The yellow book, an illustrated quarterly. Vol. 2, July 1894
General
The yellow book, an illustrated quarterly. Vol. 2, July 1894
English literature -- 19th century -- Periodicals; Great Britain -- Periodicals; Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals
I thought my young lady looked rich--I scarcely knew why; and I hoped
she had put her hand in her pocket. But I soon discovered that she was
not a partisan--she was only a generous, irresponsible inquirer. She
had come to England to see her aunt, and it was at her aunt's she had
met the dreary lady we had all so much on our minds. I saw she would
help to pass the time when she observed that it was a pity this lady
wasn't intrinsically more interesting. That was refreshing, for it was
an article of faith in Mrs. Saltram's circle--at least among those who
scorned to know her horrid husband--that she was attractive on her
merits. She was really a very common person, as Saltram himself would
have been if he hadn't been a prodigy. The question of vulgarity had
no application to him, but it was a measure that his wife kept
challenging you to apply to _her_. I hasten to add that the
consequences of your doing so were no sufficient reason for his having
left her to starve. "He doesn't seem to have much force of character,"
said my young lady; at which I laughed out so loud that my departing
friends looked back at me over their shoulders as if I were making a
joke of their discomfiture. My joke probably cost Saltram a
subscription or two, but it helped me on with my interlocutress. "She
says he drinks like a fish," she sociably continued, "and yet she
admits that his mind is wonderfully clear." It was amusing to converse
with a pretty girl who could talk of the clearness of Saltram's mind.
I tried to tell her--I had it almost on my conscience--what was the
proper way to regard him; an effort attended perhaps more than ever on
this occasion with the usual effect of my feeling that I wasn't after
all very sure of it. She had come to-night out of high curiosity--she
had wanted to find out this proper way for herself. She had read some
of his papers and hadn't understood them; but it was at home, at her
aunt's, that her curiosity had been kindled--kindled mainly by his
wife's remarkable stories of his want of virtue. "I suppose they ought
to have kept me away," my companion dropped, "and I suppose they would
have done so if I hadn't somehow got an idea that he's fascinating. In
fact Mrs. Saltram herself says he is."
"So you came to see where the fascination resides? Well, you've seen!"
My young lady raised her fine eyebrows. "Do you mean in his bad
faith?"
"In the extraordinary effects of it; his possession, that is, of some
quality or other that condemns us in advance to forgive him the
humiliation, as I may call it, to which he has subjected us."
"The humiliation?"
"Why mine, for instance, as one of his guarantors, before you as the
purchaser of a ticket."
"You don't look humiliated a bit, and if you did I should let you off,
disappointed as I am; for the mysterious quality you speak of is just
the quality I came to see."
"Oh, you can't _see_ it!" I exclaimed.
"How then do you get at it?"
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