ourselves in London from morning to night.' Another knock at the street door contributed its noisy support to my views as I spoke. 'We daren't even look out of the Avindow,' 1 remarked, 'for fear society may look up at the same moment and see that Aye are at home.' My mother smiled. ' You are certainly too remarkable young people,' she *aid, with an air of satirical indulgence — and paused for a moment, as if an idea had occurred to her Avhicli Avas more than usually worthy of consideration. If her eye. had not been on me at the moment, I believe I should have taken my Spectacles out of my pocket. 'You are both so thoroughly agreed in disliking society and despising London,' she resumed, 'that I feel it my duty, a« a good mother, to make your lives a little more in harmony Avith your tastes, if I can. You complain, Alfred, that you can never count on having live minutes to yourself Avith Cecilia. Cecilia complains that she is perpetually interrupted in the laudable effort to improve her mind. I offer you both the Avholo day to yourselves, Aveek after Aveek for the next three months. We Avill spend the Avinter at Long Fallas.' Long Fallas Avas our country seat. There Avas no hunting ; the shooting Avas let : the place Avas seAen miles from Timbercombe toAvn and station ; and our nearest neighbor Avas a young Ritualistic clergyman, popularly reported in the villiage to be starving himself to death. I declined my mother's extraordinary proposal without a moment's hesitation. Cecilia, with the readiest and sAveetest submission, accepted it. This was our first open difference of opinion. EA'eii without the Spectacles, I could see that my mother hailed it as a good sign. She had consented to our marriage in the spring Avithout in the least altering her opinion that the angelic Zilla Avas the right Avife for me. ' Settle it betAveen yourselves my dear, I ;,' she said, and left her chair to look for her Avork- Cecilia rose immediately to save her the trouble. The instant their backs were turned on me I put on the terrible glasses. Is there such a thing in anatomy as n back vieAv of the heart? There is such a thing assuredly Avhen you look through the Demon Spectacles. My mother's piTvate sentiments presented themselves to me as folloAVS : " If they don't get thoroughly sick of each other in a winter at Long Fallas, I give up all knoAvledge of human nature. He shall marry Zilla yet.' Cecilia's motives asserted themselves with transparent simplicity in these words, "His mother fully expects me to say 'No.' Horrible as the prospect is, I'll disap < point her by saying ' Yes.' ' ' ' Horrible as the prospect is ' Avas to my mind a very revolting expression, considering that I Avas personally included in the prospect. My mother's mischievous test of our affection for each other uoav presented itself to me in the light of a sensible proceeding, in the solitude of Long Fallas, I should surely discover whether Cecilia Avas about to marry for money or myself. I concealed my Spectacles, and said nothing at the time. But later, Avhen my mother entered the draAving-room dressed to go out for dinner, I waylaid her, and after announcing that I had reconsidered the matter, declared that I Avas quite Avilling to go to Long Fallas. Cecilia came in dressed for dinner also. She had never looked so irresistibly lovely as when she AA r as informed of my change of opinion. "What a happy time Aye shall have !" she said, and smiled as if she meant it. They went aAvay to their party. I Avas in the

library when they returned. Hearing the carriage stop at the door, I went out into the ball, and was suddenly checked on my way to the ladies by the sound of a man's voice : "Many thanks ;I am close at home now. " My mother's voice followed : " I will let yon know if we <*o to the country, Sir John. You will ride over and see us ?" ' With the greatest pleasure. Good-night, Miss Cecilia.' There was no mistaking the tone in which these last four words were spoken. fcJir John's accent expressed indescribable tenderness. I retired again to the library. My mother came in, followed by her charming companion. 'Here is a new complication,' she said. ' Cecilia doesn't to go to Long Fallas.' • I asked why. Cecilia answered, without looking at me, 'Oh I have changed my mind !' She turned aside to relieve my mother of her fur clock. I instantly consulted my Spectacles, and obtained my information in these mysterious terms : 'Sir John goes to Timbercombe.' Very short, and yet suggestive of more one interpretation. A little inquiry made the facts more clear. Sir John had been one of the guests at the dinner, and he and Cecilia had shaken hands like old friends. At my mother's request he had been presented to her. He had produced such an excellent impression that she had taken him in her carriage part of his way home. She had also discovered that he was about to visit a relative living at Timbercombe (already mentioned, I think, as our nearest town). Another momentary opportunity with the Spectacles completed my discoveiies. Sir John had proposed marriage (unsuccessfully) to Cecilia, and being still persistently in love with her, only wanted a favorable opportunity to propose again. The excellent impression which he had produced on my mother was perfectly intelligible now. In feeling reluctant to give her rejected lover that other opportunity, was Cecilia afraid of Sir John, or afraid of herself ? My Spectacles informed me that she deliberately declined to face that question, even in her thoughts. Under these circumstances, the test of a dreary winter residence at Long Fallas became, to myjmind, more valuable than ever. Siuglehanded, Cecilia might successfully keep up appearances and deceive other people, though she might not deceive me. But, in combination witli Sir John, there was a chance that she would, of course, be dearer to me than ever. If not (with more producable proof than the Demond Spectacles to justify me), I need not hesitate to break off the engagement. ' Second thoughts are not always best, dear Cecilia,' said I. 'Do me a favor. Let us try Long Fallas, and if we find the place quite unendurable, let us return to London.' Cecilia looked at me and hesitated — looked at my mother, and submitted to Long Fallas in the sweetest manner. The more they were secretly at variance, the better the two ladies appeared to understand each other. We did not start for the country until three days afterwards. The packing-up was a serious matter, to begin with, and my mother prolonged the delay by paying a visit* to her niece at the school in the country. She kept the visit a secret from Cecilia, of course. But even when avc were alone, and when I asked about Zella, I was only favored with a very brief reply. She merely lifted her eyes to heaven and said, 'Perfectly charming !'