The Essential G. B. Shaw: Celebrated Plays, Novels, Personal Letters, Essays & Articles. GEORGE BERNARD SHAW

there singing and playing. Everybody about the place used to notice it. Mamma was greatly disgusted.”

      “Do you find him unpleasant — personally, I mean?”

      “I! Oh dear, no! I should never dream of speaking to him. His presence is unpleasant, because he exercises a bad influence on Jasper; so I wish, on that account alone, that he would go.”

      “I trust Marian is careful to limit her intercourse with him as much as possible.”

      “Well, Marian learns electricity from him; and of course that makes a difference. I do not care about such things; and I never go into the laboratory when he is there; so I do not know whether Marian lets him be familiar with her or not. She is rather easygoing; and he is insufferably conceited. However, if she wants to learn electricity, I suppose she must put up with him. He is no worse, after all, than the rest of the people one has to learn things from. They are all impossible.”

      “It is a strange fancy of the girls, to study science.”

      “I am sure I dont know why they do it. It is great nonsense for Jasper to do it, either. He will never keep up his position properly until he shuts up that stupid workshop. He ought to hunt and shoot and entertain a great deal more than he does. It is very hard on us, for we are altogether in Jasper’s hands for such matters. I think he is very foolish.”

      “Not foolish. Dont say that. Excuse my giving you a little lecture; but it is not right to speak, even without thought, of your brother as a fool. No doubt he is a little injudicious; but all men are not called to the same pursuits.”

      “If people have a certain position, they ought to make up their minds to the duties of their position, whether they are called to them or not.”

      The Rev. George, missing the deference with which ladies not related to him usually received his admonitions, changed the subject.

      Meanwhile, Conolly and Marian, walking more slowly than the rest, had fallen far behind. They had been silent at first. She seemed to be in trouble. At last, after some wistful glances at him, she said:

      “Have you resolved to go to London tomorrow; or will you wait until

       Friday?”

      “Tomorrow, Miss Lind. Can I do anything for you in town?”

      Marian hesitated painfully.

      “Do not mind giving me plenty of bother,” he said. “I am so accustomed to superintend the transit of machines as cumbersome as trunks and as fragile as bonnet boxes, that the care of a houseful of ordinary luggage would be a mere amusement for me.”

      “Thank you; but it is not that. I was only thinking — Are you likely to see my cousin, Mr. Marmaduke Lind, whilst you are in London?”

      “N — no. Unless I call upon him, which I have no excuse for doing.”

      “Oh! I thought you knew him.”

      “I met him at that concert.”

      “But I thought you were in the habit of going about with him. At least, I understood him one day to say that you had been to the theatre together.”

      “So we were; but only once. We went there after the concert, and I have never seen him since.”

      “Oh, indeed! I quite mistook.”

      “If you have any particular reason for wishing me to see him, I will.

       It will be all right if I have a message from you. Shall I call on him?

       It will be no trouble to me.”

      “No, oh no. I wanted — it was something that could only be told to him indirectly by an intimate friend — by some one with influence over him. More a hint than anything else. But it does not matter. At least, it cannot be helped.”

      Conolly did not speak until they had gone some thirty yards or so in silence. Then he said: “If the matter is of serious importance to you, Miss Lind, I think I can manage to have a message conveyed to him by a person who has influence over him. I am not absolutely certain that I can; but probably I shall succeed without any great difficulty.”

      Marian looked at him in some surprise. “I hardly know what I ought to do,” she said, doubtfully.

      “Then do nothing,” said Conolly bluntly. “Or, if you want anything said to this gentleman, write to him yourself.”

      “But I dont know his address, and my brother says I ought not to write to him. I dont think I ought, either; but I want him to be told something that may prevent a great deal of unhappiness. It seems so unfeeling to sit down quietly and say, ‘It is not my business to interfere,’ when the mischief might so easily be prevented.”

      “I advise you to be very cautious, Miss Lind. Taking care of other people’s happiness is thankless and dangerous. You dont know your cousin’s address, you say?”

      “No. I thought you did.”

      Conolly shook his head. “Who does know it?” he said.

      “My brother George does; but he refused to tell me. I shall not ask him again.”

      “Of course not. I can find it out for you. But of what use will that be, since you think you ought not to write to him?”

      “I assure you, Mr. Conolly, that if it only concerned myself, I would not hesitate to tell you the whole story, and ask your advice. I feel sure you would shew me what was right. But this is a matter which concerns other people only.”

      “Then you have my advice without telling me. Dont meddle in it.”

      “But—”

      “But what?”

      “After all, what I wish to do could not possibly bring about mischief. If Marmaduke could be given a hint to come down here at once — he has been invited, and is putting off his visit from week to week — it would be sufficient. He will get into trouble if he makes any more excuses. And he can set everything right by coming down now.”

      “Are you sure you dont mean only that he can smooth matters over for the present?”

      “No, you mistake. It is not so much to smooth matters over as to rescue him from a bad influence that is ruining him. There is a person in London from whom he must he got away at all hazards. If you only knew — I wish you knew.”

      “Perhaps I know more than you suppose. Come, Miss Lind, let us understand one another. Your family want your cousin to marry Lady Constance. I know that. She does not object. I know that too. He does.”

      “Oh!” exclaimed Marian, “you are wrong. He does not.”

      “Anyhow,” continued Conolly, “he acts with a certain degree of indifference toward her — keeps away at present, for instance. I infer that the bad influence you have mentioned is the cause of his remissness.”

      “Yes, you are right; only, looking at it all from without as you do, you are mistaken as to Marmaduke’s character. He is easily led away, and very careless about the little attentions that weigh so much with women; but he is thoroughly honorable, and incapable of trifling with Lady Constance. Unfortunately, he is easily imposed on, and impatient of company in which he cannot be a little uproarious. I fear that somebody has taken advantage of this part of his character to establish a great ascendency over him. I” — here Marian became nervous, and controlled her voice with difficulty— “I saw this person once in a theatre; and I can imagine how she would fascinate Marmaduke. She was so clever, so handsome, and — and so utterly abominable. I was angry with Duke for bringing us to the place; and I remember now that he was angry with me because I said she made me shudder.”

      “Utterly abominable is a strong thing for one woman to say of another,” said Conolly, with a certain sternness. “However, I can understand your having that feeling about her. I know her; and it is through her that I hope to find out his address for you.”

      “But her address