Название: The Essential Elinor Glyn Collection
Автор: Glyn Elinor
Издательство: Ingram
Жанр: Контркультура
isbn: 9781456613730
isbn:
Mr. Hanbury-Green had not a sufficiently strong answer ready, so remained loftily silent, while John Derringham went on:
"We obscure every issue nowadays by a sickly sentiment and this craze for words to prove black is white in order to please the mediocrity. If we could only look facts in the face we should see that the idea of equality of all men is perfectly ridiculous. No ancient republic ever worked, even the most purely democratic, like the Athenian, of the fifth and fourth centuries B.C., without an unconsidered and unrepresented population of slaves. You know your Aristotle, Mr. Green," he went on blandly, "and you will remember his admirable remark about some men being born masters and others born to obey, and that, if only Nature had made the difference in their mental capacities as apparent to the eye as is the difference in their bodies, everyone would recognize this at once."
His voice grew intense: the subject interested him.
"You may say," he went on, "that Aristotle, Plato and Socrates accepted the fact of slavery without protest because it was an institution from time immemorial, and so the idea did not appear to them so repugnant. But do you mean to tell me that such consummate geniuses, such unbiased glorious brains would have glossed over any idea, or under-considered any point in their schemes for the advancement of man? They accepted slavery because they saw that it was the only possible way to make a republic work, where all citizens might aspire to be equal."
"You would advocate slavery then? Oh! Mr. Derringham, how dreadful of you!" exclaimed Mrs. Cricklander, half playfully.
"Not in the least," he returned, still allowing some feeling to stay in his voice. "I would only have it recognized that there must be some class in my ideal republic who will do the duties of the slaves of old. I would have it so arranged that they should occupy this class only when they had shown they were unfit for anything higher, and I would also arrange it that the moment they appeared capable of rising out of it there should be no bar to their doing so. It is the cry of our all being equal because we have two arms and two legs and a head in common, not counting any mental endowment, which is utter trash and hypocrisy. But when these agitators are shouting for the people's rights and inciting poor ignorant wretches to revolt, they never suggest that the lowest of them is not perfectly suited to the highest position! Those occupying any station above the lowest have got there merely by superior luck and favoritism, not merit--that is what they preach."
Mr. Hanbury-Green was just going to answer with a biting attack when Miss Cora Lutworth's rather high voice was heard interrupting from a tall old chair in which she had perched herself.
"Why, Mr. Derringham, we all want to be something very grand," she laughed merrily. "I hate common people and love English dukes and duchesses--don't you, Cis?" and she looked at Mrs. Cricklander, who was standing in a position of much stately grace by the lofty mantelpiece.
"You sweet girl!" exclaimed Lord Freynault, who was next to her. "I cannot get any nearer to those favored folk than my uncle's being a duke, but won't you let me in for some of your friendly feelings on that account?"
"I certainly will," she answered archly, "because I like the way you look. I like how your hair is brushed, and how your clothes are cut, and your being nice and clean and outdoor--and long and thin--" and then she whispered--"ever so much better than Mr. Hanbury-Green's thick appearance. He may be as clever as clever, but he is common and climbing up, and I like best the people who are there!"
John Derringham now addressed himself exclusively to his hostess.
"I agree with the point of view of the old Greeks--they were so full of common sense. Balance and harmony in everything was their aim. A beautiful body, for instance, should be the correlative of a beautiful soul. Therefore in general their athletics were not pursued, as are ours, for mere pleasure and sport, and because we like to feel fit. They did not systematically exercise just to wrest from some rival the prize in the games, either. Their care of the body had a far higher and nobler end: to bring it into harmony as a dwelling-place for a noble soul."
"How divine!" said Mrs. Cricklander.
John Derringham went on:
"You remember Plato upon the subject--his reluctance to admit that a physical defect must sometimes be overlooked. But nowadays everything is distorted by ridiculous humanitarian nonsense. With our wonderful inventions, our increasing knowledge of sanitation and science, and the possibilities and limitations of the human body, what glorious people we should become if we could choke this double-headed hydra of rotten sentiment and exalt common sense!"
But now Mrs. Cricklander saw that a storm was gathering upon Mr. Hanbury-Green's brow and, admirable hostess that she was, she decided to smooth the troubled waters, so she went across the room to the piano, and began to play a seductive valse, while John Derringham followed her and leaned upon the lid, and tried to feel as devoted as he looked.
"Why cannot we go to-morrow and see your old master?" she asked, as her white fingers, with their one or two superb rings, glided over the keys. "I feel an unaccountable desire to become acquainted with him. I should love to see what the person was like who molded you when you were a boy."
"Mr. Carlyon is a wonderful-looking old man," John Derringham returned. "Someone--who knows him very well--described him long ago as 'Cheiron.' You will see how apt it is when you meet."
Mrs. Cricklander crashed some chords. She had never heard of this Cheiron. She felt vaguely that Arabella had told her of some classical or mythological personage of some such sounding name, a boatman of sorts--but she dare not risk a statement, so she went on with the point she wished to gain, which was to investigate at once Mr. Carlyon's surroundings and discover, if possible, whether there was any influence there that would be inimical to herself.
"I dare say we can go to-morrow," John Derringham said. "You and I might walk over--and perhaps Miss Lutworth and Freynault. We can't go a large party, the house is so small."
"Why cannot you and I go alone, then?" she asked.
"Oh, I think he would like to see Miss Cora. She is such a charming girl," and John Derringham looked over to where she sat, still dangling a pair of blue satin feet from the high chair. And inwardly Mrs. Cricklander burned.
Cora was a second cousin of her divorced husband, and belonged by birth to that inner cream of New York society which she hated in her heart. Never, never again would she be so foolish as to chance crossing swords with one of her own nation. But aloud she acquiesced blandly and arranged that they should start at eleven o'clock.
"Perhaps we could persuade him to return to lunch with us?" she hazarded. "And that would be so nice."
"You must do what you can with him," John Derringham said. "I have prepared him to find you beautiful--as you are."
"You say lovely things about me behind my back, then?" she laughed. "Now he will be disappointed!"
"Yes, I admit it was a _btse_--but, being my real thoughts, they slipped out when I was there to-day. You will have to be extra charming to substantiate them."
Before Mrs. СКАЧАТЬ