John Lothrop Motley - "The Rise of the Dutch Republic, 1568"

Thomas Belt - "The Naturalist in Nicaragua"

S. O. Susag - "Personal Experiences of S. O. Susag"

Marcus Aurelius - "Meditations "

New Philadelphia Book Publisher Highlights Local Talent
Book and Publishing News from Publishers Newswire(tm)

Looking for Child to be on Cover of a New Book, 'The Model Child'
PHILADELPHIA, Pa. -- The Philadelphia literary world will celebrate the launch of two new players today, April 10th: Kay Square Press, a new publishing company focused on Philadelphia-area artists, their stories, and their art; and Kay Square's first release, 'With the Rich and Mighty: Emlen Etting of Philadelphia' (ISBN: 978-0-9815129-0-7), a critical biography by Kenneth C. Kaleta.

FlatSigned Press Alleges Don Imus Remarks Damage Legacy of President Gerald R. Ford
NEW YORK, N.Y. -- Nathan Yungerberg, an accomplished model scout and professional child photographer is launching a nation-wide casting call to find the cover model for his highly anticipated book release, 'The Model Child: A Parents Guide to the Child Modeling Industry' (ISBN: 978-0-9817018-0-6).

Books: Our Friend the Charlatan

G >> George Gissing >> Our Friend the Charlatan




Crossing the street at Piccadilly Circus, he ran before a hansom,
and from the hansom was waved a hand, a voice in the same moment
calling out his name. As a result of his stopping, be was very
nearly run over by another cab; he escaped to the pavement; the
hansom pulled up beside him, and he shook hands with Mrs. Woolstan.

"Are you going anywhere?" she asked, her eyes very wide as they
gazed at him.

"Nowhere in particular."

"Then do come with me, will you? I have to buy a present for Len's
birthday, and I should be so glad of your help in choosing it."

Dyce jumped into the vehicle, and, as his habit was, at once
surveyed himself in the little looking-glass conveniently placed for
that purpose. The inspection never gratified him, and to-day less
than usual. Turning to his companion, he asked:

"Does everybody look ugly in a hansom mirror?"

"What a question! I'm sure I can't tell you."

Iris had coloured a little. Her eyes involuntarily sought the slip
of glass at her side of the seat, and the face she saw was assuredly
not a flattering likeness. With brow knitted, she stared out into
the street, and presently asked:

"Have you seen Lady Ogram?"

"Yes."

"I thought you told me that she would have no one with her but her
secretary? Why did you say that?"

"Because I didn't know that she bed a newly-discovered niece. It
seems that you have heard of it. Perhaps you have met her?"

"Not yet; Mrs. Toplady told me."

"And you take it for granted that I had deliberately concealed the
niece from you?" said Lashmar, with an amused air. "Pray, why should
I have done so?"

"No, no, I thought nothing of the kind," replied Mrs. Woolstan, in a
conciliating tone. "Indeed I didn't! It's only that I felt vexed not
to have heard the story from you first. I thought you would have
told it me as soon as possible--such an interesting thing as
that."

Lashmar declared that he had only known of Miss Tomalin's existence
for a day or two, and had only heard the explanation of her
appearance this very day. His companion asked for a description of
the young lady, and he gave one remarkable for splenetic
exaggeration.

"You must have seen her in a hansom looking-glass," said Iris,
smiling askance at him. "Mrs. Toplady's picture is very different.
And the same applies to Miss Bride; I formed an idea of her from
what you told me which doesn't answer at all to that given me by
Mrs. Toplady."

"Mrs. Toplady," replied Dyce, his lips reminiscent of Pont Street,
"inclines to idealism, I have found. It's an amiable weakness, but
one has to be on one's guard against it. Did she say anything about
Lord Dymchurch?"

"Nothing. Why?"

Dyce seemed to reflect; then spoke as if confidentially.

"I suspect there is a little conspiracy against the noble lord. From
certain things that I have observed and heard, I think it probable
that Lady Ogram wants to capture Dymchurch for her niece."

