The Brother of Daphne

by Dornford Yates

  CHAPTER V

  THE JUDGEMENT OF PARIS

  "I suppose," said Daphne. "I suppose you think you're funny."

  Her husband regarded his cigarette with a frown. "Not at all," hereplied. "Only there's nothing doing. That's all. My mind is madeup. This correspondence must now cease. For myself, as bread-winnerand--"

  "Never did a day's work in your life," said Jonah.

  "And one of the world's workers (so you're wrong, you see)--"

  "Of course he's going," said I, looking up. "Only what as?"

  "Why not himself?" said Jill.

  "M, no," said I. "We must find something out of the common. Amountebank's too ordinary. I want our party to be one of the featuresof the ball."

  "Would it be asking you too much to shut your face?" said Berry."Nobody spoke to you. Nobody wants to speak to you. I will gofurther. Nobody--"

  "Could he go as a cook, d'you think?" said Daphne. "A chef-thing, Imean. They had cooks, of course. Or a wine-butler? They must havehad--"

  "Or a birthright?" said Berry. "We know they had birthrights. And I'dsooner be a birthright than a wine-cooler any day. Besides, Jonahcould go as a mess of pottage. There's an idea for you. Talk aboutoriginality!"

  "Originality!" said his wife contemptuously. "Studied imbecility, youmean. Anyone can originate drivel."

  "It's in the blood," said Jonah. "One of his uncles was a Master inLunacy."

  I laid down my pen and leaned back in my chair.

  "It comes to this," said I. "Whatever he goes as, he'll play the fool.Am I right, sir?"

  "Yes," said every one.

  "(A voice, 'Shame')," said Berry.

  "Consequently he must be given a part which he can clown withoutqueering the whole scene."

  "Exactly," said Daphne.

  "What d'you mean, talking about parts and scenes?" said Berry. "Ithought it was going to be a ball."

  "So it is," said his wife. "But people are taking parties, and everyparty's going to represent some tale or picture or play or a bit of it.I've told you all this once."

  "Twice," corrected her husband. "Once last night with eclat, and oncethis morning with your mouth full, Jilly's told me three times, and theothers once each. That's seven altogether. Eight, with this. I'mbeginning to get the hang of the thing. Tell me again."

  His voice subsided into the incoherent muttering, which immediatelyprecedes slumber. This was too much. In silence Jonah handed Daphnehis cigarette. By stretching out an arm, as she lay on the sofa, mysister was just able to apply the burning tobacco to the lobe of herhusband's ear. With a yell the latter flung his feet from theclub-kerb and sat up in his chair. When he turned, Jonah was placidlysmoking in the distance, while Daphne met her victim's accusing eyewith a disdainful stare, her hands empty in her lap. The table, atwhich I was writing, shook with Jill's suppressed merriment.

  "The stake's upstairs," said Berry bitterly. "Or would you rathergouge out my eyes? Will you flay me alive? Because if so, I'll go andget the knives and things. What about after tea? Or would you ratherget it over?"

  "You shouldn't be so tiresome," said Daphne. Berry shook his headsorrowfully.

  "Listen," he said. "The noise you hear is not the bath running away.No, no. My heart is bleeding, sister."

  "Better sear that, too," said his wife, reaching for Jonah's cigarette.

  It was just then that my eyes, wandering round the library, lighted ona copy of "Don Quixote." "The very thing," said I suddenly.

  "What?" said Jill.

  "Berry can go as Sancho Panza."

  The others stared at me. Berry turned to his wife.

  "You and Jill run along, dear, and pad the boxroom. Jonah and I'llhumour him till you're ready."

  "Sancho Panza?" said Daphne. "But we're going to do The Caliph'sWedding out of the Arabian Nights."

  "Let's drop the Eastern touch," I said, getting up from the table."It's sure to be overdone. Give them a page of Cervantes instead.Jonah can be Don Quixote. You'll make a priceless Dorothea in boy'sclothes, with your hair down your back. Jilly can be---- Wait aminute."

