The Old Maids' Club

by Israel Zangwill

  THE OLD MAIDS' CLUB

  by

  I. ZANGWILL

  Author of "The Bachelor's Club," "The Big Bow Mystery," etc.

  With Numerous Illustrations by F. H. Townsend

  New YorkTait, Sons & CompanyUnion Square

  Copyright, 1892,ByUnited States Book Company,

  [All rights reserved.]

  INTRODUCTION.

  THE READER MY BOOK.

  MY BOOK THE READER.

  THE OLD MAIDS' CLUB. By the Author of The Bachelors' Club]

  CONTENTS.

  CHAPTER. PAGE.

  I. THE ALGEBRA OF LOVE, PLUS OTHER THINGS 9

  II. THE HONORARY TRIER 19

  III. THE MAN IN THE IRONED MASK 27

  IV. THE CLUB GETS ADVERTISED 43

  V. THE PRINCESS OF PORTMAN SQUARE 50

  VI. THE GRAMMAR OF LOVE 86

  VII. THE IDYL OF TREPOLPEN 98

  VIII. MORE ABOUT THE CHERUB 125

  IX. OF WIVES AND THEIR MISTRESSES 133

  X. THE GOOD YOUNG MEN WHO LIVED 147

  XI. ADVENTURES IN SEARCH OF THE POLE 161

  XII. THE ARITHMETIC AND PHYSIOLOGY OF LOVE 188

  XIII. THE ENGLISH SHAKESPEARE 198

  XIV. THE OLD YOUNG WOMAN AND THE NEW 224

  XV. THE MYSTERIOUS ADVERTISER 244

  XVI. THE CLUB BECOMES POPULAR 264

  XVII. A MUSICAL BAR 277

  XVIII. THE BEAUTIFUL GHOUL 291

  XIX. LA FEMME INCOMPRISE 308

  XX. THE INAUGURAL SOIREE 319

  THE OLD MAIDS' CLUB.

  CHAPTER I.

  THE ALGEBRA OF LOVE, PLUS OTHER THINGS.

 

  THE Old Maids' Club was founded by Lillie Dulcimer in her sweetseventeenth year. She had always been precocious and could analyze herown sensations before she could spell. In fact she divided her timebetween making sensations and analyzing them. She never spoke EarlyEnglish--the dialect which so enraged Dr. Johnson--but, like John StuartMill, she wrote a classical style from childhood. She kept a diary, notnecessarily as a guarantee of good faith, but for publication only. Itwas labelled "Lillie Day by Day," and was posted up from her fifth year.Judging by the analogy of the rest, one might construct the entry forthe first day of her life. If she had been able to record her thoughts,her diary would probably have begun thus:--

  "_Sunday, September 3rd:_ My birthday. Wept at the sight of the world inwhich I was to be so miserable. The atmosphere was so stuffy--not at allpleasing to the aesthetic faculties. Expected a more refined reception. Alady, to whom I had never been introduced, fondled me and addressed meas 'Petsie-tootsie-wootsie.' It appears that she is my mother, but thishardly justifies her in degrading the language of Milton andShakespeare. Later on a man came in and kissed her. I could not helpthinking that they might respect my presence; and, if they must carryon, continue to do so out of my sight as before. I understood later thatI must call the stranger 'Poppy,' and that I was not to resent hisfamiliarities, as he was very much attached to my mother by Act ofParliament. Both the man and the woman seem to arrogate to themselves acertain authority over me. How strange that two persons you have neverseen before in your life should claim such rights of interference! Theremust be something rotten in the constitution of Society. It shall be oneof my life-tasks to discover what it is. I made a light lunch off milk,but do not care for the beverage. The day passed slowly. I wasdreadfully bored by the conversation in the bedroom--it was so petty. Iwas glad when night came. O, the intolerable _ennui_ of an EnglishSunday! I divine already that I am destined to go through lifeperpetually craving for I know not what, and that I shan't be happy tillI get it."

