by H. G. Wells
CHAPTER XX.
THE CAREER IS SUSPENDED.
On the Wednesday afternoon following this--it was hard upon thebotanical examination--Mr. Lewisham was observed by Smithers in thebig Education Library reading in a volume of the BritishEncyclopaedia. Beside him were the current Whitaker's Almanac, an opennote-book, a book from the Contemporary Science Series, and theScience and Art Department's Directory. Smithers, who had a profoundsense of Lewisham's superiority in the art of obtaining facts of valuein examinations, wondered for some minutes what valuable tip for astudent in botany might be hidden in Whitaker, and on reaching hislodgings spent some time over the landlady's copy. But really Lewishamwas not studying botany, but the art of marriage according to the bestauthorities. (The book from the Contemporary Science Series wasProfessor Letourneau's "Evolution of Marriage." It was interestingcertainly, but of little immediate use.)
From Whitaker Lewisham learnt that it would be possible at a cost ofL2, 6s. 1d. or L2, 7s. 1d. (one of the items was ambiguous) to getmarried within the week--that charge being exclusive of vails--at thedistrict registry office. He did little addition sums in thenote-book. The church fees he found were variable, but for morepersonal reasons he rejected a marriage at church. Marriage bycertificate at a registrar's involved an inconvenient delay. It wouldhave to be L2, 7s. 1d. Vails--ten shillings, say.
Afterwards, without needless ostentation, he produced a cheque-bookand a deposit-book, and proceeded to further arithmetic. He found thathe was master of L61, 4s. 7d. Not a hundred as he had said, but a finebig sum--men have started great businesses on less. It had been ahundred originally. Allowing five pounds for the marriage and moving,this would leave about L56. Plenty. No provision was made for flowers,carriages, or the honeymoon. But there would be a typewriter tobuy. Ethel was to do her share....
"It will be a devilish close thing," said Lewisham with a quiteunreasonable exultation. For, strangely enough, the affair wasbeginning to take on a flavour of adventure not at all unpleasant. Heleant back in his chair with the note-book closed in his hand....
But there was much to see to that afternoon. First of all he had todiscover the district superintendent registrar, and then to find alodging whither he should take Ethel--their lodging, where they wereto live together.
At the thought of that new life together that was drawing so near, shecame into his head, vivid and near and warm....
He recovered himself from a day dream. He became aware of a libraryattendant down the room leaning forward over his desk, gnawing the tipof a paper knife after the fashion of South Kensington libraryattendants, and staring at him curiously. It occurred to Lewisham thatthought reading was one of the most possible things in the world. Heblushed, rose clumsily and took the volume of the Encyclopaedia backto its shelf.
He found the selection of lodgings a difficult business. After hisfirst essay he began to fancy himself a suspicious-looking character,and that perhaps hampered him. He had chosen the district southwardof the Brompton Road. It had one disadvantage--he might blunder into ahouse with a fellow-student.... Not that it mattered vitally. But thefact is, it is rather unusual for married couples to live permanentlyin furnished lodgings in London. People who are too poor to take ahouse or a flat commonly find it best to take part of a house orunfurnished apartments. There are a hundred couples living inunfurnished rooms (with "the use of the kitchen") to one in furnishedin London. The absence of furniture predicates a dangerous want ofcapital to the discreet landlady. The first landlady Lewishaminterviewed didn't like ladies, they required such a lot ofattendance; the second was of the same mind; the third toldMr. Lewisham he was "youngish to be married;" the fourth said she only"did" for single "gents." The fifth was a young person with an archmanner, who liked to know all about people she took in, and subjectedLewisham to a searching cross-examination. When she had spitted himin a downright lie or so, she expressed an opinion that her rooms"would scarcely do," and bowed him amiably out.
He cooled his ears and cheeks by walking up and down the street for aspace, and then tried again. This landlady was a terrible and pitifulperson, so grey and dusty she was, and her face deep lined with dustand trouble and labour. She wore a dirty cap that was all askew. Shetook Lewisham up into a threadbare room on the first floor, "There'sthe use of a piano," she said, and indicated an instrument with afront of torn green silk. Lewisham opened the keyboard and evoked avibration of broken strings. He took one further survey of the dismalplace, "Eighteen shillings," he said. "Thank you ... I'll let youknow." The woman smiled with the corners of her mouth down, andwithout a word moved wearily towards the door. Lewisham felt atransient wonder at her hopeless position, but he did not pursue theinquiry.
The next landlady sufficed. She was a clean-looking German woman,rather smartly dressed; she had a fringe of flaxen curls and a volubleflow of words, for the most part recognisably English. With this shesketched out remarks. Fifteen shillings was her demand for a minutebedroom and a small sitting-room, separated by folding doors on theground floor, and her personal services. Coals were to be "sixpence akettle," she said--a pretty substitute for scuttle. She had notunderstood Lewisham to say he was married. But she had no hesitation."Aayteen shillin'," she said imperturbably. "Paid furs day ich wik... See?" Mr. Lewisham surveyed the rooms again. They looked clean,and the bonus tea vases, the rancid, gilt-framed oleographs, twotoilet tidies used as ornaments, and the fact that the chest ofdrawers had been crowded out of the bedroom into the sitting-room,simply appealed to his sense of humour. "I'll take 'em from Saturdaynext," he said.
