The Complete Works of George Bernard Shaw. GEORGE BERNARD SHAW

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      CHAPTER I

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      One fine afternoon during the Easter holidays, Kensington Gardens were in their freshest spring green, and the steps of the Albert Memorial dotted with country visitors, who alternately conned their guidebooks and stared up at the golden gentleman under the shrine, trying to reconcile the reality with the description, whilst their Cockney friends, indifferent to shrine and statue, gazed idly at the fashionable drive below. One group in particular was composed of an old gentleman intent upon the Memorial, a young lady intent upon her guidebook, and a young gentleman intent upon the young lady. She looked a woman of force and intelligence; and her boldly curved nose and chin, elastic step, upright carriage, resolute bearing, and thick black hair, secured at the base of the neck by a broad crimson ribbon, made those whom her appearance pleased think her strikingly handsome. The rest thought her strikingly ugly; but she would perhaps have forgiven them for the sake of the implied admission that she was at least not commonplace ; for her costume, consisting of an ample black cloak lined with white fur, and a broad hat with red feather and underbrim of sea green silk, was of the sort affected by women who strenuously cultivate themselves, and insist upon their individuality. She was not at all like her father, the grey-haired gentleman who, scanning the Memorial with eager watery eyes, was uttering occasional ejaculations of wonder at the sum it must have cost. The younger man, who might have been thirty or thereabout, was slight and of moderate stature. His fine hair, of a pale golden color, already turning to a silvery brown, curled delicately over his temples, where it was beginning to wear away. A short beard set off his features, which were those of a man of exceptional sensitiveness and refinement. He was the Londoner of the party; and he waited with devoted patience whilst his companions satisfied their curiosity. It was pleasant to watch them, for he was not gloating over her, nor she too conscious that she was making the sunshine brighter for him; and yet they were quite evidently young lovers, and as happy as people at their age know how to be.

      At last the old gentleman’s appetite for the Memorial yielded to the fatigue of standing on the stone steps and looking upwards. He proposed that they should find a seat and examine the edifice from a little distance.

      “I think I see a bench down there with only one person on it, Mary,” he said, as they descended the steps at the west side. “Can you see whether he is respectable?”

      The young lady, who was shortsighted, placed a pair of glasses on her salient nose, lifted her chin, and deliberately examined the person on the bench. He was a short, thick-chested young man, in an old creased frock coat, with a worn-out hat and no linen visible. His skin, pitted by smallpox, seemed grained with black, as though he had been lately in a coal mine, and had not yet succeeded in toweling the coal-dust from his pores. He sat with his arms folded, staring at the ground before him. One hand was concealed under his arm: the other displayed itself, thick in the palm, with short fingers, and nails bitten to the quick. He was clean shaven, and had a rugged, resolute mouth, a short nose, marked nostrils, dark eyes, and black hair, which curled over his low, broad forehead.

      “He is certainly not a handsome man,” said the lady; “but he will do us no harm, I suppose?”

      “Of course not,” said the younger gentleman seriously. “But I can get some chairs, if you prefer them.”

      “Nonsense! I was only joking.” As she spoke, the man on the bench looked up at her; and the moment she saw his eyes, she began to stand in some awe of him. His vague stare changed to a keen scrutiny, which she returned hardily. Then he looked for a moment at her dress; glanced at her companions; and relapsed into his former attitude.

      The bench accommodated four persons easily. The old gentleman sat at the unoccupied end, next his daughter. Their friend placed himself between her and the man, at whom she presently stole another look. His attention was again aroused: this time he was looking at a child who was eating an apple near him. His expression gave the lady an uncomfortable sensation. The child, too, caught sight of him, and stopped eating to regard him mistrustfully. He smiled with grim good humor, and turned his eyes to the gravel once more.

      “It is certainly a magnificent piece of work, Herbert,” said the old gentleman. “To you, as an artist, it must be a treat indeed. I don’t know enough about art to appreciate it properly. Bless us! And are all those knobs made of precious stones?”

      “More or less precious: yes, I believe so, Mr. Sutherland,” said Herbert, smiling.

      “I must come and look at it again,” said Mr. Sutherland, turning from the memorial, and putting his spectacles on the bench beside him. “It is quite a study. I wish I had this business of Charlie’s off my mind.”

      “You will find a tutor for him without any difficulty,” said Herbert. “There are hundreds to choose from in London.”

      “Yes; but if there were a thousand, Charlie would find a new objection to every one of them. You see the difficulty is the music.”

      Herbert, incommoded by a sudden movement of the strange man, got a little nearer to Mary, and replied, “I do not think the music ought to present much difficulty. Many young men qualifying for holy orders are very glad to obtain private tutorships; СКАЧАТЬ