  Lillie was a born heroine, being young and beautiful from her birth. Inher fourth year she conceived a Platonic affection for the boy whobrought the telegrams. His manners had such repose. This was followed bya hopeless passion for a French cavalry officer with spurs. Every onefeared she would grow up to be a suicide or a poetess; for her earliestnursery rhyme was an impromptu distich discovered by the nursery-maid,running:

  Woonded i crawl out from the battel, Life is as hollo as my rattel.

  And her twelfth year was almost entirely devoted to literary compositionof a hopeless character, so far as publishers were concerned. It wasonly the success of "Woman as a Waste Force," in her fourteenth year,that induced them to compete for her early manuscripts and to give theworld the celebrated compilations, "Ibsen for Infants," "Browning forBabies," "Carlyle for the Cradle," "Newman for the Nursery," "Leopardifor the Little Ones," and "The Schoolgirl's Schopenhauer," which,together with "Tracts for the Tots," make up the main productions of herFirst Period. After the loss of the French cavalry officer she remained_blasee_ till she was more than seven, when her second grand passiontook her. It was a very grand passion indeed this time--and it lasted afull week. These things did not matter while Lillie had not yet arrivedat years of indiscretion; but when she got into her teens, her fatherbegan to look about for a husband for her. He was a millionaire and hadalways kept her supplied with every luxury. But Lillie did not care forher father's selections, and sent them all away with fleas in their earsinstead of kind words. And her father was as unhappy as his selections.In her sixteenth year her mother, who had been ailing for sixteen years,breathed her last, and Lillie more freely. She had grown quite to likeMrs. Dulcimer, and it prevented her having her own way. The situationwas now very simple. Mr. Dulcimer managed his immense affairs and Lilliemanaged Mr. Dulcimer.

  He made one last effort to get her to manage another man. He discovereda young nobleman who seemed fond of her society and who was in the habitof meeting her accidentally at the Academy. The gunpowder being thuspresumably laid, he set to work to strike the match. But the explosionwas not such as he expected. Lillie told him that no man was furtherfrom her thoughts as a possible husband.

  "But, Lillie," pleaded the millionaire, "not one of the objections youhave impressed upon me applies to Lord Silverdale. He is young, rich,handsome----"

  "Yes, yes, yes," answered Lillie, "I know."

  "He is rich and cannot be after your money."

  "True."

  "He has a title, which you consider an advantage."

  "I do."

  "He is a man of taste and culture."

  "He is."

  "Well, what is it you don't like? Doesn't he ride or dance well?"

  "He dances like an angel and rides like the devil."

  "Well, what in the name of angels or devils is your objection then?"

  "Father," said Lillie very solemnly, "he is all you claim, but----." Thelittle delicate cheek flushed modestly. She could not say it.

  "But----" said the millionaire impatiently.

  Lillie hid her face in her hands.

  "But----" said the millionaire brutally.

 
; "But I love him!"

  "You what?" roared the millionaire.

  "Yes, father, do not be angry with me. I love him dearly. Oh, do notspurn me from you, but I love him with my whole heart and soul, and Ishall never marry any other man but him." The poor little girl burstinto a paroxysm of weeping.

  "Then you _will_ marry him?" gasped the millionaire.

  "No, father," she sobbed solemnly, "that is an illegitimate deductionfrom my proposition. He is the one man on this earth I could never bringmyself to marry."

  "You are mad!"

  "No, father. I am only mathematical. I will never marry a man who doesnot love me. And don't you see that, as I love him, the odds are that hedoesn't love me?"

  "But he tells me he does!"

  "What is his bare assertion--weighed against the doctrine ofprobability! How many girls do you suppose Silverdale has met in hisvaried career?"

  "A thousand, I dare say."

  "Ah, that's only reckoning English Society (and theatres). And then hehas seen Society (and theatres) in Paris, Berlin, Rome, Boston, ahundred places! If we put the figure at three thousand it will bemoderate. Here am I, a single girl----"

  "Who oughtn't to remain so," growled the millionaire.

