A Laodicean

Chapter 3

As he had promised, De Stancy made use the next day of the

coveted permission that had been brought about by the

ingenious Dare. Dare's timely suggestion of tendering

assistance had the practical result of relieving the other of

all necessity for occupying his time with the proceeding,

further than to bestow a perfunctory superintendence now and

then, to give a colour to his regular presence in the

fortress, the actual work of taking copies being carried on by

the younger man.

The weather was frequently wet during these operations, and

Paula, Miss De Stancy, and her brother, were often in the

house whole mornings together. By constant urging and coaxing

the latter would induce his gentle sister, much against her

conscience, to leave him opportunities for speaking to Paula

alone. It was mostly before some print or painting that these

conversations occurred, while De Stancy was ostensibly

occupied with its merits, or in giving directions to his

photographer how to proceed. As soon as the dialogue began,

the latter would withdraw out of earshot, leaving Paula to

imagine him the most deferential young artist in the world.

'You will soon possess duplicates of the whole gallery,' she

said on one of these occasions, examining some curled sheets

which Dare had printed off from the negatives.

'No,' said the soldier. 'I shall not have patience to go on.

I get ill-humoured and indifferent, and then leave off.'

'Why ill-humoured?'

'I scarcely know--more than that I acquire a general sense of

my own family's want of merit through seeing how meritorious

the people are around me. I see them happy and thriving

without any necessity for me at all; and then I regard these

canvas grandfathers and grandmothers, and ask, "Why was a line

so antiquated and out of date prolonged till now?"'

She chid him good-naturedly for such views. 'They will do you

an injury,' she declared. 'Do spare yourself, Captain De

Stancy!'

De Stancy shook his head as he turned the painting before him

a little further to the light.

'But, do you know,' said Paula, 'that notion of yours of being

a family out of date is delightful to some people. I talk to

Charlotte about it often. I am never weary of examining those

canopied effigies in the church, and almost wish they were

those of my relations.'

'I will try to see things in the same light for your sake,'

said De Stancy fervently.

'Not for my sake; for your own was what I meant, of course,'

she replied with a repressive air.

Captain De Stancy bowed.

'What are you going to do with your photographs when you have

them?' she asked, as if still anxious to obliterate the

previous sentimental lapse.

'I shall put them into a large album, and carry them with me

in my campaigns; and may I ask, now I have an opportunity,

that you would extend your permission to copy a little

further, and let me photograph one other painting that hangs

in the castle, to fittingly complete my set?'

'Which?'

'That half-length of a lady which hangs in the morning-room.

I remember seeing it in the Academy last year.'

Paula involuntarily closed herself up. The picture was her

own portrait. 'It does not belong to your series,' she said

somewhat coldly.

De Stancy's secret thought was, I hope from my soul it will

belong some day! He answered with mildness: 'There is a sort

of connection--you are my sister's friend.'

Paula assented.

'And hence, might not your friend's brother photograph your

picture?'

Paula demurred.

A gentle sigh rose from the bosom of De Stancy. 'What is to

become of me?' he said, with a light distressed laugh. 'I am

always inconsiderate and inclined to ask too much. Forgive

me! What was in my mind when I asked I dare not say.'

'I quite understand your interest in your family pictures--and

all of it,' she remarked more gently, willing not to hurt the

sensitive feelings of a man so full of romance.

'And in that ONE!' he said, looking devotedly at her. 'If I

had only been fortunate enough to include it with the rest, my

album would indeed have been a treasure to pore over by the

bivouac fire!'

'O, Captain De Stancy, this is provoking perseverance!' cried

Paula, laughing half crossly. 'I expected that after

expressing my decision so plainly the first time I should not

have been further urged upon the subject.' Saying which she

turned and moved decisively away.

It had not been a productive meeting, thus far. 'One word!'

said De Stancy, following and almost clasping her hand. 'I

have given offence, I know: but do let it all fall on my own

head--don't tell my sister of my misbehaviour! She loves you

deeply, and it would wound her to the heart.'

'You deserve to be told upon,' said Paula as she withdrew,

with just enough playfulness to show that her anger was not

too serious.

Charlotte looked at Paula uneasily when the latter joined her

in the drawing-room. She wanted to say, 'What is the matter?'

but guessing that her brother had something to do with it,

forbore to speak at first. She could not contain her anxiety

long. 'Were you talking with my brother?' she said.

'Yes,' returned Paula, with reservation. However, she soon

added, 'He not only wants to photograph his ancestors, but MY

portrait too. They are a dreadfully encroaching s*x, and

perhaps being in the army makes them worse!'

