The Invader: A NovelWoods, Margaret L. (Margaret Louisa)
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The Invader: A Novel
Woods, Margaret L. (Margaret Louisa)
Multiple personality -- Fiction
The summer was reaching its height. The weather was perfect. Night after
night hot London drawing-rooms were crowded to suffocation, awnings
sprang mushroom-like from every West End pavement; the sound of music
and the rolling of carriages made night, if not hideous, at least
discordant to the unconsidered minority who went to bed as usual.
Outside in the country, even in the suburbs, June came in glory, with
woods in freshest livery of green, with fragrance of hawthorn and broom
and gorse, buttercup meadows and gardens brimmed with roses. It seemed
to George Goring and Mildred as though somehow this warmth, this gayety
and richness of life in the earth had never been there before, but that
Fate and Nature, of which their love was part, were leading them on in a
great festal train to the inevitable consummation. The flame of life had
never burned clearer or more steadily in Mildred, and every day she felt
a growing confidence in having won so complete a possession of her whole
bodily machinery that it would hardly be in the power of Milly to
dethrone her. The sight of George Goring, the touch of his hand, the
very touch of his garment, gave her a feeling of unconquerable life. It
was impossible that she and George should part. All her sanguine and
daring nature cried out to her that were she once his, Milly should not,
could not, return. Tims, too, was there in reserve. Not that Tims would
feel anything but horror at Mildred's conduct in leaving Ian and Tony;
but the thing done, she would recognize the impossibility of allowing
Milly to return to such a situation.
Ian, whose holidays were usually at the inevitable periods, was by some
extraordinary collapse of that bloated thing, the Academic conscience,
going away for a fortnight in June. He had been deputed to attend a
centenary celebration at some German University, and a conference of
savants to be held immediately after it, presented irresistible
attractions.
One Sunday Tims and Mr. Fitzalan went to Hampton Court with the usual
crowd of German, Italian, and French hair-dressers, waiters, cooks, and
restaurant-keepers, besides native cockneys of all classes except the
upper.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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