The Complete Works of George Bernard Shaw. GEORGE BERNARD SHAW

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      “I quite agree with you — I mean about the Hoskyns, “ said Mary. And she changed the subject. But at bedtime, when she bade Lady Geraldine goodnight, she handed her Hoskyn’s letter, saying, “Read that; and tell me tomorrow what you think of it.”

      Lady Geraldine read the letter in bed, and lay awake, thinking of it for half an hour later than usual. In the morning, Mary, before leaving her room, received a note. It ran:

      “Sir John will come by the three train. We can chat afterwards — when he and Mr Conolly are settled here and off my mind. —

      G. P.

      Mary understood from this that she was not to approach the subject of Mr Hoskyn until Lady Geraldine invited her. At breakfast no allusion was made to him, except that once, when they chanced to look at one another, they laughed. But Lady Geraldine immediately after became graver than usual, and began to talk about the dairy farm.

      At three o’clock Sir John, heavy, double chinned and white haired arrived with a younger man in a grey suit.

      “Well, Mr Conolly,” said Sir John, as they passed under the Doric portico, “Here we are at last.”

      “At home,” said Conolly, contentedly. Lady Geraldine, who was there to welcome them, looked at him quickly, her hospitality gratified by the word. Then the thought of what what he had made of his own home hardened her heart against him. Her habitual candid manner and abundance of shrewd comment forsook her in his presence. She was silent and scrupulously polite, and by that Mary and Sir John knew that she was under the constraint of strong dislike to her guest.

      Later in the afternoon, Conolly asked permission to visit the farm, and inquired whether there was any running water in the neighborhood. Sir John proposed to accompany him; but he declined, on the ground that a prospecting engineer was the worst of bad company. When he was gone, Lady Geraldine’s bosom heaved with relief: she recovered her spirits, and presently followed Sir John to the library, where they had a long conversation together. Having concluded it to her satisfaction, she was leaving the room, when Sir John, who was seated at a writing table, coughed and said mildly:

      “ My dear.”

      Lady Geraldine closed the door again, and turned to listen.

      “I was thinking, as we came down together,” said Sir John slowly, smiling and combing his beard with his fingers, “that perhaps he might take a fancy that way.”

      “Who?”

      “Conolly, my dear.”

      “Stuff!” said Lady Geraldine sharply. Sir John smiled in deprecation. “At least,” she added, repenting, “I mean that he is married already.”

      “But he is free to marry again.”

      “Besides, he is not a gentleman.”

      “Well,” said Sir John, good humoredly, “I think we agreed just now that that did not matter.”

      “Yes, in Hoskyn’s case.”

      “Just so. Now Conolly is a man of greater culture than Hoskyn. Of course, it is only a notion of mine; and I dare say you are quite right if you disapprove of it. But since Mary is a girl with nice tastes — for art and so forth — I thought that perhaps she might not suit a thorough man of business. Hoskyn is only an Americanized commercial traveler.”

      “Conolly is an American too. But that has nothing to do with it. Conolly treated his wife badly: that is enough for me. I am certain he would make any woman miserable.”

      “If he really did.”

      “But, dear,” interrupted Lady Geraldine, with restrained impatience, “don’t you know he did? Everybody knows it.”

      Sir John shrugged himself placidly. “They say so,” he said. “I am afraid he was not all that he should have been to her. She was a charming creature — a great beauty, and, I thought, great rectitude. Dear me! You are right, as usual, Joldie, it would not suit.”

      Lady Geraldine left the library, and went to dress for dinner, disturbed by the possibility which Sir John had suggested. At dinner she watched Conolly and observed that he conversed chiefly with Mary, and seemed to know more than she on all her favorite subjects. Afterwards, when they were in the drawing room, Mary asked him whether he played the piano. As he replied in the affirmative, Lady Geraldine was compelled to ask him to favor her with a performance. At their request he played some of Jack’s music, much more calmly and accurately than Jack, himself played it. Then he made Mary sing, and was struck by her declamatory style, which jarred Lady Geraldine’s nerves nearly as much as it had Mrs Phipson’s. He next sang himself, Mary accompanying him, and at first soothed Lady Geraldine by his rich baritone voice, and then roused her suspicions by singing a serenade with great expression, which she privately set down as a coldblooded hypocrisy on his part. She at last persuaded herself that he was deliberately trying to engage the affections of Mary, with the intention of making her his second wife. Afterwards, he went out with Sir John, who often smoked cigars after dinner in the portico, and was fond of having a companion on such occasions.

      “Thank goodness!” said Lady Geraldine. “Bluebeard has gone; and we can have our chat at last.”

      “Why Bluebeard?” said Mary, laughing. “His beard is auburn. Has he been married more than once?”

      “No. But mark my words, he will marry at least half-a-dozen times; and he will kill all his wives, unless they run away from him, as poor Marian did. However, so long as he does not marry us, he can do as he likes. The question of the day is, what are you going to say to Mr John Hoskyn?”

      “Oh!” said Mary, her face clouding. “Let Mr John Hoskyn wait. I wish he were in America.”

      “And why?” said Lady Geraldine in an obstinate tone.

      “Because I want to enjoy my visit here and not be worried by his proposals.”

      “You can answer him in five minutes, and then enjoy your visit as much as if he actually were in America.”

      “That is true. Except that it will take much longer than five minutes to devise a letter that will not hurt his feelings too much.”

      “I could write a sensible letter for you that would not hurt his feelings at all.”

      “Will you? I shall be so much obliged. I hate refusing people.”

      “Mary: I hope you are not going to be foolish about this offer.”

      “Do you mean,” said Mary, astonished, “that you advise me to accept it?”

      “Most decidedly.”

      “But you said last night that he was not even a gentleman.”

      “Oh, a gentleman! Nonsense! What is a gentleman? Who is a gentleman nowadays? Is Mr Conolly, with whom you seem so well pleased” СКАЧАТЬ