fraternity-第4部分

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uaintance　with　the　family　of　Dallison。　　For　one　day；　after　telling　his　chauffeur　to　meet　him　at　the　Albert　Gate；　he　had　set　out　to　stroll　down　Rotten　Row；　as　he　often　did　on　the　way　home；　designing　to　nod　to　anybody　that　he　knew。　　It　had　turned　out　a　somewhat　barren　expedition。　　No　one　of　any　consequence　had　met　his　eye；　and　it　was　with　a　certain　almost　fretful　longing　for　distraction　that　in　Kensington　Gardens　he　came　on　an　old　man　feeding　birds　out　of　a　paper　bag。　　The　birds　having　flown　away　on　seeing　him；　he　approached　the　feeder　to　apologize。

〃I'm　afraid　I　frightened　your　birds；　sir；〃　he　began。

This　old　man；　who　was　dressed　in　smoke…grey　tweeds　which　exhaled　a　poignant　scent　of　peat；　looked　at　him　without　answering。

〃I'm　afraid　your　birds　saw　me　coming；〃　Mr。　Purcey　said　again。

〃In　those　days；〃　said　the　aged　stranger；　〃birds　were　afraid　of　men。〃

Mr。　Purcey's　shrewd　grey　eyes　perceived　at　once　that　he　had　a　character　to　deal　with。

〃Ah；　yes！〃　he　said；　〃I　seeyou　allude　to　the　present　time。　　That's　very　nice。　　Ha；　ha！〃

The　old　man　answered：　〃The　emotion　of　fear　is　inseparably　connected　with　a　primitive　state　of　fratricidal　rivalry。〃

This　sentence　put　Mr。　Purcey　on　his　guard。

'The　old　chap；'　he　thought；　'is　touched。　　He　evidently　oughtn't　to　be　out　here　by　himself。'　　He　debated；　therefore；　whether　he　should　hasten　away　toward　his　car；　or　stand　by　in　case　his　assistance　should　be　needed。　　Being　a　kind…hearted　man；　who　believed　in　his　capacity　for　putting　things　to　rights；　and　noticing　a　certain　delicacya　〃sort　of　something　rather　distinguished；〃　as　he　phrased　it　afterwardsin　the　old　fellow's　face　and　figure；　he　decided　to　see　if　he　could　be　of　any　service。　　They　walked　along　together；　Mr。　Purcey　watching　his　new　friend　askance；　and　directing　the　march　to　where　he　had　ordered　his　chauffeur　to　await　him。

〃You　are　very　fond　of　birds；　I　suppose；〃　he　said　cautiously。

〃The　birds　are　our　brothers。〃

The　answer　was　of　a　nature　to　determine　Mr。　Purcey　in　his　diagnosis　of　the　case。

〃I've　got　my　car　here；〃　he　said。　　〃Let　me　give　you　a　lift　home。〃

This　new　but　aged　acquaintance　did　not　seem　to　hear；　his　lips　moved　as　though　he　were　following　out　some　thought。

〃In　those　days；〃　Mr。　Purcey　heard　him　say；　〃the　congeries　of　men　were　known　as　rookeries。　　The　expression　was　hardly　just　towards　that　handsome　bird。〃

Mr。　Purcey　touched　him　hastily　on　the　arm。

〃I've　got　my　car　here；　sir；〃　he　said。　　〃Do　let　me　put　you　down！〃

Telling　the　story　afterwards；　he　had　spoken　thus：

〃The　old　chap　knew　where　he　lived　right　enough；　but　dash　me　if　I　believe　he　noticed　that　I　was　taking　him　there　in　my　carI　had　the　A。　i。　Damyer　out。　　That's　how　I　came　to　make　the　acquaintance　of　these　Dallisons。　　He's　the　writer；　you　know；　and　she　paintsrather　the　new　schoolshe　admires　Harpignies。　　Well；　when　I　got　there　in　the　car　I　found　Dallison　in　the　garden。　　Of　course　I　was　careful　not　to　put　my　foot　into　it。　　I　told　him：　'I　found　this　old　gentleman　wandering　about。　　I've　just　brought　him　back　in　my　car。'　　Who　should　the　old　chap　turn　out　to　be　but　her　father！　　They　were　awfully　obliged　to　me。　　Charmin'　people；　but　very　what　d'you　call　it　'fin　de　siecle'like　all　these　professors；　these　artistic　pigsseem　to　know　rather　a　queer　set；　advanced　people；　and　all　that　sort　of　cuckoo；　always　talkin'　about　the　poor；　and　societies；　and　new　religions；　and　that　kind　of　thing。〃

