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it。 She shook her head with great decision； and seemed to bid him
put it up again； but he； still blushing a good deal； pressed her with
awkward ardour； and she at last took it from him； looked at him a
moment fixedly； and laid it on a number。 A moment later the croupier
was raking it in。 She gave the young man a little nod which seemed
to say； 〃I told you so；〃 he glanced round the table again and
laughed； she left her chair； and he made a way for her through the
crowd。 Before going home I took a turn on the terrace and looked
down on the esplanade。 The lamps were out； but the warm starlight
vaguely illumined a dozen figures scattered in couples。 One of these
figures； I thought； was a lady in a white dress。
I had no intention of letting Pickering go without reminding him of
our old acquaintance。 He had been a very singular boy； and I was
curious to see what had become of his singularity。 I looked for him
the next morning at two or three of the hotels； and at last I
discovered his whereabouts。 But he was out； the waiter said； he had
gone to walk an hour before。 I went my way； confident that I should
meet him in the evening。 It was the rule with the Homburg world to
spend its evenings at the Kursaal； and Pickering； apparently； had
already discovered a good reason for not being an exception。 One of
the charms of Homburg is the fact that of a hot day you may walk
about for a whole afternoon in unbroken shade。 The umbrageous
gardens of the Kursaal mingle with the charming Hardtwald； which in
turn melts away into the wooded slopes of the Taunus Mountains。 To
the Hardtwald I bent my steps； and strolled for an hour through mossy
glades and the still； perpendicular gloom of the fir…woods。
Suddenly； on the grassy margin of a by…path； I came upon a young man
stretched at his length in the sun…checkered shade； and kicking his
heels towards a patch of blue sky。 My step was so noiseless on the
turf that； before he saw me； I had time to recognise Pickering again。
He looked as if he had been lounging there for some time； his hair
was tossed about as if he had been sleeping； on the grass near him；
beside his hat and stick； lay a sealed letter。 When he perceived me
he jerked himself forward； and I stood looking at him without
introducing myselfpurposely； to give him a chance to recognise me。
He put on his glasses； being awkwardly near…sighted； and stared up at
me with an air of general trustfulness； but without a sign of knowing
me。 So at last I introduced myself。 Then he jumped up and grasped
my hands； and stared and blushed and laughed； and began a dozen
random questions； ending with a demand as to how in the world I had
known him。
〃Why； you are not changed so utterly；〃 I said； 〃and after all； it's
but fifteen years since you used to do my Latin exercises for me。〃
〃Not changed； eh？〃 he answered； still smiling； and yet speaking with
a sort of ingenuous dismay。
Then I remembered that poor Pickering had been； in those Latin days；
a victim of juvenile irony。 He used to bring a bottle of medicine to
school and take a dose in a glass of water before lunch； and every
day at two o'clock； half an hour before the rest of us were
liberated； an old nurse with bushy eyebrows came and fetched him away
in a carriage。 His extremely fair complexion； his nurse； and his
bottle of medicine； which suggested a vague analogy with the
sleeping…potion in the tragedy； caused him to be called Juliet。
Certainly Romeo's sweetheart hardly suffered more； she was not； at
least； a standing joke in Verona。 Remembering these things； I
hastened to say to Pickering that I hoped he was still the same good
fellow who used to do my Latin for me。 〃We were capital friends； you
know；〃 I went on； 〃then and afterwards。〃
〃Yes； we were very good friends；〃 he said； 〃and that makes it the
stranger I shouldn't have known you。 For you know； as a boy； I never
had many friends； nor as a man either。 You see；〃 he added； passing
his hand over his eyes； 〃I am rather dazed； rather bewildered at
finding myself for the first timealone。〃 And he jerked back his
shoulders nervously； and threw up his head； as if to settle himself
in an unwonted position。 I wondered whether the old nurse with the
bushy eyebrows had remained attached to his person up to a recent
period； and discovered presently that； virtually at least； she had。
We had the whole summer day before us； and we sat down on the grass
