The Complete Works of George Bernard Shaw. GEORGE BERNARD SHAW

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      CHAPTER X

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      It was a yearly custom of the Antient Orpheus Society to give what they called a soiree, to which they invited all the celebrated persons who were at all likely to come. These meetings took place at a house in Harley Street. Large gilt tickets, signed by three of the committee, were sent to any distinguished foreign composers who happened to be in London, as well as to the president of the Royal Academy, the musical Cabinet Minister (if there was one), the popular tragedian of the day, and a few other privileged persons. The rest had little cards of invitation from the members, who were each entitled to introduce a few guests.

      To the one of these entertainments next following the fantasia concert came a mob of amateurs, and a select body of pianists, singers, fiddlers, painters, actors and journalists. The noble vice-president of the society, assisted by two of the committee, received the guests in a broad corridor which had been made to resemble a miniature picture gallery. The guests were announced by two Swiss waiters, who were supposed to be able to pronounce foreign names properly because they could not pronounce English ones. Over one name on a gilt ticket, that of a young lady, they broke down; and she entered unannounced with her mother. After her came a member and his party of four: Mr and Mrs Phipson, Mr Charles Sutherland, Miss Sutherland, and Mr Adrian Herbert. Then other members with their parties.

      Then the last of the gilt tickets, Mr Owen Jack, who presented the novelty of a black silk handkerchief round the neck with the bow under his right ear.

      The company was crowded into two large rooms. There were many more guests than seats; and those who were weak or already weary stood round the walls or by the pianoforte and got what support they could by leaning on them. Mary Sutherland was seated on the end of a settee which supported four other persons, and would have accommodated two comfortably.

      “Well?” said Jack, coming behind the settee.

      “Well,” echoed Mary.*Why are you so late?”

      “For the usual reason — because women are so meddlesome. I could not find my studs, nor anything. I will endure Mother Simpson no longer. Next week I pack.”

      “So you have been threatening at any time within the last two years. I wish you would really leave Church Street.”

      “So you have been preaching anytime these fifty years. But I I must certainly do so: the woman is unendurable. There goes Charlie. He looks quite a man, like the rest of us, in his swallow-tail coat.”

      “He looks and is insufferably self-conscious. How crowded the rooms are: They ought to give their conversazione in St James’s Hall as well as their concerts.”

      “They never did and never will do anything as it ought to be done. Where’s your guide, philosopher, and friend?”

      “Whom do you mean, Mr Jack?”

      “What color is your dress?”

      “Sea green. Why?”

      “Nothing. I was admiring it just now.”

      “Does my guide, philosopher, et cetera, mean Mr Herbert?”

      “Yes, as you know perfectly well. You are not above giving yourself airs occasionally. Come, where is he? Why is he not by your side?”

      “I do not know, I am sure. He came in with us — Charlie?”

      “Well?” said Charlie, who was beginning to stand on his manhood. “What are you shouting at me for? Oh, how d’ye do, Mr Jack?”

      “Where is Adrian?” said Mary.

      “In the next room, of course.”

      “Why of course?” said Jack.

      “Because Miss Spitsneezncough — or whatever her unpronounceable name may be — is there. If I were you, Mary, I should look rather closely after Master Adrian’s attentions to the fair Polack.”

      “Hush. Pray do not talk so loud, Charlie.” Charlie turned on his heel, and strolled away, buttoning on a white glove with a negligent air.

      “Come into the next room,” said Jack.

      “Thank you. I prefer to stay where I am.”

      “Come, Mrs. Obstinate. I want to see the fair Polack too: I love her to distraction. You shall see Mister Herbert supplanting me in her affections.”

      “I shall stay with Mrs. Phipson. Do not let me detain you, if you wish to go.”

      “You are going to be ill-natured and spoil our evening, eh?”

      Mary suppressed an exclamation of impatience, and rose. “If you insist on it, of course I will come. Mrs. Phipson: I am going to walk through the rooms with Mr Jack.”

      Mrs Phipson, from mere habit, looked doubtful the propriety of the arrangement; but Jack walked off with Mary before anything further passed. In the next room they found a dense crowd and a very warm atmosphere. A violinist stood tuning his instrument near the pianoforte at which the young Polish lady sat. Close by was Adrian Herbert, looking intently at her.

      “Aha!” said Jack, following his companion’s look, “Mister Adrian’s thoughts have come to an anchor at last.” As he spoke, the music began.

      “What are they playing?” said Mary with affected indifference.

      “The Kreutzer Sonata.”

      “Oh! I am so glad.”

      “Are СКАЧАТЬ