A light shone upon the listener's countenance, and she panted eager
exclamations.

"Really? You think so? But I understood that he was so poor. How is
it possible?"

"Yes. Dymchurch is poor, I believe, but he is a lord. Lady Ogram is
_not_ poor, and I fancy she would like above all things to end her
life as aunt-in-law (if there be such a thing) of a peer. Her
weakness, as we know, has always been for the aristocracy. She's a
strong-minded woman in most things. I am quite sure she prides
herself on belonging by birth to the lower class, and she knows that
most aristocrats are imbeciles; for all that, she won't rest till
she has found her niece a titled husband. This is my private
conviction; take it for what it is worth."

"But," cried Iris, satisfaction still shining on her face, "do you
think there's the least chance that Lord Dymchurch will be caught?"

"A week ago, I should have laughed at the suggestion. Now, I don't
feel at all sure of his safety. He goes about to meet the girl. He's
dining at their hotel to-night."

"You take a great interest in it," said Mrs. Woolstan, her voice
faltering a little.

"Because I am so surprised and disappointed about Dymchurch. I
thought better of him. I took him for a philosopher."

"But Mrs. Toplady says the girl is charming, and very clever."

"That's a matter of opinion. Doesn't Mrs. Toplady strike you as
something of a busybody--a glorified busybody, of course?"

"Oh, I like her! And she speaks very nicely of you."

"I'm much obliged. But, after all, why should she speak otherwise
than nicely of me?"

Whilst Iris was meditating an answer to this question, the cab
pulled up at a great shop. They alighted; the driver was bidden to
wait; and along the alleys of the gleaming bazaar they sought a
present suitable for Leonard Woolstan. To Lashmar it was a scarcely
tolerable ennui; he had even more than the average man's hatred of
shopping, and feminine indecision whipped him to contemptuous
irritation. To give himself something to do, he looked about for a
purchase on his own account, and, having made it, told Iris that
this was a present from him to his former pupil.

"Oh, how kind of you!" exclaimed the mother, regarding him tenderly.
"How very kind of you! Len will be delighted, poor boy."

They left the shop, and stood by the hansom.

"Where are you going to now?" asked Iris.

"Home, to work. I have to address a meeting at Hollingford on the
20th, and I must think out a sufficiency of harmless nonsense."

"Really? A public meeting already? Couldn't I come and hear you?"

Dyce explained the nature of the gathering.

"But I shall see you before then," he added, helping her to enter
the cab. "By the bye, don't be indiscreet with reference to what we
spoke of just now."

"Why of course not," answered Iris, her eyes fixed on his face as he
drew back carelessly saluting.

Though Lashmar had elaborated his story concerning Lord Dymchurch on
the spur of the moment, he now thoroughly believed it himself, and
the result was a restlessness of mind which no conviction of its
utter absurdity could overcome. In vain did he remember that Lady
Ogram had settled his destiny so far as the matter lay in _her_
hands, and that to displease the choleric old autocrat would be to
overthrow in a moment the edifice of hope reared by her aid. The
image of May Tomalin was constantly before his mind. Not that he
felt himself sentimentally drawn to her; but she represented an
opportunity which it annoyed him to feel that he would not, if he
chose, be permitted to grasp. Miss Tomalin by no means satisfied his
aspiration in the matter of marriage, whatever wealth she might have
to bestow; he had always pictured a very lofty type of woman indeed,
a being superb in every attribute when dreaming of his future
spouse. But he enjoyed the sense of power, and was exasperated by a
suggestion that any man could have a natural advantage over him. To
this characteristic he owed the influence with women which had
carried him so far, for there is nothing that better stands a man in
his relations with the other sex than settled egoism serving
restless ambition. This combination of qualities which all but every
woman worship. Mrs. Toplady herself, she of the ironic smile and
cynic intelligence, felt it a magnetic property in Dyce Lashmar's
otherwise not very impressive person. On that account did she watch
his pranks with so indulgent an eye, and give herself trouble to
enlarge the scope of his entertaining activity. She knew, however,
that the man was not cast in heroic mould; that he was capable of
scruples, inclined to indolence; that he did not, after all,
sufficiently believe in himself to go very far in the subjugation of
others. Therefore she had never entertained the thought of seriously
devoting herself to his cause, but was content to play with it until
something more piquant should claim her attention.

