Joseph Devlin - "How to Speak and Write Correctly"

C.F. McGlashan - "History of the Donner Party"

Frederick Marryat - "Mr. Midshipman Easy"

Philip Melanchthon - "The Apology of the Augsburg Confession"

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




"I'm so sorry to have troubled you," said Dyce, with laughing
contrition. "I thought it might amuse you to know that _Mr. Robb_ is
in the train!"

"Really? How I should have liked to be in the same carriage. Perhaps
I should have heard the creature talk. Oh, and this compartment is
so full, so hot! Is it impossible to find a better?"

Dyce rushed at a passing guard. He learnt that, if Miss Tomalin were
willing to change half way on her journey, she could travel at ease;
only the through carriages for Hollingford were packed. To this May
at once consented. Dyce seized her dressing-bag, her umbrella; they
sped to another part of the train, and sprang, both of them, into an
empty first-class.

"This is delightful!" cried the girl. "I _am_ so much obliged to
you!"

"Tickets, please."

"Shown already," replied May. "Change of carriage."

The door was slammed, locked. The whistle sounded.

"But we're starting!" May exclaimed. "Quick! Jump out, Mr. Lashmar!"

Dyce sat still, smiling calmly.

"It's too late, I'm afraid I mustn't try to escape by the window."

"Oh, and you have sacrificed yourself just to make me more
comfortable! How inconvenient it will be for you! What a waste of
time!"

"Not at all. The best thing that could have happened."

"Well, we have papers at all events." May handed him one. "Pray
don't feel obliged to talk."

"As it happens, I very much wish to talk. Queer thing that I should
owe my opportunity to Robb. I shall never again feel altogether
hostile to that man. I wish you had seen him. He looked apoplectic.
This weather must try him severely."

"You never spoke to him, I suppose?" asked May.

"I never had that honour. Glimpses only of the great man have been
vouchsafed to me. Once seen, he is never forgotten. To-day he looks
alarmingly apoplectic."

"But really, Mr. Lashmar," said the girl, settling herself in her
corner, "I do feel ashamed to have given you this useless journey--
and just when you are so busy."

She was pretty in her travelling costume. Could Lashmar have
compared her appearance to-day with that she had presented on her
first arrival at Rivenoak, he would have marvelled at the change
wrought by luxurious circumstance. No eye-glasses now; no little
paper-cutter hanging at her girdle. Called upon to resume the
Northampton garb, May would have been horrified. The brown shoes
which she had purchased expressly for her visit to Lady Ogram would
have seemed impossibly large and coarse. Exquisite were her lavender
gloves. Such details of attire, formerly regarded with some
contempt, had now an importance for her. She had come to regard
dress as one of the serious concerns of life.

"I went to Pont Street this afternoon," said Dyce, "with a wish that
by some chance I might see you alone. It was Very unlikely, but it
has come to pass."

May exhibited a slight surprise, and by an imperceptible movement
put a little more dignity into her attitude.

"What did you wish to speak about?" she asked, with an air meant to
be strikingly natural.

"Don't let me startle you; it was about my engagement to Miss
Bride."

This time, Dyce felt he could not he mistaken. She was confused; he
saw colour mounting on her neck; the surprise she tried to convey in
smiling was too obviously feigned.

"Isn't that rather an odd subject of conversation?"

"It seems so, but wait till you have heard what I have to say. It is
on Miss Bride's account that I speak. You are her friend, and I feel
that, in mere justice to her, I ought to tell you a very strange
story. It is greatly to her honour. She couldn't tell you the truth
herself, and of course you will not be able to let her know that you
know it. But it will save you from possible misunderstanding of her,
enable you to judge her fairly."

May hardly disguised her curiosity. It absorbed her
self-consciousness, and she looked the speaker straight in the face.

"To come to the point at once," pursued Lashmar, our engagement is
not a genuine one. Miss Bride has not really consented to marry me.
She only consents to have it thought that she has done so. And very
generous, very noble, it is of her."