  I stepped to the shelf and picked out the old quarto. After a moment'ssearch:

  "Here you are," said I. "Daughter of Don Diego. Sancho Panza strikesher when he's going the rounds at night. 'She was beautiful as athousand pearls, with her hair inclosed under a net of gold and greensilk.' And I can be the Squire of the Wood, complete with false nose."

  "I rather like the idea," said Daphne, "only--"

  "Wait till I find the description of Dorothea," said I, turning overthe pages. "Here it is. Read that, my dear," and I handed her thebook.

  In silence my sister read the famous lines. Then she laid the bookdown, and slipped an arm round my neck.

  "Boy," she said, "you flatter me, but I can sit on my hair."

  Then and there it was decided to illustrate Cervantes.

  "And Sancho can wear his governor's dress," said Jill.

  "Quarter of an hour back," said Berry, "-I told you that it was nogood ordering the wild horses, because nothing would induce me to go.Since then my left ear has been burned, as with a hot iron. Under thecircumstances it is hardly likely that--"

  "Oh dear," said Daphne wearily.

  I reached for the telephone and picked up the receiver.

  "Number, please."

  "Exchange," I said, "there is here a fat swab."

  "What?"

  "Swab," said I. "I'll spell it. S for soldier, W, A for apple, B forBaldwin."

  "Have you a complaint to make?"

  "That's it," said I:

  "About this swab. You see, he won't go to the ball. His ticket hasbeen bought, his role chosen, his face passed over. And yet--"

  "Mayfair supervisor," said a voice.

  "That's done it," said I.

  "I mean--er--Supervisor."

  "Speaking."

  "I want to complain about our swab here."

  "Oh yes. Can you tell me what's wrong with it?"

  "I think its liver must be out of order."

  "Very well. I'll report it to the engineers. They'll send a man downto-morrow."

  "Thanks awfully."

  "Good-bye."

  I replaced the receiver and crossed to where Berry was sitting, nursinghis wounded ear.

  "They're going to report you to the engineers," I said shortly. "A manwill be down to-morrow."

  "As for you," said my brother-in-law, "I take it your solicitors willaccept service. For the others, what shall I say? Just because Ihesitate to put off my mantle of dignity and abase this noble intellectby associating with a herd of revellers and--er--"

  "Libertines?" said Jonah.

  "Toss-pots, my ears are to be burned and foul aspersions cast upon aliver, till then spotless. Am I discouraged? No. Emboldened rather.In short, I will attend the rout."

  "At last," sighed Daphne.

  "My dear. I ordered the supper yesterday. We're sharing a table withthe Scarlets. But you needn't have burned my ear."

  "Only means some one was talking about you," said Daphne. "Why did yousay you weren't going?"

  "A passion for perversity," said I.

  Berry stole a cautious glance at the time. The hands stood at aquarter past three. A slow grin spread over his countenance.

  "Didn't you say something about a sacred concert?" he said. "GoodHeavens," cried Daphne, jumping up. "I forgot all about it. It beginsat thr--"

  Arrested by her husband's seraphic smile, she swung round and looked atthe clock.

  Berry apostrophized the carpet.

  "Sweet are the uses of perversity," he said, with inimitableinflection. For a moment his wife eyed him, speechless withinindignation. Then:

  "I hope you've got ear-ache," she said.

  Berry settled himself among the cushions.

  "I have," he said, "But back-ache would have been worse."

  I sank back in my seat with an injured ai
r. The coach swayed slightly,as it rattled over the points. The train was gathering speed. In thefar corner of the compartment the brooch of a gay green hat winked atme over the top of The Daily Glass.

  "That's a nice thing," said I.

  "What?" said the girl, laying down her paper.

  "Oh, nothing. Only the train's run through the station I was going toget out at. That's all."

  "How tiresome for you!"

  "There are consolations. You would never have opened your small redmouth, but for my exclamation. And I should never have exclaimed, butfor--"

  "It's very rude to make personal remarks." This severely.

  "Only when the person's plain or the remark rude. Note thealliteration."

  "What are you going to do?

  "Obey orders, I suppose." said I, pointing to the door.

  "'Wait until the train stops?'"

  "I think so," said I, looking at the flashing hedgerows.