'I'll give him a hint, and tell him to be careful.'

'Don't say I have definitely complained of him; it is not

worth while to do that; the matter is too trifling for

repetition. Upon the whole, Charlotte, I would rather you

said nothing at all.'

De Stancy's hobby of photographing his ancestors seemed to

become a perfect mania with him. Almost every morning

discovered him in the larger apartments of the castle, taking

down and rehanging the dilapidated pictures, with the

assistance of the indispensable Dare; his fingers stained

black with dust, and his face expressing a busy attention to

the work in hand, though always reserving a look askance for

the presence of Paula.

Though there was something of subterfuge, there was no deep

and double subterfuge in all this. De Stancy took no

particular interest in his ancestral portraits; but he was

enamoured of Paula to weakness. Perhaps the composition of

his love would hardly bear looking into, but it was recklessly

frank and not quite mercenary. His photographic scheme was

nothing worse than a lover's not too scrupulous contrivance.

After the refusal of his request to copy her picture he fumed

and fretted at the prospect of Somerset's return before any

impression had been made on her heart by himself; he swore at

Dare, and asked him hotly why he had dragged him into such a

hopeless dilemma as this.

'Hopeless? Somerset must still be kept away, so that it is

not hopeless. I will consider how to prolong his stay.'

Thereupon Dare considered.

The time was coming--had indeed come--when it was necessary

for Paula to make up her mind about her architect, if she

meant to begin building in the spring. The two sets of plans,

Somerset's and Havill's, were hanging on the walls of the room

that had been used by Somerset as his studio, and were

accessible by anybody. Dare took occasion to go and study

both sets, with a view to finding a flaw in Somerset's which

might have been passed over unnoticed by the committee of

architects, owing to their absence from the actual site. But

not a blunder could he find.

He next went to Havill; and here he was met by an amazing

state of affairs. Havill's creditors, at last suspecting

something mythical in Havill's assurance that the grand

commission was his, had lost all patience; his house was

turned upside-down, and a poster gleamed on the front wall,

stating that the excellent modern household furniture was to

be sold by auction on Friday next. Troubles had apparently

come in battalions, for Dare was informed by a bystander that

Havill's wife was seriously ill also.

Without staying for a moment to enter his friend's house, back

went Mr. Dare to the castle, and told Captain De Stancy of the

architect's desperate circumstances, begging him to convey the

news in some way to Miss Power. De Stancy promised to make

representations in the proper quarter without perceiving that

he was doing the best possible deed for himself thereby.

He told Paula of Havill's misfortunes in the presence of his

sister, who turned pale. She discerned how this misfortune

would bear upon the undecided competition.

'Poor man,' murmured Paula. 'He was my father's architect,

and somehow expected, though I did not promise it, the work of

rebuilding the castle.'

Then De Stancy saw Dare's aim in sending him to Miss Power

with the news; and, seeing it, concurred: Somerset was his

rival, and all was fair. 'And is he not to have the work of

the castle after expecting it?' he asked.

Paula was lost in reflection. 'The other architect's design

and Mr. Havill's are exactly equal in merit, and we cannot

decide how to give it to either,' explained Charlotte.

'That is our difficulty,' Paula murmured. 'A bankrupt, and

his wife ill--dear me! I wonder what's the cause.'

'He has borrowed on the expectation of having to execute the

castle works, and now he is unable to meet his liabilities.'

'It is very sad,' said Paula.

'Let me suggest a remedy for this dead-lock,' said De Stancy.

'Do,' said Paula.

'Do the work of building in two halves or sections. Give

Havill the first half, since he is in need; when that is

finished the second half can be given to your London

architect. If, as I understand, the plans are identical,

except in ornamental details, there will be no difficulty

about it at all.'

Paula sighed--just a little one; and yet the suggestion seemed

to satisfy her by its reasonableness. She turned sad,

wayward, but was impressed by De Stancy's manner and words.

She appeared indeed to have a smouldering desire to please

him. In the afternoon she said to Charlotte, 'I mean to do as

your brother says.'

A note was despatched to Havill that very day, and in an hour

the crestfallen architect presented himself at the castle.

Paula instantly gave him audience, commiserated him, and

commissioned him to carry out a first section of the

buildings, comprising work to the extent of about twenty

thousand pounds expenditure; and then, with a prematureness

quite amazing among architects' clients, she handed him over a

cheque for five hundred pounds on account.

When he had gone, Paula's bearing showed some sign of being

disquieted at what she had done; but she covered her mood

under a cloak of saucy serenity. Perhaps a tender remembrance

of a certain thunderstorm in the foregoing August when she

stood with Somerset in the arbour, and did not own that she

loved him, was pressing on her memory and bewildering her.