"What a strange thing!" the girl exclaimed, as ingenuously as she
had ever spoken in her life.

"Isn't it! I can explain in a word or two. Lady Ogram wished us to
marry; it was a favourite project of hers. She spoke to me about
it--putting me in a very difficult position, for I felt sure that
Miss Bride had no such regard for me as your aunt supposed. I
postponed, delayed as much as possible, and the result was that Lady
Ogram began to take my behaviour ill. The worst of it was, her
annoyance had a had effect on her health. I think you know that Lady
Ogram cannot bear contradiction."

"I know that she doesn't like it," said May, her chin rising a
little.

"You, of course, are favoured. You have exceptional influence. But I
can assure you that it would have been a very unpleasant thing to
have to tell Lady Ogram either that I couldn't take the step she
wished, or that Miss Bride rejected me."

"I can believe that," said May indulgently.

"When I saw that she was making herself ill about it, I took the
resolve to speak frankly to Miss Bride. The result was--our
pretended engagement."

"Was it your suggestion?" inquired the listener.

"Yes, it came from me," Dyce answered, with half real, half
affected, embarrassment. "Of course I felt it to be monstrous
impudence, but, as some excuse for me, you must remember that Miss
Bride and I have known each other for many years, that we were
friends almost in childhood. Perhaps I was rather a coward. Perhaps
I ought to have told your aunt the truth, and taken the
consequences. But Miss Bride, no less than I, felt afraid of them."

"What consequences?"

"We really feared that, in Lady Ogram's state of health--"

He broke off significantly. May dropped her eyes. The train roared
through a station.

"But," said May at length, "I understand that you are to be married
in October."

"That is Lady Ogram's wish. Of course it's horribly embarrassing. I
needn't say that when our engagement is announced as broken off, I
shall manage so that all the fault appears to be on my side. But I
am hoping--that Lady Ogram may somehow be brought to change her
mind. And I even dare to hope that--you will help us to that end."

"I? How could I, possibly?"

"Indeed, I hardly know. But the situation is so awkward, and you are
the only person who has really great influence with Lady Ogram--"

There was silence amid the noise of the train. May looked through
one window, Dyce through the other.

"In any case," exclaimed Lashmar, "I have discharged what I felt to
be a duty. I could not bear to think that you should be living with
Miss Bride, and totally misunderstanding her. I wanted you to do
justice to her noble self-sacrifice. Of course I have felt ashamed
of myself ever since I allowed her to get into such a false
position. You, I fear, think worse of me than you did."

He regarded her from under his eyelids, as if timidly. May sat very
upright. She did not look displeased; a light in her eyes might have
been understood as expressing satisfaction.

"Suppose," she said, looking away, "that October comes, and you
haven't been able to--to put an end to this situation?"

"I'm afraid--very much afraid--that we shall have to do so at
any cost."

"It's very strange, altogether. An extraordinary state of things."

"You forgive me for talking to you about it?" asked Dyce, leaning
respectfully forward.

"I understand why you did. There was no harm in it."

"Do you remember our talk in the supper-room at Mrs. Toplady's?--
when we agreed that nothing was more foolish than false modesty.
Shall I venture to tell you, now, that, if this marriage came about,
it would be something like ruin to my career? You won't
misunderstand. I have a great respect, and a great liking, for Miss
Bride; but think how all-important it is, this question of marriage
for a public man."

"Of course I understand that," May replied.

He enlarged upon the topic, revealing his hopes.

"But I rather thought," said May, "that Miss Bride was just the sort
of companion you needed. She is so intelligent and--"

"Very! But do you think she has the qualities which would enable her
to take a high position in society? There's no unkindness in
touching upon that. Admirable women may fall short of these
particular excellencies. A man chooses his wife according to the
faith he has in his future?"