  "One single girl. How wildly improbable that out of three thousandgirls, Silverdale should just fall in love with me. It is 2999 to 1against. Then there is the probability that he is not in love atall--which makes the odds 5999 to 1. The problem is exactly analogous toone which you will find in any Algebra. Out of a sack containing threethousand coins, what are the odds that a man will draw the one markedcoin?"

  "The comparison of yourself to a marked coin is correct enough," saidthe millionaire, thinking of the files of fortune-hunters to whom he hadgiven the sack. "Otherwise you are talking nonsense."

  "Then Pascal, Laplace, Lagrange, De Moivre talked nonsense," said Lilliehotly; "but I have not finished. We must also leave open the possibilitythat the man will not be tempted to draw out any coin whatsoever. Theodds against the marked coin being drawn out are thus 5999 to 1. Theodds against Silverdale returning my affection are 6000 to 1. As Butlerrightly points out, probability is the only guide to conduct, which is,we know from Matthew Arnold, three-fourths of life. Am I to risk ruiningthree-fourths of my life, in defiance of the unerring dogmas of theDoctrine of Chances? No, father, do not exact this sacrifice from me.Ask me anything you please, and I will grant it--oh! so gladly--but donot, oh, do not ask me to marry the man I love!"

  The millionaire stroked her hair, and soothed her in piteous silence. Hehad made his pile in pig-iron, and had not science enough to grapplewith the situation.

  "Do you mean to say," he said at last, "that because you love a man, hecan't love you?"

  "He can. But in all human probability he won't. Suppose you put on a furwaistcoat and went out into the street, determined to invite to dinnerthe first man in a straw hat, and supposing he replied that you had justforestalled him, as he had gone out with a similar intention to look forthe first man in a fur waistcoat.--What would you say?"

  The millionaire hesitated. "Well, I shouldn't like to insult the man,"he said slowly.

  "You see!" cried Lillie triumphantly.

  "Well, then, dear," said he, after much pondering, "the only thing forit is to marry a man you _don't_ love."

  "Father!" said Lillie in terrible tones.

  The millionaire hung his head shamefacedly at the outrage his suggestionhad put upon his daughter.

  "Forgive me, Lillie," he said; "I shall never interfere again in yourmatrimonial concerns."

  So Lillie wiped her eyes and founded the Old Maids' Club.

  She said it was one of her matrimonial concerns, and so her father couldnot break his word, though an entire suite of rooms in his ownKensington mansion was set aside for the rooms of the Club. Not that hedesired to interfere. Having read "The Bachelors' Club," he thought itwas the surest way of getting her married.

  The object of the Club was defined by the foundress as "thedepolarization of the term 'Old Maid'; in other words, the dissipationof all those disagreeable associations which have gradually and mostunjustly clustered about it; the restoration of the homely Saxon phraseto its pristine purity, and the elevation of the enviable class denotedby it to their due pedestal of privilege and homage."

  The conditions of membership, drawn up by Lillie, were:

  1. Every candidate must be under twenty-five. 2. Every candidate must be beautiful and wealthy, and undertake to continue so. 3. Every candidate must have refused at least one advantageous offer of marriage.

  The rationale of these rules was obvious. Disappointed, soured failureswere not wanted. There was no virtue in being an "Old Maid" when you hadpassed twenty-five. Such creatures are merely old maids--Old Maids (withcapitals) were required to be in the flower of youth and the flush ofbeauty. Their anti-matrimonial motives must be above suspicion. Theymust despise and reject the married state, though they would be welcomedtherein with open arms.

  Only thus would people's minds be disabused of the old-fashioned notionsabout old maids.

  The Old Maids were expected to obey an elaborate array of by-laws, andrespect a series of recommendations.

