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comparison； to dare to play the judge to me。 And then I had an open
slight from Mrs。 Millingham； whom I had counted on as one counts
upon the sunrise。 I had not expected things of that sort； they were
disconcerting beyond measure； it was as if the world were giving way
beneath my feet； as though something failed in the essential
confidence of life； as though a hand of wet ice had touched my
heart。 Similar things were happening to Isabel。 Yet we went on
working； visiting； meeting； trying to ignore this gathering of
implacable forces against us。
For a time I was perplexed beyond measure to account for this
campaign。 Then I got a clue。 The centre of diffusion was the
Bailey household。 The Baileys had never forgiven me my abandonment
of the young Liberal group they had done so much to inspire and
organise； their dinner…table had long been a scene of hostile
depreciation of the BLUE WEEKLY and all its allies； week after week
Altiora proclaimed that I was 〃doing nothing；〃 and found other
causes for our bye…election triumphs； I counted Chambers Street a
dangerous place for me。 Yet； nevertheless； I was astonished to find
them using a private scandal against me。 They did。 I think
Handitch had filled up the measure of their bitterness； for I had
not only abandoned them； but I was succeeding beyond even their
power of misrepresentation。 Always I had been a wasp in their
spider's web； difficult to claim as a tool； uncritical；
antagonistic。 I admired their work and devotion enormously； but I
had never concealed my contempt for a certain childish vanity they
displayed； and for the frequent puerility of their political
intrigues。 I suppose contempt galls more than injuries； and anyhow
they had me now。 They had me。 Bailey； I found； was warning fathers
of girls against me as a 〃reckless libertine；〃 and Altiora； flushed；
roguish； and dishevelled； was sitting on her fender curb after
dinner； and pledging little parties of five or six women at a time
with infinite gusto not to let the matter go further。 Our cell was
open to the world； and a bleak； distressful daylight streaming in。
I had a gleam of a more intimate motive in Altiora from the reports
that came to me。 Isabel had been doing a series of five or six
articles in the POLITICAL REVIEW in support of our campaign； the
POLITICAL REVIEW which had hitherto been loyally Baileyite。 Quite
her best writing up to the present； at any rate； is in those papers；
and no doubt Altiora had had not only to read her in those invaded
columns； but listen to her praises in the mouths of the tactless
influential。 Altiora； like so many people who rely on gesture and
vocal insistence in conversation； writes a poor and slovenly prose
and handles an argument badly； Isabel has her University training
behind her and wrote from the first with the stark power of a clear…
headed man。 〃Now we know；〃 said Altiora； with just a gleam of
malice showing through her brightness； 〃now we know who helps with
the writing！〃
She revealed astonishing knowledge。
For a time I couldn't for the life of me discover her sources。 I
had； indeed； a desperate intention of challenging her； and then I
bethought me of a youngster named Curmain； who had been my
supplemental typist and secretary for a time； and whom I had sent on
to her before the days of our breach。 〃Of course！〃 said I；
〃Curmain！〃 He was a tall； drooping； sidelong youth with sandy hair；
a little forward head； and a long thin neck。 He stole stamps； and；
I suspected； rifled my private letter drawer； and I found him one
day on a turn of the stairs looking guilty and ruffled with a pretty
Irish housemaid of Margaret's manifestly in a state of hot
indignation。 I saw nothing； but I felt everything in the air
between them。 I hate this pestering of servants； but at the same
time I didn't want Curmain wiped out of existence； so I had packed
him off without unnecessary discussion to Altiora。 He was quick and
cheap anyhow； and I thought her general austerity ought to redeem
him if anything could； the Chambers Street housemaid wasn't for any
man's kissing and showed it； and the stamps and private letters were
looked after with an efficiency altogether surpassing mine。 And
Altiora； I've no doubt left now whatever； pumped this young