"I understand; I quite understand," said May, with a large air. "No;
it has to be confessed that Miss Bride--I wonder my aunt didn't
think of that."

They turned aside to discuss Lady Ogram, and did so in such detail,
with so much mutual satisfaction, that time slipped on insensibly,
and, ere they had thought of parting, the train began to slacken
down for the junction where Miss Tomalin would have to change
carriages.

"How annoying that I shan't be able to see you again!" cried
Lashmar.

"But shan't you be coming to Rivenoak?"

"Not for some time, very likely. And when I do--" The train
stopped. Dyce helped his companion to alight, and moved along to
seek for a place for her in the section which went to Hollingford.
Suddenly an alarmed voice from one of the carriage-doors shouted
"Guard! Station-master!" People turned in that direction; porters
ran; evidently, something serious had happened.

"What's the matter?" asked May, at her companion's side.

"Somebody taken ill, I think," said Dyce, moving towards the door
whence the shout had sounded.

He caught a glimpse of a man who had sunk upon the floor of the
carriage, and was just being lifted onto the seat by other
passengers. Pressing nearer, he saw a face hideously congested, with
horrible starting eyes. He drew back, and whispered to May:

"It's Robb! Didn't I tell you that he looked apoplectic."

The girl shrank in fear.

"Are you sure?"

"Perfectly. Stand here a minute, and I'll ask how it happened."

From the talk going on he quickly learnt that Mr. Robb, complaining
that he felt faint, had risen, just as the train drew into the
station, to open the door and descend. Before anyone could help him,
he dropped, and his fellow-travellers shouted. Dyce and May watched
the conveyance of the obese figure across the platform to a
waiting-room.

"I must know the end of this," said Lashmar, his eyes gleaming.

"You wouldn't have gone further, should you?"

"I suppose not--though I had still a great deal to tell you.
Quick! We must get your place."

"I could stop for the next train," suggested May.

"Better not, I think. The carriage will be waiting for you at
Hollingford. No, better not. I have another idea."

They found a seat. Dyce threw in the dressing-bag, and alighted
again.

"There's still a minute or two," he said, keeping May beside him on
the platform. "This affair may be tremendously important for me, you
know."

"It would mean an election at once," said the girl, excitedly.

"Of course." He approached his face to hers, and added in low, rapid
tones, "You know the park gate into the Wapham Road?"

"Yes."

"You have a key. Could you be there at eight tomorrow morning? If
it's fine, take your bicycle, as if you were going for a spin before
breakfast. Miss Bride never goes out before breakfast, and no one
else is likely to pass that way."

"You mean you would be there?"

"If there's anything important to tell--yes. From a quarter to
eight. I shall stay here till I know the state of things. If there's
recovery, I will go back to town, and wire to-morrow to Lady Ogram
that Ii have heard a rumour of Robb's serious illness, asking for
information. Do you agree?"

Doors were slamming; porters were shouting. May had only just time
to spring into the carriage.

"Yes!" she exclaimed, with her head at the window. Dyce doffed his
hat. They smiled at each other, May's visage flushed and agitated,
and the train whirled away.

In the carriage awaiting Miss Tomalin at Hollingford station sat
Constance Bride.

"A horrible journey!" May exclaimed, taking a seat beside her. "No
seat in a through carriage at St. Pancras. Had to change at the
junction. Somebody in the train had a fit, or something--no
wonder, with such heat! But it's cooler here. Have you had a storm?"

The footman, who had been looking after luggage, stepped up to the
carriage door and spoke to Miss Bride. He said there was a rumour in
the station that Mr. Robb, travelling by this train, had been seized
with apoplexy on the way.

"Mr. Robb!" exclaimed Constance. "Then he was the person you spoke
of?"

"I suppose so," May answered. "Queer thing!"

They drove off. Constance gazed straight before her, thinking
intently.

"If the attack is fatal," said May, "we shall have an election at
once."

"Yes," fell from her companion's lips mechanically.

