THE DANCING FAUN _Copyrighted in the United States_ _All rights reserved_ The Dancing Faun by Florence Farr London Elkin Mathews and John Lane Roberts Brothers Boston 1894 Edinburgh: T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to Her Majesty _Prefatory Note_ _Owing to circumstances which have arisen since this story was written in the summer of 1893, it seems necessary to state that it is purely a work of the imagination, and that none of the characters or events are taken from real life._ _Florence Farr._ [Illustration] THE DANCING FAUN ‘Yes, Lady Geraldine, the only beauty in modern life is its falsehood. Its reality is ridiculous.’ ‘Truth always was undignified, Mr. Travers.’ ‘Just so; that is why the art of life consists in not realising the truth,’ replied the man, with charming languor. ‘You are the first person I have met who has dared put these things into words,’ murmured the woman. ‘Your life has been a dream hitherto.’ ‘According to you, I had better not awake.’ ‘One wants experience to give a wider scope to one’s dreams,’ said he paternally. ‘A woman’s imagination has no such needs.’ ‘That depends. What are your favourite books?’ ‘I dislike reading. In novels, people always do what you expect. The only tolerable people are those who do what you do not expect.’ ‘And this is your first season!’ ‘I have four elder sisters.’ ‘Ah!--’ he paused, then he added, ‘one never realises how much women tell each other.’ ‘No, in men’s eyes, women are always at daggers drawn, fighting for the exclusive possession of a masculine heart.’ ‘Geraldine,’ cried her mother, from the other end of the drawing-room, ‘come and sing to us, my dear. Mr. Clausen has not heard your voice since your return from Paris.’ ‘Have you made a serious study of singing, Lady Geraldine?’ asked Travers. ‘I had a course of lessons from Sautussi in the winter.’ ‘Oh yes, Mr. Travers, indeed she has,’ broke in Lady Kirkdale as she crossed the room; ‘and I insisted on her singing at Sautussi’s reception, just the same as the other pupils. I think it is the greatest mistake to make distinctions of rank in matters of art. In art all are equal. There is something so beautiful in that thought.’ Lady Kirkdale pulled up the rose-coloured blind. ‘Will you open the piano, Mr. Travers? I am sure you are devoted to music, you have the musical physiognomy.’ ‘Then I fear I have a very foolish physiognomy.’ ‘Now, now, don’t be severe. Kirkdale tells me you are most delightfully severe, and say such witty things.’ ‘Then Lord Kirkdale has done me an infinite wrong: to have the reputation of a wit precede him is the ruin of a man.’ ‘I assure you, you are mistaken; most people are much too stupid to distinguish the qualities of wit; once establish a reputation, half the world takes you on trust, and considers the other half criticises you because it envies you.’