She had not seen quite clearly, in adopting De Stancy's

suggestion, that Somerset would now have no professional

reason for being at the castle for the next twelve months.

But the captain had, and when Havill entered the castle he

rejoiced with great joy. Dare, too, rejoiced in his cold way,

and went on with his photography, saying, 'The game

progresses, captain.'

'Game? Call it Divine Comedy, rather!' said the soldier

exultingly.

'He is practically banished for a year or more. What can't

you do in a year, captain!'

Havill, in the meantime, having respectfully withdrawn from

the presence of Paula, passed by Dare and De Stancy in the

gallery as he had done in entering. He spoke a few words to

Dare, who congratulated him. While they were talking somebody

was heard in the hall, inquiring hastily for Mr. Havill.

'What shall I tell him?' demanded the porter.

'His wife is dead,' said the messenger.

Havill overheard the words, and hastened away.

'An unlucky man!' said Dare.

'That, happily for us, will not affect his installation here,'

said De Stancy. 'Now hold your tongue and keep at a distance.

She may come this way.'

Surely enough in a few minutes she came. De Stancy, to make

conversation, told her of the new misfortune which had just

befallen Mr. Havill.

Paula was very sorry to hear it, and remarked that it gave her

great satisfaction to have appointed him as architect of the

first wing before he learnt the bad news. 'I owe you best

thanks, Captain De Stancy, for showing me such an expedient.'

'Do I really deserve thanks?' asked De Stancy. 'I wish I

deserved a reward; but I must bear in mind the fable of the

priest and the jester.'

'I never heard it.'

'The jester implored the priest for alms, but the smallest sum

was refused, though the holy man readily agreed to give him

his blessing. Query, its value?'

'How does it apply?'

'You give me unlimited thanks, but deny me the tiniest

substantial trifle I desire.'

'What persistence!' exclaimed Paula, colouring. 'Very well,

if you WILL photograph my picture you must. It is really not

worthy further pleading. Take it when you like.'

When Paula was alone she seemed vexed with herself for having

given way; and rising from her seat she went quietly to the

door of the room containing the picture, intending to lock it

up till further consideration, whatever he might think of her.

But on casting her eyes round the apartment the painting was

gone. The captain, wisely taking the current when it served,

already had it in the gallery, where he was to be seen bending

attentively over it, arranging the lights and directing Dare

with the instruments. On leaving he thanked her, and said

that he had obtained a splendid copy. Would she look at it?

Paula was severe and icy. 'Thank you--I don't wish to see

it,' she said.

De Stancy bowed and departed in a glow of triumph; satisfied,

notwithstanding her frigidity, that he had compassed his

immediate aim, which was that she might not be able to dismiss

from her thoughts him and his persevering desire for the

shadow of her face during the next four-and-twenty-hours. And

his confidence was well founded: she could not.

'I fear this Divine Comedy will be slow business for us,

captain,' said Dare, who had heard her cold words.

'O no!' said De Stancy, flushing a little: he had not been

perceiving that the lad had the measure of his mind so

entirely as to gauge his position at any moment. But he would

show no shamefacedness. 'Even if it is, my boy,' he answered,

'there's plenty of time before the other can come.'

At that hour and minute of De Stancy's remark 'the other,' to

look at him, seemed indeed securely shelved. He was sitting

lonely in his chambers far away, wondering why she did not

write, and yet hoping to hear--wondering if it had all been

but a short-lived strain of tenderness. He knew as well as if

it had been stated in words that her serious acceptance of him

as a suitor would be her acceptance of him as an architect--

that her schemes in love would be expressed in terms of art;

and conversely that her refusal of him as a lover would be

neatly effected by her choosing Havill's plans for the castle,

and returning his own with thanks. The position was so clear:

he was so well walled in by circumstances that he was

absolutely helpless.

To wait for the line that would not come--the letter saying

that, as she had desired, his was the design that pleased her-

-was still the only thing to do. The (to Somerset) surprising

accident that the committee of architects should have

pronounced the designs absolutely equal in point of merit, and

thus have caused the final choice to revert after all to

Paula, had been a joyous thing to him when he first heard of

it, full of confidence in her favour. But the fact of her

having again become the arbitrator, though it had made

acceptance of his plans all the more probable, made refusal of

them, should it happen, all the more crushing. He could have

conceived himself favoured by Paula as her lover, even had the

committee decided in favour of Havill as her architect. But

not to be chosen as architect now was to be rejected in both

kinds.