"Who will be the Conservative candidate?"

"I have no idea," answered Constance, still absorbed in her
thoughts.

May cast a glance at her, and discovered emotion in the fixed eyes,
the set lips. There was a short silence, then Miss Tomalin spoke as
if an amusing thought had struck her.

"You received that American magazine from Mrs. Toplady? Isn't it an
odd coincidence--the French book, you know?"

"It didn't seem to me very striking," replied Constance, coldly.

"No? Perhaps not." May became careless. "I hadn't time to read it
myself; I only heard what Mrs. Toplady said about it."

"There was a certain resemblance between the Frenchman's phraseology
and Mr. Lashmar's," said Constance; "but nothing more. Mr. Lashmar's
system isn't easy to grasp. I doubt whether Mrs. Toplady is quite
the person to understand it."

"Perhaps not," May smiled, raising her chin. "I must read the
article myself."

"Even then," rejoined her companion, in a measured tone, "you will
hardly be able to decide as to the resemblance of the two theories."

"Why not?" asked May, sharply.

"Because you have had no opportunity of really studying Mr.
Lashmar's views."

"Oh, I assure you he has made them perfectly clear to me--
perfectly."

"In outline," said Constance, smiling as one who condescends to a
childish understanding.

"Oh no, in detail."

Miss Bride contented herself with a half-absent "Indeed?" and seemed
to resume her meditations. Whereupon, May's eyes flashed, and her
head assumed its most magnificent pose.

They exchanged not another word on the drive to Rivenoak.




CHAPTER XX




May awoke very early next morning. It was broad daylight, however,
and she hastened to look at her watch. Reassured as to the time, her
next thought regarded the weather; she stepped to the window, and
saw with vexation a rainy sky. An hour later, she again lifted the
blind to look forth. No sun was shining, but rain had ceased. She
began to dress.

At a quarter to eight, equipped for walking, she quietly left her
room and tripped down stairs. A housemaid met her in the hall; she
asked whether the front door was unlocked, and the servant went
before to open for her. Following a path which led to the rear of
the house, she was soon out in the park; in some ten minutes she
passed the old summer-house among the trees, and, with quickened
pace, came to the door which led into the Wapham Road. Before using
her key, she tapped lightly on the wood; from without there sounded
immediately an answering knock. Then she opened.

"Do you know?" asked Lashmar, eagerly, as he gave his hand,
forgetting the formal salute.

"Yes. We had the news after dinner. Mr. Breakspeare sent a message."

"He lived for about an hour. I came on to Hollingford late, and have
passed the night at the Saracen's Head. It's to be understood, of
course, that I got the news in town just in time for the last
train."

Whilst exchanging rapid sentences, they stood, one within, one
outside, the park wall. May held the door as if uncertain what to do
next.

"You can spare me a few minutes?" said Dyce, glancing this way and
that along the public way.

"Come in. I didn't bring my bicycle, as it's so wet."

"Of course not. You needn't be anxious. Nobody comes this way."

He closed the door. May was looking behind her into the frees and
bushes, which hid them from the park The sky had begun to brighten;
a breeze shook drops from the shining leafage.

"How does Lady Ogram take the news?" Lashmar inquired, trying to
speak with his wonted calm, but betraying a good deal of
nervousness.

"I haven't seen her. She was in her room when it came."

"I shouldn't wonder if she's sorry. She had set her mind on our
beating Robb at the poll. No one seems to know who will stand for
the Conservatives. I saw Breakspeare after midnight; he was in the
wildest excitement. He thinks it's good for us."

"Of course you'll see Lady Ogram to-day?"

"I shall come at lunch-time. That'll be best, won't it?"

May nodded. Her eyes kept turning in the direction of the house.

