The Regent

by Arnold Bennett

  III

  She was sitting down in a cosy-corner, her feet on a footstool, andshe seemed a negligible physical quantity as he stood in front of her.This was she who had worsted the entire judicial and police system ofChicago, who spoke pentecostal tongues, who had circled the globe,and held enthralled--so journalists computed--more than a quarter ofa million of the inhabitants of Marseilles, Athens, Port Said, Candy,Calcutta, Bangkok, Hong Kong, Tokyo, Hawaii, San Francisco, Salt LakeCity, Denver, Chicago, and lastly, New York! This was she!

  "I understand we're going home on the same ship!" he was saying.

  She looked up at him, almost appealingly.

  "You won't see anything of me, though," she said.

  "Why not?"

  "Tell me," said she, not answering his question, "what do they sayof me, really, in England? I don't mean the newspapers. For instance,well--the Azure Society. Do you know it?"

  He nodded.

  "Tell me," she repeated.

  He related the episode of the telegram at the private firstperformance of "The Orient Pearl."

  She burst out in a torrent of irrelevant protest:

  "The New York police have not treated me right. It would have costthem nothing to arrest me and let me go. But they wouldn't. Every manin the force--you hear me, every man--has had strict orders to leaveme unmolested. It seems they resent my dealings with the police inChicago, where I brought about the dismissal of four officers, so theysay. And so I'm to be boycotted in this manner! Is that argument, Mr.Machin? Tell me. You're a man, but honestly, is it argument? Why, it'sjust as mean and despicable as brute force."

  "I agree with you," said Edward Henry, softly.

  "Do they really think it will harm the militant cause? Do they_really_ think so? No, it will only harm me. I made a mistake intactics. I trusted--fool!--to the chivalry of the United States. Imight have been arrested in a dozen cities, but I on purpose reservedmy last two arrests for Chicago and New York, for the sake of thesuperior advertisement, you see! I never dreamt--! Now it's too late.I am defeated! I shall just arrive in London on the hundredth day. Ishall have made speeches at all the meetings. But I shall be short ofone arrest. And the ten thousand pounds will be lost to the cause. Themilitants here--such as they are--are as disgusted as I am. But theyscorn me. And are they not right? Are they not right? There should beno quarter for the vanquished."

  "Miss Joy," said Edward Henry, "I've come over from London speciallyto see you. I want to make up the loss of that ten thousand pounds asfar as I can. I'll explain at once. I'm running a poetical play ofthe highest merit, called 'The Orient Pearl,' at my new theatre inPiccadilly Circus. If you will undertake a small part in it--a partof three words only--I'll pay you a record salary, sixty-six poundsthirteen and four-pence a word--two hundred pounds a week!"

  Isabel Joy jumped up.

  "Are you another of them, then?" she muttered. "I did think from thelook of you that you would know a gentlewoman when you met one!Did you imagine for the thousandth part of one second that I wouldstoop--"

  "Stoop!" exclaimed Edward Henry. "My theatre is not a music-hall--"

  "You want to make it into one!" she stopped him.

  "Good day to you," she said. "I must face those journalists again, Isuppose. Well, even they--! I came alone in order to avoid them. Butit was hopeless. Besides, is it my duty to avoid them--after all?"

  It was while passing through the door that she uttered the last words.

  "Where is she?" Seven Sachs inquired, entering.

  "Fled!" said Edward Henry.

  "Everything all right?"

  "Quite!"

  Mr. Rentoul Smiles came in.

  "Mr. Smiles," said Edward Henry, "did you ever photograph Sir JohnPilgrim?"

  "I did, on his last visit to New York. Here you are!"

  He pointed to his rendering of Sir John.

  "What did you think of him?"

  "A great actor, but a mountebank, sir."

  During the remainder of the afternoon Edward Henry saw the whole ofNew York, with bits of the Bronx and Yonkers in the distance, fromSeven Sachs's second automobile. In his third automobile he went tothe theatre and saw Seven Sachs act to a house of over two thousanddollars. And lastly he attended a supper and made a speech. But heinsisted upon passing the remainder of the night on the _Lithuania_.In the morning Isabel Joy came on board early and irrevocablydisappeared into her berth. And from that moment Edward Henry spentthe whole secret force of his individuality in fervently desiring the_Lithuania_ to start. At two o'clock, two hours late, she did start.Edward Henry's farewells to the admirable and hospitable Mr. Sachswere somewhat absent-minded, for already his heart was in London. Buthe had sufficient presence of mind to make certain final arrangements.

  "Keep him at least a week," said Edward Henry to Seven Sachs, "and Ishall be your debtor for ever and ever."

  He meant Carlo Trent, still bedridden.

  As from the receding ship he gazed in abstraction at the giganticinconvenient word--common to three languages--which is the firstthing seen by the arriving, and the last thing seen by the departing,visitor, he meditated:

  "The dearness of living in the United States has certainly beenexaggerated."

  For his total expenses, beyond the confines of the quay, amountedto one cent, disbursed to buy an evening paper which had contained abrief interview with himself concerning the future of the intellectualdrama in England. He had told the pressman that "The Orient Pearl"would run a hundred nights. Save for putting "The Orient Girl" insteadof "The Orient Pearl," and two hundred nights instead of one hundrednights, this interview was tolerably accurate.