  According to the by-laws they were required:

  1. To regard all men as brothers. 2. Not to keep cats, lap-dogs, parrots, pages, or other domestic pets. 3. Not to have less than one birthday per year. 4. To abjure medicine, art classes, and Catholicism. 5. Never to speak to a Curate. 6. Not to have any ideals or to take part in Woman's Rights Movements, Charity Concerts, or other Platform Demonstrations. 7. Not to wear caps, curls, or similar articles of attire. 8. Not to kiss females.

  In addition to these there were the

  GENERAL RECOMMENDATIONS:

  Never refuse the last slice of bread, etc., lest you be accused of dreading celibacy. Never accept bits of wedding cake, lest you be suspected of putting them under your pillow. Do not express disapproval by a sniff. In travelling, choose smoking carriages; pack your umbrellas and parasols inside your trunk. Never distribute tracts. Always fondle children and show marked hostility to the household cat. Avoid eccentricities. Do not patronize Dorothy Restaurants or the establishments of the Aerated Bread Company. Never drink cocoa-nibs. In dress it is better to avoid Mittens, Crossovers, Fleecy Shawls, Elastic-side Boots, White Stockings, Black Silk Bodies, with Pendent Gold Chains, and Antique White Lace Collars. One-button White Kid Gloves are also inadvisable for afternoon concerts; nor should any glove be worn with fingers too long to pick up change at booking-offices. Parcels should not be wrapped in whitey-brown paper and not more than three should be carried at once. Watch Pockets should not be hung over the bed, sheets and mattresses should be left to the servants to air, and rooms should be kept in an untidy condition.

  Refrain from manufacturing jam, household remedies, gossip or gooseberry wine. Never nurse a cold or a relative. It is advisable not to have a married sister, as she might decease and the temptation to marry her husband is such as no mere human being ought to be exposed to. For cognate reasons eschew friendship with cripples and hunchbacks (especially when they have mastered the violin in twelve lessons), men of no moral character, drunkards who wish to reform themselves, very ugly men, and husbands with wives in lunatic asylums. Cultivate rather the acquaintance of handsome young men (who have been duly vaccinated), for this species is too conceited to be dangerous.

  On the same principle were the rules for admitting visitors:

  1. No unmarried lady admitted. 2. No married gentlemen admitted.

  If they admitted single ladies there would be no privilege in being amember, while if they did not admit single gentlemen, they might betaunted with being afraid that they were not fireproof. When Lillie hadworked this out to her satisfaction she was greatly chagrined to findthe two rules were the same as for "The Bachelors'
Club." To show theirclub had no connection with the brother institution, she devised aseries of counterblasts to their misogynic maxims. These were woven onall the antimacassars; the deadliest were:

  The husband is the only creature entirely selfish. He is a low organism, consisting mainly of a digestive apparatus and a rude mouth. The lover holds the cloak; the husband drops it. Wedding dresses are webs. Women like clinging robes; men like clinging women. The lover will always help the beloved to be helpless. A man likes his wife to be just clever enough to comprehend his cleverness and just stupid enough to admire it. Women who catch husbands rarely recover. Marriage is a lottery; every wife does not become a widow. Wrinkles are woman's marriage lines; but when she gets them her husband will no longer be bound.

  The woman who believes her husband loves her, is capable of believing that she loves him. A good man's love is the most intolerable of boredoms. A man often marries a woman because they have the same tastes and prefer himself to the rest of creation. If a woman could know what her lover really thought of her she would know what to think of him. Possession is nine points of the marriage law. It is impossible for a man to marry a clever woman. Marriages are made in heaven, but old maids go there.

  Lillie also painted a cynical picture of dubious double-edgedincisiveness. It was called "Latter-day Love," and represented the illhap of Cupid, neglected and superfluous, his quiver full, his arrowsrusty, shivering with the cold, amid contented couples passing him bywith never an eye for the lugubrious legend, "Pity the Poor Blind."

  The picture put the finishing touch to the rooms of the Club. WhenLillie Dulcimer had hung it up, she looked round upon the antimacassarsand felt a proud and happy girl.

  The Old Maids' Club was now complete. Nothing was wanting exceptmembers.

  _Latter-Day Love._]