"How very kind of you to have come out so early!" said Dyce. "All
night I've been reproaching myself for giving you the trouble, and
when I saw the rain I didn't think for a moment you would be here.
I'm delighted to be able to talk to you before seeing anyone else.
Don't you think this event has happened very luckily? Whether I am
elected or not, it'll be easier for me to get out of my false
position."

"Why? How?"

"In this way. During the excitement of the election, I shall find
opportunities of speaking more freely with Lady Ogram, and who knows
but I may bring her to see that the plan she made for me was not
altogether to my advantage? Miss Bride, of course, will speak,
whenever she has a chance, in the same sense--"

"Are you sure of that?" asked May, casting a furtive glance at him.
She was boring the path with the point of her slim umbrella.

"Do you feel any doubt?" asked Dyce in turn.

"I really can't judge. It's such a very curious situation--and,"
she added, "Miss Bride is so peculiar."

"Peculiar?--I understand. You don't find her very communicative.
But I'm sure you'll make allowance for the difficulty of--"

"Oh, I make all allowances," interrupted May, with her smile of
superiority. "And of course Miss Bride's affairs don't in the least
concern me."

"Except I hope in so far as they concern me."

Dyce spoke with insinuating humour. Both hands resting on his
umbrella handle, he held himself very upright, and looked May
steadily in the face. She, as though challenged, straightened
herself and met his look.

"I should be sorry to see your career spoilt," she said, with rather
excessive dignity. "But you will admit that you have acted, to say
the least, imprudently."

"It looks so. You think I should have had _more courage_. But you
will see that it's _not too late_."

Speaking, he watched her face. He saw her lips twitch, and her eyes
stray.

"You know," he pursued, "that I _aim high_."

Her look fell.

"But no man can do without help. The strong man is he who knows how
to choose his helper, and at the right moment. I am at a crisis of
my life, and--it is to you that I turn."

"I of course feel that to be a great compliment, Mr. Lashmar," said
May, recovering her grand air. "I promise you to do what I can. But
you mustn't count on me for impossibilities."

"I count on nothing that isn't easy for _you_--with your
character, your influence."

"Thank you, again. My first piece of advice to. you is to win the
election."

"I shall do my best. If I am beaten in this, I shall win another;
you are aware of that. Are you easily discouraged? I think not."

He smiled at her with admiration. That it was genuine, May easily
perceived; how much, or how little, it implied, she did not care to
ask. These two, alike incapable of romantic passion, children of a
time which subdues everything to interest, which fosters vanity and
chills the heart, began to imagine that they were drawn to each
other by all the ardours of youth. Their minds remarkably lucid,
reviewing the situation with coolest perspicuity, calculating each
on the other's recognised weaknesses, and holding themselves
absolutely free if contingency demanded freedom, they indulged, up
to a certain point, the primitive impulse, and would fain have
discovered in it a motive of the soul. May, who had formed her
opinion as to Miss Bride's real attitude regarding Lashmar, took a
keen pleasure in the treacherous part she was playing; she
remembered the conversation last evening in the carriage, and
soothed her wounded self-esteem. Dyce, gratified by yet another
proof of his power over womankind, felt that in this case he had
something to be really proud of; Miss Tomalin's beauty and her
prospects spoke to the world at large. She was in love with him, and
he detected in himself a reciprocal emotion. Interesting and
agreeable state of things!

May, instead of directly answering his last question, allowed her
eyes to meet his for a second. Then she said:

"Some people are coming to us this afternoon."

"To stay? Who are they?"

"Sir William and Lady Amys--and Lord Dymchurch--"

"Dymchurch! Lady Ogram has invited him?"

"He would hardly come to stay without being invited," said May,
archly. "But I thought you most likely knew. Didn't Lady Ogram
mention it to you?"

"Not a word," answered Dyce. "No doubt she had a reason for saying
nothing. You, possibly, could suggest it?"

His face had changed. There was cold annoyance m his look and in his
voice.

"It must have been mere accident," said May.

"That it certainly wasn't. How long will Dymchurch stay?"

