It is this boyish irresponsibility that may be Will's undoing! Mere high spirits... Before I could utter a word of warning, the music had changed again, every one was dancing and Will had jumped up to join them. I looked on—and marvelled; I had not seen any of these modern dances. And, when I could bear it no longer, I turned my back and began reading a paper...
That did in time have an effect; or perhaps they merely tired of their revels. But truly honestly, if I had not made a protest, no one would. Nothing was said, but there was what I can only call an atmosphere of guilt. Then Sir Adolphus discovered that dancing, too, was "unsociable" and enquired whether there was not something that we could all do...
Goodness me, are we so bankrupt in intelligence that we need to be given childish games to help us kill time? Has conversation died out in England? And you will remember that I was being invited to meet "artists" of every shape and size, who are never so happy as when they are sneering at the uncultured Philistines. These "artists", apparently, unless you encouraged them to dance or gave them rattles, would have sat down and cried. The others—including, I am sorry to say, Will, who was quite carried away by them—walked about saying very loudly "What I want is a drink." ...
And I had not had a word alone with Sir Adolphus...
"What about Consequences?," asked some one.
We live and learn, as they say. I have discovered from my experience that week-end that a certain class cannot make a suggestion or ask a question without introducing it with the words "What about." ... They put me on my guard now; I feel, when I hear them, that I know where I am... But can you imagine a greater confession of failure than to propose such a game to fifteen or twenty grown men and women, all—presumably—in possession of their faculties?
"What about Characters?," asked some one else. "That knocks spots off Consequences."
I give you their argot in all its native elegance. You surely would not have me paint the lily...
Before one had time to enquire or protest, one had been set at a table and furnished with a pencil while the rules were explained. A list of qualities, characteristics, whatever you like to call them, was written down; a name was chosen, and we had each of us to award marks. Thus: you might choose the Prime Minister and set out your qualities—statesmanship, force, honesty, courage, eloquence, amiability, good looks, personal charm and so on and so forth; each of us had ten marks for each quality, and, if you liked, you might give two for statesmanship and four for eloquence and ten for courage; then, when we had all expressed our opinion—it was in secret, and no one saw what marks any one else was allotting—the totals were added and read out. That was the man's "character." ...
An absurd game! But, as they were too unintelligent to talk and too disobliging to play or sing... Will was writing down the questions, and there seems no limit to the number that may be asked.