The Man Who Did the Right Thing: A Romance
and making two blades of grass to grow where but one had grown before.
Several great Anglo-German financiers were seen in the City. The
specimens and the School of Mines' report thereon were left in their
hands: with the result that a small and select Anglo-German Syndicate
was formed to prospect in the northern part of German East Africa. Into
this pool Captain Brentham put L2,000 and was constituted for three
years head of the enterprise with a good salary and very large
discretion as to means and methods of developing the Happy Valley.
To Maud he next imparted his plans, and to his surprise they were
received with cordial approval.
"You're _quite_ right, Roger, I'm sure you've taken the road that will
most probably lead to happiness and fortune. Lucy is certain to fall in
with your scheme. She can stay on in England till her baby's weaned--it
was sweet of you both to call it after me--I was so certain you were
going to name it 'Sibyl'! Then she can place both the children with
their grandparents at Aldermaston and come out and join you. And what
is more, _I_ will come too! I should _love_ to!"
There now remained--he could not say "only remained," it was too
portentous a crisis--the final scene with Sibyl. He thought it over
many a night when he could not sleep, many a morning when he was going
through estate business with her and she was leaning unnecessarily over
his shoulder or furtively pinching the lobe of his ear. A written
good-bye, and then immediate departure, would be cruel, and Sibyl might
afterwards revenge herself on Lucy, left behind defenceless; or on
Maurice. There were, besides, points of business he must discuss with
her before leaving; at any rate give her the chance of asking questions
and receiving answers.
So he summoned up courage one morning and telegraphed he wished to see
her that afternoon in London. She was up for the "little season" which
follows Christmas.
He was shown into her library at 6A, Carlton House Terrace. She had
come in from skating at Princes, had changed into a wonderful tea-gown
and was lying on a long couch over which a magnificent tiger skin had
been thrown. A small inlaid Moorish table held a tea-tray.
_Sibyl_: "Have some tea? Tell him before he goes out" (referring to the
retreating footman).
_Roger_: "Thanks very much, no. I have had tea and I've got a lot to
tell you. So I don't want to lose time." (The door clicks to.)
_Sibyl_: "Well. You're very solemn. Draw up a chair. Come to give me
a month's warning? But to do that you ought to stand...."
_Roger_: "That's exactly what I _have_ come for...."
_Sibyl_: "Roger! _Don't_ make horrid jokes. You wouldn't be so
base--so--ungrateful--as that...."
_Roger_: "It isn't an act of baseness, that's certain; and as to
ingratitude, I think by going away I am doing the best thing altogether,
so far as _you_ are concerned. No!" (she is rising and pushing the
tea-table out of her way as a preparation for drama). "You must let me
explain myself--and _do_ let us discuss this _quietly_, not as though we
were acting a scene on the stage. Sibyl! Really the least said,
soonest mended. We are in an _impossible_ position.... I blame myself
more than you...." (Sibyl: "Thank you!") "I am a cad ... an _utter_
cad. I loathe myself sometimes so much I can't look at my face in the
glass or meet my wife's eyes. I am going back to Africa ... going out
of your life.... You must forget all about me ... and marry some decent
man." (His voice sounds strangled and he turns away to recover
himself.)
_Sibyl_: "It seems to me it is you that are becoming stagey. What does
all this mean? Has Lucy found out we've been lovers and made a fuss?
... Or is it money? Have you got into debt? _Do_ be explicit!"
_Roger_: "It's none of these things. I only mean I have out-stayed my
year with you, my trial year, and now I claim my liberty. I am going
once more to try for a career in Africa ... and..."
_Sibyl_ (white with anger): "Well, _go_ to Africa! I never wish to see
you again! _Go_! _Go_! _Go_!" (She half rises as if to expel him
with her hands, but he saves her the trouble, takes up his hat, gloves
and stick, walks out, closes the door of the library gently and lets
himself out of the house.)
The next day he leaves at the door a tin despatch box and a letter
containing its key. The box has amongst its contents the bunch of keys
he has used on the Estate, a great bundle of accounts, notes, and
suggestions for the immediate future. In the letter which accompanies
this box he tells Sibyl all about the arrangement he has made in her
Estate Office, advises her to keep on his brother Maurice who shows
signs of uncommon ability, but for some time yet to retain as Head Agent
Mr. Flower, provisionally engaged for a year, who is highly recommended
by the Institute of Land Agents. Both alike are now well acquainted
with the affairs of the Silchester Estate.... He asks her to be kind to
Lucy who will remove as soon as she is strong enough to Aldermaston and
meantime remains at the Lodge under Maud's care. Later on, when her
child is old enough to be left in the grand-parents' keeping, Lucy and
Maud will join him in East Africa. His address in London till he leaves
for Marseilles on February 28 will be Pardew's Hotel....
He will never forget her kindness ... _never_ ... at a critical time in
his life. And will not say "good-bye," because when he has "made good"
in Africa he will come back on a holiday and hope to find the Estate
flourishing and Silchester grown into a sturdy boy.
