Love and Mr. Lewisham Read online

  CHAPTER XIX.

  LEWISHAM'S SOLUTION.

  The next morning Lewisham learnt from Lagune that his intuition wascorrect, that Ethel had at last succumbed to pressure and consented toattempt thought-reading. "We made a good beginning," said Lagune,rubbing his hands. "I am sure we shall do well with her. Certainly shehas powers. I have always felt it in her face. She has powers."

  "Was much ... pressure necessary?" asked Lewisham by an effort.

  "We had--considerable difficulty. Considerable. But of course--as Ipointed out to her--it was scarcely possible for her to continue as mytypewriter unless she was disposed to take an interest in myinvestigations--"

  "You did that?"

  "Had to. Fortunately Chaffery--it was his idea. I must admit--"

  Lagune stopped astonished. Lewisham, after making an odd sort ofmovement with his hands, had turned round and was walking away downthe laboratory. Lagune stared; confronted by a psychic phenomenonbeyond his circle of ideas. "Odd!" he said at last, and began tounpack his bag. Ever and again he stopped and stared at Lewisham, whowas now sitting in his own place and drumming on the table with bothhands.

  Presently Miss Heydinger came out of the specimen room and addressed aremark to the young man. He appeared to answer with considerablebrevity. He then stood up, hesitated for a moment between the threedoors of the laboratory and walked out by that opening on the backstaircase. Lagune did not see him again until the afternoon.

  That night Ethel had Lewisham's company again on her way home, andtheir voices were earnest. She did not go straight home, but insteadthey went up under the gas lamps to the vague spaces of Clapham Commonto talk there at length. And the talk that night was a momentousone. "Why have you broken your promise?" he said.

  Her excuses were vague and weak. "I thought you did not care so muchas you did," she said. "And when you stopped these walks--nothingseemed to matter. Besides--it is not like _seances_ with spirits ..."

  At first Lewisham was passionate and forcible. His anger at Lagune andChaffery blinded him to her turpitude. He talked her defencesdown. "It is cheating," he said. "Well--even if what _you_ do is notcheating, it is delusion--unconscious cheating. Even if there issomething in it, it is wrong. True or not, it is wrong. Why don'tthey thought-read each other? Why should they want you? Your mind isyour own. It is sacred. To probe it!--I won't have it! I won't haveit! At least you are mine to that extent. I can't think of you likethat--bandaged. And that little fool pressing his hand on the back ofyour neck and asking questions. I won't have it! I would rather killyou than that."

  "They don't do that!"

  "I don't care! that is what it will come to. The bandage is thebeginning. People must not get their living in that way anyhow. I'vethought it out. Let them thought-read their daughters and hypnotisetheir aunts, and leave their typewriters alone."

  "But what am I to do?"

  "That's not it. There are things one must not suffer anyhow, whateverhappens! Or else--one might be made to do anything. Honour! Justbecause we are poor--Let him dismiss you! _Let_ him dismiss you. Youcan get another place--"

  "Not at a guinea a week."

  "Then take less."

  "But I have to pay sixteen shillings every week."

  "That doesn't matter."

  She caught at a sob, "But to leave London--I can't do it, I can't."

  "But how?--Leave London?" Lewisham's face changed.

  "Oh! life is _hard_," she said. "I can't. They--they wouldn't let mestop in London."

  "What do you mean?"

  She explained if Lagune dismissed her she was to go into the countryto an aunt, a sister of Chaffery's who needed a companion. Chafferyinsisted upon that. "Companion they call it. I shall be just aservant--she has no servant. My mother cries when I talk to her. Shetells me she doesn't want me to go away from her. But she's afraid ofhim. 'Why don't you do what he wants?' she says."

  She sat staring in front of her at the gathering night. She spokeagain in an even tone.

  "I hate telling you these things. It is you ... If you didn't mind... But you make it all different. I could do it--if it wasn't foryou. I was ... I _was_ helping ... I had gone meaning to help ifanything went wrong at Mr. Lagune's. Yes--that night. No ... don't! Itwas too hard before to tell you. But I really did not feel it... until I saw you there. Then all at once I felt shabby and mean."

  "Well?" said Lewisham.

