"And what is the outcome of it all?," I ventured to ask, when the storm had abated.
"The outcome?" When Arthur is moved, he has a most irritating trick of repeating one's words. For thirty years I have tried to break him of it, but he is obdurate. "You'd better find some woman who'll marry the young scamp and keep him in order. The sooner the better. And I wish her joy of him."
When Will returned to Mount Street—he lived at his club until the wild clergyman returned to Morecambe—, I begged for enlightenment, but he would say nothing. For that, I am not ashamed to confess, I respected him; however badly this Molly Phenton (or "Molly Wanton," as I prefer to call her) had behaved, Will was too chivalrous to clear himself at the expense of a woman—and this though I could see that he was worried out of his mind. To a man, that is a law of the Medes and Persians...
"Son of mine, you must try to forget the whole thing," I said. "When you are older, I am afraid that some of your ideals will be modified; in future, no doubt, you will be more on your guard; but you will never be secure until you are yourself married."
"Oh, I'm open to any offer," said Will, exactly as poor Phyllida had done.
I was disquieted, for I could see clearly that he would indeed never feel secure from this girl until he was plighted to another woman. When once a man is "Morning-Posted", as he would say, all other fancied claims dissolve into thin air... The mere sight of the Morecambe post-mark in those days sent my heart into my mouth, and I could see that the strain of this persecution was telling on his nerves. "Ann Spenworth," I said to myself, "you must make up your mind; if he wants to marry Phyllida, you must not stand in the way." ...
All my life I have shrunk from the responsibility of interfering with the destiny of a boy and girl in love. The relationship is too delicate, the consequences are too grave. Before Phyllida came, I reviewed the position and decided to make no change.
"Your cousin," I told Will, "is coming to us for a few weeks, and I wish her to carry back pleasant memories of her visit. It is no secret to you that she has been disappointed through fancying herself in love with a man who could never have been a suitable husband for the Earl of Brackenbury's daughter. We have to be kind to her; and, if I know anything of girls, you will find that one who for the moment feels forlorn and uncared-for will repay the affection of him who can overcome her sense of loneliness and convince her that the whole world is not indifferent to her happiness. The labour and heat of the day," I said, "must inevitably fall on you. I cannot hope that your cousin will be amused by the society of a dull old woman like me; and I am unequal to the physical strain of accompanying her to dances and plays. If you will relieve me of this burden, you will be doing us both a kindness; and, though I cannot hope to repay you, I should like you to feel that you may draw on me for any expenses to which you may be put in the course of keeping her amused."
Some people—especially the really good-natured—feel that they owe themselves a grumble before ever consenting to do a kind act. Will is like that; unless you knew him well, you might think that he made difficulties before putting himself out in the slightest degree, but on this occasion he promised without demur. Perhaps he hoped that in playing cavalier to Phyllida he would turn his own thoughts from that unhappy episode at Morecambe; I prefer to think that, having now suffered himself, he was more sensitive to others' suffering... I did not enquire how they spent their time; they were cousins and could go about together without being spied on and whispered about; I made over the car to them, kept Will supplied with little sums to cover their amusements and asked no questions. From start to finish, he behaved splendidly. I am not being unkind if I say that Phyllida was sometimes a little difficile... You have noticed, I expect, that, when people of a certain class become possessed of a motor-car for the first time, their ambition is to see how fast they can drive it. Phyllida, I am afraid—and I was sorry to see it, though I could hardly hope for any other fruit of poor Ruth's upbringing; you may copy the mannerisms of others, but you can only give forth the breeding that is in you... I have lost the thread... Ah, yes! Phyllida, I am afraid, seeing a loyal and attentive cavalier always by her side... She tried my Will very hard; I sometimes felt that she was deliberately experimenting to see how much he would bear.
Among places of amusement it was always her choice that prevailed; Will has a weakness for these revues—"you can at least smoke there," he says—; Phyllida seemed to have developed into a remorseless blue-stocking. By day she wore him out at exhibitions... When he was not cooling his heels in a shop... At night he was expected to stay up till all hours to bring her home from dances. And so forth and so on...