  "You see, I've given up acting for the pictures. Otherwise, I shouldadjust my handcuffs, run along the foot-board, and dive in thedirection of the nearest pond."

  "While I--?"

  "Lay perfectly still. You see, I should be carrying you in my teeth."

  "Thanks awfully."

  "Not at all. It's a great life."

  "It's a rotten death."

  "Possibly. Otherwise, you emerge from the infirmary to find that AJump for Life has already left the Edgware Road for Reading and iseagerly expected at Stockton-on-Tees, that the company for which youwork is paying twenty-seven percent and that rehearsals for Kicked toDeath begin on Monday. However."

  I stopped. The girl was leaning back in her corner, laughinghelplessly.

  "It's all very fine to laugh," said I. "How would you like to becarried a county and a half beyond your station?"

  "You should have asked before you got in."

  "Asked?" said I. "The only person I didn't ask was the trafficsuperintendent himself. They said he was away on his holiday."

  "They can't have understood what you said."

  "I admit my articulation is defective--has been ever since a fellowbacked into my car at Brooklands, did it twenty pounds' worth ofdamage, and then sent in a bill for a new tail-lamp. At the sametime--"

  Here another station roared by. I was too late to see the name. "Ishall swear in a minute," said I. "I can feel it coming. I suppose wedo stop somewhere, if only to coal, don't we?"

  "Well, we may stop before, but I know we stop at Friars Rory, becausethat's where I get out."

  I turned to her open-mouthed. She was consulting a wrist-watch and didnot see the look on my face. Friars Rory was where I was bound for.We had run through the station ten minutes ago. I knew the place well.I had just time to recover, when she looked up.

  "We're late now," she said. "I expect that's why we're going so fast."

  "You know," I said, "I don't believe you asked either."

  "If this was the right train? Well, I've used it, going down to hunt,for two seasons. Besides, I told a porter--"

  "Can't have understood what you said," said I, producing mycigarette-case. "Will you smoke? There's plenty of time."

  "What d'you mean?"

  "I was going to Rory, too. My dear, if this train really stops there,there must be the very deuce of a hairpin corner coming, or else we'reon the Inner Circle. We've passed it once, you know, about nine milesback, I should think. No, twelve. This is Shy Junction." We roaredbetween the platforms. "Wonderful how they put these engines along,isn't it?"

  But my companion was staring out of the window. The next moment sheswung round and looked at me wildly. Gravely I offered her acigarette. She waved me away impatiently.

  "Have we really passed Rory?" she said.

  "Ages ago," said I. "Your porter can't possibly have under--"

  She stamped a small foot, bright in its patent-leather shoe.

  "Aren't you going to do anything?" she demanded.

  "I am already composing a letter to the absent traffic superintendentwhich will spoil his holiday. I shall say that, in spite of the factthat the dark lady with the eyes and the seal-skin coat asked theporter with the nose--"

  "Idiot. Can't you do anything now?"

  "I can wave to the engine-driver as we go round a bend if you thinkit's any good, or, of course, there's always the communication cord,only--"

  I broke off and looked at her. There was trouble in her great eyes.The small foot tapped the floor nervously. One gloved hand gripped thearm of her seat. I could have sworn the red lips quivered a momentago. I leaned forward.

  "Lass," I said, "is it important that you should be at Friars Rory thismorning?"

  She looked up quickly. Then, with a half-laugh, "I did want torather," she said. "But it can't be helped. You see, my mare, DearOne--she's been taken ill, and--and--oh, I am a fool," she said,turning away, her big eyes full of tears.

  "No, you're not," said I sturdily, patting her hand.

  "I know what it is to have a sick horse. Buck up, lass! We'll bethere within the hour."

  "What d'you mean?" she said, feeling in her bag for a handkerchief.

  "I have a plan," said I mysteriously. "Can't you find it?"

  She felt in the pocket of her coat and turned to the bag again.

  "I'm afraid my maid must have--"

  I took a spare handkerchief from my breast-pocket.

  "Would you care to honour me by using this to--er--"

  "Go on," she said, taking it with a smile.

