Eustace Derwent departed in a day or two, having an
invitation to join friends in Scotland. He had
vastly enjoyed the privilege of listening to Arnold’s
talk. Indeed to his sister’s amusement,
he plainly sought to model himself on Mr. Jacks, in
demeanour, in phraseology, and in sentiments; not
without success.
On one of those evenings at the seaside, Dr. Derwent,
glancing over the newspapers, came upon a letter signed
“Lee Hannaford.” It had reference
to some current dispute about the merits of a new bullet.
Hannaford, writing with authority, criticised the invention;
he gave particulars (the result of an experiment on
an old horse) as to its mode of penetrating flesh
and shattering bone; there was a gusto in his style,
that of the true artist in bloodshed. pointing out
the signature to Arnold Jacks, Dr. Derwent asked in
a subdued tone, as when one speaks of something shameful:
“Have you seen or heard of him lately?”
“About ten days ago,” replied Arnold.
“He was at the Hyde Wilson’s, and he had
the impertinence to congratulate me. He did it,
too, before other people, so that I couldn’t
very well answer as I wished. You are aware,
by the bye, that he is doing very well—
belongs to a firm of manufacturers of explosives?”
“Indeed?—I wish he would explode
his own head off.”
The Doctor spoke with most unwonted fierceness.
Arnold Jacks, without verbally seconding the wish,
showed by an uneasy smile that he would not have mourned
the decease of this relative of the Derwents.
Mrs. Hannaford’s position involved no serious
scandal, but Arnold had a strong dislike for any sort
of social irregularity; here was the one detail of
his future wife’s family circumstances which
he desired to forget. What made it more annoying
than it need have been was his surmise that Lee Hannaford
nursed rancour against the Derwents, and would not
lose an opportunity of venting it. In the public
congratulation of which Arnold spoke, there had been
a distinct touch of malice. It was not impossible
that the man hinted calumnies with regard to his wife,
and, under the circumstances, slander of that kind
was the most difficult thing to deal with.
But in Irene’s society these unwelcome thoughts
were soon dismissed. With the demeanour of his
betrothed, Arnold was abundantly satisfied; he saw
in it the perfect medium between demonstrativeness
and insensibility. Without ever having reflected
on the subject, he felt that this was how a girl of
entire refinement should behave in a situation demanding
supreme delicacy. Irene never seemed in “a
coming-on disposition,” to use the phrase of
a young person who had not the advantage of English
social training; it was evidently her wish to behave,
as far as possible, with the simplicity of mere friendship.
In these days, Mr. Jacks, for the first time, ceased
to question himself as to the prudence of the step
