“A man who begins to think his virtue shabby is a man who cannot afford to pay his tailor—the priest.”
“Never confess to yourself any cause for shame, or you will soon find your feet in the mire.”
“Men may regret; only women and fools repent.”
“Consciousness is life; therefore a man ought to suffer himself to be conscious only of pleasant things.”
And my Lord of Gore was having a wider consciousness forced upon him in the narrow world of that ruined house. And where were the studied pleasantries of consciousness? A fine gentleman feeding on salt beef and onions, scraping his own fire together, and living in devout horror of a prosaic thing called death. So much so that he was possessed by a species of “morsomania” grim enough to prevent him seeing the cynically comic side of his own condition.
XLI
A man in love is not supposed to think of his lady’s clothes, but only of the brightness of her eyes and the beauty of her body, the way her lips curve when she smiles, and how she may look coy or mischievous, or sad and silent with some mysterious desire. Yet there is a delight in practical things when shoes are for certain feet, and the petticoats to hide a certain comely pair of ankles. John Gore had inquired of Mrs. Winnie as to the shops in Battle Town, and qualified her enthusiasm somewhat to himself when she vowed that Mr. Bannister’s mercery and haberdashery shop might have served the Queen.
Chris Jennifer was riding into Battle that week, for the wind had backed into the southwest, and the snow had thawed in a day. And John Gore set forward to ride with Mr. Jennifer, Mrs. Winnie whispering to him that her man could carry a power of things, being accustomed to suffer all manner of commissions. For Barbara had nothing but the clothes she stood in, and was wearing a pair of Mrs. Winnie’s shoes when she went down the garden path to watch John Gore mount for Battle. Mrs. Jennifer was always taking her man by the coat-tails when these “young things” were about together. Poor Christopher had no peace in his own house, being ordered out of the way wherever he might go, and told that he was a blind booby for not keeping the corner of an eye open, and for not thrashing those lazy, gossiping rogues—his men—for loitering and hanging about the buildings. Yet Christopher took it all very patiently, going out to the stable to smoke his pipe and teach son William to make “jumping-jacks” and bird snares and pop-guns out of elder wood.
Mr. Jennifer and John Gore came to Battle Town that day and pulled up outside Mr. Bannister’s shop, where Mill Street ran toward Mountjoy and The Mills. Chris Jennifer had business at the farrier’s and the grocer’s, so he left John Gore to his own affairs, promising to be back in half an hour in order to help load the baggage. John Gore called a boy to hold his horse, and went into Mr. Bannister’s shop with the grim air of an Englishman who is tempted to feel shy.
A young woman came forward with ribbons in her cap, and a saucy, giggling look that seemed to rally the gentleman on his surroundings. John Gore had no use for her at all. He looked round the shop and saw no one else but a little old woman carding wool.