Mrs. Toplady had always wished for the coming of the very hero, the
man without fear, without qualm, who should put our finicking
civilisation under his feet. Her god was a compound of the
blood-reeking conqueror and the diplomatist supreme in guile. For
such a man she would have poured out her safe-invested treasure,
enough rewarded with a nod of half-disdainful recognition. It vexed
her to think that she might pass away before the appearance of that
new actor on the human stage; his entrance was all but due, she felt
assured. Ah! the world would be much more amusing presently, and she
meanwhile was growing old.

Her drawing-rooms on the evening of June 13th were crowded with
representatives of Society. Lashmar arrived about ten o'clock, and
his hostess had soon introduced him to two or three persons of
political note, with each of whom be exchanged phrases of such
appalling banality that he had much ado not to laugh in his
interlocutor's face. The swelling current moved him along; he could
only watch countenances and listen to dialogues as foolish as those
in which he had taken part; a dizzying babblement filled the air,
heavy with confusion of perfumes. Presently, having circled his way
back towards the stair-head, he caught sight of Lord Dymchurch, who
had newly entered; their eyes met, but Dymchurch, who wore a very
absent look, gave no sign of recognition. Dyce pressed forward.

"I hoped I might meet you here," he said.

The other started, smiled nervously, and spoke in a confused way.

"I thought it likely. Of course you know a great many of these
people?"

"Oh, a few. I had rather meet them anywhere than in such a crowd,
though."

"Wonderful, isn't it?" murmured Dymchurch, with a comical distress
in his eyebrows. "Wonderful!"

Good-naturedly nodding, he moved away, and was lost to sight. Dyce,
holding his place near the entrance, perceived at length another
face that he knew--that of a lady with whom he had recently dined
at this house; in her company came Constance Bride and May Tomalin.
He all but bounded to meet them. Constance looked well in a garb
more ornate than Lashmar had yet seen her wearing; May, glowing with
self-satisfaction, made a brilliant appearance. Their chaperon spoke
with him; he learned that Lady Ogram did not feel quite equal to an
occasion such as this, and had stayed at home. Miss Tomalin, eager
to join in the talk, pressed before Constance.

"Have you got your speech ready, Mr. Lashmar?" she asked, with
sprightly condescension.

"Quite. How sorry I am that you won't be able to enjoy that
masterpiece of eloquence!"

"Oh, but it will be reported. It must be reported, of course."

The chaperon interposed, presenting to Miss Tomalin a gentleman who
seemed very desirous of that honour, and Dyce stifled his annoyance
in saying apart to Constance

"What barbarism this is! One might as well try to converse in the
middle of the street at Charing Cross."

"Certainly. But people don't come to converse," was the answer.

"You enjoy this kind of thing, I fancy?"

"I don't find it disagreeable."

The chaperon and Miss Tomalin were moving away; May cast a look at
Lashmar, but he was unconscious of it. Constance turned to follow
her companions, and Dyce stood alone again.

Half an hour later, the circling currents to which he surrendered
himself brought him before a row of chairs, where sat the three
ladies and, by the side of Miss Tomalin, Lord Dymchurch. May,
flushed and bright-eyed, was talking at a great rate; she seemed to
be laying down the law in some matter, and Dymchurch, respectfully
bent towards her, listened with a thoughtful smile. Dyce approached,
and spoke to Constance. A few moments afterwards, Lord Dymchurch
rose, bowed, and withdrew; whereupon Lashmar asked Miss Tomalin's
permission to take the vacant chair. It was granted rather absently;
for the girl's eyes had furtively followed her late companion as he
moved away, and she seemed more disposed to reflect than to begin a
new conversation. This passed, however; soon she was talking
politics with an air of omniscience which Lashmar could only envy.