She was sure he would like them, and proposed to give him his bookforthwith. She mentioned casually that the previous lodger had been acaptain and had stayed three years. (One never hears by any chance oflodgers stopping for a shorter period.) Something happened (German)and now he kept his carriage--apparently an outcome of his stay. Shereturned with a small penny account-book, a bottle of ink and anexecrable pen, wrote Lewisham's name on the cover of this, and areceipt for eighteen shillings on the first page. She was evidently aperson of considerable business aptitude. Lewisham paid, and thetransaction terminated. "Szhure to be gomfortable," followed himcomfortingly to the street.
Then he went on to Chelsea and interviewed a fatherly gentleman at theVestry offices. The fatherly gentleman was chubby-faced andspectacled, and his manner was sympathetic but business-like. He"called back" each item of the interview, "And what can I do for you?You wish to be married! By licence?"
"By licence."
"By licence!"
And so forth. He opened a book and made neat entries of theparticulars.
"The lady's age?"
"Twenty-one."
"A very suitable age ... for a lady."
He advised Lewisham to get a ring, and said he would need twowitnesses.
"_Well_--" hesitated Lewisham.
"There is always someone about," said the superintendentregistrar. "And they are quite used to it."
Thursday and Friday Lewisham passed in exceedingly high spirits. Noconsciousness of the practical destruction of the Career seems to havetroubled him at this time. Doubt had vanished from his universe for aspace. He wanted to dance along the corridors. He felt curiouslyirresponsible and threw up an unpleasant sort of humour that pleasednobody. He wished Miss Heydinger many happy returns of the day,_apropos_ of nothing, and he threw a bun across the refreshment roomat Smithers and hit one of the Art School officials. Both wereextremely silly things to do. In the first instance he was penitentimmediately after the outrage, but in the second he added insult toinjury by going across the room and asking in an offensivelysuspicious manner if anyone had seen his bun. He crawled under a tableand found it at last, rather dusty but quite eatable, under the chairof a lady art student. He sat down by Smithers to eat it, while heargued with the Art official. The Art official said the manners of theScience students were getting unbearable, and threatened to bring thematter before the refreshment-room committee. Lewisham said it was apity to make su
ch a fuss about a trivial thing, and proposed that theArt official should throw his lunch--steak and kidney pudding--acrossthe room at him, Lewisham, and so get immediate satisfaction. He thenapologised to the official and pointed out in extenuation that it wasa very long and difficult shot he had attempted. The official thendrank a crumb, or breathed some beer, or something of that sort, andthe discussion terminated. In the afternoon, however, Lewisham, tohis undying honour, felt acutely ashamed of himself. Miss Heydingerwould not speak to him.
On Saturday morning he absented himself from the schools, pleading bypost a slight indisposition, and took all his earthly goods to thebooking office at Vauxhall Station. Chaffery's sister lived atTongham, near Farnham, and Ethel, dismissed a week since by Lagune,had started that morning, under her mother's maudlin supervision, tobegin her new slavery. She was to alight either at Farnham or Woking,as opportunity arose, and to return to Vauxhall to meet him. So thatLewisham's vigil on the main platform was of indefinite duration.
At first he felt the exhilaration of a great adventure. Then, as hepaced the long platform, came a philosophical mood, a sense of entiredetachment from the world. He saw a bundle of uprooted plants besidethe portmanteau of a fellow-passenger and it suggested a grotesquesimile. His roots, his earthly possessions, were all downstairs inthe booking-office. What a flimsy thing he was! A box of books and atrunk of clothes, some certificates and scraps of paper, an entry hereand an entry there, a body not over strong--and the vast multitude ofpeople about him--against him--the huge world in which he foundhimself! Did it matter anything to one human soul save her if heceased to exist forthwith? And miles away perhaps she also wasfeeling little and lonely....
Would she have trouble with her luggage? Suppose her aunt were to cometo Farnham Junction to meet her? Suppose someone stole her purse?Suppose she came too late! The marriage was to take place attwo.... Suppose she never came at all! After three trains insuccession had disappointed him his vague feelings of dread gave placeto a profound depression....
But she came at last, and it was twenty-three minutes to two. Hehurried her luggage downstairs, booked it with his own, and in anotherminute they were in a hansom--their first experience of that speciesof conveyance--on the way to the Vestry office. They had said scarcelyanything to one another, save hasty directions from Lewisham, buttheir eyes were full of excitement, and under the apron of the cabtheir hands were gripped together.
The little old gentleman was business-like but kindly. They madetheir vows to him, to a little black-bearded clerk and a lady who tookoff an apron in the nether part of the building to attend. The littleold gentleman made no long speeches. "You are young people," he saidslowly, "and life together is a difficult thing.... Be kind to eachother." He smiled a little sadly, and held out a friendly hand.
Ethel's eyes glistened and she found she could not speak.
