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tell a lie； and would be a brute or a fool if he did not； and to say
at the same time that it is quite indefensible in principle。 Duty
was the key to conduct then； and if in such cases duties appeared to
clash they would be found not to do so on examination。 The lesser
duty would yield to the greater； and therefore ceased to be a duty。
This author she found to be not so tolerable； he distracted her。
She put him aside and gave over reading； having decided on this
second point； that she would； at any hazard； represent the truth to
Lord Mountclere before listening to another word from him。 'Well；
at last I have done；' she said； 'and am ready for my role。'
In looking back upon her past as she retired to rest； Ethelberta
could almost doubt herself to be the identical woman with her who
had entered on a romantic career a few short years ago。 For that
doubt she had good reason。 She had begun as a poet of the Satanic
school in a sweetened form； she was ending as a pseudo…utilitarian。
Was there ever such a transmutation effected before by the action of
a hard environment？ It was not without a qualm of regret that she
discerned how the last infirmity of a noble mind had at length
nearly departed from her。 She wondered if her early notes had had
the genuine ring in them； or whether a poet who could be thrust by
realities to a distance beyond recognition as such was a true poet
at all。 Yet Ethelberta's gradient had been regular： emotional
poetry； light verse； romance as an object； romance as a means；
thoughts of marriage as an aid to her pursuits； a vow to marry for
the good of her family； in other words； from soft and playful
Romanticism to distorted Benthamism。 Was the moral incline upward
or down？
37。 KNOLLSEA … AN ORNAMENTAL VILLA
Her energies collected and fermented anew by the results of the
vigil； Ethelberta left town for Knollsea； where she joined Picotee
the same evening。 Picotee produced a letter； which had been
addressed to her sister at their London residence； but was not
received by her there； Mrs。 Chickerel having forwarded it to
Knollsea the day before Ethelberta arrived in town。
The crinkled writing； in character like the coast…line of Tierra del
Fuego； was becoming familiar by this time。 While reading the note
she informed Picotee； between a quick breath and a rustle of frills；
that it was from Lord Mountclere； who wrote on the subject of
calling to see her； suggesting a day in the following week。 'Now；
Picotee；' she continued； 'we shall have to receive him； and make the
most of him； for I have altered my plans since I was last in
Knollsea。'
'Altered them again？ What are you going to be nownot a poor
person after all？'
'Indeed not。 And so I turn and turn。 Can you imagine what Lord
Mountclere is coming for？ But don't say what you think。 Before I
reply to this letter we must go into new lodgings； to give them as
our address。 The first business to…morrow morning will be to look
for the gayest house we can find； and Captain Flower and this little
cabin of his must be things we have never known。'
The next day after breakfast they accordingly sallied forth。
Knollsea had recently begun to attract notice in the world。 It had
this year undergone visitation from a score of professional
gentlemen and their wives； a minor canon； three marine painters；
seven young ladies with books in their hands； and nine…and…thirty
babies。 Hence a few lodging…houses； of a dash and pretentiousness
far beyond the mark of the old cottages which formed the original
substance of the village； had been erected to meet the wants of such
as these。 To a building of this class Ethelberta now bent her
steps； and the crush of the season having departed in the persons of
three…quarters of the above…named visitors； who went away by a
coach； a van； and a couple of wagonettes one morning； she found no
difficulty in arranging for a red and yellow streaked villa； which
was so bright and glowing that the sun seemed to be shining upon it
even on a cloudy day； and the ruddiest native looked pale when
standing by its walls。 It was not without regret that she renounced
the sailor's pretty cottage for this porticoed and balconied
dwelling； but her lines were laid down clearly at last； and thither
she removed forthwith。
From this brand…new house did Ethelberta pen the letter fixing the
time at which she would be pleased to see Lord Mountclere。
When the hour drew nigh enormous force of will was required to keep
her perturbation down。 She had not distinctly told Picotee of the
object of the viscount's visit； but Picotee guessed nearly enough。
Ethelberta was upon the whole better pleased that the initiative had
again come from him than if the first step in the new campaign had
been her sending the explanatory letter； as intended and promised。
She had thought almost directly after the interview at Rouen that to
enlighten him by writing a confession in cold blood； according to
her first intention； would be little less awkward for her in the
method of telling than in the facts to be told。
So the last hair was arranged and the last fold adjusted； and she
sat down to await a new page of her history。 Picotee sat with her；
under orders to go into the next room when Lord Mountclere should
call； and Ethelberta determined to waste no time； directly he began
to make advances； in clearing up the phenomena of her existence to
him； to the end that no fact which； in the event of his taking her
to wife； could be used against her as an example of concealment；
might remain unrelated。 The collapse of his attachment under the
test might； however； form the grand climax of such a play as this。
The day was rather cold for the season； and Ethelberta sat by a
fire； but the windows were open； and Picotee was amusing herself on
the balcony outside。 The hour struck： Ethelberta fancied she could
hear the wheels of a carriage creeping up the steep ascent which led
to the drive before the door。
'Is it he？' she said quickly。
'No；' said Picotee； whose indifference contrasted strangely with the
restlessness of her who was usually the coolest。 'It is a man
shaking down apples in the garden over the wall。'
They lingered on till some three or four minutes had gone by。
'Surely that's a carriage？' said Ethelberta； then。
'I think it is；' said Picotee outside； stretching her neck forward
as far as she could。 'No； it is the men on the beach dragging up
their boats； they expect wind to…night。'
'How wearisome！ Picotee； you may as well come inside； if he means
to call he will； but he ought to be here by this time。'
It was only once more； and that some time later that she again said
'Listen！'
'That's not the noise of a carriage； it is the fizz of a rocket。
The coastguardsmen are practising the life…apparatus to…day； to be
ready for the autumn wrecks。'
'Ah！' said Ethelberta； her face clearing up。 Hers had not been a
sweetheart's impatience； but her mood had intensified during these
minutes of suspense to a harassing mistrust of her man…compelling
power； which was； if that were possible； more gloomy than
disappointed love。 'I know now whe