"May I take you down to the supper-room?" he asked presently.

The chaperon and Miss Bride were engaged in conversation with a man
who stood behind them.

"Yes, let us go," said May, rising. "I'm thirsty."

She spoke a word to the lady responsible for her, and swept off with
Lashmar.

"How delightful it is,". Dyce exclaimed, "to gather such a lot of
interesting people!"

"Isn't it!" May responded. "One feels really alive here. You would
hardly believe--" she gave him a confidential look--"that this is
my first season in London."

"Indeed it isn't easy to believe," said Dyce, in the tone of
compliment.

"I always thought of a London season," pursued May, "as mere
frivolity. Of course there is a great deal of that. But here one
sees only cultured and serious people; it makes one feel how much
hope there is for the world, in spite of everything. The common
Socialists talk dreadful nonsense about Society; of course it's mere
ignorance."

"To be sure," Lashmar assented, with inward mirth. "Their views are
inevitably so narrow.--How long do you stay in town?"

"I'm afraid my aunt's health will oblige me to return to Rivenoak
very soon. She has been seeing doctors. I don't know what they tell
her, but I notice that she isn't quite herself this last day or
two."

"Wonderful old lady, isn't she?" Dyce exclaimed.

"Oh, wonderful! You have known her for a long time, haven't you?"

"No, not very long. But we have talked so much, and agree so well in
our views, that I think of her as quite an old friend.--What can I
get you? Do you like iced coffee?"

Dyce seated her, and tended upon her as though no such thing as a
"method" with women had ever entered his mind. His demeanour was
lamentably old-fashioned. What it lacked in natural grace, Miss
Tomalin was not critical enough to perceive.

"How nice it will be," she suddenly remarked, "when you are in
Parliament! Of course you will invite us to tea on the terrace, and
all that kind of thing."

"I'm sure I hope I shall have the chance. My election is by no means
a certainty, you know. The Tories are very strong at Hollingford."

"Oh, but we're all going to work for you. When we get back to
Rivenoak, I shall begin a serious campaign. I could never live
without some serious work of the social kind, and I look upon it as
a great opportunity for civilising people. They must be taught that
it is morally wrong to vote for such a man as Robb, and an absolute
duty of citizenship to vote for you. How I shall enjoy it!"

"You are very kind!"

"Oh, don't think of it in that way!" exclaimed Miss Tomalin. "I have
always thought more of principles than of persons. It isn't in my
nature to take anything up unless I feel an absolute conviction that
it is for the world's good. At Northampton I often offended people I
liked by what they called my obstinacy when a principle was at
stake. I don't want to praise myself, but I really can say that it
is my nature to be earnest and thorough and disinterested."

"Of that I am quite sure," said Lashmar, fervently.

"And--to let me tell you--it is such a pleasure to feel that my
opportunities will be so much greater than formerly." May was
growing very intimate, but still kept her air of dignity, with its
touch of condescension. "At Northampton, you know, I hadn't very
much scope; now it will be different. What an important thing social
position is! What power for good it gives one!"

"Provided," put in her companion, "that one belongs to nature's
aristocracy."

"Well--yes--I suppose one must have the presumption to lay claim
to that," returned May, with a little laugh.

"Say, rather, the honesty, the simple courage. Self-depreciation,"
added Dyce, "I have always regarded as a proof of littleness. People
really called to do something never lose confidence in themselves,
and have no false modesty about expressing it."

"I'm sure that's very true. I heard once that someone at Northampton
had called me conceited, and you can't think what a shock it gave
me. I sat down, there and then, and asked myself whether I really
was conceited, and my conscience assured me I was nothing of the
kind. I settled it with myself, once for all. Since then, I have
never cared what people said about me."