  "To brush away some of the prettiest tears--"

  She laughed exquisitely, put the handkerchief to her eyes, and thensmiled her thanks over the white cambric. I let down the windownearest me and put out my head. A long look assured me that we werenearing Ringley. My idea was to pull the cord, stop the train in thestation, pay the fine, and raise a car in the town, which should bringus to Rory in forty minutes by road.

  "But what are you going to do?" said the girl.

  "Wait," said I over my shoulder. Again I put out my head. In thedistance I could see red houses--Ringley. I put up my right hand andfelt for the chain. As I did so, there seemed to be less weigh on thetrain--a strange feeling. I hesitated, the wind flying in my face. Wewere not going so fast--so evenly. Yet, if we had run through ShyJunction, surely we were not going to stop at---- The next moment Isaw what it was. We were the last coach, and there was a gap, wideningslowly, between us and the rest of the train. We had been slipped. Itook in my head to find my companion clasping my arm and crying.

  "No, no. You mustn't, you mustn't. You're awfully good, but--"

  "It's all right," I said. "I didn't have to. We're in the Ringleyslip."

  "And we're going to stop there?"

  "Probably with an unconscionable jerk--a proper full stop. None ofyour commas for a slip. But there! I might have known. It's a longtrain that breaks no journey, and there's many a slip 'twixt Town andthe North of England. However. If there isn't a train back soon, I'mgoing to charter a car. May I have the honour of driving you back toRory and the mare? I'm sure the sight of her mistress will put her onher legs again quicker than all the slings and mashes of outrageoussurgeons. I take it you know your Macbeth?"

  She laughed merrily. I looked at her appreciatively, sitting oppositeand perched, as I was, on one of the compartment's dividing arms.

  "Sunshine after rain," I murmured. Sweet she looked in her gay greenhat and her long seal-skin coat. Beneath this, the green of a skirtabove the slim silk stockings and the bright shoes. Gloves and bag onthe seat by her side. The face was eager, clear-cut, its featuresregular. But only the great eyes mattered. Perhaps, also, the mouth--

  "You're a kind man," she said slowly. "And it was sweet of you tothink of pulling the cord. But I should have been awfully upset, ifyou had."

  The coach ran alongside of the platform and stopped with a jerk thatflung me backwards and my lady on to my chest. I sat up with my armsf
ull of fur-coat, while its owner struggled to regain her feet.

  "Infants in arms need not be paid for," said I, setting her uprightwith a smile. "I hope the station-master saw you, or he mightn'tbelieve---- Where were we? Oh, I know. You'd have been upset, wouldyou? More upset than this?"

  "Oh, much," she said, her eyebrows raised above a faint smile. "Yousee, then I should have been upset properly."

  As she spoke, she laid a hand on my shoulder, to steady herself, whileshe peered into the mirror above my head. I looked round and up at thesmiling face, six inches away.

  "Then I wish I had," said I. One hand was settling her plumed hat.Without looking down, she set the other firmly upon my chin, and turnedmy face round and away.

  "Open the door and hand me out nicely," she said.

  I rose and put on my hat.

  "Do you ever play the piano?" I said suddenly.

  "Why?"

  "I was thinking of the fingers. You have such an exquisite touch."

  The evident pleasure the chestnut mare evinced at her mistress'sarrival was a real tribute to personality. Also the vet's morningreport was more satisfactory. It seemed that Dear One was mending.Greatly comforted, my lady let me give her lunch at the Duck Inn.Afterwards--there being no train till four o'clock--she came with me tochoose a spaniel pup. It was to purchase him that I had started forFriars Rory that sunshiny day.

  "What shall you call him?" she said, as we made our way to thekennels. "I really don't know," said I. "What about Seal-skin? Mustbe something in memory of to-day."

  She laughed merrily. Then:

  "Why not Non-Stop?"

  "I know," I said. "I'll call him Upset."

  Three black and white urchins gambolled about us, flapping ears,wagging ridiculous tails, uncertainly stumbling about upon baby legs.

  "Oh, you darlings," said the girl, stooping among them, caressing, inturn caressed. She raised a radiant face to me.

  "However will you choose which you'll have?"

  I leaned against the wall and regarded the scene before me.

