CHAPTER XVI.
Culchard feels slightly Uncomfortable.
Scene—Terrace and Grounds of the Grand Hôtel Villa d'Este, on Lake Como. Podbury and Culchard are walking up and down together.
Podb. Well, old chap, your resigning like that has made all the difference to me, I can tell you!
Culch. If I have succeeded in advancing your cause with Miss Prendergast, I am all the better pleased, of course.
Podb. You have, and no mistake. She's regularly taken me in hand, don't you know—she says I've no intelligent appreciation of Italian Art; and gad, I believe she's right there! But I'm pulling up—bound to teach you a lot, seeing all the old altar-pieces I do! And she gives me the right tips, don't you see; she's no end of a clever girl, so well-read and all that! But I say—about Miss Trotter? Don't want to be inquisitive, you know, but you don't seem to be much about with her.
Culch. I—er—the feelings I entertain towards Miss Trotter have suffered no change—quite the reverse, only—and I wish to impress this upon you, Podbury—it is undesirable, for—er—many reasons, to make my attentions—er—too conspicuous. I—I trust you have not alluded to the matter to—well, to Miss Prendergast, for example?
Podb. Not I, old fellow—got other things to talk about. But I don't quite see why——
Culch. You are not required to see. I don't wish it, that is all. I—er—think that should be sufficient.
Podb. Oh, all right, I'll keep dark. But she's bound to know sooner or later, now she and Miss Trotter have struck up such a friendship. And Hypatia will be awfully pleased about it—why shouldn't she, you know? ... I'm going to see if there's any one on the tennis-court, and get a game if I can. Ta-ta!
Culch. (alone). Podbury knows very little about women. If Hyp—Miss Prendergast—once found out why I renounced my suitorship, I should have very little peace, I know that—I've taken particular care not to betray my attachment to Maud. I'm afraid she's beginning to notice it, but I must be careful. I don't like this sudden intimacy between them—it makes things so very awkward. They've been sitting under that tree over there for the last half-hour, and goodness only knows what confidences they may have exchanged! I really must go up and put a stop to it, presently.
"BOUND TO TEACH YOU A LOT, SEEING ALL THE OLD ALTAR-PIECES I DO!"
UNDER THE TREE.
Hypatia. I only tell you all this, dearest, because I do think you have rather too low an opinion of men as a class, and I wanted to show you that I have met at least one man who was capable of a real and disinterested devotion.
Maud. Well, I allowed that was about your idea.
Hyp. And don't you recognize that it was very fine of him to give up everything for his friend's sake?
Maud. I guess it depends how much "everything" amounted to.
Hyp. (annoyed). I thought, darling, I had made it perfectly plain what a sacrifice it meant to him. I know how much he—I needn't tell you there are certain symptoms one cannot be deceived in.
Maud. No, I guess you needn't tell me that, love. And it was perfectly lovely of him to give you up, when he was under vow for you and all, sooner than stand in his friend's light—only I don't just see how that was going to help his friend any.
Hyp. Don't you really? Not when the friend was under vow for me too?
Maud. Well, Hypatia Prendergast! And how many admirers do you have around under vow, as a regular thing?
Hyp. There were only those two. Ruskin permits as many as seven at one time.
Maud. That's a vurry liberal allowance, too. I don't see how there'd be sufficient suitors to go round. But maybe each gentleman can be under vow for seven distinct girls, to make things sort of square now?
Hyp. Certainly not. The whole beauty of the idea lies in the unselfish and exclusive devotion of every knight to the same sovereign lady. In this case I happen to know that the—a—individual had never met his ideal until—
Maud. Until he met you? At Nuremberg, wasn't it? My! And what was his name? Do tell!
Hyp. You must not press me, dear Maud, for I cannot tell that—even to you.
Maud. I don't believe but what I could guess. But say, you didn't care any for him, or you'd never have let him go like that? I wouldn't. I should have suspected there was something behind!
Hyp. My feelings towards him were purely potential. I did him the simple justice to believe that his self-abnegation was sincere. But, with your practical, cynical little mind, darling, you are hardly capable of—excuse me for saying so—of appreciating the real value and meaning of such magnanimity!
Maud. Oh, I guess I am, though. Why, here's Mr. Culchard coming along. Well, Mr. Culchard?
Culch. I—ah—appear to have interrupted a highly interesting conversation?
Maud. Well, we were having a little discussion, and I guess you're in time to give the casting vote—Hypatia, you want to keep just where you are, do you hear? I mean you should listen to Mr. Culchard's opinion.
Culch. (flattered). Which I shall be delighted to give, if you will put me in possession of the—er—facts.
Maud. Well, these are the—er—facts. There were two gentlemen under vow—maybe you'll understand the working of that arrangement better than I do?—under vow for the same young lady. [Hypatia Prendergast, sit still, or I declare I'll pinch you!] One of them comes up and tells her that he's arrived at the conclusion the other admirer is the better man, and, being a friend of his, he ought to retire in his favour, and he does it, too, right away. Now I say that isn't natural—he'd some other motive. Miss Prendergast here will have it he was one of those noble unselfish natures that deserve they should be stuffed for a dime museum. What's your opinion now?
Culch. (perspiring freely). Why—er—really, on so delicate a matter, I—I—— [He maunders.
Hyp. Maud, why will you be so headstrong! (In a rapid whisper.) Can't you see ... can't you guess?...
Maud. I guess I want to make sure Mr. Culchard isn't that kind of magnanimous man himself. I shouldn't want him to renounce me!
Hyp. Maud! You might at least wait until Mr. Culchard has——
Maud. Oh, but he did—weeks ago, at Bingen. And at Lugano, too, the other day, he spoke out tolerable plain. I guess he didn't wish any secret made about it—did you, Mr. Culchard?
Culch. I—ah—this conversation is rather.... If you'll excuse me—— [Escapes with as much dignity as he can command.
Maud. Well, my dear,—that's the sort of self-denying hairpin he is! What do you think of him now?
Hyp. I do not think so highly of him, I confess. His renunciation was evidently less prompted by consideration for his friend than by a recollection—tardy enough, I am afraid—of the duty which bound him to you, dearest. But if you had seen and heard him, as I did, you would not have doubted the reality of the sacrifice, whatever the true reason may have been. For myself, I am conscious of neither anger nor sorrow—my heart, as I told you, was never really affected. But what must it be to you, darling!
Maud. Well, I believe I'm more amused than anything.
Hyp. Amused! But surely you don't mean to have anything more to do with him?
Maud. My dear girl, I intend to have considerable more to do with him before I'm through. He's under vow for me now, anyway, and I don't mean he should forget it, either. He's my monkey, and he's got to jump around pretty lively, at the end of a tolerable short chain, too. And I guess, if it comes to renouncing, all the magnanimity's going to be on my side this time!
IN AN AVENUE.
Culch. (to himself, as he walks hurriedly on). I only just saved myself in time. I don't think Maud noticed anything—she couldn't have been so innocent and indifferent if she had.... And Hypatia won't enlighten her any further now—after what she knows. It's rather a relief that she does know.... She took it very well, poor girl—very well. I expect she is really beginning to put up with Podbury—I'm sure I hope so, sincerely!