  "That's all. I may have done thought-reading, but I have never reallycheated since--_never_.... If you knew how hard it is ..."

  "I wish you had told me that before."

  "I couldn't. Before you came it was different. He used to make fun ofthe people--used to imitate Lagune and make me laugh. It seemed a sortof joke." She stopped abruptly. "Why did you ever come on with me? Itold you not to--you _know_ I did."

  She was near wailing. For a minute she was silent.

  "I can't go to his sister's," she cried. "I may be a coward--but Ican't."

  Pause. And then Lewisham saw his solution straight and clear. Suddenlyhis secret desire had become his manifest duty.

  "Look here," he said, not looking at her and pulling his moustache. "Iwon't have you doing any more of that damned cheating. You shan't soilyourself any more. And I won't have you leaving London."

  "But what am I to do?" Her voice went up.

  "Well--there is one thing you can do. If you dare."

  "What is it?"

  He made no answer for some seconds. Then he turned round and satlooking at her. Their eyes met....

  The grey of his mind began to colour. Her face was white and she waslooking at him, in fear and perplexity. A new tenderness for hersprang up in him--a new feeling. Hitherto he had loved and desired hersweetness and animation--but now she was white and weary-eyed. Hefelt as though he had forgotten her and suddenly remembered. A greatlonging came into his mind.

  "But what is the other thing I can do?"

  It was strangely hard to say. There came a peculiar sensation in histhroat and facial muscles, a nervous stress between laughing andcrying. All the world vanished before that great desire. And he wasafraid she would not dare, that she would not take him seriously.

  "What is it?" she said again.

  "Don't you see that we can marry?" he said, with the flood of hisresolution suddenly strong and steady. "Don't you see that is theonly thing for us? The dead lane we are in! You must come out of yourcheating, and I must come out of my ... cramming. And we--we mustmarry."

  He paused and then became eloquent. "The world is against us,against--us. To you it offers money to cheat--to be ignoble. For it_is_ ignoble! It offers you no honest way, only a miserabledrudgery. And it keeps you from me. And me too it bribes with thepromise of success--if I will desert you ... You don't know all ... Wemay have to wait for years--we may have to wait for ever, if we waituntil life is safe. We may be separated.... We may lose one anotheraltogether.... Let us fight against it. Why should we separate?Unless True Love is like the other things--an empty cant. This is theonly way. We two--who belong to one another."

  She looked at him, her face perplexed with this new idea, her heartbeating very fast. "We are so young," she said. "And how are we tolive? You get a guinea."

  "I can get more--I can earn more, I have thought it out. I have beenthinking of it these two days. I have been thinking what we coulddo. I have money."

  "You have money?"

  "Nearly a hundred pounds."

  "But we are so young--And my mother ..."

  "We won't ask her. We will ask no one. This is _our_ affair. Ethel!this is _our_ affair. It is not a question of ways and means--evenbefore this--I have thought ... Dear one!--_don't_ you love me?"

  She did not grasp his emotional quality. She looked at him withpuzzled eyes--still practical--making the suggestion arithmetical.

  "I could typewrite if I had a machine. I have heard--"

  "It's not a question of ways and means. Now. Ethel--I have longed--"

  He stopped. She looked at his
face, at his eyes now eager and eloquentwith the things that never shaped themselves into words.

  "_Dare_ you come with me?" he whispered.

  Suddenly the world opened out in reality to her as sometimes it hadopened out to her in wistful dreams. And she quailed before it. Shedropped her eyes from his. She became a fellow-conspirator. "But,how--?"

  "I will think how. Trust me! Surely we know each other now--Think! Wetwo--"

  "But I have never thought--"

  "I could get apartments for us both. It would be so easy. And think ofit--think--of what life would be!"

  "How can I?"

  "You will come?"

  She looked at him, startled. "You know," she said, "you must know Iwould like--I would love--"

  "You will come?"

  "But, dear--! Dear, if you _make_ me--"

  "Yes!" cried Lewisham triumphantly. "You will come." He glanced roundand his voice dropped. "Oh! my dearest! my dearest!..."

  His voice sank to an inaudible whisper. But his face was eloquent. Twogarrulous, home-going clerks passed opportunely to remind him that hisemotions were in a public place.