England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; World War, 1914-1918 -- Social aspects -- England -- Fiction
To these he had been able to turn a cold shoulder. His intimacy with
Tietjens permitted him to be rather on the "born" side of the
institution, his agreeableness--he knew he was agreeable and useful!--to
Sir Reginald Ingleby, protecting him in the main from unpleasantness.
His "articles" had given him a certain right to an austerity of
demeanour; his book he trusted to let him adopt an almost judicial
attitude. He would then be _the_ Mr. Macmaster, the critic, the
authority. And the first-class departments are not adverse from having
distinguished men as ornaments to their company; at any rate the
promotion of the distinguished are not objected to. So Macmaster
saw--almost physically--Sir Reginald Ingleby perceiving the empressement
with which his valued subordinate was treated in the drawing-rooms of
Mrs. Leamington, Mrs. Cressy, the Hon. Mrs. de Limoux; Sir Reginald
would perceive that, for he was not a reader himself of much else than
Government publications, and he would feel fairly safe in making easy
the path of his critically-gifted and austere young helper. The son of a
very poor shipping clerk in an obscure Scotch harbour town, Macmaster
had very early decided on the career that he would make. As between the
heroes of Mr. Smiles, an author enormously popular in Macmaster's
boyhood, and the more distinctly intellectual achievements open to the
very poor Scot, Macmaster had had no difficulty in choosing. A pit lad
_may_ rise to be a mine owner; a hard, gifted, unsleeping Scots youth,
pursuing unobtrusively and unobjectionably a course of study and of
public usefulness, _will_ certainly achieve distinction, security and
the quiet admiration of those around him. It was the difference between
the _may_ and the _will_, and Macmaster had had no difficulty in making
his choice. He saw himself by now almost certain of a career that should
give him at fifty a knighthood, and long before that a competence, a
drawing-room of his own and a lady who should contribute to his
unobtrusive fame, she moving about, in that room, amongst the best of
the intellects of the day, gracious, devoted, a tribute at once to his
discernment and his achievements. Without some disaster he was sure of
himself. Disasters come to men through drink, bankruptcy and women.
Against the first two he knew himself immune, though his expenses had a
tendency to outrun his income, and he was always a little in debt to
Tietjens. Tietjens fortunately had means. As to the third, he was not so
certain. His life had necessarily been starved of women, and, arrived at
a stage when the female element might, even with due respect to caution,
be considered as a legitimate feature of his life, he had to fear a
rashness of choice due to that very starvation. The type of woman he
needed he knew to exactitude: tall, graceful, dark, loose-gowned,
passionate yet circumspect, oval-featured, deliberative, gracious to
every one around her. He could almost hear the very rustle of her
garments.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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