  "I like the big one best," I said.

  "The big one?" she said, standing up. "Aren't they all the same--"

  "The one on its hind legs," said I. "With the big eyes."

  "Ah," she said, smiling. "But that's not for sale, I'm afraid.Besides, its temper's very uncertain, as you know."

  "I'd risk that. The spaniel is renowned for its affectionatedisposition. And what dog wouldn't turn, if it was put in the wrongtrain? Besides, your coat's so silky."

  "But I'm sure my ears don't droop, and I've never had distemper. Thenthere's my pedigree. You don't know--"

  "Don't I? By A Long Chalk, out of The Common's good enough for mostpeople."

  "Oh, you are hopeless!" she said, laughing. She turned to thescrambling pups. "Who's for a mad master?" she said.

  Suddenly a bulldog appeared. She stood regarding us for a moment, hermassive head a little on one side. Then a great smile spread over hercountenance, and she started to sway in our direction, wagging agreeting with her hind quarters, as bulldogs do. Two of the puppiesloped off to meet her. The long-suffering way in which she permittedthem to mouth her argued that she was accustomed to being the kindlybutt of their exuberance. The third turned to follow his fellows,hesitated, caught my lady's eye, and rushed back to his new-foundfriend.

  "That's the one for me," said I. "Give me good judgment. I shall callhim Paris."

  "Appropriately. Off with the old love and on with the new. I'm surehe's faithless, and I expect the bulldog's been awfully kind to him,haven't you, dear?" She patted the snuffling beauty. "Besides, Igave him the glad eye, which wasn't fair."

  "I'll bet that's how Venus got the apple, if the truth were known. Anyway, I'm going to choose him for choosing you. You see. We shall geton well."

  "Juno, Juno!" cried a woman's voice from the house. Immediately thebulldog started and turned towards the doorway.

  "What did I say?" said I. "Something seemed to tell me you were agoddess, when--"

  "When?"

  "When you were upset this morning. I saw you very close then, you see.Well! What sort of weather have you been having in Olympus lately?And how's Vulcan? I suppose Cupid must be getting quite a big boy?"

  She laughed. "You wouldn't know him if you saw him," she said.

  "Don't be too sure. When does he go to the 'Varsity? Or shan't yousend him?"

  "He's there now. Doing awfully well, too!"

  "Taken a first in the Honour School of Love, I suppose? Is he as gooda shot as ever?"

  "He's a very good son."

  "Ought to be," said I.

  "Yes," she said steadily, gazing with eyes half-closed, over the fieldsand hedgerows, away to the distant hills, the faintest smile hung onher parted lips. "He's never given me a day's trouble since he wasborn. I don't think he will, either, not for a long time, any way."

  Thoughtfully I pulled on my gloves. Then:

  "My dear," said I, "for that boast you may shortly expect a judgment."

  "More judgments?" she cried with a laugh, turning to look at me, thestraight brows raised in mockery. "Which will cost you more, my fairOlympian, than a glad eye."

  A quarter past five. The train was passing through the outskirts ofLondon. A bare ten minutes more, and we should arrive. I lookedanxiously at the girl, wondering where, when, how I should see heragain. For the last half-hour we had spoken but little. She hadseemed sleepy, and I had begged her to rest. Dreamily she had thankedme, saying that she had had little sleep the night before. Then theeyes had smiled gently and disappeared. It was almost dark now, soswift had been the passing of the winter's day. Lights shone andblinked out of the darkness. Another train roared by, and weslackened speed. Slowly we crawled over a bridge spanning meanstreets. One could not but mark the bustling scene below. The suddendin compelled attention. I looked down upon the writhing traffic, theglistening roadway, the pavements crowded with hurrying, jostlingforms. An over-lighted public house made the cheap shops seem ill-lit,poorer still. Its dirty splendour dominated everything: even the talltrams took on a lesser light. The lumbering roar of wheels, theinsistent clamour of an obstructed tram, the hoarse shouts of hawkerscrying their wares--all this rose up above the rumble of theslow-moving train. I was glad when we had left the spot behind. Itwould not do after the country-side. It occurred to me that, but alittle space back some seventy rolling years--here also had stretchedfair green fields. Perchance the very ones poor dying Falstaff hadbabbled of. We slunk past an asylum--a long mass, dark, sinister. Bythis even the trams seemed to hasten. I could just hear their thinsong, as they slid forward.

