The Hand of Ethelberta: A Comedy in Chapters

  11. SANDBOURNE AND ITS NEIGHBOURHOOD--SOME LONDON STREETS

  While this was going on in town, Christopher, at his lodgings inSandbourne, had been thrown into rare old visions and dreams by theappearance of Ethelberta's letter. Flattered and encouraged to ambitionas well as to love by her inspiriting sermon, he put off now the lastremnant of cynical doubt upon the genuineness of his old mistress, andonce and for all set down as disloyal a belief he had latterly acquiredthat 'Come, woo me, woo me; for I am like enough to consent,' was all ayoung woman had to tell.

  All the reasoning of political and social economists would not haveconvinced Christopher that he had a better chance in London than inSandbourne of making a decent income by reasonable and likely labour; buta belief in a far more improbable proposition, impetuously expressed,warmed him with the idea that he might become famous there. The greateris frequently more readily credited than the less, and an argument whichwill not convince on a matter of halfpence appears unanswerable whenapplied to questions of glory and honour.

  The regulation wet towel and strong coffee of the ambitious andintellectual student floated before him in visions; but it was with asense of relief that he remembered that music, in spite of its drawbacksas a means of sustenance, was a profession happily unencumbered withthose excruciating preliminaries to greatness.

  Christopher talked about the new move to his sister, and he was vexedthat her hopefulness was not roused to quite the pitch of his own. Aswith others of his sort, his too general habit of accepting the mostclouded possibility that chances offered was only transcended by hisreadiness to kindle with a fitful excitement now and then. Faith wasmuch more equable. 'If you were not the most melancholy man God evercreated,' she said, kindly looking at his vague deep eyes and thin face,which was but a few degrees too refined and poetical to escape theepithet of lantern-jawed from any one who had quarrelled with him, 'youwould not mind my coolness about this. It is a good thing of course togo; I have always fancied that we were mistaken in coming here.Mediocrity stamped "London" fetches more than talent marked "provincial."But I cannot feel so enthusiastic.'

  'Still, if we are to go, we may as well go by enthusiasm as bycalculation; it is a sensation pleasanter to the nerves, and leads tojust as good a result when there is only one result possible.'

  'Very well,' said Faith. 'I will not depress you. If I had to describeyou I should say you were a child in your impulses, and an old man inyour reflections. Have you considered when we shall start?'

  'Yes.'

  'What have you thought?'

  'That we may very well leave the place in six weeks if we wish.'

  'We really may?'

  'Yes. And what is more, we will.'

  * * * * *

  Christopher and Faith arrived in London on an afternoon at the end ofwinter, and beheld from one of the river bridges snow-white scrolls ofsteam from the tall chimneys of Lambeth, rising against the livid skybehind, as if drawn in chalk on toned cardboard.

  The first thing he did that evening, when settled in their apartmentsnear the British Museum, before applying himself to the beginning of themeans by which success in life might be attained, was to go out in thedirection of Ethelberta's door, leaving Faith unpacking the things, andsniffing extraordinary smoke-smells which she discovered in all nooks andcrannies of the rooms. It was some satisfaction to see Ethelberta'shouse, although the single feature in which it differed from the otherhouses in the Crescent was that no lamp shone from the fanlight over theentrance--a speciality which, if he cared for omens, was hardlyencouraging. Fearing to linger near lest he might be detected,Christopher stole a glimpse at the door and at the steps, imagined what atrifle of the depression worn in each step her feet had tended toproduce, and strolled home again.

  Feeling that his reasons for calling just now were scarcely sufficient,he went next day about the business that had brought him to town, whichreferred to a situation as organist in a large church in the north-westdistrict. The post was half ensured already, and he intended to make ofit the nucleus of a professional occupation and income. Then he sat downto think of the preliminary steps towards publishing the song that had sopleased her, and had also, as far as he could understand from her letter,hit the popular taste very successfully; a fact which, however little itmay say for the virtues of the song as a composition, was a greatrecommendation to it as a property. Christopher was delighted toperceive that out of this position he could frame an admissible, if notan unimpeachable, reason for calling upon Ethelberta. He determined todo so at once, and obtain the required permission by word of mouth.

  He was greatly surprised, when the front of the house appeared in view onthis spring afternoon, to see what a white and sightless aspect pervadedall the windows. He came close: the eyeball blankness was caused by allthe shutters and blinds being shut tight from top to bottom. Possiblythis had been the case for some time--he could not tell. In one of thewindows was a card bearing the announcement, 'This House to be letFurnished.' Here was a merciless clash between fancy and fact.Regretting now his faint-heartedness in not letting her know beforehandby some means that he was about to make a new start in the world, andcoming to dwell near her, Christopher rang the bell to make inquiries. Agloomy caretaker appeared after a while, and the young man asked whitherthe ladies had gone to live. He was beyond measure depressed to learnthat they were in the South of France--Arles, the man thought the placewas called--the time of their return to town being very uncertain; thoughone thing was clear, they meant to miss the forthcoming London seasonaltogether.

  As Christopher's hope to see her again had brought a resolve to do so, sonow resolve led to dogged patience. Instead of attempting anything byletter, he decided to wait; and he waited well, occupying himself inpublishing a 'March' and a 'Morning and Evening Service in E flat.' Somefour-part songs, too, engaged his attention when the heavier duties ofthe day were over--these duties being the giving of lessons in harmonyand counterpoint, in which he was aided by the introductions of a manwell known in the musical world, who had been acquainted with youngJulian as a promising amateur long before he adopted music as the staffof his pilgrimage.

  It was the end of summer when he again tried his fortune at the house inExonbury Crescent. Scarcely calculating upon finding her at thisstagnant time of the town year, and only hoping for information, Julianwas surprised and excited to see the shutters open, and the house wearingaltogether a living look, its neighbours having decidedly died offmeanwhile.

  'The family here,' said a footman in answer to his inquiry, 'are onlytemporary tenants of the house. It is not Lady Petherwin's people.'

  'Do you know the Petherwins' present address?'

  'Underground, sir, for the old lady. She died some time ago inSwitzerland, and was buried there, I believe.'

  'And Mrs. Petherwin--the young lady,' said Christopher, starting.

  'We are not acquainted personally with the family,' the man replied. 'Mymaster has only taken the house for a few months, whilst extensivealterations are being made in his own on the other side of the park,which he goes to look after every day. If you want any furtherinformation about Lady Petherwin, Mrs. Petherwin will probably give it. Ican let you have her address.'

  'Ah, yes; thank you,' said Christopher.

  The footman handed him one of some cards which appeared to have been leftfor the purpose. Julian, though tremblingly anxious to know whereEthelberta was, did not look at it till he could take a cool survey inprivate. The address was 'Arrowthorne Lodge, Upper Wessex.'

  'Dear me!' said Christopher to himself, 'not far from Melchester; and notdreadfully far from Sandbourne.'