"That's admirable!" murmured Dyce.

"I am sure," went on the girl, with a grave archness, "that you too
have known such an experience."

"To tell the truth, I have," the philosopher admitted, bending his
head a little.

"I felt certain that you could understand me, or I should never have
ventured to tell you such a thing.--There is Miss Bride!"

Constance had taken a seat not far from them, and the man who had
been talking with her upstairs was offering her refreshments.
Presently, she caught Miss Tomalin's eye, and smiled; a minute or
two after, she and her companion came forward to join the other
pair, and all re-ascended to the drawing-rooms together. When he had
restored his charge to her chaperon, Lashmar took the hint of
discretion and retired into the throng. There amid, he encountered
Iris Woolstan, her eyes wide in search.

"So you _are_ here!" she exclaimed, with immediate change of
countenance. "I despaired of ever seeing you. What a crush!"

"Horrible, isn't it. I've had enough; I must breathe the air."

"Oh, stay a few minutes. I know so few people. Are Lady Ogram and
her niece here?"

"Lady Ogram, I think not. I caught a glimpse of Miss Tomalin
somewhere or other, sternly chaperoned."

He lied gaily, for the talk with May had put him into a thoroughly
blithe humour.

"I should so like to see her," said Iris. "Don't you think you could
point her out, if we went about a little."

"Let us look for her by all means. Have you been to the supper-room?
She may be there."

They turned to move slowly towards the staircase. Before reaching
the door, they were met by Mrs. Toplady, at her side the gentleman
who had been Miss Bride's companion downstairs.

"How fortunate!" exclaimed the hostess to Mrs. Woolstan. "I so want
you to know Miss Tomalin, and Mr. Rossendale can take us to her."

Iris voiced her delight, and looked at Lashmar, inviting him to come
too. But Dyce stood rigid, an unnatural smile on his features; then
he drew back, turned, and was lost to view.

Five minutes later, he quitted the house. It was raining lightly.
Whilst he looked upward to give the cabman his address, drops fell
upon his face, and he found their coolness pleasant.

During the ride home, he indulged a limitless wrath against Iris
Woolstan. That busybody had spoilt his evening, had thrown
disturbance into his mind just when it was enjoying the cheeriest
hopes. As likely as not she would learn that he had had a long talk
with May Tomalin, and, seeing the girl, she would put her own
interpretation on the fib he had told her. What a nuisance it was to
have to do with these feminine creatures, all fuss and impulsiveness
and sentimentality! It would not surprise him in the least if she
made a scene about this evening. Already, the other day, her tone
when she accused him of giving her a false idea of Lady Ogram's
niece proved the possibility of nonsensical trouble. The thing was a
gross absurdity. Had he not, from the very beginning of their
friendship, been careful to adopt a tone as uncompromising as man
could use? Had he not applied to her his "method" in all its rigour?
What right had she to worry him with idiotic jealousies? Could
anyone have behaved more honourably than he throughout their
intercourse? Why, the average man--

His debt? What had that to do with the matter? The very fact of his
accepting a loan of money from her emphasised the dry nature of
their relations. That money must quickly be repaid, or he would have
no peace. The woman began to presume upon his indebtedness, he saw
that clearly. Her tone had been different, ever since.

Deuce take the silly creature! She had made him thoroughly
uncomfortable. What it was to have delicate sensibilities!