Though　he　had　since　been　to　see　them　several　times；　the　Dallisons　had　never　robbed　him　of　the　virtuous　feeling　of　that　good　actionthey　had　never　let　him　know　that　he　had　brought　home；　not；　as　he　imagined；　a　lunatic；　but　merely　a　philosopher。

It　had　been　somewhat　of　a　quiet　shock　to　him　to　find　Mr。　Stone　close　to　the　doorway　when　he　entered　Bianca's　studio　that　afternoon；　for　though　he　had　seen　him　since　the　encounter　in　Kensington　Gardens；　and　knew　that　he　was　writing　a　book；　he　still　felt　that　he　was　not　quite　the　sort　of　old　man　that　one　ought　to　meet　about。　　He　had　at　once　begun　to　tell　him　of　the　hanging　of　the　Shoreditch　murderer；　as　recorded　in　the　evening　papers。　　Mr。　Stone's　reception　of　that　news　had　still　further　confrmed　his　original　views。　　When　all　the　guests　were　gonewith　the　exception　of　Mr。　and　Mrs。　Stephen　Dallison　and　Miss　Dallison；　〃that　awfully　pretty　girl；〃　and　the　young　man　〃who　was　always　hangin'　about　her〃he　had　approached　his　hostess　for　some　quiet　talk。　　She　stood　listening　to　him；　very　well　bred；　with　just　that　habitual　spice　of　mockery　in　her　smile；　which　to　Mr。　Purcey's　eyes　made　her　〃a　very　strikin'…lookin'　woman；　but　rather…〃　　There　he　would　stop；　for　it　required　a　greater　psychologist　than　he　to　describe　a　secret　disharmony　which　a　little　marred　her　beauty。　　Due　to　some　too　violent　cross　of　blood；　to　an　environment　too　unsuited；　to　what　notit　was　branded　on　her。　　Those　who　knew　Bianca　Dallison　better　than　Mr。　Purcey　were　but　too　well　aware　of　this　fugitive；　proud　spirit　permeating　one　whose　beauty　would　otherwise　have　passed　unquestioned。

She　was　a　little　taller　than　Cecilia；　her　figure　rather　fuller　and　more　graceful；　her　hair　darker；　her　eyes；　too；　darker　and　more　deeply　set；　her　cheek…bones　higher；　her　colouring　richer。　　That　spirit　of　the　age；　Disharmony；　must　have　presided　when　a　child　so　vivid　and　dark…coloured　was　christened　Bianca。

Mr。　Purcey；　however；　was　not　a　man　who　allowed　the　finest　shades　of　feeling　to　interfere　with　his　enjoyments。　　She　was　a　〃strikin'…　lookin'　woman；〃　and　there　was；　thanks　to　Harpignies；　a　link　between　them。

〃Your　father　and　I；　Mrs。　Dallison；　can't　quite　understand　each　other；〃　he　began。　　〃Our　views　of　life　don't　seem　to　hit　it　off　exactly。〃

〃Really；〃　murmured　Bianca；　〃I　should　have　thought　that　you'd　have　got　on　so　well。〃

〃He's　a　little　bit　tooerscriptural　for　me；　perhaps；〃　said　Mr。　Purcey；　with　some　delicacy。

〃Did　we　never　tell　you；〃　Bianca　answered　softly；　〃that　my　father　was　a　rather　wellknown　man　of　science　before　his　illness？〃

〃Ah！〃　replied　Mr。　Purcey；　a　little　puzzled；　〃that；　of　course。　　D'you　know；　of　all　your　pictures；　Mrs。　Dallison；　I　think　that　one　you　call　'The　Shadow'　is　the　most　rippin'。　　There's　a　something　about　it　that　gets　hold　of　you。　　That　was　the　original；　wasn't　it；　at　your　Christmas　partyattractive　girlit's　an　awf'ly　good　likeness。〃