"I have no idea, Mr. Lashmar.--I must leave you. Many thanks for
taking so much trouble to bring me the news."

She held out her hand. Dyce took and detained it.

"I am going to stay on at Hollingford," he said, "at the hotel. I
shall run up to town this evening, but be back to-morrow. At
lunchtime to-day I shall see you, but of course that doesn't count;
we shan't be able to talk, Wednesday, to-morrow; on Thursday morning
meet me here again, will you?"

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Mr. Lashmar," she answered with
self-possession; trying, unobtrusively, to withdraw her hand.

"I beg you to! Indeed, you must."

He tried the power of a smile meant to be at once virile and tender,
but May was steadily drawing away her hand; he had not the courage
to hold it forcibly.

"We shall find other opportunities of talking about the things that
interest us," she said, moving a step back.

"It surprises me that you came this morning!" Dyce exclaimed, with a
touch of sarcasm.

"Then," May answered loftily, "you will be spared a second
surprise."

She turned and left him. Dyce, after watching for a moment her
graceful figure, strode in pursuit. They were near the summer-house.

"You are forgetting," he said, "that you have left the key in the
door."

May uttered an exclamation of alarm.

"How foolish of me! Thank you so much!"

"I fear I must give you the trouble of walking back, to let me out."

"Why, of course."

They returned to the door, and Dyce again took the offered hand.

"I shall be here at eight on Thursday," he said. "Unless it rains.
In that case, on the first fine morning."

"I don't promise to meet you."

"I will come without a promise."

"As you like," said May, slowly closing the door upon him. "But
don't prepare for yourself another surprise."

She regained the house, having met no one but a gardener. Within,
she encountered no one at all. Safe in her room, she reflected on
the morning's adventure, and told herself that it had been, in a
double sense, decidedly dangerous. Were Constance Bride or Lady
Ogram to know of this clandestine rendezvous, what a storm would
break! On that account alone she would have been glad of what she
had done. But she was glad, also, of Lashmar's significant behaviour
and language. He perceived, undoubtedly, that the anonymous letter
came from her, and, be the upshot what it might, their romantic
intimacy gave life a new zest. May flattered herself that she knew
the tremours of amorous emotion. "If I liked, I _could_ be really,
really in love!" This was delightful experience; this was living!
Dangerous, yes; for how did she mean to comport herself in the all
but certain event of her receiving an offer of marriage from Lord
Dymchurch? Mrs. Toplady was right; Lady Ogram had resolved upon this
marriage, and would it be safe to thwart that strong-willed old
woman? Moreover, the thought was very tempting. A peeress! Could she
reasonably look for such another chance, if this were lost? Was she
prepared to sacrifice it for the sake of Dyce Lashmar, and the
emotional joys he represented?

She thought of novels and poems. Browning was much in her mind. She
saw herself as the heroine of psychological drama. How interesting!
How thrilling! During her life at Northampton, she had dreamed of
such things, with no expectation of their ever befalling her. Truly,
she was fortune's favourite. Destiny had raised her to the sphere
where her powers and sensibilities would have full play.

So it was with radiant face that she appeared at the breakfast
table. Constance and she shook hands as usual; with everyday words.
It seemed to her that she saw disquiet in the secretary's
countenance--after all, what was Miss Bride but a salaried
secretary? Lashmar's betrothed might well suffer uneasiness, under
the circumstances; _she_, it was obvious, did not regard the
engagement as a mere pretence. No, no; Constance Bride was
ambitious, and thought it a great thing to marry a man with a
parliamentary career before him. She was of a domineering, jealous
nature, and it would exasperate her to feel that Lashmar merely used
her for his temporary purposes. Noble self-sacrifice, indeed!
Lashmar himself did not believe that. Best of all things, at this
moment, May would have liked to make known her power over Lashmar,
and to say, "Of course, dear Miss Bride, he is nothing whatever to
me. In my position, you understand--"