undesirable about me； and scenting a story； had him to dinner alone
one evening to get to the bottom of the matter。 She got quite to
the bottom of it；it must have been a queer duologue。 She read
Isabel's careless； intimate letters to me； so to speak； by this
proxy； and she wasn't ashamed to use this information in the service
of the bitterness that had sprung up in her since our political
breach。 It was essentially a personal bitterness； it helped no
public purpose of theirs to get rid of me。 My downfall in any
public sense was sheer waste；the loss of a man。 She knew she was
behaving badly； and so； when it came to remonstrance； she behaved
worse。 She'd got names and dates and places； the efficiency of her
information was irresistible。 And she set to work at it
marvellously。 Never before； in all her pursuit of efficient ideals；
had Altiora achieved such levels of efficiency。 I wrote a protest
that was perhaps ill…advised and angry； I went to her and tried to
stop her。 She wouldn't listen； she wouldn't think； she denied and
lied； she behaved like a naughty child of six years old which has
made up its mind to be hurtful。 It wasn't only； I think； that she
couldn't bear our political and social influence； she alsoI
realised at that interview couldn't bear our loving。 It seemed to
her the sickliest thing；a thing quite unendurable。 While such
things were； the virtue had gone out of her world。
I've the vividest memory of that call of mine。 She'd just come in
and taken off her hat； and she was grey and dishevelled and tired；
and in a business…like dress of black and crimson that didn't suit
her and was muddy about the skirts； she'd a cold in her head and
sniffed penetratingly； she avoided my eye as she talked and
interrupted everything I had to say； she kept stabbing fiercely at
the cushions of her sofa with a long hat…pin and pretending she was
overwhelmed with grief at the DEBACLE she was deliberately
organising。
〃Then part；〃 she cried； 〃part。 If you don't want a smashing up；
part！ You two have got to be parted。 You've got never to see each
other ever； never to speak。〃 There was a zest in her voice。 〃We're
not circulating stories；〃 she denied。 〃No！ And Curmain never told
us anythingCurmain is an EXCELLENT young man； oh！ a quite
excellent young man。 You misjudged him altogether。〃 。 。 。
I was equally unsuccessful with Bailey。 I caught the little wretch
in the League Club； and he wriggled and lied。 He wouldn't say where
he had got his facts； he wouldn't admit he had told any one。 When I
gave him the names of two men who had come to me astonished and
incredulous； he attempted absurdly to make me think they had told
HIM。 He did his horrible little best to suggest that honest old
Quackett； who had just left England for the Cape； was the real
scandalmonger。 That struck me as mean； even for Bailey。 I've still
the odd vivid impression of his fluting voice； excusing the
inexcusable； his big； shifty face evading me； his perspiration…
beaded forehead； the shrugging shoulders； and the would…be
exculpatory gesturesHoundsditch gesturesof his enormous ugly
hands。
〃I can assure you； my dear fellow；〃 he said； 〃I can assure you we've
done everything to shield youeverything。〃 。 。 。
3
Isabel came after dinner one evening and talked in the office。 She
made a white…robed； dusky figure against the deep blues of my big
window。 I sat at my desk and tore a quill pen to pieces as I
talked。
〃The Baileys don't intend to let this drop；〃 I said。 〃They mean
that every one in London is to know about it。〃
〃I know。〃
〃Well！〃 I said。
〃Dear heart；〃 said Isabel； facing it； 〃it's no good waiting for
things to overtake us； we're at the parting of the ways。〃
〃What are we to do？〃
〃They won't let us go on。〃
〃Damn them！〃
〃They are ORGANISING scandal。〃
〃It's no good waiting for things to overtake us；〃 I echoed； 〃they
have overtaken us。〃 I turned on her。 〃What do you want to do？〃
〃Everything；〃 she said。 〃Keep you and have our work。 Aren't we
Mates？〃
〃We can't。〃
〃And we can't！〃
〃I've got to tell Margaret；〃 I said。
〃Margaret！〃
〃I can't bear the idea of any one else getting in front with it。
I've been wincing about Margaret secretly〃
〃I know。 You'll have to tell herand make your peace with her。〃
She leant back against the bookcases under the window。
〃We've had some good times； Master；〃 she said； with a si