  Enough. Already I was half-way to depression. Resolutely I turned,giving the window my shoulder. My Lady had not stirred. Wistfully Iregarded her closed eyes. In five minutes we should be in, and therewere things I wanted to say... A smile crept into the gentle face.

  "Go on," she said quietly. "I'm listening."

  "I was wondering, goddess, if I should ever see you again."

  "Oh, probably! The world's awfully small. Not for some time, though.I leave for Cannes to-morrow, to join my people."

  "Cannes!" I exclaimed.

  "Yes. You must have heard of it. Where the weather comes from."

  "Where it stays, you mean," I growled, as the rising wind flung ahandful of raindrops against the windows. For a moment I sat silent,looking out into the night, thinking. Except for a luncheon, to-morrowwas free. And I could cut that. A network of shining rails showedthat the terminus was at hand. I turned to my lady.

  "Then we shall meet again to-morrow," I said gravely. "I have to godown to Dover, too."

  "What for?" This suspiciously.

  I rose and took up my hat. "Another dog," I said shortly.

  She broke into silvery merriment. At length:

  "Nonsense," she said, rising.

  "Not at all," said I. "The Dove
r dogs are famous."

  "Sea-dogs, perhaps," she murmured, setting one knee on the cushions tolook into the glass. "Well, you've been awfully kind, and I'm verygrateful. And now--" she swung round--"good-bye." She held out a slimhand.

  The train drew up to the platform.

  "Good-bye?" said I, taking the cool fingers. She nodded.

  "And I hope you'll get a good dog at Dover," she said, smiling. "Ishall think of you. You see, I'm going by Folkestone and Boulogne."

  In silence I bent over the slight fingers. Slowly they slipped away.

  I opened the door. Then I turned to the girl.

  "You know," I said, "the Folkestone dogs."

  "At last," said Berry, as the car swung into line in Kensington Gore,about a furlong from the doors of the Albert Hall. "A short hour and aquarter, and we shall be there. Can anyone tell me why I consented tocome?"

  "To please yourself," said Daphne shortly.

  "Wrong," said her husband. "The correct answer will appear in our nextissue. Five million consolation prizes will be awarded to those who,in the opinion of--"

  "Have you got the tickets?" said his wife.

  "Tickets!" said Berry contemptuously. "I've had to put myhandkerchief in my shoe, and my cigarette-case has lodged slightly tothe right and six inches below my heart. You'll have to make a ringround me, if I want to smoke."

  "Have you got the tickets?" said Daphne.

  "My dear, I distinctly remember giving them to--"

  A perfect shriek went up from Daphne and Jill. The footman slipped onto the step and opened the door.

  "Did you call, madam?"

  "Yes," said Berry. "Give Mrs. Pleydell the tickets."

  Our party was an undoubted success. Jonah looked wonderful, Daphneand Jill priceless. With her magnificent hair unbound, her simpleboy's dress, her little rough shoes at the foot of legs bare to theknee, my sister was a glorious sight. And an exquisite Jill, in greenand white and gold, ruffled it with the daintiest air and a light inher grey eyes that shamed her jewellery. Berry was simply immense. Abrilliant make-up, coupled with the riotous extravagance of his dress,carried him half-way. But the pomp of carriage, the circumstance ofgait which he assumed, the manner of the man beggar description.Cervantes would have wept with delight, could he have witnessed it.The Squire of the Wood passed.

  And did little else. And that somewhat listlessly, till he saw mylady. That was just after supper, and she was sitting on the edge of abox, scanning her programme. All lovely, dressed as Potpourri.

  "You were right," said I. "The world is small." We floated into themusic. "So is your waist. But, then I learned that this morning. So.When you were upset."

  "Do you like my dress?"

  "Love it. Where did it come from?"

  She mentioned a French firm.

  "Ah!" said I, "Give me the judgment of Paris."