CHAPTER XXIV
A WOMAN'S VIEW
Sydney Atherton has asked me to be his wife. It is not only annoying;worse, it is absurd.
This is the result of Paul's wish that our engagement should not beannounced. He is afraid of papa;--not really, but for the moment. Theatmosphere of the House is charged with electricity. Party feeling runshigh. They are at each other, hammer and tongs, about this AgriculturalAmendment Act. The strain on Paul is tremendous. I am beginning to feelpositively concerned. Little things which I have noticed about himlately convince me that he is being overwrought. I suspect him ofhaving sleepless nights. The amount of work which he has been gettingthrough lately has been too much for any single human being, I care notwho he is. He himself admits that he shall be glad when the session isat an end. So shall I.
In the meantime, it is his desire that nothing shall be said about ourengagement until the House rises. It is reasonable enough. Papa is sureto be violent,--lately, the barest allusion to Paul's name has beenenough to make him explode. When the discovery does come, he will beunmanageable,--I foresee it clearly. From little incidents which havehappened recently I predict the worst. He will be capable of making ascene within the precincts of the House. And, as Paul says, there issome truth in the saying that the last straw breaks the camel's back.He will be better able to face papa's wild wrath when the House hasrisen.
So the news is to bide a wee. Of course Paul is right. And what hewishes I wish too. Still, it is not all such plain sailing for me as heperhaps thinks. The domestic atmosphere is almost as electrical as thatin the House. Papa is like the terrier who scents a rat,--he is alwayssniffing the air. He has not actually forbidden me to speak toPaul,--his courage is not quite at the sticking point; but he isconstantly making uncomfortable allusions to persons who number amongtheir acquaintance 'political adventurers,' 'grasping carpet-baggers,''Radical riff-raff,' and that kind of thing. Sometimes I venture tocall my soul my own; but such a tempest invariably follows that Ibecome discreet again as soon as I possibly can. So, as a rule, Isuffer in silence.
Still, I would with all my heart that the concealment were at an end.No one need imagine that I am ashamed of being about to marryPaul,--papa least of all. On the contrary, I am as proud of it as awoman can be. Sometimes, when he has said or done something unusuallywonderful, I fear that my pride will out,--I do feel it so strongwithin me. I should be delighted to have a trial of strength with papa;anywhere, at any time,--I should not be so rude to him as he would beto me. At the bottom of his heart papa knows that I am the moresensible of the two; after a pitched battle or so he would understandit better still. I know papa! I have not been his daughter for allthese years in vain. I feel like hot-blooded soldiers must feel, who,burning to attack the enemy in the open field, are ordered to skulkbehind hedges, and be shot at.
One result is that Sydney has actually made a proposal of marriage,--heof all people! It is too comical. The best of it was that he tookhimself quite seriously. I do not know how many times he has confidedto me the sufferings which he has endured for love of other women--someof them, I am sorry to say, decent married women too; but this is thefirst occasion on which the theme has been a personal one. He was sofrantic, as he is wont to be, that, to calm him, I told him aboutPaul,--which, under the circumstances, to him I felt myself at libertyto do. In return, he was melodramatic; hinting darkly at I know notwhat, I was almost cross with him.
He is a curious person, Sydney Atherton. I suppose it is because I haveknown him all my life, and have always looked upon him, in cases ofnecessity, as a capital substitute for a brother, that I criticise himwith so much frankness. In some respects, he is a genius; in others--Iwill not write fool, for that he never is, though he has often donesome extremely foolish things. The fame of his inventions is in themouths of all men; though the half of them has never been told. He isthe most extraordinary mixture. The things which most people would liketo have proclaimed in the street, he keeps tightly locked in his ownbosom; while those which the same persons would be only too glad toconceal, he shouts from the roofs. A very famous man once told me thatif Mr Atherton chose to become a specialist, to take up one branch ofinquiry, and devote his life to it, his fame, before he died, wouldbridge the spheres. But sticking to one thing is not in Sydney's lineat all. He prefers, like the bee, to roam from flower to flower.
As for his being in love with me, it is ridiculous. He is as much inlove with the moon. I cannot think what has put the idea into his head.Some girl must have been ill-using him, or he imagines that she has.The girl whom he ought to marry, and whom he ultimately will marry, isDora Grayling. She is young, charming, immensely rich, and over headand ears in love with him;--if she were not, then he would be over headand ears in love with her. I believe he is very near it as itis,--sometimes he is so very rude to her. It is a characteristic ofSydney's, that he is apt to be rude to a girl whom he really likes. Asfor Dora, I suspect she dreams of him. He is tall, straight, veryhandsome, with a big moustache, and the most extraordinary eyes;--Ifancy that those eyes of his have as much to do with Dora's state asanything. I have heard it said that he possesses the hypnotic power toan unusual degree, and that, if he chose to exercise it, he mightbecome a danger to society. I believe he has hypnotised Dora.
He makes an excellent brother. I have gone to him, many and many atime, for help,--and some excellent advice I have received. I daresay Ishall consult him still. There are matters of which one would hardlydare to talk to Paul. In all things he is the great man. He couldhardly condescend to chiffons. Now Sydney can and does. When he is inthe mood, on the vital subject of trimmings a woman could not appeal toa sounder authority. I tell him, if he had been a dressmaker, he wouldhave been magnificent. I am sure he would.
The Beetle: A Mystery Page 24