CHAPTER XIV




Having an imperious Will and an intelligence merely practical, it
was natural for Lady Ogram to imagine that, even as she imposed her
authority on others in outward things, so had she sway over their
minds; what she willed that others should think, that, she took for
granted, they thought. Seeing herself as an entirely beneficent
potentate; unable to distinguish for a moment between her arbitrary
impulses and the well-meaning motives which often directed her; she
assumed as perfectly natural that all within her sphere of action
must regard her with grateful submissiveness. So, for example,
having decided that a marriage between Dyce Lashmar and Constance
Bride would be a very good thing for both, and purposing large
generosity towards them when it should have come about, she found it
very difficult to conceive that either of her young friends could
take any other view of the matter. When observation obliged her to
doubt the correctness of her first impressions, she grew only the
more determined that things should be as she wished. Since the
coming of May Tomalin, a new reason--or rather, emotion--
fortified her resolve; seeing a possibility, even a likelihood, that
May and Lashmar might attract each other, and having very definite
views with regard to her niece, she was impatient for a declared
betrothal of Constance and the aspiring politician. Their mutual
aloofness irritated her more than she allowed to be seen, and the
moment approached when she could no longer endure such playing with
her serious purposes.

She knew that she had committed an imprudence in coming to London
and entering, however moderately, into the excitements of the
season. A day or two sufficed to prove the danger she was incurring;
but she refused to take count of symptoms. With a weakness which did
not lack its pathos, she had, for the first time in her life, put
what she called "a touch of colour" onto her cheeks, and the result
so pleased her that she all but forgot the artificiality of this
late bloom; each morning, when her maid had performed the office,
she viewed herself with satisfaction, and was even heard to remark
that London evidently did her good. Lady Ogram tried to believe that
even age and disease were amenable to her control.

She consulted doctors--for the form; behaving with cold civility
during their visit, and scornfully satirising them when they were
gone. None the less did she entertain friends at luncheon or dinner,
and often talked to them as if years of activity and enjoyment lay
before her. "Wonderful old lady!" was the remark of most who left
her presence; but some exchanged glances and let fall ominous words.

On the evening when May and Constance were at the crush in Pont
Street, she would not go to bed, but lay on a couch in her chamber,
occasionally dozing, more often wide awake and quivering with the
agitation of her mind. It was one o'clock when the girls returned,
but she had given orders that Miss Tomalin should at once come to
see her, and May, flushed, resplendent, entered the dimly-lighted
room.

"Well, have you enjoyed yourself?"

The voice was a shock to May's ears. After those to which she had
been listening, it sounded sepulchral.

"Very much indeed. A delightful time!"

No token of affection had a place in their greeting. The old
autocrat could not bring herself to offer, or ask for, tenderness;
but in her eyes, always expressive of admiration when she looked at
May, might have been read something like hunger of the heart.

"Sit down, my dear." Even this form of address was exceptional.
"Tell me all about it. Who was there?"

"Hundreds of people! I can't remember half of those I was introduced
to. Lord Dymchurch--"

"Ha! Lord Dymchurch came? And you had a talk with him?"

"Oh, yes. I find he takes a great interest in Old English, and we
talked about Chaucer and so on for a long time. He isn't quite so
well up in it as I am; I put him right on one or two points, and he
seemed quite grateful. He's very nice, isn't he? There's something
so quiet and good-natured about him. I thought perhaps he would have
offered to take me down to supper, but he didn't. Perhaps he didn't
think of it; I fancy he's rather absentminded."

Lady Ogram knitted her brows.

"Who did go down with you?" she asked.

"Oh, Mr. Lashmar. He was very amusing. Then I talked with--"

"Wait a minute. Did you only have one talk with Lord Dymchurch?"

"Only one. He doesn't care for 'At Homes.' Mrs. Toplady says he
hardly ever goes anywhere, and she fancies"--May laughed lightly--"that
he came to-night only because _I_ was going to be there. Do
you think it likely, aunt?"

"Why, I don't think it impossible," replied Lady Ogram, in a tone of
relief. "I have known more unlikely things. And suppose it were
true?"

"Oh, it's very complimentary, of course."

The old eyes dwelt upon the young face, and with a puzzled
expression. Notwithstanding her own character, it was difficult for
Lady Ogram to imagine that the girl seriously regarded herself as
superior to Lord Dymchurch.

"Perhaps it's more than a compliment," she said, in rather a
mumbling voice; and she added, with an effort to speak distinctly,
"I suppose you didn't tire him with that talk about Old English?"