Bianca's　face　had　changed；　but　Mr。　Purcey　was　not　a　man　to　notice　a　little　thing　like　that。

〃If　ever　you　want　to　part　with　it；〃　he　said；　〃I　hope　you'll　give　me　a　chance。　　I　mean　it'd　be　a　pleasure　to　me　to　have　it。　　I　think　it'll　be　worth　a　lot　of　money　some　day。〃

Bianca　did　not　answer；　and　Mr。　Purcey；　feeling　suddenly　a　little　awkward；　said：　〃I've　got　my　car　waiting。　　I　must　be　offreally。〃　Shaking　hands　with　all　of　them；　he　went　away。

When　the　door　had　closed　behind　his　back；　a　universal　sigh　went　up。　It　was　followed　by　a　silence；　which　Hilary　broke。

〃We'll　smoke；　Stevie；　if　Cis　doesn't　mind。〃

Stephen　Dallison　placed　a　cigarette　between　his　moustacheless　lips；　always　rather　screwed　up；　and　ready　to　nip　with　a　smile　anything　that　might　make　him　feel　ridiculous。

〃Phew！〃　he　said。　　〃Our　friend　Purcey　becomes　a　little　tedious。　　He　seems　to　take　the　whole　of　Philistia　about　with　him。〃

〃He's　a　very　decent　fellow；〃　murmured　Hilary。

〃A　bit　heavy；　surely！〃　Stephen　Dallison's　face；　though　also　long　and　narrow；　was　not　much　like　his　brother's。　　His　eyes；　though　not　unkind；　were　far　more　scrutinising；　inquisitive；　and　practical；　his　hair　darker；　smoother。

Letting　a　puff　；of　smoke　escape；　he　added：

〃Now；　that's　the　sort　of　man　to　give　you　a　good　sound　opinion。　　You　should　have　asked　him；　Cis。〃

Cecilia　answered　with　a　frown：

〃Don't　chaff；　Stephen；　I'm　perfectly　serious　about　Mrs。　Hughs。〃

〃Well；　I　don't　see　what　I　can　do　for　the　good　woman；　my　dear。　　One　can't　interfere　in　these　domestic　matters。〃

〃But　it　seems　dreadful　that　we　who　employ　her　should　be　able　to　do　nothing　for　her。　　Don't　you　think　so；　B。？〃

〃I　suppose　we　could　do　something　for　her　if　we　wanted　to　badly　enough。〃

Bianca's　voice；　which　had　the　self…distrustful　ring　of　modern　music；　suited　her　personality。

A　glance　passed　between　Stephen　and　his　wife。

〃That's　B。　　all　over！〃　it　seemed　to　say。。。。

〃Hound　Street；　where　they　live；　is　a　horrid　place。〃

It　was　Thyme　who　spoke；　and　everybody　looked　round　at　her。

〃How　do　you　know　that？〃　　asked　Cecilia。

〃I　went　to　see。〃

〃With　whom？〃

〃Martin。〃

The　lips　of　the　young　man　whose　name　she　mentioned　curled　sarcastically。

Hilary　asked　gently：

〃Well；　my　dear；　what　did　you　see？〃

〃Most　of　the　doors　are　open…〃

Bianca　murmured：　〃That　doesn't　tell　us　much。〃

〃On　the　contrary；〃　said　Martin　suddenly；　in　a　deep　bass　voice；　〃it　tells　you　everything。　　Go　on。〃

〃The　Hughs　live　on　the　top　floor　at　No。　1。　　It's　the　best　house　in　the　street。　　On　the　ground…floor　are　some　people　called　Budgen；　he's　a　labourer；　and　she's　lame。　　They've　got　one　son。　　The　Hughs　have　let　off　the　first…floor　front…room　to　an　old　man　named　Creed…〃

〃Yes；　I　know；〃　Cecilia　muttered。

〃He　makes　about　one　and　tenpence　a　day　by　selling　papers。　　The　back…　room　on　that　floor　they　let；　of　course；　to　your　little　model；　Aunt　B。〃

〃She　is　not　my　model　now。〃

There　was　a　silence　such　as　falls　when　no　on