‘Yes.’
‘I didn’t. But I suppose it doesn’t
matter.’
Nancy had thought of telling her friend what she had
done, of boasting that she had asked the impossible
question. But now she felt ashamed of herself,
and something more than ashamed. Never again
could she enter this garden. And it seemed to
her that, by a piece of outrageous, of wanton, folly,
she had for ever excluded herself from the society
of all ‘superior’ people.
’Now, I look at it in this way.
It’s to celebrate the fiftieth year of the reign
of Queen Victoria—yes: but at the same
time, and far more, it’s to celebrate the completion
of fifty years of Progress. National Progress,
without precedent in the history of mankind!
One may say, indeed, Progress of the Human Race.
Only think what has been done in this half-century:
only think of it! Compare England now, compare
the world, with what it was in 1837. It takes
away one’s breath!’
Thus Mr. Samuel Bennett Barmby, as he stood swaying
forward upon his toes, his boots creaking. Nancy
and Jessica listened to him. They were ready
to start on the evening’s expedition, but Horace
had not yet come home, and on the chance of his arrival
they would wait a few minutes longer.
’I shall make this the subject of a paper for
our Society next winter—the Age of Progress.
And with special reference to one particular—the
Press. Only think now, of the difference between
our newspapers, all our periodicals of to-day, and
those fifty years ago. Did you ever really consider,
Miss. Morgan, what a marvellous thing one of
our great newspapers really is? Printed in another
way it would make a volume—absolutely;
a positive volume; packed with thought and information.
And all for the ridiculous price of one penny!’
He laughed; a high, chuckling, crowing laugh; the
laugh of triumphant optimism. Of the man’s
sincerity there could be no question; it beamed from
his shining forehead, his pointed nose; glistened
in his prominent eyes. He had a tall, lank figure,
irreproachably clad in a suit of grey: frock coat,
and waistcoat revealing an expanse of white shirt.
His cuffs were magnificent, and the hands worthy of
them. A stand-up collar, of remarkable stiffness,
kept his head at the proper level of self-respect.
’By the bye, Miss. Lord, are you aware
that the Chinese Empire, with four hundred
MILLION inhabitants, has only ten daily papers?
Positively; only ten.’
‘How do you know?’ asked Nancy.
’I saw it stated in a paper. That helps
one to grasp the difference between civilisation
and barbarism. One doesn’t think clearly
enough of common things. Now that’s one
of the benefits one gets from Carlyle. Carlyle
teaches one to see the marvellous in everyday life.
Of course in many things I don’t agree with him,
but I shall never lose an opportunity of expressing
my gratitude to Carlyle. Carlyle and Gurty!
Yes, Carlyle and Gurty; those two authors are an education
in themselves.’