together and overhauled our old memories。 It was as if we had
stumbled upon an ancient cupboard in some dusky corner； and rummaged
out a heap of childish playthingstin soldiers and torn story…books；
jack…knives and Chinese puzzles。 This is what we remembered between
us。
He had made but a short stay at schoolnot because he was tormented；
for he thought it so fine to be at school at all that he held his
tongue at home about the sufferings incurred through the medicine…
bottle； but because his father thought he was learning bad manners。
This he imparted to me in confidence at the time； and I remember how
it increased my oppressive awe of Mr。 Pickering； who had appeared to
me in glimpses as a sort of high priest of the proprieties。 Mr。
Pickering was a widowera fact which seemed to produce in him a sort
of preternatural concentration of parental dignity。 He was a
majestic man； with a hooked nose； a keen dark eye； very large
whiskers； and notions of his own as to how a boyor his boy； at any
rateshould be brought up。 First and foremost； he was to be a
〃gentleman〃； which seemed to mean； chiefly； that he was always to
wear a muffler and gloves； and be sent to bed； after a supper of
bread and milk； at eight o'clock。 School…life； on experiment； seemed
hostile to these observances； and Eugene was taken home again； to be
moulded into urbanity beneath the parental eye。 A tutor was provided
for him； and a single select companion was prescribed。 The choice；
mysteriously； fell on me； born as I was under quite another star； my
parents were appealed to； and I was allowed for a few months to have
my lessons with Eugene。 The tutor； I think； must have been rather a
snob； for Eugene was treated like a prince； while I got all the
questions and the raps with the ruler。 And yet I remember never
being jealous of my happier comrade； and striking up； for the time；
one of those friendships of childhood。 He had a watch and a pony and
a great store of picture…books； but my envy of these luxuries was
tempered by a vague compassion which left me free to be generous。 I
could go out to play alone； I could button my jacket myself； and sit
up till I was sleepy。 Poor Pickering could never take a step without
asking leave； or spend half an hour in the garden without a formal
report of it when he came in。 My parents； who had no desire to see
me inoculated with importunate virtues； sent me back to school at the
end of six months。 After that I never saw Eugene。 His father went
to live in the country； to protect the lad's morals； and Eugene
faded； in reminiscence； into a pale image of the depressing effects
of education。 I think I vaguely supposed that he would melt into
thin air； and indeed began gradually to doubt of his existence； and
to regard him as one of the foolish things one ceased to believe in
as one grew older。 It seemed natural that I should have no more news
of him。 Our present meeting was my first assurance that he had
really survived all that muffling and coddling。
I observed him now with a good deal of interest； for he was a rare
phenomenonthe fruit of a system persistently and uninterruptedly
applied。 He struck me； in a fashion； as certain young monks I had
seen in Italy； he had the same candid； unsophisticated cloister face。
His education had been really almost monastic。 It had found him
evidently a very compliant； yielding subject； his gentle affectionate
spirit was not one of those that need to be broken。 It had
bequeathed him； now that he stood on the threshold of the great
world； an extraordinary freshness of impression and alertness of
desire； and I confess that； as I looked at him and met his
transparent blue eye； I trembled for the unwarned innocence of such a
soul。 I became aware； gradually； that the world had already wrought
a certain work upon him and roused him to a restless； troubled self…
consciousness。 Everything about him pointed to an experience from
which he had been debarred； his whole organism trembled with a
dawning sense of unsuspected possibilities of feeling。 This
appealing tremor was indeed outwardly visible。 He kept shifting
himself about on the grass； thrusting his hands through his hair；
wiping a light perspiration from his forehead； breaking out to say
something and rushing off to something else。 Our sudden meeting had
greatly excited him； and I saw that I was likely to profit by a
certain overflow of sentimental fermentation。 I could do so with