No. XI.
SCENE—A Balcony outside the Musik-Saal of the Insel Hotel, Constance. Miss PRENDERGAST is seated; CULCHARD is leaning against the railing close by. It is about nine; the moon has risen, big and yellow, behind the mountains at the further end of the lake; small black boats are shooting in and out of her track upon the water; the beat of the steamers' paddles is heard as they come into harbour. CULCHARD has just proposed.
Miss Prendergast (after a silence). I have always felt very strongly with RUSKIN, that no girl should have the cruelty to refuse a proposal—
Culchard (with alacrity). RUSKIN is always so right. And—er—where there is such complete sympathy in tastes and ideas, as I venture to think exists in our own case, the cruelty would—
Miss P. Pray allow me to finish! "Refuse a proposal at once" is RUSKIN's expression. He also says (if my memory does not betray me), that "no lover should have the insolence to think of being accepted at once." You will find the passage somewhere in "Fors."
Culch. (whose jaw has visibly fallen). I cannot say I recall it at this moment. Does he hold that a lover should expect to be accepted by—er—instalments, because, if so—
Miss P. I think I can quote his exact words. "If she simply doesn't like him, she may send him away for seven years—"
Culch. (stiffly). No doubt that course is open to her. But why seven, and where is he expected to go?
Miss P. (continuing calmly). "He vowing to live on cresses and wear sackcloth meanwhile, or the like penance."
Culch. I feel bound to state at once that, in my own case, my position at Somerset House would render anything of that sort utterly impracticable.
Miss P. Wait, please,—you are so impetuous. "If she likes him a little,"—(CULCHARD's brow relaxes)—"or thinks she might come to like him in time, she may let him stay near her,"—(CULCHARD makes a movement of relief and gratitude)—"putting him always on sharp trial, and requiring, figuratively, as many lion-skins or giants' heads as she thinks herself worth."
Culch. (grimly). "Figuratively" is a distinct concession on RUSKIN's part. Still, I should be glad to know—
Miss P. If you will have a little more patience, I will make myself clear. I have always determined that when the—ah—occasion presented itself, I would deal with it on Ruskinian principles. I propose in your case—presuming of course that you are willing to be under vow for me—to adopt a middle course.
Culch. You are extremely good. And what precise form of—er—penance did you think of?
Miss P. The trial I impose is, that you leave Constance to-morrow—with Mr. PODBURY.
Culch. (firmly). If you expect me to travel for seven years with him, permit me to mention that I simply cannot do it. My leave expires in three weeks.
Miss P. I mentioned no term, I believe. Long before three weeks are over we shall meet again, and I shall be able to see how you have borne the test. I wish you to correct, if possible, a certain intolerance in your attitude towards Mr. PODBURY. Do you accept this probation, or not?
Culch. I—ah—suppose I have no choice. But you really must allow me to say that it is not precisely the reception I anticipated. Still, in your service, I am willing to endure even PODBURY—for a strictly limited period; that I do stipulate for.
Miss P. That, as I have already said, is quite understood. Now go and arrange with Mr. PODBURY.
Culch. (to himself, as he retires). It is most unsatisfactory; but at least PODBURY is disposed of!
The same Scene, a quarter of an hour later. PODBURY and Miss PRENDERGAST.
Podbury (with a very long face). No, I say, though! RUSKIN doesn't say all that?
Miss P. I am not in the habit of misquoting. If you wish to verify the quotation, however, I daresay I could find you the reference in Fors Clavigera.
Podb. (ruefully). Thanks—I won't trouble you. Only it does seem rather rough on fellows, don't you know. If everyone went on his plan—well, there wouldn't be many marriages! Still, I never thought you'd say "Yes" right off. It's like my cheek, I know, to ask you at all; you're so awfully clever and that. And if there's a chance for me, I'm game for anything in the way of a trial. Don't make it stiffer than you can help, that's all!
Miss P. All I ask of you is to leave me for a short time, and go and travel with Mr. CULCHARD again.
Podb. Oh, I say, Miss PRENDERGAST, you know. Make it something else. Do!
Miss P. That is the task I require, and I can accept no other. It is nothing, after all, but what you came out here to do.
Podb. I didn't know him then, you see. And what made me agree to come away with him at all is beyond me. It was all HUGHIE ROSE's doing—he said we should get on together like blazes. So we have—very like blazes!
Miss P. Never mind that. Are you willing to accept the trial or not?
Podb. If you only knew what he's like when he's nasty, you'd let me off—you would, really. But there, to please you, I'll do it. I'll stand him as long as ever I can—'pon my honour I will. Only you'll make it up to me afterwards, won't you now?
Miss P. I will make no promises—a true knight should expect no reward for his service, Mr. PODBURY.
Podb. (blankly). Shouldn't he? I'm a little new to the business, you see, and it does strike me—but never mind. When am I to trot him off?
Miss P. As soon as you can induce him to go—to-morrow, if possible.
Podb. I don't believe he'll go, you know, for one thing!
Miss P. (demurely). I think you will find him open to persuasion. But go and try, Mr. PODBURY.
Podb. (to himself, as he withdraws). Well, I've let myself in for a nice thing! Rummest way of treating a proposal I ever heard of. I should just like to tell that fellow RUSKIN what I think of his precious ideas. But there's one thing, though—she can't care about CULCHARD, or she wouldn't want him carted off like this.... Hooray, I never thought of that before! Why, there he is, dodging about to find out how I've got on. I'll tackle him straight off.
[CULCHARD and PODBURY meet at the head of the staircase, and speak at the same moment.
| Culch. Er—PODBURY it has occurred to me that we might— | } | leave this place to-morrow! |
| Podb. I say, CULCHARD, we really ought to— |
Podb. Hullo! we're both of one mind for once, eh? (To himself.) Poor old beggar! Got the sack! That explains a lot. Well, I won't tell him anything about this business just now.
Culch. So it appears. (To himself.) (Had his quietus, evidently. Ah, well, I won't exult over him.
[They go off together to consult a time-table.
Miss. P. (on the balcony, musing). Poor fellows! I couldn't very well say anything more definite at present. By the time I see them again, I may understand my own heart better. Really, it is rather an exciting sensation, having two suitors under vow and doing penance at the same time—and all for my sake! I hope, though, they won't mention it to one another—or to BOB. BOB does not understand these things, and he might— But, after all, there are only two of them. And RUSKIN distinctly says that every girl who is worth anything ought always to have half-a-dozen or so. Two is really quite moderate.