The tunnel : $b Pilgrimage, Volume 4 — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
The tunnel : $b Pilgrimage, Volume 4
John Stuart Mill · en
"It was simply heavenly going off--all standing in the hall in evening
dress while the servants blew for hansoms. I wore my bridesmaid's dress
with a piece of tulle arranged round the top of the bodice. It was wrong
at the back so I had to sit very carefully the whole evening to prevent
it going up like a muffler, but never mind; it was heavenly I tell you.
We bowled off down through the west-end in three hansoms one behind the
other, in the dark. You know the gleam and shine inside a hansom
sprinting along a dark empty street where the lamps are few and dim;
(see 'The Organist's Daughter') and then came the bright streets all
alight and full of dinner and theatre people in evening dress in hansoms
and you kept getting wedged in between other hansoms with people talking
and laughing all round you; and it took about ten minutes to get from
the end of Regent Street across to the other side of Piccadilly where we
dined in wicked Rupert Street. Just as the caviare was brought in we
heard that the Prince of Wales had won the Derby. Shakespeare is
extraordinary. I had no idea Hamlet was so full of quotations."
Miriam flushed heavily as the last words ran automatically from her pen.
The sense of the richly moving picture that had filled her all the
morning and now kept her sitting happily under the hot roof at her small
dusty table in the full breadth of Saturday afternoon would be gone if
she left that sentence. She felt a curious painful shock at the tips of
her fingers as she re-read it; a current singing within her was driven
back by it.... Mrs. Orly's face had been all alive and alight when she
had leant forward across Mr. Hancock and said the words that had seemed
so meaningless and irritating. Perhaps she too had felt something she
wanted to express and had lost it at that moment. Certainly both she and
Mr. Orly would feel the beauty of Shakespeare. But the words had
shattered the spell of Shakespeare and writing them down like that was
spoiling the description of the evening, though Harriett would not think
so.