From what I knew of Sibyl I should say she at first took the breaking
off of their relations very hardly.... "Agony, rage, despair" ... much
pacing up and down the library.... Passionate letters half-written,
then torn up into small fragments and thrown into the fire. Then--for
she was a slave to her large household and magnificent mode of life--her
maid Sophie enters the library and reminds My Lady that she is due that
night to dine at the Italian Embassy. So Sibyl has to submit to be
coiffed, dressed, jewelled, and driven off in a brougham--a little late,
and that intrudes on her mind, because she has heard you should never be
late to an Ambassador's invitation, it is a sort of _lese-majeste_. But
to cope with the demands made on her, she has to force her heart-break
to the back of her mind and sustain her reputation for gay beauty,
daring expression, and alert wit--in French as well as English. There
was a Royalty there to whom she had to curtsey and with whom she had to
sustain a raillery, shot with malice, which required considerable
brain-concentration; for though the retorts must call forth further
bursts of laughter from the chorus that watched the duel, they must be
free from the slightest impertinence.
Roger's abrupt leave-taking only remained like a dull ache behind her
vivid consciousness of triumph, of celebrated men, bestarred with
orders, swathed with ribbons; of women sparkling with jewels and
rippling in silks; of a Prince who might "make" you with a smile or
"mar" you with a frown; of many enemies concealed as friends; of
wonderful music and exquisite food, for which she had no appetite. It
was not until she had re-entered her dressing-room to be unrobed that
she had once more the mind-space to reconsider Roger's farewell and what
life would mean to her without his constant companionship. Then,
foreseeing otherwise a ghastly night of turning things over and over in
her thoughts, she told Sophie she had bad neuralgia; and opening a tiny
little casquet with a tiny little gold key on her bangle she took from
it the materials for a sleeping draught, compounded them cautiously--she
was the last person in the world to commit suicide, even by
mistake--swallowed the dose and half an hour afterwards slipped into
oblivion.
The next morning she awoke with the inevitable headache, and the
heartache returned. But there was the breakfast tray to distract her
thoughts, and there were the morning letters. Among these was an
invitation to meet an Oriental Potentate in very select company--an
opportunity for display which she had coveted--and an invitation to dine
with the Archbishop of Canterbury and Mrs. Benson, which she had sought
for, as she wanted to allure the young Bensons into her circle of
"souls."
She then reflected, while having her hair brushed, that it might be just
as well that the breach with Roger had come before she had been in any
way tarnished by the breath of scandal. People had already chaffed her
about her handsome Land Agent. She would act so as to throw dust in
their eyes, and certainly not play the part of _la maitresse delaissee_.
Later on in the morning, therefore, she wrote to Lucy saying she had
accepted Roger's resignation with the _deepest_ regret, but would not
stand between him and his beloved Africa. Yet she hoped Lucy would not
_think_ of leaving the Lodge until she was perfectly strong. She also
told Roger's successor, Mr. Flower, she had confirmed the arrangement
Captain Brentham had outlined and requested him to call on her in the
following week.
In the afternoon of that day she issued the instruction "Not at home,"
intending to retire to her bedroom and have a good cry. But the full
indulgence in this luxury was baulked by the announcement of her cousin
Maud Brentham. Maud's name some while ago had been put on the short
list of people to whom "Not at home" did not apply.
Maud had really been asked to call by the timorous Roger to see how
Sibyl was "taking it." So Sibyl, divining this, received her
affectionately; and only complained of the excessive brilliance of the
ambassadorial party of the night before and the dead set made at her by
the Prince having reduced her this following afternoon to the condition
of a doll with the sawdust escaping from every seam. She talked quite
calmly of Roger's approaching departure and the arrangement of Lucy's
affairs after he had gone. "Why can't you and she transfer yourselves
from the Lodge to the House at Engledene and stay there indefinitely,
till you take ship for Africa and golden joys? Lucy's a god-send with
poor nervous, peevish little Clithy. I _must_ leave the child there a
good deal at present. He looks very peeky if he comes to London. And
at Easter I shall shut up this house and go off to travel for a long
time...."
"But not to East Africa, I trust...?" said Maud with some anxiety.
"Maud! You're a _toad_!"
When two very sad women came to Victoria on an appallingly cold and
foggy morning to take leave of Roger--who was departing for
Paris-Marseille to join his steamer--they were joined by a third,
accompanied by an aloof footman carrying wraps; and books for Roger's
solace on the journey. Sibyl put her arm round Lucy's waist, as they
were saying farewell; and Roger having kissed his wife--most
tenderly--and his sister--hesitated for one second, and then kissed
Sibyl too.
* * * * *
_From Roger Brentham to his Wife._
H.B.M. Agency,
Unguja,
_March_ 29, 1891.
[Very near the second anniversary of our happy marriage. Barely two
years married and already two children. I wonder how baby Maud is
getting on?]
DEAREST LUCE,--
I sent you a cable from Port Said saying "All right thus far." I hope
you got it? I arrived here by the French steamer yesterday.
I enjoyed the journey to Paris and Marseilles. But after we had left
that port for a very stormy Mediterranean I went through a beastly time.
I would have given everything I possessed--except you--to find myself
back at Engledene and with all these African plans undone. I have led