THE OPTIMIST BY E. M. DELAFIELD HUMBUG. A STUDY IN EDUCATION THE HEEL OF ACHILLES TENSION THE OPTIMIST BY E. M. DELAFIELD New York THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 1922 _All rights reserved_ PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA COPYRIGHTED, 1922, BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. Set up and electrotyped. Published October, 1922. FERRIS PRINTING COMPANY NEW YORK CITY Dedicated TO C. A. DAWSON-SCOTT IN AFFECTIONATE ADMIRATION OF THE NOVELIST AND THE WOMAN. I VALERIA AND OWEN QUENTILLIAN (i) The ship swung slowly away from the side of the wharf. Several people on board then said, “Well, we’re off at last!” to several other people who had only been thinking of saying it. Owen Quentillian remembered another, longer, sea-voyage taken by himself at an early age. Far more clearly he remembered his arrival at St. Gwenllian. It was that which he wanted to recall, aware as he was of the necessity for resuming a connection that had almost insensibly lapsed for several years. He deliberately let his mind travel backwards, visualizing himself, a disconsolate, shivering morsel, being taken away from Papa and Mamma at the very station itself, and put into an open pony-cart beside Miss Lucilla Morchard. The conversation between them, as far as he could recollect it, had run upon strangely categorical lines. “Who are you?” “I’m Canon Morchard’s daughter. You can call me Lucilla.” “How old are you?” “I’m fifteen, but you shouldn’t ask grown-up persons their age.” “Oh, are you a grown-up person?” “Of course I am. My mother is dead, and I look after the house and the children, and now I’m going to look after you as well.” Lucilla had smiled very nicely as she said this. “How many children are there?” “Three, at home. My eldest brother is at school.” “What are the names of the other ones?” “Valeria and Flora and Adrian. Valeria and Flora are sometimes called Val and Flossie.” He had discovered afterwards that they were seldom called anything else, except by their father. “Why don’t Papa and Mamma come in this little carriage too?” “Because there wouldn’t have been room. They will come in the brougham, later on.” “They won’t go back to India without saying good-bye first, will they?” he asked wistfully. He had known for a long time that Papa and Mamma were going back to India and leaving him at St. Gwenllian. “No, I promise you they won’t do that,” had said Lucilla seriously. Owen had felt entirely that her word was one to be relied upon. Very few grown-up persons gave him that feeling. He remembered extraordinarily little about the house at St. Gwenllian. It was large, and cold, and there were a good many pictures on the walls, but the only two rooms of which he retained a mental photograph were the schoolroom, and the Canon’s library. He saw the latter room first. Lucilla had taken him there at once.