The Old Adam: A Story of Adventure

by Arnold Bennett

  IV.

  Edward Henry enjoyed the tea, which was bad, to an extraordinary degree.He became uplifted in the presence of Miss Elsie April; whereas Mr.Marrier, strangely, drooped to still deeper depths of unaccustomed inertmelancholy. Edward Henry decided that she was every bit as piquant,challenging, and delectable as he had imagined her to be on the day whenhe ate an artichoke at the next table to hers at Wilkins's. Shecoincided exactly with his remembrance of her, except that she was nowslightly more plump. Her contours were effulgent--there was no otherword. Beautiful she was not, for she had a turned-up nose; but whatcharm she radiated! Every movement and tone enchanted Edward Henry. Hewas enchanted not at intervals, by a chance gesture, but all thetime--when she was serious, when she smiled, when she fingered herteacup, when she pushed her furs back over her shoulders, when she spokeof the weather, when she spoke of the social crisis, and when she madefun, with a certain brief absence of restraint, rather in her artichokemanner of making fun.

  He thought and believed:

  "This is the finest woman I ever saw!" He clearly perceived theinferiority of other women, whom nevertheless he admired and liked, suchas the Countess of Chell and Lady Woldo.

  It was not her brains, nor her beauty, nor her stylishness that affectedhim. No! It was something mysterious and dizzying that resided inevery particle of her individuality.

  He thought:

  "I've often and often wanted to see her again. And now I'm having teawith her!" And he was happy.

  "Have you got that list, Mr. Marrier?" she asked in her low andthrilling voice. So saying, she raised her eyebrows in expectation--adelicious effect, especially behind her half-raised white veil.

  Mr. Marrier produced a document.

  "But that's _my_ list!" said Edward Henry.

  "Your list?"

  "I'd better tell you." Mr. Marrier essayed a rapid explanation. "Mr.Machin wanted a list of the raight sort of people to ask to thecorner-stone-laying of his theatah. So I used this as a basis."

  Elsie April smiled again. "Ve-ry good!" she approved.

  "What is your list, Marrier?" asked Edward Henry.

  It was Elsie who replied:

  "People to be invited to the dramatic _soiree_ of the Azure Society. Wegive six a year. No title is announced. Nobody except a committee ofthree knows even the name of the author of the play that is to beperformed. Everything is kept a secret. Even the author doesn't knowthat his play has been chosen. Don't you think it's a delightful idea?... An offspring of the New Thought!"

  He agreed that it was a delightful idea.

  "Shall I be invited?" he asked.

  She answered gravely: "I don't know."

  "Are you going to play in it?"

  She paused.... "Yes."

  "Then you must let me come. Talking of plays--"

  He stopped. He was on the edge of facetiously relating the episode of"The Orient Pearl" at Sir John Pilgrim's; but he withdrew in time.Suppose that "The Orient Pearl" was the piece to be performed by theAzure Society! It might well be. It was (in his opinion) just the sortof play that that sort of society would choose. Nevertheless he was asanxious as ever to see Elsie April act. He really thought that shecould and would transfigure any play. Even his profound scorn of NewThought (a subject of which he was entirely ignorant) began to bemodified--and by nothing but the enchantment of the tone in which ElsieApril murmured the words, "Azure Society!"

  "How soon is the performance?" he demanded.

  "Wednesday week," said she.

  "That's the very day of my corner-stone-laying," he said. "However, itdoesn't matter. My little affair will be in the afternoon."

  "But it can't be," said she solemnly. "It would interfere with us, andwe should interfere with it. Our annual conference takes place in theafternoon. All London will be there."

  Said Mr. Marrier rather shamefaced:

  "That's just it, Mr. Machin. It positively never occurred to me thatthe Azure Conference is to be on that very day. I never thought of ituntil nearly four o'clock. And then I scarcely knew how to explain itto you. I really don't know how it escaped me."

  Mr. Marrier's trouble was now out, and he had declined in Edward Henry'sesteem. Mr. Marrier was afraid of him. Mr. Marrier's list ofpersonages was no longer a miracle of foresight; it was a merecoincidence. He doubted if Mr. Marrier was worth even his three poundsa week. Edward Henry began to feel ruthless, Napoleonic. He wascapable of brushing away the whole Azure Society and New Thoughtmovement into limbo.

  "You must please alter your date," said Elsie April. And she put herright elbow on the table and leaned her chin on it, and thus somehowestablished a domestic intimacy for the three amid all the blare andnotoriety of the vast tea-room.

  "Oh, but I can't!" he said easily, familiarly. It was her occasional"artichoke" manner that had justified him in assuming this tone. "Ican't!" he repeated. "I've told Sir John I can't possibly be ready anyearlier, and on the day after he'll almost certainly be on his way toMarseilles. Besides, I don't _want_ to alter my date. My date is inthe papers by this time."

  "You've already done quite enough harm to the movement as it is," saidElsie April stoutly but ravishingly.

  "Me--harm to the movement?"

  "Haven't you stopped the building of our church?"

  "Oh! So you know Mr. Wrissell?"

  "Very well indeed."

  "Anybody else would have done the same in my place," Edward Henrydefended himself. "Your cousin, Miss Euclid, would have done it, andMarrier here was in the affair with her."

  "Ah!" exclaimed Elsie April. "But we didn't belong to the movementthen! We didn't know.... Come now, Mr. Machin. Sir John Pilgrim willof course be a great show. But even if you've got him and manage tostick to him, we should beat you. You'll never get the audience youwant if you don't change from Wednesday week. After all, the number ofpeople who count in London is very small. And we've got nearly all ofthem. You've no idea--"

  "I won't change from Wednesday week," said Edward Henry. This defianceof her put him into an extremely agitated felicity.

  "Now, my dear Mr. Machin--"

  He was actually aware of the charm she was exerting, and yet hediscovered that he could easily withstand it.

  "Now, my dear Miss April, please don't try to take advantage of yourbeauty!"

  She sat up. She was apparently measuring herself and him.

  "Then you won't change the day, truly?" Her urbanity was in no wiseimpaired.

  "I won't," he laughed lightly. "I dare say you aren't used to peoplelike me, Miss April."

  (She might get the better of Seven Sachs, but not of him, Edward HenryMachin from the Five Towns!)

  "Marrier," said he suddenly, with a bluff humorous downrightness, "youknow you're in a very awkward position here, and you know you've got tosee Alloyd for me before six o'clock. Be off with you. I will beresponsible for Miss April."

  ("I'll show these Londoners!" he said to himself. "It's simple enoughwhen you once get into it.")

  And he did in fact succeed in dismissing Mr. Marrier, after the latterhad talked Azure business with Miss April for a couple of minutes.

  "I must go, too," said Elsie, imperturbable, impenetrable.

  "One moment," he entreated, and masterfully signalled Marrier to depart.After all, he was paying the fellow three pounds a week.

  She watched Marrier thread his way out. Already she had put on hergloves.

  "I must go," she repeated, her rich red lips then closed definitely.

  "Have you a motor here?" Edward Henry asked.

  "No."

  "Then, if I may, I'll see you home."

  "You may," she said, gazing full at him.

  Whereby he was somewhat startled and put out of countenance.